#that can't be severed or else he's super dead :(

[ckret2]

I just wanted to say that I have been loving the Akuposting that has been happening as of late. The vibes that evil tree gives off are immaculate and so are the considerations you give his character. Consider this an open invitation to share any more random bits you might want to on him and Scaramouche/Mojo/the PPGs/anybody else you like!

I got this ask while I was working on the big art post for the kage and hikaru au, but saved this for a separate post just so i could post even more, different headcanons lmao.

I'll fling out several headcanons but I'm gonna put them all in separate posts so that it's not one super long post on a dozen topics again. because i crave peer validation and maybe if they're several shorter posts more people will comment lmao. The others will be posted not long after this one.

for this post I'm giving you some thoughts about scaramouche's & aku's musical tastes. I'm sticking it under a read more but first, ✨a request for help from y'all✨:

Are any of y'all fans of free jazz/avant garde jazz/experimental jazz? Do you have any recommendations for a newbie just stepping into the genre? Preferably ones that highlight the flute? Thanks gang.

Okay so Scaramouche's flute playing & singing is pure improv; if he's got any specific musical style, it's some kind of jazz. But we never hear him performing, like... normal music.

Two possibilities: either his magic to works by hitting certain notes or intervals, so he's just trying to make the necessary sounds, not play "music"; or, you need to be so far down on the jazz music iceberg you can't even see sunlight through the water before you hit the kind of avant garde shit Scaramouche is into.

Logically, I think the first option makes a little more sense; but personally, I like making in-character "what would they like to listen to" music playlists, which means I need to have a canon basis for the character's musical tastes; so I'm rolling with "he's into experimental jazz."

(The problem is I've dug into jazz for a prior character, but it was pre-WW2 jazz & swing. Like, "We'll Meet Again is way too late for the kind of jazz we're talking about" jazz. For Scaramouche I need "We'll Meet Again is way too early for the kind of jazz we're talking about" jazz. Whiiiiich is why I'm asking for recommendations lmao.)

The group of bots Scaramouche has jam sessions with are playing jazz so free that if a recognizable melody ever dared walked into the club, they would shoot it dead on sight. Their jazz is so avant garde that should the uninitiated ever hear them play, they'd think "oh wow that's what happens when you hand robots instruments, they don't understand music at all." No. Those robots understand music better than you or I ever will. The most elite of jazz snobs walks into that club, hears them play, and begins weeping at the beauty. It's exquisite. If you're into that kind of thing.

"Okay but the ask was for headcanons about Aku, how is that relevant to Aku?" It's relevant for this reason:

Aku thinks that shit sucks balls.

Scaramouche keeps inviting Aku to listen to his band play (the band does NOT know this and would be TERRIFIED if their boss showed up), and Aku keeps turning him down, because He Does Not Want To Listen To That.

Scaramouche thinks Aku's taste in music also sucks but he's willing to give it a shot. Aku doesn't care about his opinion.

I already did a headcanon about Aku's music tastes but I'm expanding on it: we've established that he's into techno music; I asked around on reddit about what kind of genre they think the mind control rave music is, and their suggestion is psytrance, maybe forestpsy or darkpsy, so that's what I'm going with until I can really dig into the nitty-gritty on the different genres in that area.

I think he'd also be into traditional music, like, "so old the only two people on the planet who still remembers these songs are Aku and Jack" traditional music. Before I can give specifics on that I need to do some research on traditional Japanese music.

Did you know your brain is trained to understand/hear certain music as musical? If you haven't been trained on a kind of music (just,, listen to it a lot), it doesn't hit. It doesn't sound "good" because your brain doesn't know how to listen to it. It might not even sound like music to you. Anyway—all that is to say that my brain has been trained on Western music, which means I'm anticipating a lot of musical brain training & historical research before I can give any sort of nuanced opinions on traditional Japanese music beyond "that sure is traditional and Japanese all right." So I'm gonna leave that part of his tastes vague for now.

But one extra detail: I think Aku was born already knowing some songs, including some from hundreds or thousands of years before he was born. They were songs sung by mourners at the edge of the pit of hate whose loved ones had been consumed.

[mildarka]

Just want to say love your reverted au, but was that all 999 black apples, it also looked traped by postivy arrows. Is that why he doesn't remember anything or have a inventory as it's holding all is stuff and memories? Well anyway love this au, and please talk about it

Yep!

The memory stuff is from something else (all the gang has got pretty bad induced amnesia from Dream + co) but little Night got separated from the apples entirely as an extra precaution. i guess he'd be reverted but still goopy otherwise?? just shorter lmao??

but yeah, no corruption, no inventory. He's basically walking around soulless (but as far as he knows that's completely normal, what's everyone so weirded out about? what even is an inventory??) He can't be checked either but his stats are probably really fucked still. Strength-wise he's just a lil guy, he can't do much harm. He'd be like freakishly powerful if he was ticked off enough but he doesn't really have a way to channel that without the corruption

[chuluoyi]

my boyfriend will kick your ass !

- fushiguro megumi x reader

it's a date gone wrong when you get into an argument with your aloof boyfriend. but will he save you when it counts?

genre/warnings: tw. street harassment, catcalling. hurt/comfort, arguments and reconciliation, protective!megumi and fluff !

note: i miss my emo boi :(

general masterlist

“Stay back!”

This is an utter plot twist. When you came out of your apartment today, all dolled up and ready to go on a date with your boyfriend, you never imagined you’d end up cornered by two creeps in a deserted alley.

“Easy, girl,” one of the guys in front of you cackled, lips curling into an unsettling sneer. “We’re just trying to get to know you better!”

“Listen— My boyfriend is super scary, you know!” you barked, willing yourself not to shake. “Now you better not come any closer or else—!”

“Or else what?” the other creep mocked with a snort. You gripped your umbrella—now your makeshift weapon—tightly, pointing it at him as a threat.

“Or else my boyfriend will be here in any minute and he’ll kick your ass!”

It was a partly a lie you hoped sounded convincing, because how could Megumi suddenly show up and find you in this dingy alleyway... right after both of you had a petty disagreement in the middle of Shibuya's shopping district?

Oh lord, how you regretted raising your voice and running away from him earlier.

"You are late!" you scolded him heatedly as he yawned, showing up twenty minutes later than your agreed time. "Can't you at least text me beforehand? I'll match your time if you do!"

Megumi sighed, fixing you with a blank stare as he scratched his head. "My bad. I overslept. I rushed here so didn't think of it."

It was so easy for him to say, and you would've understood if it was the first time, but you had noticed this pattern over the past two weeks. Whenever you asked him out for dates, his face always soured, and he didn't bother to be on time. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was reluctantly agreeing.

And by this point, you thought you knew better and that was really it.

Finally, you blurted out the burning accusation: "You never realize it, but it shows, you know? You never seem happy when we go out together."

He exhaled in exasperation, green eyes darkening at you. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly that."

It seemed he had run out of patience. Standing your ground, you braced for his next words. But the glare he sent your way and the words he spat pierced your tender heart more than you thought—

"You're always nagging. Can't you stop being annoying just once? What a pain."

Perhaps he was right, you were annoying him all this time and dealing with you was a pain. You could imagine it if you were in his place, but you couldn't handle the very implication that you had done so, and you screamed at his face:

"So be it then! Fushiguro, you are the worst!"

—and ran off with tears in your eyes, deserting him altogether.

You knew you weren’t exactly a model of maturity, but in your defense, it stung deeply that he saw you as annoying and a pain. What girlfriend wouldn’t be hurt by that?

Anyhow, you loitered near the Shibuya station afterwards, and at first you heard some catcalls you didn't really pay mind to. But when those two guys started whistling and edging closer, it hit you—you were their target.

You quickened your pace, turning down several corners, only to find yourself trapped in a dead end. Just how much worse could your day get?

"Aha, the girl says she has a boyfriend!" Creep #1 snickered, turning to Creep #2 with a smirk, before pretending to scan the area. "But I don’t see him?"

"Miss, I swear we’re not up to any trouble," Creep #2 chimed in, his eyes gleaming with a predatory delight. "Won’t you be our friend? You’re too pretty to be alone—this is Shibuya, after all!" he said, eyeing your legs and whistled. "And ooh, have I told you that skirt suits you well?"

These guys were straight-up perverts!

"Get lost!" you yelled, your fingers trembling as you swung the umbrella at him when he tried to close the distance. "Can’t you just leave me alone?!"

You were at your wits' end, and it was clear this situation wasn’t going to improve with them still blocking your way. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart, and decided to do the only thing you could.

In hindsight, a stupid move—

You barreled towards the two of them with your umbrella—managing to push past them. For a moment, you thought you had a chance and ran as fast as you could—

"Ack!" —until you tripped and crashed on the ground.

You rose and immediately winced, looking down at the site where it hurt the most. Oh, you had scrapped your knees badly.

"Ahh, miss! Don't be too hasty~!" you heard the second guy's sing-song voice, and you really wanted to cry. Why did this have to happen to you?

"Don't come c-closer!" you stammered, backing away as they approached. Your whole body shook, desperately trying to think of ways to save yourself. "Or— I'll scream!"

"Whoa, whoa, wait just a minute! Why don't you just—"

You really thought you would scream, until suddenly the familiar scent of mint filled your sense and a strong arm pulled you from behind, and a broad back shielded your view from them—

"What do you need from her?" Megumi's voice boomed, his eyes glaring at the two men who had been harassing you. His breathing was ragged, as if he had run all the way here. "Fuck off."

At that moment, you couldn't help clutching his sleeve, hiding behind him further as you kept trembling. Megumi sensed it, and turned over to have a look over you—

You looked disheveled, spooked, and his eyes widened when he saw the blood trailing down both of your knees.

"Hey man, your girlfriend practically asked for it! Just look how she is dressed—"

Before you could process what was happening, Megumi had yanked the man by his collar and thrown a punch at him. You yelped and immediately got a hold of his arm to stop him further. "Megumi!"

The other guy quickly caught his friend, who spat out a string of curses, his lips bloodied from the punch.

"Fuck. Off." Megumi glowered at them, and they finally got the message, scurrying away in hurry. The moment they did, he faced you again and you finally let out a sob, throwing yourself into him. His body was warm, his heart pounding hard— yet it meant reassurance for you.

"Are you okay...?" his voice was noticeably softer as he wrapped his arms around you and returned the hug. "Did they touch you—?"

Megumi froze when he felt his chest dampen with your tears and heard your sniffles, your figure shaking like a leaf in his embrace. A wave of guilt washed over him, realizing how scared you must have been. Instinctively, he held you tighter.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry," he muttered, his breath warm against your ear. It was as if there was an invincible knife that twisted his chest when it dawned on him what you just got into. "I'm here now, okay? You're safe now."

If it weren’t for his harsh words earlier, you wouldn’t have run off. He kept shushing you, his own heart breaking at the turn of events.

And when you nodded against him, he knew he had to make it up to you somehow.

Later, Megumi tended to your minor injury while crouching down before you, as you sat on a bench near the convenience store where he had picked up the first aid kit.

Your eyes were swollen, your outfit was dirtied, but you ignored the curious looks from passersby. Still shaken, you kept your gaze fixed on your lap.

You recoiled when the disinfectant touched your torn skin, tears welling up again in your eyes. "Ow..."

"It'll hurt just a bit," Megumi looked up at you worriedly, seeing you struggling to hold back tears. He gently blew air on your wound. "It’ll be over soon."

Megumi noticed how you were uncharacteristically quiet. Between the two of you, you were the chatty one and he was the silent listener. But now, you were completely silent, and he knew it was definitely not a good sign.

And so he thought it was a good time to finally explain himself. With a sigh, he began. "I... was on back-to-back missions last week."

You glanced at him, both surprised and confused.

“I was so burnt out— that’s why I’ve been oversleeping lately. Sorry for not meeting you on time.” Megumi applied the ointment to your knees, and you stiffened from the sting. He blew air on them again to ease the discomfort.

"You never told me," you pointed out.

“Yeah, uh, sorry...” he winced. “It’s so... lame. I’ve been exhausted for a week straight whereas Itadori bounces back so easily. Stupid, I know.”

"You... didn't tell me because you don't want to look uncool?"

As soon as you worded it that way, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Megumi remained silent, looking down, and you knew that his silence was a definite yes.

Totally stupid. But exactly how Fushiguro Megumi was always wired. A part of you was exasperated, but also forgave him for it.

When he met your gaze again, he finally saw the light returning to your eyes. It was a relief to him, so he let out a small sigh and put on a strained smile.

"How did you find me anyway?" you asked quietly.

"You didn't pick up my calls. I was worried. And then I ran around until I heard your voice." His eyes narrowed into a frown. "Did they do anything to you?"

You shook your head, and Megumi let out the breath he had been holding, gripping your right hand in his. "I’m glad."

You brushed away the trace of tears on your cheeks as he finished applying band-aids to your knees, awkwardly fiddling with your fingers.

"Sorry for being annoying," you mumbled softly, not meeting his eyes, feeling yourself so small all of a sudden. "Will totally happen again though."

"You..." Unwittingly, he cracked a smile at your blatant remark. "Just... don’t run off again, dummy. Do it where I can see you."

He ruffled your hair gently, then intertwined your fingers with his. "And sorry... for getting mad at you too."

Your cheeks felt warm, so you looked away, puckering your lips together. "...I'm hurt. You have to make it up to me."

He hummed, the beginnings of a smile on his face. "Let's go have that shaved ice you’ve been craving then."

“Huh? You remembered! But you don’t like them?”

“You like that kind of sugar dump, don’t you?”

Hand-in-hand, both of you traversed the Shibuya shopping district together. Your eyes were still puffy, but you were smiling and talking his ears off again just like you always did.

“I told those pricks my boyfriend will definitely kick their asses,” you giggled to yourself, swinging your joined hands in joy. “And you really did~”

“What are you talking about…?”

Sometimes you were beyond his comprehension. Sometimes you were also cute beyond comparison.

And Megumi thought... he liked you the best this way.

[specialgradefckr]

Cutest Girl Alive~

tw: explicit content. brat!reader, gojo is not a brat tamer he is a brat enjoyer, hate sex vibes, very very tsundere!reader, gojo is hilariously oblivious about how annoying he is, reader is kinda mean (not without reason...)

satoru gojo who just doesn't know what your problem is.

he really doesn't! suguru doesn't believe him, of course, but it's true - he didn't do anything. at least not anything that would warrant you asking if his "inbred, illiterate ass is too important to file a report".

ichiji said it was just because his paper backlog made things difficult for everybody. but the inbreeding comment was uncalled for!

his mom is super hot, though. he told you as much, and offered to set up a date, just in case you swung the other way.

unfortunately, the only thing that swung was your hand against his face, which didn't make contact, but it still hurt his feelings!

(you'd looked him dead in the eye. "good." walked away.)

and that wasn't just an isolated incident!

he'd caught you at the vending machine, bent over. satoru had politely refrained from slapping your ass and loudly announced how hot it was.

perfect gentleman!

whereupon you had turned around, smiling tightly, and offered him the soda.

"see," he teased, cracking it open, "i knew you could be nice if-"

the soda sprayed all over his face. your smile looked a little looser, a little realer, and your laugh - while awful and wicked - had been terribly adorable.

when he started to laugh with you, though, you just glared. rolled your eyes, and walked off in the middle of the conversation.

and just. random moments! your face falls into an admittedly cute pout (suguru says it's a grimace) whenever he walks into the room.

"how's your day been?"

"good, until you got here."

like, he's not crazy here. you're just being mean.

honestly, it's kind of funny. or it would be funny, if it didn't kind of hurt a little.

suguru doesn't get the same kind of response. when he begs, pleads, and bribes suguru into asking you what you don't like about him -

"if i had to say... everything."

whereupon suguru had burst out laughing.

mean!

but that's the thing, though. you were nice to suguru, to everyone else.

you're not a bitch. you're a bitch to him.

he's special.

you don't treat anybody else like this.

why is that, satoru ponders. why do you especially dislike him?

suguru says it's his shitty personality. joke's on suguru because his best friend has been some guy with a shitty personality for about a decade now! loser.

anyways, he comes up with a plan. he texts you from another phone and number, something perfectly random and polite. a picture of a cat he found on the street.

(you love cats so you'll definitely respond. he knows because he's been popping in on you for several weeks now. it's not stalking because he doesn't follow you! and that was so rude of suguru to say!)

the conversation that follows is perfectly pleasant. sweet, even. he enjoys it, right up until -

mean girl <3: hey could you do me a huge favor actually? satoru gojo: anything 4 u kitten!! mean girl <3: kill yourself gojo

his number is blocked.

whoops. wow. do you have a built in satoru gojo detector or something? what is he missing? what gave him away???

suguru looks over the texts and just stares at him blankly at the question.

"well? what could have clued her in?"

"oh, god... satoru, if you can't tell, just forget about it. and stop trying to fool her."

he probably should. stop, that is.

he's not following you but he's definitely teleporting into places he knows you'll be. trying to run into you. constantly. daily. hourly, even.

he likes to stay updated on all your missions. your favorite restaurants. maybe he watches you a little.

there's just something that draws him in. your quick wits, your derision. the way you look at him with all that fire.

you want to laugh at him. he wants to laugh with you.

and yeah, he gets rock hard when you yell at him. he'd let you slap him but you don't bother trying anymore after hitting his infinity that one time. bummer.

it's a late summer evening - sun still up, orange on the horizon. he's stuck filling out reports, you're stuck grading papers.

in silence, as always. you'd never speak to him unless it was to insult him.

"hey," satoru says all the sudden, "you wanna fuck?"

the silence that fills the room is colder, harder -

"are you fucking serious?" insulted, outraged - that's about what he expected.

but... if he looks with the six eyes... if he glances at your sympathetic nervous system, if he squints really hard and swears three times over, maybe he can convince himself -

"you're not totally against the idea, are you?" he draws himself up from the table, smirking.

hooking a finger in his blindfold like he's trying to remind you just how long they are.

you stare at him.

"dead serious," he confirms, "right here right now. i can be fast."

"i don't doubt it." oooh, there's that bite again, "i doubt i'd enjoy it."

his smile bares teeth.

"wanna bet?"

and fuck, just look at you now. look at you!

with all six eyes he is. and satoru likes what he sees.

hunched over, teary eyed. face bright red. you used to scowl at him with that face, that pretty face, all hard lines and snarled lips -

and look at you now! so cute and precious and soft! so sweet he wants to take a bite out of you.

you even yelp, adorably, when he nips at the inside of your thigh. sensitive, twitchy.

he's dizzy with it. with the taste of you, of your cum. your high pitched little whimpers in his ears are still ringing in his ears, along with your mean retorts.

"where's your smart mouth now, baby?" he teases, lips glossy with your slick.

and god, it's even fucking hotter watching you try to glare while blushing and trembling and blinking away tears of overstimulation.

"sh-shut up and put your dick in me, gojo," you bite out, "if you even know how."

you jolt when he kisses your cunt, looking you in the eyes while he does it.

"awh, you poor thing," he cooes, crawling up your chest to go face-to-face, even as another hand goes to dig his cock out of his pants, "so impatient."

he can tell it riles you up. that you don't know what to do, trapped in his gaze.

"fuck off, gojo."

"i'll fuck you," he says with a snicker, kissing your throat. like he knows you won't let him kiss your lovely little pouty face.

how could he not have seen it before?

(well, he had his blindfold on for one. but the principle of you being unsettled by your attraction towards him still stands!)

he lines himself up, nice and easy. feels your unsteady hands reach, cling to his shoulders, and that's almost as hot.

you look down to avoid his gaze, but then your eyes widen at the sight of his cock. huge and pink and throbbing.

"yummy, right?" he croons, "you can have a taste after if you want. you're so sweet, you deserve a lick or two."

you make this sharp gasp, the most adorable, helpless noise, your whole body jerking as he plunges into you, and satoru nearly cums just from that.

cute. cute cute cute cute so fucking cute he's gonna go crazy.

he bites at the place your shoulder meets your neck just to sate himself. soft skin, tender flesh. salty and slick from sweat.

you melt in his mouth. around his dick. whimpering and sniffling and mewling little demands.

"get on with it, gojo, fuck, is this your first time - "

"first time fucking a cunt this wet?" he purrs between sucking marks on your neck, "yeah, baby. it's crazy, how much you want me."

"you went down on me for like," another high-pitched squeak as he nips your ear, "t-ten minutes, dumbass. of course i'm wet!"

your hands claw at him, trembling just like your voice.

he shoves himself in, all the way to the hilt, disintegrating any coherence you had left. all you can do is cry out, wailing when his long fingers brush over your poor, swollen, tender clit.

"awh, baby, you can take it," he croons. his heart does a little delighted flutter when he sees your (utterly kissable) lips purse in annoyance, only to fall apart again when he pumps back into you.

"run out of nasty things to say, huh, baby?" satoru swears he can feel your pretty little clit twitching and pulsing at his touch, just like his cock throbs inside you.

his eyes glitter as he thrusts in and out. god, your hot fucking body tensing and shuddering against him, the exhaustion warring with pleasure and aggravation on your face.

there's not a single part of you that isn't utterly fixated on him. in this moment he's the most important thing in your world.

and it's glorious. your cunt is clenching him like a vice, unraveling him almost as far as he's already unwound you. little moans spill from your mouth, music to his ears.

that face, god, that fucking gorgeous face that's always frowning at him. so pretty now.

"look at you," he pants, close so close, "god, you're - such a bitch all the time - you just needed a good fucking, huh?"

satoru snatches your face by the jaw, looking you straight in the eyes.

they're all wet and messy and a little bit red. he's so close he has to press hard, fast circles into your clit to get you closer, closer -

"f-fuck," you sob, "fuck, hngh, you-"

he licks your tears off your cheeks, "just needed some good cock, huh? that's all it takes to shut your mean little mouth?"

clawing at his back. he feels you squeezing him for all he's worth, milking him -

"fuck, i'm cumming," he groans, bursting hot and liquid in your tight cunt.

you gulp down heavy, airy breaths. delicate noises as you tremble in his arms.

fuck, you're so gorgeous. satoru lays you back, your lashes fluttering, face flushed, spread out on the desk all limp and exhausted.

his ravished beauty. his little spitfire.

"see," he cooes, cupping your cheek, "all sweet for me now that you're filled with my cum. see how nice it feels when you're good for me?"

your hands shoot up, slapping his hand away, covering your face.

"your mouth is literally only good for eating pussy."

he laughs, leaning in to hold you against him. "and yours is only good for talking shit."

"maybe if you weren't such an asshole you'd know better." you snap, pulling back, sliding him out of you with a little gasp that gets his cock twitching again.

he whines at the loss of you, "awh, come on, don't be like that."

you roll your eyes. it's pretty incredible how well you're composing yourself, fixing your clothes and hair. taking a deep breath as you pointedly ignore his pestering and prepare to leave.

his bitchy, pretty baby. so much less intimidating when he's seen you moaning and cumming in his mouth - but he thinks you're even more adorable now.

"i gave you more than your fair share of orgasms, didn't i? show me what else it's good for~" he sings, staring at you the whole time.

you ignore him until you're dressed again. glancing at him from the corner of your eye. turning away.

"...next week after class." you say, stopping just before you leave, "i don't like owing people."

"heh." satoru watches you dart out the door, shutting it briskly behind you, smiling to himself.

maybe you thought he couldn't see it - as if he isn't always watching your face - but just before you left, he could tell.

the faintest dusting of pink on your cheeks...

you really are the cutest girl alive, huh?

(megumi tells him to stop whistling that day - he doesn't stop for an entire week.)

[quitealotofsodapop]

Since Wukong thought that he killed Macaque in the Ghost Monkey au, I wonder how that conversation went between them?

Probably took them a long time to talk about it.

First time Macaque has been able to actually speak to Wukong was after LBD was released. Her tomb was like a powder keg of underworld magic; thinning the regions' veil between life and death.

Wukong has been convinced for centuries that he accidentally killed Macaque in their big fight all those years ago. Macaque has spent almost as long trying to send signals from the shadows that Wukong wasn't at fault.

Wukong's first reaction to seeing and hearing Macaque in the near-flesh is to well... run. Macaque (with help from the gang) has to chase the Monkey King down before they can properly reunite.

I can see their "proper" talk going something like this

Wukong: "Mihou... you don't understand. I killed you! I'm the reason you're like this!" Macaque, firm: "NO. You're not." Wukong, stunned: "Wha... what?" Macaque, tired sigh: "You didn't kill me that day. The last time we fought. I'm your Equal in Strength for a reason, peaches.... But we had many silent witnesses that day that saw me severely injured." Wukong, realising: "Someone... someone else did this to you!?! Who!?" Macaque, hesitating: "I can't tell you that, Wukong. Not now." Wukong, furiously worried: "Why not!?" Macaque: "If I did, I fear you'll suffer the same fate... Just know that I'm not actually dead-dead. I'm just... super-asleep for the moment." Wukong: "Can I wake you up?" Macaque: "I'm not sure how, Peaches. And with all the havoc the Lady Bone Demon is causing, I think it would be best to focus on dealing with her first. Can you promise me that?" Wukong: "Oh... ok. I promise." Macaque, quickly adding-on: "And try not to destroy all three realms once we circle back to this." Wukong, happy smile: "Anything for you, my plum." (*the orange monkey attempts to embrace his ghostly mate, only to find that their bodies pass through one another.*) Wukong, tearful laugh: "I want to hold you so bad." Macaque, sad smile: "Same. I've been trying everyday for years."

Macaque is smart not to reveal who "ghost-ified" him. If Wukong knew, he'd been smashing every door down in Heaven to demand his mate's body back. And thats a headache they don't need right now.

[fantastic-nonsense]

What do you think about that one meme or head cannon where people view and said that "Only a Kent family member can handle the gloominess of the Waynes". How true is this, and do you like it even if it's not true?

I've never heard it before, it's incredibly false, and I hate the concept. Who on earth is trying to tie the Bats and Supers so closely together that they ignore everyone else?

Bruce has a lot of friends who are not Clark. Whether he admits they are friends or not is a different problem, but there are several people in his life that love him, care for him, and consider him to be a good friend. Diana and Zatanna, for one. I could list off a whole set of others, too.

Dick is basically the entire heroing community's "I know a guy" guy. His best friends are canonically Donna Troy, Roy Harper, and Wally West (depending on the era). None of them are Kents.

Tim is practically incapable of going anywhere without making at least one friend, to the point where even when he was on his angsty unhinged loner quest to figure out if his dead dad was alive he walked away with an ex-enemy turned ally and a pack of new assassin friends. Even apart from the fact that the Core Four are a "matched set, do not separate" group, I swear to you all that if Sebastian Ives was still around and finally found out Tim was a vigilante they would be the thickest thieves you could ever imagine.

Damian is the most inexplicable "I know a guy" kid on the planet because he keeps unwillingly making friends everywhere he goes, and meanwhile Jon is exuberant and nice and geniunely outgoing and yet canonically has like four (4) friends, one of which is Damian. Who is it in peoples' minds that "can't handle" his "gloominess?"

I could keep going of course (Cass has several good non-Bat, non-Gothamite friends now and none of them are Supers. Jason...is a work in progress, but he also has friends who are not Supers. etc etc.). But listing out all of the close friends who love the Bats and are not affiliated with Superman would take a day and much longer than I want to spend on this ask.

tl;dr it's not true at all and I hate that anyone even thinks it is.

[fatecantstopme]

That’s Not What I See

Pairing: Elliot Stabler x Plus Size!Reader

Summary: You're a crime analyst on the Manhattan SVU squad. You've been attracted to Elliot Stabler since you first met him, but you knew there was no way he'd be into you. Men who looked like him never were...at least that's what you thought.

Warnings: Use of pet names. Cursing. Mentions of self-esteem issues. SMUT, praise kink, oral (F receiving), multiple orgasm, unprotected sex (P in V)

You walked into the office gym at 5am, thinking there wouldn't be anyone else there. You hated working out, especially in front of other people. Normally, you used the gym in your apartment building, but it was under construction, so you decided to sneak into the office early.

You'd thrown on leggings and a slightly too small t-shirt, and you were tugging on the shirt uncomfortably as you walked into the gym. You just wanted to get on the treadmill for an hour, but your plans were interrupted when you heard soft grunts coming from across the room.

You froze, hoping whoever it was wouldn't notice you. You moved towards the treadmill quietly, using it as a shield so you could see who was in the room without them seeing you.

From your angle, all you could see was a man's legs on the weight bench across the room. He was laying down and preparing for another rep. When his arms came into view, you let out an involuntary gasp. The Marine Corps tattoo on his right arm was a dead giveaway...it was Elliot Stabler.

He racked the weight bar and sat up, eyes looking in your direction. You knew he couldn't see you, but he must have heard your gasp. Shit, you thought to yourself.

"Hello?" he called.

You decided it would be weird if you didn't respond, so you stepped out from behind the treadmill and gave him a little awkward wave. "Good morning."

He smiled warmly when you came into view. "Morning, (Y/N)."

You could feel his eyes on you, boring holes into your skin, and you tugged on your shirt again. You suddenly wished you'd worn something a little looser, but you hadn't expected to see anyone, least of all him.

"Since when do you come to the gym before dawn?" he asked as he stood up and started walking towards you.

"I--uh--I...normally I don't--umm, I use the gym at home. It's being renovated."

"I see." He stopped right in front of you, giving you an up close and personal view of his beautiful body. Every inch of him was toned, muscles flexing under his skin. "I kinda like having the company."

You let out an awkward chuckle. "I was just gonna...umm--use the treadmill?"

He smiled again and your heart nearly stopped in your chest. "Go for it, doll. You don't need my permission."

You grabbed onto the arm of the treadmill to keep you upright--the term of endearment making your knees buckle. "Yeah," you mumbled.

"Let me know if you need anything." With that, he walked back over to the weight rack to finish his reps.

You were about 5 minutes away from having a full blown heart attack, but it would be super awkward if you left the gym now. So you climbed onto the treadmill and started walking at a steady pace. You did your best to keep your eyes forward, but you could feel Elliot looking at you every time he sat up.

After several minutes, he stood up and came across the room towards you. "Mind if I--?" he asked, gesturing to the machine beside you.

"Oh--uhh, sure," you stammered.

He smiled and got onto the elliptical.

You'd been sucking in your stomach as much as possible since the moment he noticed you...it was restricting your ability to breathe properly, but you didn't care. Standing next to a man who looked that good made you feel incredibly uncomfortable, frumpy even.

"How you liking SVU so far?"

Fuck, now he's gonna ask me questions? I already can't breathe. "I like it, but it's not easy work."

He nodded. "No it's not, but it's rewarding."

"Mhmm," you hummed.

"You're the first crime analyst we've ever had on the squad."

"I know," you said quickly. "I hope I'm adding value."

"You add a lot of value, both to the work we do and to the general morale of the squad."

"Oh," you said in surprise. "I, uhh, I appreciate that."

He chuckled lightly. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," you said tentatively.

"Do I make you uncomfortable?"

"What?" you asked in genuine surprise. "Why would you think that?"

"Well...you don't make eye contact with me very often and you stutter a lot when you talk to me--like you're flustered."

"I promise, it's not because you make me uncomfortable." It's because every time I see you, I want you to rip my clothes off and bend me over your desk.

You could feel his eyes on you, almost like he was scanning you--trying to decide if you were being honest. You didn't dare turn your head, you'd either fall on your face or reveal the thoughts in your head.

"Okay, good. I just wanted to make sure," he said with a smile. "I like you, (Y/N)...I don't wanna make you uncomfortable."

That tiny naive voice in the back of your mind squealed he likes me! but the more logical part of your brain ignored it. A man that looked like that was not interested in a woman who looked like you.

"I appreciate that," you mumbled. You'd only been on the treadmill for 40 minutes, but you decided that was more than enough. You wanted to get the hell outta there. You hit 'stop' on the machine and hopped off. "I'm gonna hit the shower. See you in the squad room."

"Okay. See you there."

20 minutes later, you were seated comfortably at your desk, going over some reports you needed to write.

You felt Elliot's presence before you saw him, and you did your best to act nonchalant. He walked up to the desk across from yours and leaned against it. He'd clearly showered and was now dressed in his usual slacks and a button down, sleeves rolled up to reveal his toned forearms and his tattoo.

"You smell really good," he commented. "Body wash or perfume?"

"Oh, uhh--maybe both?" It better be that damn perfume. It was expensive.

He smiled. "Well if it's the perfume, I'd recommend wearing it more often. It smells delicious." He shot you a wink before walking over to his own desk and sitting down.

You couldn't help but wonder if this man knew the effect he had on you and if that was why he was flirting with you. Was he even flirting? Hell, you had no idea. The hotter the man, the more awkward you became. You had a hell of a time reading them and it had messed you up in the past.

It's not that you had low self-esteem necessarily, it's just that you'd put on a fair amount of weight in the last couple years and it definitely affected your self-confidence. Hence why you'd started going to the gym every day...you wanted to get that young, happy, thinner version of you back.

As the day progressed, you forgot all about your encounter with Elliot that morning. It was a busy day and it flew by. Before you knew it, it was after 7pm and you were still curled up at your desk, typing away on your computer.

You heard a throat clear to your left and you turned to glare at whomever it was that dared to interrupt you. "Oh, Elliot!" you exclaimed in surprise. "I figured you'd gone home by now."

"I thought you would have too," he said with a shrug. "I'm actually just heading out now, but I wanted to see if you were hungry."

At that exact moment, your stomach let out a little grumble. You realized you'd worked straight through lunch and you were starving. "I could eat."

He raised an eyebrow. "You didn't eat lunch, so I'm betting you're starving."

He was paying that much attention? "Yeah, you're right. It's probably time to get the hell outta here anyway."

"My thoughts exactly. Come on, I'll take you home. We can get dinner on the way--my treat."

You normally took the subway, but it was after dark and the squad didn't like you walking home or riding the subway alone. "Oh, you don't have to do that."

"It's not a chore, (Y/N). We can stop anywhere you'd like."

You bit your lip as you thought about it. You really should turn him down, but if you'd learned anything in your time with SVU, it was that being a woman in New York was dangerous enough without walking alone at night.

"There's a little pizza shop by my apartment," you conceded.

He grinned. "How'd you know I was thinking pizza?"

You laughed. "You eat it all the time...you must think pizza is a vegetable."

He laughed. "It's delicious. Grab your coat."

You hurried to pack up, then you threw on your coat and followed him out to his car. It was a chilly night, but the sky was clear and the air was crisp.

Elliot made small talk on the way to the pizza place. You were thankful that he carried the majority of the conversation and you couldn't wait to have food to occupy your mouth with so you wouldn't sound like such an idiot.

"I don't think I've ever been here," he commented as he found a parking spot near the shop.

"It's the absolute best," you insisted enthusiastically.

He smiled at your animation. "This is the most excited I've ever seen you."

You blushed. "I like food."

"So do I...and I'm starving, so let's go in."

As soon as you walked in the door, you heard a thick Italian accent yell your name. "(Y/N)! Looking beautiful as ever."

You smiled at the older man, embracing him when he came around the counter for a hug. "You're too sweet, Gio."

After he released you from the bear hug, he turned to look at Elliot, clearly sizing him up. "Who is this?"

"This is Elliot. We work together," you said reassuringly. "Elliot, this is Giovanni Romano, owner and chef extraordinaire."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Elliot said as he extended his hand for a shake.

Gio looked him up and down, and apparently decided he liked him because he smiled really wide and said, "No handshakes! We hug here," before wrapping a surprised Elliot into a hug.

You laughed at the look on Elliot's face. Gio finally let him go and Elliot looked relieved, if not a little shocked.

"Maria!" Gio yelled towards the back. "La principessa is here with il innamorato."

You turned red as a tomato and prayed Elliot didn't speak Italian. "Gio!" you hissed.

"My principessa?" Maria yelled as she came out of the kitchen. She bustled over to where you were still standing by the door.

"She's Gio's wife," you whispered to Elliot a millisecond before she grabbed you in a tight hug.

She then turned her attention to Elliot. She nodded approvingly and turned to whisper to you, "Lui è bello."

You blushed again. "Sì," you mumbled back. "Now silenzio, per favore."

She smiled at you and gave your cheek an affectionate tap. "What can we get the two of you, amorino?"

You smiled. "Two of your best pies, Maria." You turned to Elliot, realizing he might not want you to order for him. "If that's okay with you."

He smiled. "I trust you."

"Two pies coming up!" Maria said with a smile. She grabbed Gio and practically dragged him towards the kitchen with her. You could hear her talking about Elliot and you in Italian and it made you laugh.

Elliot followed you to a table near the back of the small building. "So, uh...you come here often?"

You blushed. "Nearly every day when I was in school," you said honestly. "The food is delicious, cheap, and there's free WIFI. Plus, Gio and Maria have become like family to me."

"They seem really sweet."

You smiled fondly. "They're the best. I don't have any family of my own, but they both kinda took me under their wings...like an Aunt and Uncle."

"That's very kind of them."

Gio appeared with two waters, before he disappeared again with a wink in your direction.

"I didn't know you spoke Italian."

"Oh, uh, yeah. Gio and Maria taught me. I ended up minoring in Italian at NYU."

"So, uh...what did they say about me?"

"Hmmm?" you pretended not to know what he was talking about...you really didn't want to answer him.

"Come on, I know they were talking about me."

"Maria said you were handsome, that's all."

He raised his eyebrow. "Why don't I believe you?"

"She did!" you insisted.

"I don't think that's the only thing she said."

You blushed.

"You're blushing."

"It's warm in here."

"No, it's not. Just tell me what she said."

You bit your lip. "Do I have to?"

He laughed. "No, but I'd really like to know."

"Technically that's all Maria said. Gio, on the other hand...well, he called you my um...well in Italian it means 'lover', but you can think of it more like boyfriend, I guess? Or maybe more like sweetheart?" you rambled.

Elliot laughed heartily. He enjoyed watching you fumble for what to say. It was endearing and incredibly cute. "I hope you didn't correct them."

You nearly spit out your water. "What?"

"Well, if you're as close to them as you seem to be...then they would know if you were seeing someone right?"

You nodded.

"And their assumption that I'm your lover means you're not seeing anyone?"

You nodded again, clearly uncomfortable.

"Good."

"Good?"

"Yeah," he said with a smile. "Good." He picked up his water and took a long drink, eyes never leaving yours.

What the actual fuck is happening? "I'm confused."

He shrugged. "Let me put it this way, I'm honored they would think I'm your lover."

You choked on nothing but air. "Excuse me?"

He smiled again, wider than before. He leaned in closer to make sure no one but you could hear his next words. "I'd be lying if I said I haven't thought about it."

Your jaw nearly hit the floor. You stared at him in shocked silence for what felt like an eternity.

Like a little Italian savior, Maria appeared beside the table with her famous focaccia.

You grabbed a piece of the delicious bread and took a massive bite, despite the fact that it was fresh from the oven. It burned your mouth, but you didn't care. You needed something to distract you from the words Elliot had just said and the way he was staring at you.

Maria gave you look that said slow down, but she didn't say it out loud. "The rest will be out soon, amorino."

Once Maria was out of ear shot, Elliot asked, "What does amorino mean?"

"Essentially 'little love'. It's a term of endearment," you answered, grateful for the change in topic.

Elliot steered the conversation in other directions for the rest of dinner. He asked you all sorts of questions about your life and answered several of your own. He didn't mention what he'd said earlier, and you were fine pretending it hadn't happened.

After dinner, Elliot insisted on paying the bill, even though Gio tried to comp it. You knew it made Elliot look respectable in Gio's eyes and for some reason, that made you proud.

"I'll pull the car up," Elliot told you before heading outside.

"He's lovely, principessa," Gio said softly.

"I know, but he's just a friend, Gio."

"Ahh, amorino, you are young! You cannot see," he insisted.

"Can't see what?"

"The way he looks at you, (Y/N/N)," Maria said gently as she joined the two of you.

"Like you hung the moon," Gio finished.

"You two are romantics," you said with a laugh.

"Perhaps, but we are old...we've lived. We both know what it means when a man looks at a woman the way Elliot looks at you," Maria assured you.

She wrapped you in a tight hug and Gio followed.

"Now go, principessa," Maria said with a smile. "He's waiting."

You turned to look out the door and sure enough, Elliot was standing on the sidewalk, leaning against the car, waiting for you to come outside.

You said your goodbyes and met Elliot out on the sidewalk. "Fancy meeting you here," you teased.

He smiled. "It's almost like I planned it that way."

You laughed and walked towards the now open passenger side door. Elliot helped you into the car and closed the door before going to his side and getting in.

During the short drive to your apartment, you watched Elliot out of the corner of your eye. You were looking for whatever it was that Gio and Maria insisted they saw. He was relaxed, more so than he ever was at work, and he seemed genuinely comfortable. But comfort and desire were two very different things.

Much sooner than you would have liked, Elliot pulled up in front of your building. This time of night, there wasn't much by way of street parking, but he managed to snag a spot a block away. "I'll walk you in."

"You don't have to," you assured him.

"It's after 9...there are pervs on the street."

You almost laughed, but you knew he was serious. His statement wasn't funny, so much as the way he said it. "Alright, come on."

He followed you to the front door of your building. You punched in the code and the door unlocked. As you pulled it open, you had a sudden burst of confidence.

"Would you like to come up?" you blurted.

You weren't sure who was more surprised, you or Elliot. He certainly recovered faster than you. "I'd love to."

You just nodded awkwardly and held the door for him to follow you in. The two of you took the stairs in silence, a silence that continued all the way to your door. "This is me," you mumbled.

You unlocked the door without looking at him and gestured for him to enter. You were thankful you'd cleaned the apartment the day before, so everything was neat and organized.

"It's a cute place," he commented.

"Thanks," you moved to the kitchen, needing something to do with your hands. "It's all I can afford. Do you--uh, do you want a drink?"

"Sure," he said warmly as he slipped his coat off and draped it over the back of the chair.

You poured him a drink and poured yourself a double. Lord knew you needed a little more liquid courage than he did. You were taking a risk--making a gamble you weren't sure would pay off.

You came into the living room and handed him his drink before sitting on the couch beside him. You left space between you, just in case he wanted there to be some.

You were drinking your beverage a little faster than you should have and he noticed. "You alright?"

"Mhmm," you hummed.

"Is this about what I said at the restaurant?"

"Umm--uhh--"

"Because I didn't mean to offend you or make you uncomfortable."

"You didn't," you said quickly. It had made you uncomfortable, but not in the way he was thinking.

"Okay, good." He took a sip of his drink. "Because I meant it."

You exhaled sharply and he turned to look at you.

He sat his glass down on the coffee table and scooted closer to you. "I think about it all the time, (Y/N). I think about you all the time. It's almost annoying--you occupy my thoughts all day every day and I don't know how to deal with it. You make me feel like a teenager again."

You didn't know what to say. You'd dreamed of this happening, but you never actually thought it would. Now that you were sitting in this position, you had no idea what to do.

"I know I'm older than you--hell, I might be too old for you, but I can't help the way I feel. I'll never bring it up again if that's what you want, but I wanted to tell you the truth."

"You're not too old for me," you said quickly.

"How old are you?"

"30."

"Oh," he seemed almost relieved. "I thought you were younger than that...I actually feel better."

You laughed lightly. "10 years isn't all that much."

He shook his head. "Not at our ages."

You fell silent again, unsure what to say next. You finished your drink, then set it on the coffee table beside his. "Why me?"

He looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"Why would you want me?"

"Because you're incredible?"

You rolled your eyes. "Elliot, come on. Look at us."

"I don't understand."

You sighed, feeling reluctant to answer. "Look at you. Hot, muscular, in incredible shape. Then look at me. I'm none of those things--I'm overweight, frumpy, and average at best."

He stared at you in silence for a long moment, shock evident in his features. "While I appreciate the compliments, doll, that's not what I see when I look at you."

You almost didn't want to ask, but you had to know. "What do you see?" you whispered.

He moved closer to you so he could take your hand in his. "I see a beautiful woman with warm, caring eyes, and a gentle heart. I see a woman who makes me laugh, a woman who's witty and charming and brilliant. I see the kind of woman I can imagine a future with."

You were breathless by the time he'd finished speaking. No man had ever said anything like that to you before, even before you'd put on weight.

"Do you want more details? I can give you more," he said softly as he leaned forward so his body hovered over yours. You were caged in the corner of the couch and for the first time in a long time, you felt tiny.

You couldn't find the words, so you simply nodded.

He smiled down at you and licked his lips. "I see the sexiest woman I've ever met--a woman I've wanted to touch since the moment I laid eyes on her. Every part of her gorgeous body is perfect...and I want to claim it all as mine," he finished with a soft growl.

Every instinct in your body was screaming at you to just do something and you finally gave in. You wanted this as much as he did, so why not indulge?

You leaned forward and crashed your lips against his, moaning softly as he pulled you closer. He deepened the kiss, desperate to feel as much of you as he could.

You shifted beneath him, allowing him to settle between your legs. He wedged his knee against your crotch and brought his hands down to your sides.

You moaned softly as his lips began to trace your jaw line, then down your neck, then to the sweet spot behind your ear.

You felt his hot breath in your ear as he whispered, "You're so beautiful." You shivered involuntarily and your hips bucked forward in search of friction.

He chuckled softly. "Needy, are we?"

"Yes," you admitted, allowing the desperation to creep into your voice. "Need you."

"Oh sweet thing, don't you worry, I'll take care of you."

"Elliot," you whimpered softly.

He groaned. "God I love hearing you say my name like that."

He grabbed you around the waist and pulled you against him. You instinctively wrapped your legs around him and he whispered, "Good girl."

You shuddered, the praise going right to your core. It didn't go unnoticed by him, and he tucked it in the back of his mind for later.

"Where's the bedroom?"

You pointed to the right and he stood up with you still wrapped around him like a baby koala. "Elliot!" you yelped.

He smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. "Don't worry, baby, I got you."

He carried you to your room with ease, tossing you onto the bed like you weighed nothing more than a rag doll. You'd never been so turned on in your damn life.

He climbed on the bed, covering you with his large form. His lips sought yours again, latching onto you like you were his lifeline. Your left hand trailed up his back, your fingers gently clutching the hairs at the back of his head.

He continued to kiss you, but your mind began to wander. You thought about seeing him in the gym earlier that morning and your body started to heat up even more. You wanted to see all of him, not just his arm muscles.

You gripped the edge of his shirt and tugged harshly, desperate to get it off him as fast as possible. He chuckled softly as he sat up, just long enough to take off his shirt.

He was back on top of you before you could register the view--and you found yourself annoyed. An idea popped into your head and you smirked against his lips. He might be a hell of a lot stronger than you, but you had the element of surprise.

You wrapped your legs around his waist again, pulling him towards you so you could lock your ankles around him. His groan quickly turned into a gasp of surprise when you flipped him onto his back. You smiled down at him, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked lightly.

"I wanted to see you better...so I'm in control now."

He didn't often give up control anywhere, let alone the bedroom, but you looked so pleased with yourself that he couldn't help but acquiesce.

Your eyes had drifted from his face to his exposed torso. He watched as your hands followed the curve of his muscles, eyes drinking in every inch of his skin. The way you looked at him was intoxicating--it was like a drug he didn't wanna quit.

Your eyes flicked back up to his and he saw the unbridled lust in them. It took every ounce of self-control he had to not flip you over and fuck you senseless. All he could think about was hearing you screaming his name, but he knew he had to wait. He had a feeling it would be worth it.

"Can I touch you?" he asked softly.

You nodded and he immediately grabbed your hips and tugged you onto his abdomen. He wanted you to be a little bit closer so he could touch every part of you. His hands slowly slid under the hem of your shirt and for a moment, you froze--panic rising in your chest.

Elliot saw it flicker across your face, so he stopped moving, but he didn't remove his hands. He wanted to make sure you knew he was only stopping to make sure you were comfortable, not because he found something he didn't like.

"Can I keep going?" he whispered.

You nodded cautiously, so he slowly moved his hands farther up your belly. He enjoyed the feeling of your soft curves and he had a feeling he was really going to enjoy holding onto you while he fucked you.

He reached the edge of your bra and paused, waiting for you to indicate it was okay for him to continue. You didn't tell him to stop, so he slid his hands up over your breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze. You released a soft sigh and he did his best to keep moving at a slow pace, despite wanting to literally rip your clothes off.

You allowed him to pull your shirt up and over your head, and it took all the energy you had not to wrap your arms around yourself and hide. When you saw the look on his face--the hunger in his eyes--you suddenly didn't feel as self-conscious as before. Your body reacted to him in the same way his reacted to you, and you felt the desperation begin to creep in.

You shifted your hips, seeking some kind of friction against his body, while your nails raked down his chest. He groaned softly, but his hands didn't leave your body. Instead, they slipped around to your back and quickly unhooked your bra.

The moment your breasts came into full view, his hands began to massage and knead them, fingers pinching and twisting your nipples gently.

You moaned and dug your nails into his sides, gripping them for stability. He looked up at you, at your dark, lust-filled eyes, and he lost control for a moment. He flipped you onto your back so fast you let out a little yelp in surprise.

That yelp quickly turned to deep moans as his mouth attached to your breasts, sending bolts of pleasure through your body. His hands fumbled with the button and zipper of your pants--he was about 3 seconds away from ripping them when he finally got the buttons undone.

"Why are women's dress pants so complicated? There are literally THREE buttons." he mumbled against your skin.

You laughed warmly, knowing he was right. "Try wearing them sometime."

He grinned up at you. "They look better on you, but..." he tugged your pants off and tossed them onto the floor. "...just as I thought, they look much better on the floor."

You chuckled at his joke and rolled your eyes. You were about to comment on the cheesiness of his statement, when he sat up and began removing his own pants. You were so focused on watching him that you forgot what you were about to say.

You eyed his bulge when it came into view and you began to pant with need. Elliot noticed and gave you a little smirk. "Want me to take these off?" he asked, gesturing to his boxers.

You nodded rapidly.

"Sorry, baby, I didn't catch that."

"Yes, please," you said aloud.

"Good girl."

You moaned and rolled your hips involuntarily--the praise going directly to your core.

His words had the desired effect on you and it only made him want you more. He tugged off his underwear and climbed back into the bed, but you stopped him with a gasp.

"Absolutely not," you said with wide eyes.

"What?" he asked in confusion. He followed your line of sight and realized you were staring directly at his dick. "Something wrong?"

"It's not gonna fit."

Elliot nearly collapsed in relief as he started to laugh. "Baby, you had me worried for a minute." He laughed again. "Don't worry, it'll fit."

You shook your head. "I might be a big girl, but my vagina isn't."

He laughed again. "You're perfect, baby, and I promise you, I'll be gentle."

You finally looked back up at him, eyes still filled with doubt. He offered you a warm smile and it helped to put you at ease. "Okay," you murmured. "I trust you."

"That's my girl." He climbed back on top of you and kissed you deeply.

When he broke off the kiss, he began to make his way down your body, lips never more than an inch away from your skin. He was dying to taste you and he was quite certain he'd waited long enough.

When he reached your core, his eyes flicked up to yours to make sure you were watching. He grabbed ahold of the edge of your panties with his teeth and tugged on them--pulling them down your body with nothing but his mouth.

You didn't know why the hell that was so hot, but good god it was. But nothing could have prepared you for the sight of Elliot's large body between your legs, mouth mere centimeters from where you needed him. You'd never imagined he'd look this damn good, nor did you imagine you would feel so comfortable baring yourself to him completely.

Elliot locked eyes with you as he placed soft kisses to your inner thighs and your pussy lips. He breathed in your scent as he did so, and he had to grip the bedsheets to keep from losing his control.

You were panting heavily, the anticipation nearly killing you. "Elliot, please," you whimpered, hips jerking slightly.

He smiled as he placed another kiss to your mound. "Please what, baby?"

"Do something," you begged.

"Something?"

"Anything! Please!"

Normally he would have kept asking until you used your words and told him what you really wanted, but he was having a hard time resisting his own urges right now, so he decided to have mercy on you.

He dove into you with abandon, mouth working you in ways you'd never imagined. It was like having a sex god between your legs--not that you'd ever say that to him, he'd probably find it blasphemous--but in that moment, you couldn't be bothered to care.

Your nails raked against his scalp as you struggled to find purchase somewhere on his body. Your hands finally came to rest on his biceps, nails digging into his skin as you held on for dear life.

Your body jerked beneath him, the pleasure so immense that he had to hold you down to keep you from squirming away from him. He glanced back up at your face to make sure you were enjoying it--and was met with the most beautiful sight.

Your head was thrown back against the pillows, mouth open as you moaned and panted. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly with each heavy breath you took. He wished he could see your face better, but it was more than obvious you were enjoying yourself.

He somehow learned exactly what you liked, and what you needed, without you having to say a single word. You were more than pleased because you were certain you couldn't actually speak. The only sounds coming from your mouth were moans and something that closely resembled his name.

His fingertips were digging into your hips as he held you in place--his grip so tight it was sure to leave bruises. Your legs began to shake around him and your thighs started to close in on his head, but he was more than happy to wear your legs like earmuffs.

Your moans rose in volume and length, signaling you were close. Your nails dug deeper into his biceps, pressing crescent shapes into his skin. It would have been painful in any other setting, but he was more than delighted to bear the pain.

He knew you were close to orgasm, so he sped up his movements, tongue dancing against your clit with expert precision.

You gasped his name, hips jerking against him as you came. He held on tightly as he helped you ride out your high--not stopping even as you began to whimper.

"Too sensitive, Elliot," you gasped.

He lifted his head long enough to say, "I'm not done," before diving in with renewed vigor.

You gasped at the intensity of the sensations and within seconds you could feel a second orgasm building within you.

He lifted his head again. "Unless you want me to stop?"

"No!" you practically yelled. Your hand grabbed the back of his head and pushed him back down and he chuckled warmly at your insistence.

"I didn't think so," he mumbled before licking his way back into your pussy.

Unlike your first orgasm, your second hit you suddenly and quickly--rendering you nearly speechless. You could do nothing but gasp for air as wave after wave of pleasure threatened to drown you in an ocean of passion.

Elliot finally lifted his head, a satisfied smirk resting on his handsome features. You looked down at him, breathless and wide eyed, and he felt his body heat up.

He moved with such speed that it surprised you, nearly pouncing on top of you, mouth mere inches from yours. He seemed to be studying your face and for a moment you felt embarrassed--unaccustomed to such a lustful expression on another person's face.

But the way he looked at you--the desire evident in his eyes--simultaneously put you at ease and made you want him with renewed desire.

He touched your cheek, which was flushed bright red. He could feel the heat radiating from it and he liked being the cause of such a reaction. "You look beautiful like this," he whispered.

Your cheeks turned a darker crimson and he smiled, knowing he'd caused that as well. "I like you like this," he murmured. "Laid out beneath me, pretty eyes wide, lips parted, hair a mess...I've never seen anything so sexy."

"Elliot," you whispered. You didn't know what else to say, so you let your body do the talking for you. You tugged him down to you, lips latching onto his as you kissed him hungrily.

He lowered himself to be closer to you, careful not to put his weight on top of you--he didn't want to hurt you. His hands tangled in your hair as he deepened the kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

You moaned softly, hips pressing upward against his pelvis. His cock brushed against your core, earning a groan from deep in his chest.

You liked the sound he made and you were desperate to hear more of them, so you did it again, this time more slowly and with more pressure. He pressed against you, his own body seeking friction of its own volition.

You slipped your dominant hand between your bodies and wrapped it around the base of his cock, squeezing gently as you stroked upward. He groaned and his hips bucked against your hand.

Even though he was on top of you, you felt like you were in control...and you were going to use it to your advantage. You slipped the head of his cock between your folds, sliding it upward against your clit. He groaned and bit down into the soft flesh of your neck and you gasped at the mixture of pain and pleasure.

You were about to do it again, but Elliot pulled just out of reach. "Baby if you keep doing that, I'm gonna lose control."

Your eyes widened innocently. "What if that's exactly what I want?"

His eyes widened in surprise. "What?" he croaked.

"What if I want you to lose control? What if I like the idea of you fucking me like a feral wild animal? I want you to fuck me so well I can't walk tomorrow. Make me scream, Elliot. Please."

The seductive tone in your voice morphed into a plea at the end--a plea Elliot could not refuse. Not when you looked so gorgeous and needy beneath him...not when you said his name like that...not when you begged him to fuck you like he'd been dreaming about for months.

He grabbed his cock and began to rub it gently against your entrance, earning soft moans of pleasure from you. He knew you would feel incredible, but he was trying to hang onto whatever sanity he had left.

"Relax for me, baby," he whispered gently. He felt the tension in your body ease a little, but he needed you to be completely relaxed or he was definitely going to hurt you.

He gently rubbed circles into your hips, trying to calm your racing heart. "I've got you, doll. I'll go real slow, okay?"

You nodded, expression still worried.

"Hey," he whispered, leaning forward to kiss you softly. "You tell me to stop, I stop, okay? No matter what."

"I don't want you to stop," you whispered.

He smiled gently. "Just in case, baby." He kissed you again before assuming his previous position. "Just relax, beautiful. It'll feel so good--I know you're ready for me."

You relaxed your body as much as you could, but nothing could have properly prepared you for the stretch you were about to experience.

Elliot began to slowly enter you, eyes never leaving your face. Every time you winced or inhaled sharply, he wanted to stop, but you told him to keep going.

Once he fully bottomed out, your breathing was ragged as your body adjusted to his size. He was using every ounce of will power he'd ever had to just stay still.

"You're doing so well for me, baby," he managed to groan out. "Such a good girl."

Your pussy spasmed around him as the words "good girl" registered in your brain. You suddenly needed him to move...

The moment he felt you clench around him, something inside of him snapped and it was game over for him. Whatever self-control he'd had went out the window and he started to move, setting a fast pace from the start.

Your cries mixed with his groans as he slammed into you with force. Somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind, he worried he was hurting you, but one look at your face shut that voice down instantly.

You looked much like you did when he'd been eating you out, only this time he had a view of your face. It was a sight to behold--one he didn't think he'd ever get over.

"You feel so good, baby," he whispered.

"Please, El--" you whimpered.

He wasn't sure what you needed and you didn't appear to be in any position to tell him, so he decided to take matters into his own hands. He shifted his body so your hips were angled up, one leg on either side of head. As he thrust into you, you cried out desperately, hands fisting the sheets beside you.

He felt as the head of his cock hit that soft spot inside you--and he knew he couldn't stop now. He kept up his pace, slamming into your g-spot with each thrust.

The sounds coming from your mouth were incredible--he wanted to hear them every single day for the rest of his life. You were shaking with pleasure, body writhing against him as he struggled to keep you in place.

He needed to feel you cum around his cock at least once before he found his own release...so all of his focus was on getting you to your next orgasm.

He started to murmur dirty things to you, noticing the way your body reacted to his words. "Your pussy feels so good, baby. So tight and warm--I could stay here all night."

You were way too far gone to respond verbally, but your body told him everything he needed to know.

"You're taking me so well--squeezing so tight."

He placed soft, sloppy kisses to your calves, hips never slowing their intense pace.

"This is my pussy, you hear me? Mine. I'm gonna make sure she feels so good, baby."

You moaned loudly--clearly liking the idea of being his.

"You like that, huh? You like knowing you're mine? Like knowing I'm marking you? No one else will ever compare, baby--gonna ruin you."

"Elliot!" you screamed as your orgasm came crashing down on you. Your pussy spasmed around his cock, squeezing him so tightly he could hardly breathe.

The feeling of your orgasm triggered his own, sending him spiraling over the edge with a deep groan and whispers of your name. He filled you with his seed, letting your legs fall to either side of his hips as he stuttered his last few thrusts.

He collapsed on top of you, whispering your name against your skin like a prayer. He kissed your jaw and your neck--the affection warming your heart as you lay beneath him, slowly coming down from your high.

After several moments, Elliot pulled out of you and rolled onto his back. You both lay on the bed, breathless, as you tried to regain control of your heart rates.

Elliot grabbed your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours as he lay beside you. He turned to look at you and he smiled, taking in your beautiful post-sex glow.

You turned your head to look at him and smiled warmly. "That was..."

"Fucking incredible."

"I was gonna say decent," you teased.

He laughed and jokingly rolled away from you.

"Come back! I was kidding!" you called after him.

He kept laughing as he looked over his shoulder at you. "Come get me then."

"I can't move," you said simply.

He rolled back towards you, body now facing you. "Oh yeah? And it was just decent?"

"Decent--best sex of my life--same thing."

He grinned wolfishly and leaned in to kiss you. "That's more like it."

You rolled your eyes and affectionately smacked his arm. "Cocky, are we?"

"I know what I'm good at," he said with a shrug.

"Smart ass," you teased.

"But you like my ass," he teased back.

"It does look nice in those jeans you sometimes wear. Makes me wanna bite it."

"Oooo, kinky."

You both laughed.

Elliot looked down and his expression immediately sobered.

"What's wrong?"

"I--I didn't--I was so caught up..."

"What?"

He looked back up at you, a look of regret on his handsome face. "I didn't even think about putting on a condom, (Y/N)...I--God, I'm so sorry."

You shrugged. "No need to worry. I trust that you're clean."

"I am," he assured you. "But what about...pregnancy?"

"Oh," you brushed him off. "We definitely don't need to worry about that. I have a tiny sperm murderer living in my uterus."

"You have a what?"

You laughed. "I have an IUD."

He started laughing too. "Oh! 'Sperm murderer'..." he mumbled as he laughed even harder.

You grinned ear to ear. "I was gonna call it a tiny copper knight defending my honor, but I figured that was too much."

"You're so weird," he teased. "Come here."

You giggled as he grabbed you and dragged you against his chest. He held you tightly as he kissed your skin softly. "You're so beautiful," he whispered.

"Elliot..."

"You are," he insisted.

For the first time in a long time, you felt truly beautiful, but more importantly, you felt seen. He knew who you were and wanted you anyway. He liked you for you...and he liked your body, which was really just a bonus.

"What are you thinking about?"

"If we should get a shower...or go for round two?"

He groaned softly. "I'm an old man, doll."

You rolled over so you were on top of him. "Well that's just a pity...there's so much I wanna do to you."

His eyes seemed to burn as he looked at you. There was absolutely no way in hell he could say no to you. "You're gonna be the death of me."

"At least you'll die a happy man."

He grinned. "No man has ever been happier."

Before you could respond, he grabbed you and pulled you down to him, slamming his lips against yours in a bruising kiss. Your last coherent thought before Elliot sent you into orgasmic oblivion again was I guess that's a yes for round two.

[adventuretimetournament]

with all that being said these are my favorite jokes from the Elements miniseries

[Description: A video of several clips from the Elements miniseries of Adventure Time.

1: BMO and Candy NEPTR are standing next to each other.

NEPTR: (taps BMO) Hello!

BMO: NEPTR is so cute now! I'm going to start treating him as an equal.

2: Finn, Jake, and Sweet P are in the Candy Forest.

Sweet P, crying: Yes, I'm meat. But everything else is weird.

Finn: Wow, Sweet P. (He turns slowly toward Jake as he talks) That's almost exactly what I've been saying!

Jake, slapping a paw over Finn's mouth: Sweet P, do you remember what happened?

3: Finn and Jake are talking to Ice King in the Cloud Kingdom.

Finn: Is everyone in Ooo like, a zombie? Is everyone basically dead?!

Ice King: Everyone is not dead. It's much worse.

Finn and Jake stare at him in horror.

4: Finn, Jake, and Ice King are in the corrupted Ice Kingdom. Finn puts on a sweater with his own face on it, over the sweater he was already wearing.

Jake: Whoa! (chuckles) Two Finns.

Ice King: Huh?

He turns toward them and gasps as his eyes flick rapidly between the Finn on the sweater and the real Finn. He lets out a long, horrified scream, covering his face while he hyperventilates and sobs as Finn and Jake stare at each other in concern. Eventually, he calms down, looks at Finn again, and smiles as a single tear runs down his face.

Ice King: Oh... I get it. The top one's fake!

4: Ice Carol is standing in her doorway, talking to Finn.

Ice Carol: I feel great! It sure beats the sky, boy, was I ever getting sick of being a cloud. Everyone looking at me, saying things like... "I think that looks like a sailboat!" "I think that looks like a bird!" I'm a woman!

5: Finn and Jake (shapeshifted into a worm) are riding the skyhooks down from the clouds.

Finn, calling up to Betty and Ice King: Okay, we'll find the crown, grab the jewel, and then give a couple tugs on the skyhooks!

Ice King: Got it. Here's some trail mix for the road!

Betty drops a handful of trail mix onto Finn. The pieces bounce off his face.

6: Lumpy Space Princess is in the skating dome in the corrupted Slime Kingdom.

LSP: What?!

Slime Turtle Princess: We had a vote... and you're out.

LSP, tearing up: But I'm the plucky underdog!

Slime Turtle Princess: No. You're just terrible.

7: Finn and LSP are walking away from the party, with Finn partially transformed and wearing the crown on his head.

Finn: I got the jewel... but I lost Jake.

LSP shakes herself rapidly, removing the slime.

Finn: You're not a slime person?

LSP: No, I totally faked it. I just saw this lumpalicious party and I was like... "These are my people!" But even though I shoplifted this super cool outfit, I still didn't fit in! I guess... I don't fit in... anywhere! (She starts crying)

Finn, watching his hands revert to normal: Jake could fit in anywhere. Whatever happened, he was always like... "It'll work out."

LSP: Stop being so selfish, Finn! I'm the one hurting here!

8: LSP is watching Ice King and Betty feed the skyhooks downward.

LSP: So... you guys wanna do something? Got any music? ...You guys aren't just like, boring and old, right?

A few seconds of silence pass.

LSP, flying down: Finn, wait for me!

9: Finn has landed in the corrupted Fire Kingdom. He dusts off his shirt and looks around.

Finn: This doesn't look so bad.

A bird floats down from the sky. As soon as it touches the ashen ground, it evaporates in a burst of flame. Finn screams.

LSP: You see that bird? Gross!

10: Fire Wyatt, lying on the ground, is talking to Finn and LSP.

Fire Wyatt: I'm Fire Wyatt! I got rage! You cannot defeat me! (groans)

Finn: Let's take his armor.

LSP: Okay.

11: LSP is lecturing the rage-riddled fire people, including Finn and Gunter.

LSP: What's wrong with you?! Why can't you be more like those nice, boring losers in the Candy Kingdom?! With their little faces and songs?!

As she talks, Gunter slowly slides his fire sword deeper into the chest of his fallen enemy.

LSP: Or like me?! Why isn't everyone more like me?!

Finn: Kill her.

12: LSP is lamenting about the state of things as the fire people fight the candy people. As she talks, we see Candy Mr. Pig and Fire Wyatt fighting each other while Candy Tree Trunks cheers them on in the background.

13: Fire Finn, standing on Elemental Bubblegum, throws away his sword and drops down, rolling until his flame is extinguished.

Finn, standing: You did it, LSP. I'm human Finn.

He steps forward and hugs her.

LSP: There's no time for romance, Finn.

14: Ice King and Betty are flying away on the carpet.

Ice King: Okay, but, we should turn back still! Finn loves me! He sees me as like a handsome older brother.

Betty comes up and knocks him out with one swing of the Enchiridion.

15: Finn is surrounded by the candy people, who are all singing and rubbing themselves on him. A hand grabs his ankle and he screams.

LSP: Finn, it's me! I'm saving your tight butt!

16: In a flashback, LSP is in a classroom, being lectured by her parents.

Lumpy Space Mom: And LSP, this part is very, very important...

LSP: No more learning!

She leaves the classroom and goes outside to a green lumpy person in a sports car.

LSP: Hey, Michael! Let's get married!

The two of them drive off and the flashback ends, going back to Finn and LSP in a cave.

Finn: Wait, what?

LSP (slowly, with vocal fry): Michael...

End description.]

[xjulixred45x]

Can you headcanon of Mark Grayson/Invincible x Scarlet Witch fem reader from Marvel; she is serene, and kind-hearted please?

Awww yes of course! Thanks for the Request!

(SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY😭🫠 HOPE THIS IS OKAY)

Mark Grayson/Invincible x Scarlet Witch! Reader

Genre: Headcanons

Reader: female

Warnings: Spoilers from INVINCIBLE most recent season AND Wanda's Maximoff past(MCU), typical violence, Reader is good but has some heavy trauma, PTSD from both parts, comfort, fluff.

THEY= HYDRA

The life of a reader was quite complicated, even before the powers came into her life.

Living in a poor country, with a poor family, you had to do everything humanly possible to survive.

The reader's parents were good people, hard-working, honest, but thanks to this they were not at home much, they had to feed TWO children after all.

Therefore, the reader spent much of the time with her twin brother, Pietro.

Everything seemed to be going right in their lives, she remembers it well...

It was a quiet day, at night, her parents had been able to buy a television and they were all going to sit in front to have dinner and watch it.

She felt so happy...

...and then the missile fell...

Everything was dark for a long time, until Pietro was able to wake up reader, under the rubble of the house.

Their parents, dead.

Their house destroyed.

And worst of all? The missile was still there... flickering, as if it were going to explode at any moment...

It was the worst week of the reader's life, but the really bad thing was yet to come.

when THEY came into their lives.

The reader doesn't remember their names well, it doesn't matter now, not after what they did.

They saved them, but in compensation they wanted to use them as test subjects, who would help them create "heroes"

and since they had no one else, they went with them.

and the process of obtaining powers...was much more painful and straight out of a nightmare than the reader could imagine.

but they did it.

They got powers.

Pietro super speed.

reader...could almost warp reality.

equal.

but they were powerful enough to flee from THEM and try to seek justice into their own hands.

They were going to go after whoever bombed their house.

That was when they officially met Invincible.

To be fair, there were already reports of some thief with inhuman speed who was stealing in several cities (curiously, mainly food and clothing...)

But this was the first time he had done something BAD like attacking a company and not only that, but he was accompanied.

And at first that was their dynamic, Mark would try to prevent the twins from destroying the weapons company and hurting people, he would receive a beating/lore drop and they would leave due to a tactical disadvantage.

Even if Mark is fast, he can't outrun Pietro or the reader portals.

Which, by the way, is the most difficult to fight.

Mark tries to reason with her when they are still "enemies" while they fight (or rather Mark throws blows and she redirects them with magic) and while he can see that it works, he knows that it is difficult to forgive that easily. especially when you don't have all the context.

Although, ironically despite the initial beatings, Mark ends up enjoying these almost weekly encounters with the twins, especially with reader.

Why? because she is precisely the one who kicks his ass the most.

Don't get me wrong, he doesn't underestimate Pietro, but several of the reader's tricks have definitely left him in trouble several times... more than he can count.

Apart from the fact that while they fight, they talk about anything, the reader gradually opens up to Mark and evolves from being totally hostile to being hostile, but enjoying the dynamics, feeling in CONTROL of the situation.

(Probably on some occasion the reader got into Mark's mind, saw all the trauma he went through, and from there she understood him a little more, she was more understanding as she no longer only saw him as a hero)

apart from that Mark realizes several things.

one, that reader and her brother really don't want to hurt people, two, that they are exclusively going after a specific company, and three, reader is holding back on him.

She dosen't want to hurt ANYONE. None of them want to.

Mark realizes that they really aren't bad people, they just have something to figure out, but he can't just let them hurt people.

..but he could help them if they would let him.

reader is undecided, while Pietro is VERY vocal about it being a BAD idea, since the last time they allied themselves with some organization it ended in a lot of pain.

and, well, Mark understands that VERY WELL.

but at least now they stop attacking weapons installations so brutally. It's progress!

I can definitely see Mark trying to approach the reader like civilians (for that matter, Wanda doesn't even wear a mask) and because they no longer need to fight to see each other, their relationship improves.

Pietro and Mark are still a little tense, but at least he no longer attacks Mark when he sees him😅

Mark tries to introduce the reader to things she might like that she hasn't had the chance to try.

Can you imagine that the reader ends up liking Science Dog? Mark is so confused (and secretly happy) why she likes something "for kids" (mark)':) and the reader would open up about how she couldn't even have those kinds of things as a child, so having the opportunity to reading them even as an adult makes her very happy (:

(It's like the equivalent of an adult buying a toy they couldn't have because their parents didn't have money).

Probably thanks to that, the reader has more predilection for things from science fiction, amusement parks, sweets, etc.

reader healing her inner child😭

and thanks to this, the reader is calmer, more serene, more mature.

now she has a life ahead of her without THEM or revenge on his mind, he can live.

Pietro may end up finding his way in his own way too. probably lending a hand with his speed when needed.

By the time the reader starts having a relationship with Mark, she and her brother probably become some kind of vigilante duo, no, they don't work for Cecil, but you could tell they try to do things right.

Mark also helps them out and defends them if their teammates get defensive.

reader definitely uses magic to do certain everyday tasks, including tidying up when she's at Mark's house. Who knows, she can even remodel if she wants😅

Probably thanks to this, Debbie really likes reader, not only because she is a charming young woman, but because she has a good influence on Mark and vice versa.

Reader and Pietro don't really go to school, so they probably study at home, Mark can give them a hand with their homework! Of course, in the topics in which he is not very VERY behind🤣

They both really enjoy the time they spend together in general. Whether it's reading comics, flying, even when they find themselves patrolling, it's enjoyable.

well, except for Pietro who is now condemned to be the third wheel🤣.

I can definitely see Mark giving some of his old toys to the reader as gifts instead of throwing them away like last season, since as much as she got excited about the comics, the toys left her CRYING. IN A GOOD WAY!!

A part of Mark's heart breaks a little thinking about all the trauma the reader went through for THAT to make her cry.

just like other things.

for example, I think Reader would HATE alarm clocks, especially the ones with flashing lights...

just like she has HUGE claustrophobia and fear of the dark.

Any of those things can cause either a slight tremor or a full-blown panic attack.

and that combined with powers does not end well at all.

Mark is the only one who can calm her down during these outbursts and come out alive😅 along with Pietro obviously.

Also despite the great difference in power between the two, Mark continues to be protective of the reader, not only because of his history of trauma, but also because he told her about the times in which she has been manipulated/used (e.g. THEM) and partly Thanks to the big heart of a reader, Mark is worried that she is a little naive/easy to fool.

although in general it is the reader who saves her skin in risky situations. whether finding it in another dimension, preventing buildings from collapsing while fighting someone, sending an enemy to another planet, etc.

he definitely finds her cute (and hot when things get bad, but this is sfw so).

When the Viltrumites come to Earth, you can bet these protective instincts rise TO A THOUSAND (reader will probably try to use magic on Mark's house so his enemies will have a hard time tracking him down).

Mark introducing the reader to Oliver and her doing magic tricks to entertain him ✨(Mark falls in love again lol)

In general, a couple that supports each other through the good and the bad. together .

(Pietro will forever be the third wheel though🤣)

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

[fuckyeahisawthat]

So Denis Villeneuve has this particular type of close-up shot that he uses to varying degrees in all his movies but uses a lot in Dune, particularly when shooting Paul. In fact he uses one for the very first shot of Paul in Dune Part One.

There are some common cinematographic elements that define what I would consider the Villeneuve Close-Up (TM), but I'll admit there is also a vibes-based, you-know-it-when-you-see-it element to picking out these shots, which means all discussion here is somewhat subjective and we're talking about general trends instead of fixed categories. But in general, in these shots the camera tends to be at eye-level with the character, which means it can be very low or even on the ground if they are having a floor-based experience.

Sometimes we're in a SUPER extreme close-up where the character's face is filling the frame.

Other times we are not actually that close but we know we are seeing something that other characters are not.

The character may be alone or they may be surrounded by people, but the point of these shots is to reveal something to us the audience that no one else in the scene sees, pulling us into a private emotional world where it's just us and the character. It's a very effective tool for building sympathy and emotional intimacy.

I'm not the only person who's noticed that we lose this specific kind of close-up of Paul entirely in the section of the movie after Paul drinks the Water of Life. I've seen this described as "we're no longer seeing from Paul's POV" or even "he stops being the protagonist of the movie at that point" but I don't think either of these are exactly what's going on. Seeing the world of the story through a certain character's POV is different from what I'm talking about here, and Dune Part Two takes us through many shifts in POV over the course of the movie.

What happens is that we, the audience, recoil from our close, intimate visual and emotional relationship to Paul--or maybe he withdraws from us--for a portion of the movie after he drinks the Water of Life. But, crucially, not right away.

This shot in the "we're Harkonnens" conversation is such a classic Villeneuve Close-Up (TM). We're positioned as if we're sitting right next to Paul, seeing something on his face that is mostly hidden from Jessica, who's standing across the room and slightly behind him.

I think this shot is super important for telling us (even if we only register it subconsciously) that the Paul we know is not completely dead. Drinking the Water of Life may make you see things that others can't, and it may make you a little unhinged, but it doesn't make you inhuman. There's still a person in there.

I would argue that the distancing from Paul starts in these shots:

This is still a close-up; we are not much further away from Paul than in the shot above, but the vibe is totally different. Now we are seeing him the way his followers do, closed-off and purposefully intimidating. We are seeing the image he chooses to present to the world and none of the human vulnerability underneath.

We stay at this emotional and visual distance from him for most of the rest of the movie--but not the whole thing. Because after watching Paul be a terrifying force of destruction for half an hour, we get slammed into remembering he is a person--young, hurt, alone; a person who didn't want any of this--at the very end of the movie.

I think you could make an argument for a few different shots being the first Villeneuve Close-Up of the end of the movie. But where I always notice it is here, when the Emperor is talking about Leto.

While not a particularly close close-up, I'm always struck by this shot as well:

And then we really get pulled in close to Paul during the duel--particularly at the end of the duel when he's already wounded and it seems like he might lose. We get this angle several times:

We get this shot that I'm particularly feral about...

...because while the focus of this shot is (1) the knife and (2) Feyd, someone made sure that the features you notice on Paul's face are his eyelashes and the curls of hair falling in his face, the features that make him look most soft and vulnerable.

And then of course after Paul has won the duel we get this shot, another peak Villeneuve Close-Up (TM) that I have already written about, where Paul is surrounded by people chanting his name but no one to pull the knife out of his shoulder for him.

And we hold onto that connection with Paul right up through "Lead them to paradise."

Which is an insane choice for that moment actually! Once again, this is not a super close close-up, but we're watching him from a perspective that no other character can see and we understand that there's no personal triumph in this moment for him.

Now, obviously, there are a lot of other choices being made in these scenes, in terms of writing, performance, lighting, score, everything. The camera placement is just one element supporting the overall storytelling. But it's one that's very easy to track through screenshots and a good example of how one specific element of filmmaking can be used to influence how we see a character, whether or not we even consciously notice it while immersed in the film.

[capsgirl19]

Alright boys, Jesus Christ, I spent several hours in a Wikipedia hole learning about Doflamingo's boat, Spanish literature, and the Roman Empire and I think I might've unraveled a fair chunk of the plot inspiration for Dressrosa? Good lord.

So it all started in my local East Asian imports store. I was browsing their models, fruitlessly hunting for more Slowpoke kits, when I noticed they had a bunch of One Piece ship model kits. Super cool, pretty big selection, so I decided to see if they had Doffy's ship online. Well, they don't. Sad life, but I said "it's fine, we see it for all of like 10 seconds, I don't think that ship even has a name. And I'm super not bitter that Garp's warship (called 'Garp's Warship' on the model kit bc that one is actually unnamed) was included while my man's was not." And then I figured I should look up whether Doflamingo's ship has a name, which it apparently does. The Numancia Flamingo.

Well I get the flamingo part, but what the hell is Numancia? In the trivia on the wiki page, it says it may be named after the Spanish battle ship Numancia, so now I'm on that Wikipedia page. The Spanish ship was the first warship to circumnavigate the globe. Cool, but that's fucking nothing with regard to what really matters, One Piece lore. So it's time to go and look at the list of other ships named Numancia, because apparently this is not a one-off for Spain.

According to the list page, these ships are all named in honor of the Siege of Numantia, an old city near modern-day Soria. Numantia (Numancia is the Spanish spelling) was a Celtiberian settlement in 134 BC, at which time Rome decided that it would actually very much like for Numantia to be a Roman settlement, and in keeping with this sent out some guys to really just beat the hell out of those Celtiberians once and for all. Now, Numantia was a fort on a hill, so the plan was to do a siege, which worked. Attempts to break the siege were unsuccessful, and the city attempted to negotiate surrender under the condition that they wouldn't be enslaved. The Romans refused this offer. There was mass suicide, followed by the remaining populace burning the city to ashes before surrendering unconditionally to the Romans.

Alright, interesting, so this is picking up. It's not like One Piece doesn't have stuff named after random ass battles, but they're typically naval battles and the Siege of Numantia is pretty definitively a land-based conflict. I guess it can't hurt to check the "legacy" section.

Oh, that's cool, there's a Spanish play about it! Some scholars think it's the best Spanish tragedy of all time! El Cerco de Numancia. It's by--

It's by Miguel de Cervantes. Best known for his authorship of Don Quixote. Fucking hell.

Right. Cool, cool, cool. How does the play differ from the real life Siege of Numantia? Well, for one we're going to need main characters to anchor us to the story. This means adding a central romance between a soldier (Marandro) and a woman who lives in the city (Lira). Their marriage has been arranged by Lira's father, but postponed due to the war. Their storyline ends with Marandro entering enemy territory to steal bread for Lira, but succumbing to his wounds shortly after bringing it to her.

There's also the matter of Doflamingo's appearance. If you look up who he's based on, you'll get a lot of results about French musician Michel Polnareff. I can definitely see the sense of style and general coloring from this, but from the neck up they kind of look nothing alike, save sunglasses and blond hair. There's somebody else that Doffy's always reminded me of though, the shape of the nose, set of the cheekbones, the damn hairline...

Yeah, guy's a dead ringer for Julius Caesar, the face of the Roman Empire. I don't think this is a stretch, the dude literally showed up and immediately installed a to-the-death gladitorial system of enslaved prisoners in a pre-existing coloseum, it's clear Rome was an influence on the plotline.

Oda strikes a balance between the nobility of tragedy and the messy human reality of war. In the Cervantes play, every inhabitant of Numantia dies before surrendering to enslavement. Many of them gracefully succumb to starvation. The very gods of their land weep for their sacrifice. In reality, the residents of Numantia engaged in cannibalism (as one might expect of a slowly starving populace). Many of them died, but several thousand surrendered to become Roman slaves.

As he often does, Oda finds a middle ground between humanity and humanist ideals. Initially, I wondered if it was all in the name of his ship, all wrapped up before he even makes it to the New World: ultimately, Doflamingo is going to fail because the people of Dressrosa will die before willingly submitting to enslavement. But I think it's not quite so simple as that. Certainly, he's deposed in the end. Justice prevails, as it were. But it's hard to argue that a man who ruled a country for a decade, getting everything he wanted and enslaving half its populace, failed. Furthermore, the people are not noble after this ends. They're angry and afraid and they act in ways that hurt the people trying to free them and by extension their own self-interest.

We all know how Dressrosa ends, but I'm more in love with how unafraid of people One Piece is. How it depicts our flaws with sympathy even as it insists that people want to be good and usually just need a little encouragement.

Oh shit I've wandered off into misty-eyed anarchist sentiments about the inherent goodness of humanity again, this happens all the time, my point is: I TRACKED DOWN AND READ A SPANISH PLAY FOR THIS! THIS BASTARD HAS MADE ME A FULLER AND MORE CULTURED PERSON AGAIN! GODDAMN IT!

[themculibrary]

Logan/Wade Masterlist

All I Want For Christmas is You (Deadpool Edition) (ao3) - jenniferlawrencelover E, 52k

Summary: Wade never thought he would be engaged again.

And he wasn't.

Yet.

Backshots Mountain (By Wade Wilson) (ao3) - 69OldManYaois E, 8k

Summary: Wade and Logan decide to take a little summer vaycay camping trip in the Canadian wilderness. Logan is excited to be back in nature again, but Wade seems a little distracted, something dark gnawing at the back of his mind.

he's a killer queen (ao3) - weedwilson (moobees01), wizardcrowe E, 6k

Summary: Wade and Logan aren't technically dating. As in, they haven't said as much since they first started hooking up, and Wade isn't one to risk losing something good no matter how much he wants more. Which is why it hurts spectacularly when Wade catches Logan reading a dating advice magazine and the man sputters out that he has a date for Valentine's Day. After a short interrogation, Wade resolves to do the only logical thing he can think of: kill Logan's date.

I want to be there for you (ao3) - sultrydolli G, 1k

Summary: After a mission, Logan wants to make sure Wade takes care of himself, but Wade refuses. This suddenly makes Logan feel useless, but why?

Losing All Senses (ao3) - all_the_bats_in_the_world E, 11k

Summary: Logan has super developed senses, yes, it's part of his mutation, so he's always hearing, smelling and seeing even the smallest details. But after the timeripper his senses aren't working properly, still all he can focus on is Wade.

Some porn with feelings fic to help you all pass the time.

Make It Through This Year (If It Kills Me) (ao3) - TheBasilRathbone M, 25k

Summary: After a truly shitty year (several, actually), a trip to the wilderness seemed like a good idea at the time. He's not lonely or isolating himself, he's trying out that self-care thing everything is always yammering on about. Wade just wants to get shit-faced in solitude and vape weed near a tree, so sue him.

But a sudden storm means no heat, no power, no food, no phone reception, and definitely hypothermia. At least it would, if not for the lumberjack a few cabins down who rescues him, grumpily and with great reluctance, like a plaid-wearing superhero.

Red Death & The Werewolverine (ao3) - EroticOmens E, 45k

Summary: Wade's heard stories about the vengeful spirit that's said to watch over the forest since he can remember. He always loved those stories, full of fantasy and violence. Perhaps it's not as far fetched as it all seems. Perhaps this predator is nothing more than a man...a man who needs love like anyone else.

Something stupid (ao3) - MakikoIgami E, 4k

Summary: Logan knows that life isn't going to change for him. He's been through way too many 'life changing' events to know that much. Well, even if they change, they won't do so immediately.

Deadpool & Wolverine end scene extended.

so tell me what you want (what you really, really want) (ao3) - Edgebug E, 7k

Summary: He stops in the doorway like a bird hitting a sliding glass door. "Holy fuck," he blurts out. "What are you doing?"

The oven is on. The timer is set for half an hour. Various bowls and canisters and implements of destruction litter the kitchen. Logan's arms are dusted with white powder, one of them cradling a large bowl and the other wielding a spoon.

Logan casts a glance over his shoulder. "Snorting cocaine," he says bluntly. "Want some?"

(Or: Five Times Logan Treated Wade's Family Like His Own, And One Time Wade Picked Up On What Was Actually Happening)

Subway (B)Rat (ao3) - Icarus_redwings E, 5k

Summary: Wade talks bad about himself and Logan hates this so fucks him nasty in a dirty subway bathroom then carries him home. That's the whole fic!

"You're a fucking moron, you know that?"

"Aww thanks muffin, Oh wait-" He gasps, "Omg wolvie are you about to fuck the shit out of me in a dirty bathroom!?"

"Shh! Not if you don't shut up."

"Loagie you know I can't. It's a medical condition." He says in a dead serious whine.

Sunshine and Whiskey (ao3) - that_one_dead_author E, 40k

Summary: “Oho, there’s number two-oh-seven.” Wade laughs and Logan already knows he’s grinning beneath his cowl. “That fight really got ya goin’ huh?”

Logan hated the way he could feel his cheeks heat up. He snarled, “shut the fuck up, Red.” There was a spray of warm blood against Logan’s knuckles, a breathy groan from Wade sending a shiver down the older man’s spine.

Wade glanced out of a broken window to his right. “Isn’t he cute?” He asked an invisible audience. Logan rewarded him with another stab.

Wade’s attention turned back to Logan, gloved hands grabbing his hips and giving an experimental roll of his hips. Logan’s breath hitched, and Wade had the passing thought that he wanted to swallow the sound.

Tease (ao3) - Eggsymanaha E, 6k

Summary: 5 times Logan teases Wade, and 1 time he follows through.

Basically Wade freaking out over Logan perchance liking him, and Logan having fun messing with him. How the turn tables.

the bucket list (ao3) - mikaminato E, 33k

Summary: Wade loses his mutation and his cancer returns. With only a little time left, he decides to create a bucket list and make the most of his final moments. Together with Logan, he tries to check off every item on the list.

That is, until Logan decides he's not ready to say goodbye just yet.

Wade Wilson's Accidental Guide to Surviving a Valentine's Day Cruise Breakup (ao3) - anderscones M, 106k

Summary: Wade and Logan meet on a week-long Valentine’s Day cruise, dumped by their respective parties at the last minute. The idea of winning every cruise-hosted event and rubbing it in everyone’s faces is like shiny objects to crows for Wade, but he needs a partner to do it successfully. Preferably a beautiful piece of arm candy to shock the haters. Logan just wants to survive this vacation. If he enjoys the thought of his exes getting a little jealous over his budding fake-relationship while he does it?

Well.

That’s between him and Wade.

we got love sure enough (ao3) - ziphiidae M, 30k

Summary: There’s something about the mundane that wrestles with Logan’s mind far more than violence ever has. He’s already proven to himself that he can be a hero. Now it’s time to prove he can once again be someone worthy of trust on a far more personal level. ___

Or, Logan and Wade's bumpy road to domesticity.

[leavemebetosleep]

do you have any good fluttercord fic recs?

OH BOY DO I. In no particular order (except of when I thought of them):

1: Non-Entity by Captain Wuzz: An AU in which, instead of being turned to stone, Discord was shot in the head with a magic arrow that takes away his sentience and magic for a 1,000 years. Fluttershy mistakes him for a wounded animal and brings him home. I loved it so much.

2: Chaotic Neutral by C-Puff: The magic is starting to fade from Equestria, and the Main 6 and Discord go on an adventure to find out why, and reverse it. A bit of AU, in the sense it was written before the show was done, so it diverts in some places because of that. Super sweet, and I love the character development here.

3: Time is Taller than Space is Wide by Dott. Can also be read on Ao3 if you prefer. Soulmate AU (?) fic with a Groundhog Day style twist. I rarely see fics play with the idea of what if Fluttershy and Discord's friendship had started when they first met, so this is fun.

4 & 5: Blank and it's sequel Reconnection by @geekcat. Can also be read on fanfic.net. AU in which, before Discord can choose friendship over ruling Equestria, Twilight remembers a "reformation" spell. He is stripped of his free will, and Fluttershy does her best to bring him back. If you don't like the idea of Twilight being a villain, you might not like this one, but I think her villain arc in this is done in a perfect way for her character. It's super heart wrenching in many places, but in a good way.

6: Our Fair Lady of the Chaos Lord, also by GeekCat Can also be read on fanfic.net. Fairy tale inspired AU in which Fluttershy is a princess who's father is pressuring her to marry noble knight Sir Big Mac. Wanting to be sure he's a good person, she makes a deal with the Chaos Lord, letting herself be "kidnapped" so she can test his character. You can guess who she falls for instead. Honestly I've enjoyed all of GeekCat's fics, so they're getting an extra mention. Check out the rest of their fluttercord fics if you like any of these.

7: The Draconequus with the Dragon Tattoo by A M Shark This is a major case of, strange premise, kick ass results. Basically an AU based off Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Steig Larsson, with Discord as Lisbeth, and Fluttershy as an amalgamation of Mikael and several other characters, but focusing more on the murder mystery aspect of that book, and less on the...everything else. If you're familiar with GwtDT, don't worry, there's no rape scenes. Again, it's more about the murder mystery part. If you're not familiar with GwtDT, then don't worry again, because you don't need to know the original to enjoy it. It's just Discord and Fluttershy playing detective and solving a murder together. It has two sequels, but I haven't read them yet, and it didn't feel right to rec something I haven't read.

8: The Corpse Bride by Bad Horse. Dark fic. No relation to the Burton movie. Fluttershy dies in a tragic accident, and Discord brings her back from the dead as his zombie wife. Her friends (sans Pinkie) are horrified. Has a fantastic twist ending. If you like some of the darker stuff, def worth a read.

Bonus: Comic rec: The Last Adventure by Eveeka. Taking place after the final defeat of Tirek, Cozy, and Chrysalis, Discord gets into a depressive funk after shouldering the hatred from Ponyville citizens for his latest actions, but also because his friends seem to never be available anymore. He starts to think maybe Equestria would be better off without him, as he can't seem to exist with out making everyone miserable, and decides to hide away in the Everfree forest. Fluttershy, worried when he doesn't show up for tea, asks her friends for help, only to discover there's a monster running lose there he and the rest of Equestria might be in danger from. This fic has two endings, so keep reading even when it seems like it's over. You've got one more ending left. This one nearly made me cry.

[galactic-rhea]

I love your empress padme au, they should be evil and unhinged. I'm misly curious as to what the kiddos are up to, (and some of the other characters, I imagen they're mostly side eyeing anidalla like "wtf is happining over there???") Anyways I kind of love the consept of "evil chaos family fun"

Neither of them are stay at home parents but the imagen of vaderkin in a frilly apron trying SO hard to cook for his family has popped into my head and will not leave

Vader should get a cloak wich has "property of Padme" embrodered on the back

dfkjgnkjngfdjk thank you, Padmé would ask him to cook with an appron and nothing else

About the question, well! Just yesterday someone asked in the comments about the twins too! And well, you see, I'm undecided! This will get long!

See, when I originally envisioned the empress Padmé AU, what I had on mind is that Padmé spent about 5-6-7 years with the rebels, and that's why we have Vader as...as we known him, you know, almost-classic Vader. Unknown to the rebeels that Padmé's goal was sliiiiiightly different as theirs. She would have the twins (or at least, known where they're being hidden, and visint them and everything) and her goal would be to reunite her family, she's a bit obssesed with having her family fully and complete.

But! The idea that, for example, after having the twins she was unconscious for several days or something, and it was decided that hidding the twins was the better choice and told her they died it's so very tasty and angsty! Vader and Padmé would be EVEN MORE codependant and messed up out of the grief (also THE GUILT Vader feels about thinking he caused their kids death as he sees Padmé so distraguth?!!!! He wants to constantly kill himself, he probably wants Padmé to kill him, tasty angst) If she believes her twins to be dead, then she believes she only has her husband, and she's very overprotective of him (and possesive, a lot).

And then you would have the plot following slightly similar to the movies, but now the twins have to redeem BOTH of their parents who are kinda enabling each other so hjhbdgdfsf

(Either Leia wasn't given to Bail and Breha because...come on, or I'll have to invent a super duper and convenient explanation)

Also @squad-724 suggested the idea of Padmé and Vader somehow sort of bringing Ahsoka (inquisitor ahsoka, wahoo!) into this and now I won't stop thinking about it (unconsciously) having Ahsoka as their stand-in-daugther because they lost their twins. Messed up, messed up and all these conflicting feelings guys!!!!

BUT! On the other hand, Imperial twins raised by both EVIL PARENTS is super fun, like, this poor galaxy can't catch a breath. Because my Vader raises the twins AU have them being double agents with Vader trying hard to cover them up so the emperor won't kill them. But here it probably makes them less likely to turn against their parents! However, 5-6 years being raised among rebels, and then being raised in the imperial palace and becoming prince and princess and at the very least knowing your mom kinda betrayed the rebels is probably enough to give you suspicion and "huh,,,this is kinda bad? Maybe"

For Padmé and Vader though, I think it would bring a very devoted and angry protectiveness for both Padmé and Vader; they aren't that invested in the empire and power tbh, they just want to have their Little House On The Prairie fantasy with a family fully complete and safe, at all costs. It would make them even more of a team and less weaknesses. Though, I once kinda as a joke just imagined Padmé getting tired of all of it and going "ah whatevery, let the galaxy burn by itself while we ran a way somewhere" and that's it because seriously Padmé wanted to actually give up on all the work, no big redemption or big epic dramatic moment, the imperial family just disappeared one night and no one knows what happened (surely they were murdered?) when they're just chilling in some super random and secret corner of the galaxy doing, idk, the most boring thing ever, farming. Luke and Leia get bored and become spice smugglers . The end.

For the last question, though, I think half of the people think Padmé is a victim of this terrible situation somehow (oh noooo, she was kidnapped by that monster, who knows what she's enduring, or she's being mind-controlled :( ), that she's some sort of puppet empress while Vader actually makes all the choices because,,,come on, that was the emperor's second hand right there. The other half of the people remember Padmé was a bit of a political apprentice for Palpatine, and they're also both from Naboo, and it was also thanks to her Palpatine became the Chancellor, maybe she did want power from the start, maybe Naboo is fucked up, never let politicans from Naboo have power again.

And then there's the third secret thing, which is only a very limited number of people like Obi-Wan and Bail (and Padmé and Vader's palace staff lol), that are fully side-eyeing her.

There's also the problem that since she actually worked with the rebels, she,,,knows a lot, she probably knows almost all the names of the rebels' leaders, she probably knows there's a underground society helping jedi run and to which planets. She knows so much, and yet she doesn't actively chase them (or more like, she doesn't actively send Vader to chase them), and if she does send her husband, which is rarely since she wants him to stay where she can see him (remember when I said obssesive and possesive and overprotective?), she's probably doesn't tell him that much info because it's entertaining, giant galactic chess game, lmao.

Also, her empire isn't half as awful as Palpatine's, like, it's still very bad but it's leagues better and she does probably finally forces the good charity projects she never could as a senator, and well, complacency it's extremelly dangerous for freedom. So there's that.

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

I think for all the discussions we have of "everyone hears the jokes and the piano; after that, they stop listening" surrounding Louis, we tend to still simplify his connection to the piano.

Yes, it's very cute that he sings Clementine a little song when they first meet, and it's very cute that he plays a little prank on her while "tuning" the piano. It's super cute that they carve their initials into the piano and Clementine carves a heart around them. It's mega cute that he names his song he wrote after her when she confesses her feelings. Louis playing Don't Be Afraid at the party is, in my opinion, one of the best moments in all of TFS.

But here's the thing: That piano is Louis' heart.

I don't mean to go all metaphorical on you, but I'm dead serious—the piano is Louis' heart, and when you think about his arc and his romance route with that in mind...?

That piano is his one comfort in a world where the dead walk. It's been with him from the beginning of the outbreak. We know from his backstory that Louis wanted to take singing lessons so he could be a real musician, and his father denying him of that was what set him off to be a "vindictive fuckhead." Louis never got those singing lessons, and it's a very real possibility that Louis taught himself how to play.

Sure, others could've taught him; we know Minerva was musically talented, perhaps she showed him a thing or two. But learning piano, or any instrument, is brutal even with professional guidance. It takes hours of practice until numbness wears fingertips raw; dedication to memorize every key and finger placement to make music pleasing to the ear; self-discipline to keep going through every fumble, every failure, every single cruel thought of self-doubt; intelligence and a creative ear to write his own songs.

And yet, it's severely under-appreciated by everyone. It's annoying. It's distracting. It's unimportant. It's an excuse for Louis to mess around and not do any real work. He doesn't have any actual talent. The music and the piano are brushed off, unheard.

Yet, Louis keeps playing. He keeps singing. He keeps making jokes.

Creating music, the one thing he wanted so badly as a kid that he destroyed his parents marriage, was possibly the greatest comfort he had... a welcome distraction to disassociate from the horror and death happening around him.

It's bittersweet, like a purpling bruise that you can't stop pressing on; it hurts, but there's something else below the pain. The piano is out of tune and it's something that brings him joy... but will always act as a constant reminder of who he was and what he did, why he's at Ericson to begin with.

We first meet him while he's playing; Louis' heart is exposed, but is it really? Is he playing to his true potential? Louis hides behind the mask of a charming, charismatic goof. It's what is expected of him, so he plays a silly song intended to poke and prod at Clementine, to gauge a reaction. That's something we see him do at multiple points in episode one. In fact, we can consider a majority of episode one to be like the song he's playing when we meet him; it's mostly cheery or fast-paced.

Louis is able to soothe AJ with his "alluring" music after the kid bit Ruby is an indication that the two of them will share a bond. Louis is a natural at communicating and bonding with the younger kids [another talent that's overlooked] so it's interesting that he praises AJ for being a natural at piano, as well.

But the song stutters just a bit when Louis and Clementine are in the woods together, though; "There's only one guarantee: this moment. That's the only you got, only thing any of us got. Might as well enjoy it." ...Only for Louis to compose himself and send her away.

It's only when Clementine has a gun in her face, held by Marlon, that the music isn't fun anymore; it's rainfall and thunder and the words "I thought you were more than that" sung through the wind in a melody only Louis can hear.

Then Marlon's dead. The song is over, and reality has arrived.

I've talked at length about Louis in ep2 and his vote in the past. It's one of the most compelling things about Louis' arc and romantic route. It's a tragic mistake driven by trauma and guilt. It's people simultaneously telling him to shut up and telling him to be angrier than he is. Telling him to stop burying his head in the sand when he's never been more aware of everything happening. It's AJ peering up at him with pleading eyes that Louis can't stand to look at. It's Clementine wrapping his heartstrings around her fingers and tugging just enough to hurt, but not break.

Louis missed Clementine. He says as much when Clementine admits she missed him first. I don't even know where to begin with that! I can think of no other way to describe it other than they are half agony, half hope over this... and if you get that reference, you get a gold star. I just- the ache, the tension, the conflicting feelings of finally having a quiet moment to talk but Louis not being ready yet.

Y'know how someone carved "you suck at playing" in the side of the piano? It's something you might not initially notice while playing the game, just as Louis' insecurities aren't apparent at first.. but they're carved in him; never fully healed, still scabbed and bleeding... Until Clementine offers him a bandage.

She won't clean the wound for him, but she'll be there. She'll help him figure out how to do it himself so he can heal. She'll listen to him, not belittle his feelings or pain. She'll make an effort to know his keys and notes and practice playing his song until she understands.

When Clementine chooses him to spend time with him, it's a mirror of their first time meeting... but this time, Louis plays something real: a song he wrote, one that I believe he crafted during the two week time skip... a song he wrote with Clementine on his mind, for better or worse.

If the piano is Louis' heart, he literally asks her to sit there and try to tune it, which ends up being a joke but I say she's already tuned your heart, my guy. It's there before them, changed in the warm candlelight. He plays for her and opens up about how no one actually listens, but Clementine did.

And remember, this is the night of the raid. They don't know it's coming, but they know it'll be soon. Louis understands that he could very well die, so what does he do? He carves his initial into the one thing he's always had, and he asks Clementine to do the same.

I'm sorry, how are we NOT more feral about this? Prior to this scene, the only thing we see carved into the piano, into Louis' heart, is an insult. This thing that Louis cares so deeply about, this instrument that's become so intertwined with who he is... he wants to leave his mark on it just in case he dies. A reminder that it was his and he belonged to it just as much. Something so important, and he asks Clementine to carve herself into his heart where no matter what, they will be immortalized together in this moment.

And when Clementine carves a heart around their initials? Yes, his reaction is very cute and that's great... but she's not ashamed of him, or her feelings for him. She wants everyone who looks upon his heart to know that. She tells him how she feels and Louis is so giddy, and warm, and he names the song after her and I am going to start biting anything that moves, I can't-

Oh, and let's discuss the party scene in episode three, shall we? Y'know, where the heart covered initials are on full display? Where Louis tells the story of why he was sent to Ericson to everyone?

Louis is so... vulnerable. Sincere. Ashamed of what he did. This is the exposed nerve, the one he was so afraid of showing Clementine but there it is... and she doesn't reject him. Sure, she can say it's fucked up if you choose to, but she doesn't break up with him over it.

Also the fact that everyone sitting around him finally listens when he's at his most unshielded only for Tenn to ask him to play Don't Be Afraid for them after...? How do you not see the connection? Are you trying to make me cry? In that moment, Louis' heart was heard and appreciated and beautiful and strong and-

Listen. I am fine. I'm so normal about this. And fine. I'm fine.

But I also have to add that during the walk in episode four, if you let Louis choose what to add to the imaginary house, he picks a brand new piano because he wants a new heart to reflect the confidence and growth Clementine helped him achieve and because he loves her and AJ so much that wants the new heart to not just be his but also theirs and I am so fine with this, okay.

[ananxiousgenz]

pssst. pssssssst. hey guys. look at what i got y'all (IT'S MORE JARTHUR COWBOY AU)

this one comes with several pieces of info you need to know first:

@percymawce-arts and I are writing this fic together!!! we have entered into writers matrimony for this fic and we are super excited about it!! I wrote the bare bones of the scene you're about to read and he added almost all of the flavor and spice (while i was laying on my bed in the family guy dead pose bc of how good he made it). make sure to go show percy some love for this too!!

this scene takes place after one where john and arthur chase after larson, but arthur refuses to shoot him, and john is more than a little pissed off about it.

and some trigger warnings: this scene contains some fighting (both verbal and physical), child abuse, religious trauma, homophobia, and some suggestive themes

and finally, i will tag @ellamenop and @izel-reblogs bc i have a feeling you will both enjoy this :)

“What,” John snarled, slamming the cabin door shut behind him, “the fuck. What was that?!”

“None of your business,” Arthur replied, ever so prim and fucking proper. He kept his back to John, maybe to hide his face, so John couldn’t read him. Maybe because he was too much of a coward to meet John’s eyes after that stunt. John didn’t care what the reason was. It was only pissing him off more.

“No. Fuck that. It's all my business.”

“I didn't fire a gun. How is that making you upset?”

“You had him right in front of you,” John rumbled, his voice as low and dangerous as thunder on the horizon. Arthur shivered. “And you let him go. You had the opportunity to kill him. To end this, all of this. And you let it slip through your fucking fingers.”

“Maybe I didn't want to kill him.”

“What the fuck does that matter? He's too goddamn dangerous to be left alive!”

“It's not that simple, John-”

“The hell it is! I’m sorry you feel conflicted or whatever it is that’s going on in that head of yours, but this isn’t about you! All you had to do was fire the fucking gun. He was right in front of you, and you didn't shoot!”

“No, I didn't!”

“Why?!”

“You want to know why?” Arthur shouted, whipping around to face John, at last. “Because I can't kill another person! Even someone as awful as Larson! I’m not like you! This isn’t easy for me, alright?!”

As soon as the words had left his mouth, Arthur’s face fell. John could see the regret wash over his face like a cloud over the burning sun, but it only lasted a moment before he was collecting himself. Putting on that same mask of polite-until-you-fuck-with-me he always wore around suspects and targets. John had never had that face turned on him before. He hated it.

“So that’s what this is about,” John murmured, his tone dark. “You think it’s easy… You think I’m a monster, and you’d rather let Larson go free than be like me.”

“No, John, that’s not-”

 “Who do you think made me that way?” John snapped. Arthur’s mouth closed so fast John heard his teeth click. “It was him, Arthur. It was Larson. And thanks to you, he’s going to go and do it to another lonely, scared Native kid with nowhere else to go!” John chuckled humorlessly. “Christ, Arthur, If that’s what you thought of me, why didn’t you just say it at the start?”

Arthur threw up his hands in frustration. “That’s not what I think of you, John. Jesus, am I not allowed to have a minor moral crisis over shooting a man?!”

“He’s not just a man! He’s a gangster! A robber! A killer! You told me so yourself!”

“So are you, John.”

“Yeah, and you shot me for it,” John reminded him. 

Arthur growled and slammed his fist down on the mantle of the fireplace beside them, hard enough that John could feel the vibration travel through the floor. “Jesus fucking Christ, John, I wanted to let the law deal with him! Is that so hard to understand?!”

John took a step in Arthur’s direction. “Oh yeah? The same law that ripped me away from my family and home? The same law that turned me into a monster? Too little and too much for everyone all at the same time? The same law that drove human beings off of their lands and into reservations? That killed thousands of people like me?”

“The criminal law would have placed Larson in jail. Like he deserved.”

John scoffed and crossed his arms. “You think the law cares that he deserves it, Arthur? The law is punishment for those who don’t deserve it and ignorance for those who do. There’s no justice in it.”

“What, so that means it’s your job to deal it out?”

“Yes!” John yelled. “If it means he can’t hurt anyone any longer, then yes. And vigilante justice works a hell of a lot faster than the court system will ever manage!”

“I thought you were trying to be a better man, John.”

“I was trying to be like you,” John said venomously. “My mistake.”

That was the final straw. Arthur took a step forward without warning and swung his fist as hard as he could. It made contact with John’s ribs (he could feel them shift beneath Arthur’s fist), and John made a soft oof sound as the wind was knocked out of his lungs and he was knocked into the fireplace mantle, the corner of it digging into his shoulder. 

The fight that followed was chaotic and messy in a way John had never experienced before, and when he tried to think back to it, it would only be preserved in blurry snapshots, like someone moving in the middle of a photograph. Arthur grabbed John’s braid and pulled. John clawed a deep gouge into his arm. He drew blood. Arthur twisted John’s arm. John cracked Arthur’s rib. Arthur knocked John’s legs out from under him, causing them both to go sprawling onto the floor. Arthur punched. John slapped. Arthur bit. John pinned. And then paused. And then…

In the midst of the fighting, John had ended up on top of Arthur, straddling his waist while pinning both wrists with one hand and grabbing a fistfull of Arthur’s shirt with the other. Both of them had frozen, the only movement the rapid rise and fall of their chests. Their noses were nearly touching, and John could feel Arthur’s breath fanning across his lips, staring into those dark, dark eyes. They weren’t so dark, John realized as he looked into them. They were brown, lovely and warm, with scattered flecks of gold and green nestled deep inside. Hidden gems, wide and wild with adrenaline, flicking back and forth across John’s face without any point of focus.

John’s eyes flicked over the rest of Arthur’s face. Freckles smattered across his nose and cheekbones. Loose strands of auburn hair falling messily across his forehead. The crooked corners of his nose from being broken one too many times. Smile lines beside his tired eyes. Lips like flower petals, soft and pale. Slightly parted and inhaling, exhaling. At some point, John realized he had let go of Arthur’s shirt and was cradling Arthur’s face oh-so gently as he examined it, dragging his thumb lightly over his cheekbone, caressing it. Down the bridge of his nose to his lips, his perfect lips. Arthur remained as still as stone, barely even breathing as he stared blindly back at John.

Somewhere behind the haze of the moment, John wondered subconsciously what would happen if he kissed Arthur. Because, the truth, he realized, was that deep down, in the pit of his stomach, he wanted. He wanted Arthur, in a way he had never wanted anyone else before. He wanted to be close to him, close like this. Closer than this. To be around him always, to hold him, to kiss him. 

What would happen if he took what he wanted instead of what he was told, for once?

He hesitated when he heard Arthur’s breath hitch.But then, when no resistance came, he leaned his head down ever so slightly (there was barely any bridge to gap, by that point), and then he was kissing Arthur. And it was like the world had been set ablaze.

As he pressed his lips against Arthur’s, every nerve in John’s body was alive. It felt like a jolt from a live wire, like a burst of fireworks that would light up the sky on the Fourth of July, like the sparking tang of gunpowder before the shot rang out. It felt like energy, pure and bright and hot and lighting him up from the inside. He felt Arthur’s body respond in kind, arching up to create a line of contact that started at their hands and continued all the way down to their tangled legs, making John shiver. He tasted like whiskey, sweet and sharp beneath the campfire smoke and aftershave, and John marveled at how such a strange and sinful combination could taste like it had just come down from heaven.

He kissed harder, chasing the taste. He nipped at Arthur’s lip hard enough to draw blood, adding a coppery tang to the kiss and eliciting a small moan from the back of Arthur’s throat. It only made John want more. He kissed him again, and again, and again, Arthur’s lips and tongue moving against his with a practiced skill that made John dizzy. He kissed him until his lips were swollen and his head was swimming with nothing but Arthur, Arthur, Arthur. He only pulled away when his chest was burning and there was no choice but to come up for air.

Arthur’s face was flushed, his eyes wide and twinkling. “Oh God.” His voice was hoarse. “Oh, Jesus fucking Christ, John.”

And an unbidden memory surfaced in John’s mind. 

He was back in boarding school, sitting for a mandatory midnight mass in the chapel, his posture ramrod straight. The priests had always been so particular about those masses. There was to be no slouching or fidgeting, and God alone could help you if you dozed off. John had been kneeing in one of the pews, focusing all of his attention on keeping his posture perfect and his eyes open and remaining somewhat alert. 

In the midst of silent prayer, one of the priests, a Father McKenna, had thrown open the doors to the chapel, and dragged another boy up before the altar by his ear. 

The boy had tears streaming down his disheveled face and his nose was red from crying, but the thing that struck John the most about him were his eyes. He just looked so… tired. Not the kind of tired that John was fighting, the kind where a seductive sleep was lingering at the corners of his vision, waiting for him to blink or close his eyes in “prayer” for a second too long. This boy looked like the kind of tired that shot through his bones and grew like rot and rust with every passing day, the kind that only shuffling off this mortal coil a bit too soon could cure.

Father McKenna said the boy had been caught ‘with’ another, with a fury in his eyes that made John wonder in the back of his mind if he had been possessed by the devil. He’d been too young to know what it meant to be ‘with’ another boy at the time, but he knew it must be evil. Father McKenna threw him down in front of the altar, and the boy- John vaguely recognized him to be a child named Alexander- just knelt with his head bowed, like he had accepted his fate before Fate came to dole it out.

Father McKenna was not pleased by this. He smacked the back of Alexander’s head. Hard. He didn’t respond. He picked up a hymnal and smacked him harder still. And still, nothing. 

The priest was trembling with barely concealed fury now, and there was a steady pit of dread opening up in John’s stomach as he began to eye the doors, the windows. Any potential escape from the devil and the punishment that awaited him.

But there was no escape, there never was. So John sat, quietly, and watched as Father McKenna began to beat Alexander.

It was horrible, but somehow John couldn’t tear his eyes away, not even as Alexander’s screams tore through his ears and began to echo off the vaulted ceilings, pleas to stop and promises to never do it again ringing in John’s mind. Not even as the boy’s blood began to stain Father McKenna’s hands and drip onto the marble stairs, as vivid and crimson as sacramental wine. Not even as two of the altar boys had to drag Alexander’s barely conscious, barely breathing body down the aisle and out to the hospital wing.

John was trembling by the end of it. He felt like he was going to throw up. He dreamed of that moment for weeks afterward, never able to sleep without witnessing another religious sacrifice, another crucifixion, another martyr behind his eyelids.

Suddenly back in the present– but not really, never fully out of the past– John scrambled back off of Arthur and pressed his back against a wall, wide-eyed and sweating in sudden, sickening fear. In another life he might have missed the feeling of Arthur beneath him, his waist between his thighs, his lips against his. But nothing could permeate that fear. Nothing would ever be bigger than the fear.

“Wha– John?” Arthur asked. There was fear in his eyes too, but it was different. It wasn’t fear of hell or Father McKenna or whatever had become of Alexander. It was fear for John. It was concern. John closed his eyes against it. “John, what’s wrong? What–,” “Shut up.”

“What?”

“Just, be quiet!” John snapped. “Please, please, just–,” his voice broke. He squeezed the bridge of his nose between his fingers, trying to stave off an oncoming headache. 

“Okay…” Arthur said, quietly. Gently, so cruelly gentle. John could feel the beginnings of tears burning behind his eyes. He squeezed them shut tighter. “Okay.”

“This…” John started. He didn’t want to say it. He knew there would be no coming back from it. No more fireworks, no more whiskey on flower petal lips. Never again would he be so close to Arthur Lester if he said it. But that was the point wasn’t it? Make distance.

Take what he was told, never what he wanted.

“This was a mistake,” John said, firmly. A lie, of course. Inside, his very soul was shaking. The strings of his heart were trembling in a tragic vibrato, a song with no recipient. But he’d always been good at lying. He stood, tossing his braid over his shoulder and brushing the dust of his shirt (his wrinkled shirt, stained with a speck of Arthur’s blood). “It never happened.” He didn’t look at Arthur, because he was a coward. He was everything Arthur thought he was, so he didn’t look him in the eye when he said:

“If you ever so much as mention this, to anyone, I won’t hesitate, Arthur.”

He opened the door to the cabin, ready to step outside, leaving everything he’d never known he’d wanted behind. 

“I’m not you.”