#i could think through this a lot better or i could just get it out there and i clearly chose the latter | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

keferon · 21 hours ago

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“We’ll see Earth again.” Swerve says it not because he knows for certain, but because he has to believe it.

———————————————

“You don’t have to, you know…”. Jazz gestures vaguely at Swerve’s holoform as he takes a seat next to Jazz on the edge of the bar.

“I know. But it just feels natural, sometimes.” Swerve doesn’t know how to explain it. That he knows his holoform better than his own frame some days. And if he just walked around like this on the ship, he’d get stares. But with Jazz….

“I know what you mean.” Jazz laughs. “Piloting my mech always felt natural. And then I ended up living out of it for a while after my trip through space. Spent so long inside that wiring and metal and electrical signals felt more like me than flesh and blood. Once Prowl found out…took me a while to remember how to be human outside my mech. I still miss it sometimes.”

Jazz is gazes off at a projection against the far wall. Swerve looks closer and recognizes it as a star map of the galaxies. And he wonders if Jazz is just talking about mechs anymore.

“Hard to believe Earth is just one of those tiny dots,” Jazz says softly. “It’s hard to believe any of it still sometimes. That I’m actually out here, on an actual spaceship, with aliens that aren’t just trying to kill us all. With Prowl. With you. I mean, what are the chances?”

What are the chances indeed, Swerve thinks. That of all the ships he just happened to end up on the same one as Jazz and Prowl. But he’s glad in a way. Because otherwise — otherwise he might never have realized that his dreams, his fantasies were anything more than that.

“I’m actually glad, in a way,” Jazz says, echoing Swerve’s own thoughts. “Glad to know we’re not alone in this. Glad to get to know you — the whole you. Glad to have met Prowl. But — I miss Earth, miss home.”

“I miss Earth too,” Swerve says. “A lot. Sometimes…sometimes when I think about the life I lived there it feels more alive, more like I was living then anything I can remember before my accident.”

Swerve had friends, had a job, had hobbies. Had people, including Jazz, — people who were a part of his life and whose lives he was a part of. People who would notice his absence, who would miss his presence. (People who did notice him go missing. Swerve’s seen the status next to his own name in mecha logs. Him and Jazz.)

“We’ll see Earth again.” Swerve says it not because he knows for certain, but because he has to believe it. He needs to see it. Needs to get back.

Because he knows what he’s not telling Jazz. That things back on Earth are not nearly as good as they are here. That things are falling apart. But he has to believe that it’s not too late. That they can still help, if only they can get there. If only they can do something.

“You think so?” Jazz looks directly at Swerve, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“I do,” Swerve says. “Because while you were doing whatever pilot training it is that they have you do to go into space, you know what we were doing? There was a whole team of us behind you — mechanics and engineers — training to support the mission. What to do if things went right. What to do if they went wrong. How to make sure we brought you home. We looked everywhere for you.”

Computations of oxygen supplies, food, water, potential mech damage. All to try and determine the likely survival windows in space. The long days and longer nights and dwindling hopes as the search had stretched on. The memory gives Swerve pause for the briefest moment. But none of their computations could ever have accounted for all the complexities of reality.

“And I found you,” Swerve says, brightening slightly.

“We found Earth.” He points vaguely at the projection. “That’s already two thirds of the way there!”

Swerve grins broadly.

“I can’t tell you how good it is to have a friend like you here.” Jazz throws an arm over Swerves shoulder as he says it. “Next stop, Earth.”

HELP the fact that they both miss Earth despite Jazz being a human and Swerve being an alien is kind of poetic and I’m SO here for it

#I LOVE IT #KDKJFJFJDJD #maccadam #tf mecha universe #mecha writing #mecha bs writing

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cherie-doll · 3 days ago

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I have this brainrot for a while now

Which cod man would be the most husband material, who waits for the shortest amount of time before getting married? And who would be the one who would be fine with not getting married at all? And where are the rest of them?

How many kids would they want if they want?

I don’t need sleep, i need answers!😭

sorry for the delay my wifi is so slow, we just got a new batch of snow down here and tbh it might be affecting my internet

✧ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

ᰍᩚ Price... he's PERFECT husband material. Cut from the finest cloth I'm SO normal about him. You've just observed his behavior closely and he doesn't do annoying things like leaving his clothes lying around on the floor or leaving unwashed dishes in the sink. He def want to get married, but doesn't wait too long nor asks you right away, he'd time it just right. As for kids? Maybe he could convince you to have one or two...

ᰍᩚ Ghost... he doesn't realize he can lowkey be a good husband. He thinks he's not willing to adapt to anyone, given how much stuff he's been through. A relationship isn't the worst thing he's had to go through, he's gone through worse, so why is he thinking about it so much? He doesn't want to enter a relationship with only half a heart, not mindlessly. But he knows his feelings towards you don't come from nothing. His feelings would have to be resolved before you even started dating, so that afterwards everything progresses pretty smoothly. And after marriage, kids? Maybe idk.

ᰍᩚ Soap... he probably had your entire life planned out before he confessed. He knew he loved you, was convinced he wanted to marry you and needed to have kids. So, he waited the least amount of time to marry you. There's lots of things he could improve on as a partner but the good thing is he's willing to make any and all of those changes for you. His respect will never run dry, he won't let desperation take ahold of him, always letting you know one way or another he still cares. It was up to you to decide how many kids you'd be okay with but if it were up to him... yk what better not go there.

ᰍᩚ Gaz... Perfect boyfriend AND husband material. He loves showing affection with the little things, a cup of coffee or tea and cuddling when you feel down or taking care of chores when you need a break. Simple things that he does on the daily that in the long run fortify your relationship. The amount of time he waits before asking you to marry him depends and it's all on how you want your relationship to progress. He's surefooted in his decisions so after the initial stages of the relationship when he's gotten to know you very well, your faults and what he loves about you, he just lets you know that if you want to take that step, he's more than ready to do so. He def wants kids, at least three.

ᰍᩚ Roach... oh my sweet boy ToT. He's such boyfriend material and in time will no doubt grow into a loving husband. He very deeply cares about your connection and how deep it runs between you both. The topic of marriage comes up at a very proper time in your relationship, it's when all he can think of is holding your hand every day, how comforting your presence is to him and how this couldn't ever revert into something casual. Marriage is a definite yes for him. Kids are something he wouldn't think of right away. Maybe a few years down the lane, and maybe one.

ᰍᩚ Alejandro... you made him wish impossible things. How you've made him feel, the sensations not only running smoothly over his skin but finding a way to penetrate deeply, to make him desire nothing else but a life with you. Marriage was the ideal way to continue living in that daydream. How he wishes the days were endless, so he can rejoice for eternity with you. If this was what made him wish to be better, then he was surely husband material. In time, he'd want to start a family with you, to create life, to have little ones to take care of. Three or four kids would occupy his days.

ᰍᩚ Rudy... is THE blueprint for all husbands out there to follow. He's very patient, his voice soothes you, could lull you to sleep. Always listens to you even if you rant, if you point out a flaw of his he works to be better. Never pushed you into doing anything, even when he could already hear the wedding bells ringing, he wanted you to make this decision on your own. In the back of his mind, he most likely already had baby names planned and asked if you wanted kids. He def did and wanted three. He thought it was the perfect number.

ᰍᩚ Phillip Graves... husband material at its FINEST. He's not only charming and a gentleman as a boyfriend but also as a husband. He just couldn't wait to put a ring on your finger so he did want marriage very soon. There is no way he'd NOT want children, he's just as much father material as he is husband material. I've said it before but he was made to father children and I will die on that hill. He loves going everywhere with his son, showing him how to run a company and then he gentles when his daughter is born, doing everything she wants.

ᰍᩚ Makarov... husband material at the core. Deep on the inside he can be genuine and want to care for someone. He likes having someone to depend on him, under his care, leaning on him for that strange affection that isn't found anywhere else. It would be hard to refuse him with the amount of gifts he sends to sweeten you up and coax you to accept his proposal that came too soon for your liking. But look at it this way, he'll always provide everything you'll ever need and want and in exchange you only have to agree to marry him, live with him and... kids. Yes, he wants kids. A numerous family preferably.

ᰍᩚ Keegan... is quite levelheaded when it comes to relationships so he's fine with staying your boyfriend and living with you or becoming your husband when you marry. He could improve on becoming peak husband material but you're lucky if he picks up his clothes from the floor and places it in the laundry basket instead. He thinks having no kids is better until you get a scare thinking you might be with child and he gets excited until you call false alarm. He felt disappointment and then realized he did want kids after all. Would be fine with just one but wouldn't completely be against having another one later on.

ᰍᩚ König... it's not him you have to worry about when it comes to marriage. He's got to watch out for himself because YOU'RE going to wife him up, otherwise he'd never get around to asking you to marry him. Not that he wouldn't want to but he's thinking when would be the perfect moment to ask and he's always thinking, "I'm going to ask them next date", and another date comes and goes by and then another and another... He'd learn to be so loving with kids you just gotta convince him he CAN be a good father. I don't know how many he could handle though.

ᰍᩚ Horangi... he's fun but he's prob best as a boyfriend. Not that he could never be a husband because he can, but he'd be completely fine with not marrying. If you're expecting him to bring up the question and get down on his knee for you... then you're probably setting yourself up for disappointment. It'd take him a while and you'd have to hint at wanting marriage, because otherwise he wouldn't mind just moving in together. I know I used to say he'd want marriage quickly but idk man my perception of him changed. He might get baby fever (rare) and he might ask for ONE kid them, but don't think he's the type for them much.

ᰍᩚ Nikto... if he does open up to wanting a relationship you've got to work with him on the long run. He might be closed off to certain things simply because he might not see a point in progressing in that field, but once he sees that you respect him and don't force anything, he'd def want to marry you. I'm not exactly sure how long he'd wait before proposing to you, honestly it all depends but once he grows attached to a person he wouldn't want to be apart from them so I'm guessing he'd tie the knot pretty soon. The topic of kids is something he's very hesitant of, he rarely gets baby fever, like ever. It'd have to be a lot of convincing on your part. But he might be okay with one or two at most.

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mumblingsage · 1 day ago

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This is one of the additions I appreciate most (there have been many great ones!), and in hindsight, I wish I'd put more context like this my original post. It was unnecessary to insist books/media can't be traumatic, which is dismissive of anyone who might be vulnerable and unfortunate enough to actually have been traumatized in that way and created a lot of side disputes about whether it's possible, which has distracted from the main goal of better understanding what trauma is like. If I had a do-over, I'd have phrased more of it with questions -- "Do you actually mean 'traumatize'? Do you know what goes into trauma and PTSD or acute stress disorder? Knowing that, do you feel it's accurate to use that term? What do you think might be the knock-off effects on trauma survivors (including and especially anyone who has been through a real-life version of the book/movie? Are you telling someone their basic existence is an infohazard, contaminating, unspeakable)? And lastly, could you use advice or support or resources to manage the aftermath of reading that book?"

Depending on how the rest of the conversation went, that last question might be said sarcastically. Though I do realize, especially after reading the notes of this post, that some people need access to much better coping strategies for managing feelings that fiction gives them. And stories can have lingering effects, some of them downright strange when we type them out (your snake example reminds me of some childhood experiences I blogged about earlier as an outgrowth of discussion around this post, and a few continuing adult habits of mine). But not all effects, even negative or uncomfortable ones, rise to the level of "trauma." And the experience of learning and having empathy for a terrible situation can, as you say, result in a "me" the reader likes and appreciates! (My last caveat is that nonfiction on topics like the Holocaust, because it's a real-life and generational trauma, might not always function the same way as fiction. People can and do get secondary/vicarious trauma from taking in media coverage of real life atrocities and tragedies. Though it's more likely to happen to the contractors moderating Facebook to remove violent imagery for hours on end, or someone processing information about their own family or loved ones' deaths or injuries, rather than to a Gentile like me reading a book on the Holocaust written and illustrated for a general audience while reclining comfortably on my couch. I read Primo Levi's Survival in Auschwitz as a preteen 21 years ago, and some details and phrases stick with me. But I'm not getting sensory flashbacks or dragging myself around in a fog on the anniversary of the date I read the book. Levi survived the trauma of Auschwitz. I just read about it.)

I'm wondering if, as a society who cares about vulnerable people, we could stop saying "traumatize" when we truly mean "upset"?

I am sick of hearing sad books or movies "traumatize" their readers. I simply do not believe that happens. A traumatic experience might be adjacent to books (I have vivid memories of books I was reading around certain experiences and even how the contents of those books affected my processing of the experiences). But it's not caused by the book. And, y'know. The weather is Christofascist Censorship Attempts outside.

Meanwhile from the other side I continue to be surprised at just how badly people fail to understand trauma and traumatic experiences in general. Watering down the term isn't helping. Find other hyperbole to express that The Bridge to Terebithia gutted you, chewed on your heartstrings, and made you cry your first pair of contact lenses right out of your preteen eyes.

#abuse cw #self-harm mention cw #trauma #long post #Holocaust cw #I've bitten my tongue in reblogs from asking: Do you think EMDR might help you free yourself from the bonds of Bridge to Terebithia?#but maybe I should just have asked it #because if the answer is 'yes' - someone's taken a step toward getting help! if the answer is 'no' - it's clarifying #(yet another caveat that EMDR is not the only therapy for trauma and doesn't work for everyone. But it's a helpful example.)

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idciminlove · 1 day ago

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Late Nights w Dae-Ho.

Warnings- none

You rested your chin on your knee, gazing out at the dimly lit dormitory. Your shift was in the dead of night, when it was practically silent besides the occasional snores and the hum of the prize screen. It was nice, you thought. Peaceful, in a way. Nothing had really happened all night, but Gi-hun insisted to split the group up into shifts just in case other players tried to attack. You didn't doubt him. He had done this before, after all. Still, most the players seemed harmless. None of them would be capable of murdering each other would they?

The sound of something rustling in the sheets got your attention, causing you to jump. Dae-ho crawled out from under one of the beds and made his way over to you.

"You almost gave me a heart attack!" You whisper shouted at him, giving his shoulder a small smack.

"Sorry." He grinned at you apologetically. "Couldn't sleep."

You sighed softly, returning your gaze to the dormitory. No movement. No change.

He sat beside you, looking out from your spot. "Anything interesting happen?"

"No."

"Bummer." He yawned. "You'd think with having to do these shifts we'd actually get some entertainment or something."

You smirked at him. "If only."

It went quiet. You fidgeted with the zipper of your jacket.

"Do you think Gi-hun is right? That the other players might try to...kill each other?"

"I don't know. I hope not, but he's been right about a lot of things so far. All I know is that I trust him, and the others, and you, of course."

You smiled at that. His words made you feel so seen. But feeling seen left you feeling self conscious, and all of a sudden you needed to fix yourself up, the urge to look nice and presentable strong. You ran your fingers through your hair. You wish you had your hair products in here or something.

"Come here."

"What?" You gazed at him, baffled.

His cheeks went pink as he realized how forward he was being. "Oh, uh, sorry. I meant..you can come here if you want and I can help you with your hair. I know how to braid because of my sisters and-"

Why not? It's not like you had anything better to do.

You crawled over to him, interrupting his nervous rambling and sitting between his legs. He was thankful you were facing away from him, because his face was going red. "Go ahead."

He ran his fingers through your hair, gently, before he started to tug a few braids. "Let me know if I'm being too rough or anything."

"No, it feels nice." You hummed, shutting your eyes.

The soothing feeling of his fingers working with your hair made you sleepy. He could feel your head going lax against his hands, smiling softly.

"You're all done." He murmured after a few minutes. You slowly opened your eyes, stretching your neck.

"Ah, I wish I had a mirror to see how it looked."

"I can be your mirror." He gazed at you with a grin. "You look nice. Really pretty."

"Shut up." You nudged his shoulder, smiling bashfully.

"What? It's true. You're pretty. One of the most beautiful people I've ever seen, actually." He let slip.

Before you could respond, there was more rustling, and Jung-Bae crawled out from his sleeping spot, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Gi-Hun following. "What are you two whispering about?"

"Nothing." You both replied immediately. Gi-Hun and Jung-Bae traded skeptical glances.

"I'm going to bed now. Good luck with your shifts." You said.

"Uh, yeah, me too." Dae-Ho followed after.

The two of you went to your beds, and when no one was looking, you pressed a kiss to his cheek, before going to your mattress, leaving him flustered and smiling to himself like a fool.

#idek where this came from #just finished season 2 #and I love him #player 388 #dae ho x reader #dae ho #dae ho squid game #player 388 x reader #kang dae ho #kang daeho #squid game #squid game season 2 #squid game fic #one shot #squid game s2 #gi hun #my puppy

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igotanidea · 1 day ago

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World's worst wingman: Jason Todd x reader (ft. Dick Grayson)

story borrowed from @gay-dorito-dust, thank you :)

Summary: Dick being Jason's wingman.

***

„Come on, just go do it!”

„No.”

„Why not?”

„Because.”

„Why are you being stubborn? I saw you eyeing her whole night! Seriously, if you keep bringing that face expression on, you will turn into an anime character and-“

Jason groaned and run fingers through his already messed up hair.

For the record – he had no idea that the object of his interest in the form of Y/N would be at this particular club tonight.

Well – maybe a faint idea. Just a vague concept of her whereabouts.

It wasn’t like he stalked her a little, getting to know her favorite places to hang out, her work and her home and the way she was using to commute to ensure its safety.

Definitely not.

But even if he did – there was no regrets in his actions with regards to that.

What he did regret though – was bringing Dick with him to act like some sort of wingman. Stupid. Idiotic. Completely reckless behavior. HE should have known better than that.

Instead of having a chance to talk to her, he was stuck by the table, trying to melt into the plush backrest of the couch behind his back, that happened to be the same color his face was turning into.

Forced to listen to his brother constant babbling how he can’t be such a coward and shy and antisocial and that she seemed to be a nice girl and why won’t Jason just get his ass up and –

“Shut up.” Jason muttered, edging the thin line between behaving and getting a temper tantrum.

“Ohhhh! Is my little Jaybrid getting flustered?” Dick teased, grinning like a madman, deriving almost sadistic pleasure from tormenting his brother.

“I’m getting so many regrets about telling you shit about her.”

“Oh, come on, don’t say it! That’s so not fair! I’m only here to help you, cause with the way you’re acting now I don’t see much chance to succeed in-”

“I’m going to get a drink!” Jason stood up from the table so abruptly that only by miracle it didn’t trip over.

“Oh yeah! That’s the spirit! And while you’re at it, can you bring me one more pina colada?”

It was all just a big fat joke to Dick.

***

“Hey, can I have a beer and a pina colada?” damn the second part of his sentence barely left his throat.

“that;s an unusual mix, istn;t it?” she chuckled grabbing a glass and starting to prepare the drink with learned precision.

“Yeah, it’s not for me – “ Jason stuttered, despite himself “It’s for-“

“Your date?”

“huh?”

“That guy over there?” Y/N pointed towards the Dick, waving at her crazily across the club

“WHAT? He’s not my date! He- he’s my –“ it took a lot of effort from Jason to not address Dick as his prey, but somehow, gulping heavily and clenching fists he managed to calm down. Ish. “-brother. He’s my effing brother.”

“Oh, such a relief!”

“Relief? Why?”

“Cause it means he’s not gay, huh?”

“Oh…”

Of course she was asking about Dick. How could a girl like her ever pay attention to a guy like Jason?

“Relax, I’m kidding. It’s only because of the drink. I mean – what kind of a man orders pina colada unless he’s playing on the other side of the field or has a particularly nasty sense of humor, right?”

“Are you always this observant?”

“You know, some people think I’m just a bartender, but the truth? I’m also a watcher and a listener. You wouldn’t believe the amount of drunk girls crying their broken heart out on this particular counter.”

“Hah!” he chuckled. For some crazy reason her attitude was making him feel at ease. Like he could actually maybe stand a chance with her?

“So, here’s your pina colada and your beer. Enjoy.”

The second she handed him the beverages he knew the moment was over. He was a customer at the bar and she was working here. They were not friends and definitely not more.

“Yeah, um – thanks …” he muttered, retrieving back into himself, grabbing the mugg and a tall glass, heading back to Dick with sense of defeat inside him.

***

“Are you crazy?!”

“Stop yelling!”

“But are you crazy?!” with the way Dick was tugging at Jason’s shirt it was truly a miracle that the younger brother did not end up drenched in and reeking of beer. “You had a chance! It was the perfect opportunity and you’re back here?! Please tell me you at least asked her out!”

“I –“

“Holy shit, Jason, you totally blew it.” Dick rubbed his forehead “Tell me you told her, you liked her!”

“Well-“

“Ok, fine, fine. Let’s lower the bar and the expectations there then. Tell me you told her she’s pretty.”

“I’m not telling the cliché that any drunk man would!”

“You’re hopeless. You are totally hopeless. My god, did I teach you nothing during all those years?!”

“Shut up, Dick!”

Too bad it was too late and Dick was already on a highway to making a scene and the biggest commotion this little suburban club has ever seen.

“Dick!” Jason hissed, feeling all eyes on them. All eyes except Y/N’s who was apparently ending her shift, cleaning some of the stuff from the counter and filling in her colleague.

“Quick! Fast!” Dick started pushing Jason towards her direction.

Mistake.

A little tip: if you ever try to push a 6 ft and 200 pounds man in any direction at all, make sure to make sure he expects it.

Otherwise, the mass of muscles may just subdue to the undeniable power of physics. Especially the gravity and the rules of dynamics. You know, the whole a body set in motion moves in a uniform motion and all shebang.

In Jason’s case it resulted in him losing the balance, falling backwards and stumbling upon unexpecting Y/N, crashing into her as they both ended on the floor with a very disturbing crack coming from somewhere.

“Shit! Shit, shit, shit! Y/N? Are you okay? I am so sorry, I am so terribly sorry, how many fingers do you see-“

“Ouch….” She groaned, reaching for the hand he was reaching towards her, letting him help her up. “Five?”

“Three. Close enough.”

“So you’re a sloth now?”

“huh?”

“Well, I said five fingers, you said three. Sloths have three fingers and – mh. Dry joke, sorry.”

“You must have hit your head pretty bad, huh?” he could swear to god, he had no idea where that joke came from, just slipped his mouth, but to his relief – she laughed. Not in a mean way, not at all. It was a genuine, happy laugh. He made her laugh.

“Yeah, maybe. I swear I am usually in a better shape.”

“I’d love to see that.” He muttered, and in his head it was just a thought never spoken aloud, but when she tilted her head and gave him a funny look, Jason realized he actually did just that. Spoke up. Bared himself to rejection, teasing, hurt, pain, depression –

“Ok.”

“Ok?” his eyes grew wider.

“Yes. Ok. I can give you a sample. And also you owe me.”

“Um, yeah, yeah, ok, so – “ he scratched his head awkwardly.

“I like coffee. And I have a day off tomorrow.”

“Oh, okay then so – “ say something you idiot! Say something! “there’s this little café at the 23rd and-“

“See you at 8.” She smiled, grabbed her coat and with a wave of her hand disappeared leaving him stunned.

He had a date. Ish. A meeting. A meeting with a girl he liked.

He could jump up from the sheer joy of this unexpected turn out of events, if it wasn;t for the one little fact ….

“RICHARD GRAYSON!!!”

The yelling could wake up the dead and sensing the incoming sequence of events, Dick quickly started moving through the crowd towards the exit.

“I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!”

It seemed that after Red Hood was done with his job, Nightwing would be excluded from patrolling that night.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood x y/n #jason todd fluff #red hood fluff

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rainbowsky · 3 days ago

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In all my years of being a GGDD fan, I don't think any year has ever been better than this last one.

In the past I have watched them struggle and face incredibly difficult situations, be forced to spend almost all of their time apart, and deal with scandals and setbacks.

2024 was a year I could never have dreamed of for both of them. Watching them both thrive so well, take charge of their careers and their lives to a degree never before seen, and to have so much time for their personal lives - it's all I've ever wanted for them.

And you can see how well they are thriving, how much happier they are, how much healthier they are, and how much of themselves is stamped on every single thing they do.

I frequently see fans spinning negative fantasies about them, and it makes me sad. As if there isn't enough pain in the world, why generate more in your own mind?

A lot of turtles tend to overly romanticize 2018 and 2019 because they were the years that The Untamed was filmed, promoted and aired, and that's where a lot of our favorite GGDD content was born. I think that's rather self-centered and shortsighted. If we take five seconds to remove our rose-colored glasses, surely we can see how difficult those years were for them.

Yes, they got to work together for a few months, they got to spend some fun time together promoting The Untamed and even got to be somewhat open about their affection for each other in front of a crowd, but outside of that summer dream, they were both in pretty precarious positions in their careers, and both of them faced a lot of really gruesome anti attacks. Neither of them had very much control over their careers or their choices, and their management situations were atrocious.

We don't even have to talk about 2020. That was an incredibly difficult year. GG was the focus of one of the worst cyberbullying and nearly career-ending scandals that's been seen in that industry. He was being threatened, the people connected to him and the brands that he dealt with were being threatened.

Any time he tried to do anything in his career, whether it was an appearance or an endorsement, antis would come out in droves and protest until it was shut down. There were active organized hate campaigns whose entire purpose was to destroy his life and his career. People were trying to infect him with COVID, and there were other threats upon his life. Multiple times online hate campaigns tried to spread the rumor that he had died.

He couldn't go anywhere without people following him and chanting hateful slogans at him and trying to infiltrate the hotels he was staying at. It was terrifying.

DD was constantly overworked, exhausted, always on the move with barely any time to come up for air.

They had to spend most of their time apart, including some of the quarantine time, when DD was isolated so that he could begin filming LOF, right when the worst of the scandal broke. GG's grandfather died, and he faced so many personal burdens.

They did get some fun times together of course, and there were some huge successes for both of them, including GG's spectacular comeback at the end of the year with his sea of red for Tencent All Star Night. Even turtles worked to help ensure he had his red sea.

And GG and DD got to clown around and be silly as well, and they made a real effort to show us that they were getting through fine, they would be okay and that they were still the same people, still able to be happy. We got so much candy that year, and so many great LRLG messages as well.

But that was just a sign of their character and strength. Make no mistake about it, that was a difficult year.

The intervening years between then and now have been a bit of a mixed bag. There were a lot of COVID frustrations (scheduling issues, Kafkaesque hoops to jump through, inability to travel outside the country, risk of ending up in a prolonged lockdown, inevitable health stress), they had to spend a lot of time apart and there were more and more crackdowns on the entertainment industry, on the queer community and on fandom culture, which made things feel positively dismal and oppressive - at times even scary.

However, it's undeniable that things have been gradually improving for them. They've both been building more and more autonomy and control in their careers, and building more respect from audiences and within the industry. They've both been prioritizing their personal lives more and more. And yes - they've BOTH been looking happier, more relaxed, more balanced.

I've talked about that a fair bit over the past couple of years. Most recently in this post.

Looking at 2024, they have had so much more free time in their lives, have been able to spend so much more time together in the same city, have spent time with each other wherever they were filming, and even got to travel and spend some fun downtime outside of China.

They are in such powerful positions compared to even a couple years ago. They have made great connections and worked on some amazing projects.

GG has been working with some of the top directors on some of the most anticipated projects in C-ent. He recorded an entire solo album and several music videos, and did all of that on his own time and on his own dime, and released it to critical acclaim and massive success with audiences.

He has been the talk of the globe in fashion circles and entertainment circles, and has been the face behind some of the most successful and exciting campaigns for some of the most prestigious brands in the world.

He got to travel a lot outside of China, and build on some of the great connections he's made over the years. He got to spend time with his parents traveling Europe!

He's given us so much incredible content with his vlogs and photo sets. It's just mind-boggling how much he's given us over the past couple of years.

DD took initiative to propose and participate in a documentary series where he got to explore interesting locations and engage in some of the most extreme outdoor activities. What could possibly be more exciting for someone like him?

He got to work with a team of conservationists who are fighting to save pangolins, and filmed a documentary there as well. Knowing him, that has to be one of the most rewarding things he's ever done in his life.

Both documentaries were highly acclaimed and award-winning.

Speaking of awards, he debuted as a film star and has been nominated for all of the top awards in China both for his film work and his drama work!

He has signed a new contract with his management company that will certainly have put him in a very powerful position in the company as their top breadwinner. He has been exceptionally successful with endorsements, holding more endorsements than anyone else in C-ent.

He got to play tennis on the top of The Great Wall with one of the top players in the world (regardless of how much I despise Djokovic).

He got to be an Olympic torch bearer! He is the ambassador for multiple high profile organizations and projects.

He earned his auto racing license, joined a racing team and finished in first place in his first ever auto race!

Make no mistake about it, they are both now solidly calling the shots in their own lives and careers, they are living their best lives, and they are both happier than I have ever seen them in all of these years.

And much more healthy! Just take one look at them and you can see how much healthier they both are. They've been playing a lot of sports and doing a lot of active outdoor activities together, and it shows in how much happier and healthier they are.

Frankly anyone who can't see that has their head stuffed firmly in a moist dark place.

I urge everyone to center GG and DD in all of our fandom explorations, theories and interpretations. The reality is that the more that they get to focus on their own lives and careers and personal freedoms, the less candy and CPN we're likely to see. We should be happy for them rather than try to spin sad tales about it.

#bjyx #yizhan #fandom reflections #bxg perspectives #rumors of their misery are greatly exaggerated #i wanted to get this out a lot earlier but my day got sidetracked #king gg #king dd

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messrmoonyy · 1 day ago

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i loved ur virgin reader x arthur headcannons, i was wondering what do you think abt arthur x reader + size kink,,, everyone knows that man is built like a fucking tank. everytime i think of Arthur my mind goes brrrrr w size kink blaring like a bright light

Hello! I have many a thought. Many. May thoughts. I mention size kinks a few times throughout my Arthur uploads so let’s go.

NSFW discussions below. MDNI

I feel like with someone as fucking massive as Arthur it’s impossible not to link him with a size kink lmao. My guy is huge. And for the record, he would absolutely adore you no matter your size. Short, tall, slim, plus sized. Whatever. Odds are you’re still going to be not even remotely the size of that fucking beast of a man. ( I just feel this needs to be pointed out because far too many people write their dainty little reader inserts which is why I try keep my reader insert as blank as possible to insert yourself into. He’d love throwing you about regardless. Mwah )

He’s so often using his size to throw his weight around and scare people. He’s used to intimidating everyone he comes across. But with you he can use it in nicer ways. He wants you to remember he’s bigger, he’s stronger, so you’re safe with him, He’s gonna take care of you. Butttt he can’t help but marvel how small you seem to him. How his body completely covers yours, pinning you down and watching your cunt stretch around him? Seeing you struggle at first but then take him with such a practiced ease after some adjusting? it makes him a little a lot feral.

Likeeee. How vulnerable you are in comparison? He lives for that shit. He could snap you in half if he felt so inclined, and yet you offer yourself to him on a silver platter. The way his hands dwarf your own and he can almost wrap one around your neck completely? LH!Arthur would use it as a threat ‘ so delicate ain’t ya? Could snap you like a twig darlin ‘ ‘ sweet little thing just mine for the takin ‘. Making sure you know he’s in charge, he’s bigger than you so you better listen to him. Oh! And. On the topic of hands, he fucking loves how even his fingers can stretch you out, have you a panting whining mess as he uses those thick fingers of his could make him come on the spot.

And when it gets down to it he loves any position he can just pin you in place. Prone bone, mating press. Pulling your back up against his chest so he can wrap those damn tree trunk arms around you and hold you in place as he fucks up into you, damn near splitting you in half. Anything he can just toss you around and fold you like a rag doll and be his for the taking. And praise you through it all of course “ takin me so well darlin. Always take me so well don’t ya?”

#ask #more smutty Arthur thoughts for the collection #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 #arthur morgan smut

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just-a-ghost00 · 14 hours ago

Text

What they wish to tell you

Decks used : I don't care oracle, White Numen tarot, Spirit Junkie oracle

Group 1 ⭐️

"My productivity stems from inspiration. When I focus on what brings me joy, my tasks become effortless actions." The Moon, 4 of pentacles, 5 of cups, Abuse of power rx, Party in your heart, Surprise rx

They wish to tell you that they're afraid and unhappy. That they feel powerless within this connection. They feel like they've lost all chances of being with you and that scares them. I get a lot of sadness from this spread. Sadness and regret. They feel unsafe. Like all the fun has been taken away from them. They can't seem to rejoice about the things they used to like or to marvel at life. They have a hard time focusing on daily tasks, seeing the glass half full. They feel uninspired, unmotivated, lost because things aren't as they used to be. They feel like you've changed, whether that's the truth or not. They feel disconnected from you, from people in general. They have a hard time thinking positively. I feel like they struggle with mental health issues at the moment. At the back of each deck we have The High Priestess, Dopamine ? Dopa-go ! & My friendships support me, nourish me and inspire me. This person feels like they are not supported by the people around them. They have lost the will to fight for what makes them happy, what they believe in. They're going through a dark night of the soul and they're in a lot of confusion right now. That's also something they try to hide from people around them, including you. They put on a façade but the truth is they wish they could tell you how empty they feel without you. This person wishes they could go back to the times where things weren't as complicated and they could enjoy themselves freely. This person feels like they cannot be themselves freely with their loved ones. For some of you, the person you're thinking of may struggle with their sense of identity. I was picking up on the LGBTQIA2S+ community. For some of you, if your person is a masculine, they may struggle with expressing their feminine side because of societal expectations or pressure from family. I was specifically picking up on Drag Queens and Kings. But more than that I just feel like your person is currently struggling to find their path in life and may be questioning themselves a lot. Which is a very tiring and uncertain time of their life. And they wish they could talk about it with you but for some reason they struggle to do so. Their heart feels very guarded. They are very insecure right now. They have a hard time showing compassion to their own self for what they are experiencing. They may be blaming themselves a lot when they have nothing to be ashamed of. I feel like if this person could change their surroundings maybe they wouldn't be going through such a difficult phase.

Group 2 🍾

"I accept the gifts I've been given as a high service to the world." Death, The Chariot, 3 of swords, Stop doing so much, There's no planet B! , Stand up for yourself rx

The person on your mind wishes to tell you that they feel stuck career wise and they don't know where they stand anymore. This person doesn't feel happy with their professional life as of now and they are afraid to leave whatever situation they're in because they have no idea where they would go or what they would do in such case. This person feels like they don't have what it takes to start over again. They wish they could move on and find something better, get closer to you possibly but they lack the strength and courage to do so. This person feels burnt out by their responsibilities and engagements. They're also afraid of criticism from their peers. On the back of each deck we have knight of swords & Close your eyes, close the curtains and sleep & "Attacking others is an attack on myself. I choose to release this now." They wish to tell you that they do not dare to speak up their mind for fear of rejection. They're afraid of their own light and power, as well as the effects their choices would have on the people around them. They're afraid of the unknown, of "losing" what they're used to. They're afraid of change. They're losing sleep over the fact that no matter how hard they try, no matter how much they think about it, they can't seem to find a way out or a way to change the outcome. On one hand, they know that where they're at right now is detrimental to them. But on the other hand, they feel like if they left whatever situation they're in right now, they would be wasting something beautiful and they could not go back. This person is afraid of taking responsibility and they feel very bad about themselves right now. They're in a dilemma and though they sincerely wish to put an end to this cycle, they can't seem to get themselves out of it. They wish they could tell you how exhausted they are and how hurt they are but they keep it to themselves because they do not wish to burden you with their struggles. Also, for some of you, your person sees you working really hard for your dreams and they're afraid that you're overworking yourself. They wish you would take the time to rest and take care of yourself.

Group 3 🎀

"My friendships support me, nourish me and inspire me." 10 of wands, 2 of wands, The Magician, I dare to declare my love, Please leave a message, Spread the love

I really like the energy of this spread. It's such a stark contrast to the other groups. They wish to tell you that, though they have a lot on their plate, you do not leave their mind and they still have a lot of hope for your connection. You are a source of motivation and inspiration to them. You are the reason why they get up in the morning and do their best every day. They wish to tell you that whatever you are going through, they still appreciate you and care for you. That should you need them, even if they're busy with their own things to deal with, they'll make time and space for you, to comfort you and guide you. They wish to tell you that you are so dear to them and that they're working really hard to be able to be closer to you. That may be true especially for those of you that are in a long distance connection. This person hopes to travel so that they can meet you. They're constantly day dreaming about you. They wish to tell you that you're all they care about and that they only have eyes for you. At the back of each deck we have Ace of pentacles, You are here & "Compassion is my compass. I am willing to hold space for the experience of others." The "You are here" card show an arrow pointing to the Earth from an outer space perspective and the Earth is right at the center of the galaxy from that angle. So they wish to tell you that you're at the center of their Universe. You occupy their thoughts at every moment of their life. I get the same vibe from the compassion card. They are willing to adapt and change things in their life so that you can better fit into their world. With this ace of pentacles, they wish to tell you that they would like to start anew with you or give your connection a new turn by making you an offer. I feel like this person would like to be in a relationship with you, regardless of what people may think and despite the challenges this may rise. It's like, no matter what, they're willing to make it work because you mean so much to them. Honestly this is so sweet.

#just-a-ghost #pick a card #pac reading #tarot reading #love pac #oracle cards

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4vanaa · 1 day ago

Text

FROM THE SIDELINES! | 08

| A RAFE CAMERON SMAU

PAIRING: basketball player!rafe cameron x podcaster!reader

SUMMARY: you’re a cohost for your college’s sports podcast, where your playful commentary about star basketball player rafe cameron gains attention. under pressure from your strict father, the university president, you agree to fake date rafe, who also needs to clean up his image in time for his draft.

Masterlist

PREVIOUS | NEXT

CW: mature themes, it ftb but still mdni, y/n sleeps with someone other than rafe!!!

a/n: saddle up, this is long for no reason, but i guess everything’s bigger/longer in texas 🤠🤠

You’re perched at the bar, half-listening to Cleo and Kie as your phone vibrates. You glance at the screen and see a DM from none other than, Harris Fuller. You debate on ignoring it, but curiosity wins.

11:59 PM

Fuller: That dress is dangerous, Y/N. You’re either trying to kill me or you’re just cruel.

You: Dangerous? That’s rich coming from the guy who couldn’t even keep up on the court.

12:01 AM

Fuller: You’re cute when you’re cocky. Wonder what other sounds I could get out of you if I got my hands on you.

Your heart skips a beat, heat creeping up your neck. You glance across the room, and there he is—leaning against a high-top table, his eyes shamelessly dragging down your figure. Your phone buzzes again before you can respond.

Fuller: Come on, sweetheart. You’ve been teasing me all night. Let me give you something to really smirk about.

You bite your lip, tapping out a response.

12:03 AM

You: You sure you can handle me? Didn’t look like you could handle much earlier.

12:04 AM

Fuller: Trust me, I can handle you just fine. The real question is whether you can handle me.

Your breath catches, your body heating at the boldness of his words. You’re about to lock your phone when another message pops up.

12:05 AM

Fuller: I’ve been thinking about how you’d look under me all night. Care to make it a reality?

Your stomach flips, your thighs pressing together involuntarily. You glance at Cleo and Kie, who are deep in conversation, before typing back.

12:07 AM

You: Big words for a sore loser. What makes you think you’re worth my time?

Fuller: Because I’d have you screaming my name before you could even think about stopping me. And I’d make damn sure you didn’t want to.

Your pulse races as you read the message, and when you look up, his dark gaze is locked on you from across the room. He smirks, raising his glass in a silent dare. You exhale slowly, typing back.

12:10 AM

You: Prove it.

12:11 AM

Fuller: Outside. Five minutes. Don’t make me wait, Y/N. I’ve got a lot to show you.

The night air hits your skin as soon as you step outside, your breath hitching in anticipation. The hum of the bar fades behind you, replaced by the sound of boots on pavement. You turn to find Fuller already there, his lips tugging into a cocky grin as he saunters closer.

"Didn’t think you’d actually show." He says his voice low and teasing.

Crossing your arms, your tone sharp,"You’re the one who begged me to."

"Oh, sweetheart, I don’t beg. I take."

You rolled her eyes, but it did little to mask the warmth pooling low in your stomach. “You’re so full of yourself, Fuller.”

He stepped closer, the space between you disappearing, his cologne wrapping around you like a second skin. “You say that like you don’t love it,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine.

Your back straightened instinctively, your arms tightening over her chest as you tried to maintain your composure. “Maybe I just wanted to see if you’re as good at backing up all that talk as you think you are.”

His laugh was quiet, deep, and far too knowing. He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm before sliding down to your waist. The touch was casual, but the heat of it lingered, spreading through her like wildfire.

“Baby,” he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, “I’m better.”

You hated how easily he got under your skin, how his confidence wasn’t just arrogant but seductive, pulling you into his orbit without you even realizing it. Your breath caught as he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he murmured, his voice like gravel, low and commanding. “And I’ll walk away right now.”

Your chest heaves as you stare into his eyes, the heat in his gaze almost overwhelming. You don’t say anything, your silence all the permission he needs. His lips crash into yours, firm and demanding, his hands gripping your hips as he presses you back against the brick wall. You gasp into his mouth, your fingers curling into his shirt as the kiss deepens.

He pulls back just enough to speak, his voice rough, "Knew you’d taste this sweet."

You don’t respond, too caught up in the way his hands roam your body, his touch unapologetically confident. His lips trail down your neck, nipping at your skin as you arch against him, a soft sound escaping your lips.

Breathlessly, your voice shaky you ask, “Still all talk?"

He chuckles darkly, his teeth grazing your jaw, "You haven’t seen anything yet."

He grips your thigh, lifting it to hook around his waist as his mouth claims yours again, your bodies pressed so tightly together you can feel every inch of him. The world fades away, leaving only the electric heat between you as his hands explore your curves, each touch igniting a fire that threatens to consume you.

Your back aches against the rough brick wall, but the sensation barely registers over the heat of Fuller’s lips moving against yours. His hands are everywhere—on your hips, sliding down to grip your thighs, pulling you closer like he can’t get enough. The cool night air does little to temper the heat radiating between them, your breaths coming faster with every calculated touch.

His lips trail to your ear, his voice rough and low, "You gonna keep pretending you don’t want me, or are you ready to admit I’m exactly what you need tonight?"

Your nails dig into his shoulders as you try to catch your breath, your lips tingling from the intensity of his kiss. You hate how easily he’s gotten under your skin, but the fire in your veins tells you there’s no walking away now.

"I don’t need you for anything, Fuller." You say breathless, your voice challenging.

He grins against your skin, his teeth grazing against your jawline, "That so? Then why are you letting me touch you like this?"

His hand slides higher, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate patterns along the hem of your dress, teasing the bare skin of your thigh. Your breath hitches, your legs instinctively tightening around him as he presses his body firmly against yours.

Your voice falters, “Maybe I’m just curious if you’re worth the hype."

He chuckles darkly, his fingers dipping just beneath the fabric, "Guess I’ll have to show you, then."

He captures your lips again, this time slower, more deliberate, his tongue sweeping against yours in a way that makes your knees weak. His hand moves higher, his touch firm and confident as his fingers brush against your most sensitive spot. You gasp into his mouth, your head falling back against the wall as his name slips from your lips before you can stop it.

"Harris…" you say softly, almost in a whisper.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes dark with desire as he watches your face, his smirk nowhere to be found now—only raw intensity.

His voice a husky growl, "That’s it, sweetheart. Say it again."

Your hands grip his shirt, your head spinning as his touch sends a shiver through your entire body. You’ve never felt this way before—completely out of control, consumed by him and the way he’s unraveling you with every calculated move. He leans in again, his lips brushing your ear.

"I told you… everything’s bigger in Texas."

Your laugh is breathless, shaky, but it turns into a moan as he presses his hips into yours, letting you feel exactly what he means. The heat between you is suffocating now, and you know you should stop this—shouldn’t let him get to you like this—but the way he’s touching you makes rational thought impossible.

"Big talk. You better live up to it," you say half-teasing, your voice trembling..

He grins as his hands grip your waist firmly, "Oh, I will. Just don’t forget who made you feel this way."

And with that, he lifts you easily, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you toward the shadows, the world around them fading completely as the night becomes yours alone.

a/n: honestly i didn’t mean to write out the full scene between her and fuller, i was just going to mention it in a later chapter, but i watched baby girl the other day so…. also he’s just serving as a plot device. and this is a hit and dip scenario, no feelings are shared between y/n and fuller!!! i want to learn write full on explicit, descriptive scenes but this is the best i could give you. 😔 i apologize if this completely sucks and you don’t wanna read this series anymore, i understand 🙂‍↔️🙂‍↔️

🏷️ : @fruitcakerafe @akobx @lilithblackkk @ultraviollett @drewsephrry @sereneera @ethanthequeefqueen @marleymarleymarleymarley @dylsdaily @inthelibrarybtw @redstappen @orangerafe

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just-dreaming-marvel · 3 days ago

Text

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 55

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 1,950ish

Summary: Emotions rise and everything comes crashing down.

Notes: I couldn't help myself. Just had to get this chapter out before I went to sleep. Please share reactions! Please remember to review the timeline posted here.

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

For the next week and a half, Logan and you had lunch together every day, Wade visited you during every shift, and Laura had begun pulling away. Laura had been a pretty easy child to raise, it was only a matter of time before the moody teenage years set in. Though, you knew it was more than that. You had tried to talk to her only to be met with short answers or grunts. You couldn’t help but blame yourself for some of what she was going through.

You hadn’t had an incident with your powers since the moment with Logan, in which you were grateful for. Your hands were thoroughly scarred over, but you were learning to live with it. You were trying to work past your own issues, in which Logan and Wade had a great part in that, constantly keeping tabs on you and Laura. You were becoming quick friends with the two men and it felt nice to have friends again after all these years.

It was your regular lunch with Logan. You were in your kitchen while he was drinking a beer at the table.

“I got a job,” he suddenly stated.

“You did?” You asked. “Where?”

“The mechanic’s down the street. They’ll let me work in the back and have minimal interaction with the customers.”

“That will be good for you. You need to get out more. Maybe make some friends.”

“I don’t need friends.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Well then, what are you and Wade and Laura?”

“We’re your friends, but you need people outside of this craziness.”

“And do you have any?”

“I’m getting there at work.”

The apartment door opened and closed, signaling that Laura was home. You peeked out from the kitchen.

“Hey, kiddo!” You greeted. “Logan and I were getting ready for lunch. Do you want to join us?”

“Not hungry,” she muttered, heading straight for her bedroom and closing the door.

You sighed, shoulders sagging.

“Everything alright?” Logan asked.

“It’s fine,” you responded, getting back to preparing lunch. “She’s struggling but is keeping me at arms length… She gets that from her father.”

“Or you.”

“What?”

“You’re still struggling. But you’re just masking it better than you were before.”

“You’re one to talk. I can hear you at night. These walls aren’t very thin. Do you ever get any sleep?”

“I get enough.” He took a long swig of his beer.

You scoffed. “Whatever.”

~~~

Another few weeks past with a similar routine, with the addition of Wade and Logan stopping by for dinner when you weren’t working. Between you, Laura, and Logan, you were all going through a lot but avoiding most of it. It was a night you weren’t working. Logan just got off and headed straight of your and Laura’s place. He had let himself in quietly, only to hear an argument between you and Laura.

“For the last time, Laura, you are not going to that party,” you were clearly exasperated. “I don’t think it will be safe.”

“You never let me do anything!” Laura spat.

“I’m just trying to do my duty and protect you.”

“You’re not my real mom! I don’t have to listen to a word you say!”

The pain those words caused was more heartbreaking than anything anyone had ever said over the last few years. Logan could tell that the words hit you deep, though you were trying to cover it up. He stepped between you and Laura with a protective fury, letting the both of you know that he had entered the apartment.

“You do not talk to her that way,” he was furious at how Laura was treating you. You were just trying to protect her.

“Why? It’s not like you’re my dad!”

Those words did little to rattle Logan. “I don’t care. Y/N raised you. Show her some respect.”

“Make me.”

You had no say in the chaos that quickly erupted in your apartment living room. The two had their claws out and were actively fighting each other. Too overwhelmed to stop it as your long pushed down anxieties bubbled up, you slipped out of the apartment, tears sliding down your cheeks.

“Hey, Buttercup!” Wade’s chipper voice echoed down the hall as he headed toward you. “What are you–” The moment he saw your tears he was down on the floor in front of you. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“Nothing,” you squeaked, shaking your head. “Everything is–” You were cut off by a guttural roar from inside your apartment. You squeezed your eyes shut as a sob tore through you. “She said I’m not her mother… she’s right… so why does it hurt so much?”

“Hey, no one makes my Buttercup cry. Not even Little Wolf.” Wade stood up straight. “Stay put. I’ll handle this.” Wade waltzed inside before you could stop him. “HEY!” Wade shouted once he was sure the door was shut. Logan and Laura stopped their fighting immediately. Wade took in the apartment, noticing how your decorations and furniture were destroyed by claws and blood. “Well, well, well. Way to ruin my day, Peanut and Little Wolf. I was on my way over to see what was for dinner when I found my precious Buttercup sobbing in the hallway.” Logan and Laura’s eyes widened as they finally realized that you were no longer in the apartment. “You two assholes need to work this out, clean this mess up, and apologize. Until that happens, my sweet buttercup will be staying with me and Blind Al.”

“But–”

“Sorry, Peanut, no room for arguments. You assholes deal with this and I’ll handle Y/N.”

Spinning on his heel, Wade opened the apartment door. “Okay, Buttercup, we’re–” Wade stopped himself as he took in the empty hall. “Buttercup? Y/N?”

Logan and Laura rushed to the doorway as Wade stepped out to get a better look. Without a second thought, Logan and Laura both sniffed, taking in your smokey scent.

“This way,” Logan huffed, leading the group down the hall.

The group headed down the stairs of the apartment complex. The scent led them outside, where it had begun to rain. Both Logan and Laura stopped, taking in deep breaths through their nostrils.

“She’s gone,” Laura’s voice wobbled. “My mom’s gone.” Guilt was seeping into her soul. She had caused this and the words she said, she didn’t even mean. You were her mother, blood or not. You had taken care of her when she had no one– when you had no one. And now you were gone. “It’s all my fault.”

Logan knew he should have been the better person, Laura was still only a kid, but right now he was too concerned for your wellbeing. “You’re fucking right this is your fault.” Though he knew those words weren’t completely true. Ignoring the rain, Logan headed down in the direction he could only hope you could have gone.

“Do you smell her?” Laura jogged after him.

“No. But she shouldn’t be out alone.”

“Yay!” Wade clapped. “An old fashioned search party!”

“No. You two can stay here.”

“Ah, come on! It can be so much–”

Laura tripped Wade as he tried to follow after Logan. Logan’s strides became longer as he kept his eyes scanning for any sign of you. It was dark and rainy. Though Logan knew first hand you could take care of yourself, he was still scared for your safety. You weren’t okay. You were carrying a lot of anxiety and sorrow that you had been forced to carry it all yourself for years, slowly wearing you down to the breaking point that came tonight. Just like Logan’s original you, you weren’t a runner. This was something heartbreakingly new.

Logan also had a inclining that you were struggling more than you let on with being back in your original timeline in 2024, where you knew that a younger version of you and your original Logan were living at the mansion together. The TVA had made it very clear that if you intervened, there would be severe consequences. In the beginning, Logan didn’t think you would, now he wasn’t so sure. Would you risk it all for just a glimpse or one last interaction?

Logan wandered through the rainy city until dawn, with no sign of you anywhere. Deciding he needed to get Wade and Laura in on this, Logan headed back to the apartment complex. He went to your apartment first, hoping that you were in there. He wasn’t surprised to see that the mess was cleaned up and new decorations and furniture sat in place of the ones he and Laura had destroyed. Logan figured Wade had helped Laura.

With a sigh, Logan left the apartment and headed to the one he shared with Wade and Althea. When he entered, he found Wade in his Deadpool suit, loading his golden guns.

“Well, look who returned just in time,” Wade commented.

“What’s going on?” Logan asked, noticing that Laura was there as well.

“You really need to keep your phone on you, Peanut.”

“Just tell me what the fuck is going on.”

“The TVA took my mom,” Laura stated.

Logan’s head snapped in her direction as his stomach dropped. “What? Why?”

“She apparently got too close to her original timeline self.”

“So, we’re gearing up for a daring rescue,” Wade explained, pulling his mask over his face. “You in, Prince Charming?”

~~~

It had all happened by accident. You didn’t mean to. You were wandering aimlessly through the rainy streets, just trying to clear your head and to stop the flames that threatened to engulf you.

How were you supposed to remember that you and Logan had gone on a date in the city on this night? To you, it was a long time ago and a lot of traumatic life events have happened since. You didn’t even see your original Logan and your younger self before the TVA agents appeared and you were standing in the middle of the TVA offices, on the catwalk. B-15 was standing before you.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” she told you. You could see that she truly meant it. “You got too close to your younger timeline self and Logan.”

“I didn’t mean to,” you said, on the verge of tears once again. “I didn’t know– didn’t remember.”

“I know, but it was a part of the deal you made to return to that timeline. I have already informed Wade and Laura of the mishap. You will be sent back to The Void.”

“Please don’t do this!” You shook your head. “I can’t go back there. I can’t leave Laura alone!”

“I am so sorry, Y/N.”

Before you could fight, a TVA agent was behind you and used a time stick to send you back into The Void. You landed in the middle of an empty field. You were on your knees already, making it easier for you to bury your head in your hands and cry. It had all become too much. Losing your original Logan. Taking care of Laura. Your powers failing you. Being sent to The Void the first time. You hadn’t taken care of yourself mentally or emotionally, and it was finally taking its toll.

You had finally reached the breaking point of it all and you were now alone, and back in The Void. You could feel flames form on your back and your skin heating up. Pain radiated through you but you didn’t care. You didn’t have any more fight in you. After years and years of fighting, you were done. Maybe if you just curled up here, Alioth would find you and end your suffering once and for all.

next chapter >

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measuredingold · 2 days ago

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my soul is useless without you

author's note: part two to i'd walk through hell for you is finally here ! i'm not sure if i want to do a third part, but we’ll see lol but i'm currently working on something for folio 👀 as always, i hope you enjoy and feedback is appreciated ! also, if yall have any requests, send them my way :) i'm in the mood to write but inspiration is running thin lol

pairing: noah sebastian x reader

divider: @saradika-graphics

word count: 3.5k

cross posted on ao3 / part one

cw/tw: angst, hurt/comfort, Noah Sebastian Is Bad At Feelings But A Good Friend, reader is going through it, anxiety, hints/mentions of depression, noah is just a good guy and cares about reader a lot ( more than he realizes ), friends to lovers pining lol, 18+ minors do not interact

It's when Jolly asks Noah in-between takes if he'd heard from you recently that the anxiety finally settles in.

Because he doesn't know the last time he's heard from you. Which isn't normal.

He's a bad texter, notorious for looking at messages and making a note to reply to them later or replying in his mind, but he always makes sure to reply to you whenever the two of you aren't together. It's just always been a thing, to always have some form of communication with you when he wasn't over at yours or if you weren't at his, so it panics him when he can't remember the last time he'd spoken to you.

He goes through your messages and finds that it wasn't him this time who didn't respond, but instead it was you. Relief washes over him briefly, the guilt of forgetting to respond to his best friend vanishing, but then that anxiety comes back full force.

You didn't respond.

You always responded.

He sends off a quick message to you, apologizing for being in studio mode and not leaving the house and asks if you're alright. He waits. They go through another take, he somehow doesn't fuck it up even though his mind isn't all the way there. You still haven't responded by the fifth take and that's when he starts to feel sick, stomach twisting with the worry of what could be wrong.

He tries to think back to if you've ever gone this long without speaking and he can't think of a time when that has happened.

"Earth to Noah." Jolly's voice pulls him away from his thoughts.

"Oh. Uh, sorry."

"All good, man." His bandmate eyes him for a second before his eyes flicker towards his phone. "She respond?"

"Um. No." His brows furrowed as he stared at his phone, the black screen mocking him. "Kind of worried."

"Yeah... I am, too." Jolly murmurs. He clicks around on the screen a few times before twisting his chair around to fully face Noah, arms crossing over his chest. "You should go over there. Check and make sure she's alright."

Noah raises a brow at him. "We're in the middle of recording?"

"And?" Jolly shrugs, waving him off. "We got a lot done today, we can wrap it up. Something's obviously wrong and she might need you. That's more important than some song."

He blinks at his friend, letting his words settle in. Jolly's right, he thinks. You are more important than whatever song they're working on. That confirmation makes him feel funny, something tightening beneath his chest but he ignores it, nodding slowly.

"Okay. You wanna come?"

Jolly shakes his head. "Nah. The both of us might be overwhelming. If you do need me then call, if not..." He shrugs again before lifting himself up out of his chair, groaning softly to himself, "...might be best for just you to go. She'd probably feel better if it's just you, anyways. You know how she is."

Noah isn't quite sure what he means, but nods along anyways. He checks his phone again and still no text, but he notices that you read the message. He should feel relieved at the sign of life but it only makes his anxiety worse, stomach twisting violently.

"Okay. I'll text you when I get there."

He's practically running out of the studio after that, the only thing on his mind was you. He needed to make sure you were okay. Deep down he knew that if this was him, you would've already been here, and he feels guilty all over again. He should've paid more attention, shouldn't have let this slip his mind so easily. He thinks back to your last messages together and how you were talking about your work day, overwhelmed and quite frankly, upset about it all. He should've paid closer attention.

He makes it to yours in record time, legs moving him to the door before he can even think about it. He sends up a quiet prayer to the universe that you had given him an extra key months ago and uses it to unlock the door, slowly pushing it open.

He calls out your name, but no answer.

His eyes sweep over your apartment as he enters, scanning the open space. Your kitchen looked untouched, minus the few dirty dishes that were in your sink. A few boxes of Chinese take-out and some bottles of water. He feels almost relieved. You'd been eating and as far as he can tell you'd been keeping yourself somewhat hydrated, so that was a plus. He knows how bad you can be when you get into this headspace - brain fog, forgetting to do basic things like eating and drinking water. But this... this is a step in the right direction.

His eyes move towards the living room and it's just about the same. A pile of blankets lay together at one end of the couch, pillows scattered along the length of the cushions. You'd been there quite a bit, he can tell, but other than that nothing was too bad.

Noah feels like he can breathe for just a second, eyes going straight to the cracked open door to your bedroom. He hears the faint hum of your television and hears the muffled voice of your favorite characters in your favorite comfort show. His chest tightens. You only ever watch it when things get bad inside your head, when things start to become too overwhelming and you need to cling onto something that you know. Something that won't throw any surprises at you and make things worse.

He makes his way towards your room, ready to call out your name again as he pushes open your door but stops halfway. You're curled up in your bed, covered in a pile of blankets. He steps closer to get a better look at you and he doesn't think he's ever seen you look so peaceful. Lashes against the tops of your cheeks, lips parted. The crease between your brows is relaxed, which never happens.

Noah takes a deep breath.

You're alright. He can see that you're safe and sound, at least for now, and that's enough for him. He shuts your door behind him and makes his way back into the main room, taking his shoes off by the door. He takes another deep breath to center himself as he looks around your space, hand finding its way to his hair.

He decides he'll clean up your kitchen and living room. It isn't too bad, and it won't take him too long. He also just... doesn't want to leave yet. He'll wait until you wake up. Make you talk to him, ask what’s up. Probably make you eat something. Then he'll head home.

Sounds like a good plan to him.

Even though your door is shut he still tries to be quiet, making sure to carefully wash and put away your dishes without making too much of a fuss. After the dishes, he throws away all the take-out boxes and water bottles. He even makes a note to take the trash out for you when he's all done, because he knows you would've done it for him.

The constant reminder of you and knowing that you'd do something like this for him, and have, is the motivation he needs to continue. It makes him feel warm all over and he thinks how lucky he is to have someone like you as his best friend.

And he definitely ignores the bitter taste in his mouth at the word best friend.

It's maybe an hour after he's finished, curled up on your couch that now has its pillows in place, and the pile of blankets are neatly folded and put away, that you finally emerge from your room. You rub the sleep out of your eyes, not noticing him on the couch at first, but when you do you make a noise of surprise that has Noah laughing.

"Hey."

He notices the slight flush of your cheeks but ignores it. "Hi?"

"I uh," He scratches the back of his neck, sending you a sheepish smile. "Hadn't talked to you in a few days. Got worried. So did Jolly. Told me to come over. Check on you. You were sleeping so I just," He throws his arms around, gesturing to the space around him, "cleaned up a little? Figured you would appreciate a clean house when you woke up so..."

He's talking too much, he knows it, but he can't seem to stop the word vomit from coming out. Noah knows you wouldn't mind, but he was nervous, especially because all you do is stare at him without saying a word. Stare and stare and stare until you sniff, brows furrowing.

"...Thanks."

You're unusually quiet and it makes his stomach turn again. You sniff again and Noah swears you look like you're on the verge of tears, and he sits up on the couch. He watches you closely as you wring your hands together in front of you, mouth opening and closing as if you want to say something. You don't, and Noah catches the exact moment when your bottom lip trembles, and he's moving before he can even think about it.

"Hey. It's okay. You’re okay."

He tries to keep his voice soft and free of any panic, but his heart is beating so rapidly against his chest he swears you can hear it. You sniff again, head shaking as your lip continues to tremble and he does the only thing he can think of. He pulls you into his arms and presses you into his chest. You don't move for a second, but eventually your arms circle around his waist. You squeeze, tight, but he doesn't mind. He just squeezes you back.

Your body begins to shake as the cries start to rack through you, the sound muffled by the fabric of his shirt. Noah swallows down the lump that was beginning to form, cheek resting on the top of your head. He's always hated when you cry. He himself wasn’t one for much display of emotions, but when it came to the people he cared about, he hated seeing them anything but happy.

Especially you.

He's seen you cry a few times. Well, more than a few times. Sometimes it was over nothing, and then sometimes it was over an incredibly cute dog you'd seen scrolling on Twitter. He didn't mind those, but when it was over something serious, he fucking hated that. He never wanted you to be anything but happy, and whenever you weren’t, it’s like a piece of him breaks.

“What’s wrong?” He whispers into your hair, trying to pull you even closer to him.

“Everything.” You eventually mumble against his chest, sucking in a deep breath as you try to control your tears. “Fucking everything is wrong.”

He fucking hates the way that answer makes him feel. His chest feels like it's on fire, and he swears his heart just fucking broke at how sad you sounded, voice muffled by his shirt. He squeezes you to his chest again.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

He wants you to talk about it, to tell him what's wrong so he can make it better. Noah knows it'll probably be damn near impossible to even do that, but god, he'd try absolutely anything to make your tears stop. You take a long moment to respond, trying to control your breathing, before you eventually shake your head against his chest.

"Not right now."

"Okay.” He mumbles, raising a hand to smooth down your hair. “That's okay, we don't have to."

"Thank you."

You stay like that for a moment, in the middle of your living room. Noah doesn't plan on letting go any time soon, thinking for a split second that he wished he could keep you in his arms forever. If you were there, he'd always know if you were okay. The thought fades before he could think too hard about it when you finally pull away from him, and Noah catches sight of your slight red and blotchy face. He frowns.

He doesn't remember the last time he's ever seen you so sad. So defeated. Whatever was going on really pained you, and he wishes you'd just tell him so he can fix it. Another passing, fleeting thought, but he thinks he'd do just about anything right now to see you smile again.

"Have you eaten?" He breaks the silence between the two of you, not waiting to hear whatever you were planning on saying.

You blink up at him. "Um... no. Not since this morning. Had some fruit and coffee."

"I figured." He guides you towards the couch, practically pushing you onto it. You snort when he grabs a throw blanket and dumps it onto you. "Pick something to watch."

It's not a question, but more of a command, and Noah ignores the way his chest flutters at the small smile you give him. He turned away from you, pushing whatever feeling was brewing inside of him so far down and got his brain to focus. Food. You need food. To be honest, so does he. He’d been so worried about you for the last few hours that he didn’t even think of getting something to eat.

It takes him a few minutes of rummaging around your kitchen to settle on making something easy - instant ramen. He’s surprised you hadn't eaten it all in the week you’ve been off-grid, but thankful nonetheless. Noah's way too impatient to wait any longer to actually cook something, especially knowing you hadn't eaten anything since this morning. Every so often he looked over his shoulder to watch you, wishing you'd say something, but would find you either staring blankly at the television or your phone.

A bitter taste settles in the back of his throat every time he turns back around to the stove. He hated this, and he fucking hated that he couldn't do a goddamn thing about it.

He brings your bowl to you once he's finished, already making a mental note to clean up the mess he had made while cooking. You blink up at him and reach for it, giving him a quiet, "Thank you."

Noah doesn't verbally say anything, just hums out a response as he ventures back into the kitchen to grab you something to drink. When he comes back he notices you had slowly begun to eat, and he feels his shoulders finally relax. Just knowing you ate something eases him, the tension in his body leaving him completely. You're already reaching out for the glass of water in his hand that he happily hands off to you, giving you a gentle smile.

"Need anything else?"

You shake your head, peering up at him. "No. Just want you to come sit with me."

That same fluttery feeling beneath his chest returns and he wishes he could ignore it again, but it doesn't go away. No, it stays perched underneath his chest, as if it's decided that it's making a home there and never leaving. He doesn't say anything, just nods at your request before grabbing his own bowl and a Pepsi you had in the fridge before making his way back to you.

You wait until he's settled on the couch to scoot closer to him, legs pressed flushed together. You're already halfway through your ramen and for a split second he forgets that weird feeling in his chest, instead focusing on the intense pride filling him. He was able to get you to eat, he was able to help out in some way. Knowing you were alright for the most part and it was from his doing made him feel good.

The both of you eat in silence as whatever show you decided to put on plays in the background. He’s just now realized it was The Office, and he huffs out a small laugh at something Michael Scott said. Another one of your comfort shows, something easy.

It isn't until you both are finished with your food and Noah's back in the kitchen cleaning up that you finally speak. He doesn't hear you come up behind him, focused on washing the dishes and making sure everything's clean and good to go, so he can't help but jump when he feels your arms slip around his waist and squeeze.

"Shit." He swears, followed by a breathy chuckle. "You scared me."

You don't say anything to that, just squeeze him harder and he feels you press your face against his back. Then ever so softly, he picks up the faintest, "Thank you," muffled against his back. His face flushes, eyes casting down to the soapy water his hands were currently submerged in. He's glad you can't see the blush on his cheeks, and he fucking hopes you can't hear the way his heart is pounding beneath his chest. Can probably feel it, though, and that makes his face burn even more.

"For what?" He manages to mumble out, resuming his efforts. Your arms squeeze his waist again.

"For being here." You sound so small. "You don't have to be, but you are, and I can't thank you enough for that."

"You'd do it for me." His response comes easily, voice nonchalant because it's true. He knows you'd do the same for him, and the thought has his stomach flipping every which way. "And have done it for me. It's the least I can do."

You're silent after that but don't part from him, and Noah can't help the smile that spreads across his lips at the feeling of you rubbing your face against him. It makes him feel warm all over, and that damned fluttery feeling in his chest is back yet again. You stay like that until he's finished with the dishes, moving with him as he shuffles to the side to dry them off. You don't pick your head up even when he manages to turn in your arms, finally facing you.

Noah's arms wrap around you, pulling you closer to him and now you can rub your face against his chest. He laughs softly, pressing his cheek against the top of your head.

"Still don't wanna talk about it?" He knows he's pressing but he can't help it, a part of him still needs to know what's wrong and how he can fix this for you.

You shake your head. "Not yet. Tomorrow, okay? I just... don't wanna think about it tonight."

"Okay." He thinks he can handle that.

"Thank you." You say again and finally lift your head up from his chest, blinking up at him. There's still a sadness there, roaming around behind your eyes, but not as prevalent as it was earlier. He’s at least done something right. "I'm really fucking lucky to have you, you know that, right?"

The way you're looking up at him is overwhelming, Noah's throat tightening at the softness surrounding your tired eyes. You smile at him and this time it reaches your gaze, not faked but real, and his heart slams against his chest. A thought passes his mind again, something he hasn't thought of in years, and he pushes it back with a hard swallow.

"You're just saying that because you didn't have to do the dishes."

You roll your eyes but that smile never drops from your lips, and Noah thinks he'd like to keep you smiling like that for the rest of his life.

"Shut up. I'm being serious." You're giggling now, eyes crinkling and he catches a glimpse of the real you for the first time in hours - probably days, weeks even.

"So am I." Noah yelps when you pinch his side, your laughter growing louder. "Hey!"

"I'm trying to be nice here, asshole. You can at least try, too."

He softens at that, eyes meeting yours. He's well aware his face is on fire right now, cheeks pink.

"You already know I'm lucky to have you. Didn't realize I had to say it."

Even if he doesn't say it often, he is very lucky. So incredibly lucky to have you in his life, for sticking by him and for understanding him. For always being patient with him. Jolly reminds him occasionally how lucky he is to have you, how all of them are lucky to have someone like you in their lives. He doesn't know what the fuck he or anyone did to be so deserving of you, but dammit, he's fucking thankful for it everyday.

You don't say anything, just continue to beam up at him and Noah can't seem to stop himself, tilting his head down to brush his lips against your forehead. He feels you press further into his chest, if it was even possible, and practically melt in his arms.

He wishes he could keep you here forever, tucked away in his arms. He thinks there isn't much he wouldn't do to keep you safe, to make sure you were okay, and that thought alone scares him. He'd never admit it, at least not out loud, and he tucks that thought away for another time. Or to possibly be never thought of again, he doesn't know. He doesn't really care.

No, all he cares about right now is that you're okay, at least for now, and that you're nestled against his chest like it's the only place you want to be.

And that's enough for him.

#bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfic #mine

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goodlucktai · 24 hours ago

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one of the rotten ones

rottmnt word count: 2k pairing: don & leo, don & OC title borrowed from anthems for a seventeen year old by yeule part of the archer au :) read on ao3

“I don’t think Gio likes me,” Donnie blurts.

He’d feel self-conscious if he was pressed to admit it anywhere else, but he’s in the infirmary, and the only one around to hear him say so is his twin.

They’re moving into hour two of Leo’s “faves” playlist and the fourth consecutive Taylor Swift song even though he swore he put it on shuffle. Leo is going through cabinets and shelves systematically, updating inventory on his phone, while Donnie infodumps about energy storage and projectile dynamics and the breaking strength of crossbow string.

Donatello’s base knowledge of this particular ranged weapon is severely lacking, which is a significant personal problem for him now that he has a sibling with a preference for archery. He needs to be the world’s leading expert on the subject yesterday. He has half a dozen half-formed plans for things like sonar bolts for 3-D mapping, which may or may not have been inspired by the Jupiter Jim Pluto Vacation run.

Only every glance at the project folder simply labeled ‘G-01’ causes an uncomfortable feeling to squirm to life in his stomach, not unlike the Krang tentacles that had attached themselves to his carapace on the day the world didn’t end.

Donnie isn’t good at people. He doesn’t know how they tick, and there are no reliable lines of code or handy user manuals that he can fall back on when he’s mystified by human behavior.

His siblings don’t have the same problem. Leo is perceptive to a degree that borders upon clairvoyance, Mikey is the single-most emotionally intelligent member of their family, Raph is more charming than he gets credit for, and April can talk her way through any closed door, police tape or VIP-only entrance. None of them fumble the way Donnie does when a social interaction goes off-script, like it’s a volleyball that got served his way without the ample warning he needs to be anything approaching passable at the sport.

But he knows he’s not imagining it—the way Gio seems to brace himself when Donnie comes into the room, like he’s expecting a confrontation every time. Like the last thing Donatello could want with him is something good.

Donnie can be a lot. They all can. They come by it honestly, equal parts chaotic lab experiments and their father’s sons. And not every structure is built to withstand hurricane winds. Not every person is equipped to deal with a Hamato level weather event.

But he has never seen Gio flinch away from anyone else.

So he did what he always did when confronted by something outside his formidable repertoire—he took it to Leo.

There had never in Donnie’s life been a problem that couldn’t be made into their problem. It came with twin territory.

And Donnie’s twin in particular is good at translating Donatello and translating other people for Donatello, and jumps on any chance to be helpful and feel wanted, and absolutely loves problems. It’s one of the most annoying and endearing things about him. If there is any trouble within a hundred miles, Leo will find it. He will worm his way into the center of it and then puzzle his way out from the inside. Most other clever and curious people were satisfied by the daily Wordle; Leo would chew through a wall unless he had something more hands-on to occupy his mind with. As polar-opposite as the two of them could be in, in that regard, they were one and the same.

It’s somewhat reassuring to Donnie that Leo’s immediate reaction is plain incredulity. He looks baffled, like Donnie has just started throwing stuff around the room for no reason.

(He knows better. In the medbay, of all places, that would be a death wish. Leo runs a tight ship here and only here.)

“Sorry, you don’t think Gio likes you?” Leo says slowly. “Our Gio? The guy who let you infodump about the mycelial networks of fungi to him for almost two hours, all because Mikey mentioned he was making mushroom stir-fry for dinner?”

Donnie scoffs, but he can’t help but feel warmed by the reminder. Gio had settled right in, the way he always did once he was sure of his welcome, and watched Donnie talk like nothing more interesting existed on this side of the equator.

“His eyes didn’t even glaze over,” Leo goes on, doing what he always does and pressing the advantage. “That’s a new personal best in this family. Even April started looking for a window to climb out of at the thirty minute mark.”

“There was bound to be at least one other mutant turtle in the New York metropolitan area with an appreciation for botany,” Donnie says imperiously, tilting his chin up.

But the worry is still there, firmly rooted, trying to flower. Leo must be able to tell because his frown deepens, playfulness evaporating by the second. He pauses the music and sets his phone down. The room rings in the sudden silence, but it’s not uncomfortable, because it’s a room Donnie exists in with his twin.

“I just want him to like me,” Donnie says. It’s a childish want, it makes him feel half his age, but it’s true.

He was never one of those human kids lingering near the playground, on the edge of the classroom, desperate to fit in. He was never on the outs because he never had the chance to be. But this is probably what that would have felt like.

Giorgio is quiet by default, absorbing everything with dark brown eyes, always pausing to think before speaking in a low, flat register that is becoming as familiar to Donnie as Raph’s comforting rumbles and Mikey’s energetic shrieks and Leo’s sweet or sly laughter.

He hasn’t been anything but kind since he got here. He saved Leo, brought him home from a place it should have been impossible to come home from, so Donatello would put up with any manner of assholery from that quarter in exchange—but it’s not that at all.

Once Gio’s initial guard goes up and then comes down, once they outlive that moment of consideration that verges upon scrutiny without ever crossing the line, the eldest turtle softens for any younger one like clockwork. He indulges whatever noise or nonsense they’ve brought with them like there is no better use of his time.

It doesn’t seem like a lie. But Donnie is the least qualified person he knows to make that judgement call.

There’s a lot at stake if he’s wrong, is all.

Leo looks like Donnie has taken a melon baller to his insides just for fun.

“I’d know if he didn’t like you,” Leo says with absolute certainty. And he probably would. And he would take it so personally. He wouldn’t let Gio know a single moment’s rest until the spotted turtle had a coming-to-Jesus moment and acknowledged his wrongdoings in canceled Youtuber apology video format.

Since that isn’t the reality they live in—and Leo’s daily relentless pestering of Gio is harmless and little-sibling-shaped and decidedly not mean-spirited by any stretch of the imagination—some small part of the tight, unhappy feeling in Donnie’s heart has no choice but to accept that as the compelling argument it is.

“He probably misses you, Tello,” Leo adds, something softening in his face that it hurts to look directly at. “His you, I mean. I know I would be a train wreck cosplaying as a person if I had to go someplace I’d never see you again. Can you imagine how screwed-up I’d be?”

Donnie’s whole soul shudders at the idea, at the nightmare that almost came true when the portal closed around the Technodrome and as good as severed Donnie clean down the middle. At the glimpse of a life he’d be forced to live with one leg, one lung, one arm, one eye, half a heart.

“That’ll never happen,” he says, a little too loud.

“You’re stuck with me,” Leo agrees. He means it, Donnie can tell—even after that almost-nightmare he put his family through, he means it. It’s one thing to take the nuclear option at the actual on-paper end of the world, it’s another to sit in a safe, warmly-lit room with his twin brother and try to conceive of an existence in which their dynamic duo was whittled down to a solo act.

When they were little, Donnie once tried to explain how big the unobservable universe was. He told Leo that light from the big bang hadn’t reached Earth from all the way over there yet. It was a concept he struggled with as a child, that something could be so unknowable and immeasurable.

“That’s how big my ‘I love you’ is,” he said, all of seven years old and putting it into words the best way he knew how.

“I love you bigger than that,” Leo said promptly.

“Ugh, you can’t,” Donnie said, frustrated at his twin for always trying to one-up him, for not understanding the huge thing Donnie was trying to compress and fit into his hands. “It’s not possible.”

“It is,” Leo said firmly, eyes gold to match Donnie’s, warm and shining in a way that was all his own. “I do.”

And then Leo went on to prove it. In a way Donnie never would have wanted him to—in an explosion that split the sky and left flash burns in their eyes, and the hollow pain of a surgical removal as the still-beating heart of their family was cut away, and the discordant electronic fuzz where a beloved voice had been rushing through last words, replaced by the sound of a radio without a signal, a device unpaired—but he proved it in a thousand other ways, too.

He was even proving it now, this afternoon he spent leaning on a forearm crutch and ambling around to various shelves and cabinets to keep up with his stock of medical supplies that had been severely depleted in the weeks after the invasion. Leo had carried bandaids and lidocaine spray in a tiny tote bag since he was two feet tall. He couldn’t stop bad things from happening but he could try to make the bad things better.

He’s looking at Donnie like he would right every wrong for him if he knew where to start. Like the unobservable universe was small enough to fit in his pocket compared to the lengths Leonardo would go for Donatello.

Leo is the younger twin, but sometimes the only thing there is for Donnie to do is shuffle over and bonk their foreheads together and believe him.

“If Gigi hated you, he wouldn’t be a Hamato,” Leo announces, muffled and silly and entirely correct. “It’s a required qualification. You must have missed that meeting with HR.” And then, because it’s important, he whispers, “I promise, okay?”

“Okay,” Donnie whispers back.

At about that moment, TSwift’s I Think He Knows comes on, proving once and for all that there is actually no way Leo’s playlist is on shuffle. The weighted moment they’re holding on tight to transitions into a lighter one that gets flung haphazardly around as an immediate life-or-death struggle for the phone ensues.

Stalemate is only reached when Splinter barges in to read them the riot act for daring to roughhouse while they had a non-zero number of broken bones between the two of them. Leo is bright-eyed with mischief and already fast-talking their way out of trouble the same effortless way April can rattle off her brothers’ favorite coffee orders, and Donnie’s worry has been soundly evicted, all its belongings in boxes in the yard.

Sitting around has never been his style. He’s a turtle of discovery and invention. And now that he’s been reassured that the absolute worst-case scenario is not on the table—that it, in fact, was never on the table to begin with—curiosity rears its head and snaps up the dregs of anxiety like a hungry wolfhound who mistook it for an unattended rack of lamb.

Hypothesis: Georgie isn’t being weird out of dislike of Donatello. Leo’s certain he’s not, so certain that he was willing to promise, point-blank and absolute, instead of being tricky and sly in the name of cheering Donnie up instead. Leo even offered a much more palatable alternative, but further evidentiary support is required.

So after dinner a week later, as the whole family crowds comfortably around the banana split bar spilling across the entire kitchen island and argues over which toppings Gio and Casey should stack their bowls with first, Donnie blurts, “Can I see your crossbow?”

Giorgio really is one of the clowns in this circus. He proves it by putting his ice cream down, and picking the bow up from where it was relegated to the bench seat where everyone tosses their coats and shoes when they get home, and passing it right over. No normal person would put a loaded weapon in Donnie’s hands just because he asked nicely.

As if in tacit agreement, both of Casey’s eyebrows shoot toward his hairline and Raph makes incredulous scoffing noises. April says, “You did not just—” at the same time Splinter blusters, “Purple, you fire that thing off in this house even once and I am grounding you from everything you know and love, including Orange!” and Donnie screeches, over Mikey and Leo’s hysterical laughter, “I can be trusted with projectile weaponry!”

The crossbow has been carefully maintained, but it hasn’t been used in weeks that Donnie is aware of. They’ve all stuck pretty close to home since the invasion, and it’s not like Gio knows anyone but them—it’s not like they need firepower for grocery hauls or pizza runs, though, knowing their luck, that could change any given day.

But Gio still cleans it regularly, and he’s become a familiar sight at the kitchen table; parts spread out on an oil-stained rag, meticulous and methodical with the one belonging he brought here with him from the future other than the clothes on his back and the colorful friendship bracelet on his right wrist.

It’s important to him, clearly, but he’s letting Donnie handle it with an indulgent look on his face. Like there are no better hands to leave it in than his little brother’s.

Because he’s at risk of having a whole emotion about that out loud, where his entire family is assembled to witness it, Donnie quickly turns his mind onto the much safer road of gadgetry.

He has never actually held a crossbow before, has never built or used one, but he’s been doing a lot of research. He has a lot of ideas. He wants to print mechanical broadhead arrows with explosive tips, or tear gas canisters, or EMP charges. It’s a brand new world of creative chaos and that’s not even touching all the build customizations Donnie has in mind. His fingers are already itching to dismantle and reassemble the machine into something better, something that won’t ever fail, something his big brother will love.

Only—huh. What feels like a low-level electric current thrums to quiet life like it was waiting to be noticed by the right pair of eyes, just enough of a static shock to get his attention and guide his hand to the rail. Glowing purple does the work of an allen wrench in seconds and a handful of screws clatter to the table. Donnie removes the scope in one sure motion, and moves on to snap the rail from the stock.

Raph says, low and warning, “Donnie,” intimately familiar with gremlin gadget mode and all the kitchen appliances and shared toys destroyed in Donnie’s early years in the name of science. But he’s not breaking this time, he’s just looking.

He flips the rail over in his hands and finds the source of that odd electricity-conductive feeling. Hidden on the underside is a small embossed logo that Donnie would recognize anywhere, because it’s his.

“A-ha!” he says, absurdly pleased with the discovery. “A Genius Built mod.”

The rail was one of the first things he’d had in mind to upgrade, but it looks like he’d beaten himself to the punch.

“With a custom rail, we can add whatever attachments we want to the stock, way beyond just an average scope or a rangefinder,” Donnie says eagerly, his mind darting ahead in three different directions at once. “The world is our oyster, Georgie!”

He can’t help grinning. His logo on Gio’s prized possession is that last little bit of evidence he needed. He’s never been happier to be wrong, and will endure Leo’s smugness for an unheard of two entire business days before initiating retaliation.

No version of Donatello would put that mark on anything unless he really cared about it.

And Gio wouldn’t lift the rail from Donnie’s hands, and touch his thumb to that stylized “D” as if to prove to himself that it was real, an expression of painful wistful longing on his face, unless he really cared, too.

#rise of the tmnt #rottmnt #hamato donatello #hamato leonardo #disaster twins #the archer au #my writing #tmnt fic

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suspiciouslackofclowns · 3 days ago

Text

She thought that coming up the hill would be the hardest part, but that proves to be wrong once she’s at the top.

Max hadn’t had the courage to visit by herself. Hadn’t wanted to experience the awkwardness of being both alone and un-alone, talking to someone and no one.

Most likely no one.

She thought about buying a Ouija board, but Robin very narrowly talked her out of it.

This seemed like a better alternative anyway.

Of all the birthdays she knows her brother spent alone, held up in his room with no gifts or cake because he claimed to not care about that shit, she figured that he shouldn’t get to choose this time.

So, there’s a blanket spread out on the grass with an unopened cake from Melvald’s on top, and a bouquet of flowers.

“Man, he would’ve called this gay,” Steve muses.

He leans against his hand, legs semi-stretched beside him, admiring the inscription on the headstone like it’s nothing more than a rock with writing on it.

And maybe, to him, it isn’t.

Max huffs a laugh, but it’s clipped near the end. Heavy, when her throat bobs, and she nods as tears slip down her cheeks.

“He’d call me a shithead and probably still try to steal a slice when nobody was looking,” Max says with a chuckle.

Steve huffs amusedly and shrugs.

“He was a funny guy.”

His gaze wanders off as he tugs some blades of grass up from the ground, snapping and sprinkling them into a small pile at his side with his free hand.

The finality to his words has Max’s brows drawing together.

She often wonders if, maybe, she and Steve never clicked for a reason, and if she probably shouldn’t have invited him up here when Robin suggested it.

Trust me, she had said. Take Steve, if you take anyone.

“Guess so,” Max murmurs.

Her eyes wander down to the cake sitting between them, blank, just as it was on the shelf. She wipes her eyes and thinks about reaching out to pop the plastic lid off when Steve shifts.

“Wasn’t really big on sweets,” he says.

Max blinks at him.

“What?”

“Billy,” Steve says, glancing over at her and gesturing vaguely to the headstone. “He didn’t like sweets.”

She stares for a long moment, searching her mind for a protest. Comes up blank when she tries to think of the two of them getting ice cream or something together, but she can’t recall him ever ordering anything for himself.

Across the blanket, Steve hums amusedly and smiles to himself, fiddling with a single grass blade between his fingers.

“He liked the apple pie at the diner, though. With a scoop of plain vanilla ice cream.”

“You guys went to the diner together?”

Steve’s face flushes a light pink and he shrugs again.

“Yeah? Quite a bit, actually. I think they still have his senior photo up by the register. Guy could demolish a burger.”

Max’s eyes mist over again, but she chews her lip and nods. Pushes a hand through her hair and turns her gaze down toward the blanket.

“I always thought he was, like, out partying or something.”

“We partied,” Steve admits. Shifts and lays down on his side, propping his head up in his hand. “But we usually… found somewhere quiet and just talked. Sometimes at the diner, sometimes the quarry, I think even the pool once or twice.”

He suppresses a grin as he thinks to himself, lightly nudging his sneaker against the stone. Like he’s unaware that it’s even there.

The line between Max’s brows deepens.

“If you guys were so close, then why weren’t you at his funeral?” she snaps.

Immediately, she cups a hand over her mouth, eyes widening as Steve glances at her again.

His brown eyes grow bigger for just a moment.

“I don’t know,” he confesses. A new heat rises to the surface of his skin, eyes becoming glassy. “Felt like maybe I wasn’t supposed…” he pauses to clear his throat before continuing, “I, ah, visit a lot, though.”

“You do?” Max blurts.

Steve nods. Nudges the slightly older, more brittle bouquet lying next to the fresh one with the tip of his shoe.

“Who do you think leaves the flowers?”

With her hand still clamped over her mouth, Max stares at him again.

“How often do you come here?”

“Oh, just… whenever,” he says. “Maybe like three or more times a week?”

“Three or more times a week?”

Now, Steve sits up, brows drawing together.

“What’s your deal? If I knew you were gonna freak out and yell at me about everything I say, I wouldn’t have agreed to come up here.”

Max holds her hands out in front of her.

“Okay, no, you’re right, I’m sorry,” she says. Sighs and rubs a hand over her face. “I guess I just… I dunno, we were never close, but I kinda always thought I knew him best. Now I’m finding out you guys were apparently linked at the hip, and he never… I didn’t even know he didn’t like sweet stuff…”

Her skin grows hot and her eyes well with tears again. Chapped and boiling over.

Steve’s expression relaxes, and he drops his shoulders.

“He wasn’t just secretive with you. Most of what I learned about him was just by observing,” Steve reassures. Then chuckles. “He was always calling me these stupid nicknames, and the one time I called him something back — angel face — he flipped and yelled at me. No idea why.”

Max sniffles and wipes her eyes with her palms, accepting the small bundle of napkins when Steve passes it over to her.

“Angel face?” she asks.

Suddenly, Steve looks away bashfully.

“Dunno, it was kind of a spur of the moment thing I said. He hated it, so I never used nicknames again.”

Max shakes her head, which earns a puzzled look.

“He didn’t hate nicknames,” she says. Glances briefly at the headstone and then away again. “Angel face is what his mom called him.” It feels like a betrayal, to say it out loud, and Max winces. “I overheard Neil mention it in their arguments once or twice.”

She fiddles with her pant leg in her lap for a moment. Looks up to see Steve’s eyes nearly overflowing with tears, staring at the headstone.

“Oh,” he croaks.

The sight, the sound of his voice has Max’s throat going tight.

She shifts in place. Watches as Steve takes a shaky breath and reaches up to wipe his eyes with the heel of his palm. Then, she’s pushing herself up and shuffling across the blanket on her knees, reaching her arms around his shoulders.

At first, he doesn’t react. Then there’s an arm stretching around her back.

Hugging him is exactly like she thought it would be. Like he’s comforting her, and not the other way around. Steady, grounding, like she knows him to be for others.

She makes a mental note to thank Robin later on.

“He really was a funny guy.”

#harringrove #steve & max #steve harrington #max mayfield #billy hargrove #angst #hurt/comfort #billy is dead #tw grief #ficlet #my writing #unedited

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starsinmylatte · 3 days ago

Note

I am fellow of Rick flags Sr lover I I don’t know if you are still taking requests for Rick flags if you are not then please disregard this but if you are

I was wondering if I could ask NSFW alphabet X and K thank you so very much. I really do hope you enjoy your day and I love your work

Hi, hi! I absolutely am still drooling about this man taking requests for him 🙂‍↕️. Thank you for the super sweet compliments! 💕

Cw: fem!reader, Breeding kink/pregnancy kink, age gap, brat taming, overstim

X: I really thought about just leaving the screenshot of his crotch close-up here with nothing else added…. but allow me to elaborate. This man is HUNG. Rick Flag Sr has a massive Flag pole (ha) with big, heavy breeding balls to match.

He’s circumcised and only slightly above average length, but his girth is no laughing matter, even when he's flaccid. 100% a shower; you know exactly what he's working with. Rick has to prepare his partners extensively to take him, or they just have to be ready for the stretch of a lifetime.

No part of this man is small, and his military service has left him deliciously toned. His biceps are the best pillows in the world, and if you kiss along the contours of his muscles or scars, his hefty cock gives a delicious little twitch. Rick’s body is toned because of his occupation, not for vanity reasons, but he can't lie and say that he's not flattered (and more than a little aroused) when you show appreciation for his rugged body.

K: Oh, I've been waiting for this one. With a dedicated partner he loves, Rick develops the breeding kink of all time.

Before falling for you, Rick would've said that he's too old and jaded to do any of that shit ever again. He’s a tough army man who had a son at a very young age with a wife he grew to dislike, and that's gonna leave some deep scars. He likely missed out on a lot of her pregnancy and Rick Jr’s childhood because of deployments, and he also has a lot of guilt around that. It only gets worse when his son dies in Corto Maltese….. but

You come into his life and show him the love and understanding that he didn't think he would ever receive from another human. His pain and guilt are eased immensely by your gentle, soothing compassion and sparkling intelligence as you work through any relationship hurdles. Rick begins to understand more and more about himself and why his marriage failed (caused by both faults from him and his ex-wife), and you encourage him to be an even better man.

Rick finds himself considering marriage once again, but he still winces every time he thinks about how you're a younger woman and would probably want children. You're too aware of his pain to bring the subject up, but he worries that staying with him would rob you of the joys of motherhood. However, that all disappears one night.

Rick had been invited to countless family gatherings since his string of tragedies but couldn’t bear the thought of being stuck in a room full of happy people who pitied him. Through your gentle support, he finally agreed to give a very small get-together a try, which is how Rick found himself knocking on the door of his cousin's house one night for dinner around Christmas.

It took a moment, but a man who vaguely resembled a very tired, younger Rick with no beard opened the door, chuckling softly. "Sorry, the little one is not happy at the moment. We're running behind and haven't even started cooking yet."

It had been so long since Rick had seen his family that he didn't know they had just welcomed their first child. He froze and was prepared to reschedule for another night, but your eyes lit up, "Oh, it's not a problem at all."

Before Rick could blink, you had already introduced yourself and offered a hand in the kitchen. In no time, you were giggling and chatting with his cousin's wife, rocking their baby in your arms as the other woman stirred a pot simmering away on the stovetop. Rick was sitting on the sofa, drinking a beer and conversing with his cousin, but his warm, brown gaze was fixed on you. You looked nothing short of angelic underneath the glow of the Christmas lights as you cooed at the baby in her little holiday outfit. Something just clicked in his brain, and he understood. He wanted to see you just like this, except in your own home, with your baby.

From there, it only took a few days for Rick's brain to devolve into visions of you swollen with his child, waddling around your home as you nested and decorated the nursery. He wanted to massage your aching back and breasts, to pamper you like a goddamn princess- no, a queen who wanted for nothing. Rick had gone from casually looking at rings to feverishly checking the shipment status of one, all so he could do things correctly and set a diamond on your pretty finger before giving you his baby.

Age Gap: You cannot look me in the digital eyes and tell me Rick didn't immediately pop a boner when Ilana said that she liked older men. He is absolutely not one of those old creeps who wants some innocent girl with no life experience, but there's something so goddamn hot about a strong, capable younger woman who freely and clearly chooses him above men her age.

A little bit of teasing/brat-taming also turns him way the hell on. Use your wit to be snarky, and don't be surprised if you find yourself thrown on the bed with Rick coaxing orgasm after orgasm from your tired body with his hands and tongue.... just wait until you get to the point where he gives you his heavy, aching cock.

NSFW alphabet link here!

#Lyria responds #I wrote this while in the overwatch comp queue lmao #*most of it #i kind of could not shut up about this one #oopsie #creature commandos #rick flag sr #rick flag sr x reader #old man posting #dcu x reader #creature commandos x reader

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