#needed to be “improved”. fuck you fuck you fuck you FUCK YOU

[maxiemumdamage]

To me Azula is a tragic character specifically because while she was failed by everyone around her, it also would’ve been unreasonable to expect any of them to save her. Among those who wanted to help her, practically no one had the understanding or power to change her. They couldn’t get Azula to stop being cruel, in large part because they couldn’t change the circumstances that nurtured her worst traits.

Except Ozai obviously. Fuck him. He’s why Azula is like that to begin with. But the power and sway he has over her also made it borderline impossible for anyone else to make her change.

(MUCH more to say about this here:)

People tend to blame Ursa for Azula’s behavior first and foremost. And…yes, Ursa was pretty clearly closer with Zuko than Azula. But of course she was! Ursa’s son was constantly abused and degraded by his father — as per the comics, Ozai outright told Ursa he would do this for all of Zuko’s life in order to hurt his wife. Zuko needed Ursa’s support to have any sense of self-esteem and frankly, for his own safety.

Zuko needed his mother just to be safe and not be alone, while Azula needed her mother for moral education. Even if you don’t think Ursa’s priorities were the right ones…choosing her daughter over her son might not have been enough to change Azula anyway. It would’ve been devastating for Zuko without necessarily improving Azula in any meaningful way, because Ursa didn’t actually have the authority to meaningfully oppose her husband.

By the time it would’ve been evident that Azula had a super skewed moral compass as a result of being around Ozai so much…she still would’ve been like, eight years old max, for one thing. Little kids say and do a lot of fucked up shit, because they don’t understand morals or the world by and by large. For another, once it was obvious she was parroting horrible stuff from her father, Azula also would’ve had no respect for her mother. So what could Ursa do, by the time she realized she needed to do something?

We see in flashbacks that Ursa tried, even when her child didn’t respect her and she couldn’t enforce meaningful consequences for the bad behavior Ozai rewarded. Ursa scolded Azula for saying cruel things. She made Zuko spend time with his sister, rewarding Azula for any moments of kindness or cooperation (even when Azula was just faking it to get an opportunity to bully Zuko and Mai). She tried.

As for Ursa leaving…uh, if she hadn’t, Zuko would have died. He absolutely, 100% would have died if his mother hadn’t cut a deal with Ozai to put him on the throne in exchange for disappearing. She made Azulon and his ultimatum go away because that was necessary to protect Zuko.

Ursa did fail to morally guide her daughter. But to do otherwise would’ve been to neglect her son, then to sign Zuko’s death warrant. I’m not gonna pretend she didn’t choose one kid over the other — I just also think choosing to support the kid whom she knew her husband was mistreating wasn’t necessarily the wrong call.

And even if it was…choosing differently might not have done anything. Because Ursa could only offer affection, while Ozai wielded both the carrot and a stick. Azula would’ve likely still fawned to the more powerful abuser, still learned harmful behavior, and still internalized that her cruelty was not just necessary but acceptable. Rewarded, even.

There’s Iroh to mention as well. He admittedly had a lot more influence and ability to stand up to Ozai than Ursa did, but in fairness…that wasn’t his kid. He had his own son to worry about, and then he was grieving, and then…he chose Zuko too.

For the same reason as Ursa, I don’t quite blame him for it — Zuko needed help much more immediately. When Zuko was banished, Iroh did the right thing by going with. But I do think those in-between years in the palace were a time Iroh (still mourning, but still) had the chance to influence Azula a little. But…

…I’ve seen a post theorizing that Iroh dislikes his niece because she reminds him of who he used to be, and…I think that’s very likely. They’re the golden children of their fathers, the firebending prodigies, the conquerors of Ba Sing Se.

I also think it’s because he and Azula are so alike that he has no idea how to help her.

Iroh didn’t have a moral revelation about the Fire Nation’s conquest, not until it cost him his son’s life. His realization about war being wrong, subsequently becoming more worldly and gaining respect for other cultures, it happened only when the Fire Nation’s system stopped working for him personally. So he wouldn’t know how to make Azula see that system as wrong, to make her change for the better as he did. He can’t recreate his own reasons for changing.

Also, quite frankly — Iroh barely to not at all managed to turn Zuko off the Fire Nation’s propaganda. Zuko always had morals, sure, but he did not have any semblance of the idea that “war (of conquest) is wrong” or even “wow my father is abusive and terrible to me personally” after three years of travel with Iroh. Being an Earth Kingdom refugee and meeting the Gaang was when Zuko really changed. And I think Zuko (who got his face burned off at 13) would probably be a much easier egg to crack on the redemption front than Azula (for whom the cruel and abusive system has always worked, she’s fine with it as long as she’s the one on top).

I also am briefly going off topic here to say…I like the idea of Azula redemption. I agree that she is sometimes condemned too strongly, to harshly, given that she is just a teenage girl. But her youth doesn’t take away from her cruelty. She is someone who knowingly does wrong, because she sees it as a way to protect herself. A meaningful redemption arc for her has to acknowledge that, not just sweep it under the rug by claiming she always loved her victims.

Because yes, Azula’s loved ones who are of a similar age to her but have less power are in fact her victims. They love her, she loves them, but she does hurt them all the same. That also has to be acknowledged in the quest to redeem her.

Zuko and Mai and Ty Lee all flatly have no power over Azula — she has power over them, in fact, thanks to her status as Ozai’s favored child and just as a princess, respectively. Ursa and Iroh were adults who at least wouldn’t be hurt by trying to help Azula, but for her brother and friends? Changing her could be dangerous.

Zuko is nominally safer as the Crown Prince, but…he’s awful at politics and their infinitely more powerful Dad blatantly favors Azula. He can’t stand up to her. And the one time were shown that Ursa, trying to correct Azula’s cruelty, made her son play nice, feels cruel to Zuko. He gets hurt and humiliated for no reason but for his sister’s sake entertainment and (failed) moral education. It’s not his job to redeem his sister.

And then there’s Mai and Ty Lee, who may be nobles, but still can’t do anything to Princess Azula. In fact, even before Mai or Ty Lee have done anything, Azula is threatening their family and bodily safety, respectively, as a loyalty test. They cannot challenge Azula in any meaningful way without endangering their lives and safety. It’s not fair to expect them to fix her.

Who does that leave that Azula is even close to? The Gaang literally know nothing of her but “Zuko’s sister who keeps trying to kill us.” None of the Fire Nation Generals or Nobles will want her to change. Azulon rewarded her bad behavior almost as hard as Ozai. Lo and Li, maybe, but for all they’re the wise old ladies Azula takes advice from, Azula doesn’t actually interact with them very often.

Azula is a tragic character because, while she was a child who should have been redeemed and had better, it makes perfect sense she didn’t. No one could change her. No one could offer a sweeter carrot or bigger stick than Ozai. And by the time he was out of the picture, the story was over.

[teenidlegirl]

⠀⠀౨౿  ׅ ۟   ֪ 𝓑eauty 𝓞f 𝓣his 𝓜ess⠀♡⠀𝓒hapter 𝓔ighteen ۪ ׂ   𓈒 ୭

꒰⠀⠀⟡⠀.⠀military!miguel⠀𝓍⠀fem!neighbor!reader⠀.⠀⟡⠀⠀꒱

⠀ ᰦ 󠄀 ྀ .⠀♥︎⠀summary.⠀you and miguel finally have your big conversation. he finally gets the chance to explain himself, you learn a heartbreaking truth, and figure out where to go next.

⠀ ᰦ 󠄀 ྀ .⠀♥︎⠀content.⠀fluff, angst, pregnancy, background stories, past character death, past violence, flashbacks, mentions of blood, trauma, emotional distress, sorta hurt/comfort

❛⠀ previous chapter⠀⋅⠀masterlist⠀⋅⠀next chapter ⠀❜

the smell of pancakes awakes you, filling up your senses. slowly opening your eyes, your remember everything from yesterday. after the stupid fight between joel and miguel, you took miguel back home to patch him up and demanded that he should stay the night. he obeyed like a puppy, no matter how many times he rejected the offer. you also realize this is the first time miguel has been in your home in two months. the last time he was here, miguel walked out and disappeared for three weeks. now, he’s back and making breakfast in your kitchen.

you snap out of thought when a white fluff ball walks towards your face. the sight makes you smile as luna greets you with happy licks and a wagging tail. after saying good morning to your dog, you get up from bed and put on a cardigan over your nightgown to shield you from the chilly morning air. sipping on your fuzzy slippers and scooping luna in your arms, you head to the kitchen and find miguel cooking. his broad back faced to you. that navy blue compression shirt hugs his muscles so perfectly. the way his back muscles ripple as he maneuvers around the kitchen.

goddamn that is a sight you miss so much. to see him again, in the flesh, especially in your home. just a cute domestic scene of the man you still love. you really miss miguel so much it hurts.

but the pain that he inflicted on you hurts still. although you’re happy to see him and have him in here after a long time, that doesn’t erase the heartbreak miguel left behind when he left you alone to deal with a life-changing situation for three weeks. those were the shittiest three weeks of your life. three weeks of crying. three weeks of pain. miguel caused that, the very same man cooking breakfast in your kitchen at this moment. now that he’s here, you have to know where the fuck he was during those three weeks. it’s the question that never left your mind.

as he serves a plate meant for you, miguel turns around not expected to see you there standing at the opposite side of the kitchen island. “oh buenas dias, amor. i was gonna take this to you so you wouldn’t have to get out of bed.” he offers a sheepish grin.

there goes your heart fluttering because of his kindness, against your opposing thoughts. “the smell of pancakes woke me up, i had to get out of bed.”

your joke makes him chuckle lightly. “you still should get back in bed, i’ll bring this to you.”

“no, it’s okay. i need to wash my sheets anyways. now gimme those pancakes, pretty please.” you hop on one of the barstools with much glee.

miguel couldn’t resist the cute smile of yours, a sight that he misses so dearly.

you enjoy your pancakes while miguel cleans up the kitchen. damn, those pancakes are delicious. you forgot how much you miss his cooking. you remember how great of a cook he is but damn do you miss eating the food he made. resurfaced memories of the mornings and evenings miguel would cook, either at your place or his, when you were dating. chitchatting and sometimes goofing around while cooking delicious meals. his food always hit the spot, even simple as pancakes.

moving on to a much more serious topic, you wanted to know of his condition and if anything improved overnight. the memories of those awful bruises still makes your heart squeeze painfully.

“how are you feeling?”

“a bit better but some places still hurts like shit but i’ll be fine. that asshole didn’t do that much damage.” he rubs the back of his neck with a hand.

“still, he hurt you enough.”

miguel notices the concern laced in your tone, his heart swells. “i’ll be okay, mi amor. i promise.” he leans a bit over the island to find your eyes, reassuring you that he will be fine.

your concerned eyes meet his serious yet reassuring eyes. you know he will be fine but you can’t not be still concerned about his health. no matter the circumstances, your heart still beats and aches for him. you simply offer a small smile then continue focusing on your breakfast.

miguel lets you eat in peace as he cleans up the kitchen, washing and putting away dishes. once he finished, he can’t help but silently admire you. your disheveled hair, slightly droopy eyes, and sleepy face. every detail of you is so precious. the gorgeous warm hue of the morning sun makes your figure glow beautifully, as if an angel sits across from him.

you are an angel, his angel.

god he missed you so much. to wake up and see you there in the same place as him. to have you there in general, you gracing him with your angelic presence. miguel misses waking up to find you beside him in bed. the softness of you against his roughness. your warmth smoothing him as he awakens, the only source preventing his nightmares. sharing these cute small moments with you while cooking, eating, cleaning, shopping, walking, just anything.

the longer he admires you in silence, realization creeps up to him. you two agreed to reserve the big conversation today after a good long rest from yesterday’s shitshow. suddenly, anxiety invades his body. miguel is nervous as hell to address the elephant in the room, mainly due to your reaction and fear that his reasons won’t be justifiable. he imprinted a large scar on you that will forever be there, it will never heal, not for a long time.

but this will only be his chance to explain himself. miguel can’t lose that opportunity, not when it can lead to a possible future with you and the baby. however, this cute quiet moment between you two right now does not mean things are back to normal. it does not mean it will be like that after the conversation. it will be your decision whether to forgive him or accept his reasons and determine the outcome. it will be your final word.

you also are nervous as hell. a much needed conversation yet you are afraid to discuss it. mainly because of what will be the outcome and future of your relationship. you desperately need to know his reasons. despite the quiet moment right now, the anger and resentment still lingers, bubbling inside you. the pain he left you remains in your fragile heart. the same heart beating with intense anxiety.

it’s the calm before the storm.

you finish your breakfast, which was absolutely delicious, and about to get up from your seat to out away the now dirty plate until a calloused hand stops you by gently taking the plate from your hands.

“hey, i got it.” you pout.

his heart flutters at that pout. goddamnit you’re so adorable. “i got it, preciosa. you stay there.”

“but i just wanted to—”

“no buts, i’ll do everything.” he cuts you off softly with a smile that makes your heart leap once again.

you know this is his attempt of making things up to you. it’s a small start yet it doesn’t change anything or erase the pain. miguel knows it as well.

“we need uh… we need to talk about… y’know?”

a heavy sigh escapes his lips. “we do… uh… let’s head to the couch to be more comfortable, ¿si?”

you nod, hop off the bar stool, and head to the couch. you sit on one end and miguel on the other, some distance between you two. luna comes up to snuggle with you on your lap. anxiety invades both your bodies. now it’s time to discuss this situation, learn the truth, and find a solution, or not. but nevertheless, you were ready to know the truth.

miguel is the more nervous reck, practically sweating his ass off due the anxiety invading his veins like a virus. this is his one and only opportunity.

“i regret what i did… it was a mistake i’ll regret for the rest of my life because leaving you was the stupidest mistake of my life.” his sad eyes meet yours. “i promised to never hurt you pero… i did the one thing i swore to never do… and i hate myself for it.” he adverts his gaze, feeling undeserving often look at you because of the shame and guilt.

you can only offer a pitiful glance. ever since he returned, you have noticed the self-loathing consuming him whole. the guilty and shameful glint in his eyes every time they meet yours.

“i deserve all of your anger and frustration. i hurt you and saying sorry won’t fix anything, it won’t take away the pain i caused you.” a heavy sigh left his lips as he bring up a hand and rubs the temples of his forehead. “i-i was scared… i was afraid that i—”

your brows furrowed in a mixture of confusion and concern. what was miguel afraid of?

another heavy sigh. “when you said you were pregnant, i panicked… i just… i just couldn’t believe it. i couldn’t believe i would be a father, that i would have a baby… i never considered it before and… i was so… scared.” he lowers his hand but never looks back up to face you, instead down at his lap, too afraid to meet your eyes. “i was scared of becoming a father and having a baby because… i would fail you both…”

your frown deepens. “fail us? miguel, what do you mean?” how could he fail you and the baby? it doesn’t make sense. now you’re more concerned.

he had to reveal the truth.

“gabriel… you know that him and i joined together?”

miguel didn’t need to look at you to see you nod, just from his peripheral. he feels his heart aching, proving how hard it was to talk about his brother because the pain and guilt are still strong. you can see him struggling. the way he’s hunched over as if he’s in pain. eyes screwed shut, brows furrowed deeply, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, knees bouncing. you just want to scoot over and hug him. you almost do but he then continues.

“one mission… it was more intense than others.” he starts off quietly. “it all went wrong unfortunately, we were outnumbered, things went downhill so fast and…” a sob that was threatening to escape was bitten back down his throat as flashbacks of that mission infiltrates his mind. the closer he was to the memory, the harder it was hold back the tears.

flashback of the bullet striking through gabriel’s shoulder, hitting an artery. miguel’s heart stops as his brother collapses onto the ground while the rest of the team fight off the enemy. panic invades his veins as he rushed to his wounded brother, collecting him in his arms and seeking shelter behind a wall, ignoring the pleads of his squad.

“s-shit…” gabriel groans in pain. “definitely hit the spot.” a weak chuckle escapes his lips.

“you’re okay… you’re okay. you’re gonna be okay, hermano.” its also as if miguel is telling himself that, allowing the panic to consume him.

the younger o'hara shakes his head slighty, a weak smile on his lips that are slowly dripping in red. “i-i don’t think t-this time, pendejo…”

“no, no, no. you’re gonna be okay, gabri. ¿me oyes? you’re gonna be fine.”

but the red ooze dripping from gabriel’s lips and the color draining from his skin said otherwise. he was losing him, he was losing his baby brother.

“d-don’t worry a-about me…” a cough of blood makes miguel’s heart ache immensely. “i-i finally g-got to be who i-i wanted to b-be… e-especially contigo, hermano…”

tears swell in his eyes as miguel watched his brother take one final breath and heart beats one last time. a scream of agony erupts from his throat as he clings onto his brother and break into tears.

“miguel?…”

the angelic tone of your voice snaps him out of that horrific memory and looks to see your hand rested on his arm then up to meet your eyes. his own swelled with tears. miguel didn’t realized how close you are, now sitting right beside him.

seeing those gorgeous brown eyes swelled with tears breaks your heart. he was so lost in thought to the point of panicking. you didn’t hesitate to move over and comfort him, you were so worried. you just wanted to pull him into your arms and hug him. miguel shuts his eyes and turns away from you, concealing the tears and guilt.

“gabriel died in combat.”

your heart drops at the heartbreaking revelation.

gabriel died?… now it all makes sense why he was so hesitant to talk about his brother.

he lost him.

miguel fought hard against the tears but no avail, he allowed the dam to break. you don’t hesitate to wrap your arms around him and pull him into a tight embrace, which he accepts immediately. collapsing into your arms, holding you tightly, gripping onto the material of your cardigan as if he’s afraid to let you go, that you would slip out of his arms just like gabriel, as he sobs into your shoulder.

each sob of his breaks a piece of your heart, to the point of your own eyes swelling into tears. it hurts you to hear him break down but you are there to catch him. you embrace his sobbing, shaking figure tightly. digging your fingers into his hair, his grip on your tightens as a response. you don’t ever let go.

“lo siento mucho, miguel…” your soft voice whispers in his ear, making him embrace you tighter.

you feel utterly heartbroken for him. he lost his baby brother in combat, that is traumatic. by what miguel has told you, he and gabriel had a great sibling relationship. he was always by gabriel side for everything. miguel deeply cared about his baby brother. the one person who understood him.

eventually, miguel’s sobs die down and manages to catch his breath after releasing an infinite amount of tears. that left a large wet stain on your cardigan but you don’t care, miguel was all that mattered.

very slowly, his head rises from your now soaked shoulder and leans back to give you some space but still remains close. you look at him but his glossy eyes don’t meet yours. with such tenderness, you wipe his tears with your thumb as you cradle his face. miguel still doesn’t look back but gently rests his forehead against yours and closes his eyes. you simply sit there in silence, basking one another’s presence as miguel takes time to calm down.

after a few minutes of silence, you decide to break it by whispering to him. “you okay?…”

miguel nods slowly and exhales heavily, leaning into your touch as you continue caressing his face. he had to catch his breath to calm down but really you were what calmed him down. utterly melting under your touch, the softness and warmth of your body relaxes him immediately. you are his anchor.

“i was sacred…” barely a whisper yet laced with such remorse and regret. “i was scared of losing you and the baby like i lost gabriel.”

you look up at him with furrowed brows of concern but he still hasn’t meet your eyes.

“losing us? you won’t lose us, amor.” you reassure him in a gentle manner, caressing his cheeks as a way to make him look at you but no avail.

miguel leans away and finally looks back, frowning however. “i failed gabriel, what if i fail you? i failed to protect him, what if i fail to protect you both?”

you shake your head frantically. “you won’t, miguel. what happened to gabriel wasn’t your fault—”

“yes it was.” he cuts you off, turning away but you stop him by gently gripping his chin to look back.

“no, it was not.” a bit firm but still soft. “i know you blame yourself but it wasn’t your fault. just know that gabriel was happy to be with his brother, he wouldn’t want to be anywhere or anyone else but you.”

those glossy brown eyes soften a little by your words. perhaps you’re right, gabriel was at least safe in his arms during his last moments. at least miguel was there with him. it would have been worse if it was any other scenario and miguel didn’t want to think that.

“miguel, escúchame…” those same soft brown eyes look up at you as you cradle his face. “i know you’re afraid and now i understand why… but i promise you won’t lose us, you won’t fail us. we won’t go anywhere, we’ll always be here, with you.”

miguel swears he could cry once again. all he can do is just stare at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes. heart sudden refilled with love that you always provide. those ugly doubts and fears slowly fade away by your words of comfort and reassurance. he rests his hands on top of yours, gives them a gentle squeeze then brings them up to his lips and places a soft kiss to them as a sign of affection and gratitude. the act emits a soft smile on your face.

“i know we just had a heartbreaking conversation but… i still need to know what happened those three weeks.” you look at him hesitantly.

miguel knows you’re right. he admitted his fears and reasons but still hasn’t fully explained himself, especially during those shitty three weeks.

“i know…” his hands release yours as he leans away, turning away to run a hand through his hair with a heavy sigh. “i… i have this hidden cabin off the outskirts of town, that’s where i stayed during those weeks. i didn’t do anything. i barely ate or slept, always had nightmares every time.”

your brows furrowed concerningly. “nightmares?”

another heavy sigh escapes his lips. “of you and the baby… me dying in combat and leaving you alone with the baby… failing you both…”

another revelation that shatters your heart. his trauma has worsened to the extent of having nightmares of dying and losing his family.

this poor, poor man.

“my phone was completely off, i never received any calls or texts. when i did turned it back on, i saw your text about your doctors appointment and i cried…”

your eyes widen slightly in surprise. he… cried?

“you went alone… i wasn’t there for you… i hatred myself for that, i still do.”

the unpleasant memory of your first appointment flashed across your mind. how utterly heartbroken and abounded you felt sitting in the waiting area full of couples. how anxious you felt when you entered the examination room, learning about your pregnancy, and seeing your baby for the first time. how angry you felt when you mentioned to your OB that miguel wasn’t in the picture.

one last sigh from his lips before miguel turns to you with pleading eyes. “mi alma, i know what i did is unforgivable and i’ll forever regret it for the rest of my fucking life. no amount of sorrys could ever take away the pain i caused you. i hurt you and i will never forgive myself. you have every reason to hate me, i deserve it all.” very slowly, his hand gently takes yours. “but know that i love you, i never stopped loving you and never will. eres mi mundo, mi corazón, mi alma gemela, todo.”

it was impossible to not feel bashful by all the adorable endearments. every nickname miguel gave you, it never fails to make your heart flutter.

“i know i can’t go back change the past, i know i can’t take away your pain from those three weeks but i promise you that i want to be part of this.” miguel said sincerely, eyes boring into yours. “i want to have this baby with you, i want to be a father, i want to be a family and raise this baby contigo.”

sudden a rush of adoration flows through you, almost overwhelming but… in a good way? his behavior since last night proved how different he was, he’s still the same kind man you fell in love with and how he wasn’t against having the baby. the way his eyes widen then soften and smiled when he touched your baby bump for the first time proved to you that miguel already loved the baby. you want nothing more than for him to be a part of this family and have this baby together. but that doesn’t mean the consequences of his actions are ignored.

“i… i’m so happy to hear that, miguel, and i want nothing more than to do this together but…” your tone turns more serious. “i can’t forgive you, not yet.”

miguel expected that and he did not blame you one bit because he doesn’t deserve your forgiveness.

“you hurt me, miguel. i know it was bomb dropping news, it was a shitshow, i take part for being irresponsible about the pill, and that it triggered your fears but you hurt me real fucking bad.”

he did and miguel will never forgive himself.

“those were the shittiest three weeks of my life. you weren’t there when i needed you the most.”

he can hear the hurt in your voice and it pains his heart. he has caused so much damage.

“now that you’re here, i’m gonna tell you this.”

miguel’s attention is precise and solely on you, prepared for what you will say.

you look up straight in his eyes with pure sincerity. “if you want to be a part of this, you have to work for it. show me that you want this.”

miguel understands completely. prove his commitment to this family, to you and the baby. and goddamn he will, miguel will do everything he can to prove to you that he wants this.

“i will, i promise, mi amor.” his hands give yours a gentle squeeze, signifying his words.

you believe him.

this is the beginning of rebuilding your relationship. it will require lots of progress but you have faith miguel will prove himself and the love will soon be restored.

it’s a good starting point.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. ♡ @reverieblondie @nina-from-317 @kavimoo @aly29a2001 @lazyjellyfish300 @tojishugetiddies @aphinthestars @novelaaaaaaaa @imamexican @obessgurlll @deputy-videogamer @lovehadlovelost @agoddoesnotplead @saintdiior @whoopwhoppghost @tomalymme @skadiloki @asterrrrose @glossygreene @youcantseem3 @resident-clown @kutsipie @zuevcs @totorotales-08 @meowgirl1 @sukunash0e @sirendyes @leahnicole1219 @lisa-takeshi @yehet-moi-ohorat @slowlyshycomputer @wasitforrevenge @webshoootrz @f1-hoff @chaeriescola @espressopatronum454 @trocaderoisyummy @totallygyomeiswife @mcmiracles @celestialgarden23 @tatatida @whdhjfjvjvjfjdhsj @nocturne-light @xenop0p @juneonhoth @ghostsdoll @marshmallowsforever @ibelyss @imissubaee ( if you’re not tagged, age/age-range is require since this fic is 18+, context for reasons why )

© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡

[nightblackowlbat]

Tim thinking he's in heaven being cared for by Peter Red Hood's two dead brothers is AMAZING. I'm sure the magic surrounding Danny and Jason's graves only adds to that feeling.

And then to come back and automatically figure that Peter Red Hood killed him by accident? Wonderful. He probably thinks Jason and Danny didn't want Tim's death on their last living brother Peter's conscience and that's why they sent him back.

But they DID say that Tim could come back anytime he wanted. So how do you return to heaven? Cue Tim orchestrating more Near-Death-Experiences for himself so that he can see Jason and Danny again.

The Bats are having aneurysms. They just got Tim back, just resolved to protect him and appreciate him while they can. And now he keeps throwing himself into life-threatening danger! And Red Hood, who stole him away to teach them a lesson in protecting Robins, is no doubt very displeased with their failure to keep Tim safe.

Red Hood on the other hand is having his own freak out. He and Danny took Tim on vacation to improve his mental health! Why the fuck is he even more reckless than before? So Red Hood confronts Robin about it. And Tim explains what's going on in his head.

"I saw- I met your brothers, Peter." He admits.

Red Hood rocks back on his heels. "My... brothers?"

"I know it sounds insane. But when you hit me with the tranq, I died. I must have, because when I woke up, I was in heaven with Danny and Jason."

Robin grabs Red Hood's hands.

"Peter, they're happy. Your brothers are so, so happy. And they love you. They love me, and I can't imagine why but I'm so grateful they do. They love us, and that's why Jason took me back. He didn't want my death to be on your conscience. But Danny told me I can visit, and I've been trying!"

"Wh-" Red Hood pulls his hands out of Robin's grasp. Settles one on his shoulders, the other over his face. A faint wheeze can be heard through the mask. "You think- okay. Okay. You're coming with me, now."

So Robin gets abducted by Red Hood for the second time and on the way to the farm he explains that Peter is Jason is Red Hood and that being undead is just something he and Danny share in common.

"Yes, I died. Yes Danny died. But we're not dead dead, and neither are, were, or will you be anytime soon, baby bird! If you wanted to go back to the farm all you needed to do was ask. Quit giving me grey hairs!"

And the poor, poor Bats think Red Hood took away their Robin privileges again because they failed to keep him safe.

DC x DP - Two of a Kind

Danny running away from his home dimension for such and such reasons (GIW, bad reveal, etc, etc) cue him stumbling around Gotham because holy mother of ambient ectoplasm, Batman.

So anyways he���s just chilling in crime alley, as a struggling guy in Gotham does and then. And then there’s someone else. Looks exactly like him. Not like how he and Dani look similar, her features just softer and rounded with babyfat, no, no, this guy looks exactly like him. Down to the barely there scattering of freckles on the nose bridge.

It’s Jason Todd. Danny is his dimensions version of Jason Todd.

[happilykrispypirate]

can you maybe do mattheo riddle x malfoy!reader

with the slytherin group, and mattheo and reader are secretly together and they get caught by someone?

i love your work sm!!

Whoops

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x fem!Malfoy!reader

Warnings: Swearing, a very very heated makeout sesh, mentions of sex, and my shitty writing.

A/n: Holy shiiitt, it's been a while since I've posted anything. Sorry! I'm back, for idk how long. I've been through a bunch of emotional shit and now I need an outlet. So, hii.

A/n 2: okay I'm really back this time, or I should be.

-

"Are you serious right now?" Y/n laughed at Mattheo's poor attempt to catch the jellybean in his mouth.

"Hey it's not my fault you throw like shit," He laughed along with her.

"Oh, you're no better, mister!" Y/n giggled.

"Oh, really?" Mattheo then stood up and grabbed her and threw her over his shoulder.

Y/n squealed and giggled, before Mattheo threw her on the bed and pinned her by her hands.

"I still throw like shit?" He asked, smirking. His face close to hers, she giggled.

"I think you're improving," She said.

Mattheo chuckled, shaking his head, absolutely absorbed by her being. He never could've imagined that they would end up together. She being a Malfoy and all. Her parents would never approve, not like they'd have much of a choice if he got his father on his side.

Their friends are blabbermouths, to say the least, especially the other Malfoy. Hence why they don't know about the relationship either.

Both of them also enjoyed their little world they've created far too much to tell anyone in anyway.

Mattheo, too caught up in the moment, smashed his lips onto hers. A slight breathy moan escaped her lips onto his at the force of his kiss.

Tongues intertwined mere seconds later, Y/n wrapped her arms around his neck, and her legs around his waist.

Mattheo knew exactly what she wanted to happen. So, he slowly started grinding, teasing her.

A whine escaped her and her legs tightened, as if to tell him to stop teasing.

Just as Mattheo's hand was about to reach down, the door swung open.

"Hey mate, have you seen-" Blaise, the bastard, had stopped dead in his tracks, words leaving him with each second he sees the scene in front of him.

"What the fuck, Blaise," Mattheo spat, as he separated himself from the girl.

"Oh my God!" Blaise exclaimed, eyes wide as saucers. He then turned around and ran, yelling, "Mattheo and Y/n were making out!! They almost had sex!!"

"Unfortunately, almost," Mattheo groaned earning a wack on the arm.

"He's gonna tell everyone!" Y/n said.

"It's about time they knew, love," Mattheo said looking at her.

"I know," She said, and then a few moments later she giggled, "We so traumatized Blaise."

Mattheo chuckled, "I think we can do worse," He said, before he climbed back on top of her.

"Now, where were we."

---

Holy fuck I'm so sorry it took me this long to actually write and post.

[grilledcheese-aspiration]

i need someone to test these out.

imma still 🏴‍☠️ IF/when i feel the need to but I wanna know if the pink soup is ACTUALLY ""fixed"".

idc about the shadow box, we've had a fix for that for YEARS now. I'm def interested in "fixed several crashes" - what does this entail EA?

also "improvements and fixes" ok EA, what ARE those? LET ME FUCKING SEE WHAT YOU DID TO MY GAME.

here is where can find this info on the website!

[lyrenminth]

The best example

Fluff. Comforting Joe.

What you most feared was a reality, and you didn't know what to feel precisely.

You were numb, but something in the back of your mind was bothering you and if you closed your eyes, you could tell.

You weren't good enough.

You tried your best and failed in the process and now you couldn't stop overthinking every single thing you did in the past six months. What went wrong? Why it wasn't enough? Did you spent more time doing other things? Or you didn't have the same capacities as before?

You opened the chat with Joe, and read again the message he sent you in the morning.

"You're gonna get it, don't worry baby. I'm super proud"

You eyes started to fill with tears, and you couldn't read the message anymore. You let out a sob and sat on the couch, with your head between your hands, feeling the waves of pain and disappointment for yourself.

Why you weren't enough? What were going to do now? You thought about all the sleepless night that you spent studying, the games you missed and the events you skipped, and for what? The letter you received in the morning was simple and professional. Since you read the first words your stomach churned.

"We are sorry to inform you that..."

You weren't good enough. You weren't good enough and it hurt like hell.

You didn't want to call Joe or anyone. Instead you turn off your phone and stared at the wall until you eyelids were heavy.

"Love" you felt something brushing your cheeks. "Wake up"

You stirred awake, gentle blue eyes keep staring at you with curiosity and worry. The face of your husband was close to you, and for a moment you didn't thought about anything.

"Did you turn off your phone?" he asked, softly.

He knew. Oh, God he knew. Then, the rejection came back in full force, your chin quivered and you tried to hold back the tears.

"Joe" you whispered "I didn't..." you shook your head, insecure about what to say.

"Ssh, baby it's okay" he said, sitting down and pulling you across his lap, as if you were a child. His strong arms held your back, hugging you. "It's okay" he kissed your forehead and it was unusual for him to be this soft, but you needed it.

You cried, ugly crying. Nose dripping and sobbing uncontrollably type of crying. It made you feel ridiculous, but you couldn't stop.

"I really really want it, Joe" you spoke, "I try so hard and f-fell sh-short" you sobbed, hiding your face of the curve of his neck.

"I know, baby" his lips brushing your forehead once again. "It fucking sucks" you explained, the hiccup starting.

"I'm here, it's okay" he reassures once again. You soothe under his touch, suddenly aware where his hands were, over your thigh, gently rubbing, the other on your back making circles. Slowly, you breathing even out and you could feel the tension leaving your body. Joe's warm chest help you with that too. "You're the most intelligent woman I know, don't let a bad moment erase all you have done" he said.

"How do you do it?" you asked, your voice raspy and weak.

"What?"

"You're are a professional athlete, you try hard and sometimes you lose, I know you and I know that you dislike losing and makes you angry, but what do you think?" Joe fell silent for a few minutes, considering his answer. His voice more personal when he spoke again.

"You have the right to feel like shit" he replied his lips brushing your skin as he spoke. "But shouldn't be forever. Your life shouldn't be defined for a mistake or a fail, not if you didn't hurt anyone" he clarified. "I think that I will have the chances to make it right even if the first time didn't work as I wanted. I think about the things I can improve so next time it's less hard. My mistakes don't define every outcome of my life but sure help me to change the results"

You thought about it. Joe was always under pressure because of his profession, and he handled everything beautifully most of the times. You have seen his lows and highs, so you had a great example to follow.

"Thank you, Joe" you said, and gave him a peck.

"You're going to be fine, not now but soon" he told you, and you nodded. You believed it too.

There, in is his arms everything seemed easier.

[pr0cyon-lotor]

I need all of you to HEAR ME THE FUCK OUT

The Qing Jing trio but they're dating. Somewhat. At least BingFan are. Ning Yingying has a queerplatonic thing going on with both of them.

Like for some reason BingFan are co-head disciples and constantly trying to one up each other (in a very homoerotic way mind you). NYY feels left out so she secretly takes lessons from LQG so she could be on par with both of them.

This leads to her cultivation significantly improving and she can even topple MF over in a sparing match. LBH of course tries to give a backhanded remark before promptly getting thrown to the ground by NYY too.

Eventually when the Conference arrives and NYY actually gets selected too. All three go together and when the canon event happens, MF tries to pull LBH up but falters. They both end up falling in and NYY tries to pull them both up but ends up falling in too.

SQQ is panicking because "ohhhh fuck oh fuck. Ning Yingying and Ming Fan are going to die there. Of course LBh will be fine, but those two?"

Anyway he goes back to Qing Jing and does his whole mourning thing, and then all three come out and take over the demon realm.

SQH is the first to find out and was like "What... What the fuck?! That's not supposed to happen?!"

Eventually they go to Qing Jing and give SQQ the scare of a lifetime. Soon he gets used to it because aww his little ducklings are back 🥹

Just ignore that now all three can bring fear into a demon's heart. They're just his little babies. It's so unfortunate that he missed Ning Yingying and Luo Binghe's marriage :(

Huh, why does Ming Fan have a ring too? 🤔🤨

[mbta-unofficial]

I feel on some level that people who hate buses are the same people who don't use them much but also didn't care about transit 3 years ago. I take the bus 5-8 times a week and it never lets me down. When I lived in Chicago, the L fucking blew but the CTA buses never failed me either.

there are a lot of advantages to a strong bus network:

First and foremost: STARTUP CAPITAL

Transit is expensive. Ways to make transit affordable for cities to build is a huge way to increase the availability of transit. A bus network requires a fraction of the capital that a train system does. Trains take tracks, which means construction, which means environmental impact, lawsuits, and eminent domain. It means planning routes that must necessarily disrupt the urban space because every part of a city is already being used for something. A bus takes advantage of preexisting infrastructure and can be built for little more than the price of stock and labor. Your city could build buses now. If they have them, they could improve them. My mom's town of 7,000 has buses that go all the way to the amtrack station a mile away from my house. They aren't frequent, but they're there.

Two: adaptability

A train that doesn't have tracks is a sunk cost. If a bridge goes out, there's a fire, a blizzard, you name it, that mode is out of operation. You need to be doing constant maintenance on every track mile. You also have to be doing maintenance on every road mile, but that will happen regardless because of existing US transit priorities. Roads that don't have public transit on them are not taking advantage of those priorities. A bus can always drive around an obstacle because the US has a road system with built in redundancy, while it does not have a train system that has the same.

Three: Service priority

Buses directly compete with cars, challenging the car-centric road paradigm. A bus with 3 people on it is a more efficient use of road space we already built than 2 single occupant cars. Consistent buses on regular and useful routes will put direct pressure on drivers to switch transit modes because of the costs of car ownership compared to bus ridership. Buses also run slower than trains meaning that more frequent stops are less of a drag on efficiency, and cover the gaps that a well planned metro ought to leave between stations in order to reach peak operating speeds.

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

Arguments:

Yue Qingyuan: he's sect leader so he has enough authority and respect for the junior disciples not to giggle too much to his face. Uses very elegant and veiled language, lots of euphemisms. Qi Qingqi heard him refer to vaginas as "flowers" once and she nearly qi deviated. He keeps it brief and vague and doesn't take more than two questions which he usually redirects to Mu Qingfang because he's a doctor and not because Yue Qingyuan is too flustered. He focuses a lot on being respectful and gentle, as well as ready to take responsibility if accidents happen. There's a rumor in CQM for a week that YQY is boringly vanilla in bed if his flowery lesson is anything to go by (it isnt).

Qi Qingqi: very thorough, with a focus on why it's important to be safe, sane and consensual. She teaches a very detailed class on women's health and bodies and everybody has to attend and take notes. There will be a test at the end. No, it doesnt matter if youre gay or ace. You take the test. Extra lesson on sexual harrassment because she has seen the way men ogle her female disciples and she made it a point to remind everyone that her peak disciples are taught a secret technique to emergency castrate men if so needed (nobody knows if this is actually true but nobody wants to find out).

Shang Qinghua: goes into way too much detail. It somehow feels like an engineering lesson, he is very focused on the logistics of things and what goes where. Use lube and don't beat your partner up unless it's been negotiated before are his main lessons and everyone can tell it's from personal experience. He's very open to talk about kinks and fetishes, though. Recommends buying his own bad smut as guide for sex. Sales dont skyrocket, go figure. His disciples are pretty sure that their peak lord isnt having sex the right way.

Liu Qingge: "if you have sex you will die." is how he starts the lesson. He lists out all the possible bad consequences of sex, from UTIs and pregnancies, to deadly STDs and qi deviation. He doesn't believe in dual cultivation, if you want to improve your core you have to train like a normal person. The lesson is mostly about how to defend oneself in case of a non-consensual situation. The whole CQM decides nobody fucks on Bai Zhan peak because they are too scared of Liu Qingge.

Shen Qingqiu (as Shen Yuan): he is very flustered about it, with his thin face and all, so he mostly focuses on the emotional side of it, how it should be with someone trustworthy and enthusiastically consensual. He also drops the more uncomfortable questions on to Mu Qingfang. If you mention the Song of Bingqiu to him, you receive 57 laps around the mountain precisely. Makes it a point to say that, if accidents do happen, he is open to help out with any unexpected children. His disciples are even more flushed than he is because he didnt turn off the wife beam.

Shen Qingqiu (as Shen Jiu): no. He wont do it. They can read about it in books or ask Mu Qingfang or whatever other alternative, Shen Jiu isn't teaching them anything about that. He isnt doing this full stop. Its bad enough people look down on him for visiting brothels, like hell will he talk about it to a bunch of horny teenagers. They'll figure it out eventually. He drops something like "make sure you dont force anyone into it including yourself" and doesnt elaborate.

Mu Qingfang: everyone just expects him to do it so he's the CQM's Aunt Flo whether he likes it or not. He's the most normal about it, explaining everything in medical terms and presenting possible negative comsequences rationally, without fearmongering. The only one open to answering all questions, no matter how wild. Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe also sneakily attend the lesson for...additional information. He is very calm and relaxed about it. Everyone thinks Mu Qingfang gets mad hole in his free time because he knows everything about everything.

[brattylikestoeat]

You seem like you are having great sex, wish I could relate. :(

Closed mouths don’t get fed. I told myself a long time ago. If I was going to deal with men, my needs had to be met. I will not fuck a man that cant fuck me back. If he the only one receiving pleasure and getting an orgasm then I’m out. ✌🏾

Teach, coach, train, a man how to please you because they going off shit they seen in porn. I’m not a porn star you not just gone bang me and walk away. Put in the effort to get me there or never touch me again.

Donald couldn’t even eat pussy when I met him. He done it maybe 4 times he said, his ex wife didn’t care if he did or didn’t. Had to train him to do it right for me. Took him a year.

Gator got the equipment but wanted to fuck like a porn star. Slow down bucko, this ain’t no race. Had to teach that mf how to stroke it correctly.

All I’m saying is two things, speak up. Men tend to think they’ve done a good job in the bedroom because they finish. Unless you are vocal about your needs they won’t know and most won’t ask. BE VOCAL.

Teach, coach, train. If he can’t get with the program to learn your needs, he doesn’t need access to your body. And they don’t get unlimited chances to try either. After the second encounter you either showing improvement or you don’t care enough and therefore I’m not fucking you, bye.

[familyagrestefanblog]

Wow, the REALLY put a whole moment in there where Ladybug (and Chat Noir) gets hit by the improvement powers and it doesn't work on her because she's already her best self (Adrien too)

They're REALLY overcompensating here to make sure that everyone gets it that Maribug can do whatever harmful things she likes to another innocent person and she still must be viewed as basically flawless. She's unable to improve more in anyway, nothing bad could possibly happen through her that makes her less than the greatest person ever.

There is 0 willingness to just have Maribug be the one on the wrong and have it actually be bad how she's behaving and that she needs to improve on how inconsidered she is. Sure, she was the "bad guy", but they did everything in their power to make sure no one gets to say her flaws MATTER and do make her less than the embodiment of goodness.

Also wonderful how Adrichat is being used as her hype man here, but she's literally withholding all information from him on what she even DID. In the end, for him it really just looks like Ladybug accidentally caused a bad accident she can thankfully fix with her powers. Adrien is withhold in both identities that Marinette did not had pure intentions here or what dangerous things Marinette did to Sublime. And that even Ladybug landing in front of a running Sublime was no accident, she fully intended on doing that so Sublime can see Ladybug asking for the "akuma victim".

But sure Miraculous, Adrichat telling Ladybug that she is her best self totally means something.

Remember kids, when you fucked up badly, go to a random person who knows nothing about the case and ask them if they think you're awful. Them telling you "no" absolutely is a morally sound and accurate assessment of what happened 👍

[clemelntine]

Heartkillers ep 10 uncohesive stray thoughts

With screenshots cuz I take to many and I'll feel like that's wasteful if I don't at least use them for a post

God, this scene reeks of codependency. But like in a good way, yknow. In an evidence of love way. They just don't want to be apart because they care. And I guess cuz they're scared they won't see each other again.

I love Fadel and his consistent morals. He'd been silent, letting Bison get his anger and revenge, cus that is not his main thing, but as soon as he hears any word of deciet or lies, he's right on his feet getting involved.

Yeah that checks.

I have to wonder, tho, if Lilly is a poisoner, why were Fadel and Bisons' parents shot? And why would she train them with a gun instead of the weapon she know best?

That's not the unbelievable part dear. She seems very capable of all that. Look at what she made you do

Acting like some housewives worrying about their husbands away at war or some shit.

Imma be real with you. I wasn't paying attention for a bit, and I read this as "Why don't you try and top Fadel?" and I got a little hopeful for a bit.

We've got a comeback from the -two rings on one finger, no other jewelry- look from style. Love this energy.

For anyone wondering, the first time we saw this was in episode 6 when he was out drinking with Kant, so it might just be what he wears when he goes to get drunk with his buddy. Guess there aren't too many occasions for a mechanic to wear a mid finger index ring. It tends to get in the way a lot when moving (like manual labor). And if you dont wear a ring often, choosing to wear no other jewelry to make your specialty ring pop makes a lot of sense.

Sorry, I looked too deeply into that.

Lillys actress is so stunning. The discomfort and distaste on her face is so subtle but to perfect.

Oh, drama, Keen already knows about (one of) their lovers and tried to kill him. I wonder why he used a gun, tho. The only flashback/scene we saw of them pre assassin, while training, was to show that Keen was a worse shot than Bison and Fadel. Did he improve or was the reason he missed (only hitting styles arm, not killing him) because he still has bad aim.

Also, could the tattoo be Kants' work? It kinda reminds me of his spiderweb arm tatoo, but that doesn't mean its his style (he might not have done his arm one himself), so who knows, maybe they know each other, maybe they don't.

Fucking romantic loser, holy shit. He couldn't see gay people without thinking of his boyfriend

That's not something to be fucking proud of cassie

Nr. 1 god his hair looks fucking good like this

Nr. 2 Mister poetry over here, annoying piece of shit with his lovey dovey words

Ofc Style would instigate a cheer, like this is a cheersquad and not a murder operation

I really need him to stop mentioning it all the time, like he is proud of it or something

Oh, uniform kink. Interesting

Okay, I kinda feel bad for Keen now. Nobody seems to care about him (except Thanon ig, I hope nothing bad happens to him). Lilly didn't even care enough to use him.

Also, jesus Fadel, you're brothers. You've never put in even an hour of effort to ask about his day or some shit, rude. (I get that they are all just a product of Lillys creation but but this seems a lil excessive)

With the tattoos. That is quite a bold plan. There is like a 50/50 change they (rich ladies) are put off by the tattoos. Guess some might see it as an adventure and be into it. It's still a gamble.

Also like how does he know golfing, tho? Had he golfed before, or is Kant just good at improvising, because he looked quite knowledgable.

The way he has lowered himself to look up at her through his lashes, the fucking bitch. Once again using First height for storytelling. This time, Kant has lowered himself to make Lilly feel like she is above him and in control.

Idk if she is open-minded or if she could just smell the gay on him.

Ahw, he cares. Does he expect Keen to do that, tho? Like Fadel knows that he already tried to kill Style and has shot him. He doesn't seem likely to suddenly care about the wishes of his brother, who doesn't even care about him.

Not too sure what it means but i just noticed that Fadel has his whole head and neck angled up while Styles face is pointed to the front and he is just looking up with his eyes, through his eyelashes.

Maybe it's to show that Fadel is more confrontational while Style is more scared of Keen.

Oh, calling his bluff, cute. I dont remember if Fadel backed down when Bison pointed his gun at Style but if he did (i think so) that contrast shows very well how succesfull Lilly has been in driving them apart by making them all think Keen is less capable (mostly because she just didnt let him train)

Ofcourse he has to brag, has to lay out his success (he could have kept it to himself to use it for longer, but whatever, guess he expects to take him out right here, right now). Because Keen doesn't actually have any negative feelings towards Fadel (except maybe jealousy), he mostly just wants to prove himself to be capable. Even though he is holding the gun, it is Lilly who has her finger on the trigger. Without her constant critique, he would have felt the need to do all this. It's really her words that are driving Keen to do this, not Fadel (and Bisons) actions.

Yeah, and i feel like Keen should know that. Doesnt he know about her killing Fadels boyfriend, and he knows she wants Style dead as well, he has all the evidence he needs to see that Fadel and Bison dont have any more freedom or happiness than he does, just more tasks.

The continual cutting to Style while they talk about Fadels ex probably has to tell us something, but i honeslty can't read that much off his face. Is he jealous?

You're telling me Fadel couldn't figure that out himself. Even if he didn't think about it too much then (too sad or something), now with this new info he has about her, it shouldn't come as that much of a shock. She killed your parents and is trying to kill your boyfriend. It is not odd to think this patern is connected.

The desparation in both his eyes, his words, and his voice; it's fucking heartbreaking

Squished Fadel, perfection

Styles speech was a lil akward, but he got his point across and he has never really been a poet before. The honesty, although clunky, makes it seem more vulnerable and true, more like Style

Fav scenes

Fadel and Bisons emotional breakdown in the abandoned building. Omg the feelings..

Kant golfing was very cute.

Kant and Bison in the empty pool. Shit was stunning.

Fadel and Styles last scene. Maybe I just like Fadel crying and strong emotions.

For anyone wondering about my statistics, I took a total of 180 screenshots. 81 of Fadel and or Style, 58 of Kant and or Bison, 10 of Keen, 8 of Bison and Fadel together, 7 of Reurat, 5 of Lilly, 5 of more than two characters in a shot, 3 of Kant and Style together, 2 of Lilly and Keen together, and 1 of Babe

[starvrse]

UNDER PRESSURE

pairing: kim nakyoung x trainee fem!reader

summary : dance teacher nakyoung fingers u 😅

warnings: she manipulates u into sex !!!, fingering, mirror sex, dom naky, etc.

unnecessary bs: 3.8k words

seated in front of the studio mirror, nakyoung carefully observes your group of seven as you rehearse the same song for the umpteenth time. her sharp gaze flicks from one member to the next, taking in every movement, every gesture, and every imperfection. with a critical eye, she notes every wrong step, every missed beat, and every flaw in the choreography. she studies the dynamics of the group, the interactions between the members, and the cohesiveness of the performance.

as the dance comes to an end with a performance that appears flawless, the girl with her feline like features stands up from her previous sitting position, releasing a deep breath she had been holding. she stretches out her muscles, loosening any tension that had built up during the extensive rehearsal. Her sharp, perceptive eyes look over the members.

“yn.” she calls out to you with a strict tone. “step forward.”

you swallow hard and walk to the center of the room, feeling the weight of her sharp gaze. the rest of the girls watch, their expressions a mix of concern and tension.

“you hesitated on the bridge,” nakyoung says, her voice cold and cutting. “it threw off the entire performance. this isn’t a game, we can’t have weak links in this group.”

you nod, trying to maintain your composure. “i’ll do better,” you reply, but your voice falters slightly.

“better isn’t good enough,” she snaps. “you need to step it up. I don’t wanna see any more mistakes.”

she pauses, her eyes narrowing. “after practice, I want you to stay back. we need to go over your parts. I don’t care if everyone else is done for the day, your training isn’t complete yet.”

you feel a surge of anxiety mixed with determination, and your ears burn with embarrassment as the rest of the group observes your reprimand. “okay,” you respond quietly, trying to steady your voice.

“good,” she replies, crossing her arms. “now let’s run it again, but this time, I want to see real improvement. show me you can handle the pressure.”

as the music starts, you focus all your energy on the dance, trying to shake off the weight of her criticism. but with each move, you can feel her eyes piercing through you, assessing every misstep.

when the performance ends, you catch a glimpse of the other members exchanging glances, concern and tiredness etched on their faces. but nakyoung’s gaze remains locked on you, relentless and unwavering.

“not bad, but still not enough,” she says, a hint of disappointment in her tone. “the rest of you can go.”

the other six members share knowing looks, sensing the tension in the air. one by one, they bow to nakyoung, murmuring their thanks before slipping out of the studio. you watch as their silhouettes and voices fade away, leaving you alone with raven haired girl.

as the door clicks shut, nakyoung’s demeanor shifts slightly, but her intensity remains. “you need to step up your game, yn,” she continues, crossing her arms. “i know you have potential, but right now, you’re holding the team back.”

you take a deep breath, preparing for the feedback. “i understand. i’ll work harder.”

“harder isn’t enough,” she replies, her voice firm. “i need to see more confidence. you’re letting your nerves get the best of you, and it shows.”

nodding, you reaching for your water bottle and take a sip. your gaze follows your instructor as she strides toward the door—and suddenly, she locks it.

the fuck is she locking the door for?

you crease your eyebrows together while slightly tilting your head to the side.

nakyoung takes notice of your expression and smirks. “just so no one can interrupt us” she says, answering your question without hearing you say it.

nakyoung steps away from the door, her eyes never leaving you. she walks slowly, almost deliberately, as if she’s measuring each step. you can feel the pressure building in the silence between you two.

“come to the center.” she commands, her tone flat, but there’s something in it that makes you move without thinking.

you take a few tentative steps forward, your heart pounding in your chest, the weight of her gaze heavy on you. as you stop in the center of the room, you glance at the mirror, but her reflection is the only one you focus on.

“show me your confidence,” nakyoung says, her voice low, almost like a challenge. “you’ve got the moves, but you don’t own them yet.”

you swallow hard, your hands trembling slightly as you wait for the music to start. the room is still, quiet, and then the music hits—sharp, fast, and unforgiving.

you push yourself to match every beat, every movement, but something feels off. the pressure, her gaze—it’s too much.

nakyoung doesn’t say a word, but you can feel her judgment in the air, sharp and cutting. with each move, you try to find the confidence she demands, but all you can hear in your head is her voice, reminding you that it’s not enough.

when the music cuts off, her gaze sharpens, locking onto you.

“better, but still not enough,” she says, her words chilling. “you’re still holding back. why?”

you take a deep breath, shaking your head, trying to shake off the nerves. “i… i don’t know.”

“you do know.” she snaps, her tone harsh. “you either want this or you don’t.”

you nod quickly, determined to prove yourself, but the sting of her disappointment lingers in the air.

nakyoung studies you for a moment longer, then, without saying a word, she strides toward the center of the room, stopping just inches from you. her presence feels overwhelming, close, and you feel your pulse quicken under her gaze.

“show me again.” she commands, her voice a soft order. she doesn’t wait for a response before she moves, reaching out to guide you.

with surprising confidence, nakyoung steps in closer, her fingers brushing lightly against your waist as she positions you. her touch is firm, but not unkind, as she adjusts your posture, her fingers pressing into your sides to correct your stance.

“you’re too stiff here,” she murmurs, her breath warm against your ear. without giving you time to react, she moves your arm, pulling it up and guiding it through the motion. her hand stays there for a moment, her fingers lingering just a little longer than necessary.

you try to focus on the movements, but her closeness is hard to ignore. the touch is so direct, so insistent, that it makes your breath catch in your throat.

“relax,” she says, her voice low as she moves her hands to your shoulders, squeezing gently to ease the tension. “you need to feel the movement, not just do it. follow me.”

she moves you through the steps, her hands on your waist, your arms, directing you with precision. each time you make a mistake, she corrects you, her touch gentle but unyielding. she shifts your body with the confidence of someone who knows exactly what they want, guiding you into the correct form without hesitation.

“good, but you’re still holding back,” she says, her voice softer now, almost a whisper. she adjusts your arms again, moving closer to correct your position, her fingers brushing over your ribs. you can feel the heat of her body near yours, the tension thick between you two.

her touch lingers for a moment longer than it should, and you feel a mix of unease and something else—something you can’t quite place.

“again.” she orders, her hands moving to your waist once more as she pulls you into the next step, her touch controlling.

you obey, your body moving with hers, but inside, you’re still trying to adjust, unsure of the line between instruction and something more.

as nakyoung continues to guide you through the moves, you try to focus, but her touch is making it harder and harder to concentrate. her fingers at your waist, the way she adjusts your posture, it’s all too close, too intimate. the heat of her body against yours makes it difficult to breathe properly, let alone execute the steps with precision.

you feel her hand slide down your arm, her fingers brushing against your skin as she shifts you into the next position, but something inside you jolts at the touch. your mind begins to wander, thoughts tumbling over each other, and suddenly, you can’t remember the next move.

you freeze.

nakyoung doesn’t miss it.

“yn,” she says, her voice sharp, a hint of irritation creeping into her tone. “focus.”

you nod quickly, trying to regain control, but as you try to step into the next part of the choreography, your foot stumbles. the misstep throws you off balance, and you find yourself faltering, your body unable to catch up to the rhythm.

nakyoung steps back, crossing her arms over her chest, her gaze now colder, calculating.

“you’re distracted,” she states flatly. “and it’s affecting your performance.”

you swallow, the frustration building inside you. her gaze never leaves you, sharp and disapproving. you try to steady your breath, but your nerves are getting the best of you.

“this is not the time for distractions,” she continues, her voice firm but controlled. “you want to be better, but you’re not taking it seriously.”

you bite your lip, trying to gather your focus again. but the heat of her touch, the memory of her fingers on your waist, is still lingering, and it’s clouding your thoughts.

“again.” nakyoung demands, her eyes narrowing. “this time, no mistakes.”

you nod silently, but inside, you’re battling the growing tension, the confusion of what her touch means versus what you’re supposed to do. as the music starts again, you brace yourself for another attempt, but you know that this time, the pressure is all on you.

nakyoung watches you with a cold, assessing gaze as you stumble through the next move. you can feel the weight of her disapproval pressing down on you, the mistake now hanging in the air between you two.

she doesn’t say anything at first, but then, with a sharp exhale, she steps back, putting a little distance between you.

“break.” she says flatly, her voice cutting through the tension. she turns and walks over to the mirror, her movements calm but deliberate.

you stand there, your breath coming in shallow bursts, trying to steady yourself after the mistake. your mind races, your nerves still frazzled. you glance at nakyoung, unsure of what to do next.

she doesn’t look at you right away. instead, she sits down on the floor in front of the mirror, crossing her legs in a casual, almost expectant manner.

“come here,” she says without looking up, her tone softer but still carrying an undeniable command.

you hesitate, but the pull of her presence is too strong, and against your better judgment, you step forward. her eyes flicker up to meet yours, and there’s something unreadable in her gaze.

as you approach, nakyoung pats her lap, a silent invitation that leaves you frozen for a moment. she raises an eyebrow, the sharpness of her expression softened by the calmness in her posture.

“sit,” she instructs, her voice carrying that unmistakable authority.

you swallow, unsure, but comply, slowly lowering yourself onto her lap. the sudden closeness makes your skin prickle with nerves. her body feels warm against yours, her presence overwhelming in the stillness of the room.

nakyoung shifts slightly, making you settle more comfortably in her lap. her hand rests on your waist, a gentle yet possessive touch that contrasts with the tension in your body.

“breathe.” she mumbles against your ear, her voice unexpectedly soothing, as if she’s trying to ground you.

you try, but it’s hard to ignore the heat of her hand on your side, the way her fingers seem to linger there longer than necessary. her presence is consuming, and your heart races with a mix of confusion and something else—something you can’t quite place.

“you need to focus, yn,” she says, her tone soft but carrying an edge. “you’re letting distractions take over. I need to see you own it, all of it.”

you nod slowly, trying to steady your breath, but the closeness, the intensity of her touch—it makes it harder to think clearly.

nakyoung’s fingers trace light circles on your waist as she holds you in her lap. the silence is heavy, her sharp eyes studying you in the mirror. after a long pause, she tilts her head slightly, as if coming to a decision.

“i have an idea,” she says, her voice low, deliberate. her hand tightens slightly on your waist, grounding you. “but you have to cooperate.”

before you can even ask what she means, you feel her lean in, her lips brushing against the side of your neck. the gesture is slow, purposeful, and sends a jolt through your entire body.

“unnie,” you say, your voice shaky, as you instinctively pull back slightly, your hands gripping her arm. “i… i don’t think we should do this.”

she freezes, her lips hovering just above your skin, her breath warm against your neck. for a moment, the air between you is thick with unspoken tension, and then she pulls back completely, her hands slipping from your waist.

she grips your jaw firmly, tilting your head just enough to force your eyes to meet hers in the mirror. “you want to debut, don’t you?” she uttered, her voice low and laced with a quiet, unmistakable threat.

her gaze is sharp, unrelenting, and it pins you in place. the question lingers in the air, heavier than it should be, her grip on your jaw firm but not harsh.

“well?” she asks, her voice soft but insistent.

“yes.” you manage to whisper, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

“good.” she says, her lips curling into a faint smirk. her fingers trail lightly along your jawline, the tension in the room thick and inescapable.

nakyoung leans back in and licks a slow, deliberate stripe up the side of your neck. her tongue is warm and wet, leaving a trail of shivers in its wake. you tense at the unexpected contact, a soft gasp escaping your lips as you lean into her unconsciously.

she chuckles softly, pleased with the reaction she's gotten. she repeats the motion, licking another stripe up your neck before nipping gently at the sensitive skin just beneath your ear. your heart racing in your chest as you struggle to catch your breath.

her hand slowly drifts down from your waist to your thigh, her fingers splaying out as she runs her hand up and down the inside of your thigh possessively. she can feel you tensing beneath her touch, your breath hitching in your throat with each pass of her hand.

the girl’s hand continues its slow, teasing journey up and down your thigh, her fingers eventually reaching the hem of your sweatpants. she pauses for a moment, her fingers hovering just above your covered sex before slowly inching them underneath the fabric. her touch is gentle at first, just a light brushing against your panties.

"this isn't right..." you muttered weakly, your face flushing as you squirm in her lap, torn between the urge to pull away and the growing warmth between your legs. nakyoung simply hushes you, her fingers pressing more firmly against your center through your panties.

"shhh, it's good for you," she whispers, her voice low and soothing as she slowly rubs her fingers in circles against your covered heat. "you're so tense, you need this. you need to relax."

she starts to move her fingers in a steady rhythm, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you gasp and arch your back. "see?" she purrs, her breath hot against your ear. "your body knows what it needs, even if your mind is protesting."

"too many clothes..." nakyoung stated, one hand still expertly working between your legs while the other moves to your waist. she hooks her fingers into the waistband of your pants and starts to pull them down, maneuvering you carefully in her lap.

as she pulls your pants down, a giggle escapes her lips. "well, aren't these cute?" she remarks, her fingers pausing momentarily to trace the playful cartoon pattern printed on the fabric. "i never took you for a cute underwear kinda girl."

“too bad they have to go.” she says, fully removing your panties. leaving you bare, an instinctive reaction takes over, you try to close your legs, a deep blush spreading across your cheeks and down your neck. your heart races as embarrassment and a touch of fear tingle through you. "n-no, i... i can't..”

nakyoung chuckles softly, placing her strong hands on your inner thighs to keep your legs apart. "oh, you can and you will," she teases, her fingers splaying wider to hold you open. "you're too cute like this, trying to hide."

nakyoung leans in closer, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispers, "besides, doesn't it feel better to let go? to surrender to someone who knows exactly what you need?" her hot breath sends shivers down your spine.

"now, be a good girl and keep your legs open for me. i'm just getting started." with a firm but gentle touch, the older girl resumes rubbing slow circles around your sensitive clit. your moans fill the room as pleasure builds with each rotation.

as your moans grow louder, nakyoung quickly but playfully covers your mouth with one hand, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "as much as i love hearing those beautiful noises, we don't want the whole company knowing what i'm doing to you, do we?"

she leans in close, her lips hovering just above your ear as she continues to tease your clit with slow, deliberate circles. "i want to hear you scream my name when you cum, but for now..." she nips gently at your earlobe, "keep it down, sweetheart."

nakyoung’s fingers tease your entrance, gathering moisture before slowly, gently pushing one inside. her eyes widen slightly as she feels how incredibly tight you are. "wow... you're practically untouched, aren't you?" she murmurs, wonder and excitement coloring her voice. "don't worry, i'll be gentle."

nakyoung’s finger pushes deeper, slowly stretching your tight walls. you squirm and wriggle in her lap, your legs trembling as you try to accommodate her intrusion. the dancer holds you firmly in place, her other hand still covering your mouth to muffle your desperate whimpers and squeaks.

"stay still." nakyoung commands, her voice low and dominant. "you're making this harder than it needs to be." she curls her finger inside you, hitting a spot that makes you arch your back and try to pull away from the intense sensation.

she then suddenly releases her hold on your mouth, replacing it with a firm grip on your chin. she forces your head to turn, making you look into the mirror. your reflection shows your flushed face, wide eyes, and trembling lips, with nakyoung’s strong fingers buried inside you.

nakyoung’s voice is a low purr in your ear, laced with a commanding edge. "look at yourself, baby. see how beautifully responsive you are? those cute little spasms when i touch you…" her finger curls slightly inside you, hitting a particularly sensitive spot.

she slowly adds two more fingers to your tight hole, scissoring them to stretch you even further. your scream of protest and pain is muffled by her hand covering your mouth once more. she holds you in place, her fingers pumping in and out of you in a ruthless, controlling rhythm.

in the mirror, you see nakyoung’s smirk spreading across her beautiful face, those full lips curling with satisfaction and something darker—pure, unadulterated desire. "you have no idea how long i've wanted to claim this tight cunt." she whispers, her eyes locked with yours in the reflection.

her fingers continue their dominating rhythm, each thrust deeper than the last. your eyes water, tears streaming down your cheeks as the burning stretch meets with electric sparks of pleasure that make your whole body tremble. small, desperate "mmph" sounds escape your covered mouth, muffled but filled with need and pain.

nakyoung’s smirk turns into a cruel, satisfied grin as she sees your tears and hears your muffled whimpers. she curls her fingers inside you, hitting that spot that makes you writhe and whine pitifully. "so pretty," she teases.

"crying and moaning like a little bitch in heat, even after you said you didn’t want it." her thumb presses down on your clit, adding a new wave of sensations that make your legs shake uncontrollably.

the combination of pain and pleasure is too much, and you start to sob, your body trembling violently as nakyoung’s fingers and thumb work their magic. your vision blurs, and you feel yourself on the verge of passing out from the overwhelming sensations. nakyoung’s grin widens, her fingers never slowing their relentless pace.

the sight of your tear-streaked face and trembling form in the mirror, combined with your desperate moans against her palm, is nearly enough to make nakyoung lose control. she can feel her own panties growing damp as she holds you steady, finger fucking you roughly.

with a final, brutal thrust of her fingers, nakyoung sends you careening over the edge. your body convulses violently, a loud, muffled scream of nakyoung’s name escaping you as you cum hard all over the practice room floor, your thighs shaking uncontrollably.

nakyoung’s fingers are coated in your release, and as she pulls them out, more of your essence drips down her hand. she looks up from your body, seeing your release splattered everywhere on the floor, and some even on the mirror.

with a wicked gleam in her eyes, nakyoung raises her glistening fingers to her mouth, locking eyes with your shocked reflection in the mirror. slowly, deliberately, she sucks each digit clean, her full lips wrapping around them as her tongue swirls to catch every last bit of your cum.

"mmm..." she hums in appreciation, her eyes fluttering closed briefly before snapping back open to meet your gaze in the mirror. "you taste fucking amazing. i bet i could get addicted to that taste."

after cleaning her fingers with a smirk, nakyoung stands up from the floor, smoothing out her clothes. "i gotta get going," she says, her voice back to its usual cool tone, as if the intense moment between you two never happened. "see you tomorrow.”

with that, she throws you your pants and heads for the door, not bothering to look back at you as she exits the practice room. you're left laying there, still trying to process what just happened.

nobody asked for this like gtfoooo 🙄🙄🙄 guys i promise im doing the noeul fic 💔

[zmbiesoph]

TENSION PT. 2

CARL GRIMES X FEM!READER

𝜗𝜚 A/N - lowkey improved in smut (guys don’t judge I guess I was feeling real freaky while writing this😭)

𝜗𝜚 SUMMARY - after you and Carl finally kiss, the tension just grows… and grows

𝜗𝜚 WARNINGS - smut, lowkey boob kink, use of Y/N, use of “good girl”, lowkey just kinky, unprotected p in v, kinda rough smut, rushed and fast paced writing, kinda detailed

Carl's hands roamed your body, one sliding up your back to tangle in your hair, the other gripping your hip possessively. You responded in kind, your fingers curling into his shirt, tugging him even closer. The kiss deepened, turning sloppy and desperate, tongues tangling, teeth clashing. The feverish need that had been simmering between you for so long finally boiled over, and you both surrendered to it fully.

Your hands slid under his shirt, feeling the hard planes of his abdomen, the defined muscles that spoke of his strength and agility. He groaned into your mouth as your nails lightly scraped his skin, arching into your touch. In return, he yanked the hem of your own top free from your pants, his hands sliding up your sides to cup your breasts through your bra.

You gasped at the sudden sensation, breaking the kiss to lean your head back against the wall. Carl took the opportunity to trail open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, down the column of your throat. His lips found a particularly sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder, and he sucked hard enough to leave a mark.

"Fuck," you breathed, fisting a hand in his hair. The pain-pleasure of his teeth and tongue sent sparks of heat straight to your core. You needed more. Needed to feel him everywhere.

Carl seemed to read your mind, his hands deftly unhooking your bra and pushing it up out of the way. Your nipples pebbled in the cool air, and he wasted no time in bending his head to capture one between his lips, swirling his tongue around the stiff peak.

You cried out, arching off the wall, pushing your breast further into his hot mouth. He obliged, sucking hard, before moving to lavish the same attention on the other side. Your hands scrabbled at his shoulders, trying to pull him impossibly closer.

When he finally released your nipple with a wet pop, you were panting harshly, eyes glazed with lust. Carl looked just as affected, his own pupils blown wide and dark, cheeks flushed with arousal. Without a word, he gripped your thighs and hoisted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. You automatically clung to him, arms around his neck and ankles locked at the small of his back.

He carried you over to a small table in the corner, sweeping the dust and debris onto the floor with one arm before setting you down on the rough wood. The change in position pressed his obvious arousal right against your clothed center, and you both groaned at the contact.

Carl captured your lips again in a searing kiss as his hands slid down your sides to the waistband of your pants. He paused, pulling back slightly to look at you, silently asking for permission. You nodded breathlessly, and that was all the encouragement he needed.

He popped the button on your fly and dragged the zipper down torturously slow. Hooking his fingers in the waistband of your pants and panties, he slowly peeled them down your legs along with your boots, leaving you bare before him. For a moment, he just drank in the sight of you, eyes smoldering with desire.

Then he was kissing you again, hard and hungry, his hands spreading your thighs wide as he stepped between them. His fingers found your slick folds, stroking through your arousal with deliberate slowness. You whimpered into his mouth, hips rocking forward into his touch.

"Fuck, you're so wet," he groaned, circling your clit with the pad of his thumb. "All for me."

"Yes," you panted, tilting your hips to give him better access. "Only for you."

Carl smirked at that, two fingers plunging deep into your tight heat without warning. You cried out at the sudden fullness, inner muscles clenching around the welcome intrusion. He pumped his fingers in and out at a relentless pace, curling them to hit that perfect spot inside you with each thrust.

The table creaked beneath you with every snap of his hips, the lewd sounds of your wetness mixing with your escalating moans. Your orgasm built quickly, your walls starting to flutter around his pistoning digits.

"That's it," Carl rasped, thumb flicking over your clit in time with his thrusts. "Come for me. Let me feel you."

His words were all it took to send you careening over the edge. You came with a loud cry, body shaking and hips jerking erratically as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over you. Carl didn't stop, fucking you through it with those relentless fingers until you were boneless and gasping.

When you finally came down, Carl was watching you with a look of pure male satisfaction. He withdrew his fingers slowly, bringing them to his mouth to taste your essence. His low moan sent a fresh shiver down your spine.

"You taste fucking incredible," he said hoarsely, licking his lips. "But I'm not done with you yet."

A fresh rush of arousal flooded your core at his words, but Carl wasn't done proving his point. In one smooth motion, he undid his own pants and shoved them down just enough to free his straining erection.

You widened your eyes at the impressive sight. Large and thick, flushed red and leaking pre-cum from the tip. Carl caught your gaze and smirked knowingly before lining himself up with your entrance.

"Brace yourself," he said warningsly. Then he thrust forward in one powerful surge of his hips.

You both groaned as he filled you completely, your walls stretching deliciously around his thick length. He paused for a moment, letting you adjust to the sudden fullness. When you nodded that you were ready, he pulled out slowly before snapping back inside.

The table rattled with the force of his thrusts, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the small cabin. Carl gripped your hips hard enough to bruise, using his hold to pull you into every snap of his hips. You clutched at his shoulders for dear life, meeting him thrust for thrust.

"Fuck," Carl grunted above you, sweat beading on his forehead. "So goddamn tight. Feels like you were made for me."

"Just like that," you gasped out, nails digging into his back. "Don't stop."

Carl responded by angling his hips to hit that special spot inside you with each thrust. Your head thrashed against the table as your pleasure built again rapidly, so intense it bordered on painful.

"So close," you panted, feeling the telltale tightening in your lower belly. "Gonna come again."

"Yes," Carl hissed through clenched teeth, gripping your hips harder as his thrusts turned erratic. "Do it. Come on my cock like a good girl."

His dirty words pushed you over, your orgasm hitting you like a freight train. You screamed your release, vision whiting out as ecstasy consumed you. Distantly, you felt Carl's rhythm falter before he was coming too, spurting hot and deep inside you with a hoarse shout.

He collapsed on top of you after, both of you sweaty and panting, still intimately joined. For a few moments, there was only the sound of your breathing evening out as you came down from your highs.

Then Carl pulled back slightly to look at you, a lazy smirk on his face. "So," he said, brushing damp hair from your forehead. "That was... something else."

You huffed a laugh, still floating in the afterglow. "Definitely something else."

He kissed you then, sweet and slow, all traces of the earlier animosity gone. There was just this new connection between you now, electric and thrilling and oh-so-right.

When he finally pulled away, he nuzzled into your neck with a contented sigh. "We should probably get dressed before someone comes looking for us."

You made a noise of agreement but didn't move, just enjoying the feeling of him still half-hard inside you. In this moment, everything else could wait - the walkers outside, the prison, all of it. Right now, it was just you and Carl, finally giving in to what they both wanted.

And you knew, without a doubt, it was only the beginning.

@hiro--aoki @carlsangel @acid9786 @bethberry

[idiosyncraticrednebula]

I hate how now every time a discourse is being had about classic Disney movies, the godawful remakes (or retellings) have to be included in the conversation. It's no longer just the animated movie that is adressed. You can't discuss Aladdin without its 2019 remake, Sleeping Beauty without its 2014 remake, The Little Mermaid without its 2023 remake, Beauty and the Beast without its 2017 remake, The Lion King without its 2019 remake, Mulan without its 2020 remake, etc, etc, etc. I hate how they will be forever attached to these classic movies. It actually pisses me off to no avail.

[ihavebeesinmybrain]

haven’t been able to stop thinking about anna garcia as zeke aaron mckinley since the day the episode came out when i watched it immediately. it is. the performance of a lifetime. there was simply no reason for her to absolutely crush that the way that she did. but anna garcia absolutely bodied the role of fourth grade boy made of rocks. the mannerisms? the speech patterns? the sense of humor? the VOICE??? like it’s actually disturbing that an adult can seem that much like a child if you just cover their whole body in rocks. i’ve been losing my mind about his three wishes. those were his biggest priorities, in that order: giant butterfinger, brother home (from war????), BE ROCKS??????? so absolutely insane in the exact way a real life fourth grade boy would be. magnificent. i could not have fewer notes