#like that scene was upsetting but that moment was gold

[hacash]

I can think that watching the Richmond team playing dirty on pitch was fundamentally upsetting and a clear display of toxic masculinity and that it’s hilarious as fuck that the two smallest players on the team (Bumbercatch and Richard) got red carded for violent play, ok; it’s called multitasking

[strawberryyivy]

➜ GARDENS OF BABYLON

summary: clarisse la rue x daughter of apollo reader. reader hates clarisse until she doesn't hehe. reader is a little bit of a bitch sorry!! just a bit tho! ooc clarisse maybe? and no smut ofc :) just sweet girls in love mwah

warning: reader dates a man but there's not a lot of details about that, bad writing sorry:/

word count: 5k (im so sorry i got carried away)

Help Palestine 🇵🇸!

It could be love, we could be the way forward and I know I'll pay for it

You weren't sure about many things in your life, but one think that you were pretty sure about, was the that you and Clarisse had nothing in common.

She was rude and mean. She didn't hesitate when it came to hurting people. She was cold. She was exactly what you expect an Ares child to be like. So you tried to keep your distance as much as possible.

It was hard, though. The first time you went to camp, you were twelve, extremely scared and insecure, and she did not help your case, at all. You still remembered, how rude she was to you on your first week, how upset she made you and how she made fun of you for crying afterwards. You still remembered watching as the smile appeared on her face the second she saw the tears in your eyes. You could never forget that look. And you could definitely never forgive her, either.

After that, you had very small interactions, you got claimed after two months, which was good enough for you. You made friends, you grew up and gained confidence in yourself and in your abilities. And that whole incident with Clarisse just became a distant memory. But she was still always around. And you were always trying to pretend like she wasn't.

But your whole opinion on her was about to change, and it all started one night, at the bonfire.

At the time you were dating a guy, Jacob, and you liked Jason, you really did, he was nice – most of the time, he was funny– sometimes, he liked to spend time with you, and you never heard anything bad about him. And you were having fun, he was entertaining you, which sounded wrong, and although, you could never admit it out loud, that's all that he was. Entertainment. So the moment he expressed his wish for more, for something a bit more serious, you called it off.

Reality was, you didn't want a relationship, you didn't need one. Your life was crazy as it is, you didn't need one more thing to be preoccupied about, you just wanted to have fun, that's all you needed at the moment. But he did not take that well. That guy you knew disappeared the moment you told him you wanted to stop seeing him.

And yes, maybe it was kind of bad that you decided to end things at the bonfire, with people around – people that could easily listen to your conversation and spread the gossip later. And sure, maybe you were a bit cold towards him, but he did not need to make a scene, a huge scandal. And that was exactly what he did.

You still remember the dirty looks people gave you afterwards, all the whispers, all the rumors surrounding you two. And it made you crazy, people knew nothing about the situation, but they still talked like they did.

And that's when Clarisse came in. You didn't know she was there that night, you didn't know she saw the whole thing.

You were practicing your favorite activity, archery. It made you feel calm, in the moment, and that's exactly what you needed. That was, until you heard a very familiar voice, speaking close to you, way too close.

"Hi pretty"

You could swear your heart stopped for a moment, you turned around fast, the bow and arrow in your hands quickly forgotten.

The moment you met her eyes, your stomach flipped, a weird and unusual feeling making its way to your chest. Her eyes were locked on yours, her body was close enough that you could feel her breath in your face, you could see the gold in her eyes due to the sun light. And it all just added to that uneasy feeling.

And you were still trying to process the fact that she called you pretty.

"Hello." your voice sounded weak, it made you curse yourself.

"Do you have a minute? Promise it'll be quick." Clarisse tilted her head a little, a small smile on her face.

You looked around, trying to understand what was going on. She had no good reason to talk to you, you weren't her friend, or anything, for that matter. Maybe it was one of those times when she just wanted to bully someone and you were the chosen one. That thought made you back away from her.

"No, I don't."

You turned around, putting your bow and arrow on their place and ready to go back to your cabin, far away from her.

"Oh come on, princess, why not?" You could still hear her as you walked away, hoping she would get the hint. "Aren't you a little curious to know what I wanna talk about?"

You felt her hand on your wrist, making you turn around, face to face with her again. "It's about your little boy Jacob, you know? The one who humiliated you in front of everyone?"

She still had that stupid smile on her face, making you roll your eyes. "And what does whatever you want have to do with me? We are not together anymore, and I don't want anything to do with you. Or him!" you were about to leave when you heard her again.

"I want revenge. Are you sure you're not interested?" you turned around slowly, studying her face. "That little shithead hurt one of my sisters, and I haven't put anyone in their place in a while."

That last part made your heart skip a beat, you knew exactly what she meant, you were one of those people once. But different to Jason, you were just a kid, you didn't deserve what she did to you.

"No, I'm not. Have fun terrorizing him though, you always do anyway."

For the third time, you walked away from her, and much for your disappointment, she let you go.

•┈୨♡୧┈•

"Did you do anything stupid lately?"

You lifted your eyes from your food and looked at your friend in front of you, laughing a little at her question. "What?"

"Like, I don't know, did you do something that I need to know about?" the confusion in your eyes made her look behind you, making you turn your head to look as well. Clarisse was staring at you, a weird expression on her face. "She won't stop staring, please tell me you didn't do something against her, that girl could easily kill–"

"Oh gods, I didn't do anything!" You couldn't help but laugh again, turning back to Anya. "She's just probably upset I turned down an offer she made a few days ago."

"What offer? Why don't I ever know about anything?!"

"It's nothing important really, she wants to do something to Jacob, I don't know what, I just know he hurt her sister and I think she wanted my help to 'put him in his place'? Her words not mine."

"Wow, that's weird. And you just simply said no? Just like that?"

"I mean yeah, I don't want him to hate me even more than he already does."

"Makes sense."

You two went back to being silent for a second, before Anya spoke again. "You know, maybe she wanted to get close to you, or something, I don't know."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, why would she ask your help on something she could easily do it on her own? I mean, it's a bit weird, right? Maybe she wanted to get to know you."

"I doubt that."

You tried not to think much about it, and pretend that you didn't like the idea of Clarisse wanting to be close to you. But as you closed your eyes that night, ready to go to sleep, the only thing you could think about was pretty brown eyes, with a little bit of gold in them.

•┈୨♡୧┈•

Two days later, as you were walking to practice you saw Jacob, he didn't see you, he was talking to his friend, something you couldn't really hear, but what really caught your attention, was when he lifted up his shirt, his stomach was dark purple, bruises all over it. And you didn't have to think twice to figure out who did that.

And you didn't know why, you just needed to see her, you needed to ask her so many questions, so that's exactly what you did.

You knocked on her cabin door, that heavy and weird feeling on your chest again, waiting for someone to answer. One of her brothers opened the door, looking you up and down. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, is Clarisse here?"

He nodded, but not to say that she was in fact there, he nodded like he knew exactly what you meant.

"Yeah, sure." he left the door open and started to leave the cabin, not before saying with a weird laugh: "Have fun!"

You looked at him confused, having no idea why would he even say that to you, but you decided to not think much about and just go in.

She was sitting on her bed, palm resting on one of her thighs, black nail polish in her other hand. She was painting her nails, and for some reason, that surprise you.

Sure, you've seen her wearing nail polish before, but the look on her face was a rare one, she looked so concentrated, almost peaceful, and you couldn't help but think she looked pretty like that, her curls framing her face.

"Who was it?" she didn't look up from her nails when she said that, probably thinking you were her brother.

"It was me."

You could see the smile on her face before she look up, her eyes shining when she saw you. "Hi pretty."

Ignore the nickname. Ignore the nickname.

"What did you do to him?"

"Sorry?" she got up, walking towards you now, her eyes were dark, the peaceful Clarisse you just saw disappearing.

"I saw his bruises, that was you, wasn't it?"

You didn't know why you were so mad at her, you didn't even like him, you couldn't care less about him if you were being honest, but the need to confront her about it seemed to be more strong than being reasonable.

She tilted her head, a smirk on her face.

"What if it was? Do you have a problem with that?"

"Yes, I do, actually, you shouldn't go around just beating people up."

"Oh really? Why not? He hurt someone I care about, he deserved it."

She didn't sound mad at you, she sounded amused, like she liked the fact that you were talking back.

In reality, she just liked that you were there, in her cabin, so close to her, your eyes locked on hers like you were scared that if you looked anywhere else, she might disappear. But you didn't need to know that.

"Like you care about anyone who isn't yourself, you did that just for fun. Because that's what you do!"

"And why are you so mad about that anyway, hm? You said you didn't wanna have anything to do with it, remember?" she took one more step closer to you, your faces inches apart, you felt her hand on your arm. "Do you still like him or something? Because if I remember correctly, you broke his heart, right? So why do you care so much?"

You didn't know what to say, she was right. And that pissed you off even more.

"I just- I–" You could see her smile growing at your loss of words, her hand on your arm making you even more nervous. "Fuck you, Clarisse."

The feeling in your chest got too strong, you realized how close she was to you, her pretty smile on her face. However her eyes were not on yours anymore, she was looking at your lips, breathing heavy.

Then her eyes met yours again. "Why are you here, y/n?"

"You know why." you stepped back a little, but before you could say anything else you felt her lips on yours.

And you didn't think twice before kissing her back. Her lips were soft, her hands were on your face, and yours made their way to her hips. She smiled during the kiss, making your head spin even more.

"No, wait– that's not what I came for!" you finally came to your senses again, breathing even heavier now. "I don't even like you! I could never like you! You're so... you're awful, you're an awful person!"

Before she could say something, you stormed out of her cabin. And she just stood there, not believing what had just happened.

•┈୨♡୧┈•

A few days since that afternoon had passed and you still couldn't believe that happened. She just kissed you, out of the blue, for no reason at all.

You could still feel her soft lips on yours, her hands on your face, and your heart beating fast against your chest.

But the worst part of it all, is that you liked it, and you couldn't deny it anymore. You couldn't deny your stupid crush on Clarisse. You couldn't deny that's the reason why you got so upset when she mistreated you years ago, that was the reason why you couldn't think straight when it came to her.

Yes she was mean, and a bully – most of the time, she was stubborn and impulsive, but unfortunately for you – and your stupid dumb heart, that didn't make much of a difference. You tried to convince yourself that you hated her for so many years, and yet here you are.

When reality sinked in, you felt panic, because she was the last person you wanted to have feelings for, she was the last person you'd give a chance. So you decided that you were going to repress those feelings, it didn't matter if it hurt you, you would never open your heart to her. You just couldn't.

But apparently the universe had other plans, because while you were at the beach, enjoying the sun, lost in thought, she saw you. Lucky for her, bad luck for you.

You heard her say your name, and before you could run away from her, she sat down beside you, making it impossible for you to look away.

"Where have you been? You just disappeared! Are you avoiding me or something?"

Her voice was soft, you never heard her speaking like this, almost like she was afraid you'd run away if she wasn't careful with her words.

Your stomach felt weird, your heart was beating fast again, and your hands were shaking. All because she noticed. She noticed that you were avoiding her. And for some weird reason, that made you feel special.

"Yeah, well, how did you find me?"

"I threatened one of your friends to tell me where you were." she said that like it was the most obvious think in the world, like you were dumb to even be asking her that question. "I just– I just wanted to say that I'm sorry."

You looked up from the sand, surprise evident in your face, did she just apologize to you?

"You're sorry?"

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "I'm really bad at this, I just wanted to say that, I'm sorry if I offended you by kissing you, I should've asked first, I just– I felt– I mean, I thought I felt something there but it was just all in my head and I didn't mean to–

You lost your mind, you were sure of it, because now, you were the one kissing her.

One of your hands went to the back of her neck, making her relax under your touch. Her lips moved with yours in the perfect rhythm, like it was meant to be, like you were made to do this, with her.

Her hands were on your back, bringing you closer and closer to her, as if that was possible, and you only stopped kissing when you felt the need for air. Her forehead touched yours, both of you breathing heavy.

"I thought you– I'm... confused." She leaned away a little, still holding you.

In that moment, you didn't know what to say, cause you were as confused as she was. You didn't know why you kissed her, you promised yourself you would stay away, and yet your lips were on hers the moment she got close to you.

"You said you didn't like me." her voice was still soft, but now, a little more serious, her eyes studying your face. "You said you could never like me, did I understand that wrong or what?"

You shook your head, you felt suffocated now that she was so close, asking you questions, making you rethink your terrible decisions and complicated feelings.

"You didn't understand that wrong, that's– yeah, I said that."

Your hand wasn't on her face anymore, and you were getting up. Why did she have to make you feel like this?

"Hey, you're not running away this time! Talk to me." She got up too, getting close to you again.

Her eyes felt like they were burning holes in your skin, making you avoid them. And before you could speak for yourself, try and explain, your anxiety spoke for you.

"What do you want from me, Clarisse? It was just a kiss, does a kiss have to mean anything? I wanted to kiss you, so I did, big fucking deal!"

When you got the courage to look at her again, you couldn't see the soft Clarisse anymore. She nodded her head, looking away from you, letting out a sarcastic laugh.

"You wanted to kiss me, so you did, hm?"

Her voice was cold and her eyes even colder. You nodded your head, if that would help you stay away from her, then you were going to run with it.

She didn't say anything back, she just turned around and left you alone. Not knowing that if she stayed just one more second, she would see the tears streaming down your face.

•┈୨♡୧┈•

You felt horrible, actually, if there was a stronger word for what you were feeling you'd use it, but no amount of words could really describe how you felt.

The guilt was eating you, and you couldn't stop crying, you didn't even know why you were crying in the first place; maybe it was because you realized that you actually had feelings for Clarisse, maybe it was because you were mean to her just because you were scared, or maybe you were just overwhelmed. Either way, the tears wouldn't stop scrolling.

And you did the only thing you knew would help you, you talked to your friend.

"Wait, walk me through it again... you have feelings for who?"

"Please don't make me repeat it!" your hands went to your face, too embarrassed to even think about it.

Anya let out a laugh before she grabbed your wrists, making you look at her again.

"I'm sorry! I just thought you hated her?"

"I guess the hate was just a cover up, I actually do like her a lot. Unfortunately."

"You don't think she likes you back?"

You thought about it for a moment.

You were sure she did, you were sure she liked you back, and was what made it all so scary to you. The fact that you both liked each other, the fact that she could easily hurt you, just like she did years ago, just with a few words. The fact that you could hurt her, just like you did, earlier that day.

With Jacob, it was easy, he liked you, you didn't like him. The moment you got bored and he wanted more, you ended it, and you felt bad, but you also felt safe. You were safe that way, he couldn't hurt your feelings even he tried. That was easy.

With Clarisse,wouldn't be that way, she would know exactly what to do to make you feel pain. If you let her in, she would know just what buttons to push, and that scared you more than anything.

"I just think... I just think it would hurt too much."

Anya gave you a sympathetic look, a small smile on her face. "But if you really like her, don't you think is worth it? Don't you think she's worth it?"

Once again you went to sleep thinking about her. Your mind asking you again and again, is she worth it?

•┈୨♡୧┈•

You felt low in your life a few times.

First, was when your fish died, you were only six and as weird as it sounds, it was your best friend at the time. Second time, was when your grandmother died, when you were eight, she was basically your second mom, and seeing her sick and unable to do anything about it killed you to the core. And the third time was when you found out you had to live your life behind and go to camp, when you found out that you actually had a dad, an unusual one, but you did, and you had to get used to your new life.

And now, it was definitely one of those low points.

You could feel your heart break the moment you saw them together, Clarisse and some girl that you didn't know the name. They were sitting together on the steps of the Ares cabin, Clarisse was touching the other girl's leg, whispering in her ear and making her laugh. You felt sick.

You stopped walking, unable to breathe or to move, staring at them like your life depended on it.

"Oh gods." You could hear Anya say on your right. "Maybe we should go the other way."

Before they could see you, you started walking again, feeling anger and disgust after seeing that. But then it hit you.

You told her the kiss didn't mean anything. You said you didn't like her. You told her you could never like her. You made her believe you didn't feel anything. You had no right to be angry, you had no right to be upset. You just needed to accept that she was moving on, and maybe you should try doing the same.

•┈୨♡୧┈•

A few days later capture the flag happened, as usual the blue team won, which was good, it made you forget about Clarisse for at least a few hours.

But afterwards, at the bonfire, you saw her again, with that same girl. And she looked so beautiful, it was hard to be mad at her. Her hair was down as usual, and she had a black t-shirt on, and it was so tight that made you forget how to breathe for a second.

"Tough, huh?"

You looked to your left, seeing one of her brothers standing next to you, the same one you saw the day you went to their cabin, he was looking at Clarisse as well, his face expression hard to read.

"What do you mean?"

"Seeing her with someone else."

He answered that like it was obvious, looking over at you.

That made your head spin, did she talk about you to her siblings?

"What?! No! We weren't– we never–"

"No, I get it!" he interrupted you, your rambling annoying him. "I was just betting that you would be the one."

"Wait, what?"

This whole situation was giving you a headache.

"Well, you know, in between you and her, I thought you would win, Clarisse was never really fond of her, you know?"

You blinked at him a few times, letting his words sink in. Gathering up courage to ask what was on your mind.

"You think we could work? I mean, we don't even get along." it was supposed to sound nonchalant, like you didn't mean anything by asking that, but unfortunately, he read right through you.

"Yeah, I think you could work. I wouldn't give up on it so easy if I were you."

Before you could ask him anything else, he started to leave but not before saying: "And don't worry, I won't tell her that we had this conversation."

•┈୨♡୧┈•

You could swear you never felt more nervous in your life than at that moment, you were at the door of the Ares cabin, feeling anxiety wash over you. Trying not to shake too much because of the cake in your hand.

And before you could overthink what you were doing, you knocked on the door, taking a deep breath and smoothing your shirt.

She opened the door, her eyes were as cold as you expected, she was staring at you, and then the little box you were holding, and then at you face again.

"Hi." You tried to sound normal. "Can we talk?"

She tilted her head a little to the side, a smile on her face. "I don't think so."

Why did you think it was gonna be easy?

She went to close the door, but before she could, you held it open, getting closer to her.

"Clarisse, please? I really wanna talk."

"Well, I really don't care."

But she didn't move, she didn't back away from you or tried closing the door again, she just stood there, hand on the door knob.

"I have cake!" she looked a little confused, looking at the small box you were holding again. "Orange cake, it's delicious. It's... for you."

You sounded out of breath, like you just ran a marathon.

She sighed and turned around, leaving the door open for you.

"Everybody, get out!"

Without saying anything, her siblings left, some of them giving you a glare, but most left without even looking at you.

Clarisse looked over at your direction again and gesture for you to get in.

"Nice bow."

When you turned around to look at her, she was leaning on the door, like she was ready to kick you out at any minute.

"Thank you." You said touching the bow in your hair, trying not to smile at the fact she complimented you.

She stared at you for a few seconds and rolled her eyes. "What are you doing here? Because if you're just going to stand there–"

"I came to apologize." You took one step closer to her, feeling a little bit more confident. "The way I treated you at the beach... that was horrible, I'm so sorry. You don't need to forgive me or anything but I just– I just wanted to say that I like you. And I didn't want to admit that, because, it's so scary, and you make me feel like I'm gonna die sometimes because of how fast my heart beats when you're around."

"And I was so ready to just pretend I don't feel this way, but then I saw you with that girl and, I just can't do that. Giving us a chance might hurt me in the future but not having you right now hurts just the same, and I can't take it. And I know I'm a coward and–"

"Is that orange cake you said?"

"I'm sorry?" you looked at her like she just said the most offensive thing known to man. "That's it? That's what you took from all that? I'm opening my heart to you."

She took a few steps closer to you, an infuriating smile on her face. "Yeah, I heard that part, how did you even get this cake?"

"It was one of my sisters birthday yesterday and–, you know what, it doesn't matter, don't you think you have something to say to me?"

You were so annoyed, was she dismissing everything you just said?

"Oh, like what?"

"Like... like, you like me back maybe? Maybe an apology for being so horrible to me years ago? Maybe–"

"Gods, you talk so much."

And then she kissed you. But this time, it was different. She was kissing you like she was trying to tell you everything she couldn't put into words, hoping you'd understand.

Without stopping the kiss, she took the cake out of your hands, putting it on a table behind you. Her own grabbing your waist.

You touched the back of her neck, not wanting to let go of her, trying to make this moment last for was long as you could.

When she leaned away, she had a smile on her face, a genuine one.

"Did you mean everything you just said?"

You nodded, still holding her. "More than anything."

"I'm sorry I was mean to you." You were about to kiss her again but she pulled away. "And I like you too by the way, don't know if you were able to catch that."

You shook your head and laughed a little. "No, I got that part, but thanks."

"And also, I love orange cake."

You gave her a smile before leaning in to kiss her again.

•┈୨♡୧┈•

After that, you would spend most of your free time with Clarisse, you guys would go on long walks at night, she would help you practice whenever she got the chance and you would always end up in her cabin somehow.

"Oh gods! Just stop moving!"

You couldn't stop laughing, you guys were sitting on her bed, her hand on your thigh, while you were holding her tube of black nail polish, painting her nails.

"What? Can't I kiss my girlfriend?"

She wouldn't stop moving, trying to get close to you at all cost, holding your face with her free hand, making you look at her. She had a huge smile on her face, making you smile too.

"Am I your girlfriend?"

"Of course you are."

Her voice was so soft, and her hand on your face felt comforting. Making you want to melt into her.

"Okay then." you gave her a peck on the cheek. "Will you let your girlfriend finish painting your nails?"

She laughed and laid her head on your shoulder. "Yes ma'am."

A few seconds later, she heard your vocie again.

"Clarisse?"

"Yes?"

"I could spend the rest of my life with you like this."

She didn't answer you for a few seconds, watching her nails turn black, your delicate hands doing a way better job than she ever could.

She lifted her head from your shoulder, focusing on your concentrated face. A small smile on her lips.

"Yeah, me too."

Now you hang from my lips like the gardens of Babylon. With your boots beneath my bed, forever is the sweetest con.

[the-witch-of-one-piece]

🌸Tokyo Revengers Father and Daughter Moments🌸 Ft: Taiju, Hakkai, Ran, Rindou, Draken, Kakucho, Hanma, Mikey, Mitsuya, Nahoya Masterlist / Resident: @enchantedforest-network / WC:2.6kSynposis: Random moments of TR dads with their sweet little ones. Different scenes for each one of them! this is pure fluffy goodness! (unedited) Click below!

Taiju

Slightly exhausted, his sleep was interrupted once again. It only lasted 10 minutes when his wife put the baby down after feeding. Walking into the lowly dimmed nursery he saw his newborn daughter in her crib upset. Carefully picking up the fragile newborn, in his arms, cradling them close to his chest. “There there now…” he spoke in a low tone. He made his way into the nursery  sofa. The man who once had a short fuse in his younger days is now a father of this little one. He wouldn’t admit it but he was scared of holding his child for the first time when they were born. Doubts in his mind he wouldn’t be a good enough dad but that moment when he held his child those father instincts began to kick in. He wanted to protect them with every inch of his living soul.  

The newborn was calming down little by little hearing the steady heart beat of her father. Taiju closed his eyes for a brief moment, resting his head back slightly. He took a deep breath “I know you're fighting your sleep.. It’s okay.” The newborn seemed to calm down more as he spoke. Opening his eyes looking down at the newborn against his chest. His child knew his voice, not that he would often speak to his pregnant wife's belly but his wife was around him a lot during his pregnancy and accompanied him during the opening of his restaurants. “My voice is the only thing that seems to calm you down… usually it's the opposite for others..” he smirked. Taiju repositioned himself on the couch as laid his head down against the pillow as  the baby was still against his chest. He looked down at the newborn, his thumb gently caressing the delicate cheeks. 

Hakkai

He was on his ipad in his dressing room he had about a half an hour before the show began. He promised his daughter he would facetime her before the show. He had sent her a gift and was eager to see her open it. On the other side of the screen his daughter  was opening the gift he sent to her. Leaning against the counter “I hope you like it.” Hakkai smiled

Opening the pretty rose gold box with a gold ribbon around it her eyes lit up “It’s a bunny!!” She exclaimed, holding the white fluffy stuffed  bunny in her hands then giving it a big squeeze. “Thank you daddy!” Seeing his daughter's raw reaction to the gift made his day. “Your welcome sweetie. I’m glad you like it.” 

She nodded “When are you coming home?” she asked and looked at her dad. He gave a softer smile. “Soon baby. I know daddy has been away for a while now. But soon I will be home with you and mommy.” With his  career it did interrupt his family life. He did manage to still be active in his daughters and wife's life, face timing, photos and every now and then they would join him on his trips. Still he didn’t want his daughter around the cameras and the paparazzi since she was still so young he still wanted some type of privacy in his personal life. 

Looking at the time as it seemed to fly by “I’m sorry baby but daddy has to get going. I will call you when I’m done.” A soft pout on his little one's face “okay daddy, you promise?” “Of course, daddy loves you.” “I love you too daddy”

Ran

“9…10… ready or not here I come.” Ran called out opening his eyes as he found himself observing the living room. Walking around the living room searching for his child who was hiding from him. “I’m gonna find you.” he called out. 

He couldn’t hear a giggle nor a movement. They learned from the last time they played not to respond to their fathers comments. Ran began walking down the hallway carefully listening to see if he heard any sort of movement. Ran began to check obvious places they would hide that he knew about under the beds, in the closet, even behind the curtains but nothing.

He was rather impressed that he wasn't able to find them yet. He began to question where they could be hiding. He began to search for her in more and more places he thought she would be weren’t there. Few more minutes passed and no luck.  “Oi my  little one I give up. You can come out now.” he called out.

He waited to hear for some type of movement giving some type of idea what their hiding place was and what it could be. He didn’t hear a response, he was now assuming she wanted their father to look for her. He began walking through the rooms again checking them thoroughly. 

He noticed one thing in particular, the laundry room was slightly cracked and opening the door he noticed a large basket that had a blanket he knew he put in the dryer now it was in the basket. Coming closer he noticed a bit of movement. Gently pushing the blanket down he saw his daughter in a deep slumber. The blanket was still slightly warm, Ran carefully picking her up in the blanket still. In a groggy voice as they let out a yawn “daddy you found me.” 

“I did.” letting a low chuckle out.

Rindou

Rindou squinted his eyes seeing his daughter who was in pre-k holding hands with a little boy in her class. Every dads worst nightmare when they become a father of a little princess. Holding hands with a boy. As his little princess saw her father she let go of her friend's hands and waved to him as she darted towards her father. Crouching down as he greeted his baby. Embracing him with a tight hug. After a bit of small talk Rindou placed her in the car as he began to drive home. “So who was that boy you were holding hands with?” the father questions were coming out now

“Oh he is my boyfriend!” 

Luckily he was at a stop sign and he looked at his daughter who was in the back seat. “Come again? Boyfriend?” The words boyfriend ached his poor soul. 

Hearing a car honking for him to go, his eyes went back to the road. “Yeah daddy. He is a boy and he is my friend.” Taking a calming breath he was relieved by the comment. “I see… you don’t like any boys yet right?” 

“No, they are just my friends.” she chuckled

‘Good’ he thought to himself. “You would tell daddy if you did right?” 

“Mmmmm” she thought about it for a moment before responding “No.” “What??? Why not?” “Because I don’t want you to scare them away.” 

“I wouldn’t do that to them…”  he was lying to himself of course he would. 

Draken 

“Are we doing this right now?” Still on the edge of the bed seeing the covers pulled up little fingers holding the blankets up. 

“Mhmm” with a small cough.

Letting a small sigh out as he  placed the small cup of medicine down on the nightstand. “You know you need to take it.”

“It’s gross….” Lowering the blankets down to see the red cheeks of his kiddo. 

“I know it is, But the quicker you take this the quicker you will feel better.” 

The tiny child sat up in her bed seeing Draken reach for the small cup of medicine handing it to them. She looked at the cup of medicine scrunching their nose before taking the medicine. 

“See, it isn't that bad.” rubbing her head.

As she laid back on the scooting the covers up more. “I’m sorry you had to miss work today…”  

Giving a small smile, “It's fine I wanted to make sure you were going to be okay. Your my top priority everything else is second” A small smile on her lip appeared. “Get some rest, I will check on you in a little bit, okay?”

Throughout the day Draken checked on her. Checking her forehead to see how the temperature was going down each time he checked on them. He was relieved each time going in, still as a parent he did worry about his little one getting sick. They weren’t their happy go lucky self he is so used to seeing. As she were still asleep he checked on the one more time his hand lightly touching her forehead the fever seemed to be gone. He leaned down pressing his lips on their forehead.

Kakucho 

A storm was passing through Tokyo. The sounds of thunder and lightning echoed in the quiet room. Walking up front her she could hear the rain and whistling from the wind. She looked around and her night light was on. The sudden lightning and thunder once again prompt the little one to rush to her fathers room. Opening the large door she crept to the side where her father was sleeping. She nudged her dad gently and whispering “daddy” 

Kakucho, feeling the small push, opened his eyes to see his daughter in front of him. “Baby why are you out of bed?” speaking in a groggy tone

“The loud noises outside.” She looked towards the window and then at her father.

“Do you wanna sleep with me and mommy?” He asked.

Nodding at her dad's question he scooted on the bed as she climbed in. “You don’t have to worry about anything sweetheart, daddy is here to protect you.” 

Another  struck from thunder and lightning his daughter snuggled into him more. Kakuchou’s arms holding his little girl making sure she felt protected. “I got cha.” He spoke in a soothing voice stroking his daughter's hair. He wasn’t going to sleep until he knew his little girl was okay. Kakucho watched as his daughter was becoming more tired. The sound of the rain was all they both could hear.

Hanma 

“Can I name him?” his daughter spoke as she held the tiny small black kitten. The walk from the convenience store just for snacks ended up being snacks and small kitten they found on their way back. 

“I was thinking Cujo, he looks dangerous.” He looked at the kitten who didn’t want to come to him, only his daughter.

“No! He is not a rabid dog! He is so cute!” she laughed, petting the kitten in her arms. “Figaro! 

He looked at the kitten who seemed to resemble the kitten from the movie she watched. With his free hand he scratched behind the kitten ears making the kitten let a little meow out. “Ferocious Figaro.”

“Do you think mommy will be okay with us keeping a kitty?” asking as they were approaching the home.

“We will see we were only supposed to get snacks. We came back with the snacks, kitten and food for the little terrorizer. I mean Figaro.” he was getting his keys out of his pocket. “Don’t worry mommy will be fine with the kitty, let me sweet talk her.” “Yeah! Tell her she is pretty and she is the best mommy!”

‘Among other things to convince her,’ he thought to himself. “That will work.” flashing a smile at his daughter as he opens the door. “Hey babe we’re back, we got the snacks and a kitten~!”

Mikey

“How do they make it look so easy there?” Mikey looked at the screen and the ingredients as he thought he measured correctly. He looked at the cookies they were supposed to be nice and pretty just like one the video he was watching. Instead he got flat cookies that resemble crepes. 

His daughter looked around the countertop that was messy and behind the mixing bowl and she saw another cup of flour. “Daddy, we forgot the other cup of flour.”

He turned his head towards his daughter, seeing the other measuring cup of flour as she was bringing it close from behind the mixing bowl. “That could have been the reason the batter was a bit runny…” Mikey scratches the back of his head. 

“It’s okay daddy, we tried our best.” giving her father a chipper smile.

Mikey looked down smiling at the child who had flour covered on her. “Let's try again and make sure we add that cup of flour.”

“Okay!” 

After the final attempt both of them were looking through the glass window of the stove seeing the cookies rise. “We did it princess.” “I bet they are going to taste yummy daddy! I want that one.” pointing to one of the corner cookies. “Next time we can make taiyaki daddy!”

Feeling a bit more confident in his baking skill “Why not right now?” Mikey couldn’t pass up making his own Taiyaki. He wanted to enjoy every moment of his vacation with his little one as much as possible before he returned to racing. 

Mitsuya

From the moment his daughter was born they had a strong bond. Mitsuya doted over his daughter any chance he got. Getting home he had a routine the moment his daughter's eyes landed on him he automatically picked her up. Today he had his hands full of items. Opening the door he saw the pretty bright wide lavender eyes of his daughter looking at his directions. The coo’s and excitement was all on her face as she sat on her mothers lap. “My little jellybean.” he smiled “Let daddy put this up really quick.” leaning down kissing the top of her forehead. 

Mitsuya shuffled to his office, placing the fabrics and sketch pads down. The moment his daughter lost sight of her father. Her eyes began to tear up wondering why he didn't pick her like he usually does. He could hear his daughter crying from the other room. Walking back to the living room he saw the little stream of tears from his daughter's cheeks. His daughter reached for her daddy as he picked her up. “I’m right here.” he slightly chuckled, “Jellybean daddy is right here.” 

Moments as she was in her father's arms the tears stopped and a smile peered on her cheek. He did get a kick out of it, how just picking her up in a matter of seconds made a difference. Confirming he was the favorite parent of his daughter. He wiped her eyes then placed a kiss on her temple. “This is a definite confirmation that I'm her favorite human.” flashing a smile as he looked at his wife who playfully rolled her eyes.

Nahoya

“Is it yummy?” Nahoya rested his elbows on the table as he watched his daughter eat her ramen. 

“Mmhmm!!” she was slurping the noodles. 

Few things he loved doing was watching his daughter eat. The expressions she would make as she ate made the food look 100 times better than someone else eating it. The way she did a little dance in her chair as she continued to eat. This was a sign the food was extra good.  Nahoya’s daughter was also his biggest critique too if something was missing she would point it out.

“Papa did you want some?” she asked, looking at her dad as she grasped more noodles with her chopsticks.  

“I’m okay. You eat.” he slightly chuckled 

She held the chopsticks closer to her father “papa have some please!” At that point he couldn’t say no anymore, leaning in as he ate the noodles from the chopstick. “It’s yummy!” 

Swallowing the noodles “It is. Now here is the biggest questions: whose Ramen is better, mine or Uncle Angry’s?” 

Angry was listening to the conversation he was behind his brother. He made eye contact with his niece. To slightly tease his brother a bit he lifted a bag a gummy bears up and pointed to himself. 

“Ummmm sorry daddy it’s Uncle Angry.” 

“What?!” He stood up from his chair. Angry, placing the gummy bears in his pocket. Smiley was now determined to challenge his brother to a Ramen battle.

 In a split second Angry walked to his niece, of course he loved his brother but him and his niece were pretty tight. Handing her the bag of gummy bears. “Atta girl.” 

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[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️ Ranking Richonne

#7: How'd I Get So Lucky Finding You (S9E01)

Imagine feeling lucky in a fallen world. 🥹 Losing so much and still feeling like you won because you found the ultimate love of your life. 😭 It’s beautiful and powerful that Richonne’s love is so strong that it has them feeling fortunate even after enduring a series of unfortunate events. And in this stunning scene, we get to see so much of why Rick and Michonne have an everlasting love. This scene is an absolutely heartwarming delight and it features my favorite thing Rick has ever said to Michonne in TWD 😍...

I will forever love the state of Richonne’s relationship in s9. They finally had time to breathe and be a family with Judith, and I loved every moment they got to relish in being together.

I always knew Rick and Michonne wouldn't be the type of couple who were only compatible in fight and survival mode - they're equally compatible in just living and being mode. 

So I appreciate that this scene takes its time to just be as the two cuddle up and showcase yet again why they work so perfectly with each other. They truly belong together and fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. 🥰

Also, I will always like that this scene of Richonne snuggled up in bed takes place in the Sanctuary of all places. Just more proof that nothing, not even the oppressive reign of Negan, was going to break Richonne because now Rick and Michonne are up in that batty man's crib fully immersed in their sweet Richonne bubble. 🤗

They just feel so married with Rick washing up and then getting in bed with Michonne as the two just instinctively get wrapped up in each other. And the way Rick kisses her forehead. 🥹 It’s always so clear that they feel the most safe to completely decompress and let their guard down with each other and are so precious to each other.

And I’m just giddy every time I hear Michonne adorably and playfully call Rick “the famous Rick Grimes” with that shoulder shimmy while resting on his chest. Perfection. 👌🏽

I love their teasing banter and how she’s addressing the way Rick's a legend to the people. As he should be. And Rick’s playful, "don’t you start too" response to hearing her say that is just great. 😊

It’s adorable that she plays with his beard while noting that the reverence people have for him is sweet. She gets it. She says, “just don’t let it get to your head” and Richonne tones for the win once again in this scene. 😍

And again the two bring up Maggie and how they feel for her since she has to deal with losing that Hilltop kid, which is particularly sad too because R&M lost their own teenage son just about a year and a half ago.

Rick and Michonne then have this moment where they both just take a synchronized deep breath and these two seriously always feel like one, especially in the way they breathe in this moment. 

I like how Rick seems tired as he closes his eyes, but then Michonne says his name, and he can always be awake and alert for her when they need to talk.

I really like too how Michonne and Rick both get honest about the fact that they wonder if they should have just killed Negan. To which I was like, yes...

But I appreciate that Michonne says "we" when talking about this choice because she and Rick are a package deal. Saving Negan without consulting the others was Rick’s most controversial move among tf, and it clearly had some tf members feeling understandably upset. But it’s nice that, by saying "we," Michonne doesn’t make Rick feel like he was alone in that choice.

Rick thinks the Saviors just want food, not Negan back in charge, and Michonne reminds him they don’t know that for sure, which is valid, and it’s great they can communicate like this.

And then I love that Michonne lets him know she’s been thinking about an agreement between the communities and that she maps out the idea with her hand over his heart. Their closeness really is unparalleled.

Also the way Rick is looking at his wife throughout this scene is um...it's gold and damn near made me lose my train of thought so let me get myself back on track lol.

I love that Rick affirms Michonne's idea, telling her it’s good and smart, and how he looks right at her while saying it could bring people closer together. And the way Michonne touches him. I love that they really don’t take their hands off each other for pretty much the entire scene. 😊

And then Rick opens up and lets her know what's on his mind as he shares that Daryl isn’t happy, and it makes him worried about things breaking down. Scenes like this are why I believe Michonne is not just Rick's wife but truly his best friend. They always can confide in each other and express everything going on inside - their hopes, ideas, worries, and fears.

It’s sweet that Michonne acknowledges the validity of what Daryl feels. And Rick groans a bit and says Daryl cares too much sometimes. I appreciate that Michonne can sense Rick's headspace so clearly here and doesn’t want a divide to be caused between those two brothers (even tho it ends up being a bit too late sadly).

The way Michonne whispers 'hey' and then gently turns Rick's face towards her, it’s like a visible illustration of how she centers him and reminds him to stay focused on the good and how to move things forward. And of course, Rick is receptive to this redirection as he looks into her eyes. Love it. 😊

Michonne acknowledges that if Daryl is worried then there’s a reason. And again, because R&M are a package deal, she asks, "What do we do about it?" knowing however they handle it, it will be together. 

And then, like a well-oiled machine, Rick says he thinks they need to fix that bridge, and Michonne says she'll get the people to agree to a charter. Look at these leaders making big community decisions all while snuggling in bed together. 🥰

So then it’s Rick’s turn to do some teasing when he asks if it’ll be a "charter or constitution?" Again, I love how lines like these show Rick and Michonne know each other's humor as Michonne amusedly confirms it'll be a charter. And it's just sweet too cuz, while they're playing around, I'm sure Rick fully believes Michonne would be capable of drafting up a whole effective constitution for the new world lol.

Their synchronized smiles at this moment are seriously the best. 🙌🏽And then Rick kissing her three times is even better. The way Michonne smiles at him. The way he always has to come back for more. I live.😍

And I just absolutely love getting to see Rick and Michonne in such a relaxed happy state. Scenes like this make it so clear why Rick and Michonne haven't moved on from each other after all those years apart. You don't move on from a love like this.

Richonne gives each other joy like no other and this whole exchange shows how they work so effortlessly together as leaders and lovers. What a pair. 🤩 As Andy said, they truly are perfect partners in this imperfect world.

Plus it’s just always so sweet that two of the strongest, fiercest, most intimidating warriors in the world find each other so cute and cuddly. 😋

Y'all, Richonne + cars is a thing, and also Richonne + candle-lit scenes too, because they are always A1.

...But then the candles get blown out, and this scene proceeds to reach its peak of perfection. 🤩

As someone who loves a lengthy Richonne scene, I remember first watching this ep live and being so happy that they weren’t cutting away from them once the lights went out. I had no idea it was because we were in for something so heavenly. 😇

Cuz they turn off the lights and then immediately wrap their arms around each other again to go to sleep and it’s always so sweet seeing Rick softly touch her hair. All the little gestures just feel like this person in their arms is their treasure who has their whole heart. #ILoveEveryRichonneDetail

Then....y'all then Rick opens his eyes to utter the greatest thing he's ever said to Michonne thus far - “How’d I get so lucky finding you?”

BEAUTIFUL. Powerful, meaningful, romantic, fitting, perfect. I could go on. 👩🏽‍🍳💋

I love the delivery of the line because it really feels like it’s this reoccurring thought for Rick that, at this moment, his mind was thinking and just had to utter out loud.

It's fitting he’d say this after the convo they just had because it really did capture why Michonne is so perfect for him, and I love that he knows it and vocalizes it. Michonne is a genuinely phenomenal individual, so it makes perfect sense that Rick feels not just happy but lucky to have her.

And just to think about their journey and know that we’d arrive at a point where Rick reflects on when he met Michonne and feels so personally lucky to have found her. 😭 She’s his soulmate, and he knows it wholeheartedly. 

And I love that beyond literally finding each other, there’s something deep about the way Rick and Michonne found each other in their truest form. They saw each other in a deeper way and brought each other back from the lost state they were in. 

Also, I always think it’s sweet how Rick said this with zero other motives - this was just his abundant love for her pouring out. I’m so grateful that in Rick's final season, they didn’t give him and Michonne any tiffs or division, but rather showed that they have only grown closer and more in love since the last season. 

Like after one of the series' longest time jumps, I adore that we return to a Rick and Michonne who have clearly spent the last year and a half strengthening their bond even more, and healing, and fully enjoying their life together. They are really and truly an unbreakable unit who only fall more in love the more time they spend together.

When I think about all Rick and Michonne have been through together and all they’ve built, it’s just the absolute greatest thing to know Rick thinks about his life and feels so sincerely lucky that he found Michonne. We knew that the day they found each other at the prison fence was life-changing, and it's great to see them two know it too.

If you were to tell Season One Rick that he was going to eventually lose his son, Carl, but would still have family that made him feel like a lucky man, he'd probably think you were crazy. And yet, this is the power of Richonne. The family found between Rick and Michonne runs so deep and is so authentic that, even after the most painful loss imaginable, Rick knows he still has so much to live for because he has Michonne and Judith.

Then it’s so sweet that Michonne hears Rick say this heart-bursting line and takes his hand because she feels the same way, and is likely thinking that's the...

#DirectQuoteFromHerMind you already know. 😋

And then Michonne softly tells Rick, "We both lost enough, it’s time we won a little don’t you think?" My heart. 😭 This moment is everything.

And y’all, I had gone back and re-read one of my old Richonne in Retrospect posts from several years ago where I reflected on a s6 scene between Michonne and David, that Alexandrian who got bit in 6.03. In that 6.03 scene, David talks to Michonne about his love story which completely and intentionally mirrors Michonne's own love story with Rick. And in that old post, I wrote this: 

"Rick and Michonne finding each other in all this is really one of the best things that happened to them. And in this type of world people take a whole lot of L’s so it’s cool that they were actually able to find such a big win in finding each other…and if R&M ever verbally imply a similar sentiment to each other about how finding each other in all this was everything, this will literally be me…"

So the fact that over a year after I wrote that, Rick and Michonne express exactly this...😭🙌🏾😭 It is the best ever. And just as I predicted, that gif above was and still is me whenever I watch this scene. It is just so powerful for Rick and Michonne to feel like amid all their loss, they still won big time by finding each other and falling in love. 

And then Michonne so lovingly kisses his hand, and Rick is perfectly content with that exchange as he shuts his eyes. But then, once again, the gift that keeps on giving gives us even more. 🤩

Cuz Michonne turns to look at him and then Rick...y’all, I’ll never get over how he looks at her right here. Like he looks right at Michonne with a breathtaking look that says, “I’m wholly and completely yours” and so clearly shows that she seriously means everything to him.

(also! y'all, I wrote this whole post before that V-day trailer, and so the fact that we've now got to hear Rick directly say, "I am yours," before the show even officially premieres 😍😍😍 my goodness TOWL is just blessings on blessings)

So then they kiss and it wonderfully ramps up with Michonne getting on top of him and reiterating "the famous Rick Grimes." 😏

…except this time, i think sis means he’s famous for reasons only she knows about. and that’s their business. 😋

As Danai has noted before, Rick knows how to make Michonne vulnerable, and Michonne knows how to make Rick laugh, which is just sublime.

And the way Rick laughs at the close of this scene - you know that if there’s one person he likes being "the famous Rick Grimes" to it’s Mrs. Grimes. 😊

Y’all, this whole scene blessed us ten times over. Our ship has it all. And we really do get whatever we want lol. 💅🏽

(Side note: it's also important to note that we don't just get whatever we want as some sort of forced fan service from the show. (Considering Gimple was planting Richonne seeds before viewers had even seen the two on screen together, that fan-service take simply can't be true). The real reason we get what we want is because the very love story we want to see is also the very love story the show wanted to organically craft. These TWD writers, actors, producers, network/production companies etc, fully recognize Rick and Michonne's relationship as a special marriage with crazy love between two tethered soulmates, and we're just in agreement and alignment with that. And I feel fortunate that the canon story being told is as beautiful, romantic, and authentic as we wanted and knew it would be)

I’m so grateful for this tender scene and that these actors are so capable of playing every shade of Richonne perfectly. Like we got serious, playful, romantic, steamy, and utterly heartfelt all in this one scene. 🙌🏾

And while Rick has expressed feeling so lucky to have Michonne in the way he looks at her for many seasons, it was wonderful to hear him also outright verbalize that in finding her he found a true reward. He doesn’t take her for granted, and Michonne doesn’t either, knowing that he is her win in all this too. 

This moment is also beautiful because Rick and Michonne are two selfless individuals who have been put through the wringer on their individual and shared journeys yet still remained dedicated to giving their all to protect their people - And then the universe sent them each other and said ♡ you deserve to be taken care of too, ♡ you deserve to be held too, ♡ you deserve a gift that's just for you too. ♡ oh and also the gift that we're sending you is...

Rick and Michonne are each other's blessing. This scene solidified that beautifully.

They won because of each other, and we won with special scenes like this that contribute so much to Richonne’s perfect love story. 😌

[scribble-dribble-writes]

MIGUEL X READER. SWEATY CAR SCENE.

please and thank u 🥹🫶🏻

THIS SCRATCHED MY BRAIN AND IS PROBABLY MY FAV TROPE 😩😩😩

Also hope it's ok that I mixed in a little bit of The Batman aesthetic.

Here you go I hope you like it!

GOLD RUSH

Warnings: kissing, lots of kissing

Word count: 1400

“What’s gotten into you?”, you asked as you trailed behind him. His hand wound firmly around your wrist as he led you away from the party.

“Nothing.” he mumbled but in the years you had known him, you knew that he was upset.

“Don’t lie to me.”, you told him, to which he spun you around as he pulled you in.

That when you stopped, you were facing him enclosed within his arms with you back resting on the car door.

“Well you’ve been lying to me for years.”, he held you in his gaze and all you could focus on was the slight manner in which his tie was askew and how the top button on his shirt was tempting you to set it free.

“Have I?”, you taunted him, wanting to get out of his hold because you knew where you were placed in his life.

You were his friend, his confidant, the one who cleaned up his messes and the one that was invisible. To love him meant, he never noticed you.

“How could you do this to me?”, he asked looking more distraught than usual, his eyes dosing your heart in gasoline.

“Do what to you?”, you grew tense. This game had to stop. You had said nothing wrong.

“Saying you loved me in that speech you dedicated to the company.”, he leaned closer.

“Everyone loves you, Miguel. So why is it a bother now just because I said it too.”, you shrugged your shoulders, the anger getting your words to have an edge to them.

Was it wrong that you said it?

Was it wrong that you meant it?

You bit back what you wanted to add and turned away but the distressed expression on his face pushed you over the edge.

“Besides it’s nothing new. All the women you take home every night would have let it slip the moment they saw you.”, you said, with what courage you did not know but you had had enough.

“Get in the car.”, he ordered to which you narrowed your eyes at him.

“I’ll drop you home.”, he softened and the sweet tone of his voice had a way of working it’s way into your mind, like it was magic.

But you knew how to resist it. You tilted his chin to his right, to get his gaze to focus on a woman that was about to approach him.

“Looks like she’s more your type.”, you leaned closer to whisper into his ear in an attempt to escape from him. Being around him had begun to be more painful that you realized.

But he grumbled, pulling his chin away from your hold to set his eyes back on you. He took a hold of your hand again as he instructed LYLA to start the car.

He held open the door for you, his actions dissuading the woman who was approaching him and now you were at odds. Because for so long you had wanted this, his attention and now you were unsure.

Where you just another accolade on his wall?

But your years of friendship meant you trusted him, and he trusted you, crossing over some of the most unspeakable losses in each other’s lives, you sighed and got in.

His black SUV was the most luxurious vehicle you had ever gotten into, sleek metal lining and black leather seats with the aroma of spiced coffee swirling around you. It felt like him. And that wasn’t doing you any good.

He closed the door after him and his AI began to set the car in motion. There was no one else except for you and him. A few minutes had passed before he spoke to you again.

“Did you mean it?”, he asked, his voice loaded with a vulnerability he only displayed around you.

“Like the way your mistresses say it?”, you asked before you could hold it back. It lashed out from within you and it was too late for damage control.

“Stop.”, he said slowly, the edge of his pinky finger touching yours.

“I’ve never taken them home.”, he admitted and it broke the illusion you were in.

“What do you mean?”, you asked, turing to see him, jealous that even the streetlights cast him in a beautiful haze.

“They get drunk, I drop them home. I stay the night and get the paparazzi to catch me in an awkward moment. But nothing happens. I spend the night watching your favorite movies, it's like I'm spending them with you instead.”, he spoke but his gaze was away from you, because if he had looked at you, he could have registered the look on your face.

“Why do you do it then?”, you questioned, now intrigued and hoping all the same time.

“To maintain a reputation that gives me an advantage to separate the vigilante identity I hold at night.”, he explained. You were the only one he had bestowed his beloved secret to.

You settled further into the seat, taking in this new information but he still hadn’t settled yet. He ran his fingers through his hair almost like he was restless.

“Did you mean it?”, he asked again and you were sure the answer was going to spill out of you.

“Miguel.”, you began to swallow that feeling that had begun to drill it's way into your heart again.

“Put me out of this misery.”, he turned to you, frantic as he pulled away his tie, he was unravelling and you didn’t know why.

“What do you want me to say? Everybody wants you, Miguel –

“But I want you.”, he cut you off impatiently.

“You’re the one I love.”, he said it with a passion that flooded into his eyes.

“It’s torturous, to see you and not be close. To hold you but never be yours. To love you and have you push me away.”, he argued and your brain has short-circuited. Some how as he put forth his statement you wanted to hold your own.

“But you never see me. All this while I’ve been here and all you’ve done is keep me at arm's length.”, you spoke back.

“Because I didn’t want to break what we had.”, his voice got louder.

“You couldn’t face your fears.”, you got closer.

“Well you should have spoken about it sooner.”, he got closer.

“Argh you are so –

“Why do you –

But then there was silence, because his hands were in your hair, his lips were on yours. You held your breath and he pulled you in closer as you pulled away in surprise, to witness the shock that changed into delight in his eyes. But after a pause,

His hands were on your thighs pulling you onto his lap, your hands were fumbling with the buttons as his lips worked their magic on your skin and kissed you everywhere he wished, his finger trailing up to slide away the straps of your dress to kiss your bare shoulder as you felt satisfaction sore through you once the first few of his buttons were undone, letting you trace your palm over his chest to feel the beat of his heart, to then slide it up his strong neck to find the ends of his hair.

His nose tucked under your ear to inhale in your perfume and the cold air inside the car had vanished to replace it with a warmth that made it feel like the sauna. Your fingers stuck onto the leather as did your knees, making you feel like you and him were metals, now bonding together. Fusing well in all the right places. His whispers in Spanish, his lips finding new places you would now hold his touch forever in, his hand slipped up to brace your neck as he found your lips again, to part your lips with his tongue to dig deeper, to move in a sync as though he had known you for ages and you met his pace. You were his equal, and he knew that well in how you dealt with business but here, he was certain you carried a part of his soul.

He slid to the side to lie down, stretching his legs a bit as you pulled shirt free from where had he tucked it in. Your hair was no longer in a bun, your dress was crumpled and his shirt had lost a few buttons, but you laid your head on his panting chest listening to the joy in his voice as he said this was beyond anything he had dreamt. It was. You could never have had made this up.

With new confidence, you rose slowly, tilting his chin to catch his gaze.

Because he wanted you.

He wanted you.

You bent to kiss him again and you were sure this was the start to many more.

[cyanide-sippy-cup]

Finally watched Caped Crusader and I have ✨thoughts✨.

Oswalda is straight up iconic. Loved every scene with her. I actually laughed out loud when the dude goes "Thorne got you to kill the wrong son?" and she responds "Not that!" I'd let her lock me in a suitcase and throw me in the sea. She gets a gold star ⭐

I like that we get to see Selina's origin. I like the classic suit. That's kinda it though. A bit sad that Bruce didn't feel any connection with her. Just not a huge fan of her character here. She doesn't feel like Selina (a problem most of this show faces tbh).

I was loving the Harley stuff. The bit with Renee was so cute, and I love that she really was passionate about helping Bruce move past his trauma. I really like that she's Barbara's friend. Was really upset at the fakeout death but at least she was just joshin. The villain stuff felt like fetishes which like okay. I guess Bruce needed to put in something to replace BruceBabs. Anyway, that's the final dig towards him. As much as this Harley episode wasn't my favorite, a promise is a promise. Although I do gotta ask, WHY CAN'T RENEE CATCH A BREAK IN HER LOVE LIFE >:(((

No fucking way the moral of episode 7 was "the system is totally not screwed, it's just a few bad apples and also a criminal is a criminal and should be jailed". Barbara literally says the system sucks cause the cops can do what they want and get in anyone's pockets and then nearly gets killed by a cop and then they end it with "actually, I think you do"?! I mean yeah that specific guy deserved prison but ending it on that note of Barbara feeling betrayed and confused on her morals tells a very not-so-delightful message. Glad the show backtracks on all that immediately but it's still weird and definitely could've used some revising to fit in with the rest.

Onomatopeia was awesome though. I remember people claiming his shtick couldn't work when he appeared in Superman and Lois. They said that it only worked in comics and would be too silly out loud. Happy to report that they're wrong.

I feel like I'm the only one who was excited to see Waylon but that's okay cause I got enough excitement for everyone. Love to see my mans kicking the shit out of potential perverts. You go, Waylon!

Dick, Jason, Steph, and Carrie. Definitely an interesting combination. But it's also so nice to see a Jason who grew up in a different environment and is therefore adorable with no rage in his heart. As opposed to Carrie who was ready to kick some ass. The ending to episode 8 really understood Batman, what with him saying he can't leave her there, carrying her and shielding her under the cape, and then asking about her later.

The Harvey bit is kinda cool but 1, I've always been iffy on the shotty DID stuff and 2, I think they coulda gone further. Just watch The Long Halloween for a better Two Face plot.

I like Harvey helping that guy get his stuffed animal back. That was a nice small character moment. If we had more stuff like that and Bruce being unable to confess his emotions to Alfred, I think this whole thing would be better. This one made up for episode 7's little message by having Barbara tell Harvey that it's not so cut and dry and that he deserves help too. I'm glad they went back to that after the whole "sometimes things are black and white" bit. Batman is about helping people just as much as Superman is and I feel like sending a message that "nope, bad is bad and he should just punch people" doesn't fit the entire thesis of Batman.

This finale really encapsulates how this show doesn't quite understand the character of Batman. It may be comic-accurate for him to be an asshole and put on the voice randomly, treat Alfred like crap, and randomly break character with stuff like "don't start growing a conscience now, Dent" but as I said it goes against the whole thesis. This is more along the lines of the Nolan films with the "Bruce Wayne is the mask" bit. And we all know how I feel about those films.

And then it ends on a boring cliffhanger with the boss guy and then a shitty Joker teaser. Boo.

In short, this show is good but it's not anything special. I do really like the classic Batman aesthetic, but that's pretty much it. It doesn't really understand the characters like MAWS and WFA, the overarching plot is kind of uninteresting and it doesn't feel like we're building up to something great. I feel like this show really wanted to use the episodic style to take a look at all these different elements of Gotham's world with references to existing characters and aspects. But whereas MAWS smoothly slid those into its narrative and setting, this just kinda feels like a villain of the week show instead of working towards this grand narrative. And that can be a good thing, I mean I'm a Scooby Doo fan for crying out loud, but in this scenario, it just doesn't work that exceptionally. If it gets a season 2, I'll probably watch it. But this isn't something I'd be excitedly waiting to see new episodes of.

[ourolite2]

ᨳິ petites idées!　　nsfw, smut. xiao + wanderer.　what kind of bottom they would be?! *round of applause* themes — hinted dacryphilia, overstimulation, god complexes, edging, you name it! with other honorable mentions such as m!oral receiving, praise kicks, breeding kinks, blindfolding- oh, and cowgirl. ༄

❀ “You speak of my approval with such ease, it is no easy feat to make me approve such lecherous ideas.” — Says the cross-armed, baleful-eyed yaksha.

❀ “It is when you’re HIM!” — Retorts the smug-faced gn!adventurer who lacks every meaning of self-preservation.

✿ No because you felt like THEE shit when you managed to convince him to bottom for you simply because his confirmation evinced that he trusts you greatly. You’re also quite sure he understands the vulnerability of his position, hence his hesitation even towards your reassurance and lighthearted jokes. Anyway, I’m sure he’s a demanding yet pleasing bottom. Not an ounce of kinkiness or brattiness radiates from his sweet self. His primary focus is to please you, after all.

✿ He’d do anything to give and receive said pleasure, though when he’s on the receiving end, he’s more demanding simply because he knows what he wants. Surely he’s still somewhat timid when it comes down to it, but not enough to disclose discomfort. Though, you almost never cause enough discomfort for him to relent completely. Surely he’s still somewhat timid when it comes down to it, but not enough to disclose discomfort. Though, you almost never cause enough discomfort for him to relent completely.

✿ But the downside to such PARADISE is him tending to lose focus when he’s too stimulated, so without proper communication you’re likely to get harmed during the process. Such as him biting your shoulder to the point where you’re dripping with blood, for example. Hence he’s a runner not because he’s overstimulated, but worried for your safety.

✿ LIKE OKAY LET ME COOK RQ ITS OKAY JUST LISTEN—

꒰꒰　　“[Y/n], why aren’t you speaking?”

𝒲hile gyrating his pearly-white hips to define impatience, the bleary-eyed adeptus questioned the one between his thighs who was unsuccessfully managing to retain a smile on his face. His baltic gold eyes were lowered with intemperance as if the concept of composure has yet to fill his mind. Though of course, considering the titillating scene below him, an innate look of intimidation is the last thing he could perform at the moment, for his cheeks suffused with crimson once your lips enriched his rubified tip with an amorous smooch.

Conflicted, since your immortal lover twitched rhythmically in your palm as if he isn’t upset over something minor, you stared up at him as you seasoned kisses along the viridian designs that journeyed from his faultless abs to his soppy tip. His expression softened sequentially once you’ve acknowledged that you forgot something during your travels, which was to fetch a kiss from the agitated yaksha’s lips below you, earning a waspish whine from him. Confused, you did just that, and while speaking “Alatian” has its perks, you do wish sometimes he would just speak his mind at times.

“Would you like for me to talk to you, Alatus?” You asked him against his departing lips, which were faminished and quivering for more than just a meaningless peck. Shamelessly, he nodded, his arousal unbridled much like his leather-gloved hands that found solace within your thighs. He gripped them with imprudence, his fingertips excavating into your skin to the point where you moaned at the seething sensation. You tittered at his display of desperation with another one of those teasing pecks he learned to loathe, but he wouldn’t dare make his move. Not in the volatile state he was in. Not yet at least.

“Okay, my love. I’ll talk you through it. Just lay down and relax, and everything will be alright.”

Your promising tone was the personification of qingxins. It even sparked the coldest stare to convert into a dewy-eyed state, his dick throbbing relentlessly without a lick of consideration for his depleting composure. Once you lowered yourself back towards the issue, your siren-like glare fixated on him, and if your mouth wasn’t enough to have him clenching the life out of the silky duvets, your voice certainly did the trick. Despite being capable of maintaining eye contact, his head gradually tilted backwards, trotted by a shaky moan eluding his lips.

“I… Hah… Hah…” He panted brainlessly as your mouth enveloped around his aching shaft, roughly and greedily sucking him as your head bobbed at a reasonable pace. Although you believed that he was going to last a little longer, the excessive twitching down your throat begged to differ. Alatus’s forearm was concealing his line of sight as his hips uncharacteristically thrusts inside of your mouth in order to amplify the whirling pleasure. A muffed gag rumbled beneath your throat in response, though your warning was needless to the needy thing, for he only groaned ecstatically when the vibrations blessed his slobber-coated dick. Times like this, it’s practically an obligation to relent. Even though you’re alright with the idea of him obliterating your vocal chords, he tends to get a little too animalistic at times.

His dick slid from off your drooling tongue with a heavy breath, though the metallic connection between his tip and your mouth was inseparable; he needed to be in your mouth, desired to hear how you’d sound after he fucked your throat with such potency. Instinctively, with a low whimper to correspond with his impulses, he shoved himself back in your mouth, causing you to gag louder than before. You pulled back innately in order to let out a strained cough, but you still possessed the consciousness to continue stimulating him by wrapping your supple fingers around his drenched length. Alatus’s teary eyes widened apologetically once he processed his actions, but bestowing a raspy chuckle in response to his desperation made his worries dissipate within milliseconds.

“N-Not yet… not yet… Need.. more?”

He immediately begged without a breath in his lungs, but that was expected with the way he was panting as if someone was asphyxiating him. His look was still flushed with apologies that his arousal refused to verbalize (expect him to latch onto you apologizing once you two finish, however). It would be intrusive to force him to dwell in such an agonizing state, though the way his tears brightened his amber-blessed eyes only made you squirm even more in anticipation. It was a difficult choice, whether to make him cum now or see how long it would take for him to finally break.

Such a poor thing, please treat him accordingly, would you?　　꒱꒱

❀ “Huh… and what makes someone like you so worthy of that?” — Asserts the haughty, anthropologic doll.

❀ “Well, what do I need to do to deserve all of you?” — The hispanic!male adventurer replies with a similarly haughty appearance.

✿ You’d need an unreasonable amount of self-control to deal with him. I’m sure we’re all aware that he also fits in the switch category, and I’d also like to believe that he’s definitely a degrading, punishing top who would probably make you beg to cum only for him to refuse each time. Him bottoming didn’t change his personality much as well, because now he’s a power bottom brat who doesn’t understand when or how to be quiet. The most you could do is practice the term “patience”.

✿ Oddly, despite his disrespectful antics, he adores praise, just like any other individual with narcissistic tendencies. Adulation is something any God should bask in, yes? Instead of punishing him for his mouth, which takes longer to rectify, you should keep a kind smile and claim that his pretty face is better when drenched with tears. Now this nigga sobbing with each chance he gets, ordering you to compliment him.

✿ I also like to believe that Wanderer knows many variations of Spanish… iykyk. His Shouki no Kami was probably inspired by Latin American folklore and history. Y’all know them damn them Incas was unnecessarily strong. In order to study it, he needed to explore the languages first.

✿ Man, just let me cook- LET ME COOK, PLEASE.

꒰꒰　　𝓑illowing smoke of the burning Kalpalata lotus aromatized the bleak vicinity to help catalyze the whirling arousal in your abdomen in order to free yourself from exasperation, though even a sex-inducing flower wasn’t enough to reach a singular orgasm considering your doll’s intentions. Your senses were reliant on touch and smell, from remnants of padisarahs and plastic wafting in your face since Kuni’s hat was disrupting your line of vision, to your dick being swallowed effortlessly by the failed deity, who was also grunting waspishly because of such. Really, it was forbidden to even consider anything but him during such a pious session. How dare you burn something so useless when there was an intoxicant bringing ambrosial warmth, mewling and groaning endlessly around your shaft, embellishing the reddened beige with hallowed ivory? You were mocking him and he knew it.

“Dámelo,” He panted begrudgingly causing spittle to elude his lips that were perishing from desiccation. Without giving you a moment to relish in his faultless lilt that wasn’t programmed in his system, but rather studied simply by analyzing how you speak, he snatched the floral-based joint from between your fingers before tossing it elsewhere. You didn’t need it. You needed him to cum, but it was beginning to sound like he was convincing himself more than anything.

He could even feel you grinning puckishly underneath his meretricious hat, which he forbade you to remove since you didn’t deserve to bask in the glory he endowed upon you, but you could definitely rely on your imagination. From what you’ve learned was a cross-armed, disdainful-appearing doll converting into a needy, irritable lover who needs to feel you come undone beneath him. “Do you ever consider being more God-fearing, [Y/n], or do you have some sort of dying wish?”

Irreverently, you nodded to affirm his revulsion; he was on the verge of leaving you hard and impatient to accentuate his disappointment. You understood this, seeing as he placed his frigid palms on your pecs in order to ascend his hips, but you grasped one of them instinctively, coaxing his walls to remember why they contract to begin with. Meanwhile your other hand occupied his rubified dick, your thumb anointed with cum that seeped from his sensitive tip. A spate of overwhelming, awe-inspiring, sacrilegious images permeated your memories once your fingers journeyed along his maculated hips, your dick twitching harshly inside of him since the overwhelming desire to paint his ass with crimson handprints inveigled you greatly. It’s almost as if he hasn’t even threatened you to begin with, for the broken whimpers that were poorly disguised as resentful grumbles desired endless adulation.

“¿Ay, muñeco… Quieres más?” You questioned sonorously as your thumb gyrated around his tip, your tone somewhat strained due to the fact that Kuni pulsated and clenched around you because of appropriate addressment. Although he despised the fact that he needed to reduce to fragility to become utilitarian, libations of cum spluttering from his hole as you fuck him during plethoras of orgasms was considerable for the night. The mortifying idea left him ironically blinded, which was determined with the way his hips wiggled and rutted irregularly onto your dick.

Even with his condescending persona, it was evident that he wanted to be of some use to you; he could hardly restrain the tears that painted his porcelain-based eyes as a spew of no’s eluded his lips. In fact, he hasn’t even given you any time to process, since he already snatched your hand away from his tip to avoid finishing too fast… for the third time.

“W-Wait, please…” Imploringly, he hissed under his breath, an innate curse muttering afterwards when he expressed with vulnerability. Deplorable, to say the least. Extremely, to say the least. You adored every second of it; it took you the rest of your self-possession not to batter into him to the point he was charming incantations as if you were his lord. Though, you respected his wishes for now, especially because the cool zephyr kissing your sweat-painted face provided by him finally removing his hat was enough to bring solace to your impulses. “Don’t make me… not again…”

Kuni’s resilience was impeccable, and despite his muddled vision, tousled, empurpled blue hair, panting lips, and entirety of his fucked out exterior, he was willing for more that you had in store for him. You bit your bottom lip with another one of your infamous smiles as you finally grasped both of his hips with both hands. He was startled, let alone offended, at first, but once you began gradually lifting and plunging him down on your dick, the negativities dissipated like flower petals in February. His authenticity was enough, and you could already feel your orgasm approaching rather quickly since you preferred the stammered whimpers rather than the taunting comments. He was more appropriate like this, after all.

“That’s it, fuck me fast- mierda. Want an oblation? Then show me. Show me you need me to cum.” 　　꒱꒱

⑅ neso productions. all rights fucking reserved, do not plagiarize.

[silviakundera]

The Double ep 15-16 reaction

I'm glad they added another flashback of her brother and included his escort friend from the novel. Minor character and a small tragedy but it humanizes him for me. He was just a sincerely nice guy who wasn't kind to her as an aim to possess her, but because he was a good person. And so she never forgot him. She thinks he forgot her - only to learn he never cut ties with her; he was killed. Little tragedies, small people that royalty step on like ants.

To me it feels important that as much as the drama gives her husband depth and makes us sympathize with his situation, it shouldn't allow us to forget that her family was destroyed. We didn't see it happen, like the shovel to her head, but her father was his teacher. Xue Zhao was his brother in law. Their names may no longer matter to anyone else, but our protagonist will not allow them to go unavenged. [lil note from the novel I liked - novel!Duke Su being perplexed and unable to figure out how FL is getting this successful escort to assist her, when even he seems to respect how impossible it is to get a handle on the woman - because she has a secure position as a popular escort & enough money & is satisfied being exactly where she is (doesn't want to fight for favor as someone's treasured concubine), independant and unable to be threatened or bribed. so what could possibly move her?]

(Now this is sorta thematically tying in with the backstory drama created for ML with this bandit. ML's general dad was a good person and so he wasn't forgotten by this person whose life he touched, so presumably he'll do ML a favor. FL and ML have turned into schemers and are willing to get their hands dirty; but are aided in their quest by the fact that their dead family had a positive impact on some people who still remember it?? Be interesting to see if this does become a minor theme 🤔)

ANYWAY let's get to the good stuff: Last episode ML started realizing he's catching feelings. This episode FL feels jealousy and isn't shy about it ('can't I?'). We're making real shippy progress here!

He very much still enjoys watching her strut and perform. But the distance between them is slowly closing. That whole drinking game scene was pure gold.

"Are you not upset now? "Huh?" THE LOOKS THEY EXCHANGE AT THIS.

He's entered the play, joining her on stage instead of coldly manipulating from a high vantage point. Her walls are down for a moment and he's not even hiding his bias. Blatant flirting and she has him smiling. Yes, he has 2 agendas here but unlike the last failed 'date' they were playing together, not her in the role of pawn. I love a smart ML. Boy is not gonna fumble this chance to have his schemes AND a woman who's perfect for him.

I found this subplot of FL foiling the Li clan's plans for Ye clan her most clever manuveuring in the translated novel (up to ch 113). Though it's being compressed for time & tweaked, still satisfying to see her outflank the corrupt local government. As well, very glad to see the ML point out that she has a double-motive... to intentionally make the Jiang and Li irreconcilable. (They're not her real family, they're her enemies!) Nooooooo don't have multiple layers to your plans, it's too sexyyyyyy

[ruiniel]

Hello!

I hope your feeling better, I myself have been feeling like crap lately so you have my sympathies.

I saw your post on glorfindel and was wondering if you'd be happy with more tolkien requests, though I definitely love your castlevania works!

That being said, may I request a glorfindel and a human lady reader?

Thank you for sending! And yes, welcoming Tolkien requests.

I redid an older Glorfindel scene for this... wanted to 'revive' it instead of letting it sit in my drafts. Might follow up with something NSFW, not sure?

General note: also working on the older asks, it's taking forever

Lairë

Pairing: Glorfindel x human fem!reader

Count: 0.5k

Rating: T

Forlond, Lindon, late Second Age

“Laurefindil, Laurefindil!”

He turns from his musing at the sound of his name, his eyes torn from the swaying waves. The day has given way to dusk, and it’s been one of clear skies and mild winds. He breathes the salty breeze, his chest filling with the rush and flow come from the sea depths.

You’re breathless when you reach his side, taking him by the arm. “Look, look a whale! Do you see it? Look there, to the East!”

Glorfindel watches you for a moment, smiling at the sight of your sparkling eyes. He follows your pointing finger. Indeed he sees the tip of a tail splashing silver foam away in the far distance, just where the Gulf of Lune flows into the sea. “I do see it… well done,” he glances back at you. 

Your hair is loose, your dress wet, the sheer material clinging to your thighs and legs after a spree in the shallow waters kissing the shore. Glorfindel himself is unshod, his plain grey tunic reaching his knees, his trousers rolled up to his calves. 

“Well done indeed, and I win, my lord,” you tease, a finger pointing at his chest. “And you know the wager. Tonight, you dance.” His frown makes you chuckle. 

“I most certainly will not.”

You cross your arms. “That was the wager. You took it. I said that I saw them, and you asked me to prove it. I did. Or does Lord Laurefindil only keep his word when it suits?” For a long time, you’d taken to calling him by his Quenya name, knowing it gladdens him to hear it. “No, you promised. Imagine the look on their faces!”

The Elf shakes his head. “You’re being childish.”

Whatever else he may have uttered, it is lost with the way you barrel into him, and even Glorfindel loses his balance with the swiftness of your movements. The sand is warm beneath him, but it’s also in his mouth and ears. Your face hovers into view, framed by salty locks, eyes now twinkling mirthfully above him. “Rise and let me up, or you go unaccompanied to your dancing tonight.” He tries to sound demanding, but somehow, in the short years he’s known you, you’d come to see through most of his devices. 

A half-smile graces your lips, your arms propped on his shoulders. “Make me.” 

He could never stay upset with you for long, pretend or not. His hands slip along your thighs, up your hips, settling there. He closes his eyes at the warmth of your mouth, trailing along his chin, to his lips. His grip tightens on your hips.

And then he’s fast on his feet, even with you struggling and laughing in his arms.

“Put me down, you cannot! Put me down! Laurefindil! You will regret this!”

Still smiling he carries you, futile resistance and all, to the shore. Glorfindel advances into the lazy waves, painted gold and green in the sunset.  “No,” he takes your chin between his fingers. “You will.” And he drops you.

You gasp when cold water douses your sun-warmed skin, thrashing to be free of him. Anyone passing would stand perplexed at the sight of a famed Balrog slayer jestingly dunking the head of a young maiden beneath the sea while she grapples and tugs at his clothing like a writhing handmaiden of Uinen. Your laughter glitters along the shore, lost in the faraway winds.

[celaenaeiln]

What's the deal with fanon Tim bc I read some comics with Tim and I've seen him in cartoons but all I see people talk about is "haha coffee addicted nerd who doesn't sleep!" and that just seems weird and wrong. Like my view of Tim has always been "he's a nice and extremely smart guy who sometimes pushes things a bit too far and maybe a bit set in his own ways/Batman's ways" but now I'm not even sure of that because I really haven't read THAT much (mostly seen him in other series) lol

No you're right!! Anon you're so right!!!

What the heck is up with fanon Tim Drake??

The thing about him not sleeping is actually true though

Detective Comics (2016) Issue #937

Batman: Contagion Issue #11

(I agree with Catwoman, Tim is so cute)

So I understand where the coffee addiction in fanon comes from but Tim's not actually addicted to coffee in the comics. I actually don't recall him mentioning coffee at all. At some point he might have but if he did, then those instances are so little in the grand scheme of things it might as well be called negligible if it's trying to be called an addiction.

But more importantly, Tim is so much more than that!! My favorite Tim Drake aspect of him is how sassy and sarcastic he is, it makes him so endearing!!

UGH NO ONE APPRECIATES HOW MUCH OF A LITTLE SHIT HE IS!!

Robin (1993) Issue #58

CMON CMON CMON LETS TALK MORE ABOUT THIS!!

Tim, you little shit, you know exactly what they say - cause you did it!!

HIS SELF-SATISFIED SMILE!!!

In all honesty I find Tim the funniest of the entire batfamily to read because he's so-he's so wholesomely quirky in a mean way. That's such as awkward way to describe it but reading his comics, you just can't get enough of them because he's just too funny!

At one point he has a massive fever and stuck underground with a bunch of weird kids and one of the girls is just like "please get better, please get some rest!" as she's wiping away his sweat and Tim has like no breath or energy at this point. But with the last remains of will power, he uses his breath to push one last question between lips.

Robin (1993) Issue #70

And as the audience waits in baited anticipation we get this-

Robin (1993) Issue #70

It's actually a very valid question and shows his detective thinking and yada yada yada but THE COMEDIC GOLD OF HIS TIMING!!

Like his situation and his question there's a massive gap that's almost incomprehensible about it all which is why it's so fantastic!!

The way he sasses batman is top 5 fav moments with him.

Azrael: Agent of the Bat Issue #91

Thanks @paladin-of-nerd-fandom65 for finding it again <33

But Tim overall is just like a normal kid. He's what authors tried to do with Stephanie but failed. They were able to make him relatable to the audience because the way he acts, it's so quirky but funny. Yes, he's a boy detective genius but he likes messing with people, he likes solving crime, he likes hanging out with his big brother, he asks for relationship advice, he can get insecure, he can get upset without acting cold, he gets tired, he gets anxious, he's determined, and he's super dorky.

Robin (1993) Issue #25

Like really dorky.

But what I think really defines him is this panel

Robin (1993) Issue #48

This scene is probably what explains him best. Tim is someone who ponders a lot. He thinks constantly all the time whether it's about cases or his personal life, he just goes over the choices he makes constantly because he's just soul-searching alot.

He always means well even if he's awkward about it and he's just a diverse personality overall. The fanon interpretation of his character doesn't really do him any justice because it doesn't address how funny he is or confused or just a likeable, real person in general.

[exo-raskreia]

Imma rant about Ichigo and Orihime cuz your blog has waken a outrageous fire in me!! And rightfully so! I agree with literally everything you said(btw Karin and hitsugaya are endgame for me too🤭🤭)

Ichihime makes literal sense and it genuinely sucks as a ship and i don't get why the shippers are satisfied with the results. I asked my friend who he wanted to be endgame and answered Ichigo and Orihime cuz they are a better fit. LITERALLY HOW?!! I didn't go psycho on him cuz if Ichigo and Rukia ain't your cup of tea then fine. But why are people answers automatically always Ichihime?? Is it cuz they are canon??? Where the hell was the build-up for it then?! It is nothing compare to ichigo/rukia or orihime with tatsuki/uryu. Idk if Kubo was trying to punk us by pairing them up or not. I feel like he didn't plan our their relationship properly! People say it was obvious from the beginning that ichigo likes her back but i sure as hell didn't see it! Maybe i'm just salty and refused to see the signs cuz Ichiruki is the best ship( and i had a crush on ichigo since forever soooo... 😖😖) ?? I've always been a rukia and ichigo fan rather cuz they actually had the chemistry and insane connection. I'm so mad that they weren't endgame. My girl Rukia was elite why didn't Ichigo went for her and vice versa?? Don't get me started on the poems, the speechs, the way ichigo always and always thinks of rukia. Like the ingredients for the cake was perfect, why the hell would you put gasoline in there💀💀

Some people say that cuz the show is shounen and not a romance, i shouldn't be upset about ichihime ending up together and not be mad of lack of their romance. I'm not expecting ichigo and orihime to have some epic EPIC love story or anything just make it more sense for ME at least. If Ichihime was some side-ship then i wouldn't care as much, but this is the MC of the show i want to see something greater than what we received! If they were to have a love story(ya know a real one) then they should've played it out like in Fruits basket

Ichigo and orihime actually remind me alot of kyo and tohru from fruits basket. And they're all very similar to think about it! Ichigo and Kyo: the grumpy orange haired protecters that have a heart of gold. Orihime and Tohru: the loveable sunshine character that are super traumatized but still manage to keep smiling. The only difference is that Kyo and Tohru actually have the emotional moments and had the chemistry and ya know they actually TALKED and were ACTUAL FRIENDS(as in kyo didn't treat tohru like a acquaintance) before dating. But since Orihime is so much like Ichigo's dead mom, their relationship would've been like Yuki and Tohru. I know the comparison might be dumb to do cuz they are very different anime and different genre but still!! Excuse me for caring so much about that my fav ain't canon. Yes this is a shounen anime but they could've at least squeezed in a bit of the love story of the mc to show they actually care about it. The MC of the show has a better and stronger bond with his bestie than his own wife. Like how is my girl Orihime not bothered by it?! Should've end up Tatsuku i swear. I mean they're literally Nana and Hachi!! 🍓🐶✨

I feel like orihime just exist to be his love interest and that's it! Girl had the potential to be a great character that ain't always there to be the love interest. Her becoming a housewife was insulting cuz what do you mean she ain't a robot destroying a city (i can't remember that scene from the earlier seasons but something in between those lines🤣) I do like Orihime enough but not that much cuz it's Ichigo this and Ichigo that. Like girl i get it. I wanted(and still do) him too but don't settle for being the second choice) HOMEGIRL YOU HAVE OTHER LUCKY DUCKS THAT WANNA BE WITH YOU!!

And another thing: I read somewhere that: just cuz Uryu had a crush Orihime that, that doesn't mean that Orihime should be together with him.... Okay then why can't that also imply to Ichigo and Orihime?? Like why just cuz "She'll fall for him in every lifetime" doesn't mean that he has to do the same too!! Rukia is already the queen of his heart mind you

BUT ANYWAYS!! It's a shounen after all so i shouldn't be expecting the mc to have a well-written love story and not to have high hopes of the MC love interest to be something more than that. But whatever at the end of the day they're CANON and have a kid together so all i can do is cry about it and live in fanfiction.

Ahem, I'm done with my rant thank you 😌 (And yes anti-IchiRuki fans I'll still be salty in my 40s cuz of the ending and I will never shut up about it just cuz they have canonically have kids)

No worries, anon! You've come to the right place! Let it all out~

Not surprised your male friend would choose Ori. Typical. For dudes like him, her appearance, superficial crush on Ichigo, & the word "canon" being slapped on are enough for them, despite there not being any actual chemistry between IH. It is also a common trope in other manga/anime, so they convince themselves that it was meant to happen, but it doesn't mean it makes sense for every story, especially not in Bleach's case; it doesn't make narrative sense if they actually looked into it.

(Canon ≠ good. Just look up what went wrong in 'How I Met Your Mother' or even 'Game Of Thrones' S8).

(While on the subject, since Rukia is a much better written character than Ori, if she had a body like Ori's, & Ori like Rukia's, even less dudes would care about IH 🫢, since they never even have good arguments in favor of it that aren't the 3 things I mentioned already up top).

Ichigo & Rukia had the most chemistry in the entire manga/anime, & it baffles me when people didn't/don't (wanna) see it. I went into Bleach almost blind when I first started watching it & IR really stood out. Their bond is right in your face, playing along the border between platonic & romantic, making you wonder what exactly it is, but knowing they aren't just mere friends. In the manga, I was constantly awed & amused by how borderline romantic it came off as, despite having already watched the anime (which did not do the manga justice in many ways; and then antis claim IR was mostly anime-based, PLEASE 🙄). Kubo really wasn't playing when it came to these 2. What a freakin' troll.

Haven't watched Fruits Basket, but I can see what you mean. Grumpy & Sunshine is a fun trope, however, as you said, IH just didn't have what it takes. If Kubo had wanted to, he could have properly developed IH at some points in the manga, such as the Fullbring arc, & it wouldn't have to be anything big, as Bleach is not a romance. He could have opened the arc with those 2 already going out, like them holding hands as they head to school or something, maybe showing some flashbacks of them talking things out, comforting each other since HM to show how they got together. Instead, in those 17 months since Ichigo lost his powers & contact with Rukia, you're telling me Kubo couldn't make IH bond? Instead, Ori's still pathetically pining after him while Ichigo is still thinking of, longing for, Rukia! How am I supposed to believe IH was meant to be endgame?!

Orihime had more chemistry with other people than the man she ended up with 💀. I personally ship her with 2 other men (Ishida & Ulquiorra). She was different with them. One selflessly cared for her, had her at the forefront of his mind in her own rescue arc (unlike Ichigo), while the other challenged her, found her fascinating & wanted to learn more... Not to mention they both protected her from Ichigo a couple times in the HM arc.

She really did have potential to be a great character but it all kept going down the drain, never achieved her dreams nor goals. She kept regressing as the story went on, especially when it came to Ichigo. She was never able to encourage him nor fully support him & was usually a complete damsel in his presence (he even seemed annoyed by her during the Ywach fight, which mind u, she was only there cuz there was no one else left & Ichigo had no choice?). She was more interesting whenever she wasn't around him. All her best moments were when she wasn't thinking about him. Saving Tatsuki? Bonding with Ishida in SS, standing in front of him to protect him in the Fullbring arc? Bonding with Ulquiorra (the only good thing she did the whole HM arc)? She could've done more in HM but didn't. In TYBW, she didn't do anything special, couldn't even encourage Ichigo & was treated like a ragdoll by Ywach. This is how Kubo wanted us to remember her. She was mostly reduced to fanservice by the end (and she's still not as popular as Matsumoto or Yoruichi in that department 💀). I sometimes think he didn't like her all that much with how he treated her character...

While watching the anime, I seriously had been hoping she'd get over Ichigo in the SS arc when she wistfully said Rukia was a very special person to him who changed his world (oh, boy, was I in for disappointment). Right off the bat, there was nothing interesting/exciting about her interactions with Ichigo (I was shipping her with Ishida by this point). He was just so blasé with her, I almost felt bad for her & it only kept getting worse. I then hoped she'd finally get over him after the traumatic experience at the dome in HM, but her ongoing silly crush made my eyes roll & lose hope in it. LIKE GIRL, HE'S HUNG UP ON ANOTHER GIRL, & U SHOULD'VE STOPPED PUTTING HIM ON A PEDESTAL BY NOW; HE'S NO PRINCE CHARMING & ESPECIALLY NOT FOR U WHEN HE BARELY GAVE U A SECOND THOUGHT IN UR OWN RESCUE ARC & ALMOST GOT U KILLED LIKE 3 TIMES & U HAD TO GET SAVED BY ULQUIORRA & ISHIDA, LIKE-

Orihime doesn't have anything in common with Masaki other than maybe their appearance (which imo, Masaki looks more like short-haired Matsumoto anyway?). Besides the cheerful part, their personalities are very different. Masaki was more like Rukia: brave, strong, selfless, teasing & annoying Isshin/Ichigo, etc... IR has actual dynamic parallels with IsshiMasa in the narrative... Kubo just copied IR moments, especially considering he wrote as he went... So, don't be fooled by those morons who go by appearance alone & even those weird lines in one of the novels (Oedipus complex anyone?) instead of the legitimate parallels between IR & IM shown in the manga, such as these:

What was going thru Kubo's head if he supposedly "intended" for IH to happen? Ichigo & Ori had more chemistry with other characters than with each other. Kubo went about this all wrong. Bleach not being a romance is no excuse for shoddily pairing up characters in the end. In a few scenes scattered throughout the manga, he could've implied them. Every time they interacted, their relationship should've progressed somehow. And he actually did this with IchiRuki. (In regards to Naruto, for example, Kishimoto at least admitted he didn't put enough effort into his ships by saying romance was not his forte & he's not good at writing female characters, but at least most of the ships made sense & esp NaruHina had actual good moments scattered throughout the manga...).

Sigh, I've said this before, but why can't more battle shounens be like Fairy Tail when it comes to developing the ships throughout the story? There'd be less drama. Even Gintama did a better job at developing the main ships, lol, that if they became canon, hardly anyone would've been surprised (they were somewhat implied if u squint, tho 🤪).

There are theories Kubo wanted to spite Shounen Jump for their treatment over the years so he ended things this way (and maybe to spite the fans too, since his manga sales had been on the decline for years). Ever heard of the "choosing unhappiness" theories? Basically, remember that Ywach said he'd come back at Ichigo's happiest moment? Well, he didn't come back at Ichigo's wedding with Ori, not even at the birth of his son. He came back when Ichigo reunited with RUKIA after 10 years.

So what could this be telling us? That Ichigo chose to be unhappy by not getting with the one person who made him the happiest. Rukia gave him that push by choosing unhappiness first (since she knew Ichigo couldn't make the first attempt to) & married Renji, who in turn, also gave Ichigo that push to go for Ori. IR chose unhappiness to defeat Ywach. Could this actually be what Urahara meant when he said he'd leave everything to "Kurosaki-san & Kuchiki-san" after his defeat in TYBW?! (we deserved the IR tag-team we never got in the final fight, screw Kubo)

One could also say his friends chose unhappiness to help too? Ishida becoming a doctor he'd never expressed interest in & seeming isolated from the friend group (maybe not agreeing with the farce they're all in), Chad becoming a boxer instead of using his fists to protect, Ori marrying a man who doesn't love her & she knows never will, Renji marrying a woman who doesn't love him & never will (and whom I think he doesn't love either? My view on that here)... Isshin is nowhere in sight, could it be he also doesn't wanna be a part of this farce in which his own son chose to marry a woman he doesn't love?

Still, everything about this ending is so wrong, makes no sense, a bunch of retcons too. Heck, remember the rebuilding of Sokyoku Hill in SS? Made Ichigo destroying it meaningless 🙄.

Anyway, I didn't mean for this post to be too long. There's so much to rant about lol. There's also so much to make fun of 👀. As I said in this post, IH was never popular & never will be. Kubo himself can't bring himself to give them content & his affiliates (like Shounen Jump, Studio Pierrot, etc.) can't be bothered either, as IH doesn't sell. Canon for almost 10 years & still no official couple/family arts nor merch 😂. If they end up getting thrown a bone in the future, the fact it took them that long would still be laughable.

In the end, it's best to ignore canon, its fans, & engage with what you like. It also doesn't hurt to sometimes make fun of Bleach's failures~ Kubo has made it so easy, can you blame us? 🤷‍♀️

Also, glad u like HitsuKarin as well 🤭. Would you believe it's my #1 Bleach OTP? I had brainrot for it a few years ago, like I literally scoured almost every bit of content that I could find, & while it's died down, I just know that if Kubo &/or his affiliates were to feed us HK content now, I'd eat it up like a starving dog-

Sorry for the late reply, anon! 😓 Been having brainrot for a different fandom, if u can guess

[shinyshade8026]

Ramble about Vizzy headconons. Go 😉🫵

- Mod Cosmos

>:]

VIZZY HEADCANONS

Lizzy gives V a phone for the sole reason of her wanting to talk to her when she isn't at the bunker, but she doesn't say that

V appreciates the fact Lizzy isn't super scared of her and is very chill. While they adore drones being scared and strive for it, they're glad that there's one drone who isn't scared to death of her.

You know that scene of V and Lizzy sitting on the roof together? Oh V def bridal style carried Lizzy up there so they could sit together

V calls Lizzy 'Liz' most of the time

Lizzy enjoyed every moment of her time with V (Talking about the pictures we saw in episode 3)

Lizzy TOTALLY suggested that red is V's color and actually went and found a dress for V before prom happened and was the one who told V to send N to get that one

Lizzy smells like vanilla, this is V's favorite scent to smell other than oil

V smells like cinnamon, this is something Lizzy likes to smell

Lizzy has a designated pillow V uses during their sleepovers, that is V's pillow and she'd probably get upset if anyone used it

...V has a pink heart sticker on her phone case, Lizzy has a gold/red one

That's all I got

[wednesdays-buck]

. . . a 9-1-1 abc fic rec!

🚒❤️🚒❤️🚒

everything (nothing) has changed by bizarrestars

[Explicit]

After Eddie gets shot, Buck confesses his love. From there, things get a little out of hand.

***

Buck breathes for a moment, then sets his shoulders. "Eddie, there's something I have to tell you."

"Do you?" Eddie asks flatly, still alarmed and doing his best to hide it. "I would've never guessed."

Buck swallows. "Eddie, I love you."

"Are you softening the blow, or buttering me up? Because, I've got to tell you, I'm still very worried regardless," Eddie tells him.

"No, you don't understand. I love you. I'm currently in love with you," Buck says as evenly as possible, and even then, his voice wobbles precariously there for a moment. He exhales. "You don't have to worry about it, though, because I've processed it and decided to—to find relief in telling you before moving on and moving forward."

Eddie stares at him. No response at all.

Well, at least he's not freaking out.

what if i can't have us by woodchoc_magnum

[Explicit]

In which Eddie is dating Marisol; Buck's dating Tommy, and Eddie has feelings about that, which he simply does. not. understand.

forget a six pack, i need the whole damn keg by bucksbicycle

As soon as the shop was cleared and they started getting the scene cleaned up, Joe reached out to say hello. His light greeting and catch-up small talk is then followed by a “Damn, Buck, I know it’s been a while, but what are you doing? You’re looking big, man.”

With that, Eddie walked away and tried to shut it out.

“You’re looking big, man.”

Why don’t you shut up, man? Why don’t you think about Eddie’s mental health, man? Can’t you see that Eddie is trying not to notice how big Buck is, MAN?

-

5 times Eddie admires Bulking Season Evan Buckley in the gym + 1 time the attention is reciprocated

-

title from Big Boy by SZA

c'mon baby, rip it by drh0rrible

(Part 2 of THIS SERIES)

It was only a matter of time before one of Buck's sleeves ripped. Buck knew it, everybody at the 118 knew it. Bystanders on the streets of LA knew it.

But when it actually happens, Buck just wants to know why Eddie is so upset.

A Perfectly Normal Reaction by Ailelie

Eddie knows his reactions to each milestone in his or Buck's relationships are not normal, but he can't stop. He needs some way to make the connection he feels with Buck real and untouchable by anyone else.

Basically, Eddie has a lot feelings he doesn't understand. So, instead of thinking about them, he keeps doing more and more to cement Buck's place in his life.

deep inside a gold mine by marviless

Eddie is all fucking over him. He falls asleep with his body sprawled over the broad expanse of Buck’s chest and wakes up with his face buried into the skin of his neck. They watch a movie together on Eddie’s couch and Eddie practically sits in his lap, head tucked under Buck’s chin as he blinks at the screen. When they’re alone, Eddie can’t stop himself from peppering kisses to Buck’s lips and his cheeks and his forehead as Buck giggles and pretends to try and duck. Under the dinner table every night, Eddie will hook his foot around Buck’s ankle and make Buck duck his head into a flushed smile. And Eddie is always, always holding Buck’s hand—running errands and in their own bed and at the grocery store and across the console while Buck’s driving them to work. Maybe he’s just in the honeymoon stage. Or maybe this is how he’ll always feel—like every second he’s not touching Buck is a second wasted.

in which eddie is in love and a bit clingy about it.

squeeze the day by fallingthorns

“You all are delusional,” Buck squawks. Eddie lets out a low giggle and Buck turns to glare at him. “Oh, so now you have something to say?” He directs it at Eddie, and Eddie laughs again.

“I don’t know, Buck,” he teases, gesturing at the orange. “You have been slacking on the bicep curls lately.” He pokes Buck’s bicep and Buck lets out a yelp. “Hm. Soft.”

It is decidedly not soft. Eddie will probably be thinking about that for the next two business days, but that’s between Eddie and Eddie’s thoughts alone. -- Or, the one where Buck squeezes an orange with his bicep and Eddie has some thoughts about it.

up against the wall by orphan_account

[Explicit]

In the months that passed, Eddie has been able to carefully work through his trauma from the shooting, with a therapist that he finally clicked with, and slowly but surely, the events of that day become a thing of the past.

Well, almost, because even when he was in excruciating amounts of pain and in and out of consciousness, he was able to register the fact that Buck had lifted him up and shoved him into the truck like a rag doll.

And yeah, maybe it was the adrenaline that gave Buck the strength, but the thought of Buck being able to lift him so easily has firmly planted roots in his mind and refused to let him go.

Or: That gratuitous wall-sex fic.

the soft animal of your body by heygirltimeformorning

[Explicit]

It hits him like a bullet, like a tsunami, like lightning: he is in love with Evan Buckley.

Alternatively: The accidental edging of Evan “Buck” Buckley.

Your Touch; Brands and Burns, Heals and Holds by marry_writes

Buck's eyes widen as he realises he’s about to get backhanded. His eyes fall shut involuntarily but the hurt never lands.

He slowly blinks open his eyes to two pairs of wide eyes. The girl’s are mixed with guilt but it’s Eddie’s eyes that have him flinching slightly. He catches the slightly murderous intent that is slowly fading away giving way to pure concern. Buck looks down to where Eddie’s hand is holding onto the girl’s wrist. Oh

“Watch it.”

He’s never heard Eddie use that tone on a patient before.

OR 4 times Buck doesn't question Eddie and the one time he does.

Whumptober - Touch

[leesmustardgarden]

When the Sun Comes Up

P x (gn) reader — Drabble

Warnings: mentions of the horrors of Krat (idk how to put a warning tag on it), general game spoilers, Reader is written as a painter, very short drabble, something something trauma, P’s trauma response is to shut down or start swinging I don’t make the rules sorry

A/N: I am horrible at the game, but I am playing with the intention of making him happy, so have this for my struggles

Your brush glides along the canvas surface, your hands masterful and the motions practiced. There’s a level of peacefulness and concentration etched onto your face that P has seldom had the chance to really observe. There’s something beautiful about it, as there always is with you. Sunlight splatters through the open window in long reaching lines across the walls, bathing your figure in gold.

P is leaning carefully against the doorway, and he has been for a good 5 minutes now, quietly watching you work. There’s something about the scene, so quiet and perfectly peaceful, that is uncanny to P. It might be that his life is marked by tragedy and that the trauma of seeing Krat in such a derelict state leads him to always be on high alert; but he can’t help it. He cares for you deeply— cherishes you with every tick and click of his mechanical heart. It would take one thing going wrong to lose you. To lose everyone. The thought makes it harder to move.

“Hey, lovely,” you say, snapping him out of his thoughts. Your face is twisted in worry, and the creeping thoughts settle in his head. You’re so beautiful, even when you look upset. “Have you just come back? Is everything ok?”

You’re halfway through the room to him, and he knows he should be meeting you halfway but he feels frozen. Maybe it’s the fear, or the worry, or everything he’s had to face and take down today taking a toll on his metal body but he’s exhausted and scared. Somehow you know and take his cold face in your hands. You’re sweeping a thumb across his cheek, and the world comes back with every sweep.

The faces of the dead haunt him in the shadows of the room, dancing along the walls and taunting him. Some of them are the citizens of Krat lining the streets, some of them are the faces of those not dead yet. On tougher days, it would be your face taunting him; today is not a tougher day. Today, it’s easier to ground back into reality where he meets your loving eyes.

“Do you want to sit down and take a break with me for a minute?” You ask when he doesn’t answer. It takes all he has to nod.

He doesn’t know if he can ever have the right words to say it aloud, but you make him feel. As if you were painting his heart with splatters of emotion; as if your smile was the sun etching itself into the shadows of his mind. As if loving you was something he was made to do, he sits there and loves you.

He has his head in your lap and his legs splayed over the loveseat, your hand sweeping the fringe of his hair. The anxiety creeping up his throat settles in his stomach, and in comes the relief he feels around you. Sunlight in your smile and warmth in your eyes, it is both dawn and midnight in your arms. Dawn, because seeing you after a long day is like watching the sun rise from the dark horizon. Midnight, because having you near makes the whole world go dark like the night sky, with you the moon shining down.

In this moment he is not metal and undying, but mortal and human in every way that matters. He is a real boy in love with the moon, a tree in love with the sun. His hands reach out to hold your smile, to hold the kindness of sunlight in his palms, and your grin widens. A laugh slips from your lips all and he wishes he can bottle up the sound and keep it with him.

“What are you up to, love? What’s going on?” Your worry shines through your eyes, but you keep your voice level. He knows he is worrying you, but he doesn’t want to burden you with the horrors of the city.

So instead he keeps his mouth shut and lets his palms press against your warm cheeks. He is holding sunlight and dawn and midnight in his arms— it is holding him dearly in return. The horrors of yesterday, today, and tomorrow can give him this moment’s rest.

[urne-buriall]

so you've told me now you like sotw alternate realities. well here's the river scene were Dean opens up to Cas about John's abuse way ahead of schedule, mere days after the 4th of july:

“There are things I want to tell you,” said Cas, “and questions I want to ask. But I’m never sure if I can.”

“What do you mean?” asked Dean.

“Sometimes I want to tell you about my family because I think you understand,” said Cas. “Other times… I’m just not sure.”

“You could tell me if you wanted,” said Dean. He wished Cas would say. He wanted so badly for Cas to trust him. “It wouldn’t change anything. You’d still be my friend, no matter what you said.”

Cas slowly nodded his head. “Right,” he said. He turned again. Started walking. “I don’t want to burden you. And like I said, talking isn’t my strength.”

There had been a test and Dean failed it. He was sure of it. He just didn’t know what he’d done wrong. Had he come on too strong? Had he seemed insincere?

Maybe he was supposed to offer something first. Maybe he needed to be the one to break open that levee, the one that would never close again. To find out if they shared anything, perhaps it was on Dean to say, my dad beats the shit out of me and has since I can remember.

“Cas, wait,” said Dean. He caught up with Cas, then continued walking. He didn’t quite look over his shoulder as he said, “I’ll tell you.”

At the river. He needed to be still, not in this in-between space on the path.

And as he walked, feeling Cas trail slowly after him, studying Dean, he wondered what he was about to do. How would he say it? Could he really confess this? Could he trust Cas with it?

He went to a rise above the river, where grass and clover turned into a straight-edged bank a few feet above the water. He took off his boots and set them aside, bare feet coming to rest in the cool green clover.

Cas came beside him and cautiously did the same. Dean wrapped his arms around his knees, unable to look at Cas next to him. Nearly shoulder-to-shoulder.

They’d sat like this the day of the rainstorm, talking idly before the downpour. That night, Cas stayed over and wore Dean’s clothes. Had stripped to nearly nothing on the covered porch, skin gold in the light and shining with rain.

Dean buried his face in the crook of his arm and tried to forget that.

“Dean?” said Cas, patience giving way to desperate curiosity.

Cas would say he seemed upset again. And if Dean took an outside look at himself, it was laughable to try and deny. He lifted his head.

He’d promised to tell Cas. It was the only way to find out more about Cas in return, and it was something Dean wanted badly enough that it brought him here. He was going to risk everything. For Cas.

“It’s my dad,” he said, surprised by the weakness of his own voice. Shaky, hoarse.

Cas looked Dean over carefully as he waited for more. He gave a faint nod.

“He’s… Tough.” That could be taken so many ways and Dean knew it. “On me,” he added, like it clarified anything. “Sometimes.”

Cas didn’t shift his posture, but the lines of his face became more deliberately contained. He took a moment to say, clear and even, “Does he hurt you?”

Dean looked sharply to the water. Only because his eyes began to burn, because he was losing his grip on the control he thought he had. He wasn’t supposed to cry over this. He was supposed to bear it. He was just going to state a fact, a fact he had lived with for so long and was strong enough to deal with. And it would have been different if Cas asked ‘does he hit you?’ but instead he’d said hurt, and that was a different question, wasn’t it? It was supposed to be easy to say hit, yes and move on without the impact of that action. But hurt made it so much more lasting.

He winced, trying to find another way around the answer, but then he nodded, a concession timed with the tears that came bitter and fast. He quickly bowed his head into his arms, not enough to hide the catching sound his breath made as he tried not to choke on this feeling.

He wasn’t supposed to be so upset. He wasn’t supposed to be this reactive. He wasn’t dead, it was nothing worth crying over.

Cas’ arm wrapped around his shoulder, a solid warmth that gave shape to Dean, keeping him from coming apart.

“I’m sorry,” Cas said, voice deep and low.

Dean tried to push down his feelings, raising his face even if it was tear-streaked and flushed. “About what?” he asked. Cas had nothing to be sorry for.

“That you’ve had to go through it,” said Cas.

Dean had never imagined anyone saying that to him. He thought he deserved to be called weak for putting up with it, or for crying about it now. He thought nobody would care if it happened to him or not. That anywhere he might’ve grown up he’d have been treated just the same because of the way he was. Never enough. All the things John implied and made him believe.

“You should leave,” said Cas.

“Is that what you did?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t,” said Dean. “Sam—”

“Does he hurt Sam, too?”

Dean shook his head. He felt oddly defensive. Of course John didn’t hurt Sam. Dean would never allow it. “I keep Sam out of it,” he said.

“You still shouldn’t stay.”

“It’s not that bad,” said Dean, like he hadn’t been trembling with the force of his tears just moments ago. His voice came thin. “Not enough to leave.”

“Any amount is enough to be worth leaving,” Cas said, so certain of himself.

Dean retreated back into denial. “It’s more complicated than that,” he said. “I’m— I’m not a kid anymore so…”

Cas’ arm fell away from Dean so that he could look at him better. Which was more dangerous and less comforting than his touch had been. “When was the last time it happened?”

Dean rubbed the edge of his hand against his wet cheek, not wanting to answer but unable to resist a direct question from Cas. He looked down at the river and cleared his throat. “Day before yesterday,” he said. If Cas were to roll his eyes, it wouldn’t be undeserved, but Cas stayed perfectly still. Dean’s fingertips brushed against his throat, wanting to say what happened, but unable to describe that part. “He was mad I brought Sam home. Against orders.”

He dropped his hand again, but Cas’ eyes stayed on his throat. Where a fading bruise could be taken for a smear of motor oil. Cas sharply inhaled, putting pieces together. His eyes scanned the rest of Dean’s body, pausing on his shoulder.

“Your broken arm,” said Cas.

“Yeah, uh,” said Dean. Thinking he’d find something better. “Yeah.” There wasn’t really a way to allay it. “He caught me— We were arguing. About eventing, and Zepp, and I thought if I could just get away from him. And he caught me on the steps and I— I fell down.”

“He’ll kill you,” Cas said.

Dean’s head jerked upward, facing Cas directly. “No,” he said. “He doesn’t want to do that.”

“So he’s in control when he hurts you,” said Cas.

“No!” said Dean quickly. Because that couldn’t be true. His father loved him or could. “When he’s mad he just— It flares up and then it’s over. And he’s sorry about it.”

“So he’s out of control,” said Cas. “Which means you’re in danger. Every time.”

Dean parted his lips to answer but Cas had him in a bind. Either John’s anger was out of control and a constant threat or it was in control and was used with full intention. Neither was good for Dean.

“I don’t want to leave,” said Dean, and that was more true than any of the apologies he’d tried to make on John’s behalf. He looked down between them. “I just want it to stop.”

Cas took a breath, almost started to say something, then didn’t. There was a kind of understanding in that holding back.

“What was it like for you?” Dean asked. It was the only reason he’d said anything. So that Cas would open up to him in turn. Cas thought there were things they had in common that Dean would understand.

“Different, probably,” said Cas. He went quiet, struggling with what to say, his eyes gazing nowhere as he grouped his thoughts. It was far easier to talk about Dean’s troubles than his own. “My mother was… unstable. Religious. Which made her hard to live with at the best of times. Never knowing which mother you were going to get.”

Dean could understand that. John was volatile too. It was a lot of work just planning for what version of John he’d meet in any given scenario.

“Would she hurt you?” he asked. He used the same word on purpose.

Cas didn’t cry, but he looked distant. “Yes,” he said. “She’d… She had punishments. She’d drag me by the ear to lock me in a cupboard for— for hours, when I’d done wrong.” Dean knew without Cas having to say that ‘doing wrong’ could be anything from causing trouble to colouring too loudly. He couldn’t imagine Cas being a trouble-making kid, not on purpose. But he mentioned being different when he grew up. Too emotional, finding it difficult to connect. That would be ‘wrong’ too.

“If we didn’t listen or were found impertinent, she would slap us,” said Cas.

“We?” said Dean.

“My siblings and I,” said Cas.

“I never knew you had siblings,” said Dean.

“Four of them,” said Cas. “They never left. I think. If they had, I hope they’d find me.” He shifted, picking at clover. “Then again, they had less trouble listening or understanding the right answer. I could never seem to figure it out. I was… different. And because I was a… a target, I think they didn’t always know that they had more in common with me than her.”

“And that’s why you left?”

Cas looked away and it told Dean how much more complicated it was than that.

“You said once…” Dean wet his lips before he spoke. “You said you didn’t feel like you had a choice.”

“I didn’t,” said Cas. “It was either live the way they wanted me to live, or leave. And I chose to leave.”

That made Cas probably the strongest person Dean knew. And just as Cas found it simpler to talk about Dean’s troubles, Dean found it easier to think of all Cas deserved.

“Remember what else you said?” Dean asked, the idea lighting up his mind as a fix for Cas’ incredible loneliness. “That you’d want a place with fresh air and animals where everything’s right. What if that was us? You know, like, around here so I didn’t really have to leave, but not with my dad, and—”

Cas was looking at him strangely. Dean’s excitement must have been somehow out of place, or the idea unappealing when Dean included himself. Cas hadn’t been making an offer of somewhere to stay, for Dean, when he warned him that John was a danger. This must not be what he was thinking of it all.

“Sorry,” said Dean quickly. His face flushed again, not helped by the heavy heat of the day. “I thought— When you said that, it sounded— It sounded so nice. But you want that on your own.”

“No, not on my own,” said Cas. “That defeats the point.”

“Right,” said Dean, and he placed his hands on the ground beside him, about to launch himself away from his foolish entry into the conversation. He needed to get away from Cas. He was hot. He should swim. If he could bear to get undressed.

Cas curled a hand around the inside of Dean’s arm just above the crease of his elbow. It wasn’t an iron grip, but it was solid, keeping him in place when he otherwise would’ve gone.

“I like spending my time with you,” Cas said in a rush. It was like he was answering something else, something neither of them had said. He didn’t look at Dean. “If I could give you somewhere to stay, away from your father— If you wanted that, I would do it.”

“We’re just—” Dean hesitated. “We’re just talking dreams, Cas,” he said.

“Why should it only be a dream?” said Cas.

This was more than Dean had ever reckoned on. So heavy it felt like lifting a weight from the bottom of a river.

“I mean that if you want to leave,” said Cas, “then you should. You could do it.” He let go of Dean’s arm, fingertips dragging away from his skin.

“It’s not as simple as that,” said Dean, finding himself confused. In one breath he suggested buying a farm with Cas, and in the next that he could never leave his father. It was just that what they talked about sounded too perfect to ever truly exist. How could Dean put any faith in something that exceeded his wildest dreams like that?

“If I bought a house with space for horses,” said Cas.

“Jeez, Cas,” said Dean.

“Would you come stay?”

“Are you for real?”

“If I could do it this minute, I would,” said Cas. “I don’t want to say goodbye and know you’ll go back to that house with John.”

“Could you do it?” said Dean. “Is that even possible?”

“I could figure it out,” said Cas. “One word. From you, and…”

“You think we can do this?” said Dean. “Then… Okay.”

And that was all it took. Cas leaned forward and kissed him.

Dean didn’t have time to think of it or react. The press of their lips was warm, sudden. A dangerous spark in a dry forest. As he pulled back, so did Cas, looking anxious.

“What was that?” said Dean.

Cas hadn’t looked away from Dean’s face, although there was something to the way he held his body, like he expected to run. “I just—” he said. His voice was every bit as gravelly and flat as usual, but he sounded uncertain, a rare note. “I…”

Cas had kissed him. Dean’s brain and body couldn’t make sense of it, couldn’t work together in any sensible way any longer. His heart started pounding. The heat of the day made sweat rise on the back of his neck and above the lip of his mouth. He was frozen but he was supposed to be doing something. Running from this, striking out, kissing Cas, jumping into the river.

“I shouldn’t’ve—” Cas looked stricken now. “I want to help you and it’s not— I made a mistake.”

Wasn’t this Dean’s fault? Just days ago he had wrapped himself around Cas in the shade of a garden and silently begged for his affection in any shape. He’d had that untoward dream the same night. The colour rose high in Dean’s cheeks and he looked swiftly at the river. Cas hadn’t kissed him in the dream, only touched him, but already Dean’s mind was conflating the real and the imagined, completely out of his control. Dean had stared too long the night of the rain storm. He’d been wrong to and he’d made this happen and it was all because he was broken up into pieces and he got things confused and now there was this, which was too much to handle.

Next to him, Cas rested his forehead against his fist, eyes scrunching closed. “I’m sorry, Dean,” he said.

Dean’s mouth remembered the touch of their lips and wouldn’t let go. He felt they were reddened by Cas’ kiss, the same as that day in the attic, that day when enchantment poisoned itself into sharp fear and which was exactly like right now. There was something wrong with him for all of this. For the fact that he wanted to kiss Cas again and really know what it felt like. If he was damned he wanted to know what he was damned for.

“I’m sorry,” Cas said again. “I thought you were like me.”

It struck Dean for the first time what that would mean. What it would be to be like Cas. What it meant Cas was. And how if he were to say Cas was correct right now, that Dean was not like him, it didn’t feel at all true. How if he were to be able to act on what was true, that would mean giving over to what was in him. He felt so miserable and scared and all he wanted was for Cas to cover over Dean’s body with his own. To hide in Cas’ collar, in the very hollow of his clavicle, the place he’d wanted to kiss just three days ago when he stole comfort from Cas in the garden.

He dragged his gaze back to Cas, who looked equally mired in his own despair.

“Cas,” he said, not certain of what he meant to follow. And when Cas looked at him he leaned in and kissed him.

Cas lost a sound against Dean’s mouth, a melting hum. His hand found the small of Dean’s back. This kiss came with another renewed one, chasing it, then Dean bowed his head, breaking it off but not breaking away. His body shifted deeper into Cas, his hand clutching Cas’ shirt, his forehead resting against the base of Cas’ neck. Cas held onto him this time, cheek brushing against the top of Dean’s head. A hand came up to stroke through Dean’s hair.

“Cas,” he said wretchedly.

“It’s okay,” said Cas. As much as anything could be okay. For a bare second, Dean wanted to believe it would be.

[pianokantzart]

The One To Blame

A one shot based off this discussion, so I hold @a-la-orilla-del-rio and @istadris responsible.

UPDATE: It has expanded past being a one shot and is now available on A03, (or you can continue reading it here on Tumblr): Part 2 Part 3

______ Luigi hid amongst the jagged stone and brutish architecture of Bowser's castle, thankful for the large collection of self-aggrandizing statues that provided the perfect cover, creating long dark shadows and small cramped corners he could hide in. At the same time, the decor pricked at old memories that he struggled to push aside: bound and frightened, disoriented and confused, dragged by aching wrists to where he and Bowser first met face to face. Luigi would’ve been happy to stay a thousand miles away from The Darklands for the rest of his life, but he couldn't allow his brother to embark on this rescue mission all by himself. Even if Luigi knew for certain that Mario didn't need his help, he wished to do everything in his power to see to Princess Peach's safe return. She had put her life on the line to save him once before, it was only right to do the same for her.

Luigi's head began to ache from unreleased adrenaline as he crept along the edges of the throne room, slowly venturing near enough to hear the group of voices gathered around Bowser. The small plumber tentatively peeked out from obsidian pedestal of one of the statues, and observed the unfolding scene. The King of The Koopas stood at the base of his towering throne of masonry and wrought iron, Kamek at one side, and on his other side Princess Peach, locked in an enormous gilded cage of rose gold, filled with plush pink furniture. She was safe. Unhappy, of course, but unharmed. Luigi allowed himself a quiet sigh of relief.

Bowser was commiserating with a squadron of paratroopers, the most highly decorated of them fluttering at the forefront, eye-to-eye with the king.

"The Prison Ship was forced to make an emergency landing near The Valley Fortress,” the soldier explained with a salute. “Word got back that Mario has disappeared, but he couldn’t have gone far! We'll recapture him soon enough."

Hearing this, Luigi couldn't help but smile. The Prison Ship was where he and Mario were forced to split up. It was where Luigi had no choice but to run for the sake of his own survival and leave his big brother behind. Mario did his best to ease Luigi's fears, swearing his own safety and promising that he'd figure out a plan. It appeared Mario was true to his word, and now Bowser's forces were running themselves ragged trying to track him down. It was as good a spur-of-the-moment plan as any: Mario would hold the attention of The Dark Lands while he– Luigi – freed Princess Peach. They’d escape the castle, regroup with Mario, and find their way back to The Mushroom Kingdom. Simple. Easy. No problem.

The paratrooper proved himself worthy of his position as he remained firm in his saluting position, not even flinching as Bowser began to shout.

"Don't recapture him! Sparing him at all was a mistake! Give the order to kill on sight!" "No!" The harsh voice of Princess Peach, normally so calm and gentle, was startling to hear as she slammed her fists against the cage door. The sincerity in her upset appeared to flip a switch in Bowser's manner, evoking something resembling sympathy. He dismissed his troops, and as they fluttered out of the room Bowser turned to his beloved, hands held out plaintively.

"Peaches! I know it's hard to accept, but this is what is best for us, I promise you!" "Us?!" Peach huffed, struggling to maintain her royal composure. "There is no us! Ever since we've met you have done nothing but try to destroy everything I care about!" "Exactly! we've been fighting each other for so long when we should have been fighting for each other! You didn't even have time to recognize my good qualities, just like it took me so long to finally recognize yours..." He looked almost pitiable, big-eyed and pleading as he kneeled down and held his hands over his heart. "But you'll see! I'll prove to you how much of a match we are. You'll forget those silly, fleeting feelings you had for Mario-" "No! I… There are no feelings, Bowser!" Luigi couldn't help but feel Peach's voice lacked conviction, but he hoped that the draconic tyrant would take her for her word as she continued... "We're friends. Just friends, don't you understand? And Mario doesn't love me either. The only reason he ever accompanied me was because he was worried about his brother."

A strange silence hung in the air. Luigi felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and Peach placed her hands to her mouth in slow realization of the dangers of what she'd just said. Before she could make an effort to undo her mistake, Bowser broke the silence.

"His brother... Luigi," he muttered in a voice thick with revulsion. "So, he's the one Mario told you he was after? And if the gossip that floats between your palace guards is worth believing, Luigi is also the one who first discovered the warp pipe that led to our world."

"Bowser, please don't." Peach begged, "he's my friend too." "Why!?" Luigi couldn't help but cover his ears as Bowser's voice shook the throne room. Smoke poured from his nostrils, his chest heaving with rage. "He didn't train with you! He didn't travel alongside you! He didn't go to the ends of the earth to win you over! All he ever did was jump in at the last second to save Mario!" That final sentence triggered a fresh wave of anger. His eyes flashed red, clawed hands curling in front of him like he was trying to wring an invisible throat. "Mario. I'd have already killed him if it wasn't for his stinkin' brother! I knew he was trouble since he first snuck into my territory... speaking to me like I was an idiot! Telling lies!... Telling me that I... I wasn't good enough for you!" And just like that, his fearsome roars tapered off into the whimpering tone of a spurned teenager. Luigi– backing a little further into the shadows cast by the stone– never felt so confused in his life. Hearing a creature of such fearful, unrestrained power act so hurt over a mere insult was bewildering in and of itself, but Luigi was certain he hadn’t said anything like that. He still couldn't quite remember how that conversation went... the memory was too terrifying to recall between the moment he admitted his brother's name and the moment he was thrown to the floor, but surely he didn’t say that!

Then, beyond the haze of confusion, a new realization dawned on him… Kamek had been awfully silent. Luigi glanced about the throne room, slowly realizing that he had been so focused on Peach and Bowser’s conversation that he didn’t see where Kamek had disappeared to. That was when an innate sense of danger pricked at his heart, and a familiar voice spoke from behind him: “Well well well! Speak of the devil…” On instinct Luigi ducked to the side, dodging a blast of magic that would have rendered him immobile. With equal swiftness, he followed it up with a kick to Kamek’s hand that sent his wand flying across the room. Luigi would’ve congratulated himself for his quick reflexes, had the heavy thud of fast-approaching footsteps not robbed him of all sense of victory.

The struggle was brief. A clawed hand came down, narrowly dodged. Luigi flinched and stumbled as bits of rubble from the damaged statue pelted his face, and that moment of half-blindness was all that Bowser needed. Next thing Luigi knew, a familiar, scaly palm clamped down around his torso and lifted him into the air, squeezing so tight he couldn’t even take a breath.

 “Kamek!” Bowser’s voice called. “Yes, sire?” The wizard asked meekly, fixing his glasses and rubbing his sore hand while crossing the room to recollect his wand. “Keep an eye on my bride to be. I have a score to settle” Luigi felt his body jolted about like a ragdoll with every step Bowser took toward the doors leading out of the room. The plumber struggled, kicking his feet and twisting his body, trying to wrench himself free until Bowser’s grip tightened further, and Luigi’s inability to breathe turned into a sharp pain that made him fear being snapped in half. He went passive then, falling limp in hopes of buying himself some time. Head bowed, he stared hopelessly at Princess Peach as the distance between them grew wider. He mouthed an attempt at an apology. The Princess stretched a hand through the bars, as though if she strained against her cage hard enough she could break through and come to his aid. “Don’t hurt him! Please!” she begged. “We’re both royals, aren’t we? Let’s negotiate! Bowser!”

Her words went unheeded. She only had time to call Bowser’s name once more before her voice was cut off by the heavy doors slamming shut, leaving Bowser alone with his new scapegoat clasped tightly in the palm of his hand.