#i don't really want to argue about it though
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prefect's bathroom - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 409
"This is stupid," Sirius murmured, staring into the abyss of the water in front of him.
"You'll be fine," Remus replied soothingly, shucking his shirt and slipping into the huge pool.
Normally, Sirius would have been distracted by a shirtless Remus Lupin, but he was too busy hiding his nerves. Why did he let it slip that he'd never learned to swim?
"You know, I don't need to learn this," he said, taking a step back. "Who needs to know it, really? I'll be just fine."
But Remus, just sent him an eyeroll and extended a hand. "C'mon, Pads. I'm right here."
Muttering about dying in the Prefects' Bathroom, Sirius slipped into the water, trying not to flail his arms in panic even has his bare foot hit the floor, the water only coming up to his sternum. "Alright," he breathed, slowly taking Remus's hand and ignoring the way sparks shot through his body. "I'm not dead yet."
"Let's start by floating," Remus said softly, pulling Sirius closer and placing a hand at the small of his back. Internally, Sirius's brain short-circuited at the touch, but he kept his face neutral. "Lean back and float on your back. I'll hold you up."
He wanted to protest. To argue, or point out that his hair would get wet. But instead, he slowly eased back, kicking his feet up and falling slowly into Remus's waiting arms.
And after a moment of sheer panic, he found himself weightless. Suspended in the pool of warm water, ears muffled by the liquid, all Sirius could feel was heat and two hands on his back. All he could see was Remus's eyes gazing into his own. And oh, it was perfect. Remus holding him, keeping him safe. He'd had plenty of trysts in broom cupboards but somehow this was the most intimate thing he'd ever experienced.
Neither of them looked away. The heat and tension just built steadily as they gazed at each other, the swirling of water around them adding to the feeling of being in some strange magical oasis. When Remus's hand on his back applied pressure and Sirius kicked back up, he felt breathless even though he hadn't been exerting himself.
"Good. You, er, did well," Remus said, scratching at the back of his neck and blushing a bit.
"Thanks. For holding me," Sirius said softly, reaching up to wipe a droplet of water from Remus's jaw.
"Anytime," the taller boy whispered.
#marauders#harry potter#marauders era#marauders fandom#fanfic#harry potter marauders#the marauders#hp marauders#marauders harry potter#the marauders era#the maruaders#marauder era#marauders fanfiction#marauders fic#remus lupin x sirius black#remus lupin and sirius black#sirius black x remus lupin#sirius and remus#remus loves sirius#sirius loves remus#remus x sirius#sirius black#remus john lupin#remus lupin#wolfstar fic#wolfstar#wolfstarmicrofic#wolfstar microfic
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Hi. I love your writings. After I discovered Tumblr and your account... I don't know if I've had any day without coming back here... I had a request.
Bathroom sex with Minghao. It has been going on in my mind all day... Either bathtub or shower.
Even though he's not so masculine like others... I feel like he has an incredible core strength. So maybe putting the reader against the wall? Also if you're comfortable, could you add the reader as someone who's overweight and gets insecure from time to time.
It's like Minghao is comforting them through showing how beautiful they are through intimacy? Feels like something he would do.
Love your writing. Take care
bath sex with minghao
WARNINGS: bath sex, insecurities, praising, nipple sucking, penetrative sex, a tear dropping here or there...
a/n: thank you my love for making me part of your routine đđ I luv seeing you here, you are soooo sweet!! sorry for making u wait for so long đ„ș love you too, take care of yourself, and drink lots of water plsss
youâd been spiraling about it all damn day. the way minghaoâs hands just feltâlong fingers brushing your skin in passing, his touch so casual but also so intentional. it stuck to you like a tattoo, made your brain fuzzy. you didnât even realize it, but the itch of your insecurities had been gnawing at you. maybe it was that girl in line earlier with the perfect ass and the confidence to match, or maybe it was just the mirror, the way it always reflected every single thing you couldnât fix.
but minghao sees you, actually sees you, and it ruins you every time.
âyouâve been quiet all day,â he says from the bathroom doorway, his head tilted like heâs already piecing you apart, trying to read the shit you donât say. âwhatâs going on in that pretty head of yours?â
you donât answer right awayâcanât, reallyâbecause heâs standing there in just his sweatpants, waistband hanging low, hair still damp from his post-workout shower. fucking unreal. and you hate it, the way you almost flinch at the word âpretty,â because yeah, he means it, but your brain wonât let you believe it.
ânothing,â you lie, but your voice cracks. his eyes narrow.
âbullshit.â
you huff, looking anywhere but him. âitâs not a big deal. justâugh, i donât know, okay? can we not do this tonight?â
but of course, minghao doesnât take that. doesnât let you slip into your head and drown in it. instead, he steps in, closing the door softly behind him, like heâs locking the world out. âyou know you canât bullshit me, baby. talk to me.â
and then heâs right in front of you, hands sliding over your arms, thumbs skimming your skin like heâs earthing you.
you mumble, âi justâi donât feel good today, okay? like⊠about myself.â
his brows pull together, and you hate that he looks hurt on your behalf. ây/n,â he says, his voice softer now, âwhat the hell are you talking about?â
âyou wouldnât get it,â you mutter, but the words catch when he lifts your chin with two fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze.
âtry me.â
and fuck, heâs patient, doesnât rush you, just waits while his thumbs start rubbing little circles on your hips. finally, you crack. âi just⊠sometimes itâs hard, okay? i see all these girls who look perfect, and then thereâs me. i donât even know why youââ
âdonât,â he cuts you off, firmly. âdonât finsh it, donât do that. donât talk about yourself like that. do you know how fucking beautiful you are? like, actually?â
you laugh, but itâs bitter, because itâs not something you believe. âhaoââ
he doesnât let you finish, leaning in to kiss you, like heâs trying to rewrite whatever nonsenseâs looping in your head. his lips move with yours, one hand sliding up your back, the other curling around your waist, and itâs so easy to melt into him, to forget everything else.
âiâm serious,â he murmurs against your mouth. âyouâre the most gorgeous person iâve ever seen. i love every. fucking. inch. of you.â
you want to argue, but then his hands are tugging at your shirt, and the air shifts. he pulls back just enough to look at you. âcan i?â
your nod is shaky, he peels your shirt off like itâs a ritual, and when he sees the hesitance in your eyes, he leans in to kiss your shoulder, your collarbone, every patch of skin he uncovers.
heâs backing you up against the shower wall, his breath hot against your neck as he trails kisses down your jaw.
âhao,â you whisper, barely able to get the word out before heâs hooking your legs around his waist, his strength catching you like itâs nothing. âwait, iâmââ
âyouâre fucking stunning,â he says, cutting you off, his lips crashing into yours again. âand iâm gonna make sure you never forget it.â
the sound of the water hitting the tile was loud, drowning out every thought in your head except him. minghao was everywhereâhands firm on your thighs, lips pressed to your chest, tongue teasing your nipples until you were squirming. the spray soaked through what little clothing you both had left, making the fabric cling before he shoved his pants and boxers down with one hand, the wet heap hitting the floor with an exaggerated plop.
âdidnât know your pants were that heavy,â you giggled. he smirked before leaning in to kiss you again.
âfocus,â he murmured. his hips pressed forward, and you gasped when his cock brushed against your pussyâhard and ready, like it always was when it came to you. it was one of those things that made you feel⊠better, somehow. like maybe he really did mean all the things he said about how he wanted you, how he needed you. not that youâd ever admit itâgod, no, heâd never let you live it down.
you squirmed against him, suddenly hyperaware of how high he had you hoisted. âhao, iââ
ârelax,â he interrupted. âiâve got you.â
âbut what ifâwhat if i fall?â
his jaw tensed, his hands tightened on you. âyou wonât fall, y/n. do you trust me?â
you nodded, but it wasnât enough for him. his eyes narrowed. âsay it.â
your voice cracked. âi trust you.â
âgood,â he said, but there was a shimmer of guilt in his expression when he saw the tears welling in your eyes. his voice softened immediately. âhey, babyâfuck, iâm sorry. didnât mean to sound so harsh. youâre safe, okay? i promise.â
his lips brushed your cheek, catching the tear that spilled over, and you sniffled, clinging to him tighter. his forehead pressed to yours as he whispered, âyouâre safe with me. i swear.â
and then he rolled his hips, sliding into you, and whatever insecurity youâd been holding onto was goneâjust gone. all you could feel was him, thick and deep, stretching you until your head spun. he groaned, his breath hitching as he bottomed out. âyou feel so fucking good, baby. perfect. perfect.â
your fingers dug into his shoulders, a whimper slipping past your lips as he pulled back and thrust again, deep. the angle made you gasp, made your whole body shake in his arms. âhao,â you choked out, overwhelmed, and he just smiled against your neck.
âthatâs it babe,â he murmured, picking up his pace, his hips slapping against yours. âsee? i told you, baby. you donât have to worry about anything. iâve got you. always.â
his words melted into the steam around you, and soon you werenât sure if it was water or sweat trailing down your body. he fucked you, his grip on you steady and unrelenting, making it impossible to think about anything but the way he filled you, the way he made you feel like you were his.
âshitâfuck, hao, iâm gonnaââ
âi know,â he cut in, his voice thick and breathless, but that smug grin never wavered. âlet go for me, baby. youâre so fucking beautiful when you cum. let me see you.â
and when you didâwhen your body clenched around him and your moan echoed in the steam-filled spaceâhe followed right after, his hips stuttering as he buried himself as deep as he could go. his head fell to your shoulder, his breath hot against your skin as he held you close, neither of you caring about the water still raining down around you.
âsee?â he said after a moment, pulling back enough to look at you. his smile was soft now, tender. âtold you I wouldnât let you fall.â
#seventeen imagines#seventeen reactions#seventeen x reader#seventeen scenarios#seventeen headcanons#svt imagines#seventeen#seventeen smut#svt smut#minghao smut#minghao fanfic#minghao imagine#minghao x reader#minghao x y/n#minghao x you#minghao x oc#the8 smut#the8 x reader#the8 seventeen#the8 imagines#minghao#xu minghao#svt#minghao seventeen#minghao imagines#minghao reactions#seo myungho
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Kade was starting to get a little antsy at the prodding but he wasn't blaming Chloe for it. She had every right to be curious, to worry about him. Last night's episode centered around her and it would make sense to any logical person that she would blame herself even if it wasn't her fault. And it wasn't. "I've been neglecting things for awhile. Even before you and I..." How did he describe the change between her winning a drinking contest between the two of them and what had happened in the bathtub? They weren't dating, even though he would absolutely consider her his girlfriend if he was given permission. But they were something, right? "Seeing my therapist might have helped..." He'd neglected that too, thinking if he just buried himself in work that he'd be too busy for his mind to catch up with him. Unfortunately that seemed to play a big part in his downfall.
"You're not a loser," he argued. "I think we both have a lot of shit we deal with inside of us that comes from different places. I know you don't feel that way but I let the tiny worry that you might not want anything to do with me because of who I am and what I deal with be louder than the voice that knows better." That part of him knew she cared, couldn't deny it. Couldn't let her deny it either, really. It was too obvious. "Can we talk about that stuff later?" If there needed to be more conversation about it, anyway. Kade just needed a break. "If it was an expense to begin with I'm sure we had insurance on it. Shouldn't be hard to get you a new one today." He could see that the conversation was bothering her but he wasn't letting it go just yet. "Hey - this isn't the same as me getting you a gift. Strictly from a business standpoint, you need a new phone. My company pays for that. That's not even really just me. The whole Conroy family operates out of the same company. Makes it easier for us. It's a business expense. Easy to fix. Had to replace my own three times last year."
"Spare sheets are in the linen closet in the hall. I'll help you make the bed. Not that you would know," he teased. "But the spare room is freezing. If we stay in my room I'll let you turn on the floors."
That image of hime will never leave her mind. She knows it's a bold thing to say, but she knows in her gut, it will stay with her. Letting out a small sigh, she hated herself for playing with his mind and emotions. "In what way? If you were to be honest now, what would you say about where you were mentally?" She knew Grace said he couldn't be pushed, but she needed to try. "And would this have built up the way it did if you were seeing your therapist more regularly?" She didn't want to scold him, but she wanted to support him, which means scheduling therapy appointments, both as his assistant and his girlfriend- whoa. The subtlety that thought came to her stunned her for a second, abort, abort, abort. Looking back at him forcefully focusing on him to deter her own inner spiral.
Smiling and letting out a soft chuckle at the thought of slapping him across the face, her facial expression soured the more he divulged his inner thoughts. "Wow, those thoughts either really hate me or are out to get you." She tried to joke. She could see he was embarrassed and her heart hurt for him because he had no reason for it. "You know I don't feel that way right?" She knew he admitted it was a stupid thought, but she wanted him to hear it from her. "Especially when I'm not 'dealing' with you. If anything, you're 'dealing' with me. You have a legitimate diagnosis to back up your stuff, I'm just... a naive and gullible idiot." Chuckling at her own expense. "I don't know," She said awkwardly disliking any talk around money, specifically someone else buying her anything. "It is an expense, technically, but I can get my own phone. You pay be very well to be able to afford a new one." She felt so awkward as if she had insects crawling underneath her skin, "It's fine, I can buy it." She said quickly, desperate for this conversation to be over, "I'll buy it later, or tomorrow, or whenever." She nodded. "You know, I really like getting back into bed idea. Where are your spare sheets? I can go make the bed, or we can use that guest room I've been neglecting."
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I've been having crazy Stancest brain rot thinking about an AU where they don't have the portal incident and instead have crazy marathon hate sex instead (Inspired by some amazing art by @CoreArde on Twitter) and I thought it'd be fun to share that with you.
They start off arguing in the lab and then oops they're fucking on the lab floor, and they really should be thinking this through but nope now they're upstairs fucking on the kitchen table and okay maybe now they'll finally talk about it nah, they're fucking in Ford's bed now.
It starts off as rough hate sex getting out years of frustration, but by the time they make it to the kitchen its become insanely desperate and cloying because they missed each other, and their bodies fit so well together, and GOD how could they have not been doing this all time? They're going at it so long that they basically end up passed out in Ford's bed by the end, and Stan's not going to be sitting down for a while after this. He's probably just happy to be sleeping in a bed, but Ford is trying to figure out how he got so far from the initial plan.
Even better if the two of them have been harboring feelings for years and never acted on it, because they get the one-two punch of all the weight of their time apart and processing the fact that OH GOD I JUST FUCKED MY BROTHER (which of course they both wanted to do but still).
I have no idea what would happen after that, but both of them waking up sore, sweat soaked, sticky with cum (some still inside Stan because of course Ford didn't use a condom this wasn't supposed to happen) after having gone at each other like rabbits in heat despite never having expressed their attraction to each other before is a hilarious and hot idea to me. What do you think?
HI THERE ANON. i am so fucking sorry that i left you waiting for so long about this, but i need you to know it's because i was FUCKING OBSESSED with this. like just absolutely beside myself over it, and i refused to respond until i had a chance to sit down and respond PROPERLY.
cause uh YEAH FRIEND i know the exact fucking piece of art (explicit) you're talking about, because it's INCREDIBLE. and in case you didn't know, the artist is over here too and shares some fucking fantastic writing and headcanons also! (seriously, go check out @/cartoonsinthemorning if you haven't. and cart, i hope you don't mind that anon and i both kinda lost our minds about your art over here! i genuinely have no idea what tag etiquette is on this site and didn't wanna bombard you, but you did this. again.)
i'll be honest, anon, this kinda got away from me (fucking shocker) and i am too tired to do any legit editing of it right now, so please forgive any typos or weirdness! i'll try and clean it up before it eventually goes up on ao3. but thank you for such a LOVELY ask because this was so hot, and so inspiring, and i hope i did a little justice to your idea and cart's gorgeous art!
--- Ford isn't entirely sure how it had started. His memory, his perception of time, his ability to follow a linear order of events -- all if it is less than reliable at the moment, so he can't entirely blame himself for losing track of things here and there. But the jump between trying to wrestle his journal out of Stan's hands to trying to wrestle Stan out of his dingey jeans is a jarring transition to lose in the dull static that's been edging around his awareness for weeks now.Â
Not jarring enough to stop him, though.Â
He thinks, vaguely, while he's blindly tugging at Stan's denim, that there's a concerningly high likelihood that he's hallucinating. His head is swimming in so much caffeine and adrenaline that he doesn't even feel the rough concrete of the lab floor under his knees -- maybe that isn't where he is? Maybe he'd nodded off without realizing. Maybe he's going to come to with another lapful of polaroids and a new humiliating tattoo.Â
Maybe, maybe, maybe -- he can reckon with a probability model later. For the first time in what feels like months, the stability of his perceived reality is not actually at the forefront of Ford's mind.
Pressing in on him harder than the doubt, harder than the disassociation from his physical body, and harder than the threat of the creature lingering in the depths of his subconscious is anger. It feels like a beacon in the muddled, fuzzy mess inside his head, something bright and real and his. It's searing through him, slicing away all the frayed edges of his paranoia and doubt like a hot blade through so much butter.Â
Ford clings to the sharp edges of that anger and feels more alert than he has in weeks.Â
He can't remember how their bickering had taken this particular turn, but if he's liable to lose his eyes and his life in the next few days, Ford will be fucking damned if he squanders the opportunity. He knows he's made a mess of things, that he's made the sorts of mistakes that can't and frankly shouldn't be forgiven.Â
But he also knows with blinding, white hot certainty that he's only here, now, because of Stan's mistakes.
Ford may not deserve absolution, but he does deserves this.Â
Laughter cuts through the lab, rough and mocking, and Ford's attention finally falls, properly, on Stan. He has a bruise blooming on his cheek and a snide smirk twisting his lips. He's also on his back, his jeans and a threadbare pair of boxers bunched in Ford's fists and pulled so low he can see the tight curls of his pubic hair and the root of his cock.Â
"What's wrong, Poindexter?" Stan asks, mocking, and it's only then that Ford realizes he's paused halfway through stripping his twin's lower half. The bite of the cold concrete under his knees still feels far away, but the rough material in his palms, and the heat of Stan's body so close to him are sharp, clear details. "No hands on experience with a dick that ain't your own? Afraid you might actually be bad at somethin' for once?"Â
Ford narrows his eyes, feeling the hot point of anger cutting through him, steadying him, and he jerks Stan's clothes hard enough that he gets the material past his knees in one tug. Stan laughs at him again, but it stutters into a little 'oof!' when Ford flips him onto his stomach.Â
He doesn't care that Stan's pants are still caught around his calves and his boots. He doesn't care that Stan hisses something that sounds like pain when he's yanked onto his knees and dragged backwards several inches across the concrete. He doesn't even care that, once upon a time, he'd dreamed of this, of crossing this line with the only person he'd ever really loved in any way that mattered, and it's nothing like the softer, sweeter picture he used to imagine.Â
Stan's hips are soft, and the skin gives easily under the iron grip Ford has on them, holding him in place as he grinds against his ass. Even through his slacks, the heat of Stan's body is intense, addictive, and he grinds forward again, harder, watching the friction rub a pink patch against his skin.Â
Stan, shameless and selfish as always, pushes eagerly back against him. Ford has barely done anything beyond rocking the outline of his cock against his hole, but he can hear Stan panting against the ground, can see his hands curling into fists. He remembers how many times Stan had called Carla McCorkle "easy" in high school and thinks, now, that the easy one had been his brother.Â
"You gonna keep humpin' me, or are you gonna fuck me?" Stan demands, rocking as firmly back as he can with the bruising grip Ford has on him.Â
"What makes you think you deserve that?" Ford bites out. It would serve Stan right, he thinks, if he got himself off exactly like this, no different than grinding against a particularly firm couch pillow. Just a conveniently warm object for Ford to release some tension with.Â
Stan looks back over his shoulder and flashes teeth at him. It isn't a smile. "Oh, I get it. Cold feet? Well, we can just chalk it up to one more thing ya promised and then backed out of as soon as you actually had to make a choice. Good to know some things never change, Stanford."
He's being goaded, and Ford knows that. But the anger boils in his chest, and he thinks, why should he care about what Stan does or doesn't deserve from him? This is about what Ford deserves.
And what Ford deserves is to have his dick so far up Stan's ass he'll be able to feel it in the back of his throat.Â
"Do you ever shut up?" he snaps while he releases one of Stan's hips to yank his slacks open. The bruise of his fingerprints already forming against Stan's skin thrills him, almost to distraction, if it weren't for Stan laughing again.Â
"'Course not," he says, shifting his center of balance to dig into the pocket of his dirty red coat. The little packet he tosses over his shoulder bounces off his own ass to land by Ford's knee, the word LUBE printed in large, bold letters across the front. He should be surprised to see it, and part of him is. The word "easy" comes to mind again.Â
Ford rips the packet open with his teeth.Â
"F-Fuck!" Stan curses, turning his forehead against the ground when Ford presses his slick cock into him a moment later without warning.Â
Ford grabs him roughly by the waist when he twitches forward and yanks Stan back until his ass hits the open fly of his slacks. He makes a choked sound at that and turns his face into the crook of his own arm when Ford pulls back and rocks hard back into him.Â
"What's wrong, Stanley?" he parrots. He pistons his hips at a punishing pace, watching his cock pumping in and out of the greedy, grasping ring of Stan's hole. "Nothing to say?"Â
Stan makes a noise that's too muffled by the sleeve of his coat to understand, so Ford reaches down to take a fistful of his stupid mullet instead. The hitching gasp that escapes his twin when his head is forcefully jerked up makes him groan. "What was that? Come on, Stanley, use your words."Â
"F-Fuck off," Stan says, his voice strained, almost whining.Â
"I see you haven't gotten anymore eloquent since you left," Ford scoffs around the breathlessness in his own voice, feeling the anger and pleasure coiling harder in his gut. "What was it you said? Good to know some things never change."Â
When he pulls Stan's hair again, just because he can, Stan moans. And when he shifts his hips, driving in just as hard at the new angle, Stan shouts. With his own knees bracketed on either side of his, Ford can feel the way his thighs tremble when he clenches around his cock, and he can feel the sweat beading up under his palm where he's digging darker bruises into Stan's side.Â
Ford feels like he's on the edge of delirium again, consumed by every sound Stan makes, every twitch of his hips, every ounce of his heat. He thinks, a bit wildly, that Stan may have been made for this, made to take his cock, for how well he does.Â
It isn't until Stan jerks under him, going hot and tight around his cock and making a strangled noise in the back of his throat, that Ford realizes he may have said part of that out loud. That Stan came over it.Â
He groans low in his throat and thrusts half a dozen more times into Stan's clenching hole before he comes as well.Â
It's quiet for a few minutes other than their ragged panting, but it's Stan who eventually reaches back and swats at Ford's hand until he lets go of his hair. He takes the hint and pulls out, watching with no small amount of satisfaction as his come trickles down Stan's thighs. It strikes him suddenly that he wants to follow the wet trail back up with his tongue. It's enough to make his cock give a feeble, appreciative twitch.Â
He isn't sure if he's just terribly distracted or if he loses time again, because when Ford next lifts his head, Stan is on his feet, pants pulled up around his waist but still open, and he has his journal in hand. This might be more jarring than the last transition he'd lost.Â
"What are you doing?" he demands, shoving himself back onto his own feet. He doesn't bother to tuck his cock back in, and he spots the moment Stan's eyes flick down. It's brief, but he'd seen it.Â
"What does it fucking look like I'm doing? I'm taking your stupid diary and disappearing like you begged me to," Stan says. His voice is still a little raw, and Ford has a moment to realize how much he likes that, before the words catch up.Â
He scoffs. "Oh! So now you want to actually help?! Is it always this easy to fuck the sense into you?"Â
Stan's expression does a few things Ford doesn't understand before his brows ultimately slam down and he turns his back, storming towards the door with Ford's journal still in hand, and Ford himself hot on his heels. "You're fucking unbelievable, Stanford, you know that?!"Â
"Me?! You're the one who came all over my lab floor and then decided he was ready to be reasonable!"Â
Stan jams his thumb against the call button for the elevator several times in quick succession, despite the car already being on their floor and the gate sliding open. "Most people would just say thank you when someone agreed to help them out, but not you! What does Stanford Pines have to be grateful for? We're all just fucking lucky to get a task from ya, huh?"Â
Ford crowds into the elevator with him before Stan can try to pull the gate or call the doors shut behind him. He punches the button to take them up himself, before making a grab for the journal, snarling when Stan leans back and holds it up above his head.Â
"You're the one who threatened to destroy my work twenty minutes ago, Stanley! Why would I trust you with it now? Hell, I can't figure out why I trusted you enough to bring you here in the first place!"Â
"Oh really? You can't?" Stan sneers, leaning in close. And when Ford takes a step back, Stan follows, backing him into a corner of the car. "I don't think you fuckin' trusted me to do shit, Stanford. I think you were all outta options cause nobody else could stand to put up with you anymore."Â
Stan doesn't so much as hit a nerve as he takes a sledgehammer to it, and as soon as the elevator dings, Ford shoves him as hard as he can out into the study. Stan yelps when he stumbles, nearly tripping over his own feet, and it's only knocking into a cluttered desk that keeps him from falling on his ass.Â
Ford doesn't give him any time to right himself, storming in after him and grabbing him by the front of his jacket. Stan flinches, like he'ex expecting a punch, but Ford yanks him in and crushes his mouth against his instead.Â
There's a dull thump that Ford only realizes was the journal being dropped when he feels both of Stan's hands on his shoulders. They curl briefly, grasping at him, and Ford feels his mouth starting to go soft and slack. But as soon as he presses in, runs his tongue along that loosening seam, he's suddenly being shoved backwards.Â
If he weren't so damn confused, Ford would probably appreciate the picture Stan makes, lips slick and pants open, leaning back against one of Ford's desks.Â
"What are you doing?!" Stan demands, like he's the one who doesn't know what day it is, and keeps losing track of events.Â
"I would think even you could figure that out after what happened downstairs, Stanley."
Stan flushes, visible even in the low light of the study, though Ford isn't sure if it's embarrassment or anger. The scowl on his face doesn't help clear things up, either, though the fact that he isn't actually looking at Ford is...telling. Â
"That ain't happening again," Stan states, and there isn't anything convincing about the way he says it at all. But when Ford steps forward, Stan sidesteps him and the desk. He makes a wrong turn in the dark, in a house he isn't familiar with, and flinches when Ford flips on the light in the kitchen he's walked into.
"I don't know how you expect to leave and hide my journal after leaving it in the study," he points out, frowning at the back of Stan's head.Â
He isn't surprised when Stan whirls on him. He is, however, stunned still when he realizes Stan's eyes are wet.Â
"What the fuck do you want from me, Stanford?!" Stan shouts, his voice cracking over his name, and it makes something feel like it's cracking inside his chest.Â
Ford has to wet his lips when he finds them and his throat dry. "...I told you what I wanted," he says.
"Yeah, you did! And when I finally agreed to do it, you threw a fucking fit about it! And now you're pissy because I'm not?! What do you want?"Â
The anger sparks sharply inside him again, and Ford grasps at it like a lifeline, willing to bloody his hands for that bite of stability.Â
"You tried to burn it! My life's work! And you only decided you would help me after we--"
Stan cuts him off, looking towards the cabinets while he raises his voice and waves his hands. "Jesus Christ, I'm sorry about the fucking lighter, all right?!"
Ford frowns. He takes a step forward and, still without looking at him, Stan takes a step back. It's the elevator all over again, but this time Ford is pressing in, backing Stan into the cabinets. He grabs the counter on either side of his hips when he tries to side step him again.Â
"Stanley, look at me," he demands, frowning harder when Stan sets his jaw and stars determinedly at his shoulder. "Stanley--"
"What do you want, Ford? Just...just fucking tell me and I'll leave, all right?" Stan says, his voice tired and soft as he reaches up to rub a hand over his own face.
He wants a lot, honestly. And hasn't that always been the problem? He's always wanted -- to be normal, to be respected, to be the best, to be special.Â
To be wanted.Â
To be enough.
To fix things.Â
"You," he realizes, watching Stan jerk his head up. His lashes are still wet, and Ford can't stop himself from reaching up and pressing his palm to Stan's cheek, skimming his thumb gently under one of his eyes.Â
When he leans in to kiss him again, Stan makes a small, wounded little noise under his mouth, but he parts his lips for Ford's tongue this time. Stan's lips are chapped and he tastes vaguely of stale cigarettes, but Ford is still struck by how soft and sweet he is.Â
More than anything else that had happened that evening, this is the moment that Ford knows he should suspect most of all. The way Stan relaxes between him and the counter, the almost tentative way he lifts his tongue to meet his, the careful fingertips touching the edge of Ford's coat and brushing against his loose tie. It's tender in a way Ford didn't think either of them were capable of, and it should be setting off warning bells and red flags in every part of his mind.Â
It isn't.Â
Ford is more certain of the reality of this single moment, the gentle slip of Stan's lips against his own, than he's been of anything in a long time.Â
And then Stan sighs between them and murmurs, warm and hopeful, "Ford," against his lips, and he's done for.Â
It doesn't matter that they just fucked, that Ford's come is probably still drying between Stan's thighs -- he can't keep his hands off of him. Ford is suddenly frantic and desperate in a way that he hadn't been downstairs. He needs to relearn the new, wider shape of Stan's shoulders and pecs. He needs to feel out every new scar and take stock of all the old ones he remembers Stan collecting for him as kids. He needs to be surrounded by him again, soaking in the warmth of him.Â
Ford doesn't deserve absolution, but he thinks he may be able to find something close to it in the low, shaky way Stan moans his name.Â
And there's familiarity in the way Stan grabs at him in turn, tugging at his jacket and tie and surging into another, harder kiss. Ford thinks he may not be the only one looking for expiation.Â
Then Stan drops to his knees between him and the cabinet, and Ford stops thinking so much. His cock is still out, and Stan wastes no time in getting his fist around the shaft and his lips around the head. He suckles and swirls his tongue, and Ford shoves the beanie off of his head to get his hands in his hair.Â
"Stanley," he gasps, stroking his fingers along his scalp and fisting the strands between them.Â
Stan moans around him and shuffles closer, sliding the seal of his lips further down the length of Ford's cock. All he can do is groan and try to keep from rocking his hips as more of him is greeted by the warmth of his mouth and the wickedness of his tongue.Â
He keeps waiting for Stan to reach his limit, to back off and give himself room to breathe. He doesn't. He keeps leaning in, keeps taking him, and then Ford feels his cockhead slip into Stan's throat, sees his lashes are wet again, and he has to put one hand on the counter to keep himself steady. "Fuck, Stanley, you're so good at this."
Stan makes a horribly sweet sound around the girth of Ford's cock and reaches up to hold his hips as he swallows, and Ford is suddenly afraid he's going to embarass himself. His hips twitch despite his best efforts to keep them still, but Stan simply relaxes his jaw and his throat and tugs a little to encourage him to do it again. He does, of course, how could he not?Â
Despite the heat clawing its way through him and the pleasure mounting dangerously high, Ford almost feels outside of himself again. The picture Stan makes, with his eyes damp and heavy lidded, his lips wet and stretched around Ford's cock, his hair fisted in Ford's fingers and his own clinging to Ford's hips -- it's lewd, debauched, and so horribly sweet that it makes Ford's chest hurt.Â
Stan gasps raggedly when Ford pulls him off. "I was go-gonna...I mean you can--"
Ford kneels down to kiss him, tasting stale cigarettes and himself, cock throbbing over the rough state of Stan's voice. "Not done yet," he manages, before tugging Stan onto his feet.Â
They lose clothes and time on the journey upstairs, tripping over the steps and Ford's discarded pants, and stumbling into his wreck of a room. If Stan notices the state of things, he doesn't comment, mouth latched onto Ford's shoulder and hands all over his back and hips.Â
The back of Ford's legs hit the bed and he sits hard on the mattress. Stan doesn't hesitate to crawl up into his lap. He'd lost his boots in the kitchen and his jeans and boxers somewhere on the way to the stairs, giving him ample opportunity to rub his bare cock against Ford's.Â
Cursing, Ford rolls his hips and only belatedly remembers to reach up and tug the hideous red coat off of Stan's shoulders.Â
"Oh, fuck, hold on. I think I have another one," Stan says, panting softly as he digs into the pockets of his coat. Ford takes the opportunity to run his hands across Stan's thighs and ass, squeezing whatever skin he can until Stan makes a triumphant sound and pulls another little packet of lube free.Â
Only then does he let Ford toss his jacket aside and tug him further up the bed with him. He doesn't protest when Ford takes the packet from him, lowering his head to work open mouth kisses up Ford's throat instead, and he rolls his hips distractingly while Ford fights to get the damnable thing open. He ignores the snickering against his skin in the process.Â
It stops anyway, hitching into something warm and startled when Ford sinks two slick fingers into him.Â
"Oh, fuck," Stan breaths, reaching up to grab Ford by the shoulder, holding himself steady. "Y-You know you don't have to do that, right? Pretty loosened up already."
He is, to be fair. His hole is still soft and loose and fucked open. But Ford enjoys petting his fingers against the tender muscle and stroking them inside anyway. He likes watching Stan bite his lip and push himself back onto his hand. When he slides a third in after the first two, Stan's thighs tremble on either side of his own, and he makes a low, throaty sound.Â
When Ford curls his fingers just right, Stan yells and grips his shoulder hard enough to hurt, and it makes warm satisfaction curl in his middle. So he does it a few more times, alternating between spreading his fingers and rubbing the tips against Stan's prostate until he's squirming in his lap.Â
"I-I'm gonna come if you don't knock that sh-shit off," he gasps, slumping a bit when Ford chuckles and slides his fingers out.Â
"I think I'd like that," Ford says, squeezing his slick fingers against Stan's thigh.Â
He snorts and straightens back up, finding the discarded lube packet to squirt the remainder onto Ford's cock. "Yeah, I bet you fucking would," Stan agrees, but there's no malice in his voice, just warm amusement.Â
His fist is warm and wonderful when it curls around Ford's cock, spreading lube, and then Ford is being held steady, Stan adjusts himself on his scuffed knees, and there's nothing else to do but hold on as Stan lowers himself into his lap.Â
It feels as good as it had earlier to be inside of him, and Ford squeezes the thigh under his hand tightly, fighting against the need to buck his hips. Stan is panting softly, his head tilted back and a pretty, pink color is crawling up from under his t-shirt to flood his neck and face.Â
Ford groans and leans forward, finding a nipple through his thin shirt to get his teeth and tongue against.
"F-Ford!" Stan gasps, fumbling the hand not clawing at his shoulder up into his hair, and Ford sucks hard on the firm nub, rubbing spit-soaked cotton against it with his tongue until Stan rocks in his lap.Â
Fuck, he likes that, the way his name sounds in Stan's voice, especially warm and rough after fucking his throat earlier.Â
He squeezes Stan's thigh and his hip, giving him a little tug, and that's all the encouragement Stan needs before he's bouncing on his cock. Ford has that thought again -- that Stan was meant to be filled by him, that they're a perfectly matched set. But it isn't just feeling good and hot while Stan fucks himself in his lap. It's feeling like he's been missing something and he finally has it, like he's finally complete again.Â
He's missed this, Ford realizes.Â
Not the fucking his brother part. He'd fantasized about that for years but it still feels like a dream that it's happening, like something that's too good to be true.Â
But being able to put his arms around him? To be this close to him again?Â
Ford rocks his hips up, hard, and Stan says his name. He wraps his fingers around Stan's cock, and he gasps his name. He bites the same swollen, pink nipple through his shirt, and Stan shouts his name.Â
He snaps his hips up to meet him a few more times and rubs the sensitive glans under the head of Stan's cock, and then there are teeth digging into his other shoulder and his fist and stomach are being striped in Stan's come while he shudders and jerks overtop of him.Â
Stan goes easily when Ford rolls them over and pins one of his wrists to the bed. And despite the way he squirms and how his spent cock twitches and leaks, blatantly overstimulated, he hooks his ankles behind Ford's back and urges him on.Â
"C-C'mon, give it to me. Fuck, just like that, Sixer!"Â
The nickname hits him with all the subtlety of a truck and all the heat of a volcanic eruption.Â
He doesn't even remember coming so much as he remembers every synapses in his brain trying to fire at once. Coming back down to reality is a little clearer, with his head spinning and pulse racing as he flops onto his back, but it still takes several long minutes before he feels fully cognizant again.Â
Something makes the bed shift, and he looks over to see that Stan has rolled onto his stomach. Ford wonders if he looks half as fucked out as Stan does, with bruises blossoming across his body, his shirt rucked halfway up his stomach, and come staining his ass and thighs. Ford realizes Stan still has his socks on, and he can't figure out why that makes something twinge, hot but exhausted and halfhearted, in his gut.Â
"Gonna...gonna get up in a minute," Stan says, his voice slurring and his eyes already closed. Ford watches him rub his cheek against one of Ford's pillows, and the soft sound of snoring follows soon after.Â
The reality of the situation starts to settle in shortly after that, and Ford stares wide eyed up at the ceiling as if he'll find some sort of answers there. Unsurprisingly, there are no secrets etched overhead for how to reckon with the fact that he had just fucked his brother, twice, while the fate of the world was still very much hanging in the balance between his fraying sanity and Bill's looming threat.Â
".....Fuck," Ford murmurs.
When the adrenaline finishes seeping out of his system, Ford expects to crash. The exhaustion certainly climbs back into his bones, but he's surprised to find himself still clear headed. Focused.Â
The sound of Stan sleeping soundly beside him is as soothing as it is mocking, but he doesn't want to separate himself from it even though he knows he needs to get up. There's soft, gray light starting to creep in through the windows, and distant birdsong calling for the start of the day. He needs to readjust, to come up with a new plan, find some way to explain to Stan what's going on so they can buy themselves a little more time.Â
Against all odds and his better judgment, there's a tiny, optimistic voice in the back of his head reminding him that there's strength in numbers. He isn't surprised that it sounds like Stan.
#ÂŻ\_ (ă)_/ÂŻ#stancest#nsft#i have been DYING to write this for 2 weeks#and i just haven't had the time to actually sit with it#so i hope it balances out the wait anon!#foodtruckâs snack packs#pretend my ask tag is cute
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Long-Distance Call | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader
Warnings: lots of arguing, angst, everyone's saying things they don't mean, canon violence, canon gore
Word Count: 5056
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For hours most nights recently, you watched Dean sleep. In the dim light coming in through the cheap curtains in motel rooms, you would make out the details of his face and trace your eyes along them. He was just so beautiful, and you considered yourself incredibly lucky for every day you got to spend with him; despite the fact that those days were coming to an end.Â
Dean knew you hadnât been sleeping, but you couldnât bring yourself to tell him why.Â
Sam was driving himself crazy talking to witch doctors, professors, and demonologists trying to wrap his head around a way to break Deanâs deal. You didnât get involved, though; you knew it was futile to do so.Â
You werenât sure if feeling helpless and knowing the situation was helpless was better than feeling helpless and trying to gain control of the situation, but you knew Sam probably felt as horribly as you did.Â
âYâknow, someday, if we ever get a houseâ it could happen!â you assured Dean off his skeptical look. âWe should get a couch. Itâd be better for our backs than sitting on Baby or these shitty mattresses.â
You sat up facing Dean who lounged on the headboard in your shared motel room. Tension had been high between the brothers recently, and you decided it was best for the three of you to bunk separately.Â
âYou are annoyingly optimistic, you know that?â he replied.Â
âI like to think of myself as more of a realist,â you returned. âBut Iâm trying to be more like you lately.â
âWhat do you mean?â Dean asked. His eyes held such an intensity when he looked at you.Â
In vulnerable moments like these, you couldnât bear to look back at him. You opted for looking down at the mattress or, really, anywhere other than his face. âI mean, your whole thing is being annoyingly biting and sarcastic andâ I mean, you just have the most amazing sense of humorâ even when things suck major ass. And I donât know how you do it. But⊠itâs admirable.â When your eyes returned to his face, he was looking at you with such pride and admiration.Â
âWhat?â you asked.
âI just love you,â he said.Â
You grinned widely and reached for his hand. You held it for just a moment before speaking again. âWhen are you gonna tell Sam?â
âWhat?â
âThat we canât save you.â
He sighed. â(Y/N)ââ
âNo, Dean, he deserves to know.â You shifted to your knees from your cross-legged position. âHeâs on a wild goose chase instead of enjoying the time he has with you.â
âHeâs a grown man, he can make his own choices,â Dean insisted, hand retreating from yours. He crossed his arms over his chest.
You gave him a look. âAnd maybe heâd make different choices if he had all the information about the situation available to him.â
âAlright, professor, no need to lecture me,â he grumbled, getting out of bed.
âDeanâ! Donât get mean just because youâre pissed at yourself and this whole situation,â you said, standing to face him. âLook, Iâm only saying something because I donât want the last few weeks of your life to be spent fighting with your brother.â
âWay to put that in perspective, (Y/N), thank you,â Dean spat.Â
âSee, this is when your attitude pisses me off beyond belief,â you argued. âIâm trying to have a conversation with you, and youâre being a complete dick. This didnât have to turn into a fight, and Iâm not understanding why it did!â
âBecause youâre my girlfriend, not my fucking therapist,â he responded. âI donât need you to tell me how to live my life.â
âOkay, this clearly isnât about me.â You shook your head, turning away from him to grab your shorts and shoes.Â
âThen, whatâs it about, (Y/N)?âÂ
You turned back to him. âClearly, this is about your deal.â âOh, my god,â Dean scoffed.
âYouâre runninâ out of time. Youâre scared, and youâre lashing out. Itâs crap. I only wanna help you because I love you,â you told him. âAnd Iâm not gonna tolerate you getting mean with me just because I told you something you didnât wanna hear.â
âWhere are you going?â Dean asked, seeing you stomp toward the door.Â
âOut,â you replied. âDonât follow me.â
***
That night, after yet another argument, you convinced Dean to let you sleep in his car and have him take the bed because you knew you wouldnât get much sleep anyway. You were hurt and angry, but you missed holding Dean. You missed memorizing his features while he slept and finally seeing him at peace.Â
And the next morning, the situation was no better. Now, instead of Dean and Sam fighting, it was you, Dean, and Sam fighting.Â
Sam had gone to talk to another person about how to potentially break Deanâs deal. âSo, the professor doesn't know crap.â
âShocking,â Dean commented. âPack your panties, guys, we're hitting the road.â
âWhat? What's up?â Sam asked.Â
âThat was Bobby.â He gestured to the phone heâd just hung up. âSome banker guy blew his head off in Ohio, and he thinks there's a spirit involved.â
âSo, you two were talking a case?âÂ
âNo, we were actually talking about our feelings. And then our favorite boy bands,â Dean replied dryly. âYeah, we were talking a case!â
âDean, stop being an ass,â you scolded.Â
âWell, get Sam to stop asking stupid questions.â Sam huffed. âSo, a spirit? What?â
âYeah, the banker was talking about some sort of electrical problems at his pad for like a week. Phone was going haywire, computer was flipping on and off,â Dean explained. âThis is not ringing your bell?â He pressed when Sam looked at him skeptically.Â
âWell, sure, yeah. But, Dean, we're already on a case,â the younger one replied.Â
âWhose?â Dean asked.Â
âYours!â
âRight. Yeah. Well, you coulda fooled me,â the older scoffed.Â
âWhat the hell else have we been doing lately other than trying to break your deal?â Sam protested.Â
âChasing our tails, that's what. Sam, we've talked to every professor, witch, soothsayer and two-bit carny act in the lower forty-eight. Nobody knows squat! And we can't find Bela, we can't find the Colt. So until we actually find something, I'd like to do my job.â
âWe should summon Ruby,â Sam suggested.Â
âI'm not gonna have this fight with you.â Dean shook his head.Â
Sam continued anyway. âShe said she knows how to save you.â
âAbout that, Dean has something he wants to tell you.â You turned to your partner expectantly with your arms folded.Â
âWhat?â Sam asked, looking between the two of you.Â
Dean was giving you a glare which you returned.Â
âDean, what?â Sam asked again.Â
âShe canât save me,â Dean answered finally, still holding your glare.Â
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sam turn back to you. â(Y/N)â?â
âShe told us she canât save him, Sam,â you admitted.Â
Sam turned his anger toward you. âWhoa, so youâve known this whole time and havenât told me?âÂ
âIt wasnât mine to tell, Sam!â
âYeah, but the both of you still kept a secret from me,â he responded.Â
âYou really wanna talk about who's keeping secrets from who?â Dean snapped.Â
You turned to the car.Â
âWhere are you going?â Dean called after you.Â
âGuess weâre going to Ohio.â
***
You were silent for the entirety of the ride to the deceasedâs house. Dean and Sam only spoke to make a snarky remark directed at each other or at you, but you refused to respond.Â
You asked the woman what happened to her husband, and she reluctantly told you that he kept talking to a woman named Linda on the phone. However, there was no one on the other line when she would pick it up to check.Â
Curious about who this woman could have been, you and the brothers returned to the motel to research.Â
âLinda's a babe. Or, was,â Dean commented.Â
Your heart dropped. You knew he was kidding, but now was so not the time to make jokes like that. âDonât say shit like that, please.â
âSheâs dead, (Y/N),â he replied dryly. âDonât be jealous.â
âI just think itâs in really poor taste to say that right now considering the state our relationshipâs in,â you told him, trying to remain as calm as possible.Â
He slammed his laptop shut. âAre you seriously picking a fight with me over this? Right now?â
Sam interrupted before you could respond. âOh-kay! Thatâs enough. Whoâs Linda?â
âLinda Bateman.â Dean turned his eyes away from you. âShe and Ben Waters were high school sweethearts.â
âSo what happened?â Sam asked.Â
âDrunk driver hit them head on. Ben walked away.â
âSo, what then? Dead flame calls to chat?â Sam wondered aloud.
âYou would think, but Linda was cremated. So why's she still floating around?â
âYou got me,â Sam shrugged.Â
âWhat about that, uh, caller I.D?â Dean asked his brother, referring to the number heâd found on Benâs phone.Â
âTurns out, it's a phone number,â Sam replied. âIt's about a century old, back from when phones had cranks.â
âSo, why use that number to reach out and touch someone?â Dean returned.Â
âGot me there too, but we should put a trace on it.â
âWell how the hell are we going to put a trace on something that's over one-hundred years old?â
Sam suggested that the three of you should head to Benâs phone companyâs local office posing as representatives of their headquarters.Â
âYou guys go ahead without me,â you said.Â
âOh, câmon, (Y/N)ââ
You cut Dean off. âNo. Both of us need space before we kill each other. So, please. Go.â
âWhatever,â Dean grumbled and stormed out of the room.
Sam stayed behind with you for a moment. âIâm sorry about him,â he said.
You sniffled, wiping away tears that threatened to spill from your eyes. âItâs okay. Just a rough patch, I guess. Call me when yâall have something.â
He nodded and pulled you into a hug. Sam placed a quick kiss on the crown of your head before following his brother out of the door.Â
***
Sam called to inform you that the number had called over a dozen people multiple times over the last week. So, you and the Winchesters split up to investigate. Without a car, you stayed in the motel room and called the numbers Sam had forwarded to you posing as a representative of the phone company. One of the people youâd spoken to said that heâd been hearing his deceased brother calling him to reconcile the broken relationship theyâd had when his brother passed away.Â
Just as you hung up the phone with him, Dean burst into the room and immediately started pacing.Â
âWhatâs wrong?â you asked.Â
Dean didnât answer.Â
Sam sat at the table in the room. âHe said our dad called him.â
âNo fucking way,â you breathed out. âYou really think it was him?â
âI don't know, maybe,â Dean grunted.Â
âWell, what did he sound like?â Sam asked.Â
âLike Oprah!â the older brother snapped. âLike Dad; he sounded like Dad, what do you think?â
âWhat did he say?â you questioned.Â
âMy name,â Dean replied.Â
âThatâs it?â Sam pressed.Â
âCall dropped out.â
You shook your head and folded your arms, sitting cross-legged on Samâs bed. After the recent fights with Dean, youâd decided to get a room separate from the two brothers and had been hanging out in their room all day. âWhy would he even call in the first place, Dean?â
âI don't know, (Y/N)! Iâm not a fucking psychic,â he snarked. âWhy are ghosts calling anybody in this town? But I mean, other people are hearing from their loved ones, why can't we? It's at least a possibility, right?â
You wanted to chew him out for snapping at you like that, but you truly had no energy to put up another fight.Â
âYeah, I guess?â Sam replied in your place.Â
âOkay, so what if....â Dean trailed off, only looking at his brother. âWhat if it really is Dad? What happens if he calls back? What do I say?â
âHello,â you suggested.Â
âHello?â he scoffed.Â
You shook your head and rolled your eyes.Â
âThat's what you come back with. Hello?â Dean continued.Â
âFuck off, Dean,â you sneered.Â
Dean huffed, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door.Â
Sam shot you a puppy-dog-eyed look and turned to the door to stare after his brother.Â
You sighed and buried your face in your hands.Â
â(Y/N)?âÂ
You picked your head up.Â
âWhatâs happening to you guys?â
âI donât know,â you admitted, tearing up. âWe started fighting âcause I told him to tell you about the whole âRubyâ thing, and I said some mean shit, and he said some mean shit, and itâs just a mess now.â
Sam gave you another puppy-dog-eyed look.Â
âItâll be fine, though. Iâm sure itâll blow over.â
If it was even possible, Samâs face dropped even further.Â
âDonât look at me like that,â you smiled lopsidedly, knowing he just didnât know how to help. âCan we talk about something other than my boy drama?â
Sam nodded. âSure.âÂ
***
For the next few hours, you scoured the internet for information on the âSHA33â number that was calling these poor people.Â
Dean returned with caustic remarks to spare. âFind anything?â he asked Sam while pretty much blatantly ignoring you.Â
âAfter three hours, Iâve found no reason why anything supernatural would be going on here,â Sam sighed, shutting his laptop.Â
âMe neither, Dean, thanks for asking,â you said.Â
âWell, you know, you think a Stanford education and a high school hook up rate of zero-point-zero would produce better results than that,â Dean scoffed at Sam.
âHilarious,â you deadpanned, hoping to elicit some sort of a response from Dean.Â
He shot you a glare, but other than that, he said nothing. Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out a packet. âMotel pamphlet rack.â He dropped it on the coffee table along with a few books. âMilan, Ohio. Birthplace of Thomas Edison.â
âSo what?â you asked.Â
Sam grabbed a book and leafed through it.Â
Dean just raised his eyebrows at you as Sam looked up from the book.Â
âYou're kidding,â he said.Â
Dean smirked as his brother.Â
***
Well, a huge waste of time was the only thing Deanâs suggestion led to. The tour you went on at a museum showed the invention Thomas Edison believed could communicate with spirits and informed you that he was a devout occultist. However, the âspirit phoneâ didnât set off the EMF detector.Â
Sleep refused to claim you. Your anxiety kept your mind racing through the long hours of the night. You sat at the table in your room staring at the door just waiting for Dean to knock. However, despite it being three in the morning, he hadnât come yet. Your fights had all been stupid and petty, but both of you were too stubborn to be the first to admit fault.Â
And with each passing night, you could feel the clock ticking. You knew Dean was running out of time, and you just wanted him to hold you again. As the sun rose, your heart sank knowing he hadnât come to make things right with you.Â
You stayed in your room upset until Sam called you to come over to theirs.Â
âWhatâs up?â you asked upon entering.Â
âThat girl Lanieââ Sam was referring to the victim heâd spoken toâ âher Mom's ghost spooked her out pretty bad last night.â
âThat sucks,â said Dean, typing furiously on his laptop.Â
âWhat⊠are you doing, Dean?â you asked hesitantly.Â
He looked at you briefly; the expression on his face confusing. He looked back down at his computer. âI think my dadâs right. I think the demon is here. Check it out.â He handed you some papers and dug around in his bag.Â
âWhat is this, weather reports?â you asked, leafing through the papers.
âOmens. Demonic omens,â he responded. âElectrical storms everywhere we've been for the past two weeks.â
Trepidatiously, you said, âI don't remember any lightning storms.â
âWell, I don't remember you studying meteorology, either,â he snapped.
âSo much for us being civil,â you thought.Â
âBut I'm telling you, that bastard's been tailing me; wearing some poor dude's meat,â Dean finished.Â
Sam took some of the pressure off you. âAnd itâs following you becauseâŠ?â he asked.Â
âI guess I'm big game, yâknow? My ass is too sweet to let outta sight.â Dean threw a wink at you, and you were getting incredibly thrown off by his changing attitude.Â
âOkay. Sure,â Sam snorted.
Dean snatched the papers back from you. âDon't get too excited, Sammy. Might pull something.â He stood from the bed and moved away from you and his brother.
âDean, look, I wanna believe this man, I really doâŠâ
Dean cut his brother off. âThen believe it! if we get this sucker, it's Miller Time.â
âYeah, that's another thing. Dad rattles off an exorcism that can kill a demon? I mean, not just send it back to hell, but kill it?â Deanâs eyes lit up. âI've checked it out. This is heavy duty Dark Ages. Fifteenth century.â
âDean,â you said softly. âI checked on it, too. So did Sam. So did Bobby.â
âOkay, and?â he scoffed.Â
Sam jumped in. âLook, it definitely is an exorcism, okay, there's just no evidence it can kill a demon.â
âNo evidence it can't,â he rebutted.Â
âDeanâŠâ you trailed off, not wanting to start a bigger fight.Â
âHey, as far as I'm aware the only one of us who has actually been to Hell is my dad. And maybe he picked up a couple of tricks down there, like which exorcisms work,â he snapped.Â
âMaybe!â you replied. âI hope so; for your sake. But we gotta be sure.â
âWhy aren't we sure?â he asked.Â
ââCause I don't know what's going on around here, Dean!â you cried. âI mean, some guy blows his brains out, a little girl is scared out of her witsââ
âWow, a couple of civvies are freaked out by some ghosts. News flash, (Y/N), people are supposed to be freaked out by ghosts!â he shot back.Â
You held his stare venomously. Dean eventually dropped his head in frustration.Â
âDad tell you where to find the demon?â Sam asked carefully.Â
âI'm waiting on the call!â he shouted.Â
The tension in the room was thick, and you had no idea what to say.
Sam sighed deeply and tried to change the subject. âI told Lanie I'd stop by.â
Dean scoffed. âOh, good, yeah. No, you go hang out with jailbait. Just, uh, watch out for Chris Hansen. Meanwhile I'll be here getting ready to, yâknow, save my life.â
Sam shook his head and turned to the door. You just stared at the floor.Â
âYou two are unbelievable, yâknow that?â Dean shouted. âI mean, for months, weâve been tryinâ to break this demon deal. Now, Dadâs about to give us the fuckinâ address, and you blink? The man is dead, and youâre still butting heads with the guy?!â He turned his attention to you. âAnd you? What happened to us? What happened to your âunconditional supportâ?â
âDean, you still have it!â you replied. âThat was never in question! What Iâm questioning is where your fuckinâ headâs at. Because this is not you.â
âOh, god.â He rolled his eyes and began to pace.Â
âIâm not gonna mince my words,â you began, anger boiling to the surface. âThis is fuckinâ crazy. I mean, there is no proof. At all. All youâre acting on is blind faith.â
âYeah, well, maybe!â He shouted back. âYâknow, maybe that's all I got, okay?â
You held his stare, the anger melting out of you at his words. When you could see tears forming in his eyes, he looked at the floor.Â
Sam piped up. âPlease. Just please don't go anywhere until I get back. Okay, Dean? Please.âÂ
Dean stayed silent.Â
âCâmon, (Y/N),â Sam urged you.Â
You looked up at Dean. For the first time that week, he offered you a kind word. âGo. Itâs okay.â
You nodded. As you turned to go, you stared over your shoulder back at Dean.Â
***
At Lanieâs house, the young girl got you up to speed on what happened to her the night before.Â
âHave you told your father about any of this?â Sam asked her.
âAnd bother him at work?â she replied. âNo. He wouldn't believe me anyway, he'd just chuck me into therapy.â
âSo what did your mother say?â you asked.Â
âShe wanted to see me. So at first I thought I was supposed to go to the cemetery,â she sniffled.Â
âDid you?â Sam prompted.Â
Lanie nodded meekly. âNothing happened. But then she started asking me to do other things.â
âWhat sort of things?â
She almost seemed embarrassed to say. âBad things.â
You crouched down and looked up at her, breaking her gaze from the floor. âLanie, please. Can you tell me what happened? Itâs very important.â
She teared up, young eyes swimming in fear and sadness. âMom told me to go to Dad's medicine cabinet.â
You waited patiently for her to continue.Â
âShe wanted me to take his sleeping pills.â She stopped for a minute to gather her courage. âTake all of his sleeping pills.â
âShe wanted you to kill yourself?â Sam couldnât help himself from saying.Â
She nodded, crying harder. âWhy would my Mom want me to do that?â
You shook your head. âI donât know.â
âShe just kept saying, âcome to me,â like, a million times,â she hiccuped.Â
Your eyes widened. âOh, sweet girl, that's not your mother.â You stood from the ground.Â
Sam told Lanie, âListen to me. Don't answer the phone. Don't use the computer. Don't do anything unless I say to, alright?â
You started down the stairs and listened carefully; just one set of footsteps was following you. You turned back to see Lanie still at the top of the stairs. âYou okay?â
Her breathing was quick. âWhere's Simon?â
âSimon?â you asked.Â
âMy little brother,â she responded.Â
The next thing you knew, you were watching Sam shove the little boy out of the way of a speeding truck from the porch of Lanieâs house.Â
Immediately, you called Dean. âDean, itâs not your dad,â you rushed out.Â
âThen what is it, (Y/N)?â he asked flippantly.Â
âA crocotta,â you answered.Â
âWhat is that, a sandwich?â he scoffed.Â
âThey typically live in filth. Mimic loved ones. Whisper, âCome to me,â then lure you into the dark and swallow your soul,â you stated.Â
Sam motioned for you to head to his rental car as soon as he delivered Simon to his sister safely. You followed quickly.Â
âA crocotta, right, damn, that makes sense,â he snarkily replied.Â
âDean, câmon, babeââ
He cut you off. âHey, don't these things live in filth?â
âYeah,â you replied.Â
âOh, god, at the phone company there were these flies. Pretty much as soon as we got down to the basement where this guy Stewie was hanginâ out,â he rushed out.Â
âOkay, uh, okay,â you nodded. âMeet us there.â
You brought Sam up to speed on the conversation youâd had with Dean, and as night fell, he sped to the phone company.Â
***
Despite calling Dean several times, you and Sam had to keep moving forward with the case. You watched as the man Sam described to you as Stewie unlocked his car. Silently, you rushed him with a metal spike. You shoved him down onto the car and held a metal spike to the back of his neck.
Stewie grunted. âWhat the hell?!â
âI know what you are,â you spat. âAnd I know how to kill you.â
âWait, waitâ Please! If we're overcharging you for the call waiting or something I- I can fix that. I am your friend!â he stammered.Â
Confusion overtook you, and you turned to an equally confused Sam. You suddenly noticed a man standing behind him with a bat. âSam, look out!â you cried.Â
But it was too late. He was hit over the head with a bat, and you released the man in front of you. You threw your spike at him, but he caught it just before it hit him. He stalked toward you, and the man smiled widely. The man youâd been holding down shoved you to the ground from behind, and you were knocked out, too.
***
When you next came to, your wrists and feet were bound; that was the first thing you felt. Your head pounded, and your wrists ached from how tight the bindings were. When you opened your eyes, you turned your head to see Stewie was dead and bleeding profusely from his chest.Â
You shrieked in horror, and then, the man whoâd knocked you out appeared in front of you. âThe fuck is wrong with you?!â you snarled.
He just laughed mockingly as he stalked between you and Sam.Â
You realized something. âMy last call with Dean. That was you. You led us here.â
âSome calls I make, some calls I take, but you have to admit, I had you fooled for a while. All that Edison phone crap,â he chuckled. He moved over to a telephone exchange cabinet and sighed in ecstasy.Â
âWhat are you doing?â Sam asked.Â
âIâm killing your brother,â he smiled. âOr maybe I'm killing another guy. We'll just have to see how it goes.â
***
The creature removed the knife from the chest of the man beside you. You grimaced at the wet squelching sound it made as he did.Â
âYâknow, mimicking Dean's one thing. But my Dad?â Sam complimented mockingly. âThat's a hell of a trick.â
âWell, once I made you two as hunters, it was easy. I found Dean's number, then your number, then your father's numbers. Then, emails, voicemails, everything. You see, people think that stuff just gets erased, but it doesn't. You'd be surprised how much of yourself is just floating out there, waiting to be plucked,â the creature grinned.Â
âDeanâs not an idiot,â you stated sharply. âHeâs not gonna kill that guy.â
âThen the guy kills him,â he shrugged. âAnd I kill you two. And here I thought I was only getting one hunter.â He stalked toward you, and you struggled harder. âNow, Iâve got another. And a pretty one, at that.â
You reared back and spat in his face. Almost like a reflex, he immediately backslapped you.Â
Unfazed, your head returned to a neutral position and you just glared at him.Â
âIâm gonna enjoy this,â he said, tracing the knife down your cheek. âTechnology. Makes life so much easier. Used to be, I'd hide in the woods for days, weeks, whispering to people, trying to draw them out into the night. But they had community, they all looked out for each other, I'd be lucky to eat one or two souls a year. Now when I'm hungry, I simply make a phone call. You're all so connected. But you've never been so alone.â
Just as the manâs jaw unhinged like a snake to reveal rows of teeth, Sam came up behind him and wrapped his arms around his neck in a chokehold. You sat patiently while Sam and the crocatta struggled for the knife. You watched both men slam each other into various surfaces until they disappeared from view.Â
You couldnât do anything to help yourself, and you anxiously waited forâ hopefullyâ Samâs return into the room.Â
Much to your relief, Sam stumbled back in minutes later. You grinned up at him happily.
***
You were the one to drive Samâs rental car back to the motel seeing as he was injured and sore from his fight with the monster. You went at least twenty miles-an-hour over the speed limit for the entirety of the drive.Â
You burst into Sam and Deanâs room, and you began to panic when you didnât see him there.Â
Then, you checked your room, breathing out in relief when you saw Dean holding a wash cloth to his eye. âDean!â You ran to him, kneeling down in front of him.
He looked up at you, and you immediately kissed him passionately. He returned your kiss eagerly. When you broke away from him, you took the cloth from Deanâs hands gently to help him clean the wound.
âSweetheart,â he said. âIâ Iâm so sorry.â
You placed your free hand on his knee. âWeâll talk in a minute, alright? Let me clean you up first.â
He nodded.Â
***
âThere,â you told him having placed the final bandage on his assortment of cuts. âThat guy kicked the shit out of you.â Although Dean would normally laugh at jokes like that, his countenance was completely serious. âIâm so sorry,â he repeated.Â
âI know,â you said softly. âI am, too.â
âI justâ I lashed out, and that wasnât fair to you. You were right,â Dean admitted. âIt scares me how well you can fuckinâ read me. And with everything going on, I justââ
âI get it,â you cut him off. âIâm sorry, too. I was being petty. I got mean, too.â You paused for a moment. âIâm sorry it wasnât really your dad.â
Dean looked down at the ground. âNaw, I gave you a hell of a time on this one.â He huffed. âI wanted to believe so badly that there was a way outta this. I mean, I'm staring down the barrel at this thing. You know, Hell. For real, forever, and I justâŠâ he trailed off, unable to finish.Â
Your eyebrows scrunched sadly, and your eyelashes flickered.Â
âIâm scared, sweetheart. Iâm⊠Iâm really scared.â As tears pooled in his eyes, he couldnât seem to meet yours.Â
You nodded, tearing up as well. âI know.â
âI guess I was willing to believe anything. You know, the last act of a desperate man,â he tried to joke through his stifled cries.Â
âI canât believe Iâm saying this, but thereâs nothing wrong with having hope, Dee,â you told him gently.Â
âHope doesn't get you jack squat,â he scoffed. âI can't expect Dad to show up with some miracle at the last minute. I can't expect anybody to, yâknow? I mean, the only person that can get me out of this thing is me.â
âAnd Iâm right there with you,â you told him. âEvery step of the way. To Hell and back.â
Dean offered a lopsided smile. âTo Hell and back.â
Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld
#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x y/n#dean winchester x you#dean winchester#supernatural#spn#supernatural series rewrite#spn series rewrite
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Jungkook didnât say anything about Jinâs album publicly but I donât see anyone questioning his love for Jin. He literally didnât say a word about Taeâs album last year either but I donât see anyone questioning his love for him yet people want to question the one he spent the entire solo era hyping, literally keeping up with all his songs and purposely going live to watch him
becsuse jimin is the one he is supposedly dating. that's why it's different when it comes to jimin. and want to know why we don't question jimin? because jimin has congratulated jk SO MUCH before. I mean he posted jks damn BB #1 to his instagram feed and I am only going to name that one thing but we all know how much jimin has gone out of his way to publicly acknowledge jks achievements that dates back to years ago. sue us for wanting the same in return for him đ€·ââïž
I find it hilarious how we can't say or question anything about jk without you guys bringing up jimin when we all know jimin is on a different level of emotional availability and affection than anyone else in the group, why compare when they can't compete? at least you admitted jhope is jimin's jimin. first time I see a jikooker say that and rightfully so, jhope is the only person that returns the somewhat same energy that jimin gives him so cheers
Anon,
You lack reading comprehension donât you? Didnât you clearly see me say it isnât very much in Jkâs nature to do stuff like that as far as we know, yet Jimin is still the highest person he congratulates or Hypes publicly. What? You want Jk to behave exactly like Jimin before you acknowledge that he does something for Jimin? Even if that is your angle, you still donât have a point because Jk has always been very supportive of Jimin. Go through all the years and you would see at least one video of Jk singing each and everyone of Jiminâs songs, publicly supporting him which is something he doesnât really do for others.
Anon, listen, I didnât give birth to you and the likes of you so itâs really not my job or responsibility to educate you on how life works. Human beings are different and show their love and affection in different ways. For Jimin, words of affirmation come very easy to him but not Jk. Jk is more of an acts of service person and if you paid any attention to the things Jimin has said about Jungkook through out the years, you would have known just how much Jungkook encourages and congratulates, and honestly supports Jimin.
Problem with some of you is that you like eye service. You think it isnât genuine if someone doesnât stand on a podium and yells how much he likes or loves something. You think that people always have to scream at the top of their lungs about how much they love people or care about them before you believe they do but life doesnât work that way.
No argument you are coming up with holds water because Jimin is still the highest person Jungkook publicly supports and hypes even though he really isnât one to do all that anyway. Letâs end this argument here because I feel like I am arguing with a 4 year old. It is 2024, and we still have to spend this much time defending jikookâs bond? Jesus!
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i understand the confusion that arises here if you think of transmisogyny as the intersection between transphobia and misogyny -- and i'm not saying that to be an asshole, i'm saying that because i had the same confusion for a while. but using the intersection framing isn't very helpful here since transphobia is ultimately the consequence of patriarchy & misogyny which, as you point out, impacts all trans people.
so, the better way of looking at it is to understand it as a form of misogyny that specifically impacts trans women. i realize this is a subtle difference, but it is still a difference that matters nonetheless. it makes more sense, too, when you consider the mechanisms at play with patriarchy. for example, if cis women are subjugated on the basis of their ability to physically reproduce and are made to provide free reproductive labor, then what happens to the trans woman who cannot fulfill that same role? and the answer, both historically and nowadays, is the relegation of trans women to a sort of social third class. economically, we see throughout history that they are frequently unemployed or involved with sex work, which is a reality that cis women also frequently experienced if they were unable to achieve getting married, having kids, maintaining their reputation and if their husband was unable to prevent the family from falling into poverty.
this is just one example of many, but the point here is that trans women experience very similar outcomes to cis women because of patriarchy, but their outcomes more frequently resemble the worst-case social/economic scenario of cis women because they are trans. there was never an opportunity to have a better life.
trans men, on the other hand, generally have a different experience when they are understood socially to be men. stories of figures you could consider to be trans masculine are often described a women dressing as men to achieve a better life for themselves -- that reality reflects what i'm trying to communicate. that's not to say that trans men never had it bad or that they never experienced misogyny, but what it does communicate as that being perceived by society as a man has historically yielded different opportunities and outcomes than being perceived as a woman. for instance, when i read stories of historical trans men, they're usually able to sort of live under cover and work very blue collar jobs because those jobs were available to men. and if they ever had to resort to sex work, they would have to do it as women -- most johns are straight men, after all.
thus, and i'm sure you've heard this before, "transandrophobia" as a term modeled after transmisogyny doesn't make much sense because it would imply "androphobia that is specific to trans men." now, maybe you want to say, "well, i'm using the term not to talk about the intersection of 'androphobia' and transness, but rather transphobia that is unique to trans men OR the intersection of misogyny and trans masculinity." and that's all fine and good, but we've run into two very large rhetorical problems since this discussion started.
many examples of experiences unique to trans men are not really unique to trans men and there aren't very good arguments explaining why they should be viewed as uniquely anti-transmasc
many arguments i've seen at least rely heavily on a very gender essentialist outlook. i believe there are a lot of well-intentioned people who just don't have the greatest grasp on the mechanisms of patriarchy yet, but unfortunately this tendency has resulted in a not insignificant amount of arguing about trans women being male and therefore incapable of understanding misogyny and ironically misgenders trans men and denies many of our realities
i do believe it's worth talking about the experiences of trans mascs specifically because it helps us develop a better understanding of how we fit into the broader scheme of things and develop ways to fight for a better future. unfortunately, though, a lot of discussion about feminism & misogyny in general (not just w/ this conversation, i mean as a whole) doesn't really have a solid, materialist understanding of patriarchy and leads to questionable conclusions. in the case of transandrophobia, i'm concerned that the culture that has developed has only reified ppl's distrust of trans women (not instilled it, mind you -- once again, we have to return to transmisogyny here as a structural reality) and therefore severely stunted our ability as trans men/mascs to talk about ourselves in a meaningful way.
If transmisogyny is actually the intersection of transphobia and misogyny, that would be something all trans people experience, not just transfemme individuals.
If it's just a word for transphobia faced by transfemmes, then it makes sense for transmascs to have an equivalent word.
If you say transmascs can't use the word transmisogyny to describe their experiences, and essentially just use it to mean transphobia against transfemmes, then it doesn't make any sense to get upset about the word transandrophobia
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Hello, Miss Raven!
I hope you are having a nice day ^^
I was wondering since you don't have a Yuusona, have you ever thought making your own Yuusona like what traits, gender and personality would you have for them?
And how would their relationship be with Miss Raven would they be friends?
Sorry if I'm asking something you don't feel comfortable answering just feel free to ignore it. I'm enjoying your work and I'm new here so I hope I wasn't a bother! Love your work đ«¶
Iâve thought about making a Yuu of my own on more than one occasion. However, Iâve never been a fan of the roles designated for self-inserts⊠Itâs hard to commit. Even if I were to make my Yuu less of a Yuusona (ie just Me but in the Twst world) and more of an OC (an entity totally separate from myself), I always lose motivation somewhere along the way.
Thatâs of course not to disparage anyone who has a Yuu though!! I just personally find it a struggle to design around a somewhat predetermined identity. Thereâs less freedom in a Yuu because they have to meet certain parameters in order to âmake senseâ in the story. For example, Yuus are generally from our ordinary world and magicless. I donât like having those limitations (and though I could go against it, Iâd refrain in order to not break canon lore). Thatâs why my first Twst OC is very far removed and exists as her own thing.
For fun, hereâs some of my scraped Yuu concepts, including doodles. They're not really "Yuusonas" though, more like original characters that happen to be filing in for Yuu:
Yuu 1: Mad Scientist Yuu
The earliest iteration.
This Yuu is ~16, male. Considered nonbinary at one point too.
The notes in the image basically describe him. Germaphobe, has lots of band-aids (because he is accident-prone), constantly tired + has dark undereye circles due to excess stress and lack of sleep.
Frequently seen in face mask, lab coat, and latex gloves.
âDonât bother meâ energy. Very curt with people and just wants to be left alone.
Claims to be an egalitarian because he âhates everyone equallyâ.
As the story went on, he would have learned to lighten up and work with others too. Basically, the same arc the NRC students have.
I didn't think too deeply about what his relationship with Miss Raven would be like... Most likely, he just dislikes and avoids her like he does the rest of the NRC population.
Yuu 2: âRobert Philip the Divorce Lawyerâ Yuu
Twisted from the divorce lawyer love interest in Enchanted đ YES, I SAID WHAt i SAiDâŠ
This Yuu is 35ish, male.
Has a very girly young daughter back home. She is basically his motivation to return.
His ex-wife left him. (YES I AM KEEPING THIS LORE.) Has sworn off love since then but is dating another woman for practical reasons.
Very anti-romance and anti-fairy tales.
Somewhat grumpy.
Logical, pragmatic. Some would say calculating.
Constantly arguing with Crowley because he knows his rights and how many laws Crowley is violating/j
He wouldnât have been a student but more like a faculty member and father figure to the NRC students. By being in Twisted Wonderland, he helps to mentor the boys as though they were his own children, and the boys in turn teach him about magic, imagination, and believing even in seemingly impossible things.
Had an idea about him finding true love in Twisted Wonderland too; this would basically be his Giselle. Maybe a kind lady from Foothill Town??
Robert!Yuu was going to be sort of a secondary father figure to Miss Raven. Crowley is her real guardian, but he's usually not fulfilling the typical duties of a guardian so Robert!Yuu has to step up. In a lot of ways, Miss Raven reminds him of an older version of his own daughter so he has a soft spot for her. He also tries his best to advise her on life and boys. I imagine that he and Miss Raven have that Hades and Megara scene where she's gushing about Hercules and Hades goes, "Please. HE'S A GUY!!"
Yuus 3 and 4: Twin Yuus
The bangs they have are borrowed from Robert!Yuu because I liked them and was too lazy to try something new outâ
Theyâre brother and sister, both 17. I wanted to play around with the concept of multiple Yuus in Twisted Wonderland at the same time. Twins because they are supposed to be âa mirror imageâ of the other.
The theme these two would explore is gender, particularly expectations vs reality.
They come from an old money family; each twin has very traditionally gendered expectations placed on them but their secret is they swap places and pretend to be the other twin so as to get out of their own responsibilities, as the girl is tomboyish and the boy is more feminine.
They continue this act in Twisted Wonderland in order to "protect" one another, but their relationship becomes strained with each OB. For example, the male twin would become increasing protective, feeling like it is his responsibility to keep his sister safe. This would earn him his sister's ire since he never smothered her before. The twins would eventually reconcile and come to reach a middle ground regarding one another's expression of their gender and how that informs their behavior toward one another.
In another variation, only the male-presenting twin would be isekai'd to Twisted Wonderland. It would later be revealed that "he" is actually a "she". The explanation that she provides for acting masculine is to rebel against the expectations of her family (who had arranged a marriage for her prior to her being isekai'd).
... But then there's ANOTHER twist đ€Ą and it turns out that her "masculine self" closely resembles her actual twin brother (who is now deceased). The idea is that she partly acts this way as a trauma response and relies a lot on "speaking" with her brother for advice on how to move forward in Twisted Wonderland. Like, she has pretend conversations with him in her head.
Her character arc would have been centered around detaching herself from the expectations placed on her, as well as learning to let her brother go and become her own person.
ASDSBDABSDOSA I feel like Miss Raven would be so confused trying to keep track of the twins and/or the single twin's dramatic backstory. She'd be pretty cordial with them though! Maybe even tries to counsel them when they're fighting or closed off from others.
Yuu 5: Ara Ara Onee-san Yuu (WIP name is Sumire -> Suu -> her variation of âYuuâ, lol)
The best designed one, probably.
The only one with a proper name, too :v
She's 18 and female!
Started off as a joke between me and a friend. We were talking about how we think many of the first year students would be into "onee-san" types.
As you may or may not be able to tell by the design, she's meant to be a caring big sister character. Sweet, patient, and motherly. Even gardens and bakes! The type you know you can always go to when you need advice or comforting.
YEAH I GAVE HER DEAD ANIME MOM HAIR, SO WHAT???? The bangs swooping over one side of her face gives her sort of a mysterious air!
She looks very kind (and that's because she is), but she is also very air-headed. Like she'll pick up a worm and hold it in your face and ask you if you think it's cute.
Has a secret sadistic side. Not malicious and won't go out of her way to cause problems, but she'll gush about how she thinks you being frustrated or struggling with a task is "cute".
The arc Sumire would go on is one revolving around her status as the "older sister" of the group and finding a "pure" way of loving her friends. There's nothing wrong with having that role, but her issue is that she relies on it to be her personality and often gives away too much of herself at the cost of her own mental and emotional wellbeing.
It's like... codependency. She loves you because (whether she knows it or not) she NEEDS validation from others. And because she wants that validation so much, she forces herself to be someone she's not at her core. Someone agreeable and sweet. That becomes very taxing for her.
If she feels as though someone is going to leave her, she'll either love bomb or have a mental breakdown in private. TO BE CLEAR, this is not healthy behavior and she's supposed to grow out of this obsessiveness over the course of the main story.
By that logic, she's more manipulative and selfish than she seems at a glance. I guess you could describe her true personality as being yandere or even menhara?? But she usually masks it well.
Miss Raven has a history of falling for pretty smiles, so I think she'd also be a victim of this one. She would look up to Sumire as like "the peak lady" and the big sis she's always wanted. REALLY feeding into her secret ego there, Miss Raven... and Sumire, being herself, would just giggle and pat her on the head to keep that toxic relationship going.
#disney twisted wonderland#twst#disney twst#twisted wonderland#twst oc#Yuu#twisted wonderland oc#Raven Crowley#notes from the writing raven#question#Hades#Megara#Enchanted#Robert Philip
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Fitz's characterization is so interesting and so hard. He's both very kind AND a bit of an entitled jerk, and most people only manage to capture one of the two.
I think this is well-illustrated in the first few chapters of the series. Fitz and Sophie spend a lot of these chapters rolling their eyes and sniping at each other, because they both have an attitude about the whole thing. In particular, Fitz has his attitude about elvin superiority, and Sophie immediately responds to that negatively.
He'd never heard of Albert Einstein? The theory of relativity was dumb? She wasn't sure how to argue. He seemed so ridiculously confidentâit was unnerving.
On the other hand, it's very clear that Fitz's heart is in the right place (or at least, a well-meaning place). He has his attitude of elvin superiority, but he's thrilled to welcome Sophie into it as well.
Fitz nudged her arm. "Hey. It's not your fault. You believed what they taught youâI'm sure I'd have done the same thing. But it's time you knew the truth. This is how the world really works. It's not magic. It's just how it is."
(And undoubtedly, he's right. He would have believed what he'd been taughtâhe did, just different beliefs!)
The thing is, Sophie doesn't particularly want to jump aboard the elvin superiority train that he's so excited about.
"Well, it's like you're saying, 'Hey, Sophie, take everything you've ever learned about anything and throw it away.'" "Actually, that is what I'm saying." He flashed a smug grin. "Humans do the best they canâbut their minds can't begin to comprehend the complexities of reality." "And what, elves' minds are better?" "Of course.
Fitz reads as a total jerk with what he's saying! He's completely ignorant of the fact that his belief that humans are stupid and evil is like, gonna hurt Sophie's feelings. Because that's what he's been taught!
I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Fitz's character is hugely about prejudice, about people who believe what they are taught, even though it's wrong. And his character is about those people who then have to relearn their beliefs!
Fitz makes so much progress throughout the series in combating his own prejudice, largely through befriending Sophie. His character arc is one of my absolute favorites from any media, ever. I've gone through a lot of the same things he has, having to learn about prejudice and deal with my own biases, the lies that I was taught. His character is very meaningful to me!
But I think that's a piece that so often gets missed when people try to capture Fitz's character. Some people only see the bad parts and choose to portray him as totally evil. Some people focus on the good parts and portray him as more of a victim.
But I don't think either interpretation is totally right. Fitz is nuanced. He means well and truly tries to be kind within his worldview, and once he truly starts to realize his worldview is bad, he works on it! That's way more than a lot of people do. But he he makes a lot of mistakes along the way.
That's a fascinating, relevant character. And that's why he'll always be one of my favorites.
#starting some rereading before unraveled and I'm REALLY trying to work on recapturing fitz's character!#it's so difficult to do but I want to write him again and I want to get it really really RIGHT#kotlc#fitz vacker#stan fitz vacker or perish#meta#kotlc thoughts with catherine#book 1
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Need to cope with everything that happened in Arcane and formulating an AU where everything goes well without Vi having to die because I need Vi and Powder happy damn it! But thinking back that first episode and where things could have diverged and maybe when Powder finds the crystals she shares her discovery which leads to everyone arguing over whether they should take them because on the one hand they look valuable and on the other hand they could be dangerous and they're so loud about it they don't hear the door open until its too late. Now Jayce and Cait get to discover them inside the apartment and everyone just freezes. Cait wants to get the enforcers to deal with it but Jayce gives a very empathetic NO because he's fucking around with things he should not be fucking around with.
The kids definitely pick up on the fact that Jayce doesn't want the enforcers involved which I'm sure Vi would be using to try to get everyone out of their without getting arrested while Cait is like Why not?? Jayce is trying to deal with Vi and Mylo and Claggor while also trying to dodge Cait's increasing questioning because why can't they just get the enforcers. Powder ends up inspecting the big blackboard in there and asks some insightful question or draws some conclusion from it because Powder is Smart which gets Jayce totally distracted because Powder gets his nerd brain working, kinda abandoning the situation at hand to talk to her about what he's doing.
This devolves into Vi bargaining for Powder to get into one of the fancy Piltover schools or else Vi is totally going to rat Jayce out for what he's doing and Jayce is already a scholarship kid basically so he can't really do that but he does offer to teach Powder what he can himself which is acceptable enough and lets the kids pride be soothed because they feel like they got something out of their trip to the upper city. Meanwhile Cait is still freaking out because what do you mean you're going to let them go Jayce, they're thieves! This is probably about the time Vi calls Cait cupcake and Cait turns red for Multiple Reasons and also probably awakens something in her and Cait just gets super flustered and she and Vi start antagonistically flirting.
Anyways everyone parts ways after this with Vi probably pocketing one of the crystals as insurance to blackmail Jayce with in case he tries to renege on the deal. This is then the start of Powder and Vi coming to the upper city for Powder to get lessons from Jayce which mostly consist of the two of them studying hextech and making a lot more strides than Jayce was doing just on his own while Vi just stays there because she's not just going to leave her little sister alone with a stranger and Cait shows up because she doesn't trust these under city kids and also maybe wants to see Vi again and Cait and Vi spend the whole time basically flirtatiously sniping at each other while Jayce and Powder nerd out.
Claggor and Mylo are covering for the girls back in Zaun but eventually Vander finds out what's going on and how the kids even ended up making a deal with some upper city scholar and just kind of has to put his head in his hands because what are these kids doing but also kinda impressed because they went in there to steal and walked out having strong armed someone into giving Powder a semi proper education. Still Vander wants to meet the guy who's teaching his daughter even if he knows Vi wouldn't let her little sister within 15 feet of a creep.
This is also about the same time that Heimerdinger notices Jayce being exceptionally tired lately and manages to get Jayce to admit he's taken on tutoring a kid in his spare time. Heimerdinger is ecstatic that Jayce has discovered a love of learning and wants to meet whoever this young pupil Jayce has taken a shine too though he doesn't want Jayce to burn out. Once Jayce explains he's teaching the kid because she's from the under city, Heimerdinger definitely wants to meet the kid and offer them a place at the academy if they're up to snuff especially considering how talented his assistant Viktor is. Viktor who was in the area at the time of this conversation definitely takes note that Jayce avoided all of Heimerdinger's questions about what he was working on.
Anyways this all leads to Jayce and Heimerdinger taking a trip down to Zaun to meet with Vander and Powder and the rest of the kids too which leads to Heimerdinger meeting Claggor and Ekko who he sees as having a lot of potential too and then I don't really know where things go from there. But I think Heimerdinger who's on the council talking to such a central community figure in Zaun like Vander would really open his eyes and make Heimerdinger realize that there is a lot that can be done to help the under city and I think Vander would be willing to work with him unlike some other people *cough* Silco *cough*. The fact that Vi is looking like the future Mrs. Kiramman would also probably lead to Cassandra and Vander meeting which has a lot of potential to make things happen.
Also please imagine the worlds most awkward meet the family dinner between the posh Kirammans and Vi's incredibly weird found family. The hijinks alone are endless not to mention the drama that would probably unfold there. Especially if Vander and Silco end up reconciling for whatever reason and now you got a council member and a chem baron sharing a dinner table.
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Hello
See Me Through You Series
You had me at hello
Synopsis: The day that you met the love of your life and didn't realize it until almost a year later
Series Masterlist
Stepping onto the sidewalk as you had just left the building where your journalism class had just ended, your phone suddenly vibrated in your back pocket. It took you a minute to grab it, seeing as both of your hands were occupied at the moment. Doing a balancing act with your purse, backpack, keys and your binder that contained your notes, but was too big to fit in your backpack, you finally had a free hand.
Pulling it out of your back pocket, you saw it was your younger twin brother by three minutes Ja'Marr calling on facetime and took no hesitation to answer it. This was his fifth call to you today and knew that about four more would come your way and the worst part about it was that it wasn't even noon.
Not that you were upset about it. If your little brother called and needed you, he always became the priority and everything would be dropped at that very moment.
âWhat does your ugly ass want?â You asked him as his face came into view. He promptly rolled his eyes and sucked his teeth before saying anything. You could tell that he was in the gym and was probably waiting on you to get there since you had promised to work out with him.
âIf I'm ugly, so are you because we're twins, stupid!â
âNo, that's what mom and dad tell you but they actually found you in a dumpster and felt sorry for you and took you in.â You told him as you laughed and started to make your way back to your car to head to your apartment that was off campus.
It was only a few miles down the road which you were thankful for and the good part is that you could also drive home to see your parents on the weekends if you wanted to.
You were relieved when Ja'Marr decided to attend LSU with you because the two of you had never been apart in your entire lives. Deep down you knew that you would have eventually adjusted to him not being at the same college as you, but also glad that you didn't have to go that route.
âY/N!â
âJust kidding! What do you need assistance with, little one?â
âLittle one? I'm 6â1 and you are BARELY 5 feet on a good day. Try again.â
You were suddenly taken aback as you saw someone come into the frame behind him and did a double take once you recognized who it was.
Growing up in a sports filled household, college football as well as the NFL was not foreign to you. You watched both of them and knew players as well as their stats forwards and backwards. So to your surprise, you were actually seeing him in real time. You heard of the transfer happening, but it was different seeing him right in front of you.
So the rumors were true, he was really here.
Joe Burrow
Who used to play for Ohio State apparently was now playing for LSU.
âJa'Marr, I will hang up. State your business or move on.â
âI thought you were supposed to meet me at the gym to work out AND bring my headphones that I know for a fact you stole.â
âYOU CAN'T PROVE IT!â
âHmm, funny. I recall you asking me to use them last week and I haven't seen them since.â
âI threw them away.â
âWHY DO YOU ALWAYS DEMAND ON STRESSING ME OUT? And I have someone here I want you to meet.â
âWho?â
âWill you just hurry up and get here and stop arguing with me!? I can pick your ass up and throw you across the room.â
âHmm, sounds like a threat. I'm calling mommy. Bye.â
âUh hold on, WAIT! DON'T CALL HER!â
Click.
Once back in your apartment, you quickly changed into your pink and black Fabletics workout set with your matching HOKAS and went on the search not only for Ja'Marr's headphones, but also yours. Since he let you borrow his, you didnât bother trying to find yours even though you know you should have.
The both of you worked out with each other several times a week and it was important seeing as he played football and you were on the gymnastics team with your best friend, Erin.
Putting your curly hair into a high bun since you didnât have time to straighten it this morning, you grabbed your wallet, water bottle, and keys before making your way back down to your car and heading to the gym.
Walking inside, you spotted him along with Joe in the corner next to the weight rack and promptly came up behind him and attempted to pick him up as you saw Joe's face giving a small smirk because of the gesture. You admit that you didn't realize how tall Joe actually was and you noticed that he was taller than Ja'Marr when they stood next to one another.
âHEY! Oh, it's just you. Joe, my big little sister by three minutes and she will never let you forget it, Y/N and Y/N this is Joe. And you are never going to be able to pick me up.â He told you while patting the top of your head as you were now trying to pick up his left leg.
âJust you watch. It's going to happen one day when you least expect it. Anyway, Hi Joe, and Ja'Marr you should know better. I already know who you are.â You told him and he looked a little confused before greeting you.
âHey, you do gymnastics right? I saw you compete over the summer.â
You smiled before nodding, taken aback that he knew who you were also. Not a lot of attention was put on gymnastics unless it was during the Olympics. Your goal was to go to Tokyo in 2020.
âDidn't take you for a gymnastics type of guy.â You replied while attempting to fix your hair that had now fallen out of the bun you put it in. You blamed it on not being tight enough the first time.
âIt's entertaining to watch.â
âHmm, because of the outfits?â You asked as you were trying to feel him out and you could've swore you heard Ja'Marr mutter something under his breath.
âNo, I just think it's insane how you can do all those different types of exercises and routines just like it's nothing. You can literally visualize where you're going to land before it happens.â
âIt's the same with football when you think about it. You're a quarterback so I can imagine that before you decide where you're going to throw and who you're going to throw to what the end result will be.â
âSomething like that.â
âStop interrogating the man! Sports journalism is her major and she thinks she's smart. So she of course knows all of the players and their stats. Iâm convinced sheâs going to start memorizing playbooks and try to get on the field with us.â Ja'Marr said as he turned to Joe and you pinched his arm resulting in a yelp as Joe let out a small laugh.
âI'm smarter than your dumbass. That's for sure and are we going to work out or stand here all day? Besides I wasn't interrogating. You can't get to know someone unless you talk to them and ask questions.â You told him as you gave him his headphones.
âI'm ignoring you and what are we working on today?â
âHmm full body I guess. I already did my legs, back, shoulders and arms this week.â You answered as you shrugged and put in your headphones. Flipping through your phone, you tried to find the perfect playlist in order to get through the workout and hopefully finish strong.
You usually hated working out with JaâMarr since he would always want to add on something extra at the end of it when you were ready to go home and crawl into the bed.
Joe and JaâMarr quickly agreed and it was decided that the three of you would warm up by running on the treadmill for three miles before going back to the weight rack.
On your second mile, your music was suddenly cut off by your phone ringing. Looking down you saw that it was Trevor, your boyfriend of one year who happened to play baseball at LSU and that was one of your primary reasons for going there. Also having your brother there was a plus.
Deep down you knew that your brother didnât like him, but to you he was the best thing since sliced bread and could do no wrong in your eyes. But what you didnât notice was JaâMarr glancing over at your phone and seeing it was him and rolling his eyes.
You simply finished out your third mile before going to call him back leaving JaâMarr there along with Joe who had turned down the speed to a brisk walk as he had done the same.
âI fucking hate her boyfriend.â
âWait, what? Heâs here too?â Joe asked as he was looking around.
âNo, I saw that he called her and Iâm guessing that she went to go and call him back. I canât fucking stand him and she could do so much better. But sheâs happy and the last thing I want to do is ruin that for her. He honestly treats her like shit from what Iâve seen, but I guess she doesn't see it that way.â He confessed as Joe had his eyes on you as you were standing in the corner. He figured that you were on facetime by the way you were holding it and making gestures with your hands.
âBut he makes sure to never do that shit in front of me because I will take his ass down. Iâm always going to protect my sister. I honestly wish that she was with someone who respected her and didnât take her for granted like his ass does. She is honestly the sweetest most generous person despite how much we might bicker and she doesnât deserve someone who takes her for granted. But you'll eventually be able to see how sweet she is for yourself. She literally lives up under me. When you see me, nine times out of ten sheâs not too far behind.â
It was at that moment, you walked back over to them and JaâMarr could tell that you were visibly upset.
âPebbles, whatâs wrong?â JaâMarr asked but you simply waved him off.
Ever since you two were about six months old, your aunt on your mother's side started to call the two of you Pebbles and Bam Bam and the nicknames had stuck. It also was no coincidence since your mom used to love watching the Flintstones when she was small just like you and JaâMarr did.
âNothing, Iâm fine. Letâs hurry up and get this done.â You responded as you felt tears forming in your eyes and you did your best to quickly wipe them away.
âYou aren't fine so don't stand up here and lie to me. Did he upset you?â
Joe could now see that he was visibly upset which was in turn making you more upset.
âDon't worry about it, I just want to get this done so I can go back to my apartment and study.â
âIf you need me to kick his ass, I stay ready.â
âJA'MARR! NO!â
âAnd Joe will back me up too. You should see how much he can bench press. No one will know.â
âI⊠I appreciate both of you very much for offering even though you literally just threw Joe in there without giving him a say in the matter, but I promise I'm good.â
âI'm here for assistance if needed.â Joe said and that put a small smile on your face.
âYeah about that, show me how much you can bench press.â
âOh lord, Joe you got her started. Now her competitive ass is going to see if she can beat you. She might be small, but don't let that fool you. She also eats like a grown ass man.â
âBam Bam, keep talking and I will throw that 60 pound dumbbell at your head.â
The workout was winding down and you wanted to work on your pull ups a little bit more since the upper body was your weakest area. You stood in front of the pull up bar and noticed that Ja'Marr was in the middle of his set, so the only other option was to ask Joe for help to reach the bar since there was no way in the world that you would be able to get up there on your own. But he beat you to it as he walked over to you.
âNeed some help?â
âHmm, definitely yes since there is no way in the world I'll be able to reach it by myself.â You replied as you both laughed.
âI got you. Jump up and I'll lift you the rest of the way.â
Nodding your head, you turned around and felt Joe's light touch on both of your sides. You couldn't quite explain it, but when his hands made contact with your skin, the feeling that it gave you felt unreal. Almost if it was something out of a movie. Shaking it out of your mind, you focused on the task in front of you as you jumped up.
As promised Joe helped you the rest of the way and stepped back once he saw that you were hanging onto the bar.
âDo you mind just standing there to spot me? Pull ups aren't my strongest thing.â
âYeah, I'll be right here. Go ahead, you think you can do twenty?â
âHmm, let's find out. I think I can.â
Fifteen of them came with ease and when you started to struggle, you once again felt Joe's hands on your waist and he helped you do the rest of them. You let go of the bar with him then catching you and placing you on your feet.
âThank you for that.â You told him and you received a cheeky smile in return.
âAny time.â
âBy the end of the semester, my plan is to be able to bench press the same weight or more weight than you.â You playfully told him and the smile that he had before became wider.
âI'd love to see that, princess. So let's put some money on it.â
âHow much? 50?â You asked not really knowing how much he was willing to put up.
âNah, you can do better than that.â
âOkay, 500.â You said as you shrugged.
âDamn, I didn't think you would go that high, but okay. Ja'Marr also mentioned to me that since you're the oldest, what you say usually goes between the two of you.â
âHe's teaching you well.â
âHmm, we'll see if that holds up between the two of us.â
âLooks like we just have to see then, won't we Burrow?â
The next day, you found yourself yawning at five in the morning absentmindedly taking small bites of your protein bar as you began to stretch with Erin coming over to sit next to you.
You hated that you had gymnastics practice so early in the day, making all of your classes be in the afternoon or late at night. The campus itself was huge and you didn't always necessarily feel completely safe when you had to walk back to your car late at night.
âSo, did you break up with Trevor yet?â She asked as she began to stretch her arms.
âUh? Good morning to you too, Erin.â
âGood morning, now did you two break up yet?â
âNo, Erin.â
She sighed before rolling her eyes and looking at you in disbelief.
âNobody likes him! Dump his ass! And I don't like the way he treats you. Truth be told, I've never liked him.â
âBut I like him!â You exclaimed and she gave you a blank stare.
âYeah, only you and his bald headed mother. You could do so much better. Oh! Who did you meet yesterday when you went to workout with JaâMarr? I guess you fell asleep and never read my text.â
âJoe Burrow. He plays quarterback.â
âOohh, he's cute! I heard about him transferring here. Break up with Trevor and date him! There, problem solved.â
âERIN!â
âWhat? You have addressed me by my name a lot this morning. I like my plan and I think it'll work. Besides, he's a sucky ass baseball player. My goal is to get my best friend to become a WAG and being with him is not going to get you very far. He didn't even get a scholarship here. He was a walk-on!â
âI have literally only met that man one time and yeah I've said your name a lot because how do you wake up this unhinged!?â
âSo? Love at first sight is an actual thing. I wasn't there, but I know it happened. And it's been that way since we were three.â
âAnd he did help me with my pull ups yesterday.â You told her as you shrugged your shoulders.
âI'm going to start planning the wedding when we leave. My class doesn't start until one today.â She replied as she smiled at you.
âIâŠ-â
âWhat are you two going on about over here?â Your other friend Alisha asked as she sat her bag down to the left of her.
âY/N is getting married to Joe Burrow! We have to start planning!â
âErin, shut up!â
âOh, but he's cute. Do you know if he has any brothers?â Alisha replied as she sat down on the other side of you.
âI.. don't but I will find out for you.â
âAnd slip them my number while we're at it.â
âHe helped her during their workout yesterday. At this point, we can say it was their first date.â
âErin telling everyone's business as usual.â
âHey! I'm just good at storytelling! And he had the perfect view of your ass if he helped you with your pull ups now that I think about it.â
âSometimes I honestly cannot believe you're my best friend.â You said as you couldn't contain your laughter anymore.
âAnd you aren't getting rid of me any time soon.â
Gymnastics practice was always long and draining so you knew what to expect every time. They typically lasted for three hours and when you were finished, you either got breakfast on campus or went back to your apartment to make something as Ja'Marr would also be blowing up your phone to feed him even though he was on an entire meal plan just like you were.
After taking a shower and throwing on some leggings along with an LSU sweatshirt and your converses, you started to walk out the building with Erin since Alisha had to hurry up to get to her class on time, when you spotted Joe.
Of course, Erin noticed too and squealed.
âOoh, there goes your man!â
âErin, be quiet! I don't want him to hear you! You are too loud for it to be eight in the morning!â
âWhy not? And I'm always loud. I'm responsible for this love connection and I'm going to be the maid of honor. He NEEDS to know me.â
Joe had turned around and once he spotted you began making his way over.
âOh shit, here comes your husband!â
âI hate you. I hate you so much right now.â
âYou'll get over it.â Erin said as she smiled.
âMorning princess. Just got out of practice?â He asked as he came up to both of you.
âMorning and yes. Now I'm going to stuff my face. Oh Joe, this is my best friend Erin.â
âHey Erin, pleasure to meet you.â
âYou too and the pleasure is all mine.â She said and you couldn't help but laugh quietly to yourself.
âI was actually going to get food if the two of you wanted to come with me.â
âY/N will go! I have class but she is free ALL MORNING. So I'm going to go and Y/N, I'll text you later. Have fun you two.â Erin practically yelled and you looked at her as if she was crazy.
âAnd then there were two. Where did you want to go to eat?â Joe asked as Erin had started to walk away.
âYou're from Ohio, so you need to get a taste of some good southern cooking that makes you feel like you have just gained ten pounds.â
âLead the way.â
âWe're going on a little adventure off campus, my car is just over there. I think you'll like it.â
Less than a mile from campus was Louie's Cafe that had amazing breakfast as well as brunch foods. Anything that you could possibly think of they served.
On the ride over, the two of you just made small talk and when both of you had placed your orders for your food, you wanted to see how he was feeling for his first game that he would be playing in on Sunday because you already knew Ja'Marr was a nervous wreck.
âHow are we feeling about Sunday? You nervous?â You asked as you took a small sip of orange juice.
âA little bit and I can admit it. I mean I played when I was in Ohio, but I was the backup. Now I'm actually starting. A lot of pressure on my shoulders and I feel like I have something to prove. I want them to be able to see that they made the right choice.â Joe told you and you were clinging to every word.
âBut that's so exciting! What made you transfer here though out of all places?â
âI didn't want to be sitting on a bench for four years. I wanted to be able to play. I know that I'm good, but I just need a chance to show it.â
âHmm, I do love a man with confidence. Well I'm very excited for you and my brother. I hate how you guys aren't playing here, but I'll make sure I'm watching.â
âAlways confident, never cocky. And I'll try to get my first win as a starting quarterback for you.â He responded as he gave you a small smile.
âI can't wait to see it happen so once you get back here, we can celebrate. I can cook, so I can make you something.â
âI've been craving something my mom makes all the time, Snickers Salad.â Joe replied and you looked at him confused.
âUm? Is that an Ohio thing? Because I have no idea what that is.â
Joe nodded as he laughed and your waiter had set your plates down on the table in front of you.
âIt is, but I can always text you the ingredients you need to make it. I figured you could do it justice since Ja'Marr never stops talking about how well you cook.â
âYou need my number to be able to do that.â You Cheekily said, but he fired right back.
âMine is in yours, already. I put mine in when we first got here since I want to be able to see more of these special spots you know about.â Joe confidently told you as he was pouring syrup on his banana pecan pancakes that had been recommended by you.
âI've literally only known you now for about 36 hours and I can say that I like being around you.â
âGood, because I like being around you too.â
Just then your phone rang and of course it was no one other than Ja'Marr.
âPebbles! Are you at Louie's Cafe!?!? And you didn't take me!? I checked your location! I'm hungry too!â
âI took Joe instead because he doesn't get on my nerves like you do.â You told him as you stabbed your eggs.
âWAIT, you took Joe!?!?â
âYes, say hi. You're on speaker.â
âHey Ja'Marr.â Joe said as he was trying not to laugh.
âJoe, just make sure my sister gets me something to go. I'm about to starve messing with her ass.â
âI got you.â
âBye, baby brother.â
âWait! I didn't give you my order!â
âText it to me, bye.â
Once you hung up and placed your phone back on the table, you looked back up at Joe to see him staring at you.
âWhen do you have class?â
âNot until one.â
âYou want to do some more exploring with me? I feel that it's now my obligation as your unofficial tour guide.â
âI get to be around a pretty girl so I'm all for it.â
âJoe, you do know that I have a boyfriend right?â You asked as your face heated up.
âSomeone as pretty as you, I'm not surprised. But what does that have to do with me?â He asked as he winked at you.
This is the first time in your life that you were speechless.
#joe burrow#joe burrow fanfiction#joe burrow lsu#joe burrow x black reader#joe burrow x reader#joe burrow imagine#joe burrow fluff#joe burrow fanfic#joe burrow fic#joe shiesty#cincinnati bengals#nfl imagine#Spotify
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I have another request but i dont wanna be the weird bitch who keeps asking for imagines lmao đ«đ«đ«đ« but like if you ever feel like it and you don't need to write it right now or anything BUT IF YOU WANT TO could you do a slash(him rn, oldie) imagine when y/n is friends with london and his relationship isnt going well so Y/N is like his young side bitch LMAO đđđźâđš so whenever he fights with his wife he comes to you and like you cook for him and you watch movies etc and y/n makes him feel young and whatever else and HOT!!!!!!!!!!! I WANT THIS MAN NAKED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I really love your writing btw đ«¶
itâs okay request as much as you want đ
(Omg this photo from when he was in velvet revolverđââïž)
WARNING âŒïž (smut, fingering, pet names, overstimulation, age gap,) I think thatâs allđ„Č
đđžđłđŽ đžđđœđ đ°đ»đđ°đđ đ±đ°đł
Iâve been friends with this guy named London, he used to go to my high school until we graduated, and we stayed in touch, and guess fucking what, this motherfuckers dad was slash.
Yes the slash.
The fucking guitar player for Guns âNâ Roses, my favorite band of all time, I grew up on them, my dad basically raised me on them, and I even started playing guitar because of slash, and now I knew the fucker?
Did I tell London this? No fucking way, he would never let me over, it had to be obvious though, every time I go over there, Iâm like a horny spaze over his father, and best believe when I graduated, I lived there basically, did slash have a wife. Yes.
Thatâs didnât fucking stop me.
I would always be around him, like a lost puppy, London didnât notice as much, but slash had too. It was pathetic, wearing subjective clothing, and showing off my breasts since I knew he had a thing for them, itâs not like I havenât seen his instagram.
But it didnât seem wrong, we were close, did his wife hate me? Fucking probably, but I honestly didnât care, she was a bitch to him, and I know I could treat him better.
All I wanted was to be with that man, he was everything I ever wanted, he was a huge horror movie fan, loved music, fucking played the music I loved, and we loved a lot of the same topics, and when I would sleepover, I would go downstairs, knowing slash was a night owl, we would just sit on his couch and talk for hours.
Recently something has been off, London didnât want to tell me, but I could tell slash and meegan were having problems, I heard them arguing earlier in the day, I tried to talk to him, but he pushed me away, he didnât want to talk to anyone, it honestly made me upset.
All I wanted was to hold him and play with his hair and tell him how great he is, how he doesnât deserve her, how I could be better. I can be better. I would be better.
And tonight was like any other night, I was sleeping over at Londons house, I was sitting in his room, bored as all hell, he was out, snoring and everything, so I made my way downstairs, originally wanting to get water, but kinda wishing slash was down there. Maybe I could talk to him about everything.
I tried to be quiet walking down the stairs, they were always so damn creaky.
As I made my way down to the stairs, I heard panting almost? I was confused, as I got to the bottom step, I saw the back of slash head, only his silhouette, since the TV was on, it lit him up.
But his head was throw back, and I realized he was the one that was panting, I got closer to only see him jerking himself off, my legs almost gave up on themselves.
My heat pooled, felt like it was going down my legs, I put my hand over my mouth, trying not to make a sound, but I had a wave of confidence go threw my body, and I walked right up to him, standing in front of him.
Trying not to cringe at myself, I hated being confident, but around him, I felt like I could.
âOh shit, fuck, sorry.â Slash looked up in worry, covering himself, getting the blanket next to him, I started nodding my head ânoâ right away.
âNo, no, no itâs okay, let me help.â I whispered the last part, sitting down next to him, he raised an eyebrow, I tried to put my head in his thigh and I wanted to rub it up to his member, but he stopped my hand with his.
His eyes went big, I could see his member through the blanket, my pussy was throbbing at this point, ây/n⊠come on, you know we canât.â He had a smile on his face, it almost like he wanted too, but he knew he couldnât.
I smiled at him back, there was so much sexual tension, it wasnât even funny, are hands were still on top of each others, âslash, let me make you feel good.â I whined to him, squeezing his hand slightly, he looked around, then grabbed my waist, putting me in his lap, grabbing my face, and slamming his lips onto mine.
I felt euphoric. I felt like I was on cloud 9, I have always wanted this moment, for fucking years. Feeling his shaft under me, was⊠I couldnât even explain.
His hands traveled to my ass, his hands were soft, yet rough, he massaged my ass softly, kissing down my neck, I couldnât help myself from grinding on him, I saw his eyebrow go up, âyouâre one eager little girl, arenât ya?â He spoke in a soft deep tone.
âI canât help it, I mean, look where we are.â I giggled, putting my hands around his neck, titling my head, looking into his eyes, before grinding one more time, it was so fucking amazing, I felt him. Since he only had the blanket under him.
âCan you be quiet?â He grinned, kissing my lips once more, slinging his hand that was previously on my ass to the front of my stomach, I looked down as he started to play with the hem of my shorts.
I nodded my head, biting my lips barely, all I needed was him. I needed something. Anything.
He smiled, pulling down my shorts, I lifted up, leaving them on the ground, leaving my only in my Lacey black thongs, his finger tips went down to my clit, playing with it so softly.
My lips parted at his action, my eyes had a glaze over them, he licked his lips, loving how he had me, only after a few touchâs. âJust stay quiet doll.â He smiled, laying a kiss my exposed neck.
I gave a small whimper in response, he brought his full fingers to my clit, rubbing it roughly now, his other hand was behind my neck now, making me look at him.
âDoes this feel good honey?â He was so soft, so gentle. I loved every moment. âYes, yes, it really does.â I whined, as he slide his fingers down to my entrance, teasing it softly, before slipping his middle finger into me.
Pumping it in and out, making me moan quietly, I gasped when he pushed his second digit into me. âStay quiet, you donât wanna get in trouble? Donât ya? We wouldnât want that now.â He smirked, bringing my head to the crook of his neck.
After he said those words, I was invested, I needed to know what âtroubleâ was, whatever it was or is, I needed it. Now.
Soooo I started moaning louder, louder than I shouldâve, even though I was in his neck, it was definitely still audible, he pulled me by my hair to make me look at him.
âI told you to be quiet, now shut the fuck up.â He gritted through his teeth, I didnât even notice that he took off the blanket, pulling his fingers out of me, whining at the lost of him, and then he just slammed into me, giving me now warning, and his thrusts were fast and hard.
He wasnât stopping anytime soon.
My eyes shoot open, mouth parted wider, and I brought myself closer to him. He grabbed my ass, pounding into me, his hand that was on my hair, is now on my mouth, forcing me to be quiet.
Fuck this is going to be a long night.
đŸđœđŽ đ·đŸđđ đ»đ°đđŽđ
âFUCK SLASH, NO MORE, IM SO FUCKING SENSITIVE!â I yelled at the top of my lungs, we were in his bedroom now, he had me bent over his bed, still pounding into me, I already cummed four timesâŠ
I know.
I felt a hand slap my ass, and I went to look back, his head was fully back, his thrusts got sloppy, I knew he was close, finally.
He grabbed my hips, using me, not caring what I said, itâs not like it didnât feel good. It was so much at once.
I loved every moment.
âS-SHIT FUCK.â His voice got higher, shooting his seed into me, coating my walls, my legs trembling, I felt his body weight in my back, after he came he just laid on top of me for a good minute. I giggled softly, at this action, he rolled over next to me, looking to the side at me.
âWell, that wasâŠ. Um, unexpected.â He chuckled, moving his hair off his sweaty forehead, grabbing my waist, bringing me closer to his sweaty torso. â Iâve always wanted to do that.â I mumbled under my breath, he scooted up the bed, laying in the middle of the bed with me in his big muscular arms, his hair tickling my shoulder.
âI know, I know.â He laughed, kissing my cheek, before getting off the bed. âWhere ya going?â I looked up, he smiled at me, âIâm fucking showering, I have too many body fluids on me.â I laughed at his joke, realizing he was right.
fuck that was a night.
đđ·đŽ đœđŽđđ đŒđŸđđœđžđœđ¶
after a good night sleep in slashâs arms, his shampoo filling my nostrils, having clean clothes on both of our bodyâs, I was worried his wife was going to walk in on us, but thank fuck she wasnât coming home anytime soon, she went on a business trip or whatever slash said, I kinda zoned out.
While he was still sleeping like a baby, I decided to be the wife he should have, making him a hearty warm breakfast, when I started cooking the bacon, he immediately got up, walking to the kitchen.
âAre you cooking?â Slash said in a sleepy tone, leaning against the counter, tilting his head, with a big smile on his face, I nodded my head, not looking away from the pan, scared I was going to get burned.
I felt a pair of arms wrap around my waist, and a kiss on my neck, âyou doing this for me doll?â He spoke in a whisper tone, my heart felt so warm at his touch.
âI wanted to show you, I could be a better wife.â I heard a deep chuckle from him, making my panties getting wet all over again, even though my body was covered with bruises, hickeys, marks, anything imaginable.
âYou proved that last night doll.â
(Sorry it took so long)
#gnr fanfiction#slash fanfiction#fanfic#music#80s#guns and roses#slash gnr#actually mentally ill#girlblogging#love music#being in love#slashâs snakepit#slash smut#slash#slash serpentineđ#slash guns n roses#gnr#gnr x reader#gnr smut#gunners#gunsnroses#guns n' roses#guns n roses
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I really enjoy all of this too :D
Aonuma's comment about nostalgia was also because he genuinely seems to think more freedom = better games, so he doesn't understand why some fans like me prefer the old Zelda formula when it was more "restrictive" in his opinion.
I still prefer to keep the timelines separated but what you're saying makes sense, I better understand how it could work! I like the idea that the merging would be the result of very careful planning by the gods/goddesses that would take millenia, it's kind of fascinating (you're right "just" was a bit of a stretch). Don't worry my take is probably very confusing too, it has time travel and a whole crazy fourth timeline ^^
It's definitely been a while since SS, though I always found the time scale in BotW a bit ridiculous (10 000 years since the first Calamity just sounded like an alternate way of saying "a very long time ago" to me). Oh you didn't like the dragons in BotW? I love seeing them flying over Hyrule, I always stop to watch them. At least they're way better than the ones in SS, I still think they looked kind of terrible đ
Yes Faron is the Water Dragon in SS and Lanayru is the Thunder Dragon, which never made sense to me (especially with Farore's Flame still being green and Nayru's being blue). The opposite would have been better in my opinion. It's a real pain in my side because the dragons play a big role in my story and I want them to be the same ones from SS (with an explanation for the way they changed), so until I find something not too convoluted to explain the swap I just ignore the inconsistencies⊠Anyway even with their elements swapped I think it's hard not to see the link with SS, especially with the sacred springs being on the map (sure SS only had two, but still). And if the dragons don't talk it's simply because they play no role in BotW ^^
I don't mind when things are a bit vague because it allows us to theorize, but I still think something as big as Rauru claiming to be the first king when he is not should be explained, that's way too confusing. What you said could be the case, but then I would have loved an explanation from Rauru himself. It didnât need too be very detailed, just that he founded this new version of Hyrule on the ruins of an ancient kingdom with the same name.
(Also the new timeline we got in TotK Master Works is very confusing, it really makes TotK look like some kind of reboot. The events of Skyward Sword are never mentioned, the Secret Stones replace the Triforce, and Rauru is confirmed to be the first king of Hyrule. But maybe it could work with your theory, the gods/goddesses could merge the three timelines and then start all over again in this way. But I really wish they wouldn't kind of erase previous lore this way).
I think it's a bit different for the Oocca and the Minish, since both TP and MC had the excuse of being released before Skyward Sword and the official timeline (and they weren't sequels to other games). I won't argue about MC though, I think it never really fit in the timeline because it's too different from the rest.
In TP the entire story wasn't about the Oocca and they weren't the ones to seal Ganon, to name the Sages, to be the first rulers of Hyrule⊠Shad only theorized that they were the real creators of Hyrule, and since no one travels through time to see it happen there's a possibility that he just got them mixed with the Skyloftians.
Hyrule in game is the size of Kyoto, but I think we can assume in reality it would be a lot bigger, maybe even like a continent. I mean I can't imagine having a desert, a jungle, a volcano, and a few snowy montain chains cramped up together in such a small area ^^ Hebra alone could be the size of the Alps or something like that. But I agree, it would definitely be nice to know what's happening outside of Hyrule!
Yes the stones are blank power modifiers, I just find it a bit⊠lame. But my major issue with them is that I don't see how owning one makes anyone a Sage. As I said in previous games Sages had important roles and had a more spiritual aspect to them than just being warriors with magicial abilities (that's more like being a Champion from BotW). Usually the Sages all need to be awaken by Link for their shared power to be effective, which is something I like a lot. In TotK you can go straight to Ganondorf and fight all the bosses without the help of the Sages or with only half of them if you're good enough, and since I've seen people do it with only one heart we know that Link is canonically perfectly able to do so. That makes the Sages useless (the same could be said of the Divine Beasts in BotW, but it's less lore breaking. Though the fact that you can beat Ganon without the Master Sword is another story).
It's as if OoT Link didn't need the Sages to seal Ganondorf in the Sacred Realm and could confront him any moment after fighting all the bosses in a row. That would basically ruin Ocarina of Time.
I know about On'nen, I've actually read a bit about it to better understand Zelda lore and Demise's curse (though I may not have gone as deep as you). I'll definitely check QuestWithAaron, that sounds very interesting (thanks!). I didn't know gloom was Shoki though, I didn't understand why it was not malice anymore in TotK so that's a good point. But I think it confuses things even more between TotK Ganondorf and BotW Ganon for people who don't know Shintoism, which isn't ideal.
I still don't think Ganondorf with a secret stone would be more powerful than Ganondorf with the Triforce of Power. TP Ganondorf has just as many reasons for his resentment to grow after being exiled to the Twilight Realm, but he still can't break the Master Sword and he has a piece of the Triforce. I was really expecting an explanation for that later in the game, especially after Ganondorf recognizes Link and Zelda at the beginning and mentions Rauru (I was so excited about this, it felt big). That's one thing I hope I can better explain in my story.
Btw in French malice is indeed called "rancĆur" (rancor) and gloom is "miasmes" (miasma). I'm not sure the official reason for weapon durability in BotW was malice, but it could be a good way to explain it!
Haha the Zonai being evolved Remlits is a fun idea ^^
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You're welcome! Yes something like Croifluances could work, though I prefer Confluances. It sounds closer to Crossflows so it could be a good idea! For Mipha it would be Cour Sainte Mipha (saint is masculine). Cour might not be the right word though, in French a "cour" is an open space enclosed/surrounded by buildings (more like a courtyard actually!). The French translation went with Parc Mipha, and I could also see something like Promenade.
Yes games centered around the non-Hylian races would be interesting. Though I think what I would love to see most in a future game is a Gerudo King that is not Ganondorf and is portrayed in a positive light.
OoT and MM are my favorites so I completely agree, I want to see something like that again. The subtext and depth of these games were unlike anything they did since, I really miss it ^^
Hi, sorry if this is a bit rude. đ
I guess that I was just wondering. How would Jabul Waters, Zora Cove, & Crossflows Plaza be named in French?
I'm trying to give Jabul Waters an interesting name that works to go with my hc & I came up with "Jabuleaux." And Google Translate tells me that Crossflows Plaza would be Place des Flux Croisés. And, I'm seeing that Anse is the term to refer to a cove &, if that's true, then would Zora Cove be Zoranse? At the same time, somewhere else, it said that Anse actually means beach.
And, I believe that a town by a swamp would have cher, quier, bren, brin, or Hor- in it?
I'm sorry if this is weird... đ
Hi! Don't worry it's not rude or weird at all! I offered to help and I'm happy to do so :D
Did you check the official French translations? I had a surprisingly hard time finding the French version of the map online so here's a screenshot I took myself:
Jabul Waters = Eaux de Jabule (this one only appears when I zoom out)
Zora Cove = Baie Zora
Crossflows Plaza = Place de l'Estuaire
In case you didn't know the Zelda Wiki often lists names for places or characters in various languages in the "Nomenclature" section of its pages. It's very helpful especially if you're searching for the original Japanese names. If we look at at the different names for Crossflows Plaza we can see that a literal translation from Japanese would be something like "Exchanging Place". I checked the Jisho dictionary and it seems to be an accurate translation, though "Place for Cultural Exchanges" would be more meaningful.
It's not exactly a good name in English so it makes sense that the localization team would come up with something like Crossflows Plaza instead, which in my opinion does a very good job of stating that this is both the place where the river meets the sea and where the two Zora tribes traditionally meet each other.
Other European languages all settled for variations of "Estuary Plaza" ("Place de l'Estuaire" in French), which is fine but looses the "cultural exchanges" aspect of both the original name and the English translation.
I've been trying to come up with a French translation of "Crossflows Plaza" but it's not that easy. To me "Place des Flots Croisés" or "Place Flots-Croisés" would sound better than "Place des Flux Croisés", but I still find it a bit weird ("flot" meaning flow, tide or stream). "La Croisée des Flots" is another option if you agree to get rid of Plaza/Place (it means "the intersection/junction of streams"), but I don't think it works very well as a name.
You could also mix words to create a name the same way it was done in English, something like "Place Croiseaux" (croiser/cross + eau/waters). If any of my French speaking followers is feeling inspired, please share your ideas! :)
(I just thought of "Place Cruciflot" and found it too funny not to mention đ maybe it sounds too much like crucifix)
In French we also have the word "confluence" that has the exact same meaning as it does in English: either the meeting of two rivers or a gathering of some kind. So to me the most obvious translation would be something like "Place des Confluences" or maybe "Place Confluence", as it would preserve the dual meaning, but it's not very fancy or creative. Maybe we could simply change the spelling to something like Place Konfluans, the same way "Village CÎtier" (Seaside Village) is spelled "Village Kothié" (Seesyde Village). But it doesn't look like a French word anymore so I'm not sure that's something you'd like.
As for Jabuleaux, it can work but I prefer the official translation "Eaux de Jabule". Same thing for Zoranse, we would say "Anse Zora" or "Anse des Zora". The official French translation is "Baie Zora" (Zora Bay), which I think is more appropriate given the size of the sea inlet (in my understanding an anse/cove is a small baie/bay and isn't very deep). I think maybe it should have been bay in English as well instead of cove, but I might be wrong! Also I believe "anse" isn't used as often as "baie" and might be confusing for most people, so I would go with "Baie Zora".
I'm not sure where you found this information about swamps and town names? I didn't find anything to confirm it but I might not have looked in the right places.
French towns are often ancient and their names can derive from other languages such as Celtic, Occitan, Flemish, or regional dialects, so that's a very difficult question and I'm not sure I can give you a satisfying answer ^^
I still did a little search and found an Old French word for swamp, "palud" or "palu", that still appears in some town names such as La Palud-sur-Verdon, Saint-Pierre-la-Palud, Lapalud, etc. (today we say "marais" or "marécage"). You might be right about "bren", it could be something like muddy in Gallic.
There's also "vign" or "mign" (from Celtic), as in MignĂ©ville or LĂ©vignac, or l'Ăle de Migneaux on the Seine river (this one's in my city!).
Near where I grew up is a town named Hazebrouck, it literally means "hare swamp" (brouck/broek = swamp in Flemish). For a bit more French flavor you could maybe use -broucq or -breucq instead of -brouck.
I think the vast majority of French people have no clue about all of that (I didn't except for the last one and it's more Flemish than French), so I'd say don't oversweat it ;)
And that's all! I hope you'll find this helpful ^^
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sorry im emotonal and going off of the other asks sent about machete and just i need to stress how beautiful it is to me that machete sees himself so undeserving of love and affection and feeling as if vasco's too good for him but despite all that he is so incredibly devoted to vasco and loving towards him (in his own way) but is so incredibly clear to anyone with eyes that just how in love he is with vasco. like it's not done out of a "oh god please never realize that you're too good for me here here let me overdo it with the affection" its done with the "i love you, and will always love you, no matter what happens to us or separates us, and i will give it to you as long as i am able, and if you ever leave, i won't be okay, but will still love you, and want you happy". like he doesn't use his own feelings of being undeserving taint his love or the way he loves for vasco, and it's so, so beautiful
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#;M;#oauhh#that's so sweet I'm in shambles and so glad to hear all of that#sometimes I worry about whether I'm communicating their chemistry correctly#it would be so easy for this sort of relationship to gain suffocating and possessive and overall just abusive tones#and even though you could argue it would be a source for juicy drama I just don't want that#Machete could selfishly exploit Vasco's care and altruism without giving anything in return#or worse let his paranoia and jealousy get the better of him and end up destroying them both because if he can't have Vasco no one can#and Vasco could leverage his influence over Machete to manipulate and use him because out of them two he's the more mentally stable one#and it would be easy to take advantage of Machete's vulnerability obedience and his trust that Vasco would never harm him#but I don't know maybe it's a bit tropey and idealistic but I really just want these dogs to be genuinely good for each other#they have so many things working against them already I don't wish to see them backstab each other as well#they have a bit of a 'us against the world' thing going on which I really like#they're not perfect there's issues they're trying to work on but the will to get through it together is there#and I want to make it seem like they wouldn't hesitate to prioritize the other one's happiness and wellbeing at their own expense#if it came to that#anwered#anonymous
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i think the whole "jin guangyao cares more for his male best friend's life than for those of his own wife and son" thing, beyond being fun xiyao fuel, has a lot of interesting implications in the way jin guangyao latches onto lan xichen as an ideal to aspire to.
ultimately jin guangyao liked lan xichen's status and power more than he cared for qin su, a woman who sincerely loved him and fought her parents to be with him even when he had no real status or backing, and jin rusong*, who couldn't have been more than four when he was murdered for politics' sake.
#keri chats#jin guangyao#lan xichen#qin su#jin rulan#xiyao#mdzs#mdzs spoilers#mo dao zu shi#yeah jin guangyao's an equally complex and shitty person but consider this: i think he's neat#you can tell that even though he genuinely does care abt lxc there's a layer of pity enclosing their relationship...#lxc pities how jgy is treated + jgy basks in it. for all the crimes jgy commits he wants to be pitied and loved HE CANONICALLY SAYS THIS#once lxc's doubt compounds n his suspicions grow strong enough for him to openly question jgy and shut him out of the cloud recesses#they argue and fall apart. which is 1) hilarious 2) sad#i don't doubt they really did care about each other. but lxc is unwilling to act in a way that doesn't benefit his class/family#and jgy is unwilling to act in a way that doesn't seek more power for himself... until the final moment where he pushes lan xichen away.
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I wanna know ur Fontaine msq criticisms đïžđïžđIâm all ears
I'm not sure if you wanted me to talk about this secretly or publicly but! Here I go!
The TLDR: Fontaine MSQ aestheticised prison, poverty, child abuse, the justice system/court and didn't properly address any of it.
More:
Focalors/Furina has way too much of a sympathetic angle for a dictator who's lets people drown with her inaction.
Neuvillette feels Bad for sentencing some people to death/prison, but that's it. He's one of the most powerful people in Fontaine. If he felt like there are systemic injustices, I.E sending an abused Child to prison, he should be the first person to DO something about it, not just cry and be sad so the audience can be like aw, that's complex character writing isn't it? No it's not! And guilt doesn't absolve you!!!!!!! (These are stuff we deal with in OTCOJ read my fic now /j)
Meropide has children in it, both Sentenced there (Wriothesley) and BORN THERE (Lanoire), and this is just a quirk of the place. Not only that, Meropide accepts prisoners of all genders and crimes. There are abusers and abuse victims in one place. Do you know how bad that is? How much potential for crimes to happen in a place like thatâ oh wait, Meropide isn't under Fontaine's jurisdiction. If you are assaulted as an inmate it literally means nothing to the court.
Wriothesley had no qualifications when he took over. Depending on how long he lived on the streets, how old he was when he killed his parents, how old he was when he was first taken in by the orphanage, etc, the man might never have more than 4â5 years of formal education. Sigewinne probably had to teach him how to write reports. And do Meropide's spreadsheets. Edit because I forgot to elaborate on this one: This isn't a point brought up anywhere, which is bad, because when poverty and incarceration robs you of a proper education (and the rights to vote in many places too, too, by the way), it reduces your prospects for jobs, reduces many people's ability to get a home etc etc. Wriothesley was just, narratively, Given his position.
Meropide is an industrialized prison, and they portray this as a good thing. Prisoners are paid in coupons for their labour, and this is also portrayed as a good thing.
The One-Meal-A-Day reform was something Paimon gushed about being so great of a perk, that people might want to go to jail for food (could be interesting and reflective of systemic poverty if MHY had brains, but they don't, so I was just Pissed because essentially all Paimon wanted to say was "Prison isn't so bad, but still don't go to prison guys! Prison labour is really hard!"). By the way, in most real-world prisons they are obligated to feed you three meals a day. Because that's how much food a human needs. MHY went with one meal just so they can say "if you want to eat more, you have to work." And then the welfare meal is a goddamn gacha. So imagine you're a starving child who's too weak to work in the fucking robot assembly line, and you wander up for your first meal in 24 hours, only to luck in with a shit one. I'd kill myself.
They wrote Wriothesley, who's a victim of the system, into a guy who's say shit like "I'm the Duke I can do whatever I want" for a cool moment where he choke-slams an inmate (I know he was a bad guy. But also, in copaganda when cops are violent/disregarding protocols, they are always only portrayed to do that against bad guys, so what does our critical thinking tells us about this one?) They wrote Wriothesley, who was an inmate of a prison so bad, so notorious that it is the literal boogeyman of Fontaine, that has a legal (???) fighting pit, with an administrator who abuses his position to be unreasonable, to willingly stay in the place and become an Administrator who would choke-slam an inmate while saying a cool line about how he has the power to do whatever he wants. They wrote him, the guy who had to be fed on the streets by melusines, to think one-meal-a-day was a good enough reform (while he spends god-knows how much on his boat). This wasn't a victim-turns-into-abuser narrative either, they want all this to be seen as positive character growth.
And then, the final kicker is, they gloss over his entire abuse. You can only read about these shit in his profile, which most people don't because they don't Have Him or doesn't care to unlock it/read it online, and they jammed his entire backstory into a flaccid info-dump at the end of his character story quest. This man isn't Allowed to feel abused and neglected and show any reaction to it within the narrative of Fontaine itself, because if they actually Gave Weight to what happened to him, they'd have to confront THE FUCKING JUSTICE SYSTEM they had NO PLANS on criticising. I don't think they ever explicitly said the fucking Crime-Theatre nonsense was Bad either.
I could go on, but this is already so long. But yeah, I hope this gave you an idea.
#and then. and im putting my most controversial opinion in the tags bc im scared lmao. but like... then... you have the fans..... doing......#the same fucking thing.#the amount of times I have seen Wriothesley used as just a side prop for Neuvillette to feel bad about shit. While Wriothesley is just.....#portrayed as having the inner peace and acceptance of a fucking monk. I was shocked when I read some fics I swear#they really said this man has no trauma at all! the stuff in his past? he's over it!#i hate that passivity when writing victims. like ok if One is written like that#sure. but MHY write all their victims like this#I mean look at fucking Lanoire#and Neuvillette sentenced him to prison after he killed his parents who were never confronted by the law. That's canon.#that's more canon than WRLT itself.#why weren't they confronted? did wriothesley try to talk to someone about it? why did he feel like killing them is his only option ?????#at least have there be some sort of conflict and friction there. How does Wriothesley feel about the court and Neuvillette when#this is the literal system that allowed all that shit to happen to him in the first place???#are you Sure he won't be at least a little wary? the fact that some people think he's Grateful to Neuvillette or even idolises him is crazy#because the man literally subjected him to prison. and if you want to portray his prison life as easy breezy and trauma free#you undermine his entire shitty little 'prison reform' narrative#and if you think he'd be completely 100% accepting of the justice system. Then why the fuck would he kill his parents himself#don't you see that the whole 'I'll accept whatever sentence in order to kill my parents' thing in itself is an act of defying the system#and I Hate#this idea. about being some of the most powerful men in the nation. and yet they can't fucking TRY to set up a better system or smth#i can't believe I read a fic where leaving starving street kids croissants is the most they (the characters and the writer) want to do#like. what the fuck. the whole point of that scene is just to make neuvillette feel bad and be like aw......... poor people exist.... OK???#this is literally how MHY would portray him though.... tbf..... This is what ppl would argue as 'in character'#I just think the character they're in is bad.#I will say I'm giving the fic a lot of grief. there's more to the scene than that. and. ultimately.....#fanfic is (saying this through gritted teeth) ........ recreational....................and free........... in the end.................#i dont think this is reflective of the writer. I do think it is reflective of the way the canon material (genshin impact)#presents in the audience who consumes it. most fans only want these guys to fuck anyway. not think about systemic injustices#canon doesn't make it about the systemic injustices either so why should we. the aesthetic of slums and prisons are just there for fun guys#IM JUST CRAZY OK. I SHOULDNT EVEN BE HERE THIS IS NOT FOR ME . I DONT CARE THAT MUCH FOR PEOPLE FUCKING AND I CARE TOO MUCH
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