#my ma desperately wants me to have kids one day

[xxxg0ryygurlll13xxx]

my family is fucking insane. why the hell would i want to bring a kid into it?

[foxyaries]

My Shifting Story That Keeps Me Motivated To This Day

Well hello again! I think it is time I share my own "almost" success story. I know a lot of you might not be interested in reading about my ALMOST success. But trust me... the more I tink about my own story the more I realize how silly it was of me to procrastinate actually doing it for so long. It's almost funny. But let's get into it, shall we?

As I have already mentioned it in my previous posts (please do read them if you haven't already to fill in any blanks that you may or may not have). I have been at a very dark place at that time. And I didn't wanna live the way that I had for as long as I could remember, because I simply wasn't happy.. with my life or my family. And I felt like I was a good kid. And I was! So when I discovered the subliminal world.. I saw it as my escape and a way to finally become happy. And that's when the subliminal "Wake up in your desired family" came into picture.

Like I mentioned before, there were only a couple success stories under that subliminal, but at that time our community was even smaller compared to what it is now. And those 10 - 14k views was more than enough for me to believe that it was a real deal. It's a bit funny to think about it now because these days we tend to pick subliminals that has thousands and thousands and thousands of views? Am I right? :) That's how we decide whether the subliminal works or not.

Anyways.. back to my storytime. I have already mentioned in another post of mine that those success stories that I did see all said the same thing. That for them to start feeling the results it took them a couple months. And if you remember as well as I do. Back then everyone set a limiting belief that for a subliminal message to start working you need to listen to it for at least 21 days. Even tho that wasn't true, I didn't know much about shifting so I believed it. And I also wasn't desperate enough, so since the stories told me it took THEM 1 - 2 months, I figured it'd take me the exact amount of time. And I thought it was nothing compared to the future I was gonna have.

So all that I did for those couple months was listen to that subliminal at least 1 hour a day and sometimes if I could overnight with the idea that I could wake up in my desired family any given moment. Pay attention to that. I didn't set a deadline or put pressure on myself for doing anything wrong. I just listened and knew it was going to happen. When exactly? No idea. How exactly? Not a clue, but I didn't care. Because knowing less was actually more of a blessing than I thought. I had no limiting beliefs. All it did was awaken my inner child and that whole journey felt magical to me and I really looked foward to my results.

Probably a month passed by when I started getting tired around the same time, every single day so I'd take naps. At a time a half an hour nap was more than enough to make me feel rested and I'd get in the state of being awake yet asleep at the same time. You know what I am talking about. The state during which it feels like you are in and out of sleep. When the sounds feel like they are far far away and then they dissapear. It almost sounds like I was close to tapping in the void state, no? :)

So whenever I'd feel tired I'd just have one earbud in my ear and lay in whatever comfortable position I wanted to lay in. It usually was on my side. And I had no intention to shift because I KNEW it was gonna happen either way. So I'd lay down and just have myself doze off listening to my playlist (I had a couple boosters too but then I'd just loop the main subliminal). And then I started feeling unusual sensations and feelings I have never felt before. All I did was just lay there and day dream about how I was gonna wake up in my desired room and I tried imagining it in detail. How I was gonna walk out of my room and see my best friends that I was going to shift there with. And literally all I did was just loop that scene because it made me happy :')

I keep rambling haha I'm sorry. Back to what happened. I was probably a month in when I started to get tired and naking naps around the same time and suddenly my naps were different? I would just mind my own business, think about my future when suddenly I would feel this insanely strong sensation that I was being lifted off of my bed and that my body was turning and flying somewhere?? But because I didn't know exactly what it was it'd freak me out and my body would flinch. That's when I'd recover the feeling of my body back and it felt like I'd literally fall back into my bed. And I mean LITERALLY get slammed back into my body. And this wasn't a one time thing. Same thing kept happening every single day for like 2 weeks (until I got insecure and shifted my focus somehwere else as I've mentioned in another post). What's funny is that I didn't even realize what was happening. I was just like "Oh? That's a new feeling" I was just curious and wanted for it to keep happening so I could understand it better. I only realized what it was when it stopped happening all together and for that I blame myself.

But you know what? It's okay. I've learnt so much since then. And it's insane how all I did every day was look for other success stories to convince myself that this was real. When I had my own very real success story. I KNOW all fo this is real because I experienced it. And I am done looking for a confirmation from other people. I know the truth and that's enough. And you should too. You don't need any of these methods. All you need is to do whatever makes you feel comfortable and happy and that you know works for YOU. Cause what actually matters is that YOU KNOW is gonna work for you. That's all that ANY of us really need.

I know this is a lot, but if you actually read this I hope it helped and made you realize something... anything really. Be your own success story and make your dreams come true.

I believe soon you will hear about my own final success story:) Goodbye for now. Next post will be more about my fairy companion. Do look forward to that!

Much love,

Foxy ♡🦊

[bambi-slxt]

🤍𝐀𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞 ~ 𝐩𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞🤍

𝕔𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕡𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕠𝕝𝕠 𝕩 𝕗𝕖𝕞

word count: 1.6k

genres/tropes: second chance, romance, lovers to strangers to...?

warnings: smut, gaslighting, dumbification, slight degredation if you squint, nothing super hardcore.

pt one , pt two

Chris stood above me now - that was new. I’d watched him grow over the years, of course, but we hadn't been this physically close in ages, and now I tilted my head upwards to meet his gaze. I felt small and charged with anxious energy. His hands felt tougher than I remembered, though not unpleasant. His chest…god, his chest. It radiated warmth and all I wanted to do was sink into him like the old days and- 

“You okay?”

His soft drawl gathered all my senses and attention back to him–Chris had a way of doing that, zeroing my focus to a singular point (usually him). I realized my thumbs were gliding slowly across the back of his hands.

“Yeah,” I replied, taking the traitorous appendages and shoving them behind me so as not to cause any more trouble. “Yeah, I’m good.” I stepped away from him and into the room I used to call home. 

His bed, unmade like always, but this time with new sheets - “Mm…blue,” I commented, sinking into the mattress, “how original.”

Chris cocked his brow. “That's me. Mister Original.”

“Hey, um…” I pulled my feet up under myself, crossing my legs and trying desperately to ground my heart to my body, as currently she attempted unmanned flight. “You said you needed me? Are you okay?”

He sighed, crossing the room to settle in his gaming chair. Flakes of faux leather coating fluttered to the ground - Chris had owned that chair longer than he’d known me. 

I looked to his eyes, shaking a feathering of my hair from my field of vision. “Chris?”

“I jus’...couldn’t do it. Anymore.” He wouldn’t look at me. I waited in the quiet - I didn’t even have to try to stop breathing. “The whole, you know…not talking thing.”

I nodded. “I missed you too.” Tears stung my eyes. Don’t cry. Don’t you dare cry.

Chris’s monitor glowed faintly, the LEDs behind it pulsing color like a heartbeat. “Come here, ma,” he murmured, his voice warm and soft.

I untangled my limbs, slipped off the bed, and walked towards him carefully, as if he would disappear at any moment. Chris parted his knees for me while his hands, large and gentle, settled on my waist. The touch stopped me and there I stood before him, holding his wrists like I couldn’t choose whether to make him release me or guide his hands elsewhere. “I’m here,” I said quietly. Chris sat forward and dipped his head to my stomach, pressing his shower-fluffed hair against my top–I couldn’t help but card my fingers through his hair. It all felt so natural, like I was made with singular purpose and this was it. “I’m here.”

His arms snaked my waist and, once met and entangled behind my back, rested on my hips. “Come here,” he said again, tugging me down. His lap.

My heart tripped over itself. I turned and landed on his thigh while my hands flew to his chest. “Chris!”

He grinned and I felt his breath wash over my exposed chest. Should have worn a t-shirt. Goosebumps peppered my skin as I wrapped my arms around his neck, purely to stabilize myself. 

“Hi, kid.”

“...Hey.”

“How are you?”

What the actual f- “Good.”

“Good.”

“How are you?”

Chris looked me up and down. “Pretty great, honestly.”

“Shut up,” I snorted, pushing away from him and standing once more. “Why did you…call me, to talk to me again? Did you really miss me that badly?” I asked sardonically, pacing to the far end of his room.

“Yes,” he said simply, elbows on his knees as he looked at me.

“Then why not earlier, Chris?” My chest began to clench. “Why not on my birthday, or when Nana died, or when I ended up in the hospital, or-”

“Hey.”

“You could have called me at any point in the past year when I might have needed you, and the first time I hear from you is late at night because you miss me?”

“You know that I-”

“I know that you stopped caring about me,” I hissed, my words tumbling out almost faster than I could think of them, “And I know that you still don’t.” 

Silence.

And then came the crying. My knees gave out and I fell into his bed, biting my lip until I drew blood to keep those fucking tears at bay. They fell undeterred as my body hiccuped for air, chest constricting to push out the pain of my heart and flinging itself wide open to suck the oxygen from the room. 

“Fuck,” I heard him mutter, and he began to move, to do something, what it was I didn’t know, didn’t care, I just wanted this to be over, over, over…

The mattress sank to the side of me. Chris was there. “G-go away,” I sniffled, knowing I would be laughing at the absurdity of it all if I didn’t feel so…

“No.” Chris’s body pressed against me and in the dark room his hand found mine, balled up underneath my neck. He held my fists, running his thumb over the ridges of my knuckles. “Please don’t cry,” he murmured, “Please don’t cry.”

“F-fuck-ck you,” I said. I didn’t move.

He chuckled, shifting to let his other arm free. “Someone’s feisty.” I felt his fingers on my scalp, felt them find their old, familiar rhythm, felt them trace the cowlick on the side of my head, felt them tunnel under swaths of hair. 

“You make-hic-me feel lik-ke s-shit,” I stuttered, wrapping my hand around one of his fingers. 

“I’m sor-ry, ba-by,” Chris whispered slowly, as if to let each syllable sink into my shoulder skin. “I don’t mean to.”

“I…m-missed-d you.”

He sighed softly, flexing his arm around me tighter. “Yeah?”

“Yeah-hic.”

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry, babygirl.”

My eyes stung and my head pounded from the pain of crying. “Make-make it-t st-stop, please…”

“Make it stop?” he hummed.

“I d-don’t wanna c…cry anymore,” I said, holding tightly to him. His skin turned white under my grip.

Chris shifted and the mattress dipped further under his weight. “Look at me, baby.”

“No.”

He chuckled. “Come on,” Chris said, guiding my chin gently upwards with his knuckle, “Lemme see those pretty eyes.”

“But I’m crying.” I sniffled, trying to dry my eyes. I felt the remaining tears pooling on my cheeks, and I wondered briefly if my irises sparkled.

“I know. Don’t cry, baby, please,” he murmured earnestly, using his thumbs to pull the tears from my face, reaching back to tug a discarded tank top up to my nose to wipe the snot away, “It’ll break my heart. You know I can’t handle that.” Chris grinned, a little sheepishly, as though trying to coax a smile out of me.

And fuck me but it worked. “Shut up. You’re so stupid.” I shook my head, lips involuntarily pulled into the smile he wanted to see, and tugged my face from his hands, but…I held eye contact with Chris anyway. 

His smile never wavered, and I couldn't help but mirror his expression when he said, “I know.” 

We sat like that for a while, but whether hours or seconds passed wasn’t for me to know. Thoughts filled the cosmos of my mind - what-if’s, the consequences of different actions, the weight and magnitude that accompanied my next movement, whatever that might be. It felt like my higher mind gave up control of the body it inhabited and passed the diadem of leadership to the instincts, base and animalistic, that lived at the back of my skull. I stared into Christopher’s icy blue eyes and a galaxy of sin swirled behind my own watery irises. 

I wanted him to need me.

I needed him to want me.

My chest rose, lungs filling with air because of him. My heart thumped, swelling and contracting because Chris sat in front of me. My neurons whispered across the matter of my brain because he asked them to. I wet my lips. 

He broke our eye contact and fixed his gaze on my mouth. A splintered second of time, everything from supernovas to quarks coming to a halt.

Should we?

We’ll never know if we don’t.

Kiss me.

“Come here.”

Chris’s hand came up to my cheek–or did mine reach for his?–and our lips molded together…just like they were always meant to.

The spinning elliptical of stars in my mind exploded into a flurry of light and sound and color and my ribcage squeezed around my heart and lungs and my breath turned to panting and Chris’s other hand held the ridge of skin just above my hip and I gripped his shirt to pull him into me. If I could have opened my body I would have, if only to give him somewhere to rest.

He pushed me onto the bed, slowly, keeping my body from falling, always in contact with his own, don’t go anywhere, stay with me, I’m right here, don’t leave this bed until the universe dies…

“Let me…” Chris mumbled against my lips, his voice rumbling through my teeth and gums and tongue and soul.

“Let you what?” I whispered back as my hand spanned his shoulder blade and pulled him impossibly, painfully, desperately closer.

“I want to love you.” His grip on my body was tight, tensed with apologies, full of regret and longing.

“Love me then.”

“Please.” Chris sucked in my bottom lip and tongued the puffy ridge.

“Love me.”

“Let me take care of you.” Swiping his tongue into my mouth, Chris ran the tip over my own, groaning somewhere from deep in his stomach.

“Take care of me.” He tore his mouth from mine and sunk his teeth into my neck, marring my skin as a mewl echoed out of my throat. “More,” I whimpered. Chris’s fingers dug into my skin, and I arched my hips into his own. “More.” His arms flexed around my body. I would bruise in the morning, if the sun ever rose again. But here, in the dark, bruises were just shadows. “More.”

bambi's notes: hi! hope you like it! i'm working on other stuff for you guys - you gotta know how much i enjoy writing for you and knowing that my fics are even a small part of your day, it really is so special to me. drink your water and eat a snack!!!!

tags: @pinksturniolo @st7rnioioss @cindylcuwho @slutsformatt @st7rnioioss @slutsformatt

[thatbitchery]

So anyway I would like to thank God and also Jesus and also P Diddy for giving me the material to use when I tell my girls you don't want rich friends you just want to be rich and while networks are important there's little to be gained from running around with the elite especially when you have no primary bond like me going to high school with them and our friendship being a natural consequence of being stuck in boarding school together for four years instead of me trying to level up.

I'll say this again, if you're not on the same level, don't run with them they'll despise you and use you. If you want to social climb, target one level above you- just one, not alll the way to Kim Kardashian. Just one. Just one.

Repeat after me, you can get rich without sucking up.

I remember when I made this post about a girl from public school that decided to date some elite reich kid from my school and how I told her it's wrong and how she got used trashed r*ed dumped and y'all were talking to me about *yOuR sToRiEs SoUnD mAdE uP* baby no you're just underexposed. What do you think people that have had too much money on their hands and too much pressure to perform in society and too many expectations from tiger parents look like in private? People that can buy their way out of anything? What do you think they'll do with a someone that is willing to worship them? Back in the day when I said actually no you don't want to marry a millionaire when you're under 26 and when you don't have a lawyer yourself and whoever's underexposed daughter wrote me a paragraph on how my vibrations are low- baby. Ma. Listen to me and listen carefully, because I have NO reason to lie to you. NONE. What will I get huh. What can you give me that I don't have that I need to lie to you to get? No, what. You know who is lying? Your femininity guru. That's lying. Your hypergamy coach telling you to dress in that manly chanel jacket and look lost in tennis will get you trashed.

So anyway THANK YOU P DIDDY again for giving me the ammo I need to say- stay in your lane ma. Make your money and live your life and don't run around with people you're not on the same level with, especially looking desperate af. You're 21. Study and make your money and study finance and make it grow and make friends with people one level above you and use those friendships to level up to that position then keep moving, don't try shooting for the stars gravity will pull that bullet right back to you. It's 2024 you don't need to do all that. If you're not on the same level, be friendly but don't randomly jump into road trips. If your boys in public schools are monsters like that what do you think deca millionaires are like??

Know your place. Stay in your lane. One level higher, steadily , slowly. If you don't belong to that table, don't eat on it .

[lotusnleaves]

MORE THAN A CRUSH

— ᴾᵃᶦʳᶦⁿᵍ: ᴮˡᵃᶜᵏᶜᵒᵈᵉᵈᵎᶠᵉᵐᵎᴿᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ˣ ᶜʰᶦˡᵈʰᵒᵒᵈᵇˢᶠᵎᴱ⁴²ᵎᴹᶦˡᵉˢ

— ˢᵘᵐᵐᵃʳʸ: ᶠᵒʳ ᵃˢ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴹᶦˡᵉˢ ʰᵃᵈ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ, ᵈᶦᵈ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˡᵃᵗᶦᵒⁿˢʰᶦᵖ ᵗʰᶦⁿᵍ'ˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˢ ᶠᵃʳ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵉ'ʳᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᶜᵉʳⁿᵉᵈ ᶦᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᵃ ʳᵉˡᵃᵗᶦᵒⁿˢʰᶦᵖ. ᴮᵘᵗ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵖᵃʳᵗᶦᶜᵘˡᵃʳ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ʷᶦᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠʳᶦᵉⁿᵈˢ ᶦᵗ ʰᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵠᵘᵉˢᵗᶦᵒⁿᶦⁿᵍ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰᶦⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵉˣᵖˡᶦᶜᶦᵗˡʸ ˢᵃᶦᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵉ'ʳᵉ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ ˢᵒ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉˢᵉ ʸᵉᵃʳˢ ʷᵃˢ ᶦᵗ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵈᵉˡᵘˢᶦᵒⁿˀ

— ᴳᵉⁿʳᵉ: ˢᵒʳᵗᵃ ᵃ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᶠʳᶦᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵗᵒ ˡᵒᵛᵉʳˢ ᵗʳᵒᵖᵉ ˢˡᶦᵍʰᵗᵗᵗ ᵃⁿᵍˢᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵐᵒˢᵗˡʸ ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸ ˡᵒᵛᵉˡᶦᵉˢˢˢˢˢ

— ᴬ/ᴺ: ʸ'ᵃˡˡ ᶦᵐ ʰᵃᵛᶦⁿ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʰᵃᵗᵉ ʳᵉˡᵃᵗᶦⁿˢʰᶦᵖ ʷᶦᵗʰ ᵗʰᶦˢ ᶠᶦᶜ ᵘᵍʰʰʰʰʰ ᵇᵘᵗ ˡᶦᵏᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᶦˡ "ᴵᶠ ᴴᵉ ᴴᵃᵈ ᴮᵉᵉⁿ ᵂᶦᵗʰ ᴹᵉ" ᶠʳᶦᵉⁿᵈˢʰᶦᵖ ᵈʸⁿᵃᵐᶦᶜ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᶦˣᵉᵈ ᶦⁿ ʷᶦᵗʰ ᴹᶦˡᵉ'ˢ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿᵃˡᶦᵗʸ ᶦᵗ'ˢ ˢᵒ ᶠᶦᵗᵗᶦⁿᵍᵎ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵐʸᵇ ᵗʰᶦˢ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ˡᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᶦᵗ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵍᶦʳˡ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵇᵘˢʸʸʸ. ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᶦˢ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵖᵒˢᵗᵉᵈ ʷᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᴳᴺᵎ ᴴᵉᵃᵈᶜᵃⁿᵒⁿˢ ᶜᵒᵐᶦⁿᵍ ʸᵃʸʸʸ. ⁽ᴬˡˢᵒᵒᵒᵒ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᶦ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʳᵉ��ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ ᵗʰᶦˢ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᶦˢ ᴴᴱᴬⱽᴵᴸʸ ᶦⁿˢᵖᶦʳᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖˡᵒᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ" ᴵᶠ ᴴᵉ ᴴᵃᵈ ᴮᵉᵉⁿ ᵂᶦᵗʰ ᴹᵉ" ʷᶦᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳᵃᵍᶦᶜ ᵃˢˢ ᵉⁿᵈᶦⁿᵍ⁾

Since the beginning, as far back as you can remember there was never a time when the tall curly haired boy wasn't in your life, this proved to be true when your dynamic duo had matching cribs as babies an inseparable bond as kids and practically soul ties as teens.

It had been Miles and you against the world together for as long as you've been alive. A universally proclaimed couple and you couldn't be happier to have him.

When you we're kid's and your Mom worked as a teacher at your school she did everything in her power to keep you and he close. You'd hold hands during recess share your snacks at and get each other toys on valentine's day it was the purest kind of love.

Then one day as you and your best friend were sat on the stairs of your apartment sharing an empanada he stood up. Miles took the blue ring pop out of his back pocket blush prominent against your brown skin as he got down on one knee in front of you.

"Me and my Mami went to a big party last month called a wedding and she said when you like somebody a lot this is what you do" he smiled fallen baby teeth obvious. His grubby hands pushed the ring on your equally little fingers "And I like you way more than a lot" He huffed proudly.

"I like you way more than a lot too Mile's" your chunky cheeks raised to a smiled. Rio accepted you as her daughter in-law with no objections.

Your childhood day's went by as fast as they came, and pretty soon you and Miles were in high school, older now. There you and he quickly discovered that everybody had somebody and if somehow you didn't, it was bound to happen. So Miles took it upon himself to fend off any guy that even thought about going their with you acting as personal bodyguard from then on out.

"Ma, that nigga just whistled at you and you want me to do nothin?" he looked down at you with a stunned expression "You can't be serious". One of the underclassman had just wolf whistled at you probably to impress his friends and even though being gawked at was never a great feeling you shrugged him off. Being a girl means getting cat called was inevitable, and despite you trying to convince him it was okay, Miles was gonna knock the teeth down the freshman's throat if you didn't stop him. You sighed hand on his cheek now making him look at you "I know miles but its whatever really, I'm not worried about it so you—" and before you could even get the words out he was gone bolting after the terrified kid.

He also made damn sure to fend of the constant flow of groupies that gravitated to him. When girl's would push past and approach him right in front of you, you'd always keep it classy, but a side-eye or a murmur under your breath sounding a lot like "desperate bitch" when they would shamelessly flirt with Miles immediately gave away your jealousy.

"So whats good with you and that one girl?" you tried to say calmly as Miles laid his head comfortably on your lap, but the venom in your voice as you choked out her name was all but discreet. "Who even is that?" he looked up at you lost "Her name Ashley or somethin' you know, tall, blonde, annoying— always has her hands on you even though she got a whole man" you tried to sound nonchalant but that petty quip didn't go unnoticed.

at that, his eyes widened and he scrunched his face with a scoff " Cálmate nena nadie se preocupó por su culo sediento I don't want her hermosa" He smiled squishing your pouting face.

He clicked his tongue mumbling something about how you gotta stop asking him dumb shit "I'on know whats with her and following me around but nah you know I don't be feelin' these other girls" he smirked an emphasis on Other.

The care was mutual you we're always there for Miles especially when the news about the murder of the NYPD chief of police came about. Every step of the way you could be found giving support at the funeral you kept Miles shaking hand in the comfort of your own reassuring he'd get through it.

You were there when he came to your window one night breaking down as you saw him adorned in his prowler suit for the first time. No you weren't the most thrilled when he begrudgingly confessed that he was in fact the Brooklyn vigilante on the news and no this wasn't the greatest way to grief. Still, you stayed by his side and supported him at the end of the day he was a grieving boy confiding in you, something he couldn't with his own mother, so you'd hide the suit in your closet, kiss his forehead and tell him it was okay.

You and he being together for all the intimate moments in life gave you a sense of security, it made it easy for you to assume what you had was more than a friendship. That's why your ever questioning friends cornering you about it resonated all the more.

You were sat at lunch checking your phone when your friend Kim flopped dramatically in her chair "Ughhh its not fair, why all the nigga's here gotta be such assholes" she complained to no in particular. Your group laughed but she was not amused "Nah I'm for real y'all, like seriously where the guys like Miles be at" she pouted "I'd kill to have what y'all do always bein' cute and shit s'damn shame the rest of us mere mortals don't" with a sigh she rested her head on your shoulder now "too bad your not datin' he a catch girl".

"Wait what?" you dropped your fork taken a back "What do you mean we're not dating?" the table looked at you with confusion "Well are you? I mean you don't refer to him as your boyfriend" the same curly headed girl spoke . You were speechless " A'ight so what Kim because I'm not showin' my man to everything that breathes means we're not dating?— we're just private people the whole school doesn't have to be involved to officiate our relationship" you huffed, irritated.

Another friend of yours started hesitantly "Right and that's cute and all hon' but this gives more situation-ship then anything, you two never post each other but your always hanging out and gettin' jealous over the other, You do all the couple things without the label" she raised her hands defensively. The whole table collectively agreed was that really all you and Mile's were? A glorified situation-ship?.

You wanted to argue, but what could you have even said? Mile's didn't ever ask you to be his girlfriend and he wasn't physically affectionate to you in school. If he popped up with a girlfriend tomorrow you wouldn't even have a valid argument. So on the walk home you made up your mind to figure out where you stood with him.

You’re both watching Netflix on your living room floor your back pressed against his chest, you sat between his legs warm breath hovering over your neck while he’s got a soothing hand rubbing your thigh, “Miles what are we doing?” it pauses upon your question registering. “Uh- thought we was watching grand army mami why you tryna do somthin' else?” "Don't be cute Miles I'm being serious" you deadpan losing patience by the second at that he straightens. "Okay whachu' mean by 'what are we doing' Ma? I'on read minds" "What are we doing like relationship wise? like am I your girlfriend—"

He looks confused and a little hurt, his entire face scrunched shocked you'd even ask. He runs a hand down his face in disbelief “All these years of me showing jus' how much I love and obsess over you, and your dead-ass askin' me if your my girlfriend.” he says looking at you with the most dumbfounded expression. “ The late nights, matchin' sneakers random bouquets of flowers? Como oh dios mio chica were the signs not there Princessa?” he says sarcastically an eyebrow raised.

You flush recalling just how much he does for you, “No Miles s’not that kinda stuff. I don't know me and some friends we're talking and they just made me realise you've like never explicitly asked me out before, in school we're not affectionate either and y'know I just started thinkin' i didn't mean as much to you as I thought....” you mumble. he stares at you sombrely thinking from your perspective he could understand why it looked that way.

He yanks you on his lap making you look at him and pushes a fallen curl from your now shy face "Un-fuckin-believable" he murmurs. You're avoiding eye contact when he grips your chin looking you in the eyes and kisses you. It was hopeless with this boy, you walked in radiating a bold confidence and he reduced you to a shy, flustered puddle, you tried you couldn't keep the irritated facade around him Miles made you melt like butter.

"Tienes que dejar de escuchar a tus amigos tontos, pero lo siento Mami. Y'know I never meant to make you think tha' way right? 'course your my girlfriend" he says softly and sincerely. "Sides' it's been me and you against the world since our matchin' cribs" he teases poking your side and you cant help but laugh.

In that moment all the doubts your friends had planted in your head vanished it really was you and Miles against the world. He never doubted it and now you wouldn't ever again.

TAGS

@sangwoosbsf

[kriscommitscrimes]

IN-DEPTH CHARACTER ANALYSIS OF KRIS(MAS) DREEMURR

Hello! I've wanted to make this post for a WHILE now, since Kris is my favourite character ever, and I LOVE analyzing characters!!

Anyway before I start just remember that people consume media differently, and this is just what I've personally picked up on. You may interpret certain points I make differently to me, and that's ok! I'm just sharing MY analysis of Kris, at the end of the day, they're a character who has never spoken any dialogue that's visible to us, so their intentions behind certain things could be interpreted differently depending on who's consuming the media.

Kris will be EXCLUSIVELY referred to by they/them (they/them/themself specifically) pronouns throughout this post. If you refer to them as anything other than they/them while interacting with this post I'm gonna block you on the spot sorry.

ANALYSIS BELOW THE CUT BECAUSE IT'S LONG!!! TW there's probably some swearing I can't remember

By the way, I'm not including any screenshots because I. forgot to take them last time I played through Deltarune, but the next time that I do, I'm going to make like a revamped version of this post with screenshots. Sorry about that!!

Kris is their own, separate character from the player. This is a no-brainer if you've actually played through Deltarune and paid the slightest bit of attention to it. Kris is their own, separate character with a VERY distinct, interesting personality, who had a life before the events of Deltarune, and even still has control over some things that they say and do while in our control.

Kris isn't actually a quiet person. Kris, in reality, is an overdramatic, sassy, talkative person who often draws attention to themself by scaring people (especially Noelle), and causing scenes. They CONSTANTLY play mean spirited pranks on Noelle or pressure her into things (I'm NOT talking about Snowgrave, I'll get to thar later), like shaking the ferris wheel carriage despite Noelle being scared of heights, and telling her that ICE-E is real and eats kids. They still do this during the events for Deltarune, like if you go against Noelle's wishes and pet the cheese, Kris strokes it like a cat, and if you give Noelle a healing item called a Choco Diamond, she says something along the lines of 'Umm, it's ok, Kris, I'll share', and both of them get healed. We don't choose for Kris to force Noelle to share, that's a decision they make. As for drawing attention to themself, the first thing that comes to mind is they falling to the ground and sulking when they're too short and weak to play Queen's arcade machine, or them barking at Noelle when she offers them a dog treat. They're loud and impulsive, shown when they eat the pie at the end of chapter one, repeatedly kicking the robot in the basement when nothing happens originally before the Sneo fight, eating all of the chocolate Undyne gives them to give to Alphys if you interact with the box, and screaming that they're normal if you call Toriel after watching her conversation with Alphys at the start of chapter two. Speaking of which...

Kris seems to have identity issues. This is one of the things here that everyone in the fandom is kind of already aware of, but this is a full character analysis, so it's still important to mention. Kris is the only human in Hometown, but desperately wants to be perceived as normal. They scream it at Toriel like I mentioned earlier, they wore a headband with red horns on it when they were little to look more like a boss monster, and they seem actively disgusting or even frightened by other humans. They also seem to be living in their brother's shadow a bit, which may be why they like drawing attention to themself. Everything I've said about their personality seems to be a little on the negative side so far, but everyone in Hometown knows their name, and seems to quite like them, so why is this? Well...

Kris is charming, well-spoken, and funny. They're a prankster known for pulling mean-spirited pranks on people, but even still characters like Noelle look back at those things fondly, and everyone in Hometown seems to like spending time with Kris. Kris' flirting abilities are pretty obvious, and are used to win over loads of Darkners, not to mention their ability to formulate a compelling speech on the spot, as shown during the first Queen battle when toasting to her. They easily win people over, especially if they like a person, I mean, they became best friends with their former bully in a DAY! A DAY!!! People seem to find them just genuinely fun to hang around, probably due to them just being a funny, charming, somewhat balls of the walls kinda person.

Kris is NOT evil or malicious. This is one of the most important points I've wanted to make on this post. I've seen the theory that Kris is evil because they don't actively do anything to prevent Snowgrave from happening tossed around and I'm here to say that that is actually fucking stupid sorry. Normally I HATE being mean about people's theories because, like I said, everyone consumes media differently, but that one is just genuinely terrible. I'd say it's WAY more likely that as Noelle gets strong, out control over Kris becomes stronger. Normally, when we choose an option to make Kris say or do something, they ELABORATE on that, which is confirmed by how characters interact with them. We just can't see them speaking to give the illusion that they're a blank slate, under our full control. But, during Snowgrave, they just say EXACTLY what you tell them to say. If you tell them to say 'We're something else', they just say 'We're something else'. If you tell them to say 'Proceed', they just say 'Proceed'. Sure, you could put this towards them not caring, but after Berdly is frozen and you reunite with Ralsei and Susie, both of them say that Kris looks HURT. And later on, they REFUSE to go and see Noelle in her room. The refuse to THINK about it. They're not happy with what happened. They didn't want to go around freezing people. But the one thing that Really stood out to me, was during the Snowgrave Spamton Neo fight. Near the end, you have the option to call Ralsei and Susie for help, which prompts the flavour text; 'Kris called for Susie and Ralsei... But nobody came'. After that, you have to call Noelle for help to finish the battle, which prompts the dialogue; 'You called for Noelle'. Spamton states that Kris could barely whisper her name. They're trying to stop you from calling for her. Those aren't their words. I think that kind of confirms that they didn't want Snowgrave to happen. Kris is just a funny teenager with identity issues, they're not evil. Sorry evil Kris fans.

Kris probably isn't the Roaring Knight. They're A knight, but not THE knight. So far, they don't REALLY have any motivation for opening the first two fountains that I'm aware of, and I doubt they knew they could open a fountain until Queen's speech at the end of Chapter 2. At the end of Chapter 2, however, they do seem to have a motivation to open a fountain. They (presumably) slash Toriel's tyres to stop her from leaving the house to go and get flour. They want her to see the Dark World. And if you choose the option to talk to Undyne about the Dark World, Kris explains it to her in FULL DETAIL, but she brushes it off as a joke. Toriel finding her tyres slashed leads her to call the guards, and Kris leaves the door of the house wide open. They want Undyne to see the Dark World, I don't know WHY, but they do for some reason. But I REALLY doubt they're the Roaring Knight, they just don't have the motivation, and if it is them, it would be really weird for Toby to reveal that so early. I really doubt that kid wants to bring on the end of the world.

That's all I have for now!! Expect a more fleshed out version of this next time I play Deltarune with screenshots and such, though I may wait until chapter 3 and 4 come out! Thanks for reading!

[suzukiblu]

Parasite WIP is so good and I desperately want more of it! I voted for it in the poll and I’m so sad it didn’t win

Friend, I appreciate you asking after it because it really is one of my fucked-up faves that I really need to work on more, so uh . . . have all 4500 words of the prose so far all together, hahaha. Yes, yes I DID reformat this whole thing into Tumblr-friendliness all for you. THAT IS HOW MUCH I APPRECIATE YOUR APPRECIATION, FRIEND. ( so definitely we are gonna need that read-more down there, lol. )

Clark wakes up. 

Clark didn't even know he wasn't awake. 

"Superman," Bruce says with absolute neutrality. He's wearing the cowl. Standing in rubble. Clark is . . . not standing in rubble. 

Laying in rubble. That's what Clark is doing. 

Bruce is looking down at him very, very carefully, and seems . . . reserved. 

Reserved for Bruce, even. 

"What happened?" Clark asks, trying not to concentrate on the little seed of dread that the sight of that reservation invokes in him. He can hear the heartbeats of other League members, here and there in the wreckage of the street around them. Hear civilians and city noise. Hear Lois and Jon, distantly, and Ma and Pa, even more distant. And . . . Kara–both of her–and . . . 

"We'll go with 'electrocution', but I think we can safely say just about anyone else would've been virtually incinerated," Bruce informs him, distracting Clark from his mental rundown of people he's currently worried about. "Or just exploded."

"Ah," Clark says with a grimace. Well, that explains why his head hurts so damn bad, he guesses.

At least it was him, then, and not any "anyone else"s. 

He pushes himself up. Looks around. He . . . isn't sure where they are, exactly, except that it's probably somewhere on Earth and within the continental United States, judging by the architecture and signs he's seeing and the accents and languages he's hearing. 

He has absolutely no idea how they got here, though. The last thing he remembers is . . . 

. . . he's not actually sure what the last thing he remembers is. 

Not a great sign, that.  

Bruce is watching him. Like he's . . . expecting something, almost. Clark would ask, but there's an odd feeling distracting him. Something's . . . off, somehow. 

Missing. 

Bruce's utility belt is a new design, he notes absently. J'onn is down the street a bit and his costume looks a little different too. And Diana . . . 

Diana is over across the way, and her hair is a couple inches longer than he remembers it being. 

Clark would assume he was mistaken, except for the eidetic memory and all. 

"Hm," Clark says. 

"Hm?" Bruce says. He still sounds faultlessly neutral. 

"Trying to figure out if I'm in the right reality. Things look a little off," Clark replies, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes in concentration. No unexpected sounds or scents. No particular feeling of disorientation that can't be accounted for by being apparently electrocuted. No additional pains past the dull pressure in his head or any immediately obvious peculiarities beyond the minor little scattered differences here and there in his teammates. 

But something is–

"I can't hear Kon," Clark realizes abruptly. He doesn't usually especially keep an ear out for the kid, at least not deliberately, but . . . 

Bruce . . . pauses. 

"You can't," he says, very carefully. It doesn't sound like a question. 

It sounds like something, though. 

"I can't," Clark confirms anyway, glancing around again. He still doesn't know where this is. "Where are we, exactly?" 

"What's the date, Kal?" Bruce asks, and Clark's heart sinks. 

He answers the question. 

Bruce's mouth thins. 

Hell, Clark thinks. 

"We're currently in Keystone City," Bruce says, very carefully expressionless. "We've been here for three days. The date you just provided me was a full fourteen months ago. And Kon-El has been MIA for roughly thirteen and a half of those months." 

Hell, Clark thinks, and doesn't let himself process anything past that. 

"We need to get a scan of your brain," Bruce says. "For starters." 

"For starters," Clark agrees tightly. 

Bruce tells Diana they're leaving, then abandons the rubble and takes Clark up to the Watchtower. Clark goes. He doesn't ask what electrocuted him or who's died in the past fourteen months or if there's anything immediately urgent that he should know. Bruce would've already told him, if there was. 

And he thinks he'd choke on the question if he tried, anyway. 

They go to the med bay. There's a total stranger standing in it who smiles at them when they step through the door. 

"Haven't seen you in here in quite a while, Superman," the stranger observes in amusement, tapping a pen against the clipboard in their hands. "You still haven't been in for that checkup I owe you, you know." 

"He doesn't know you," Bruce informs them evenly. The stranger blinks. 

"Sorry?" they say. 

"He was electrocuted," Bruce says. "Now he thinks it's fourteen months ago. We need a brain scan. Immediately." 

"Hell," the stranger says, their eyes widening in alarm. 

Clark gets the brain scan. 

He and Bruce wait in a convenient exam room for the results, which seem to be taking a while. Bruce seems a bit more guarded than usual, which means Clark is standing next to goddamn Fort Knox right now. He sighs to himself. 

"Suppose at this rate I should call and tell Lois and Jon I'll be late for dinner," he jokes wryly as he folds his arms, no real humor in the comment, and Bruce goes very, very still beside him. 

. . . hell. 

They're not dead. He knows they're not dead, he heard their heartbeats before they left for the watchtower, Bruce would've already told him if either of them were–

"They aren't expecting you," Bruce says with absolutely no intonation whatsoever in his voice. "You moved out eight months ago. The divorce is already finalized." 

"Ah," Clark says, very slowly. He doesn't let himself process, again. Not–just, not yet. "What happened?" 

"You left them," Bruce says, and Clark . . . blinks. 

"I left them?!" he demands incredulously. Leaving Lois is one thing, horrible and impossible a thought as it is, but– "Not just–I left them both?!"

"As you explained it to me, you were no longer interested in maintaining the . . . 'persona' of Clark Kent," Bruce replies carefully, looking just past him. "You said you couldn't stand the screaming anymore. That you appreciated us . . . humoring you for so long, but you couldn't just keep walking around making excuses and lying to everyone while people were suffering and dying just because you had to pretend to be human for a while. So yes. You left them. Haven't visited since Lois finally signed the divorce papers. Haven't spoken to your parents either. You've been . . . erratic. Since Kon-El's disappearance. When we couldn't find him . . . when we couldn't even find out what happened to him . . ." 

"Oh," Clark says, and his heart sinks again. 

He doesn't understand, though. Kon is–he cares about the kid, obviously. Cares very deeply about him. He's pretty sure he even loves him, at this point. But he's not . . . 

It feels terrible to think it, but Clark doesn't understand why Kon disappearing like that would affect him enough to stop being Clark. It's awful, and he still hasn't let himself actually think about it happening at all because he really can't process it right now, but that awful? Really? Awful enough to abandon being any semblance of a normal person? Abandon Lois and his parents entirely? 

Abandon Jon entirely? 

Apparently, yes. 

"Technically you're on unpaid sabbatical from the Planet," Bruce tells him. "We thought you might . . . reconsider, once you'd grieved properly, so Lois pulled some strings with Perry White. He thinks you're having an early mid-life crisis and your co-workers think you're off finding yourself in South America with a bad cell phone plan." 

"I guess I don't believe in satellite phones?" Clark says, trying for wry again. It doesn't work, but he tries all the same. 

"This is unfair of me, but I'm going to take advantage of your current mental state," Bruce says. He's looking at the wall, though there's nothing there to actually be looking at. Not even anything on the other side, at least not according to X-ray vision. "Try to remember how you feel right now, when your memories of the past year return. Try to remember who you are right now, when those memories return."

"Why?" Clark asks, watching him carefully as he does. The corners of Bruce's mouth tighten. Just barely, but undeniably. 

"You've been . . . gone, Clark," Bruce says slowly. "You won't even answer to 'Clark' anymore. You aren't the same man that I . . . that we all . . ." 

The stranger comes back before Bruce has to admit to too many personal feelings or Clark can figure out what to say to any of that, which might be a mercy but might also be–

The stranger looks . . . strange, Clark notices. Nauseated, almost. And definitely distressed. 

"I haven't done brain scans on Superman before," they say, their grip on their clipboard concerningly close to white-knuckled. "And my predecessor apparently hadn't done any in a while either. Last ones in the system are over two years old." 

"What's wrong?" Bruce says, narrowing his eyes. Honestly at this point Clark figures a kryptonite brain tumor would really just be the icing on the cake, and frankly would probably explain some of his apparent behavioral changes and current memory loss. That genuinely makes more sense than anything else, really, even with grief and guilt to contend with.

More sense than abandoning his own damn kid does, at least. 

Although a tumor's the worst-case scenario, obviously. And it can't be any worse than that, really, or any worse than anything he's apparently done to his family this past year, so at least he's braced for–

"There's an . . . organism," the stranger says, swallowing uncomfortably. "In your brain." 

"What?" Clark says. 

"A dead organism, now," the stranger clarifies. "But it looks like it's been there for a while. There are . . . roots. And . . . lesions, too." 

"An organism," Bruce repeats very, very slowly. "In Superman's brain." 

"Yes," the stranger says. 

"I don't . . ." Clark trails off. 

"We need more scans," Bruce says. 

"I ran it four times on two different machines," the stranger says. "It's organic. It's not giving off any recognizable life signs. It seems like it might've been . . . you mentioned electrocution, before?" 

"You think the electricity killed it," Bruce realizes. "And then Superman forgot fourteen months?" 

"I'm not sure Superman ever experienced those fourteen months to begin with," the stranger says tightly, gripping their clipboard even harder. 

Clark was in no way whatsoever braced for this. 

"Fuck," Bruce says. 

More scans happen after all. A lot more scans, a lot of specialists, and a lot of arguing. Everything's a bit of a blur, in a sense. Clark absorbs very little of it, and mostly leaves things to Bruce unless he's asked a direct question about his medical history. His judgment might be compromised right now, after all, whether the . . . organism is dead or not. 

The emergency OR gets prepped. The red sun lamps get set up inside it. 

"Should we contact Lois?" Bruce asks as Clark's shrugging into an ill-fitting hospital gown and preparing himself to possibly die in pursuit of getting a dead who-knows-what out of his brain before it can start to rot there and potentially kill him that way. "Or your parents?" 

"No," Clark says. "Just get this damn thing out of my head." 

If he doesn't survive the removal process . . . 

They don't know what's been going on. What he let happen to himself, somehow.

He isn't going to tell them he's back just to immediately take himself away again. 

He records something for Jon, just in case. It's not enough, but it's–something, he tells himself. It's something. 

It's all he can bring himself to do. 

He leaves the disk with the recording on it with Bruce and asks him to have Dick deliver it, if it's necessary. 

Things proceed from there, and Clark wakes up again a week later in a private room in the med bay, connected to half a dozen machines and needles and tubes and directly facing the sun. Diana is dozing in the chair next to his bed. Bruce is pacing at the foot of it. They're both in costume. Clark feels weak and groggy, but he can hear half a dozen other heartbeats lingering in the hall, so presumably they were expecting him to wake up around now. 

"Mm," he says. Diana snaps awake. Bruce stops mid-step. 

They both look at him. 

"The operation was a success," Bruce informs him. "Textbook. Or as textbook as removing a mind-controlling parasite of unknown origins from a Kryptonian brain can get for mostly-human surgeons, anyway." 

"Do you need anything?" Diana asks. "Would you like us to call your family yet?" 

Clark shakes his head, then closes his eyes and sleeps for another week. 

"Sleep", he supposes, counts as something that he needs right now. 

The next time he wakes up, he's alone in his room and disconnected from the machines and just feels . . . normal, really. Like nothing was ever wrong at all and he didn't just have major surgery that was, essentially, the equivalent of multiple traumatic brain injuries. His hair is already starting to grow back from where it was buzzed down for the surgery, and there's not even any bandages on his head. 

There's no noticeable scarring, Clark observes when he makes it to the little ensuite bathroom to take a look in the mirror. The surgeons told him there probably wouldn't be, given both the methods they'd been intending to use and the nature of his own physiology, but seeing the total lack of proof of what happened to him is just . . . strange, somehow. 

It feels almost like a cheat. Like it should be obvious, in some way. 

There was a parasite in his head. Something controlling him. Pretending to be him. Passing for him. It could've done anything it wanted. 

It did do things that Clark still has no idea about. 

So many things. 

He couldn't even fight it. Wasn't conscious or aware enough to, or just not strong enough to, or just . . . 

He couldn't even fight it. 

And he doesn't know what it did. 

The door opens. Diana walks in. 

"Would you like us to call your family now?" she asks. 

"Yes," Clark says roughly, curling his fingers around the sides of the sink in front of him. "Please." 

"Of course," Diana says with a terrible and merciless gentleness. 

Clark sits down on the lid of the toilet and just . . . cries. Just for a minute. 

Or twenty. 

Diana kneels in front of him and holds his hands in her own. 

Fourteen months, Clark thinks, all twisted up with grief and pain and so, so much regret. He missed so much. He wasn't there for Jon or Lois or his parents. He wasn't there for Bruce or Diana or the League, for either of Kara, for . . . 

For Kon. He wasn't there for Kon. 

Wasn't there for Kon when the kid needed him. 

Kon completely vanished, and who knows if the damn parasite even pretended to help look for him? If it did anything at all for him? Who knows if Clark could've found him, could've saved him, if he'd still been himself at the time? 

. . . who knows if the parasite isn't what made Kon disappear to begin with? 

It took fourteen months of Clark's life, and Kon . . . Kon disappeared two weeks into those fourteen months. 

If nothing else, the timing is a screaming red flag. 

Clark abandoned his son and might've murdered a kid who only ever looked up to him, a kid who he was never really able to fully understand but literally named, and he can't do anything to bring Kon back or to make up for the year that he wasn't there for the rest of his family. 

Their family. 

God, what has he done? What has Clark done, and did Kon die feeling afraid or shocked or terrified? Did he die feeling betrayed? Did he think it was Clark doing it, however it happened? 

Did he die thinking Clark wanted him to die? 

Clark doesn't even know what happened to his body. 

There won't be another resurrection.  

Clark chokes. Diana squeezes his hands. He grips hers like a lifeline and shudders through it. The grief is a terrible, ugly thing. It's one of the worst things Clark's ever felt. 

The guilt is worse. 

"Lois," he murmurs finally, feeling like the weakest man alive. "Could you call . . . Lois, please, and just . . . ask if she'll come. I'll explain it all to her, just–could you call her, please." 

"Yes," Diana says, squeezing his hands again. "Of course." 

"Thank you," Clark says. 

He pulls himself together, more or less, and Diana goes to make the call. She comes back a few minutes later and tells him Lois agreed, but needs to find a babysitter first. Clark in no way blames her for not bringing Jon along and frankly is surprised she's willing to come at all. 

He's not sure what he could even say to Jon right now. 

What can he? 

Diana makes sure he eats something, then leaves for monitor duty. Clark tries not to overthink things. Tries not to think too much at all. 

He spent fourteen months not thinking at all, though, all of it lost in one oblivious blink, so that doesn't work out all that well for him. 

An hour later, he hears the Zeta platform activate on the opposite side of the base, and hears Lois's heartbeat appear inside the watchtower. 

Clark exhales, very slowly. 

He waits. 

Lois comes to the med bay. She doesn't stop to talk to anyone on the way. Doesn't talk to anyone except that stranger Clark still doesn't actually know the name of, who tells her where to find him. 

And then a minute or a millennium later she's standing in the open doorway of his room, and Clark is looking at her. Her expression is neutral, and her hair is shorter than it was the last time he remembers seeing her–the last time he was the one actually seeing her. An inverse bob, not shoulder-length anymore. He recognizes the blazer and heels that she's wearing, but not the blouse or the pants. Not the earrings or the necklace, either. 

And there's no wedding ring to recognize either way. 

Clark wonders what happened to his. 

God, but she's still the most amazing woman he's ever seen, and he's still never once deserved a single part of her. Not even a fraction of a part. 

Especially not now. 

"Kal," she greets, tone just as neutral as her expression, and Clark aches. 

"Clark," he says, just a little too abrupt, and Lois–pauses. 

"Clark," she amends casually as she tucks her hands into the pockets of her blazer, and if he didn't know her quite so well he wouldn't have even heard the crack in her voice around his name, super-hearing or not. "Never seen your hair this short. I kinda miss the curl, not gonna lie. It has charm, you know? Very boy scout next door." 

"I had emergency brain surgery," Clark says. Lois pauses again. Tilts her head. He keeps talking. "Two weeks ago, now. Just woke up again fully today." 

"What?" she says, just staring at him. "You–what happened?" 

"It's . . . unclear, still," Clark replies slowly. "But as far as we can tell, roughly fourteen months back an unidentified alien parasite moved into my brain and . . . took me over, essentially. I don't actually–I don't remember any of that time. At all. Then two weeks ago I got electrocuted in Keystone and the parasite died. The surgery was to remove its body so my brain could heal from the damage it did without it rotting in there." 

Lois keeps staring at him. 

"Fourteen months," she echoes very, very carefully. 

"I'm so sorry," Clark says tightly. "Bruce told me I left you. Left you and Jon. That I stopped being . . . myself. I can't imagine how difficult that was, or how it must've felt." 

"I can't imagine how waking up and hearing that none of us even noticed you were gone felt," Lois says. 

"You never do pull a punch, do you," Clark says with a weak attempt at a smile. 

"I'm sorry," Lois says evenly. "I should've known." 

"No one did," Clark says, then . . . hesitates. "Or . . . we think no one did." 

"You think that's what happened to Kon," Lois says, because of course she's already done the math, and of course she's already had the thought herself. Obviously she would've. 

"The timing is . . . likely, at least," Clark says. "And really, if anyone was going to see my face and notice that a different person was wearing it . . ."

"You have a point," Lois murmurs. She steps into the room. Clark wants to hold her. He also wants to bury himself in the coldest, darkest place that he can find and never, ever let himself see the sun again. 

He doesn't deserve it anymore. 

"I'm so angry that I want to cry," Lois says, her voice very distant and her eyes locked on his. Clark can see her hands fisting in her pockets. "I'm so . . . god. I should've known. You never would've left Jon. Not like that." 

"Bruce made it sound like the parasite was . . . very convincing," Clark says. It convinced Bruce, who may just be the most paranoid mind on the planet, so . . .

"It was," Lois agrees, still without taking her eyes off his. "But I still should've known." 

Clark blinks a little too quickly. Lois tightens her jaw. Takes her hands out of her pockets and leaves them at her sides instead. Clark never thought he'd see them without her wedding ring again. 

"It's been–months, I know," he says, hating himself for thinking he even deserves to say this. "For you. But I still . . ." 

"I love you," Lois says. "Come home." 

There is no possible world in which he could tell her "no". 

Med bay makes him wait for another two hours of observation and runs some scans, but then they let him go. Lois waits with him the whole time. She doesn't call anyone or send any texts. Doesn't leave the room. Barely says a word. Hardly even takes her eyes off him, like she thinks if she blinks he's going to disappear. 

Clark can hardly keep her heartbeat out of his ears, so he doesn't blame her. 

He doesn't blame her at all. 

They go to Smallville. Bruce had said he'd send Dick to pick up Jon from the babysitter's and get him to the farm, and as much as Clark had wanted to go straight to him himself . . . 

Ma and Pa first, he reminds himself. This is going to be upsetting for Jon–most likely traumatic, once it all sinks in. And definitely disorienting. It'll be best if as many of the adults in his life as possible know what's going on in advance, so he can go to whoever he needs to go to; get whatever comfort they can prepare themselves to offer. 

Clark doesn't know how to do this. 

He doesn't . . . 

They don't take two steps onto the farm before a familiar blur is crashing into him head-on. 

"Oh," Clark manages, and Krypto barks excitedly and flies up to lick his face, tail wagging wildly as he jumps all over him. Like he's missed him. Like he's been waiting for him. 

Clark nearly cries again.

"Good boy, Krypto," he tells him, quiet and rough. "I missed you too, boy." 

He scratches Krypto's ears. Strokes his back. Krypto nearly bowls him over in delight. 

Clark buries his face in his neck and cries a bit after all. 

Lois watches. 

Waits. 

Clark spends . . . maybe a little bit too long crying on his dog, and then they all head up to the house. Ma and Pa are both standing on the porch; presumably they heard Krypto barking. They both look a little bit startled and a little bit confused and a lot more pained at the sight of him, and Clark swallows painfully and stops just before the porch steps. 

He looks at them, and he loves them so desperately. Everything they ever did for him, and everything they've ever been to him, and . . . 

"I'm sorry," he says. "I just . . . there was . . ."

God, the way this hurts. 

"It was mind control," he says. "The past fourteen months or so. I was . . . I wasn't. Wasn't here. Or . . . anywhere." 

"Oh," Ma says, and her eyes are instantly wet with tears. Pa blinks very quickly, his hand curling against the porch railing. 

"I'm so, so sorry," Clark repeats tightly, his own hands in useless fists. "But I'm–back now. I'm home." 

"Oh, Clark," Ma chokes, and then they both throw themselves at him. Clark's been hugged by people with strength far past superhuman, but it's never felt . . . 

No. It's never once felt the same way as when his parents do it. 

They cling to him. He clings back. Krypto barks again and swoops around the knot of them, wagging his tail hard enough to nearly knock Lois over with the force of wind it stirs up. Definitely some of the porch furniture gets displaced. 

Clark feels so much. 

They sit together on the porch, Krypto sprawled contentedly across Clark's lap and Lois on the steps beside him. Clark gives Ma and Pa what explanation he can–tells them everything he knows about Keystone and the electrocution and the watchtower and the surgery and waking up. They watch him just as intently as Lois does the entire time. 

He doesn't . . . he doesn't mention his suspicions about what might've happened to Kon. Not . . . not yet. 

He doesn't know how to. Not to Ma and Pa. Not after he brought the kid here and left him on their doorstep with no real direction and . . . 

Just–he'll tell them. He'll tell them soon. 

Just . . . not yet. 

It's not a very long talk, in the end. Ma and Pa take in everything he says and just take it all in stride, just like they always have. Baby in a spaceship? Kid with superpowers? Son who thinks he can save the whole damn world? 

Of course they take it in stride. 

Clark loves them too much to even define. Too much to even wrap his own head around. They're the best people he knows. The best people he's ever known. 

They don't even think there's anything for him to be sorry for. 

It's . . . painful, a little, when Clark realizes that. 

Or a lot. 

So, so damn painful. 

Clark hears the definitely-not-a-Batmobile coming, far down the road. Three heartbeats inside it. Dick, Damian, and . . . 

Jon. 

Obviously. 

Clark strokes Krypto's ears one last time, then gets up. No one asks him why, but he supposes the look on his face must be answer enough right now. 

He steps off the porch and goes to wait by the driveway. 

It's not that long a wait, but it feels like the better part of eternity.

[zaddyneteyamlovergirl]

His Family: Part Two

Pairings: Platonic! Sully Family x Sully Daughter! Reader 

Warnings: Explicit language, Sibling fighting, SFW, Fluff, Comforting, Teasing, Jake being once again the best Father.  

A/N: Y’ALL BLEW UP THE LAST PART SO HERE'S THE SECOND PART. BEFORE THE START OF AVATAR TWOW. ENJOY ALSO SOME NETEYAM SMUT IS COMING OUT SOON SO STAY TUNED. LO’AK AND READER ARE 13!!!!

Part One: Here

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sometimes Jake wondered if maybe he should’ve stopped after two kids. 

“LO’AK YOU FUCKER GIVE ME BACK MY COMB!” You cried out chasing your brother throughout your family home. The cheeky shit sprints around and you throw yourself in his direction causing him to fall face first into the table while a loud crack echos throughout the room. The rest of your family occupy themselves outside knowing how the two of you often butted heads but immediately stop hearing silence. 

“That’s not good.” Neteyam mumbles to Kiri who hums in ignorance continuing to help Tuk make a flower crown while your Father stands with a sigh and moves to head inside. 

“Dad it wasn’t my fault!” You immediately notice him staring at the both of you angrily as per usual and he leans forward grabbing Lo’aks chin tilting it managing to withhold a wince seeing the purple already begin to develop. 

“Lo’ak, go and see your grandmother and get patched up.” He commands and you instantly shrink hearing the roughness in his tone and Lo’ak does so without a fuss, angrily stomping out passing his other siblings and mother.

“Lo’ak!? Why do you bleed?” You hear Neteyam jab at him and know without a doubt that your twin immediately stuck his middle finger in the air. 

You go to the corner grabbing your brush angrily and sit down your arms wrapping around your legs which are pulled up to your chest whilst you continue to look out, admiring the view of rocks that had been blessed in your sight. 

Jake sighs before moving towards you and sitting down crossing his legs and staring at you with a soft sigh. 

“Babygirl, we’ve talked about you and Lo’ak fighting in the house.” You look up angrily and huff with a pout on your face. The same one you used to where whenever Jake would make you take a bath when you didnt want to when you were younger, which normally meant that he would need to make a good point to get his reasoning across. 

“Dad I don’t understand! How can you just listen to Lo’ak bully me and do nothing! You always raised me to always defend myself!” You grumble and one of Jake’s points immediately goes flying out the window. 

“Babygirl, one day your brother is gonna realise how to grow up. These experiences are going to be the reason as to what makes him a real man, and sadly they will raise you. You both are one of the same, you truly have one another. You are both different flavours of the same cookie. And one day, neither me or your mother will be here. You have to learn how to hold your own ground my love, and both you and that knucklehead of a brother of yours will be appreciative that we let you do it this way. I promise.” You don’t say anything thinking over his words and he watches you with a soft look in his eyes. He immediately grins and grabs you, throwing you into his body while he kisses all over your face and you gag trying desperately to shove his face from yours laughing and desperately trying to arch away from his hands that are now tickling at your sides. 

“Dad! Stop! I’ll pee my pants!” You cry out and he stops seeing your grin and he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your head. 

“Go talk to your brother.” He nods his head in the direction of your twin and you smile pressing a kiss to his cheek. Heading off running off you run into your mother who glares slightly at you while you duck your head and run off. She heads into her home and goes to your Father who sighs and wraps his arms around her waist digging his face in her stomach. 

“You did well ma Jake.” She praises and he grumbles pressing kisses to Neytit’s waist. 

“No more kids.” He looks at her pleadingly. She smirks knowing how he used to beg for them even after Tuk was born. 

“No more.” She states while placing a loving kiss to his forehead. 

“LO’AK!!!”

[luminoustarlight]

Leo Campo is a romantic. He’s a ladies man until he finds the one, but you better believe he treats every woman he’s ever hooked up with like they’re his world. He’s just an affectionate guy. Call it a symptom of being Italian. Pet-names roll off of his tongue smoothly, always punctuated with a little smirk.

“Can I get you anything else, sweetheart?” He’ll ask the unsuspecting girl at the bar.

The most frequent reply is “just your number,” which has definitely gotten old. He doesn’t actually give it out; he just takes them upstairs and gives them something better.

He’s a tender lover, always attentive to the needs of the woman he’s pleasuring. And the women are always satisfied.

Between the adoring nicknames and innate ability to make a woman cum three times before he cums himself, many girls begin hoping for something more than a one night stand. All of it offers them a false sense of the possibility of a relationship. Because how can a man be so sweet and not want something more?

Because Leo Campo is certain he’ll know the love of his life when he sees her. Maybe she walks into the bar, maybe he meets her while he’s coaching soccer.

Or, in your case, at your apartment where he’s delivering pizza.

If only you’d known how handsome the pizza delivery guy was going to be, you would’ve bothered to clean the smeared mascara from your eyes. You wouldn’t have answered the door with an oversized t shirt hanging off one of your shoulders, no bra to hold up your goods, and an old pair of sweatpants you’ve had since college.

“Oh my God,” slips out of your mouth. Your first instinct is to slam the door. Your tongue feels dry and your broken heart hasn’t forgotten how to hammer in your chest. Breakups happen every day. It’s okay that you look like a hot mess, minus the hot part.

You’ve ordered pizza from Vince’s dozens of times and that Jogi kid always delivers your pizza.

Who is this tall, dark-haired man with a smile that makes you think maybe you won’t feel miserable forever?

“How ya doin’?” He asks you, clearly not taking in any context clues as to how your night is going.

“Uh,” you begin unsurely. Are you really about to have a conversation with this guy in a pair of sweatpants with a guacamole stain on the right thigh? “I’ve been better. Hence the absolute atrocity standing before you.”

“Where?” He smiles without missing a beat. Because somewhere beneath your disheveled appearance, he sees a girl he desperately wants to get to know. Who broke your heart? And how does he mend it?

“I don’t suspect you have anyone to share this pizza with?”

“Not as of 8:16 this morning.” Yes, you know the exact minute you found your piece of shit ex-boyfriend cheating on you with his co-worker.

“Well, as of,” Leo checks his watch, “7:24 this evening, now you do.”

“You’re quite bold, aren’t you?”

“I suppose.”

“Aren’t you working?”

He shrugs. “It’s the end of my shift. Are you going to let me in?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Is this the beginning of a Dateline episode?”

This makes Leo chuckle. Of course you’re tentative. You’re an attractive, single woman who has no right trusting any man at all, let alone a random pizza delivery guy.

But there’s something about his smile that quells your anxiety. No ulterior motives, just genuine kindness.

“I can call my Ma, if you want,” Leo suggests half seriously. “You can talk to her and learn everything about me.”

Your bottom lip snags beneath your teeth as you open your door to let the handsome stranger in. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Leo.” He sets down your pizza on the coffee table. “Leo Campo.”

requests are open for leo and several other hayden characters!

anakin masterlist

[lexsssu]

Good Little Girl (Marshall Lee)

TAGS: Mashall/F!Reader, Original child character, parenthood, fluff Ao3 ver.

“Mishael Linus Abadeer, get your sorry butt down here already before your dinner gets cold!”

“Jeez, I’m coming down already, Ma”

“If you don’t hurry up I’ll eat your portion of fresh strawberries, kid~”

“Dad, don’t be so unfair when you already have your own portion!”

“Not my fault if you’re a slowpoke”

A handsome dark-haired youth flew into the humble dining room hurriedly, seating himself at his designated chair and clutching the small bowl of strawberries to his chest as if they were a priceless treasure. His skin had a grayish hue to them, pointed ears peaked from his ebony tufts of luscious hair while a pair of sharp fangs poked from his lips. The scowl he wore didn’t make him look menacing, but rather even more attractive than he already was in the first place.

“Now, now, now. Stop teasing our son already, Marsh. You know how he gets when it comes to his strawberries and besides, aren’t you already too old to be competing with him over food?” You stifled a laugh as you raised an eyebrow at your husband who merely grinned, shrugging in response.

“It’s survival of the fittest, babe. If our own kid doesn’t understand that then he doesn’t deserve the plump and juicy fresh strawberries you’ve painstakingly grown, picked, and washed straight from our garden”

The vampire king wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer, landing a quick kiss to your hair as your preteen son gagged at the public display of affection. “No spawn of mine will grow up ungrateful to their beautiful, amazing, spectacular, wonderful mama~”

Dinner passed by without much fanfare aside from the playful teasing your family generally engaged one another with. Though mainly it was just Marshall being the big bully that he was, something Mishael had already grown used to ever since he was young.

While you washed the dishes, you spotted your son fumbling with his phone as he floated back up to his room. A bright smile lit up his face as a tinge of red gave his cheeks some much needed color and contrast from the grayish hue he’d inherited from his father.

“Lemme guess, he’s probably hung up on Fiona & Evan’s kid...Evie, right?”

Years of being with Marshall had trained you to anticipate his sudden appearance at all possible times that you didn’t even flinch anymore when you hear his voice and feel the warmth of his breath on the back of your neck.

“Mhmm, he’s got it quite bad from the looks of it. Kinda reminds me of another lovesick vampire I knew back in the day…” The corners of your lips quirked upwards in a smile as memories of a time not so long ago flashed in your mind like a cinematic movie.

“Whaddya mean you ‘knew’ back in the day? I’m still very much YOUR lovesick vampire until the universe itself collapses and time ceases to exist, thank you very much”

Placing the last plate upon the dish rack, you wipe your hands dry on the dry dish cloth before gingerly taking the raven-haired male’s face into your hands and pecking his nose. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way, my bad little boy~”

A tender looked slithered its way onto the hybrid’s face, snaking his arms around you until your front was pressed flush against his own. You both floated a few feet off the ground, arms around your waist and your own around his neck as you stared into each other’s eyes.

Marshall Lee had his fair share of relationships over the course of his immortal life, but none had ever enamored him the way you do. None had ever made him want to come home so desperately, even if you were the one who gave him all the freedom he wanted to go off on adventures while waiting patiently for him. His once cold, unbeating heart felt the warmest, the liveliest as long as he was with you.

“Forever’s a long time, ‘ya know? But I’ll be more than happy to let you feel why being MY good little girl is worth it~”

[smoothoper44tor]

Enemies on the papers, lovers in the shadows

(🔖) Pairing: Jenson Button x male reader

Face claim: Andy Samberg

(🔖) Summary: The McLaren boys go from enemies to lovers during the 2010 season. Apparently, they just needed to blow some steam of.

(🔖) Warnings: use of bad words, degradation, internalised homophobia (kinda), free homophobia f1, suggestive, mentions of hate sex.

masterlist | part two…

27 November 2009 . . .

NEWS

Jenson Button on joining fellowship driver Paolo Primo in McLaren for the next 2010 season.

Both drivers had a very intense rivalry this season, having a very close fight for the championship. Primo failed in winning the championship by 32 points. He assured unfair penalisation, which was, according to him once again, Button’s fault, made him lose.

Button and Primo made several displays of hate between each other during press conferences and interviews. Still, Button is “very intrigued in what will this new season bring him”, and alleges he “couldn’t be more happy to be teammates with Paolo [Primo], I love that guy”

More info • you might also like . . .

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ｡･:*˚:✧｡ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ｡･:*˚:✧｡ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ｡･ੈ✩‧₊˚

26 March 2010 . . .

NEWS

Paolo Primo and alleged girlfriend, Joanna Newsom, arriving the Paddock (Melbourne, Australia)

Primo arrived this morning for the first practice along his alleged girlfriend. He hasn’t confirmed being in a relationship, yet they have being seen together in several occasions, being one the Bahrain Grand Prix last week.

He was asked about relationship with teammate Jenson Button after crash in the Bahrain GP, Button was able to keep driving, finishing 7th, but Primo ended DNFing due to damage from the crash. He dismissed the question instantly: “Childs can only act like childs” he said.

Paolo and Jenson were seen having an argument. He was later seen with Lewis Hamilton and Robert Kubica, Renault drivers this season, to not talk to Jenson again for the rest of the morning.

"Get the fuck out, Button" Paolo hissed, barely looking at the blond man. Jenson had sneaked into his drivers room, catching Paolo by surprise while changing into his driving clothes.

"C´mon Pao, don´t be boring" cheekiness brigthed his expression. He kept on trying to get close to the american. Paolo pulled his shirt up, blue eyes glued at him. "I came to check on you" He finally gulped.

"T´thing is I don´t want to fucking see you" Paolo punched the other´s chest with the fireproof in his hand. Jenson could do nothing but back off, his wide smile as a proof he was pleased with the touch. "Seriously, I´m not in the mood" He pronounced each word roughly.

"Stop acting all grumpy, I´m sure we can work this out"

"Work this out! Are ya´ fucking kidding me?" He got closer with each word "I tried to ‘work this out’, and you’ve fucking with me since first day" Jenson was unable to keep his eyes away from him, they were so close. Eyes, lips, eyes, lips, eyes... "Making fun of me, talk shit behind ma´back, fucking my race. My race Jen-" lips. Every word abandoned his mind as Jenson´s hand caressed his curls. His back muscles clenched when the british’s left hand found his waist. The hand curved perfectly against him, shameless teases into his skin. Right when the hand found the curve to his ass Paolo pushed him, not hard enough for them to separate, but rough enough for Jenson to slow down with a desperate breath.

"You kissed me" An amused expression in the curly haired man "Who the fuck kisses in tha’ middle of a fight" Jenson smiled dizzily.

"Things were heating up" He said smugly, the smile on his face growing wider "I didnt figure that girlfriend of yours would mind" That little piece of shit, of course he knew. The team was forcing him into a relationship, good sponsoring they said. Paolo thought nobody would know except his team.

"God, you are an asshole" his hands pushed Jenson against the door of the room hesitant.

"Am I?" The curly haired shallow, ignoring unsuccessfully all the thoughts that run in his head.

"Shut up"

"Man, where were you?" Kubica screamed for his attention as Paolo made his way out of the McLaren motor home. Both Renault drivers looked at him, Robert wearing a cap weirdly and Lewis drinking from his bottle.

"Drivers room, getting ready an´all" he held the racing suit, adjusting the clothing to his waist.

"Having some fun or what?" The older man eyed his neck. Paolo heated up, thinking he had hide the red, now turning purple, spot.

"Uhm, yeah. Having fun" he mumbled. Lewis laughed.

"Hilarious. What a piece you are"

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ｡･:*˚:✧｡ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ｡･:*˚:✧｡ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ｡･ੈ✩‧₊˚

28 August 2010 . . . (Belgium gp)

paoprimo54

❤️ liked by jensonbutton, mclaren and others

Hello Instagram?

comments

user5: he’s so baby girl

jensonbutton: he likes them big

⤷ user5: wow, I wasn’t expecting that

⤷ user2: and he’s talking about en sandwiches right

⤷ user66: be so fcking for right I just knew they banged each other after Australia.

user3: IM GOING INSANE HEs SO BEAUTIFUUUUL 🎀😩

user9: Jensons comments is insane

⤷ user8: those two have the hots for each other

user12: the man you are pao, the man you are 😔

mclaren

❤️ liked by paoprimo54, kimiraikonnen and others

Both of our drivers will renew their contract next year. We’re very proud to count with these young talents, and are be ready to work on the constructors and teams championships!! (tagged: jensonbutton, paoprimo54)

comments

paoprimo54: Looking forward to our relationship together!!

⤷ jensonbutton: Sure you do Pao

user6: IM LOVING THIS MCLAREN ERA 🤭

user23: 💪🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

user9: Lovely team, lovely duo

⤷ user47: destructive duo*

jensonbutton: 💪💪💪

⤷ paoprimo54: shut up nutcase 😘

“God” he lets out a heavy sigh. Both of them naked in the hotel room. All windows were open and a lean blanket covered them dramatically “We should do this more often” Jenson looked beautiful with his dumb characteristic smiled, all flustered.

“What? Screwing in my hotel room?” Paolo laughs, resting his head in his right bicep.

“Yeah, but-” Jenson laughs at his little joke “not what I meant. You and I”

“Are you asking me out honey?” The derision in his tone was more than obvious, but the blond melted with the pet name, every little piece of attention melting his skin lovely.

“I am” The American saw Jenson stand up in his elbows just to see his face better “Do you want to go out with me?” A little smile crawling into his face.

“I don’t know Jense” Paolo knew nothing good could come out of that, they could be seen, filmed, but a little voice in the back of his head whispered prayers for him to accept.

“Italian food” Jense’s smile grew back again because he knew Paolo wouldn’t say no to his favourite food.

“Italian huh?” He bitted his lip annoyed “Shit, fine”

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ｡･:*˚:✧｡ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ｡･:*˚:✧｡ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ｡･ੈ✩‧₊˚

16 November 2010 . . .

skysports

❤️ liked by sebastianvettel, joannanwesom and others

Paolo Primo winner of the Constructors Championship of 2010 with McLaren. He is the first American winner since Mario Andretti in 1978 and first Jew to win a Championship since Jody Scheckter in 1979. After two DNF’s and a rough time getting along with his teammate, Primo scored the most points, being followed very close by Sebastian Vettel Red Bull’s new acquisition.

comments have been restricted

markwebber: Amazing brother💪💪💪

jensonbutton: Very deserved ❤️!

joannanewsom: ❤️❤️❤️

feralonsoofficial: Well done Paolo 💪😘

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ｡･:*˚:✧｡ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ｡･:*˚:✧｡ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ｡･ੈ✩‧₊˚

6 June 2024 . . .

paoprimo54

❤️ liked by jensonbutton, pedrodelarosa and others

I’ve heard there’s been a lot of talking about mine and Jense’s relationship, has been for 15 years. I just wanted to clarify that we did in fact hate each other for long eight years, buuuuut we just needed to blow some steam and now we’re very close (that’s our kid in the last one).

comments

user1: definitely not on my 2024 bingo

⤷ user1: not complaining tho

markwebber: Proud of you guys!

user2: PAO N JENSE HUSBANDS CONFIRMED 💕💍👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨

sebastianvettel: 💪❤️

lewishamilton: Baby Lou looks beautiful!

user3: this is actually my Roman Empire

joannanewsom: ❤️

user5: my favourite gays

⤷ user8: best enemies to lovers fr fr

user13: And during pride month… The way I love u Paolo

logansargeant: Happy pride month I guess lol💪

⤷ paoloprimo54: hahah ❤️

[askinkiskarma]

ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ᴅᴀʏ ᴠ - ᴅᴀᴅᴅʏ ᴋɪɴᴋ

pairing: neteyam x avatar!reader (part of the cardigan saga)

➽ a/n: it's neteyam and atan's world, and we're just living in it! hi besties and welcome to day 5, aka the day that almost killed me bc writing daddy!neteyam is actually much harder to me than i thought it could be. but i wanted so much to give this day to them, since they are my forever favourite pair from my forever favourite work of mine.

you don't have to have read cardigan for this to make sense, although it helps. i hope you enjoy, i've seen a lot of you besties reading cardigan recently and it's nice to know you wouldn't have had to wait as long for this prompt as my og readers, who i've promised this to for far too long hahahhaa my bad.

finally, this will continue in another (or two) kinktober prompts, so enjoyyy ;) x

➽ words: 1.7k words

➽ warnings: it goes without saying, but all of these works (kinktober-related) are smut and therefore minors should NOT interact with them. other warnings include: anal fingering, p in v, pet names, hair pulling.

➽ taglist (x) ➽ kinktober masterlist (x)

➽ na'vi compendium: atan - light, ma 'itan - son, kalin - sweet to the taste

“Come on, ma ‘itan. You have to let go of him at some point, you know?” Letting go of your son was harder on Neteyam than either of you ever envisioned. Well, not really. In truth, he’s always been a born father - loving, caring and attentive, he has been the unofficial parent of three kids ever since he reached puberty, and yet, it’s never made him bitter or deterred. On the contrary, it seemed that the birth of your son, the sweet Kalin, only made him more enthusiastic to put everything he’s learnt about parenthood to good use with his own family. Still, there were times, like right now, where you wanted to remember what it was like to be alone with your mate, the love of your life, the man who you’ve gone trough hell and back with. Solitude was a scarce resource right now, with a babe barely over a year old, but you were lucky to have a village full of people who were more than ready and willing to help babysit, and some who were more excited about it than others - like Neytiri.

“I’ve wanted to have this little one all to myself for so long, we’re going to have so much fun!” Her little coos were adorable and once more you couldn’t help be forever grateful for the person who’s been a mum to you for years now, who loved you and has done so ever since you were born. Although so different, you couldn’t help see your own mother in her, and you were reminded to pay her and your dad a visit at the Tree of Souls. It’s been a while. 

But for now…

“We won’t be too long. Thank you for doing this, sa’nok.” 

“We might be… a little long. Isn’t that so, Atan?”

You chuckled at the quiet desperation in his voice, and, with a roll of your eyes, you clicked in the direction of the tent’s entrance, wordlessly willing him out. This was going to be fun…

It was still risky, coming to the places that used to mean so much to you once, that you had to forsake when you moved to the Metkayina, that you got back once more once you returned home, but you couldn’t help yourselves. Not when these places, this place, in particular, has been one where so many memories, all shared between you two, were made, not when it still brings goosebumps on the surface of your skin, the thought of all you’ve lived through here, from learning how to swim and climb to conceiving your little bundle of joy that was safely back home. You never realised how much being a mother would mean to you - although it was always clear how much being a father meant to Neteyam. You’ve loved him all your life, but somehow never more than when taking care of your son, then when he showered you in love and affection, when he acted like the dad and partner you always knew he would be. 

“I miss this place so much every time we don’t visit for a few days. It’s like after all these years, and all these memories… it’s part of me. It always will be. And even now, I feel like a teenager, obsessed with you, desperate to look into your eyes, excited beyond belief at every glance or touch you send my way.” 

You couldn’t believe how even despite knowing each other since birth, being there for each other every day of your lives, your heart still galloped in your chest any time he spoke, and he still had so much power over you, power to take your breath away with words… and actions.

“Whatever you say… daddy.”

Neteyam turned around almost robotically, alert and frantic as he struggled to make eye contact with you in the least amount of time possible. You chucked at his demeanour, almost predatory, tail perked and unmoving, eyes wide and pupils even more so, swallowing the beautiful yellow of his irises whole. 

“What did you just call me?” 

You smirked and curved an eyebrow in his direction, enjoying the tingly feel that came with doing so, the goosebumps peppered on your skin after being conditioned to expect him to react to it, to unleash on you demons and urges that only you could swallow, only you could help quench. 

“Fuck.” A second later he was by you, and even after a few years in this body, his reflexes still amazed you, still took you by surprise. You gulped at the intensity in his gaze, a gulp that got stuck in your throat as soon as his fingers found your neck, as soon as they wrapped around it and squeezed in just the right way so you felt euphoric, so it felt like the beginning to a night to remember. 

“Atan, you have no idea what you started. But I’ll show you. Let daddy show you.”

His sultry words made your legs clench together, a desperate if futile attempt to cease the dew gathering in your beaded loincloth and seeping past the fabric onto the soft skin of your inner thighs. 

“Turn around.” 

It never took any effort on your part to wholly and relentlessly obey your mate. He loved control and for him, only him, you loved to give it up - you loved it when he manhandled you, his strong, muscular physique perfect for such a task, made to do exactly what he was doing now, spinning you in place and pushing you gently, but forcefully by your shoulder and lower back until you were on the ground, kneeling and waiting. 

“I’m gonna need this perfect little body on all fours, Atan.”

The ground felt moist and tender beneath your hands and knees, and you were so aware of every move, every breath, every fleeting touch of his nimble fingers on your body, slowly making his way from your neck, down your spine until he reached your hips, that he gripped with both his large hands, before giving a praising, appreciative murmur at the sight before him. 

“So, so beautiful. Look at you, spread open for me, making a mess before I even touched you. Daddy’s little slut.”

You nearly snickered at how quickly he adopted and adapted to the nickname, how natural it was, rolling off his tongue, how somehow, every time he said it, you got impossibly wetter, almost panting with the desire to be filled up with his cock, with his cum. You moaned softly when you heard him spit into his hands, and could only imagine the mouthwatering sight unfolding before you as he pumped himself, before plunging into the depths of the desire that would overcome you both. When he guided his rock-hard erection to the plush of your ass, gliding it effortlessly in between your asscheeks, over and over, all you wanted to do was scream for more. It felt wondrous and dirty, and you wanted it all, wanted him everywhere, all at once, all the time. Like the mindreader he always was, he spoke before you had a chance to voice your unrealistic feverous dreams.

“Let’s start with two fingers and work our way up, how’s that sound?” You appreciated him for his thoughtfulness always, but especially now, always ready and dutiful in making sure you were prepared, that your body was capable of taking him, of taking it the way he ended up wanting to give it to you.

“Words, Atan.” 

“Sounds go-good. So good.” 

“That’s right.” 

He was taunting you now, slapping the tip of his cock on your clit, dragging it against your folds before sliding into you with ease, while plunging two fingers into your puckered hole.

“Fu-uck! Fuck! Argh!”

The feeling was beyond comprehension,  beyond your wildest fantasies. It was always this good, always this mind-blowing and yet, you have never gotten used to it, never gotten used to the amalgamation of sensations and how they’d all accumulate to a night of orgasm after orgasm, until you were passed out on his cock, too tired to even mutter a tired I love you.

His hand was soft as it trailed up your body until it reached your braided hair, that he took into his fisted hand. When he tugged on it, as he slammed back into you, you cried out, moaning garbled attempts at his name. Your head pulled backwards as he used your hair to establish a brutal, ruthless pace of both his hips and fingers, and soon enough, you could feel your first orgasm as it approached, thunderous and violent and ready to take over you. 

“I can’t wait to be a dad again, I can’t wait to see your swollen belly and know you have made me the happiest man in the world every day of my life so far and will continue to do so 'til the day I die. I can’t wait to hold your hand when you bring our baby girl into the world.”

“But not tonight, Atan. Tonight, I want to ruin you. I need to ruin you. I need to watch my cum drip out of your every perfect little hole. Do you understand?” 

A meek nod is all you managed, the sensation too overwhelming to allow for any coherent, cohesive expression, the cried-out iteration of “yes, daddy. Yes, fuck, y-yes!” only audible in your head as you screamed it with all your internalised might. 

“Good girl. Come for daddy. I want to hear you, Atan.”

His words were enough to push you over the edge, and you came, vision blinded by the high, mind numbed by the way every nerve in your body felt electrified, alight with the pleasure that didn’t seem to want to cease, not even as you squirted on his cock as he continued to pump into you, the overstimulation enough to make tears fall down your cheeks and onto the ground. 

You didn’t have time to catch your breath, no time to gather any thoughts before he leaned onto your back, whispering seductively in your ear. 

“Ready for round two? You didn’t think I was done with you yet, huh?” 

taglist: @pandoraslxna @sulieykte @blue-slxt @eywaeveng @neteyamsikran @elenamoncada-ibarra @spicymayyo @itsjazzsworld @daddysmurfslefttoenail @eyrina-avatar @iameatingmyhair @hadesbabygurl @linydoll @the-mourning-moon

(pls complete the form in the beginning of this post to be tagged)

[aonungyoufuck]

Runaway {Part 11}

Runaway masterlist

DNI/BYF

Synopsis: you have finally mated before eywa.

Warnings: Mention of Mating +18? but like no smut at all just making out and feeling each other +  Pregnancy 

“I cannot wait anymore my love” 

Ao’nung was kissing you. Kissing was not uncommon sure. But feeling him so close was. It was nice to feel him so close. His hands roaming you feeling you from the bottom to the top. And it was ever so addicting. 

The burning that came from his hands. The erratic feeling it was desperate. 

It was all you could ask for. 

“Ao’nung. Please wait.” You spoke between your teeth, feeling his lips linger far too long. 

“We waited enough haven’t we?” 

“Understand that once we do this ill be with you forever” 

“That is what I want” he whispered, nipping at your neck. 

“I am serious Ao’nung. I want to know that this is really what you want from me. I been wanting you for so long and this is what i crave i want to be with you as one. But if we ever go home-”

“No” Ao’nung kissed you. Biting your lips to hush your sentence “i Dont ever want go home for i have you here with me. I have everything i ever wanted with you. And ive been far to happy and liberated by your ever waking moment. And i want to be with you now. Feel what you feel” 

You took in a sharp breath feeling him rest his head on your chest. Looking at you with an intent you hadn’t seen since the day he spoke those sweet nothings. 

“I want to be wild with you. Be your every waking thought as you are mine. Feel your sorrows, your pain and your love. I want to have a family with you. Grow old with you.”

Kissing your chest he grabbed his Queue. Its nerves dancing with an excited joy that you knew too well too. 

“ I want to have you here and in our many lifetimes to come. Eywa may bless me to be born alongside you again. I want to have our kids find those they love and experience it as we have now. I want to have you all. If you so much as graced me to be known as yours”

Your breathe was taken. The glow of the tree illuminating you too. You kissed his forehead. Then his left cheek and the right. Before settling on his lips, consuming his breath. 

You grabbed your own queue. Looking at him before finally bringing them together. The sensation was warm. Too warn. The feeling of his arms now burning hot. He was gulping down his breath as he felt what he was doing to you. 

You were crazy adults in love. So desperate to finally have a name to it. Mate’s forever and always. 

“Sa’nok!” Neytiri went ahead to see her mother. As if she was just an illusion. From the looks of it. She had a tiresome flight. 

He didn't wait grabbing your waist and placing you on his lap. It would be a few hours before morning and you two would have to go back to your makeshift home. So for now he’ll enjoy what he can. 

“Mo’at!” Jake exclaimed looking at her. After the formalities. And letting Mo’at drink something after flying for so long. She began to talk

“ I see Your eldest isnt here” 

“So she isnt with you?” 

“No. We have moved once you two left. Be rest assured that our People are safe and well. Ninat has actually Given birth this past cycle” 

The Family was puzzled. Sure they hadn’t been able to find their old clan but they had tricked themselves into thinking that by any possibility that you two were with them. Safe and sound

“I came here to see Y/n and Kiri”

“Wait for what?” 

Mo’at grew quiet. There was clearly some distress in her face. 

“In the morning early. I had taken the New Tsahik for a communication with Eywa. However it seems that something was amiss. I do not know what it was. But it seems like one of my Granddaughters, Has come to that place for a mate. I came here to see if that was true” 

Jake's ears lowered. As is the mood of the pod as well. Mate? 

“Kiri?”

Kiri could only roll her eyes. “No its not I” It was no secret how close she got to a certain Mekayina boy. Though she often brushed it off as nothing more than friendly banter. 

“Ma Jake” Netriti spoke. Sharing knowing looks. There was only one person and they weren’t here. 

“Mo’at… Y/n.. She’s been gone for 3 years now marking yesterday”

Mo’at rose a brow. Crossing her arms as she looked at everyone in the pod. “For What reason”

Ronal had never felt fear. She was fearless, Like to show how powerful she was. How much she did not fear people at all. But right now she was so terrified of the older woman in front of her. “ I forbade her from establishing a relationship with my son”

Mo’at wasn’t angry. Not that she would show it. And that's what made her terribly frightening to  Neytiri who lowered her head in shame. 

“And where is your son?” 

Ronal’s ears flattened. Her arms were shaking. Trembling with a fear any mother would know. “I do not know” She wept. She didn’t know. How she wished she knew where on pandora her son was. Far too long she’s wondered. Far to long has she constantly woken from nightmares where he was just out of reach. “I do not know” 

Mo’at took her hand and rested it on her shoulder. Grounding her back to reality. 

“Tell me Jakesully. Do you know if Her son went with her?”

“I don-”

“He did! I know Grandmother” 

Everyone turned to look at Neteyam. No longer the little warrior boy that was always sitting by quietly. He needed to confirm it 

“He is fated for death. For Eywa told me so” 

“What?”

Mo’at rose her hand. Her face unchanging from her stern look. “All of them. The spirits and the past. All grew quiet with dread. And its only intuition to interpret her words. But it seems her mate. Your Son. Is fading from the strong man he is”

“You don't know what you speak of! My son is strong” 

“Your son isn't here” 

“Mo’at are you sure?” 

Mo’at could only sigh. She had experienced the hurt and the pain that was to lose your beloved. She had mourned so briefly. But the pain is one that she would never wish on anyone. Let alone her own grandchild.  

“I am not certain, however i am certain something is wrong.”

“How long will you be staying here?” Jake asked

Mo’at looked at him. Then pondered for a bit “A week. It is all i can stay before going back” 

“Okay okay. Neteyam. Lo’ak. You two and i will  search where we can. If they came to that tree surely they wouldn’t be far from there.  You two come back as soon as you can i’ll stay and look some more”

Ronal rose from her seat. “I’ll go and look in the clan on the eastern sea. Maybe their Tsahik or Olo’eyktan has seen them”

“I’ll come along too” Tonowari commented, turning back to his daughter. “Daughter. You stay here While we are out” 

“I’ll stay with her.” Neytiri commented standing behind her mother. 

Jake nodded. “Alright. Good plan” 

That was the Plan. Mo’at could only hope that you would not experience the pain of loss. 

—---------------------------

The week went by in a flash. No sign of you anywhere. And your family was growing desperate. 

Life was going on and that's the way Ronal had to have it. Days passed. Weeks maybe? Ronal had lost track after the first year. Ateyo and Tsireya were her grounding points. And even they seemed to move on with the passing of time. 

“How long has it been”

“A month since Mo’at left. A month and three years since they did”

“Tonowari i dont think i can do this” Ronal spoke. It was dark. It was night. And for once she had time to speak her hearts sorrows.

“Be strong Ma Ronal” 

“I know. But i feel my heart breaking. Hear it every time i wake it falling and shattering. I want my son. I want him back at whatever costs” Ronal croaked. 

Something so deep in the core of her being was screaming. 

There was no comfort for this kind of thing. For its sad. And this thing does not happen. 

“Ma ronal i-”

“Tonowari i dont think i can wait anymore. My heart cries any time i ask for any glance of my son. Aches”

“I know ma Ronal. But be patient. I will be here with you” Tonowari spoke kissing her forehead as he hugged her tight. Too much time was passing

It had been Pure bliss really. The loving touches. The words and the feeling. That morning when you had awoken from Mating before Eywa would always be engraved in your feelings. 

And he could only ask for his son’s life. 

Tsaheylu was always a warm feeling. A feeling of becoming one unit and it was really nice. But Tsaheylu in the form of a mate? It was different. A good different. 

You had always imagined it would be different and under different circumstances. You would have a man of your clan and they in turn. And everyone would be happy for you. 

But this wasn't what you pictured. Ao’nungs hands. How he felt you. How his body worked alongside you. And connecting as one more than tsaheylu. It was something else for sure. 

You had felt it once more on one “date night” as Ao’nung had put it. But there was no room for that now. 

Ao’nung had been growing weak. And You had been growing tired. It was only a week and some days into your new bond that you had your suspicions and gathered the few leaves you had established that you were blessed with life inside of you. 

You were going to tell Ao’nung. But he had been laying in his pond far too long. And yet he had made it so known how happy he was for you two. 

“Ma Ao’ you seem paler today than the last days” 

“Its alright” He rasped out. His eyes were heavy with a tiredness you never knew. Exhausted, sunken into himself. You could count his lower ribs. His pale appearance now always wrapped in ointments to keep him comfortable

“I ask you to please lets head home.You are growing so ill now please”

“No. And risk my Mother taking you away from me?” 

You frowned. Placing your hand on his sunken cheek bone. “Please You are ill”

“You are the thing that keeps me going Ma Yawnetu” Ao’nung smiled,  Eyes closing. 

You had watched him fade and it scared you how you were alone. You laid your head on his shoulder. Feeling his breath slow. You sighed, feeling tears in your eyes. “Ao’nung i have something to tell you”

It was quiet. Far too quiet and far too long. 

“Ao’nung?” 

His eyes were shut and his breathing uneven. 

“Ao’nung!”

But it fell on deaf ears. You cursed under your breath. Wiping your eyes as you called to your Ikran. Grabbing his shoulders you Pulled him from the water. You didn’t want to do stuff without Ao’nung to know. But you had bit back your tongue far too long. 

Tossing Ao’nung over your shoulder and onto Mezu “Come on Ao’nung hold on a little longer” You whispered making Tsaheylu as you took flight. 

Praying and hoping that you could hold on just a little longer too

============================================

Taglist: @simp-erformarvelwomen / @luvlykrispy / @yeosxxx / @fanboyluvr / @littlethingsinlife / @eirianna / @elegantkidfansoul / @tsukibaby1 / @adaiasafira / @1-800-not-simping / @reggiesslut / @cmfouatslota77 / @slutforsmut4ever / @zatarias-pandora / @valovesyou / @tachiara / @ghost-lantern / @victorianhorrors / @irlydontknoanymore / @hellok1ttycake / @sweetheartlizzie07 / @audigay / @kiyolover / @bogwaterswamp / @guska0 / @thatoneembarrasingmoment / @anxietydrogz

[nonsenseafterdark]

Home Again

Summary: Johnny goes home, finally able to let his guard down

Characters: Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, The MacTavish Fam

Word Count: 804

Warnings: None.

Although he had to maintain some level of focus to drive, Johnny also felt as if he was finally able to let his guard down somewhat, something he felt like he could never do from the moment he stepped into his military career. Being a soldier had its benefits and its shadows, and while he had no regrets and argued that being a soldier helped him improve as a person, he’d be lying if he said that he sometimes misses and grieves the man he used to be.

Johnny wished he never jumped in alert at loud sounds such as thunder or backfiring engines. He wished he would be able to unwind knowing that he was relatively safe and didn’t need to be gripping his guns anytime soon. He wished to enjoy a day off, to take in every second without worrying what would happen in the next. Johnny wanted safety, and being a soldier made him painfully aware of everything. He learned the world was never “safe” to begin with, and sometimes he missed that ignorance before he enlisted. Yet being back in his hometown provided him with that safe embrace, the atmosphere providing something warm and enveloping as if to tell him that he would be alright here. 

When Johnny called his family, he informed them that he’d be coming in late and encouraged them not to wait up for him. But as he parked his car and eyed the faint silhouette of his home, he saw that the kitchen lights were on along with some coming from the upstairs bedrooms. He’d scold his mother and siblings later, but for now, he stepped out, pulled his bags and belongings out, and made his way up to the front door. It wasn’t long until it swung open, revealing his mother in her pajamas and a soft bathrobe. 

“Johnny!” She was tired, and yet she had enough energy to race a few steps outside to hug her son. Johnny dropped his bags just in time for her to wrap her arms around him. It was a tight, gentle hug, one that felt protective, yet soft enough to melt into. He wrapped his arms around her, returning the hug and almost not wanting to let go. But for now, he held on as long as he could.

“You alright, babes?” She asked, not letting go, but sensing he was tense. 

“Aye…” Johnny replied, “Just missed you…”

“Oh, we did too, John… It’s so good to see you…”

Catching onto her mild exhaustion and remembering what time it was, Johnny broke away momentarily, “Why aren’t you in bed? I told you not to wait up.”

“I know, but I couldn’t sleep until I knew you were here,” His mother shook her head, “You hungry? The kettle’s still warm if you want something hot to drink.”

“I’m alright, ma. I don’t want you staying up any later for me.”

“Oh hush! Let me at least get you some tea.”

“Is that you, Johnny?” A voice from the home exclaimed, revealing it to be his older sister, Ava, and following close behind her was their youngest brother, Jack. Their mother stepped away, allowing for John’s siblings to rush him and bring him in their own unique embrace. Jack had almost jumped onto him like he would when they were kids, causing Johnny to stumble back. But he held his brother too, almost as if he was coming back from a week long camp trip.

“My big brother!” Jack affirmed gleefully, patting Johnny on the back and noting his somewhat bony frame, “Have they been feeding you, man?”

“Aye, they are,” Johnny laughed, “It isn’t anything like ma's soups and roasts, though.”

“You can get plenty of that when Jackie decides to let go of you,” Ava joked, “Am I allowed to hug my brother too?”

“C’mon, Jack,” Their mother chided, “Let Ava say ‘hi’, and help me with the bags.”

“Right, right…” Jack stepped back, finally allowing Johnny’s vital organs to breathe. Once he was finally able to catch his breath, he welcomed Ava for the next hug. Her hug wasn’t as desperate as their mother’s or playful like Jack’s. It was a protective embrace from the same sister who would yell at the farmer for allowing his poorly trained dog to chase Johnny up into a tree. It was from the same sister who comforted him and Jack, and held both of them close when their father passed. 

“How’re you doing, little brother?” She asked.

Now it was the same sister whose hug made Johnny drop his guard all together. The same family who let him know that for this month, he wasn’t Sergeant MacTavish. He was their Johnny, their son and brother, and as long as he was here, he was safe. 

“It’s good to be home…” Johnny finally answered.

[whispering-about-the-tmnt]

Can I get a quick summary of your thoughts/opinions on the 4 shows and the different movies? :3

Personally I'm a big fan of 2012 and Rise, and 2003 is good too but just never landed as much with me but I think I gotta give it another shot tbh. And I respect to 80's show, but not a big fan of cartoons durring that time as a whole.

And I love the 1990 movie, and the 2007 movie has amazing parts but as a whole is just pretty decent, and I absolutely love Mutant Mayhem :3

But it's always great stumbling across another tmnt fan while just scrolling my dash

Ah! Thank you for the ask!

I'll do them in chronological order, and I'm sorry but this is going to be long!

1987 - My first intro to the Turtles, way back when the show first aired! I totally fell into the world of Ninja Turtles back then, and wanted to consume everything having to do with them. I had posters all over my walls, toys, clothing, hats... you name it, I either had it or wanted desperately to get it. I was so into them that my dad bought me the first four (colorized) graphic novels of the original comics, and I still have them to this day. And I still love the cartoon! I accept now that they are kinda silly, but that gives them a certain charm. They were a huge part of my childhood, and when they came out on DVD I introduced my kids to them, as well. Honestly, I am who I am today because I happened to come across the show on a tiny little portable black and white TV while we were camping...

1990 - The first "event movie" I ever experienced! I remember how hyped I got when the first ads came out for it, with the tag line "Hey Dudes, This Is No Cartoon"... and how I told my dad that I wanted to move back to North Carolina (we were living in Massachusetts at the time) because I heard that they were filming it there (we didn't move, of course!). I also distinctly remember how excited I was waiting in line with crowds of people at Showcase Cinemas in Springfield, MA. I saw the movie twice in theaters (the first time I ever did that), and many, many times on tape. When I had kids, we all watched it together on DVD (usually while eating pizza). I love the gritty look and story line; and it was actually interesting to see, for the first time, the "rivalry" between Raph and Leo, which would later become a huge part of the franchise as a whole. In general, the movie represents the Turtles pretty well, though Mike and Don did kind of get pushed to the side (which has also, unfortunately, become a major aspect of the franchise). All-in-all, though, it remains one of my favorite movies ever.

1991 - The second TMNT movie (The Secret Of The Ooze) wasn't bad, in my opinion, but it never had as large a part in my life or psyche as the first movie. It was a bit silly, a bit slow... but it had Ernie Reyes Jr. in it, and I had a HUGE crush on him. In general, it was good, and I liked their new lair in the subway, but it was... just okay. I did love Tokka and Rahzar, though!

1993 - It may seem strange, but even with the costume downgrade and slapstick reliance and a bit of a silly story line, I enjoyed the third movie more than the second! For one thing, Casey was back (and I loved his apparent ancestor, Whit). For another, it was nice to see the Turtles out of their element, but also being accepted by people. There were some nice heroic moments in there, too, like Mikey and Leo saving Yoshi. It also made me wonder if the Turtles would, at some point in the future, go back even further and defeat Norinaga's ancestor, leading to the painting that was shown repeatedly in the movie. Oh, and I totally headcanon Mitsu and Kenshin being Hamato Yoshi's ancestors.

2003 - My favorite of the TV shows! I love how they can be gritty and serious or silly and playful. Their lair is amazing, and they have plenty of friends, but still are separated from humanity. I like the relationships the Turtles have between each other, and also how each of their personalities are distinct and add to the group. There are plenty of standalone episodes, but they all come back around and tie into the series as a whole -- and character arcs like Leonardo's 4th season self-loathing and recovery are the kind of thing I eat right up. All things considered, the series is my gold standard for the franchise, and especially for the Turtles' and Splinter's personalities.

2007 - Visually, it was great! I loved the voice acting and the atmosphere. However, they leaned a bit too hard into the aforementioned Leo & Raph rivalry (although the rooftop fight scene was amazing). I would have liked for Don and Mike to have a larger part in the story (although Don did do his techie thing and figure out what was going on, it was sort of a non-event). I did like the eleventh-hour Karai and Foot team-up with the good guys, though! Unfortunately, I am compelled to mention that Splinter in that movie is... not my favorite.

2012 - Completely honestly, I am an outsider to this series, and all that I know of it I have absorbed through Tumblr Osmosis. That meaning, although I do know a lot about it, I have never actually watched a full episode. It is my 12-year-old daughter's favorite version, however, so on her behalf I will be giving it a thumbs-up 👍🏼

2014 / 2016 - Bundling the two Bayverse movies into one, because I will be honest and say that the line between them blurs for me sometimes (not in a bad way, just like... they flow into one another in my mind). I will admit that I put off watching them for a long time because I disagreed with some of the creative decisions (I'll just leave that there), but when I watched them they turned out to be not as bad as I feared. Their lairs were fitting, and so were their personalities (even if Leo is occasionally a bit my way or the highway). Really, though, I don't have too much to say about them, except that some of the slapstick and more cartoony action tends to draw me out of the moment. Not my favorite TMNT movies, but not horrible. There's potential there.

2018 - ROTTMNT is another series that I haven't actually watched, and which I have gathered most of my knowledge on from Tumblr. However, I did watch the movie and enjoyed it very much! Honestly, the only reason I haven't watched the series yet is because I already have enough TMNT versions bouncing around in my head and I know if I watch it I will want to write fics for it, and I already have enough on my plate for the time being (meaning I will probably get a bunch of my WIPs done, then watch the series!). That having been established, I do like the way the Turtles are different species, and the overall exuberance of the series as a whole is a delight (again, from an outside perspective, but valid regardless!). Splinter's backstory is unique and interesting, and his relationship with his sons is enjoyable!

2019 - Batman Vs. TMNT is, without a doubt, one of my favorite TMNT movies ever! I loved the style, the atmosphere, the fight choreography, the relationships... everything. I also like how it earned that PG-13 rating (violence, swearing... you know... original Mirage Turtle stuff). It was nice how each Turtle got to shine, and how they each got a member of the Batfam to cling to. And Leo's fight with Ra's al Ghul is perhaps my favorite TMNT battle ever. I know it is probably too much to hope for a sequel, but I am nothing if not a cockeyed optimist!

2023 - Mutant Mayhem was fun! It was nice seeing the Turtles portrayed as actual teenagers, complete with gratuitous pop culture references. The animation style was interesting (in a good way!) and the voice acting was spot-on. I loved the soundtrack, too, and I had "What's Going On" stuck in my head for days after I watched the movie! The fact that the Turtles got accepted by humans at the end was nice, even if my preferred version of them is as outcasts; and their relationship with Splinter was believably complicated. I am excited to see how the story continues in TOTTMNT!

Is that all of them? I think that is all of them! Sorry this was so long, but I have a lot of feelings on the subject!

[mostmagical]

Green & Red & Black

my mind has been inundated with misternette thanks to @spicysummer22's art (go LOOK) so I promised I'd write a fic

fits in canon somewhere between Passion and Elation

Ao3

Lady Noire touched down to the street, the miraculous on her finger ringing only more desperate by the second. Hurriedly, she flung herself into the alleyway with only a single cursory glance to ensure she was alone.

“Claws in,” she huffed, her transformation melting over her shortly after.

Plagg groaned despondently as she caught him in her hands. The swap had been last minute and unexpected, being that their fight with Safari had only been a few days prior. She would have thought Monarch would have come up with a better half-baked plan after that defeat, knowing she and her kitty would always figure out a way to beat him.

“Sorry, Plagg,” Marinette sighed. “I only have a strawberry macaron. Is that okay?”

He opened one green crescent eye to look at her, remaining spread eagle in her palm. “I guess it’ll do,” he agreed.

Marinette smiled and fished the snack out of her purse.

“Eat up.”

She couldn’t believe her luck. Her cataclysm had missed early on, and the battle continued. The bad timing had forced her to duck away before Chat– er, Mister Bug could even call for his lucky charm. Hopefully, he was managing out there okay on his own.

She would never forgive herself if anything happened to his pretty face while she was gone.

Plagg was taking his sweet time biting into the macaron, all the while dribbling crumbs all over her hand. It was as though the little cat kwami had no sense of urgency anywhere in his tiny body. Marinette tapped her foot impatiently.

“Can you hurry?” she worriedly asked, peeking out of the alleyway and into the open street. It was too quiet.

“I’m going as fast as I can, Pigtails,” Plagg replied with a roll of his eyes. “I swear, you kids have no idea how to savor your food.”

“Time and place, Plagg.”

“Yeah, yeah…”

Marinette cast another distracted glance out into the street. “I’m just worried about him,” she said, chewing on her lip.

“I get it,” Plagg replied around a mouthful of macaron. He made a loud gulping sound as he swallowed. “But he’s smart, you know. He can take care of himself just like you can take care of yourself.”

“Sure, sure…” She waved at him with her free hand, no longer fully listening as the air became stiller.

“Actually,” Plagg continued, chewing thoughtfully, “why are you worried about him? Since when do you–” His eyes went wide, and his chewing halted. He groaned. “Tikki wasn’t joking. It’s you, too.”

Marinette wrenched her eyes away from the street, narrowing them instead at the little cat kwami in her hands. “Me too, what?” Her face wrinkled in confusion.

Plagg opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get anything out, a wave of ladybugs passed over them.

Oh. He did it…

Marinette felt a swell of pride fill her chest for her partner. He was getting better and better at wearing her earrings. Maybe they should plan to swap every once in a while. And not just because she wanted to see him in her colors more often.

(Okay, maybe it was a little of that.)

“See?” Plagg smiled, his tiny arms placed on his hips in pride. “I told you he was fine.”

Marinette giggled at his display. She reached out her pointer finger to give him a scratch between the ears, earning herself a quiet purr. “Yes, you did,” she said. “We better get back out there to swap miraculouses again. Claws–”

“M’Lady!”

A tumble of red and black crashed into her, throwing her body hurtling towards the ground with a grunt. Marinette braced for impact, but there was none. Instead she found herself suspended in the air by two strong hands clasped around both her wrists. Slowly, she opened her screwed-shut eyes to green. 

Mister Bug stared down at her, his mouth dropped open in a gasp. 

“Ma-Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” he stuttered. (Since when does Chat Noir stutter…?)

Marinette tried to speak, but nothing came out. She could only vigorously nod her assent. Yes, that was her name, but she would have answered to anything he called her, surely. 

At her silence, Mister Bug took notice of her position, still hanging in the air by her arms. With a worried breath of air, he pulled her up, one of his hands landing on her waist and sending fire up her spine.

“I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” he fussed. His green eyes roved over her body as if checking for any scratches, despite the fact that he had saved her from feeling even a brush of the pavement.

Marinette blinked up at him, still disoriented from her near-fall and the cosmic pull of his eyes. “Don’t worry about me. I only just fell for you,” she said.

What. 

Mister Bug’s eyes widened, blinking owlishly at her as red pooled his cheeks. 

Oh, she loved how much that mask allowed her to see more of his handsome face…

Stop that!

“I mean—! Um!” Marinette scrambled to halt the unintelligible mess threatening to pour out of her mouth, but all she succeeded in doing was tying her own tongue into knots. “Don’t worry about me! You saved me! From falling!” She laughed awkwardly, punching the air with a curled fist. 

He smiled, and it was so soft and endearing that she nearly whimpered at the sight. “Yeah, I saved you. Right after I crashed into you.”

“Yeah…” she sighed dreamily. “You can crash into me any day…” She followed that one with an airy giggle.

Mister Bug’s smile curved into something more mischievous—that same flirty smile he’d toss Ladybug’s way anytime he made a pass. “Oh? And would you… provide me a safe place to land?”

Marinette’s heart stuttered in her chest, her stomach bubbling with anticipation. “Of course I would,” she replied, breathy. “Anytime.”

He stepped just a bit closer and she was so, so aware of the hand still placed on her waist, burning her skin through her clothes. She couldn’t decide if she wanted him to move it away for her sanity, or keep it there forever and let her melt away into the embers.

“What are you doing all the way out here anyway?” her bug asked, a wrinkle in his mask between his eyes to match his frown.

She wished she could smooth that wrinkle out, but instead she settled for a gulp to try to clear her dry throat. “I, uh, akuma displacement,” she answered, the usual excuse rolling off her tongue. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“I was looking for Lady Noire, actually,” he explained. “You didn’t happen to see her pass by, did you?”

“Yes– I mean, no— Wait–” Marinette cut herself off. Her brain was already too scrambled to come up with more excuses. “I mean, yes. She, uh, passed by here. Said she needed to run home for something.”

Mister Bug tilted his head, and, god, he was so cute. She had to force herself not to whimper again.

“She said she’d meet you at the usual spot later,” she added, hoping her voice didn’t sound as shaky as she felt. For good measure, she flashed him a thumbs up.

He seemed to accept her answer. “Oh, okay.”

Marinette sighed in relief.

His smile returned. “In that case, it looks like I have some free time,” he said. “Why don’t you let this charming bug fly you home, huh?”

“I’d love to go home with you,” she responded without much thought. “I mean– I’d love for you to take me home– I, wait, uh. My house. Yes. Please.” Her whole body cringed. “Thank you.”

To her relief, Mister Bug appeared completely unbothered by her constant tumbling over words, instead just grinning wider at her. The hand on her waist moved to wrap fully around her body. Marinette only had a second to snake her arms around his neck before he had tossed his yoyo above their heads to hook on a chimney.

“Ready?” he asked, turning to look at her. Every detail in his summer green eyes glittered at her through his red and black-spotted mask, and she felt like she might melt. Oh, she loved those eyes. She loved him in that mask.

Face hot, all Marinette could do was nod at him, and then they were zipping through the air. It was impossible to tell if the swooping feeling deep in her stomach was from the flight or her proximity to the pilot. Either way, she loved the familiar safety of his arm around her back and the solid strength of his shoulders beneath her fingers.

Before she knew it—in fact, it felt like no time at all, really—they had reached her balcony, and he gently set her down on her feet.

“Well, ma cher, we’ve arrived.”

Marinette blinked up at Mister Bug, not quite ready to part from him. Nervously, she played with her still connected fingers behind his neck.

“You should stay,” she told him. “We can sit up here and chat, or you can come in. I’ll bring some chouquettes up from the bakery. It would be nice to talk to you.”

Wait… Was that too familiar? She had to remind herself that she was Marinette; she wasn’t his partner right now. Marinette couldn’t even remember if she was supposed to know that Chat Noir was Mister Bug, so what was she doing right now?

Luckily, he was seemingly totally nonplussed by her suggestion. Instead, he smiled warmly down at her, a rosy tint to his cheeks that she was sure must have mirrored her own. He opened his mouth, looking incredibly agreeable. To her displeasure, however, his earrings chose exactly that moment to protest, beeping angrily in a way that she could just imagine was Tikki’s voice chiding her.

His smile turned regretful. “I’m sorry, Marinette,” he said. “I’d love to, but I have to go.” Gloved hands gently grasped her wrists, pulling them away from his shoulders.

She mourned the loss.

Marinette’s lip stuck out in a pout. “Do you really have to go?”

“Yes, I really have to go,” he replied sadly. Then, brighter, “But if we’re going to make a date of it, at least give me time to buy you flowers first.”

Her heart skipped a beat, butterflies beating furiously inside her chest.

“Oh,” was all she could say.

Mister Bug’s grin returned at her quiet utterance. Somehow, without her noticing, one of his hands had traveled from her wrist to wind affectionately around her fingers, and he squeezed.

He bowed deeply, her hand still in his, the perfect image of a chevalier encased in red and black.

“Until next time, mademoiselle,” he purred. His lips burned like the sun as they pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. “And when I see you again, I’ll be sure to remember your rose.”

Marinette remained silent and red as he straightened to his full height. Her mouth stubbornly refused to move, even as he waved at her in farewell and leapt from her balcony. She pressed her burning hand to her chest, dreamily watching her red bug become nothing more than a dot on the city skyline.

A whine sounded from her purse, and— Oops. She hadn’t even thought to worry about Plagg once that entire encounter.

“That was disgusting,” Plagg groaned, floating up into the air next to her. “I’m going to have to hear about that all night!”

Marinette sighed happily, sinking backwards into her lounge chair before her legs gave out on her. Plagg continued his grumpy buzzing around her head, but she remained lost in her thoughts and memories of bright green eyes in red masks.

She had no idea how she was going to face him later to return his miraculous to him.

Maybe they could stay swapped just a little while longer.

And if Lady Noire brought a bag full of chouquettes to their usual spot later to make up for the lost opportunity, well, that was her business.