#maybe even a green who had formed new connections

[pintrestparasite]

a simple what-if

what if green was in hideout for much longer

what if green had been there for a year

what if their crew had tried everything they could think of from splitting into pairs to staying as a group to relentlessly scouring every level but the lower ones because to them nobody could have survived that fall

what if one day they finally repaired weapons and got disguises of their own and found green on the lower levels with the impostors

they would find someone entirely new

they would find a green that puts hisses and snarls into their voice because that's what everyone else does and it helps them blend in

they would find a green that is territorial over their stuff because that was the only way to keep it

they would find a green who resorted to immoral measures, whatever they may be, to keep themselves and glitchy fed and healthy

they would find a green who lost hope on escaping long ago

[flamingpudding]

Triple Identity Crisis

Danny had a problem. If it was a big one, he couldn't tell yet but he was partially sure Clockwork was at fault for this. Or at least he wanted to blame his ghostly godparent who most likely just wanted to cause some chaos for entertainment with the pretext of helping Danny. Which was a very likely reason for why Danny had a problem right now.

As it was the former Fenton now Fenton-Wayne boy was pacing his room in the Manor trying to think what is next step should be, because as it was his 'new' family –Did new still apply if he was living with them for a little more than a year now? – knew him under three different Identities now. And to top it all off they were not aware that the three identities were all pretty much connected as one.

For one. His family, knew him as Danny, the space obsessed kid, who became a meta because of his ectobiology science obsessed parents and his teenager recklessness. A kid that was actually a genius if you gave him enough time for school and could make you anything out of a ancients be damed toaster. That was the Danny they mainly knew. The Kid they took in, let in on the family business and then chose, to the happiness of Alfred and dismay of some of his 'new' siblings, normal life over vigilante life.

Then they knew Phantom. A dead ghost hero that was helping the Justice League and Young Justice to help them deal with the aftermath of the huge fallout caused by the GIW, Guys in White or rather Ghost Investigation Ward. And while Danny didn't know he had apparently worked with nearly his entire family and that time he knew it now. Which was awkward because he had pretty much pestered one of his elder brothers about his condition until Red Hood, aka Jason, let Phantom help him. Ancient, things might get awkward if that secret is lifted. He had done a lot of things Batman, Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, Orphan and Robin had scowled him for. Thankfully they only thought of him as a dead teen hero and didn't know what a Halfa was. So they didn't make the connection, and he had yet to meet Signal, aka Duke as Phantom.

Now came the third identity, which totally did not happen by his choice. After all officially he hadn't accepted the throne yet and would only get it once he was dead dead not half dead. To bad ancient texts don't care about formalities. So when trouble hit the fan really hard the Justice League Dark had the bright Idea of getting some other worldly help. Which in other words was summoning the Ghost King. Oh boy, was it fun to learn that way that Danny could get summoned against his will. Clockwork did not give him that warning when he told him about the future of his afterlife. But best of all? Oh he doesn't get summoned as Phantom which would have made things maybe a bit easier, oh no. Life wasn't easy. He got someone's in some as a super weird black-green mass of a formless eltrich body with sharp teeth, claws and glowing green eyes with no pupils or irises. Hell Danny even scared himself when he saw his own reflection in a window and he didn't have a single idea how to change his form.

Let it be known that Danny acted then on purpose like he didn't know a single person in that room he had been summoned in right out of his bed and that he wasn't staring at his adoptive father like he needed help who interpreted his stare as the ghost king sizing him up. And Danny knows this because Dick had a good laugh about that at the dinner table with the rest of his siblings.

Now a smart person would probably come clean to his family and explain to them the three identities they knew him under and how they are connected.

To bad Danny wasn't 'smart' when it came to things like that. No in his panic and newfound awkwardness of the situation of what he had done on separate occasions with his identity as Phantom AND Ghost King, he decided to keep acting like he didn't knew them personally like the truely does. Really how hard could that be? Besides he liked the way his family treated him now. He didn't want to get treated differently because he was half dead, or a Ghost King. He liked that his family was treating him as plain old Danny who had an obsession with space and was their quirkily little brother with powers.

So that gave him even more incentive to keep the act up. Even if it was hard at times, especially if he got summoned out of nowhere. It would be easier if he could get a hang of the duplication power. He even had played with the thought of getting one of his ghost rogues to help but his family was perceptive. Maybe not perceptive enough to realise that all three identities were one and the same person but they would notice if Danny acted just slightly different or if Phantom was more of then usually. But somehow he still managed to keep it up.

But it was the hard way that he learned, Danny was bad at doing the 'talking' and realized that maybe Jazz was right and he was going to slip up one day causing huge misunderstandings like right now.

He stared down at Batman and Nightwing in his Ghost King form. Red Hood had his guns pulled on him, Wonder Woman and Superman looked like they where going to try to pull back Batman any second now while Nightwing, maybe at first was going to try to calm down the bat but Danny was pretty sure the eldest bat kid was now fiercely glaring at him too. He was also pretty sure the only reason he didn't see Red Robin or Robin threaten him too was because their super friends were somehow holding them back. For their own or his safety he doesn't know at the moment.

Because apparently the Bats did not fear fighting otherworldly beings to protect one of their own.

"What did you just say about Danny Fentons death?!" Batman grunted out and Danny just knew his adoptive father was glaring at him. Ancients Danny cursed his brain to mouth filter right now. As he had the collective hero scene before him staring at his Ghost King form. Would this be a good or bad moment to come completely clean or maybe he should find some kind of philosophical bullshit of 'All things death belong to him'....

[twstedstoryshop]

FINALLY, I return properly. Kind of. Reason I've been away for so long was because of insane convention season and also had this bad boy in the works. This is one of two commissions done for a friend. Hope you all can enjoy yourselves for the crumbs I produce. -SK

CONTENT WARNING: Blood, violence, depressed s/o, and mentions of toxic past relationships.

Your New Boyfriends Runs Into Your Ex

While Rook Hunt was one of many to find camaraderie in a den of villains, that didn’t mean chivalry was dead to him. Certainly not him.

Under his keen gaze, he knew that when a certain topic was broached, you would shy away instantly. Paled knuckles, a panicked gaze, and your bottom lip near to splitting open by how badly you chewed down.

It was like he was seeing a rabbit or deer caught in a trap, frantic with no escape. Though his heart had been trained to a perfect steel and not feel for his quarry, when he sees that look in your eyes, all defenses fall away.

The topic? Well, the worries of what the future held for you. Moreso in far off days. Would you continue to have your friends by your side? Would someone ever cherish you? Have a deeper connection?

For Rook, it was a no-brainer because of course! Who else was more worthy of adoration and praise than his dear petite grâce? As he would declare this in all his usual grandeur, a small smile would form on your lips, but that happiness never reached your eyes.

Doubt clouded that sweet gaze of yours. In its own way, seeing such clear eyes be veiled by sadness was heartachingly beautiful. Yet it was a beautiful scene Rook couldn’t bear to behold for too long.

When it came to keeping track of you, Rook was extra considerate. If one can call it that… In his mind, he kept careful track of those you interacted with. He watched your mannerisms, your dialogue, anything amiss he would file it away. But for the longest time, it didn’t seem like an outside force was troubling you.

For a moment, Rook considered that whatever wounded your heart was a scar from a distant past he had yet to uncover. What he didn’t expect was said wound abruptly appearing on a normal day.

From a vantage point, perhaps from a second story window or among the trees that dotted the campus, Rook had caught sight of you stone-still on your walk. Before you, an NRC student he couldn’t recall. He didn’t really have time to register the man when Rook had just attention all on you.

Your wide, hollow eyes. Your chest rising and falling rapidly. How you froze so perfectly under the gaze of this man. It was a scene Rook was all too familiar with. Prey terrified beyond its own mind to run, to hide, or even fight.

Your rational mind couldn’t comprehend what your ex was even saying to you as panic held you in its overbearing clutch. The world grew dizzying and just when you felt like your heart would give out, right then and there, a broad arm wrapped around your shoulders.

“Ah, there you are, ma petite grâce. I was looking all over for you. You made me a bit worried, you know!”

It was hard to look up at him as Rook’s hat was tipped just enough for the shadows to mask his features. But your ex needed only one glance for the role of prey to be forced on him. Green eyes with a gaze so sharp, so precise like a notched arrow perfectly aligned to fire, bored right into him.

It didn’t take much time before the ex backpedaled away with his tail between his legs, now only leaving you with Rook.

Rook would face you, gripping your forearms firmly. His expression, soft though. He called out for you, trying his best to snap you from your daze. When you finally realized it was him now before you, your body moved on its own before you could think. A heaviness made you fall against his chest. You shivered, maybe tears and sobs escaping you.

Rook held you so close against him. Like he was cradling a sculpture of the most delicate porcelain. As if one scratch or knock would crumble you into fine dust.

A single hand held the back of your head protectively, letting you weep as much as you wanted against his shirt. His chin nestled along your hair. You would be so blissfully unaware of Rook’s gaze. A complicated stare into space as his mind swam with many thoughts.

Rook always found beauty in the oddest of places. Yet for the first time, there was something Rook found utterly detestable. A vile image that was a blot in his picturesque vision and that was your ex, the source of your pain. But from that ugliness, he did find a most exquisite sensation. A drive to hunt. An unyielding need to protect you.

While he couldn’t spring into action earlier, his quarry was marked. A hunter is patient and he can wait as long as he needs to for one slip-up, one more attempt to dare get near you, and Rook would be sure to let loose a vicious arrow.

There is a tension between you and Floyd on certain days. While most times, it would be all fun and games, just him and his little Shrimpy. But Floyd wasn’t blind to the weight you carried.

It would irritate him on a dime when you obviously had thoughts clouding your mind. So much so that you fidget anxiously or not even pay attention to him. His sharp voice would call over the din of thoughts and you’d see the eel practically inches away from your face.

His dual colored eyes glared at you and a slight frown pulled at his lips. “Geez, what the hell is goin’ on with you!?” He doesn’t mean to be so crass, but to see his Shrimpy unsettled, it frustrated him. 

Moreso that he can’t exactly pinpoint what was going on with you, that he can’t just squeeze it to a pulp and boom, no more problems!

He knew you had your walls and such walls took time to lower to let him in. Floyd had the patience as a waiting moray eel, but if he had the proactiveness to actually act upon his patience? That’s a whole other story. When it came to you, he just wanted to see you happy and unbothered. All reasoning would flutter out the window.

It may or may not have taken a lot of squeezing and thinly veiled threats to your friends for them to fess up information you couldn’t bear to unload on Floyd. A common name would be passed around, an ex from your past. Just the thought that someone else had their hands on you nearly made Floyd break bones if not for the pitiful yelps of your friends to release them in time.

Questions whirled in that skull of his. Why have you never brought this up to him? What did this ex do to you that made you shy away from him? Where was this scumbag now? All of these worries would bleed into his daily life and if it weren’t for Jade and Azul to straighten him out, he would have been throwing tantrums left and right.

It wasn’t until one day that all his frustrations would come to a boiling point into a final, satisfying crescendo. At least for him.

Work was to be done at Mostro Lounge. Floyd was on duty to be a waiter along with yourself. Both of you have opted to be in an awkward silence in your relationship and it was evident by how you both avoided one another, unsure of how to really talk about your issues.

Floyd had taken an order from a particular student, one he could easily sniff out as a rude bastard by his mannerisms and his tones. But if Floyd’s temper got the better of him, he’d never hear the end of it from Azul. He would hand off the order to you to at least serve drinks.

Everything seemed normal until suddenly a glass shattered. All eyes shifted to you who shivered in place. The tray rattled in your hands and below you a cascade of broken glass.

“Y-you…” “The fuck…? What the hell are you doing here!? And look at what you did to my drink! You’re still incompetent as ever, tch!”

You wanted to cry, scream, run away. You felt so ashamed, being treated like garbage again from an ex you swore you’d never let walk all over you again. But at the height of stress, you couldn’t bring yourself to stand up for yourself. Pathetic, absolutely pathetic…

That is until a sing-song, nonchalant voice slid right up behind you. “Ahhhh, what a shame. I apologize on the behalf of our lil waiter here. They’re just nervous is all. Here~ Why don’t I make it up to ya? I can serve ya a drink right here, right now. On the house~” “Finally, some decent fucking service…”

You looked up at Floyd and saw that dangerous glint in his eyes. How his pupils honed on the poor fool as his smile widened so tightly across his face. He reached for a spare glass that was left on the table, presented it with a flourish to your ex, and coyly said, “Readyyyy~? Watch carefully.”

Then, his hand flew so quick to grab a clump of your ex’s hair and slammed it squarely on the glass. The crunch of glass, your scream, and the screech of chairs being pushed back as patrons jumped.

“GYAHAHA, YOU LIKE IT!? IT’S MOSTRO LOUNGE’S OWN PERSONAL RED. Ahhhh, but the red comin’ from you? Pfft, it ain’t worth the shit under my shoe…” Your ex could barely register what was even being said to him from the glass embedded in his face and blood gushing from his nose and broken lips.

Hands covered your mouth in terror as you could barely register what was happening. From panicked students screaming to Azul and Jade holding Floyd back from beating the poor ex to a pulp. All you could really register was the horrifying satisfaction deep in your chest, seeing the one who hurt you so much battered under the hand of someone who protected you…

Leona has his own ways of caring but most of the time, if you cannot read between the lines, it may come off as uncaring.

He does care, but don’t expect a coddling man rushing to be your knight when you are feeling sorry for yourself. The last thing he wants to do is pity you as he knows all too well the humiliation of being pitied.

Instead he observes, he watches, he’s keen to everything you do that isn’t a part of your daily life. In sly ways, he tries to break your moments of dissociating. He calls your name sharply to snap you out of your funk and gives you a menial task.

Telling you to maybe preen his mane, join Ruggie on an errand, what have you. It’s better to keep yourself occupied than whatever is plaguing your mindscape.

Sometimes, he will even abruptly lean against you, his weight toppling the both of you over. Even if you protest under him, he will insist he’s really tired and just wants something warm beside him to help him sleep. In truth, it’s just another way to stop your self-deprecating thoughts.

Though he will speak up in annoyance if your depressed thoughts start to bleed into your relationship. It will sting, but he means well. He tells you gruffly that he’s not in the mood to lay next to baggage. He wants only his partner, dammit.

You may argue, you may not, it depends on how you react but at the end of it, one way or another, you’re going to have to face him and this problem that hangs over you.

If you take time before approaching him or spill everything in one go, he will wait patiently and listen. But cowardice by running away he won’t accept and would want answers promptly.

One way or another, the truth has to come from you and you explain the thoughts that coil around you like a petulant serpent. A name and face that digs into your chest horribly. Your ex and the ways he has hurt you in many ways.

Leona listens stoically, letting you share your story before acknowledging and commending the strength it took for you to finally admit this. He knows all too well the pains of the past, he shares in your frustrations. But the past stays in the past for a reason.

Now it’s you and him now. You define yourselves here in the present. If anyone says otherwise? Well, he’d like to see them try.

Who would have known that such a time would come so soon when one day, someone had the gall to start harassing you right in the Savanaclaw dorm.

That same face that always lingered around you like a ghost was here right now in the flesh, taunting you at the edges of the Spelldrive field. Your ex sneered at you, wondering what the hell you were doing around here during his practice hours. Had the nerve to accuse you of stalking him despite your split.

Your anger boiled your blood, your face flushed. Your nerves alighted with a burning fury that made the dorm’s dry heat pale in comparison. But your body did not respond to you. Your throat froze despite wanting to curse and yell out at your ex.

What neither you expected though while your mouth gasped for something, anything to throw at this scumbag, was a lion’s roar peeling across the field. A shadow loomed over your ex and both of you looked up to a silhouette blocking the sun and a pair of piercing green eyes.

Astride his broom, Leona stared squarely at the ex. “For a minute, I thought I heard annoying squawks from a mangy vulture, but now I just see a whelp. Having the nerve to approach my partner…”

Without missing a beat, Leona lowered himself to the ground and sauntered right over to your ex. Your ex tried to stand his ground but anyone could tell he was practically shaking in his spot.

“So.... What were you two talking about?” It was such a simple question. So trivial. But the way Leona spoke each word, it was like a pair of hungry jaws were ready to snap behind every syllable. He dared for your ex to slip up.

“N-nothing… Nothing at all… I was l-leaving…” “Hooo?” Leona’s tail whipped behind him in amusement. “So you just waltzed up to my partner and gawked at them? Nothing left your useless, flapping gums? I can hardly believe that.”

Leona’s knuckles cracked as he flexed his hand and for a quick second, you swore you saw wind and dust particles gather between his finger tips. The air felt still and you heard your ex gulp audibly from a dry throat. Then, a sudden calmness.

“But if you were just about to leave, then by all means, scurry along. I hate people wasting my time.”

To which your ex immediately did, turning on his heel, so close to make a run for it. Then, like a giant paw slamming atop a helpless mouse, Leona’s hand roughly grabbed his shoulder and stopped him.

“A warning since I’m feeling so generous today… Don’t ever let me catch you near them again. Ya hear me? Or else, I’ll make you a nice addition to the scenery. We could always add more sand and bones.” Leona cracked a toothy smirk with darkness in his eyes. His fangs glinted in the sun and it was then you truly realized the fierce lion you had taken in as your boyfriend.

[here-for-fanart]

I just realized something about Agatha All Along. Everyone who walked the Witches' Road got exactly what they wanted.

Jen went on the road to find her powers (both inner and outer), and that's exactly what she got. [She was really the only one who went specifically for power.]

Alice went on the road, not really for answers about her mother, but to end her curse. Her curse ended.

Sharon (Mrs. Hart) went on the road 'cause she wanted to go to a party. They went to a nice house, hung out, and drank wine.

Lilia went on the road, not to get her powers back, but so she could remember herself and realize her full potential as a witch (not relating to magical power, but to the power of identity).

Billy went on the road to find his brother. He found him and made it possible for his brother to come to the physical world.

Rio--yes, she technically walked the road--wanted Agatha's forgiveness. I believe that kiss was Agatha's way of saying she forgave her, even if she still couldn't face her (and Nicky) in death and became a ghost. Some might say she had to kiss her to syphon her power, but I think she could have done it another way. She chose the "kiss of Death" as her way to go. And there is the beautiful metaphor of Agatha "accepting" Death. She accepts that this is who Rio is and forgives her for having to hurt Agatha by doing her job.

Agatha, again while saying she wanted her powers back, actually wanted closure. Death would not stop pursuing her. Their history, and Billy's presence, meant that she was continually reminded of her grief over her son. In order to protect herself, emotionally, Agatha had put up walls and hid herself behind a thirst for power. It's why she says in the beginning, she's vulnerable "only physically". On the Road, Agatha became emotionally vulnerable to Billy, Rio, and even the others. And while the last trial was meant to be for the Green Witch, Agatha did it herself. Alone. She was forced to feel that sense of powerlessness once again. The Road taught her that her feelings of vulnerability, of powerlessness, what probably felt like the death of herself, would lead to new growth in the form of a connection with Billy, an understanding and forgiveness of Rio, a true connection to a coven (it was Agatha's encouragement that led most of them to discovering their own truths), and a true surrender to the powerlessness of an actual physical death. So, I guess you could say, she did gain power (the power of vulnerability). It just wasn't the kind she was expecting. But I choose to call it closure, because she "settled" a lot of what was causing her to seek magical power in the first place.

Everyone got what they wanted but maybe not in the way they were expecting.

[emsartwork]

ALL OF DAPHNE'S TRANSFORMATIONS. INCLUDING UPDATED NYMPHIX.

Previously Fairy of the Dragon Flame now Fairy of Embers. She doesn't have any transformations others than these because she was fast tracked into the nymphix path, and unlike the winx the majority of fairies don't pursue additional transformations past enchantix. (i think Daphne would be interested in Dreamix tho, so maybe I'll draw that eventually.

Her major color shifted after dying and being revived, which is shown in her winx and enchantix.

other lore and design notes below!

I changed her major color from orange/yellow to more of a teal/green because. she just doesn't look good in yellow I'm sorry I really tried but it wasn't working. Also little updates to her hair color, nothing huge tho. Daphne's primary motifs are a branching "Y" shape and a double oval/tear drop. She's a pants when possible girlie and a one set winger(yes her nymphix looks like it have multiple wings but they all merge into one stem on each side) . Her scars from her Sirenix being ripped out of her caused her winx/enchantix to change a little to cover them(mostly seen in the arms) due to insecurity. Her Dryadix/nymphix flower is a daffodil! because pun Daph-Daff, and Daffodils symbolize rebirth and new beginnings (also creativity, energy, resilience, forgiveness and vitality). Her Harpix wings aren't super specificly patterned, but she has darting wings common in small song and seed birds (robins, finches, brown birds etc.) the coloring is referential of a Shrike (also called a Butcher Bird), because Daphne was. incredibly dangerous and if she had sided with the ancestral probably would have been given a moniker similar to Butcher of Domino or Daphne the Slaughterer. (some people do call her these but its mostly among people who dislike Domino/The Royal Family.)

Lore! Daphne doesn't have a great sense of self, she was planned as a necessary successor to Marion/the dragon flame in a period as the ancestral witches were escalating their attacks and search for the dragon flame. Bloom was a back up baby in case both Daphne and Marion got dead and basically worked as intended haha. Daphne was also much more publicly involved in the kingdom than many of the other royals in winx (Stella, Aisha, Krystal and even Galatea to an extent all had rather sheltered upbringings) in a way Daphne is much more like Sky and Thoren in the since that none of them really had the space to develop their own personality outside of their familial duty.

Daphne's 1st winx and enchantixes are as direct a copy of her mom's Enchantix as you can get with transformations, right down to the more greenish tint of her major color. Growing up Marion used her fairy form liberally, so that, combined with being the next Dragon Flame holder left a deep impact on Daphne's subconscious. Daphne was also heavily influenced by Faragonda during her Alfea and Nymphix Quest years, but since she was older this isn't as deep an influence. After being revived, Daphne's years of defining herself as her connection to Bloom causes her major color to shift more blue in response to her trauma. Daphne is slowly starting to develop a sense of self outside of her titles/connections but it's unlikely her major color will shift again unless she has another major trauma.

(for the record the Winx do have trauma over the timeline I have laid out that would potentially cause their major colors to shift but I didn't do that for a couple reasons 1, their colors are iconic and make them easily recognizable as characters; 2, I'm a tired bitch. )

[innerfare]

Ace’s Type

Summary: A collection of random headcanons describing Ace's type

Genre: Fluff

CW: None // SFW

———

Someone who knows what it's like to be a freak, to be cast out from society. (I'm imagining him with a girl from Skypiea with cute little wings, maybe even antennae, who was treated much like a mermaid and hunted for her unusual appearance and was maybe rescued by Ace; might need to write a fic about this.)

Due to a childhood crush on a certain barmaid, low-key has a thing for green-haired women. It isn’t essential, but if a woman has green hair, she possesses a unique ability to turn him into a blushing mess, which he finds annoying considering he so quickly grew accustomed to turning them into blushing messes. Will fight anyone who teases him about his green hair weakness as it’s actually something of a sensitive topic for him. (Even had the slightest crush on Zoro when he met the Straw Hats for the first time, wouldn't have initiated anything with the swordsman but wouldn't have turned him down, either.) 

The most important thing for Ace is freedom, would have to be with someone who values it just as highly as he does (not just for him, but for themselves, too). Could easily be a one girl kind of guy (trust issues, wants something constant, steady, and dependable) but doesn’t want to settle down with that person. Rather, wants that person to run around the world with him. If you want to stay home and wait for him to come back, fine, but he'd prefer you go with him.

Someone who has a way with words. He doesn’t, so he’d think of your ability to put words to thoughts and feelings he’s had his entire life as some form of magic. 

Someone who thinks he hung the moon. He won’t understand why you think that, but your starry-eyed devotion to him will awaken something in him. Someone who giggles at his dumb jokes, who stands in awe and says, “whoah, cool,” when he shows off a new move, who lights up when he enters the room. Someone who thinks it’s cute when he swoops in and steals food off their plate, who will playfully punch his arm, someone who laughs when he throws them over his shoulder. Someone with a youthful energy.

But the youthful energy can't veer into immaturity. He wants and needs someone wise beyond their years, maybe even an old soul, someone who counsels him against acting rashly without nagging him to stop taking risks entirely. Someone who understands he's a risk taker and has measured criticism of that rather than a complete opposition to it.

Someone who understands that he struggles with emotional vulnerability and will meet him where he is. Also, someone who applauds him when he does put himself out there, someone who will never judge him for his feelings or reject his attempts at connecting. Someone who has very high emotional intelligence. 

He secretly, desperately craves the softness he never got in his childhood. Being cradled as he sleeps, having his hair brushed off his forehead, having food prepared and served for him, someone fussing over his little scrapes and cuts, etcetera.

Sweet. Wants someone who smiles/lights up when they see him, who says please and thank you for every little thing. Someone with very good manners and a singsong voice like Makino. Someone tough enough to negotiate for and take up space aboard a pirate ship, but without being callous and cold. Someone soft and warm, who doesn’t let the ugliness of the world get under their skin and is optimistic about the future- not just their own future, but his future, too. 

Someone very observant. He has a lot of trauma and baggage that he never talks about, and he would fall head over heels for someone who can read between the lines. 

That being said, someone on the quieter side. Doesn’t want to be constantly asked if he’s okay, but wants someone who will notice he’s not and find a way to help him through it. 

Finally, someone who gets flustered when he flirts with them. He takes great pride in his ability to make you blush. If you're the type with cheeks that flush pink, even better.

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[neontokyoo]

(nsfw or not) Halsin (elf form) in heat from bear mating season and dry humps or ferally takes tav? (consented obviously)

Pairing: Halsin x Fem!Tav

Genre: smut

Summary: Halsin’s animalistic behavior is too much to bear

Warnings: I’m unable to write rough sex while keeping Halsin in character, rough animalistic sex, this wasn’t proofread because I’m tired and more focused on getting this posted before I forget about it and never do it.

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It was that time of year. Halsin couldn’t stand being around anyone right now. All the different smells in the air were making him fucking crazy. Despite not being an actual bear, the Druid found his bear from becoming a part of him over the past few years. The more time he spends in his bear form, the less control he has over the bear in certain situations. And this was one of those situations.

Running the grove was incredibly hard today. Usually mating season wasn’t a huge pain in his ass. Sure, he was always horny and more sensitive than normal, but usually he was able to handle it on his own. This year, however, was different. Maybe it was because of the new adventurer who had been staying at the grove for a while, while they planned their next move. That sounded about right. Ever since Tav showed up, he’s found it much harder to control the beast within him. He hasn’t been this turned on in over a century.

Halsin let out a frustrated groan as he felt his arousal getting stronger. His cock was rock-hard by now and his pants were painfully tight. How the fuck was he supposed to be in charge here if everyone was looking at him like he just crawled out of hell? Obviously, the tension was visible. In several ways. The way he walked like he had a stick up his ass, the way he was grabbing onto everything when he had to sit down, his grip so tight that his knuckles were changing to a ghostly white color. Everyone could tell something was wrong with him, but nobody said a thing.

It got to the point where his only options were to either talk to Tav about his current situation, or retire to his room for the night and fix it himself. And he found the first option to be too embarrassing. So, the elf went back to his room and began to undo his pants. Gods, just undoing the zipper felt much more comfortable than his cock straining against his pants.

But of course right when he was about to take care of his problem, there was a knock on the door. Halsin groaned out of frustration as he quickly put his pants back on and straightened himself up before opening the door. His body tensed as he saw her waiting on the other side. He wasn’t sure if he could hold back much longer now that she was so close to him.

Tav gave him a concerned look, opening her mouth to speak before he harshly grabbed the girl by her wrist and pinned her to the wall of his room, finally burying his nose in the crook of their neck.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his voice even trembling. “I’m sorry, my love… I don’t know what’s happening right now.”

“Halsin, what’s going on?” Tav arched her back, a soft moan escaping her lips. She couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. She wanted to pull away, but her body craved the connection, the intimacy.

Halsin's breathing grew heavier, and he pulled his face from her neck, his eyes flashing green with hunger. "I need you, Tav," he whispered hoarsely, his voice no longer the calm and sweet one she had grown accustomed to. "Please let me have you. I’m sorry, I’m not myself right now.”

Tav hesitated for a moment, her eyes locked with his, before nodding. She bit her lip, the anticipation making her body tremble. Halsin wasted no time as he quickly undid her armor, his fingertips brushing against her dampness. Tav shivered as another small moan escaped her lips. She knew exactly what was happening, and maybe Halsin wasn’t the only one acting like a bitch in heat. Her own arousal betrayed her.

"So wet for me," Halsin breathed, his voice thick with lust. He pulled his hand away, continuing to undress her until she was completely exposed before him, then swiftly unbuckled his trousers, freeing his throbbing cock. Tav's eyes widened at the sight, her arousal intensifying.

Of course, she and Halsin have been flirting back and forth with each other for a while now, occasionally teasing each other and stealing glances. But she never would have thought she’d be able to have him. Nor did she think it would happen like this.

Halsin hoisted Tav onto the table, spreading her legs wide enough to expose her glistening heat. He positioned himself between them, his cock nudging against her entrance. Tav's hands clenched sage green tablecloth, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. “Halsin…. Please….”

Halsin's eyes flashed with a primal hunger as he took in the sight of Tav's naked body spread out before him on the table. The scent of her arousal filled the air, driving him wild with desire. He couldn't hold back any longer. With a low growl, he thrust his hips forward, burying himself deep inside her tight, wet heat.

"Fuck, Tav," he grunted, his voice strained with pleasure. "You feel so good. So fucking perfect."

Tav cried out, her back arching off the table as she was filled completely by Halsin's thick, hard cock. It stretched her walls deliciously, sending sparks of pleasure racing through her body. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper.

The new position made the girl let out a loud, pornographic moan as the elf continued to pound into her, hitting her most sensitive areas while also grinding against her clit.

“Halsin…. Fuck-“

Halsin's hands gripped Tav's hips tightly, his body moving in a primal rhythm as he continued to fuck her. His thrusts grew harder and faster, his muscles straining with each powerful movement. Tav's moans grew louder and more desperate, her nails digging into his back.

Tav's words cut off as the elf's lips crashed onto hers, his tongue invading her mouth in a passionate kiss. Halsin's cock throbbed within her, his animalistic hunger for her not abating. He continued to pound into her, their bodies slapping together in a wet, rhythmic symphony.

Usually, Halsin wouldn’t be so rough if it wasn’t for his animalistic desires that were taking over him. There was just something about Tav that made her absolutely intoxicating, making it incredibly hard for Halsin to control himself.

Tav's mind was spinning, the intensity of the moment overwhelming her. She could feel her orgasm building with each thrust, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter within her until it was nearly unbearable. She could feel Halsin's own climax approaching as well, his thrusts becoming more frantic, his grunts more desperate.

With a final, powerful thrust, Halsin's body tensed, his cock pulsing deep within her. Wave after wave of his seed filled Tav, the sensation pushing her over the edge. Her own orgasm crashed through her, her inner walls gripping Halsin tightly as she cried out his name.

Halsin's body shuddered as he continued to fill her, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Slowly, he pulled out of her, his cock leaving a trail of cum as it slipped from her slick walls. Tav lay there, panting, her body trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm.

Halsin leaned down to kiss her forehead, his breathing finally starting to even out. "I'm sorry," he whispered again, his voice soft and gentle once more. "But I needed that."

Tav looked up at him, a small smile playing on her lips. "Don't be sorry, Halsin," she whispered, her voice thick with contentment. "I needed it too."

The two of them stayed there for a moment, basking in the afterglow of their passionate encounter. Halsin helped Tav down from the table, wrapping a blanket around her shivering form. They shared a tender kiss, the tension between them dissipating.

[hugsandchaos]

Random bit, but does anyone else wonder if ghosts from the ghost zone react to humans similarly to how humans react to ghosts? Like sometimes I just want to write Danny in human form around Frostbite in a manner that’s kind of from Frostbite’s prospective, and describe Danny’s human form in a way that connects to the living world or at least partially does. Let me just show you what I mean.

It was odd for Frostbite, seeing the Great One’s human form for the first time. True, he literally asked for it during the checkup, and he’s met Sam and Tucker before, but something about this was different. Perhaps it was the simple fact that Frostbite had only seen him in ghost form until that point, maybe it had something to do with him being a halfa. Who was to say when there was so, so little information on Halfas?

Hair the color of freshly fallen snow, much like the fur of Frostbite and his people, now turned as dark as a shadow. Perhaps even darker, just like Sam’s. Unlike Sam, however, Danny’s eyes had a different color. A shade of green that both practically and often literally glowed just like the ectoplasm all ghosts were made of had been replaced by a light blue. Looking at them reminded the chief of ice, and he was sure that any glare from them would feel like ice piercing a ghost’s very core. His skin was a little darker now, but Danny still appeared a little paler than Sam.

Looking at Danny now was like looking at a glimpse of a world where everything was different. Frostbite knew that the two realms were obviously different, but it felt more... perhaps “dangerous” was a good word, or “mysterious”. The thumping of his heart was picked up on more easily by the machines used to read his core vibrations, and the thermometer rose gradually until it reached 94 degrees. That temperature was extremely dangerous for a ghost with an ice core, as the average temperature for one was between 10 to 0 degrees. And yet Danny Phantom’s recorded body temperatures were always between 32 and 40, which was by itself alarming enough. Now it was all the way at 94?!

“Young Phantom, are you alright?! The thermometer says that your body temperature is 94 degrees!” Frostbite exclaimed.

Danny nodded and smile a little, his new ghost teeth, which Sam and Tucker called fangs despite them being rather small, were visible for a short while.”That’s actually close to the average healthy temperature for a human, which is 97 to 99 degrees, but I guess being half ghost lowered it a bit? It’s when the body temperature reaches 100 or higher that we should worry.” He said.

“...I need to update your record.” Frostbite said after a moment’s silence. Once the checkup was over, perhaps he could ask the Great One to bring some medical books on humans to better understand the living, and dead, paradox that was Halfas.

“My what now?” Danny asked.

[redroomreflections]

Hair Care

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Request: Bestie I'll always come with requests :D how about in the early TLH days with Nat asking r to teach her how to do R's hair after maybe R stayed with her at the compound for the first time? Very soft and gentle Nat 💕

The Loud House Universe

It was quiet at the compound, the kind of stillness that only came late at night when everyone had retreated to their rooms and the hum of the facility faded into the background. You sat cross-legged on Natasha’s bed, your fingers working through your hair in steady, practiced motions. You had come to stay with Natasha for the first time, and though the unfamiliarity of the compound felt overwhelming at times, moments like this — peaceful and soft — made it feel like home.

It's a ritual you've known all your life - the detangling, the sectioning, the careful twisting. Something was grounding about it that reminded you of home and your mother spending her weeknights doing this very process. You didn't plan on needing to do your hair at Natasha's place. You also didn't plan on the hours of lovemaking that would inevitably cause this very process right here.

A smile graced your face as you remembered the feel of her lips pressed against your own.

Natasha leaned against the doorway, her eyes never leaving yours. She had always admired how you carried yourself — the quiet confidence, the grace that came so naturally. But there was something about watching you care for your hair that felt… sacred. Each curl you tenderly worked through, each product you applied with intention, it all felt like a ritual, a language she didn’t yet understand but wanted to learn. She stood there, captivated, unsure of how to ask the questions forming in her mind.

This was Natasha’s first time with someone so different from herself, and it made her feel uncharacteristically unsure. It wasn’t just your hair — though that alone fascinated her — it was everything about you. The way you navigated the world with a different kind of strength, a resilience born from experiences she’d never had to face. There was an authenticity about you that felt grounding, in contrast to the many layers of disguise and deception she’d worn her entire life.

When Natasha allowed herself to date in the past, it was always fleeting. Simple flings, a few weeks here, a few months there. Nothing lasting, nothing too personal. Her life as a spy required distance, a self-imposed detachment. Getting close to someone had always felt like a risk she couldn’t afford. But this was different.

With you, it wasn’t about quick connections or keeping things easy. It was about learning, about appreciating the parts of you that felt foreign to her but so integral to who you were. The way you cared for your hair, and your skin, the love you put into the routines that kept you grounded — it was all new to her. Natasha’s curiosity was piqued, not just out of habit or professional interest, but because she genuinely wanted to understand. She wanted to know every part of you, even the parts that had nothing to do with her.

Her fingers twitched at her sides as she wondered how to ask. It wasn’t a simple question of wanting to learn how to braid or twist; it was about wanting to be closer, to understand this beautiful part of your life she hadn’t experienced before.

You looked up, meeting her eyes and smiling softly. She was always beautiful, but there was something about the way her green eyes looked in this moment, a tenderness to her gaze you hadn't seen before. It took your breath away.

You could feel her restlessness from the few feet away and you let out a small laugh. "You can help, you know." You reached out to her, and grabbed the comb from the bed to pass to her.

"I don't want to mess it up," Natasha said unsurely.

"Well, you didn't think about that when you were knocking my head against the headboard," You pointed out.

Natasha rolled her eyes, but a grin tugged at her lips. She stepped forward, taking the comb. "You can guide me," she suggested, settling behind you. She rested her hands on your shoulders, giving a light squeeze before trailing them down the length of your arms.

"What should I do?" she asked.

"Just keep going. Section out a little bit more and pull back," you instructed, pointing to the area where she should begin.

"Like this?" she asked, pulling gently on a section of hair.

"Yeah, and then take the comb, and run it through like this," you guided her hand with yours, showing her the motion.

Natasha smiled as she watched her hands work, focused intently on her task. This felt different than what she had done with others. In the past, her sexual exploits were mostly based in a shared understanding — a desire to fuck and not much else. But this was different. With you, everything felt heightened, each touch and look more significant than it ever had before. Natasha didn't want to hurt you, or disappoint you. She wanted to learn, to experience this with you in the same way you'd experienced everything with her.

"A braid would be nice," You offered.

"Okay," Natasha replied, following your instructions carefully.

You hummed, and closed your eyes as she worked, relishing the feel of her nimble fingers twisting through your hair.

Natasha finished, wrapping an elastic around the end of your braid.

"I know you have questions," You spoke aloud.

"How do you know?"

"It's written all over your face."

Natasha leaned forward, her chest brushing against your shoulders. She wrapped her arms around your midsection, kissing the exposed skin of your neck.

"Is this what you did when you were younger?"

You nodded.

"You're beautiful," she breathed against your neck. "All of you."

"Thank you," You murmured. "Of course back then my mom took care of it." You informed her. "She did my hair, and we watched movies."

"Tell me about them," Natasha encouraged, settling back down and wrapping her arms around your waist again.

"They were funny," You said. "Mostly things she wouldn't allow me to watch on my own. That way we could have open discussions about certain things. My favorite was Waiting to Exhale. I was attracted to Angela Bassett."

"Hmm, she's a beautiful woman," Natasha mused.

"Yeah," You said. "Haircare days weren't always my favorite but with three siblings it was always a way for me to spend time with her."

Natasha gave a gentle squeeze to your hips, encouraging you to continue.

"She was never afraid to allow me to try different hair colors, or cuts, or styles," You explained. "I went through a straightening phase in early high school. She quickly put a stop to that."

Natasha smiled. "Sounds like you two had a lot of fun together."

"We did."

Natasha kissed the back of your neck, holding her lips against your skin for a moment before pulling away.

"I want my daughters to feel the same pride in their hair and their skin," You said softly. Your relationship is still too new to talk about long-term plans together but, you'd like to think that she would be there too. "If that ever comes about."

Natasha hummed. "You're going to be a great mother."

You smiled. "I hope so," You shrug. "What's your favorite hairstyle of mine?"

"Hmm," Natasha thought for a second."I like the braids you get. The single ones in your hair what did you call them?"

"Box braids," You laughed.

"Yes! They suit you." She nodded. "I like you natural too."

"I'll have to let my hair breathe for a little," You said. "Though it's a protective style getting braids back to back can be tension-heavy."

"Protective style?"

"Yeah," You said. "You know... a hairstyle that doesn't require a lot of maintenance, or that protects the hair."

"Gotcha," Natasha nodded.

"So," You leaned back into her. "Do you want me to teach you how to care for it?"

"I would love that," She grinned.

"Okay," You nodded and then looked down at your braid.

"I love it when you share things about yourself," She said. "Especially things that mean so much to you. And, I liked this, even though I didn't know what I was doing."

You turned and looked back at her, kissing her cheek. "I love you, Nat."

Natasha smiled, a flush creeping up her cheeks. "I love you, too."

[kaivenom]

Hey may I request a spider x fem reader where it's the map scene and I said something bad about the reader ( u can make it up ) and she has atusim like quinn and the reader runs away with quinn and Darren chasing after her and neither one can make her not cry anymore so they go to spider as he's the only one they know that can make calm down as he has a big soft spot for her like he has for ant please

In need for comfort

Summary: when the map is discovered, the actual girfriend of your ex tried to make you feel bad about it. Not knowing how to handle it, you run away from everyone, until some blonde appears.

Pairing: Spencer "Spider" White x autistic!reader

Warnings: sexual themes, mention of previous smut, mean people.

A/N: i will try to write an "autistic" reader but i don't know if i will do it well so please be kind. I will guide myself by Quinni's behaviour on some scenes.

Masterlist

Five minutes ago someone screamed about some incest map and everyone started a crazy race to see what was going on, you and your friends included. Once you get there, you discovered a wall full on names and connected with lines that defined the sexual act the two persons did. Fast enough you searched for your name, discovering it's only connected with one person. You sighted with relief knowing nobody speculates about your secret relationship with Spider.

The only person they connected you with was your ex-boyfriend. The gold line of sex and the green line of... your heart skipped a beat and you couldn't catch a breath, pressure on your chest building up. The green line is for anal, your cheeks are burning from embarrasment. Everyone is laughing, you don't know about who but it feels like it's about you.

"Wow, it looks like someone it's a little slut," you can't think straight, your vision starting to blurr as you look to the wall.

The voice that sounded on the background sounded like the new girlfriend of your ex, this can't be worse. The attetion it's starting to get officially into you.

"So, you let my boyfriend enter the back door." her voice sounded closer every second. "what a fucking slut, maybe that's why he dumped you." You feel like floating, expecting to fall every moment now, not being able to continue listening to the girl, which is closer every second.

People are around moving like ghosts to you. The air is escaping and entering your lungs faster that you can asimilate, it feels like you are about to fade out while the blood rushes at high speed thru your ears.

"(Y/N)," Darren's voice sounded distant.

You don't knwo how to handle breathing, seeing or feeling anymore, your legs started moving without warning, trying to get you out of there as faster as possible. Darren and Quinn's voice following you from behind, but you don't care, you only want to run from everyone.

You get to a hidden spot, nearby some trees. Your friends got there not so long before you, keeping the distance as you place your back on the wall trying to catch your breath. Uncontrollably, you started shaking your hands and moving you head in a poor attempt to shake everyhing outside your body.

"(Y/N)," there it is, Darren's voice again, you aren't able to speak now and they know.

Movemment around you, they left you alone?, that's strange, that's sad, you started to cry again, remembering all the people that left you because you were to "strange or "difficult to treat". You never expected that from Darren since they already had Quinn as a friend.

"Here she is, i can't do anything, she is not respondind, please, do something."

Darren's voice appeared on screen but with someone new, a familiar shadow formed in front of you. It's not touching you but somehow, it has a little calming effect on you, it's Spider.

"I don't know what to do, this is not my strong point, tell me what you need." you denied with your head, unable to speak, only going back to the wall.

He got next to you, but instead of hugging you, Spider sat on the bench next to both. You didn't even realized it was there, now you know you let your legs fade out and sit abruptly on the bench with him. Suddently, your favourite song started to sound on the background, apparently Spider put it on with his phone.

Your breath finally started to calm down a little, but your heart still races to fast for your pleassure. An object got in your view, an anti estress ball. You took it between your hands, brushing slightly Spider's hands in the process. Your fingers finally stopping to move around uncontrollably as you feel how wet your cheeks are from crying.

You didn't felt all that things before, but it's a good thing you are feeling them now, it's a sign that you are regaining control. You don't know how much time has passed, but the song played all the time and Spider didn't left your side.

"Are you better now?" his voice sounded more clear that has been the previous four times he asked you, maybe you are prepaerd to answer now.

"I think ... yes." the words are difficult to get out of your mouth.

His figure moved closer, sliding himself next to you, now your shoulders touching slightly. His hand moved slowly to your thight, which makes you shiver for a moment. HIs fingers don't stop moving to your leg, they only slow down, just to make time for you to adapt.

Now his touch is firm, moving up and down with confidence, making you feel better every second he is close to you. Finally, you found the courage to look at him, a smile forming on his lips seeing you finally.

"I am glad i didn't make you feel worse."

"I think... you would do that." speaking to him is still a little difficult.

He extended his hand to interlock your fingers together, kissing your knuckles in the most gentle way. You couldn't help but smile and giggle, now you kiss his cheek making him blush.

"At least they didn't catch us." you let out a small laugh.

"Yeah, you're right."

"And don't worry, i won't leave you like that idiot, i think you aren't too much... you are just the perfect amount to me."

[jokeroutsubs]

📝ENG Translation: Elle Men Special: A Fashion Odyssey with Kris Guštin

Article written by Ajda Gregorc, published in the November/December 2024 ELLE Slovenia Magazine. Print and digital versions of the magazine are available for purchase.

Scans and English translation by @kurooscoffee, review by @weolucbasu and a member of JokerOutSubs, proofread by IG GBoleyn123.

Full article translation, scans, and Spotify link are under the cut 👇

🎧 Article available in audio form on Spotify.

Elle Men Special: A Fashion Odyssey with Kris Guštin

With Kris Guštin, the music author and guitarist of Joker Out, we escaped to another side of music, and with that, to his other passion. We talked about style and everything connected to it. There will also be no shortage of this in the band's third album, titled 'Souvenir Pop', which is released on the 15th of November—one week after the issue of Elle you’re holding now. How perfectly synchronised we are!

PHOTOS URŠA PREMIK, STYLING ALENKA BIRK

At Ljubljana’s Moderna Café, on a fresh but lovely autumn Tuesday, when everyone’s still at work or in school, he arrives in a dark green jacket with a checkered pattern, awesome trousers, and her necklace. This time, the menu is not serving music and life, but matcha and "all things fashion." I’m in a regular trench coat and a white T-shirt, but luckily he doesn’t judge people by their style—instead, the style might be what piques his interest to converse, if it's good, of course. Besides, he's the one being interviewed. So, let’s begin! AJDA GREGORC

Interviewer: When did you first discover your personal style or the field of fashion? Was it in childhood or a bit later?

Kris: I roughly divide my life into two periods: before I first held a guitar, and after. When I really got into playing and ventured into music, my world opened up in all areas. Discovering fashion definitely falls into this second period, so the post-high school era. To be completely honest, my style in high school wasn’t something I’m particularly proud of today. (laughs) My girlfriend and I still have a photo of me wearing cargo pants and a black sweater, which is a proof she truly loves me, since that look was far from the best choice. (laughs)

When did it evolve from just a aesthetic impression to self-expression?

My first contact with fashion as a form of art or expression was during our band's first music video or fashion shoot, when I realised that this is also something you need to consider as a musician. At first, it seemed to me like a fairly peripheral element, but as our career developed and we met new people who gave us more insight into this, I began to understand its significance, what I could personally gain from it, and what we as a band could gain. This quickly developed into standard practice. I was increasingly exposed to fashion; we had more and more costume rehearsals and stylings, and two years ago, we even got our first proper stylist. And then I really committed to it—at around nineteen or twenty. Before that, my philosophy was always to "just wear whatever I first find in the closet," but then I shifted to "I'll wear things that would make me stand out from others". But this process was a long one.

So, your style development with the band inspired your personal growth too? I’ve always wondered if a young person is compelled to mature in every area when so many 'big things' happen all at once, as they did for you.

Maybe you do "grow old" in terms of personality sooner. Yes, at first I wanted, and still want, to primarily express the difference or uniqueness that I feel inside myself through music, but then I discovered that this goes very much hand in hand with fashion, so I started looking for my expression there as well. Today, it's almost an equally important part of my day.

Which fashion ideas or directions attract you? You’ve probably encountered a lot of inspiration during your travels on tour, right?

Definitely, but speaking purely origin-wise, I think I’m just like any other rock musician—we draw from the rock aesthetic of the ’60s and ’70s, which was also very "in" when my fashion awareness was born. Back then, around 2016 to 2018, here were a lot of flamboyant shirts on the music scene, with a slight hippie influence, which was the starting point. Only later did I start getting interested in slightly more modern clothes. When I was younger, I found myself in street fashion, that sort of Eminem-esque, hip-hop vibe, so very baggy clothes, which I then began to reject when I made the shift toward the ’60s and a slightly psychedelic aesthetic. It makes perfect sense, as humans tend to jump between extremes. When I had worked through that style, I started discovering the aesthetics of the ’80s and late ’90s, which was also reflected in music at the time. The best example that comes to mind is Dua Lipa’s previous album, which was in the style of the “new ’80s,” and the fashion matched that as well. Today, the early 2000s style has come back, but I haven’t fully decided whether I like it or not. As a musician, I was, of course, initially inspired by other music groups. Arctic Monkeys were a big inspiration for us both musically and visually, as was the whole British rock scene, including bands like The Kooks and Oasis. That entire aesthetic has always been strongly present with us. I doubt there’s a single inspiration board at our shoots that doesn’t include a photo of one of those bands or, for instance, the Beatles. And that aesthetic has always been close to my heart, too.

Rockers have always been associated with more masculine fashion elements, while in recent years, many male musicians have been experimenting with more feminine style elements (for example, Harry Styles and Lenny Kravitz). David Bowie was already the one who back then started to blur these fashion boundaries. You, too, wear such pieces and dare to stand out with them.

It happened quite naturally, as the stylists we worked with always chose slightly more “unmanly” clothing for me. This doesn’t necessarily mean women’s clothing, but rather somewhat more androgynous pieces, which I quickly embraced. I found them interesting and appealing because there’s a lot of fresh expression in that style that I don’t find in traditional men’s clothing, though I don’t want to overdo it. I also started experimenting with them personally, choosing many more varied colours. For a while, I was very fond of pink, and lately, I’ve been playing around with orange. On the cover of the album 'Demoni', I wore an orange-pink sweater.

Are we, as an audience here, already mature enough for a musician to present his feminine side through fashion? Does that require courage?

It does, there will always be people who won’t understand you. But for me, when it comes to the stage or a shoot, I’ll wear anything, and if I feel good in it, I don’t worry about what someone thinks. When I walk around "in civilian clothes," however, especially in Ljubljana, I am still aware if I’m dressed somewhat "untraditionally." There’s a certain boundary that I still need to break within myself. On stage, it’s easier because it’s not necessarily a hundred percent my expression; I’m playing a certain character, but personally, sometimes I do need some courage to show up in a particular style. However, the awareness of being different is stronger in Ljubljana than in other parts of the Western world. For example, I never felt that way in London, but still, our capital isn’t the worst when it comes to this.

Speaking of influences, what about other artistic or cultural movements?

I love art deco, the aesthetics of the '20s and '30s, though it doesn’t influence my daily life. In terms of photography, Damon Baker’s black-and-white style is beautiful. The vintage camera aesthetic has recently won me over, which will also be reflected in our band. Musically, over the past year, I’ve been listening to old Italian chansons and older French music, chansons as well, so I’m clearly feeling very retro this year. (smile)

Will the third album visually stand out from the previous ones then?

Yes, it will be very different. In the last two, we used a lot of colours, but there won’t be as many in this one.

Style can be an excellent tool for expressing an artist's authenticity, but with increasing success, the artist can also become its slave; the line is thin. Do you ever feel the pressure of having to express your fashion style in your private life as well?

No, I’ve never felt like my style owns me; it’s always been the opposite. I’ve always felt like I want more, like I want to dress even better than the day before, especially when it comes to my music career. Perhaps style only hangs over my head a bit when I have no inspiration and would rather wear sweatpants on an ordinary, relaxed day. There’s nothing wrong with that, of course, but then I do think about what would happen if I ended up somewhere in the middle of the city dressed like that.

It seems that Joker Out has developed a distinct style despite outside influences.

Yes, today we are already very complete in our style. Others have definitely had an influence on us, and I think it’s great that each of them tried to express themselves through us – it was interesting to experience how Joker Out was seen by Ponorelli, and how Andraž Drobnič or Karlo Kirri did. Of course, there is a difference in this, but it also aligns with the development of our music and aesthetics, so all these influences are very welcome.

How much of your personal fashion identity is therefore reflected in Joker Out?

Maybe, as someone who is not an external observer, I can't answer that, but I can say that I was always one of the first to give feedback to the stylist when we were creating our outfits, approving moodboards, and so on. So, I have definitely shaped our style in a direction that suits me. On certain "blind stylings," when we just dressed up, I quickly threw something on myself and then helped look for pieces for the other band members.

What about this photoshoot, where Alenka Birk took over the styling? Did you let her take the lead with her tactics, or did you collaborate on fashion choices? How did the communication go?

I didn’t know Alenka, who, by the way, is an excellent stylist, before. She was recommended by Urša (the photographer, ed.). Later, she confided in me that she had also worked with my father. Alenka focuses on elegant men's fashion, which is a departure from this more fluid fashion; and this suited me because I had never really been photographed in a men's suit, jacket, and tie. I wanted to try something new. I hadn’t seen the outfits before the day of the photoshoot when we met in her small studio in the morning. There were nine of them in total, and we only swapped out a piece or two in at most three of the looks.

This is more of an exception than a rule in fashion photoshoots. Does that mean you felt good in them?

Yes. In some more so, obviously, but in others, you have to trust the people you're working with. When I first look in the mirror, I always keep in mind that if something isn't optimal, it doesn't mean it won’t work well on camera. Even if the pants are too short or creased, it's still worth photographing them, because the photo can be edited later, whereas on stage, it's a different story, and everything has to already be perfect in the mirror. Working with Alenka was very simple; we clicked really well, and I will definitely work with her again.

How linked are your confidence and the way you feel on stage with your styling?

Very connected. As a musician, you want to enjoy yourself as much as possible on stage, and the people who come to listen to you and pay for the ticket deserve to see you at your best, which means you have to feel good in every aspect.

You recently attended Ljubljana Fashion Week. Which of the local fashion designers do you like to follow?

As far as the Slovenian fashion scene is concerned, I’m still quite the beginner, so I only knew the designers we had worked with. This was my first time visiting the Fashion Week.

Which shows did you watch?

On the first day, all of them. I didn’t like everything, but what stuck in my mind was Sarivalenci¹ with their somewhat "country club", Lana Del Rey vibe, and golf moment. I also really enjoyed the Belgrade Fashion Week, as there was an obvious Balkan touch, which I would love to see more of in Slovenia.

¹Sarivalenci is a Slovene high fashion brand created by fashion designer Sari Valenci.

You are a fan of vintage clothes and second-hand shops. What do these pieces have for you that new ones don't?

Honestly, I don’t know if there’s an objective explanation why. I started getting into it because it was popular, and at the same time, it gives you the feeling of getting a more unique piece. At the same time, you're shopping sustainably and not contributing to the production of unnecessary new textiles on Earth, which is great, but I would be lying if I said that’s my main motivation. What I like the most is the experience of "flipping" through clothes, where each piece is different, like a treasure hunt, compared to regular stores where you "flip" through the same clothes in different sizes.

Did your mum, who comes from the Netherlands where people have been aware of this for many years, introduce you to this concept?

I wouldn’t say we talked much about it at home, but I literally lived it. This is probably true for Slovenians in general – almost all the clothes I had as a child were from older peers, or I would take something from my dad, too. When I was done with wearing the clothes, my brother would wear them too. Every piece of clothing that came into our house was passed around, which is a great practice, and it’s still like that today. My sister "stole" half of my sweaters, my mum sometimes takes something too, Maks borrows jackets from my dad, which I’ve also done myself. It's like we all share one big closet! (laughs)

So you have influenced each other’s style in your family, or rather, you still do so? Who has otherwise had the most influence on your style in the past, and who does today?

I don’t remember ever looking at my parents as role models in this regard, as I didn’t really think about it back then, but they definitely influenced me, at least subconsciously. When I see how my mom dresses today, I see parallels with my own style, so she probably did influence me, perhaps more than my dad. As for street style, which I mentioned at the beginning, it might have been inherited from my uncle, my aunt’s husband from the Netherlands, who wore loose sweaters and listened to hip hop. My mum also had an uncle from the Indonesian side of the family, whom I never met, but he was very eccentric. Some of his clothes made their way to us over the years, and when I looked at these pieces in the closet, I was fascinated by how they reflected his personality. Asian fashion became a bit closer to me because of this, and I might even explore it someday.

The heart necklace you wear all the time, even today, is from your girlfriend. Do you ever dress your girlfriend or does she dress you?

My girlfriend is very fashion-oriented and has played a big role in my fashion development. She has always encouraged me when I tried new clothes that, at the time, seemed more radical to me. In this way, she partially shaped me. We also really enjoy shopping together. She dresses me more often than I dress her, which means I ask her for opinion. There have also been times when we’ve dressed the same when it comes to basic pieces; we’ve never really styled each other, but there will probably be time for that in the future.

Where do you like to go for vintage pieces in Ljubljana? Did you find any gems while on tour across Europe?

Textile House Vintage Shop is, in my opinion, by far the best in Ljubljana. The next one is Humana on Stritarjeva street, where I find something every now and then. Abroad, we’ve visited many vintage shops in Dublin, Paris, and London. In the latter, I always go to Brick Lane, which is a street with vintage shops in the east side of central London, where the more hipster area starts. The downside is that it quickly becomes quite an expensive experience.

What kind of information can you deduce about a person based on what they’re wearing? Who, in your opinion, is truly well-dressed?

A person’s style is never a reason not to engage in conversation with them, but it is a very strong stimulator of my interest in that person. If I think someone is really well-dressed, I automatically assume they might think similarly to me and be interested in the same artistic, musical, or visual directions, so I’m more eager to talk to them. However, I’ve often met people who didn’t seem interestingly dressed, and later realised they were amazing people, even if they dressed completely casually.

Your audience expresses itself very differently in terms of fashion, as your parents also mentioned in a recent interview for Elle. How do you as a band perceive this?

Yes, what they meant was that it is no longer the case that you have to be "appropriately" dressed for a rock concert. When we observe the audience from the stage, I would say that the most typical thing for our time is that we are no longer genre-bound. Not just musically, but also in terms of fashion. 30 or 40 years ago, you would see people at a rock concert in leather jackets, black shoes, and jeans, and that was it. Today, you have flamboyant outfits with blue and green hair in one corner, gothic style in another, and of course, people in simple t-shirts and pants somewhere in the middle. And no one feels like they don’t belong; everyone sings our songs, and that’s really nice.

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

❗Please do not repost without credit, and if you quote, please link back to this post!

[n0cturn4]

Character: Dick Grayson x Reader Summary: The tension in the air became palpable Word Count: 741 Music: When it's time - Green Day

In the city of Gotham, the night unfolded like a cloak of gentle mist, where the moonlight danced upon the puddles formed by the rain, like small windows into an ethereal world. You walked through the silent streets, your footsteps echoing amidst the whisper of the wind. The shadows, like figures in a nocturnal ballet, moved beneath the soft glow of the streetlights, transforming the urban bustle into a magical symphony. Amidst your daydreams, a familiar figure emerged from the shadows.

“Hey, it’s not safe to walk alone out here at night,” a deep, warm voice broke the silence. You turned to find Dick Grayson, wrapped in his dark suit, with a smile that illuminated the darkness like the moon itself.

“And you, what are you doing here?” you asked, a smile blooming on your lips. Dick always had a knack for appearing when his presence was most needed.

“Just taking a stroll, trying to keep Gotham safe,” he replied, leaning slightly as if the city were a sanctuary to be protected. “I can do that with a little help.”

A thrill coursed through your heart. Dick was more than a hero; he was a friend, a confidant, a light amid the darkness. With him, insecurity faded, and excitement took hold of you.

“Shall we take a walk?” he suggested, extending his hand. You hesitated for a moment, but soon your hand found his, feeling the warmth and strength that radiated from him. As you walked, he spoke enthusiastically about the team’s latest adventures, their victories and challenges. The passion in his voice made your heart race.

Suddenly, he stopped, turning to you, his blue eyes shining with the moon's silver light. “You know, I’ve always admired your courage,” he said, his voice low and filled with sincerity. “You don’t fear facing what lies ahead, and that inspires me.”

“Thank you, Dick,” you replied, warmth flooding your cheeks. “But you’re the true hero here.”

He shook his head, chuckling softly, as if to deflect the praise. “Maybe, but heroes also need someone by their side, someone to help keep them focused.”

At that moment, the tension in the air became palpable, an expectation hovering between you. Dick moved a little closer, and you could smell his signature scent—a mix of leather and a subtle fragrance that made your heart flutter.

“I... I want you to know that you’re important to me,” he began, hesitating as if the words were precious pearls to be carefully offered. “I’ve been fighting my own demons, and often, it’s you who brings me back to reality.”

His words echoed within you like a soft violin's touch. “Dick, I care about you too. I’ve always cared” you confessed, your gazes intertwining in a silent dance.

Time seemed to stop as you both locked eyes, the intensity of the moment swelling like a silent storm. Then, without a second thought, he leaned in and sealed your lips in a gentle kiss, but one full of meaning. The world around you vanished, and all that existed was the connection between you two, like stars united in a vast night sky.

When your lips parted, Dick smiled shyly, a fragility contrasting with the confidence he usually displayed. “I didn’t want to miss this chance,” he said, his timidity making the moment even more special.

“Me neither,” you replied, still a bit dazed but enveloped in a radiant happiness. “Gotham may be dark, but with you, everything seems clearer.”

He intertwined his fingers with yours, as if wanting to seal a pact under the moonlight. Together, you began to traverse the streets of Gotham, where the shadows whispered ancient secrets and the air was filled with the freshness of the night. Each step resonated like an echo of unspoken promises, and you felt the city around you pulse with new energy.

The gentle mist wrapped around both of you like a protective cloak, while the moonlight illuminated a path full of possibilities. In that moment, the city's hustle seemed to quiet, and all that mattered was the connection blossoming between you. The night of revelations became a prelude to a new story, a tale that was just beginning to be written beneath the stars, in a universe where love and friendship intertwined like shadows in the moonlight.

[professional-yapper]

Aonung x Albino reader? 🙏🙏

Burn

Aonung x Albino! Reader

Warnings: sunburn ig?, awkward Aonung (he can't flirt to save his life this is true James Cameron told me himself), teasing as flirting, the tribe they're from is giving cult x

"This is stupid, Vipka," you huffed, ducking under a branch as you followed your twin brother's ghostly figure closer and closer to the edge of the dark forest that your tribe inhabited.

"Don't be a wuss!" he called back, flashing you a sharp grin. "We might find something cool!"

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, or we'll find something dangerous, get ourselves killed, and end up in the Nothing. Eywa's word is that we stay here, in the Dark, where it's safe."

Vipka rolled his eyes right back, bounding towards you, grabbing your arms and giving you a little shake. "That's what the elders say. If Eywa wanted us to stay here, she wouldn't have made me so curious about what's out there."

You gritted your teeth, but couldn't find a proper response to that beyond a muttered, "That's blasphemous." And you relented, following your stupid, reckless brother towards the edge of the forest.

Not that you were sure there even was an edge. After all, no one besides the elders actually knew. You and Vipka were only heading in the direction that the elders went in when they left the village for reasons you and Vipka weren't allowed to know.

It really could just be the forest, going on forever and ever, and you would keep going until you went crazy.

A silent prayer formed on your lips, to Eywa, who had cared for your people even after they had been foolish enough to burn their Spirit Tree down. All that was left of the centuries-old catastrophe was a charred old stump held in reverence.

Once, your uncle had whispered a story to you of tribes far away, where the sun shone brightly and their Spirit Trees grew strong, and they could even connect with their dead through the Trees themselves. It seemed fantastical to you, who had grown up knowing upon death your people would go into the Nothing and never be heard from again. Eywa's punishment for her disobedient children.

But after all... You wondered if it could be true. If you and Vipka walked far enough, would you find a tribe with no Nothing, with a Spirit Tree that grew and flourished and kept their ancestors safe?

You didn't know whether to hope so or not. Would you even be able to return home once the elders discovered yours and Vipka's disobedience? Perhaps Eywa would punish the tribe again. Maybe your family personally.

Once again you called for Vipka, but he ignored you and his pale, slender form disappeared into the trees, running now, fuelled by the adrenaline of doing something so forbidden.

Not that this was forbidden, just wandering through the Dark. But it wasn't really the Dark, anymore. The dark green of the foliage had bled away into a lighter hue, punctuated with bursts of colours. Flowers and plants and fruits that you shied away from, eyes wary as you picked your way through this new world.

You shielded your eyes against the strange light filtering through the trees, golden and hot against your skin, which was already taking on a queer pink tint that you recognised vaguely.

The elders were often this shade when they returned to the tribe. Vipka had overheard them calling it... the Burn?

You couldn't be sure, but you covered your flushed arms with your hands and kept going.

A squeal suddenly pierced the warm silence, and you froze, ears dipping and tail waving with brisk worry. "Vipka?" you called, taking a few stilted steps towards the source of the sound.

Another squeal, but definitely not Vipka. An animal of some kind. And voices. Loud, cheerful, calling to one another as they got closer, evidently following the squealing thing.

Hunters, maybe.

Not from your tribe, for sure.

You began backing up, preparing to turn and run like hell all the way back home. Vipka could keep going for all you cared, could be caught and eaten alive by the tribes beyond the Dark.

A large animal burst out of the undergrowth and you shrieked in fright, leaping back and colliding with something or someone, falling down in a jumble of arms and legs.

The animal veered away at your cry, thundering in a different direction.

"Damn!" the thing that had fallen down with you swore, shoving you off unceremoniously. "You scared it away, skxwang!"

"Fuck you!" you spluttered furiously, climbing to your feet and rubbing your lower back. You were angry. Fucking furious.

But then the strange Na'vi stood up, and you considered that it might not be a good idea to square up with him.

He was built like a tree. Broad and muscular and a weird shade of blue. Twice your size, at least. Could absolutely crush you into dust.

You didn't want to stick around and find out.

But before you could run, he grabbed your arm, pulling you back, staring at you hard with his weird pale eyes, dark curls plastered to his brow, entire body covered in sweat. "What are you?" he asked.

You shoved him in the chest, but he barely shifted, which was a solid blow to your ego. You were one of the stronger members of the tribe, and it scared you to think Na'vi of his size and strength were roaming wild out here.

Why would the elders ever come out here?

"You're one of those white Na'vi, right? From the deep forest on the other side of Awa'atlu?" he prompted, ears flattening as you kept quiet.

You stiffened. "How do you know that?"

"Your people- what do you mean, how do I know that? Your people come and talk with my dad all the time. You should probably cover up, by the way. You guys burn real easy," he added, tone almost friendly as he released your arm, seemingly realising it wasn't helping.

He knew? He knew of your people. He knew of the Dark. He knew the elders.

"But you're, like, my age," he continued, tilting his head. "I thought your people were all old and wrinkly. That's why you're white, yeah?"

You frowned. "Only the elders ever leave the Dark," you said slowly, wondering just how much you should tell this boy.

He chuckled, a surprisingly reassuring sound, even though he was holding a spear with the other hand. "What's the Dark? Is that what you call the place you're from?"

You nodded.

"So you guys don't see the sun much, huh?" he said carefully, glancing up at the blazing white spot in the sky above.

A swift shake of the head, and you didn't bother to follow his eyes. You could feel the sun well enough as is. Your skin felt flushed, hot, and it stung when you touched it.

Though the pink was a nice colour, you had to ask. "Is it poisonous?" you asked, trying to keep the distress out of your voice, running your fingers down your arm.

Another warm chuckle, and now he was looking at you with interest, which made your heart beat a little quicker. "No, you're just burning. Sunburn, you know? Cause you don't see the sun much-"

"Ever," you interjected briefly, stealing a glance above, at the great blue mass above you that went on forever, careful to keep your eyes away from the sun, though spots still danced in your eyes when you looked back at him.

He blew out a breath, curls jumping off his forehead briefly. "Okay. So you're from a freaky tribe where you've never seen the sun and live in the dark all the time, in the forest where the leaves are so thick the sun can't get through... What are you doing here? Did you run away?"

"Kind of?" you said, wondering what he was doing as he turned and scooped up a knife off the floor, then turned and started walking. Should you follow him?

"Are you coming?" he called back, gesturing for you to follow. When you caught up, he gestured for you to keep talking.

"I was following my brother Vipka. Leaving the Dark was his idea. He wanted to know where our elders go," you continued, tongue growing looser the more time you spent with this strange boy. Which might've been a bad thing. "Eywa cursed him with curiosity."

The boy nodded slowly, absorbing this. "And where's your brother now?"

"He ran ahead and I lost him," you shrugged. "But he'll turn up, either at your village or back home, if he gives up."

"I'm Aonung," the boy said briskly.

You told him your name, and he repeated it back to you carefully, grinning like it was an inside joke between you two.

"I'll take you home with me, then," Aonung shrugged. "My mother will know what to do. I- we can look after you till your elders return to my village." The tips of his ears flushed and you smiled, pleased with the sight, though you didn't know why.

"Sounds good," you hummed.

"Are all girls in your tribe as pretty as you?" he asked abruptly, looking straight forward as if scared to see your expression.

You blinked, then smiled again, wider, flushing, though you thought he probably wouldn't be able to tell since you were so 'sunburnt'. "Dunno," you chuckled. "I'll bring you home with me one day and you can see for yourself."

"I don't think they are," he said, glancing down at you and smiling, lips curling downwards.

"You haven't even seen them yet!"

"No, but I trust my gut," he said, slapping his abs with a proud look

"Oh, yeah? Was it your gut that made you run into me, too?"

"That- that was fate. Mother Eywa intended it."

"Or maybe Eywa cursed you with clumsiness. A deadly combination with how short-sighted you apparently are," you teased.

He gave you a little push, laughing. "Shut up! Why were you just standing there, is my question!"

You pushed him back, not bothering to put any effort into it, as the results remained the same and he didn't break his stride. "I've never been this far from home! I was taking in the scenery!"

"Taking in the scenery," he scoffed. "Take in this scenery." He got close to your face, which was probably meant to be intimidating but only made your ears drop bashfully, tail curling against your calf, suddenly shy as his nose almost bumped into yours.

He lingered for a moment, then seemed to realise his theatrics had gone wrong and backed up. "I mean- sorry, that came out wrong."

"No, it's okay, I like that scenery just fine too," you grinned, and he rolled his eyes in embarrassment.

"What?" you taunted, following him as he kept walking, more than happy to tease the hell out of him. "I thought you wanted me to take in the scenery!"

"Shut up."

"Make me."

I'm patenting this tribe actually, this freaky albino tribe, because I want to write lore for it. Let me know if anyone wants to read said lore. Enjoy anon! I had fun with the world-building!

[flightfoot]

Miraculous Enemies AU fanfic recs

So I was just thinking about one of my favorite Miraculous tropes, enemies au. Whether it's Marinette getting the wrong idea about Adrien from the beginning of school, or Chat being cajoled into working for his father, I adore most fics with these tropes, and I'm betting that a lot of other people do as well, so here's a list of some good ones for people to peruse!

Note: I am only listing fics that are currently completed, so you don't have to fear any of these being abandoned. They are in no particular order (or rather, they're in the order in which I was able to track them down in for this list).

cruel youth by @anyxnka

Two teenagers are chosen to wield miraculouses. Only one becomes a superhero. Weeks later, Ladybug’s lucky charm won’t stop spitting out cats.

---

i have found someone (like a nomad finds a home) by @hanaasbananas

After Stoneheart, Gabriel figured out who Chat Noir was, and forced him to work for him, rather than with Ladybug. Years later, Adrien is miserable until one night, he meets Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

---

Unstuck by @ominousunflower

Chat Noir, notorious supervillain of Paris, experiences a wardrobe malfunction in the best and worst possible place: Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s balcony. Heart pounding, Chat pins Marinette’s wrists to the balcony. She stares up at him, her blue eyes kaleidoscopic from the lights hanging overhead, her features twisted into a scowl. “Why are you trying to take my Miraculous?” Chat hisses. “Because—you—I—” Marinette splutters, her eyes dipping down below Chat’s face. “Why is your suit unzipped?” “I—well…” Chat sighs. “My zipper got stuck.”

---

one does not love breathing by @wackus-bonkus-maximus

All of Paris watched as Hawkmoth murdered Chat Noir, taking the Black Cat Miraculous for himself. Ladybug swears revenge, but her enemy—and every Miraculous in his possession—disappear without a trace. Six years later, a new team of villains launches an attack: Volpina, armed with new powers; Queen Bee, with questionable loyalty; Argos, the new holder of the Peacock Miraculous; and Cat Walker, who Ladybug hates the most. Takes place after S4 - Strike Back.

---

with this ring by @thelibraryloser

She thought “you and me against the world” had sounded like lopsided odds before, when she hadn’t even dreamed “you against me” was a possibility. Or maybe she had dreamed it, but at least in those dreams he’d had cold blue eyes and a stark white mask. The villain she’d fought today had looked at her through her partner’s own bright green eyes. It wasn’t meant to be this way.

---

Nothing Else Matters by LiquefiedStars

Marinette couldn’t figure out Chat Noir. He was supposed to be her partner, but instead ended up working for Hawk Moth. Still, her heart betrayed her and when a strong connection forms between them, Ladybug goes to Chat looking for answers, finding out more than she bargained for.

---

home is where the fight is by @rosie-b

Nadja Chamack’s voice greeted Adrien as he sat up straight, wiping his clammy hands on his pants and ignoring the black kwami floating by his shoulder. “—shocked to see our heroine fall in battle today, taking a direct hit from the akuma just as she detransformed. Parisians are torn between blaming Hawk Moth and Cat Walker for their roles in this tragedy, which ultimately revealed the civilian identity of Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” Adrien turned off the TV and lowered his head as his vision blurred. Written for Ladrien June Day 7: Injured

---

The Great War by icebelle24

'And maybe it’s the past that’s talking, screaming from a crypt Telling me to punish you for things you never did So I justified it' The unthinkable happens, and suddenly, Chat Noir’s allegiances change. Now Ladybug stands on the opposite side of the battlefield from the boy who was once her partner, left alone to make sense of an impossible situation. At least she still has Adrien to give her hope. Or maybe this war is not entirely what it seems.

---

Miss Dial by @mysticraven20

Adrien Agreste has always considered Marinette Dupain-Cheng entertaining. Whether it was the endless back and forth of their banter, the clumsiness he found so cute or the fact her anger levels could go from 1-100 in a mere millisecond; he always found there was something about her... if only he could get to know her better. Marinette Dupain-Cheng has always considered Adrien Agreste a pompous, arrogant asshole. From his constant teasing of her, to the obnoxious laugh at her discomfort and the way he could anger her quicker than any other human being; she knew she hated Adrien Agreste with all she was worth. But what happens when Adrien accidentally sends the wrong text to the wrong person and a new friendship blossoms - a friendship deeper than either have ever known? Will Marinette choose to stay faithful to the budding relationship with the boy on the other side of the phone? Or will a new job with an old foe fill the loneliness in her heart?

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call it even by @anna-scribbles and @sha-nwa

After a year of dating, there is one thing Marinette knows for certain: it's her and Adrien against the world. Through it all, Adrien is kind, patient, and endlessly understanding—even as she tries her best to keep her secret superhero identity hidden from him along with the rest of the world. Nothing could ruin it, not even the supervillains of Paris: Hawkmoth and Chat Noir. (adrinette dating // ladynoir enemies au)

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oh, look, there you go with hope again by @ladyofthenoodle

After the defeat of Hawkmoth and his accomplice, Chat Noir, Marinette is ready to return to her normal life, but she can't escape Adrien Agreste, who was sentenced to a fate many consider worse than prison: public school. Specifically, her public school. Still, that doesn't mean she has to interact with him, does it? Except, if she doesn't... who will?

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Redemption by JamieHasCatEyes

Papillon has been defeated and imprisoned, but his accomplice, Chat Noir, was given a second chance. Marinette's time as Ladybug may be over, but she still has work to do if she wants to help Adrien reintegrate back into society.

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The Son Of My Enemy by Saccha

Cat Noir never wanted to be a villain, but he doesn't have a choice. Ladybug wishes she could save him. A reverse love square, villain!Cat Noir AU.

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metamorphosis by @peachcitt

“I was thinking about that time you hated me.” “Why?” "I don’t know." “I didn’t.” “I know.” or three years after hawkmoth's defeat, marinette is still trying to figure out her version of normal. there's also sleepovers.

---

Stealing Freedom by @rosie-b

Adrien Agreste was a good person. Marinette knew this to be true, of course; she wouldn’t be marrying him if he were some irredeemable villain. No, her fiancé was practically the opposite of evil. He cooed over babies and kittens, literally stopped to smell the roses, and always brought large bouquets of them to dates. He had trouble killing spiders and bugs, begging his partner to take on the task whenever she was around to save him. Adrien was the sweetest person Marinette knew, the most kindhearted, the most forgiving; he was almost too perfect for her sometimes. But now, Marinette knew that the same Adrien who still blushed when his fiancée kissed him was also the well-known terror of Paris, Cat Walker.

[bambidixon]

I've been thinking about them. A LOT. I mean it sooo

First thing first They're so “The exit” by Conan gray

Feels like we had matching wounds— the way they grew up

But mine's still black and bruised and yours is perfectly fine—She being stuck in the past unable to form bonds with new people while Daryl finding his place with his new family

Feels like we've buried alive something that never dies— the past and ofc Merle

NOWW some things I've been thinking about

I don't think she would like Carol at all at leats until the prison maybe? they would eventually become friends and probably before she and daryl get together.

She would hate Rick, not that much but she would find him quite annoying.

I feel that she would get along with the Greene family, in fact she would be closer to them than to the rest of the group.

Beth would be her first real friend and Hershel the first man she trusts other than Daryl and Merle and I'm dying on that hill

She has something that Daryl gave her (a necklace, a ring, a diary idc anything) and she takes it everywhere

About how I think things would happened...

So she left, but I don't think she's going to leave Daryl behind just like that. He's all she has, and Daryl's "friendship" is the only stability she's ever known. I believe their it will happen gradually , probably starting during their time on the farm. In the first days, she and Daryl are both busy looking for Sophia—there's no time for buddies talks, and things don't seem to have changed between them. But as the days pass, she can't help but notice how much finding Sophia means to him, and she just doesn’t understand it. From her perspective, that girl is probably dead, and Daryl is risking his life for nothing. Yet, she keeps her thoughts to herself bc she knows better than arguing with him.

Their first real argument happens when Andrea mistakenly shoots him. She's furious—Daryl could have been killed, and it feels like no one else truly cares. She’s the only one who went out looking for him. They end up yelling at each other, both too stubborn to back down.

Things don’t change much until Sophia is found, already turned into a walker in the barn. The entire situation leaves Daryl angry and disillusioned with everyone. He retreats to what he knows—her—but it no longer feels the same. There’s a discomfort, a sense that Daryl no longer belongs by her side, and it bothers her.

Their distance grows when Daryl starts to bond with Carol. Is she jealous? YES ABSOLUTELY, but not in a possessive way—more in the sense that Carol is actually good for him unlike her, and he seems happier around these people, more like his true self. As his connections with the group strengthen, the gap between them widens—though it's more that she distances herself from him than the other way around.

After the farm burns down, when they’re camping with the group, she overhears Carol asking Daryl to leave with her and separate from the group. For a moment, she wants to say something, because who is she to think she can just take Daryl away like he's some lucky charm? But Daryl’s refusal to leave stops her.

Ultimately, I think she would leave after Merle’s death. She realize that if Daryl is happy and has chosen to stay with these people, she wouldn’t be the one to take away his chance at having a family, even if she’s no longer part of it.

[missjulielovesbows]

please please please

good girl x bad boy trope for the win (can you guys tell i love this trope)

not proof read

probably one thousand five hundred words maybe

all your friends had… interesting opinions on toji fushiguro.

some would say he is an unfit boyfriend for you, since he was… a seasoned student. others would say he was a bad influence, hanging out with the likes of sukuna. all would say that you should’ve run when he officially asked you out.

he had a reputation for being a heartbreaker, a new girl in his arm’s every week or so. honestly, if it weren’t for his attractive looks, you wouldn’t have even batted an eye at him. though many didn’t know the heartbreak he had in middle school, a starter for his self-destructive behaviour. but regardless, toji fushiguro had grown quite the name as a playboy at high school.

so, naturally, it had soon become your turn to be his girl.

during class, he scootched next to you, cozying up next to you with that annoying smirk on his face, that scar on his lip stretching as he stared at you with half-lidded eyes.

and obviously you wacked him on the side of the head, shoving him away from you with a teasing remark to focus on your work.

but you’d be a liar if you said he didn’t cause any feelings to stir in you that day.

and that day, something else stirred in him too.

it wasn’t that girls never rejected him, it was just he planned his targets carefully – and you seemed like the perfect prey: a doe-eyed student, who had grades almost as perfect as her manners, quite a prude or a stick in the mud as some would say.

so, what surprised him was how you didn’t seem to be like the rumours said you were; you weren’t some prude who couldn’t have fun, you’d just had better things to worry about.

this led to attempt after attempt to get to know you, a genuinely fun chase between the two of you. from the teasing touches and some heart-to-heart conversations, he began to develop a deeper connection to you, as much as he may say otherwise – he had never been the best with words, his actions his stronger form of communication.

he had even asked your parents for their permission before he asked you out (the second time, at least). and while they were skeptical, they gave him the green flag.

oh, you remember it like it was yesterday, the day he – the nonchalant, popular, and masculine, toji fushiguro – came to school with a bouquet of flowers, a handwritten note (which you later were told one of his friends – suguru geto, you believed was his name – had helped him write), and a bag filled with your favourite foods.  

he had come up to you when you arrived at school, his eyes sparkling when he saw you – or maybe that was just your delusions because who wouldn’t want someone like him to swoon for you.

shoving the gifts into your arms, he mumbled something about getting your parents permission before he flashed that smirk at you again and his annoying voice asked you if he could be your boyfriend.

you had agreed, a bright smile on your face for the rest of the day (more like week according to your friends).

~~~~

“again, toji?” you ask him, rolling your eyes at the big fat c minus on his exam paper, pacing back and forth at the front of your bed, “we even studied well for this one!”

you rack a hand through your hair, knowing your parents and your friends were conflicted with your boyfriend, toji.

honestly, it was rough. undoubtedly, old habits die hard, but sometimes you just wished he’d at least try to change.

“well i promised them you’re different, and that everyone makes mistakes,” you huff out, rolling your eyes at him, “but just don’t”

watching you get all riled up and fidgety, he shrugs, leaning back on your bed, with that stupid lopsided smile on his face.

you noticed he had been smiling instead of smirking around you, and you couldn’t help but enjoy the change, minute as it is.

“ain’t m’ fault you look pretty teaching me” he teases, resting his hands behind his head as he stretches his legs out.

“well i’d be prettier for you if you weren’t on the edge of failing, toj’,” you huff out, sitting at the foot of the bed, a defeated look on your face.

“is it me? can i not teach you well?”

with a playful sigh and a roll of his eyes, he leans forward and pulls you into a hug, his wide embrace nestling you in his arms.

“oh quit it,” he chuckles out, rubbing your back comfortingly, “it’s ain’t you, doll, i just don’t try enough” he snickers out, ruffling your hair with one of his big hands as you roll your eyes at him, “next time, i promise”

he knew his words weren’t the most comforting, but he hoped his actions conveyed his feelings.

“well, at least you passed” you mumble into his chest, a smile creeping to your face. as much as you wished he would pay more attention to his academics, you love him regardless. though the whispers don’t help.

~~~~

“darl’, listen-”, he huffs out, his sentence cut off as you press a little too hard against his bruise, washing away any flecks of blood that remains, “listen, he deserved it y’know, hollerin’ ‘bout you ‘n everythin’”

you sigh and bring your attention to his face, a big purple bruise swelling on his beautiful face. touching it gently, he flinches and turns away, eliciting a huff from you.

you two were supposed to go out for dinner together, all dolled up and pretty until some stranger decided to unceremoniously express his feelings towards what you were wearing.

“please, toj’, don’t prove ‘em right” you sigh out, examining his face more, a small cut near the corner of his eye, “don’t bring me to tears when i did my make up so nice”

to be honest, it felt nice to have someone defend you like that, but it didn’t help his poor reputation.

he had seemed to improve himself; he had lost the playboy persona, his love solely yours, but he still has that annoyingly attractive flirtatiousness. however, his violent tendencies and his connections with sukuna were still not the best.

“honestly, i beg you not the embarrass me with your brash behaviour because surely there’s a better way with dealing catcallers than beating them to a bloody pulp” you scoff out, cradling an icepack to his face, “please, just stop acting so stupid in front of me”

he lets out a laugh, his eyes shining with adoration.

“well, i guess you just make me more stupid, doll”

~~~~

you had good judgement, you had good taste – though your friends said otherwise.

you knew toji wasn’t as bad as everyone else made him out to be.

but sometimes, it felt like they were right.

“toji fushiguro, i swear to you if you do one more stupid thing, i am going to handcuff you to a chair, duck-tape your mouth shut, just to keep you from doing these dumb adventures,” you grumble, pulling up to a police station.

passing the front desk lady – brenda knew you quite well, at this point, all thanks to sukuna and your boyfriend – you walk to the holding cells, eyes spotting the man you came here for.

“fushiguro, hurry up” you snap out, offering a little wave to the guard as he unlocks the cell door.

silently, he followed you, repeatedly trying to hold your hand, knowing he was in deep water.

you wrap your coat closer to your body as you step out of the building, briskly walking to your cadillac, ignoring his attempts to soothe your anger.

he steps in front of you, opening your car door, before going around to the other side.

knowing he was on thin ice, he lets out a chuckle, a hand brushing yours as you grip the steering wheel tightly.

“honey, it wasn’t me, i was only there by extension,” he hums out softly, eyes locked on yours as you drive away, “it was all ‘cause i was just ‘round near sukuna, i swear”

but he doesn’t get a response, nor does he expect one just yet.

you couldn’t say anything right now, lest you wanted to snap out at him, so you both waited till you cooled down – his eyes locked on your figure the whole drive home.

but to his surprise, you drive to an empty carpark.

once you park the car, you turn to him, eyes brimming with frustrated tears.

“please, toji, please” you mumbles out, “heartbreak is one thing, but breaking my ego is another,” you try to lighten your mood, but you can’t help but glare at him.

“i’ll stop hanging out with him” he says after a beat of silence, his eyes dead serious as he gazes into yours.

“look, you’re changin’ me for the better, doll,” he murmurs softly, an uncharacteristic flash of vulnerability falling on his face, “and, i think its time f’r me to put more effort in”

with gentle hands, he takes your hand, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“you’ve already gotten me to ditch the playboy stuff,” he chuckles out, looking at you with such admiration in his eyes, “you’ve helped me study back in school” he murmurs out, remembering the late nights you would spend tutoring him.

“it’s the least i could do for you” he hums out, “’n i know all the stuff you’ve done for me, ‘n sacrificed f’r me” he confesses, his thumb tracing the back of your hand.

“i see the concern you have ‘cause you love me” he teases, flashing a lopsided smile “’n you get so frustrated with me a lot of the times” he chuckles out, watching you as you stay silent, soaking in his words.

“look, i aint good with words” he hums out, the dark night accentuating the sharp shadows of his face, “but i see you, and i’ve seen what you’ve done for me”

warmth fills you, your previous frustrations fizzling out. you hate how reckless and careless he can be, but you love how observant and aware he can be.

“so, please, don’t give up on me, honey”

you almost miss the words at how quiet he was.

and with a sigh and a smile, you bring him into a hug.

“please, i’ve stuck with you for this long, it would be a waste to abandon my hard work”

a/n. guys i love 'please please please' - sabrina carpenter she always knows what we need anyways live laugh love