#that's what i love about them it's not your typical city girl is taught the meaning of life by small town boy

[ghostboneswrites2]

Hello! First of all I love your stories so much💖 and hope you're having an amazing day. I wanted to ask if you could write something with this, feel free to decline if not 😊

I have this idea of Daryl and the reader being a thing before the apocalypse, Merle hated his girl and left her closed in a place with loads of walkers around without D knowing(something similar to what happens to him in Atlanta) but she manages to escape and survive thanks to what D has taught her. The group at the prison helps her after finding her tiredly fighting some walkers close to there. D and M are in the woods and the scene of D's back comes and says that the reader was his saviour for staying with him even after that and that they were planning to escape and get married. They arrive at the prison and she punches M in the face and well says to D everything that happened. M gets to see how D gets around Reader and before leaving the prison says to reader to take care of his bro and "sacrifices" himself going to fight the governor, D and r found him already turned and they both cry, promising to take care of each other.

I love the detail here! Plz forgive me, this turned out way longer than I intended. Nearly 5k words! I hope I did your vision justice! It was getting pretty long so I had to cut and tweak some things but I tried make sure to include all your key details!

Separated

Summary: You and the Dixon brothers are on your way to Atlanta to find that refugee center you heard about on the radio before they stopped broadcasting. When your journey is interrupted and you and Merle get separated from Daryl, Merle impulsively leaves you trapped and stranded in fear Daryl would choose you over him if it came down to it. When you're reunited with your love, you face tragedy together.

Note: There are some time jumps here. They're labeled to hopefully avoid confusion. Also some canon dialogue <3 A lot of your backstory with the Dixons wasn't totally necessary but I was trying to create a ~vibe~

18+ MDNI || Warnings: profanity, TWD typical violence, canonically moral deficient character, death and dying, mentions of alcohol and pills

the way he cowers and shrinks away from Merle's walker makes me cry every time omg

Then:

        Things went south so fast. The three of you were traveling relatively trouble free. The guys could hunt, and Daryl had taught you a thing or two yourself, so food was never an issue. Finding water wasn't as hard as it would be later down the line. All the supplies left in homes and stores hadn't been completely ransacked yet. It was the beginning of the outbreak. With Merle's truck, Daryl's bike, some weapons and supplies, and the general survival skills you were learning from the two of them, fleeing to the city to find that refugee center had been as easy as something like that could get, until the water ran out.

        It should have been an easy pit stop. The town was small. Your grandma would have called it a 'blink of an eye' town, because when you passed towns so small on a trip they'd fly by in the blink of an eye. There was a general store right on the corner, so that was where you decided to start the search. Just some water, maybe first aide and booze. Who knew what you'd find? The truck was parked right outside the store. Daryl wanted a smoke. He said he'd meet you and Merle inside. Then the growls started. Daryl could hear them from a distance, so he knew it was a big herd. 

        None of you had had much trouble with the big groups of them yet. So far, maybe ten or fifteen at a time. You killed the ones that got too close and fled as fast as you could. No unnecessary risks, that was the rule. Merle always said if he died it would be from something cool like a police shootout or a bank robbery. He refused to go out the way those things took people out. Daryl always said he'd shoot himself before he let them get the chance to eat him alive or turn him. He'd never be a walking corpse. You? Daryl always said you were too pretty to die. You just said you were too much of a badass. 

        Daryl popped his head inside. There were only two freaks inside and they were easy enough to take down, so you and Merle were just looting by then. 

        "Incoming. We gotta head out." Daryl announced.

        "Just a second, baby brother. I'm lookin' for the whiskey." Merle said.

        "Ain't got time for that. I can hear 'em comin'." Daryl insisted. You zipped your bag up with everything you had found so far, including the water, and walked toward your broody boyfriend with a half smile.

        "There were exactly three waters left. How's that for good luck?" You said to him.

        "Why'd'ya think I keep ya 'round? You're my good luck charm." He winked before slapping the window to get Merle's attention. "C'mon, man! No unnecessary risks!" 

        You slipped past Daryl and stepped outside, throwing your bag in the bed of the truck. You could hear the moans and groans. You turned your attention in the direction of the noise and you could see the heads peeking up over a hill. Your eyes grew wide as your heart sped up.

        "Uh... Guys? We gotta go!" You called out, not taking your eyes off the herd that was slowly coming into view. You had never seen so many of them.

        "Merle, come on!" Daryl was growing more aggravated and impatient as the seconds ticked by. 

         Daryl jogged back to the truck just as Merle was emerging from the little shop. With no sense of urgency in sight, Merle just looked over the bottle of Jack he had found as he casually strolled over to the driver's side. You scooted into the middle seat and Daryl hopped in the passenger spot and slammed his door shut.

        "Hurry up, man!" Daryl urged his brother. 

        Merle grumbled some smartass remark about being afraid of 'a few dead bodies' as he cranked the engine and hit the gas, speeding away.

Now

        You were so sore. So exhausted. So ready to just give in, but you couldn't. You refused to give in that easy. Someone told you once that you were too pretty to die, and you took that to heart. 

        You kept swinging your machete at them as they closed in on you. You were cornered between a building and a fence. What the hell were you supposed to do now? You had no idea, but you were determined to figure it out. You had gotten yourself out of worse situations.

Then

        "Gon' have to circle back somewhere to get back on the interstate." Daryl informed, looking at the map.

        "I don't need a second driver." Merle waved him off. You rolled your eyes. You were glad to be surviving something so scary with the man you loved, but the third wheel was getting hard to live with. 

        "Whatever, man." Daryl huffed, turning his attention to the window instead of paying his brother any mind.

        You kept your attention on the rearview mirror, relieved to see the herd fading away as the truck rolled forward. Those things really freaked you out, especially when they were all together like that, stumbling and bumping into each other carelessly.

        A mile or so down the road, you heard a loud pop and the engine started to sputter. "Ah, hell." Merle sighed. 

        "What?" Daryl asked, leaning forward to see his brother.

        "Gas is empty." He replied, looking down at the dash.

        "Are you kiddin' me?" Daryl asked incredulously. "Ya didn't think to check before?"

        "I did check, but I thought we'd be back on the interstate by now. Plenty o' cars to siphon a li'l fuel from back there." Merle defended. 

        "Hate to raise the stakes even higher here," you interrupted. "But, that herd is gonna be catching up soon, so we need to figure something out."

        Merle shot you a sideways glance. If it was up to him he would have just left you back home and fled with his brother, but Daryl insisted on picking you up. Now, he couldn't even hop on his bike with his baby brother and sail away to safety because there wouldn't be room for you and Daryl would never agree. He wasn't the greatest brother, but he wouldn't leave Daryl behind either.

        "Wha's that?" Daryl suddenly asked, breaking the tense silence as the three of you considered your pressing circumstances.

        You both turned your attention to what the archer was pointing out. Just beyond the treeline was a small wooden structure. Some kind of shack. 

        "A house?" You wondered.

        "Nah. Shed or somethin'." Daryl figured.

        "Maybe we can hide there and let the freaks pass by. They're pretty stupid, right? Maybe they'll just keep going straight if we don't draw their attention." You suggested.

        "Won't even know we're there." Daryl agreed.

        "Well then let's quit the yappin' and get over there before they see us." Merle drawled as he pushed his door open. Daryl got out and offered you a hand while you stepped out of the truck. Your posh parents never liked him much, but they never saw what a gentlemen he could really be. You had cut ties with them long before the dead started roaming.

Now

        You were beginning to think maybe this was really the end. It really wasn't that many. Seven at the most. But you were just so tired. You lazily swung the blade into a skull and struggled to yank it out. You had climbed on top of a dumpster, so at least they couldn't reach you, but you were still trapped until you could get rid of them. You wondered how stupid it would be to take a quick nap. Surely one of them would reach you eventually. You decided against it.

Then

        Without any spoken agreement, the three of you grabbed any supplies you thought you'd need and jogged over to the dilapidated structure. It was vacant and smelled faintly of mildew and rotting wood.

        "It'll do." Merle sighed.

        "Do? This is a mansion compared to the truck." You remarked, stretching your body. You were stiff from so much sitting. 

        The three of you watched silently through the cracks in the door as the herd stumbled by with their swinging arms and dragging feet. The smell was something you couldn't get used to, and with so many of them, it was strong. You gagged quietly. Daryl rubbed a hand up and down your back when he noticed.

        The three of you really thought you were fine. You outsmarted the dead ones and soon you'd be on your way again. You had never been so wrong about anything before.

        Merle got a little too comfortable given the situation. He went and dug through his duffel for his whiskey. He had been drinking so much you wondered if his piss could get someone drunk. The entire time you'd been on the road with them, the man had managed to find liquor everywhere he went. There wasn't a single day he hadn't been drunk, and if there had been, you were sure he'd have a stash of pills to keep him feeling nice. You guessed you couldn't blame him. Shit was rough nowadays.

        When Merle found the bottle he dropped it and it shattered. After giving Merle a look that could kill, Daryl turned his attention back to the herd. A few of them were veering off. The sound had caught their attention. Only a few heard, but as they started walking toward the shed, more followed. 

        "Shit." You whispered. 

        "This place ain't gon' hold." Daryl added.

        "My Jack." Merle complained.

        "Hell with your booze, man." Daryl scoffed as some of the dead started to claw at the outside. "We gotta go."

        "Go  where, baby brother?" 

        "We could take down the few that are at the door and break for the truck."  You thought.

        "Nah, too many on the road. But we can run off that way." Daryl nodded toward the back of the shed.

        "Okay." You nodded, throwing your bag over your shoulders and readying your machete.

        Merle haphazardly hooked his duffel and cocked his pistol.

        "No guns. Too loud." Daryl reminded him.

        "Relax. It's a last resort." Daryl shrugged, tucking it unto his belt. With a nod to each other, you and Daryl kicked the door open and took down two walkers. Merle was right behind you.

Now

        Tires screeched from ahead. You looked up and saw a car. A woman and a man got out of the vehicle and rushed over, taking down the walkers with ease and precision. Gee, you thought. Bet it's nice to have someone that has your back. 

        The couple walked over to the dumpster and eyed you cautiously, glancing at each other. "You okay?" The man finally asked.

        "Could use an espresso." You quipped.

        "What's your name?" The woman inquired.

        "(Y/N)." 

        "I'm Maggie." She introduced. "This is Glenn."

Then

        Only using your energy on the ones closest, the three of you darted deeper into the woods. They followed, because they saw you and now they wanted you. 

        Only, there were more in the trees than you anticipated. Usually the woods were pretty clear save for a few stragglers here and there. These woods were not. You wondered why, but there was no time to guess. You just kept running.

        Eventually there were just too many. Daryl got pushed further and further away as more and more emerged from behind trees. When you realized you couldn't see him anymore you called for him.

        "Quiet girl! He can take care o' himself. You're drawin' more to us!" Merle hissed. You reluctantly obeyed, because you knew he was right. Daryl probably evaded them somewhere and would meet you both back at the truck.

        When the running began to take its toll and your chest started to burn, you put more of a focus on searching for somewhere to hide. To your advantage, there was an overgrown cabin not too far ahead. erle peered over his shoulder.

        "We're losin' em. Let's get inside an' wait 'em out. Daryl 'll meet us back at the truck when it passes." He strategized well for his inebriated state.

        "Okay." You breathed, just grateful for a chance to stop and rest.

Now

        "Need some help? Maggie asked, offering you a hand as you slid off the edge of the dumpster.

        "Thanks." 

        "You have a group?" Glenn wondered. Maggie gave him an unsure look. You noticed Glenn looked pretty beat up. You wondered what happened.

        "No." You said lowly. You did have people, but you were left behind. 

        "Well.." Glenn trailed off, looking to Maggie as if to silently ask what they should do with you.

        "You can come with us. Can't promise you can stay though." She spoke up.

Then

        The cabin had been vacant for a long time. Some of the old dusty furniture remained so you both sat down and just breathed. You handed him a water bottle and sipped on one for yourself while you waited. It felt like hours had gone by. It had grown dark out. Merle peeked out of the window. There were a bunch of them all around, but they had no idea the two of you were in there. It seemed like they lost their lead and just stopped, staggering around in the same spot. 

         "There's a lot of 'em, but they ain't payin' attention. I say we leave out the back an' sneak back toward the road." Merle suggested. You thought for a second. 

        "Yeah," you nodded. "Okay." 

        Just as you passed it by, Merle suddenly shoved you in a closet and shut it behind you.

        "Merle, what the fuck, man?" You complained, banging at the door. It wouldn't budge.

        "Quiet, now. Don't wanna draw in any unwanted attention." He taunted. You sighed.

        "Merle, c'mon this isn't funny."

        "'Fraid it ain't a joke, Darlin. Truck's outta gas an' my bike only carries two."

        Your heart sank.

        "Daryl isn't just gonna leave without me." You reminded.

        "He won't have a choice when I tell 'im 'bout how them dead ones took ya down." He mockingly lamented. "It was just terrible, ya know? They grabbed her. I couldn't pull'er away in time before they got to chompin'."

        "The hell, dude? Don't do this!" You begged, banging at the door again.

        "Look. Ya got your bag in there, got your weapon, got your wits. You'll figure it out." He reasoned.

        "Not if I'm trapped!" 

        "I'm sure you can kick that slab o' wood down if ya try hard enough." He was getting further away by the sounds of it. "Jus' try not to be too loud. Don't want 'em hearin' ya."

Now

        "I'd be grateful." You admitted. "I haven't had anywhere to rest in a while. I have some medicine here I'd be happy to share in exchange for a good night of rest."

        "Watcha got?" Maggie asked.

        "We actually came out her for medicine." Glenn added.

        "Some antibiotics, some Benadryl, some stuff for pain. Oh, and I found an EpiPen. I'm allergic to bees, so." 

        "Antibiotics is what we need." Maggie said.

        "Yeah, whatever you need. Thanks again."

        They still hit a few stores while you rested in their car. Maggie made sure to grab the keys just in case you tried anything, but you were too tired to try even if you wanted to. When they had found everything they thought they'd need for the prison, they drove you back. Rick and the others were apprehensive, with everything happening with Woodbury and recently losing one of their best fighters. Daryl was also their hunter, their tracker, and generally someone they all relied on.

        You explained to them that you were traveling with some people to Atlanta but they left you behind and you'd been on the move ever since. "I'd be glad to sleep outside if it makes you more comfortable." You said to Rick. "I can leave in the morning. I just really need somewhere to sleep."

        Rick studied you for an uncomfortably long time before he asked, "How many walkers have you killed?"

        "Walkers?" You asked. You'd never heard that term before.

        "The dead." He clarified.

        "Oh... I don't know, really. A lot."

        "How many people have you killed?"

        "None." You said honestly. "But there is one person I might beat to death if I ever see him again."

        "Why?" 

        "He left me stranded, surrounded by the dead."

The Next Morning

        Rick let you sleep in a separate cell block. He let you know you'd be locked in for a the night but that he'd come get you in the morning to talk. You didn't really care. You just wanted rest. 

        When he came and got you that morning you were offered a warm meal, which you gladly accepted. You made sure to give them the majority of your antibiotics as a show of gratitude. 

        Meanwhile, deep in the woods, two rednecks were hashing it out. Name calling, shoving, whatever it took to unleash all the pent up frustrations they had between each other.

        See, in all that time Daryl spent with Rick and their group, he began to find a side of himself that was suppressed with his brother around. The only person to ever make him believe he could be good was taken from him before they made it to the quarry. Merle, on the other hand, only represented everything that Daryl was trying to put behind him. Merle was capable of hurting good people or looking the other way instead of helping someone in danger. If only Daryl knew some of the things Merle had really done.

        "There was a baby!" Daryl defended as Merle laid into him for risking his own ass to save a family on a bridge.

        "Oh, otherwise ya woulda just left 'em to the biters." Merle retorted.

        "Man, I went back for ya. Ya weren't there. I didn't cut off your hand, neither. You did that. Way before they locked you up on that roof. You asked for it."

        "You know what's funny to me? Hmm? You and Sheriff Rick are like this now." Merle said, locking his two fingers together. "I bet you a penny and a fiddle o' gold you never told him that we were plannin' on robbin' that camp blind."

        "It didn't happen!" Daryl snapped. "And we woulda never had to if ya didn't let the truck run out o' gas! And my girlfriend wouldn't be dead!" Daryl's chest was heaving as his eyes stung, threatening to spill fresh tears at the thought of her. Merles eyes flashed something Daryl couldn't quite decipher.

        "It didn't happen 'cause I wasn't there to help you!"

        "When we were kids.. Who left who then, huh?" Daryl frowned.

        "What? Huh, is that why I lost my hand?" Merle rasped.

        "You lost your hand 'cause you're a simple-minded piece o' shit!" 

        "Yeah?!" Merle lost it. He grabbed Daryl by the shirt. "You don't know!"

        When Daryl fell to the ground, his shirt ripped down the back. Merle froze. His chest felt tight as he stared down at the gruesome scene left on Daryl's back from years of abuse at the hands of their father. "I -- I didn't know --"

        "Yeah, ya did." Daryl's voice cracked as he pushed himself to his feet. "That's why ya left. But (Y/N), she never left. She was always there, man. Always. She was the one who saved me. She protected me. Not you, man!" He wiped a tear as he took a breath between heated words. "We were gon' run away, gon' get the hell outta that town and get married, maybe start a family. I don't know, and I never will thanks to you!"

        He did blame his big brother for the loss of his love, but not in the way that he should have. He blamed Merle's clumsiness, carelessness, and negligence. He had no idea that Merle trapped and abandoned you.

Later

        Daryl went back home to the prison. Merle couldn't stand too watch him leave, so he followed. Guilt was starting to eat at him, gnawing away at his insides, mouthfuls at a time. He almost felt nauseous hearing about you and what Daryl had planned with you. He tried to imagine his battered baby brother in a nice little house with a wife and kids. Hell, he even tried to picture it for himself, but the image wasn't clear enough for it to seem possible. All either of them had ever known was violence and loneliness. That was why they needed each other. That was why he had to get rid of you.

        You had just finished a tour of the prison. Rick told you that you could stay for a while, but he didn't know if he trusted you as one of them. He shared a little about a rival community with a crazed leader. You understood. You never expected to stick around, even if they offered. You couldn't see yourself trusting anyone after what Merle did to you.

        You were sitting in the cell you slept in the night before, sharpening your machete and thinking about the things that you couldn't change. You heard distant voices echoing from the other block. It was some sort of confrontation from the sound of it. You snuck over to the cellblock where everyone stayed and peeked around a corner. Glenn and Maggie were blocking most of your view, but they seemed to be the most pissed off. Rick was off to the side trying to mediate.

        "You can't let him stay. Not after what he did to Glenn!" Maggie demanded.

        "He goes, I go."

        You stopped breathing. That voice sent chills up and down your spine. 

        "Okay." Rick held his hand out, attempting to set forward a solution but the room fell silent as you stepped into view. Merle noticed you first. He looked like he had seen a ghost.

        "Well, I'll shit bricks." He murmured in disbelief.

        "(Y/N)?" Daryl breathed, almost inaudibly. Your eyes were welling with tears as you stood just feet away from the man you loved.

        Daryl dropped everything and ran over to you, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you up. You couldn't even hug him back because your arms were trapped under his. All you could do was let out something between a giggle and sob.

        "Daryl." You whispered. Your body felt so perfect against his, just how he remembered. Then, it dawned on him. He set you down and turned to look at Merle, a blend of betrayal and fury flooding his eyes.

        "You said she was dead!" Daryl growled. 

        As everyone around you watched the scene before them unfold, they felt clueless. Daryl had never mentioned you because it hurt too much to bring up. Your feet began moving before you could even think. One second you were standing beside Daryl, then you blinked and you were inches away from Merle, rearing your fist back and striking his jaw with a force you didn't even know you were capable of. Merle stumbled and dropped to the ground holding his face. He moved his jaw around a little before he glared up at you.

        "Okay. I deserved that." He accepted.

        "Yeah, you did." You spat. 

        "Hold on. Someone care to explain what the hell's goin' on here?" Rick spoke out.

        You turned to Daryl, as if it was he who answered the question. You didn't care to share with the class. Daryl needed to know.

        "When we got separated in the woods.." You began, taking a breath. "Merle and I found a cabin. We hid there, waited for shit to blow over, and we were supposed to meet you back at the ruck. Merle figured you'd wait for us there."

        "And I left her." Merle admitted from behind you. You glanced back at him momentarily. You were surprised at his accountability.

        "In a closet." You added spitefully. "The place was surrounded. Took me forever to get out of there and even longer to get back to the truck. By then, you two and the bike were gone."

        Daryl's nostrils flared with rage. His fists were balled up so tight his knuckles turned white against his tan skin. His shoulders rose and fell with each heavy breath he took. He was so pissed, so hurt. The weight of the revelation had weighed him down so heavily that his boots felt like they were nailed to the ground. Otherwise, he would have lunged at his brother and beaten the teeth out of his skull. All that time Daryl spent in pain, mourning the loss of someone who wasn't gone. All because his brother didn't like her.

        "Why." Daryl growled.

        "The bike only fit two, man." 

That Night

        You sighed contently as Daryl traced little circles over your shoulder. Once it was decided to leave Merle in a cell, and everything had been explained to Rick, you and Daryl retired to his own cell to enjoy your reunion in private. He was laying on the bottom bunk, one foot crossed over the other as he stared into space, enjoying the feeling of your head on his chest and your arm and leg draped over him.

        "I missed you." You whispered, breaking a long, comfortable silence.

        "Mm." He hummed. "I mourned ya every day. I shoulda gone back."

        "Don't do that. We're together now. Don't blame yourself." 

        "Shoulda never believed 'im. I knew how jealous he was. Thought he'd get over it." He confessed. You smiled softly and nuzzled up closer, taking in a whiff of his sweaty scent.

        "Me too." You agreed. "But he left me with my bag. He didn't want me to die. I think he was afraid if only two of us fit on the bike you'd leave him behind."

        "Nah. Woulda had your sweet ass ride the handlebars." He teased, twirling a finger through your hair. You giggled, then you paused.

        "Wow. I think that's the first time I've laughed since we got split up." You realized.

        "Sure ya didn't find no boyfriends along the way?" He joked. He always did that when things felt too heavy between the two of you. You rolled your eyes, not that he could see it.

        "You say that like I've had a lot of those. We've been together since we were like, twenty." You laughed.

The Next Day

        Merle and Michonne had disappeared. You learned that the leader of the opposing community -- the Governor, as they called him -- wanted Michonne in exchange for peace, but Rick refused. Merle had likely taken her as a peace offering since he knew what the Governor was capable of.

        You and Daryl left to search for him. He took you to a spot where they had previously convened for negotiation. The two of you did a brief sweep of the area before stumbling across some walkers. You each took one down after another until you were left with only one. You froze when you registered what -- or who -- it was. 

        A sob immediately escaped Daryl as he fell backwards. You blinked back tears as you crouched down behind him and pulled him against you, rocking gently as Daryl wept. Merle's dead body clumsily pushed itself off the ground and onto its feet. You stood first, hoping to put it down before Daryl had to do it himself, but Daryl was quick to push past you. He violently shoved the corpse. It sumbled back, but it walked toward him again. Over and over Daryl shoved what was left of his brother as he cried. Tears were freeling spinning down your cheeks. 

        When Merle's body fell on its back, Daryl crawled on top of it and plunged his knife into its skull over and over and over until he collapsed.

        You wanted to intervene, to console, to be his rock, but something told you to let him get it out. He needed to. So, you waited until Daryl's blind rage simmered down and placed an assuring hand on his shoulder.

        "Wanna bury him?" You whispered.

        Daryl shook his head.

        "Okay." You relented. You glanced around your surroundings and noticed a patch of wildflowers off in the distance. "I'll be right back." You squeezed him gently before jogging over and gathering each and every flower in the patch. When you walked back over to where Daryl was hunched over Merle, he looked up at you with wet, red eyes. When he clocked the flowers, he gave a single nod and stood up beside you. You split the flowers in half and handed Daryl a bundle. The two of you placed them each individually around Merle's corpse.

        You thought back to a conversation you had with Merle the night before, when you couldn't sleep and went out of the cell to get some water.

        "Take care of my baby brother, will ya?" Merle's voice echoed through the quiet block.

        "I always have." 

"We'll take care of each other." Your vice cracked as you spoke. "Promise."

        "Promise." Daryl whispered.

Join the taglist! || Masterlist

tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck @duffmckagansbandana @celtic-crossbow

[bestygogirl]

BEST YGO GIRL: SEMI FINALS

Match 2

please use this as an opportunity to say why you like a character, not why you don't.

Propaganda under the cut!

Isis Ishtar

gorgeous, very caring sister, strong duelist, and the only woman to ever make Seto Kaiba squirm

anyways. not only as mentioned above is she the first woman to make kaiba squirm, but she was by all means going to beat him if not for the millennium rod's millennium interference. yami marik admits that she's a strong duelist with a strategy that's been working for literal years-- and given that she's not like, a professional duelist, thats pretty impressive

she also recently got some really cool meta bumps and let me point out that an "ishizu deck" now includes obelisk the tormentor-- which we knew she had prior to giving it to kaiba, but i think it only solidifies my opinion that she very much could wield an Egyptian God Card, an exclusive little club for top tier duelists

as a character she presents herself with an amazing amount of poise and grace, shes compassionate and kind and stays with mai and serenity even though she only just met them. shes struggling through living the past 5 years of her life drowning in guilt for her family's tragedy just because she wanted to make her little brother happy and shadi is a fucking liar. shes foretold her own death and marches towards it grimly but with so much love in her heart. and even then shes 20 years old and holds an important position in the egyptian government that typically requires a doctorate degree AND has been dealing with mariks off-and-on bullshit entirely by her lonesome. she also likes to flex her fortunetelling a little which is awesome i think she should do that more that scene where she tells the guy exactly how the stele is being transported was so everything

speaking of shes got such an attitude. "is it your destiny to waste my time?" iconic. never seen before will never be seen again. watch the duel between her va and joeys its so fucking funny

shes excult. shes doesnt flinch in the face of god nor death. seto kaiba and yami marik respect her. shes so sad and so sweet and battle city couldnt have happened without her.

also her parallels with kaiba are what motivate kaiba to give yugi the card he needed to beat marik.

kaiba, in duelist kingdom, was ready to jump off a ledge if yugi didnt let him through to face pegasus while trying to save mokuba out of sheer desperation to save his little brother. he KNOWS what that dedication feels like and the iron kind of will you need to have to make that kind of gamble. isis is being so fucking legit with what shes saying and he respects that and her judgement enough to change his mind and not only watch the duel, but give yugi a card that eventually helps him win, even if he has no real confidence in the odds. but theres a CHANCE, which is the same thing he taught her when he beat her in a duel. the layers its her faith that moves him to act. which is so crazy

anyway vote isis shes my best friend forever and a real rep for all the 20 year olds who honest to god did not sign up for this bullshit

Aki Izayoi

An abuse victim who isn't the perfect passive figure but gets to work through her complicated feelings about power, agency, and family. Even with Yusei's help, she is the star of the show when she learns to control her powers and reconciles with her father, it is so fun that a ygo heroine gets to take such an antagonistic role bu not be shamed for her anger

please vote for my main girl, aki izayoi. aki was led to believe she was a monster from a young age by her father, who treated her powers like it made her unworthy of love. as a result, divine was able to swoop in and take advantage of aki's low self esteem. for years, aki believed herself unworthy of love and was molded into a living weapon at the hands of authority figures in her life. she was taken advantage of, and thus when she finally comes face to face with yusei, she refuses to believe he could provide her with unconditional friendship. who would want to be around a monster, after all?

aki also nearly beats yusei TWICE in a duel, bringing it down to a single turn difference. she comes toe to toe with him, and it truly is the result of who dueled better. she remains a fierce duelist, btw. the second season, aki gets her duel runner license, and immediately nearly beats the ass of a tournament winning turbo duelist - to the point where once again, a single card is the deciding factor. that's right: she nearly won. if not for a single trap card, aki izayoi would've won.

a fierce duelist who was shaped into a loving, caring woman despite years of being beaten down by the world: aki izayoi. vote for her now on your phones.

[bisexualmcqueen]

Ok listen, I know you literally just posted about McQueen's parents, but I am already so obsessed with them and would love to know more about them!! 💙

ok so this has been sitting in my askbox since JULY (CRAZY??) and ive been thinking about it ever since. thank you for bearing with me<3 quite frankly i needed to reacquaint myself a bit longer with cars/my cars ocs after a 4 year long break!! lightning is about 43 now in 2024, which means i have 4 decades of his story to mentally keep track of (simply the flavor of autism i have). i bounce all over like a laserbeam in a hall of mirrors.

alright. oliver and donna time. blanket warning for varied implied child abuse/neglect. [background info this ask is referencing!!] ***

the very basic core of these characters is looking at lightning mcqueen and wondering how the hell he wound up all fucked up the way he did. hes got all the issues (he thinks hes sooo normal but there are so many things going on that arent right). so i invented a couple of fucked up guys to fuck him up (mildly to moderate) in his formative years.

oliver is the main culprit here. oliver mcqueen. yes- one of the core aspects of this character is "Two Of Them". what if there was Another mcqueen. imagine a second mcqueen man (dear god). he had a dad somewhere along the line. and what a guy, oh i'm sadly a bit obsessed with oliver. hes like if lightning mcqueen was Worse. hes a boomer from the boston metro area and he thinks he's cool as shit like bernie madoff doing investing fraud, trying to get rich. he thinks hes the wolf of wall street of texas. his head is completely up his own ass and hes a mean little idiot worm. hes supposed to be raising monty but all hes taught him is 'every man for himself' and how to close the door quietly. that and other things.

they live in the dallas metro area together from about 1988-1999. oli does not want to raise this kid, so he sort of just throws food and tires at him occasionally. monty spends a lot of time outside, raising hell (where'd you learn to fly like that, city boy?). typical racecar behaviors. (his teachers find him impossible to deal with often as well).

not to say that oliver is some irredeemable evil freak- hes funny, hes charming, hes a bit of a badass, hes sort of a hot pathetic mess in a funny way. he does pass on some decent traits to his son, gives him good advice occasionally. he's crazy, but he works in an office, so most of his schemes are social and criminal. i recently made an AU where he's a racer, so hoping to post more about that as i develop. (a successful oliver is much more frightening than one distracted by failure!)

this has oliver and monty vibes, oddly enough:

don't be fooled- oliver could never hold a candle to the heart of logan wolverine. oliver is a republican and he hates women (he loves women /derogatory). oliver sucks enough that lightning straightup considers doc to be his actual dad. next! ***

ah, donna. origin of abandonment issues, ring ring!

she's less developed than oliver because she exits stage left pretty early on in the story, but we still love her (or hate her, up to interpretation!) i actually recently gave her a full name even: Donna Ann SteelDust. yep, steeldust as in the mythical foundational sire of the American Quarter Horse breed. partly because texas, partly because i love horses, and partly because in the 1950's there lived a pair of quarter horses who were father and son named Doc and Lightning. and they were racing quarter horses to boot! oh, and partly because the mother of lightning mcqueen deservedly needs a badass name.

donna has monty at about age 20, with a godless charmer from faraway boston, out of wedlock, in a small community somewhere towards western texas in the early 80's. oliver is fresh out of uni and a couple years older. donna is a waitress at the local eatery. girl, your taste in men is abysmal. you can NOT fix him. traveler meet-cute gone wrong...

hes miserable enough of a partner that he is ultimately what drives donna to leave. gone in the wind one day when monty is about six. she met someone new. someone who she thinks is kinder.

she puts the tv to RSN every sunday. she likes watching races- radio when theres no tv. when monty becomes obsessed, she gets him a little strip weathers figurine when shes out of town one day that he manages to hold onto til his teen years. they sit in front of the tv and watch together, and have popcorn made on the stovetop. when lightning recalls his mother, this is the first place his mind goes.

she didnt want a kid (as in unplanned). she didnt consciously try to be a good parent (neither did oliver). but she was sweet. well, sometimes, when she wasnt being a hot mess and stirring up drama.

originally, i was going to have her die before lightning became famous. oliver was going to also be dead by now (2024). but ive got some new ideas- oliver is in prison, donna is in denial about her famous son and festering with guilt. she does not reach out to him. (latter idea from Non).

to boil them down further: donna believes in love, oliver believes in money. they go about it the wrong way. they make mistakes. (part of lightning's obsession with money is in unconscious spite of his father- he wants to prove a point, that he was doing it all wrong, he can do better, he can Win ['i'll show him!']. consciously, lightning's money worries are about his own longevity. there is no lightning mcqueen parts factory: hes some sort of rare 1 of 1 anomaly. unconsciously again: death [mortality, time lost, being forgotten] frightens him. out loud, he says wrecking does. he does not connect any of these dots fully.)

a looottt of this is in flux, these characters still need significant development. but its a story about loneliness, about escaping the cycle, about finding your wings. this is not lightning's family, this isnt where he lands. he doesnt have christmas at ma's. you cant go home again- there's no one there for you and there never was. cps doesnt save you. you find yourself.

mostly this all comes from my fascination with lightning's mysterious origin. and frustration with it. what do you mean the only in-film lore we get is "i've been dreaming about it my whole life!" and "glen elen- my first win!". all his convoluted emotional shielding (for a minute there). he jumps at loud sounds and thinks someone is shooting at him. his natural jackass behavior even after he is 'reformed.' his clearly ignored mental health concerns. he drives me insane forreal. lightning mcqueen i will dissect you and put your parts spread out on a clean workbench you bitch. i will label and graph you in 4D space. im putting you in the bee centrifuge.

gonna cap this off with a recent sketch of donna. turns out corvettes are IMPOSSIBLE to draw, send help. more info about this timeperiod/my ocs are filed under the "origin fic era" and "my ocs" tags on this blog (mostly barren at this time though. will add more.). excited to refine these characters even more as time goes on!

thank you again for the ask!

[veeisdunn]

Sneaking around

Shelby family x sister!reader

warning: period typical homophobia

context: set before season one, reader is a few years younger than Ada.

I know this isn't an original idea and is kind of overdone, but I figured since I am very very queer I might as well give it a shot.

WC: 4.1K

MASTERLIST

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It took awhile for everyone to recognise, but it was clear as day now. The youngest Shelby girl was slipping away.

Finn saw it first. The young boy idolised his older sister. Though less than a year was between them, Y/N was his world. You were there, day in day out, to offer support, advice, or generally cause trouble; until one day, you weren't.

Arthur, bless his heart, took a long time to come around. 

"But I fuck off all the bloody time and I don't see any of yous all stressed"

"This is different Arthur, it's y/n" Tommy, the replacement voice of reason.

You were barely a teenager when you first realised you were different. You had a playground boyfriend who you adored, but not in the right way. You always looked at him like a best friend, but it became painfully obvious he was dealing with some serious puppy love. He kissed you. You hated it.

You promptly ended things after that embarrassment.

As you got older, it clicked. You didn't like boys, not in that way. You looked at women the same way many men would. 

I'm fucking delusional. A looney.

The Shelby boys would tease your lack of romance, but deep down appreciated that you being single gave them one less thing to worry about.

You was all alone with these thoughts of self-loathing, until you met her.

Emma was a few years your senior and worked as a seamstress on the other side of Small Heath. You were caught in the rain together one evening, and the rest was history. You and Emma became close friends, both craving female companionship in your male-dominated lives. Your relationship escalated one drunken night in the snug of the Garrison. Most of the Blinders were in London doing god knows what, leaving the private room of the pub to you and her friend.

"Truth or dare?" Emma slurred 

You hummed, "truth!"

"Who was your first love?" 

"That's a big question." you pondered

"I've just never seen you around any men! You never even talk about them, you literally have your pick of every man in Birmingham." Emma giggled, her inhibitions getting the best of her.

"I… I just haven't found the right person yet." you quipped defensively, pouring yourself and Emman another glass.

"Maybe you're looking in the wrong place?" 

You choked on her gin. "What's that supposed to mean?”

Emma leaned back into her chair and stared you down. "I saw the way you look at the barmaid." she smirked.

shit. shit. shit.

"I think she's cute as well" Emma continued, swirling her drink around her glass.

You felt like all of the air had been ejected from your lungs. Did Emma feel it too?

"Wait. You also like women?" 

"Yes. I think they're rather more attractive" the older girl replied nonchalantly.

— 

Ever since that fateful evening, you had been "best friends" - more accurately, you were sneaking around each other's houses, stealing kisses behind buildings or under tables, and fighting the urge not to show any physical affection in public. You were enamored by each other.

This new arrangement made you fear your family, quite simply because they ran the entire city - the walls may as well have had piercing eyes following your every move. Though if the you were exposed, you didn't worry for yourself, you worried for Emma - an unmarried 20 year-old living in a bedsit above a cobbler who had no family (or gang for that matter) to come to her defense.

Y/N was certain this was one of the only laws her family hadn’t broken, and now you were walking all over it. Homosexuality, as Emma had taught you, was fully natural, but extremely illegal. Sometimes the you wished you could just be normal, but then you wouldn’t be able to spend hours gazing into your girlfriend's glowing eyes - a truly impossible predicament.

— 

The sun peaked up over the dense bog of factory smoke, darkened rays illuminating the dusty streets. Y/N took a deep breath in, halfway between a slumber and reality. 

That’s a nice smell.

Only a few minutes later did you realise that that nice smell was, in fact, Emma’s perfume and your head was, in fact, buried in Emma's chest.

“Morning, sunshine.” The older girl whispered, resting her hand on your knotty h/c  hair, attempting in vain to comb through it with her fingers.

“What time is it?” you yawned and relaxed into Emma’s gentle touch.

“Just turned seven, the bird’s woke me.” She spoke softly but the you were thrown into a panic. This was your first time sleeping in your bed and you'd slept in.

“They'll be up.” You shot up from Emma’s embrace. This revelation ruined the tranquillity of your night together. Emma hastily slipped on one of your frilly blouses and long woollen skirt, abandoning last night’s evening dress for the sake of blending in outside. You then helped your lover out of the window and onto the fence, then down to the alleyway beside the Shelby home.

“Em I’m sorry, again. I’m just scared, I don’t want anything to happen to you.” You apologised profusely, feeling ashamed that you went to such lengths to hide. 

Emma smiled sadly “No, I get it. We can’t have our fun end now can we?” She giggled playfully “I best be off, you should sleep over in my room tonight.” 

You blushed as Emma waltzed down the alley and onto the bustle of Watery Lane as if nothing had just happened. 

— 

“Aunt Polly, guess what?” Finn giggled, skipping into the crowded kitchen. The whole family, except you, were crowded around the table eating breakfast. “I heard someone in Y/N’s room!”

“Finn, that’s not funny. Go and cause trouble elsewhere.” Tommy scolded, glancing up from his newspaper.

“No!” the boy protested, grabbing his Aunt’s arm as she walked past, “I heard her talking! And I heard lots of footsteps! And the window!” he blabbed

The chorus of murmurs that filled the room ceased. 

“Y/N’s finally gotten herself a man!” John cheered, slapping an angry Tommy on the back. Across the table, it looked as if steam was pouring from Arthur’s ears.

“Boys, I say it’s a good thing. It’s time she found someone to have fun with.” Ada sighed, sensing one of her brother’s was about to blow up.

“I agree with Ada.” Polly announced, “Y/N is an adult now, she can do whatever the bloody hell she pleases”

“She’s barely 18!” Tommy slammed his paper down “she should NOT be having men sharing her bed.” Ada glared daggers into him. A floorboard creaking across the hall meant that you had accidentally announced yourself sneaking back to bed.

“Speak of the devil.” Arthur tutted. 

You apprehensively stepped towards the stairs.

Maybe if I walk slowly, they won’t see me?

“Y/N! Y/N! Who was it? When can I meet him?” Finn sang, bounding up to you, Tommy hot on his heels. 

“Who was the man in your bed?” Tommy demanded “Do we know him? Or will I have to introduce myself?” He snapped, a menacing undertone in his voice.

“THIS is why she felt the need to sneak him out!” Ada shouted over her brother, “you could at least pretend to be supportive!”

Tommy let out a sarcastic chuckle. “Okay, how was your secret fuck last night?”

“THOMAS! Cut it out. Now.” Polly could have broken glass with her shriek. “Girls, I suggest you leave. Your brothers need educating.”  

You fled up the stairs to her room. Ada followed close behind, stopping her sister from slamming the door and locking herself away. You threw yourself on the bed in despair. 

“That’s a nice dress. Did you wear it last night?” Ada tried her best to be friendly, inspecting Emma’s crimson dress hung over a desk chair.

“That’s not my dress.” You rolled over to face the wall, “it’s my friends.” you huffed defensively.

“You know, you can always borrow my dresses?” Ada settled down at the end of her sister’s bed, misjudging the situation.

“No Ada, it’s just that she wore it last night and left it here.” 

“So if one of your friends slept over, can’t you just tell everyone so they’ll shut up?”

An unfamiliar knot tied itself in your stomach. It was one thing sneaking around behind the backs of your family, lying to their faces was not something you'd considered. You opted to remain silent.

“What’s going on with you lately? You keep shutting everyone out.” Ada leaned over and looked down over her little (adult) sister with concern.

“I’m just so fucking tired of hiding.”

Ada’s the least likely to kill me.

“From what?” 

“Everyone. I am sick of living life like this.”

“Y/N, who was here last night?” Ada asked softly, catching on.

You snapped. “My girlfriend. My girlfriend was here and we slept in my bed. We didn’t have sex, we just talked.”

Ada silently gasped and took a moment to compose herself. “Look, I don’t care what you’re doing with her-”

“No, it’s not that.” tears began to well in your eyes, “it’s the fact they all probably think I’m no better than a common prostitute despite the fact they sleep with every woman they find.” 

“Oh Y/N…” Ada mumbled with a smile, “Polly will sort them out. You shouldn’t be sneaking around us.”

You was taken aback by Ada’s lack of anger. 

“Now…” Ada jumped up and picked up Emma’s dress from the chair, admiring the quality “tell me about her!”

— 

“Look Thomas, just because she is a woman and you are a man, it doesn’t mean you have more rights than Y/N.” Polly snapped, towering above her nephew.

“You just can’t seem to get it through your head, Pol.” Tommy retorted, standing from his seat, “men are bad, they can’t be trusted.”

“Yes, and you would know all about bad men Tommy, since you yourself run with the devil.” Polly squared up to him and snarled, staring into his dark eyes.

John joined the pair standing and rested a hand on each of their shoulders. “Eva is a smart girl, she probably picked someone who’s the total opposite of a Blinder. He’ll be nothing like Tommy.”

“At least if he’s a fuckin’ Blinder we can finish him off quickly.” Arthur chimed in, gripping his glass so hard it could have smashed.

“There will be no finishing of anyone off. You boys cannot sentence an innocent man to death for sleeping with Y/N. How do you think she will take that? Will she thank you? Or will she leave this God forsaken city and never come back?” Polly snapped, “It’s your decision, but it’s one you should take in a fucking heartbeat.”

As Polly berated Arthur and John sat back with indifference, Tommy stormed into the hallway and ascended the rickety stairs to your room. His mind was running at lightning speed, anger and guilt both clouding his rational brain. He had to know who this man was before he decided on his next step. Your jubilant voice and Ada’s giggles stopped him from bashing her door off its hinges.

“And when Emma kisses me, I swear my heart is going to explode.”

“Does she treat you well?”

“She’s so thoughtful. On the anniversary of Mum’s death, she brought flowers for us to throw in the cut. We sat on the edge for hours and she just listened to me ramble.”

“Oh my gosh! You lucky girl Y/N!” 

Tommy kissed his teeth and looked up at the ceiling before opening the door.

If there is a God, he thought, then please tell me what the fuck is going on.

Both yourself and Ada jumped as your older brother entered, his expression was impossible for either of you to decipher.

“Tommy, before you yell at her, can you at least think about this!” Ada begged, standing between him and yourself.

“Ada. Out. I need to talk with Y/N alone.”

Ada stepped forward “If you upset her Tommy, I’ll fucking kill you.” she threatened through gritted teeth.

Begrudgingly, after bickering some more, Ada left your bedroom and closed the door behind her. 

Thomas sighed, listening to the rapid rhythm of his pulse. Wordlessly, he picked up your desk chair and placed it next to your bed, sitting down and staring at his sister who was leant against the headboard, your knees to yourchest. You refused to meet his gaze.

“So,” He coughed, “Who is Emma?”

You traced circles into your thigh as you took a shaky breath in.

“My friend.” You mumbled

“Your friend who you shared a bed with and kissed?” Tommy raised his eyebrows. He needed to hear you say it for yourself, though, as Ada did, he’d caught on.

“I - you know, Tommy.” You sniffed your tears back.

“I need to hear it from you, Y/N. Use your words.”

“Fine. I love her Tommy! I love her more than all the girls you sleep around with. I know you don’t want me to be happy but I don’t care because I love her.” You lost it, you sat up and faced him, shouting with tears streaming down your face. The only thing stopping you from attacking him was the iron grip you were keeping on your bed sheets.

Tommy didn’t reply. He rested his elbows on his knees and held his head in his hands.

“I know you’re pissed but quite frankly I’m sick to death of being a prisoner to the men in this family. For once, I have someone who loves me for me and who doesn’t treat me like a child. If you don’t like it, I’ll fucking leave and you can be rid of me.” The words flew out of your mouth without much doubt and you couldn’t figure out if they were empty threats or if you were ready to run. Your brother’s reaction would decide that.

Silence. “So?” you spat, “when do you want me gone?”

Tommy barely registered what he had heard. He was stunned, sifting through his racing thoughts: She could be arrested, or even killed. Her reputation would be finished. What if she wanted her own life and career? Would she even be able to find a job?

He was so engrossed, in fact, that he didn’t even notice you leave in floods of tears.

— 

You were running on fumes. You hadn’t woken up prepared for any of this anguish. Your legs carried you to the one place where you knew you’d be safe - Emma. Before long, and after lots of odd looks from people around you, you'd ended up at the door of the dress shop where your girlfriend worked. 

“G’morning! How can I help?” The woman behind the counter looked up from her work at you, a fake smile on her face.

“Emma.” you panted, catching your breath, “Is Emma here? I’m her friend and it’s an emergency.”

After studying your face, the woman’s smile faded. “Emma!” She poked her head through a door behind her and called, “There is a Miss Shelby here looking for you.”

A crash, a slam, and then Emma appeared, rather flustered. If it wasn’t for your panic, you would be swooning at the sight of your lover in your clothes. 

“You should step in the back for a minute - I don’t want customers seeing you girls chit-chat.” The woman, who you had now deduced was the boss, spoke quietly. Emma didn’t respond and grabbed your forearm, leading you into the back room and closing the door.

“What happened? Why’re you crying?” Emma fretted, sitting you down at a desk.

You held back your tears in fear of getting your girlfriend in trouble. “They know.” You whispered, “My little brother heard someone in my room and they’ve all found out.”

Emma cursed under her breath, holding onto your hands so hard her knuckles went white. “Are they angry?” She whispered back, her eyes flicking to the door cautiously.

“I - I don’t know. My sister was really happy but I don’t think my brothers are. I asked Tommy if he wanted me to leave and he didn’t even say anything. I don’t think I can go back.”

The older girl walked over to a set of pegs and took a key out of a bag, handing it to you. “Go back to my room. I’ll finish at six today, then we can come up with a plan.”

“No!” You snapped in a hushed voice “You don’t understand how crazy my family are. You should leave me here and go somewhere else, it won’t be safe in the city for you anymore.”

“I’m not going anywhere without you. If you don’t think it’s safe here, then let’s both get out.”

After that exchange, you were sent on your way back to Emma’s bedsit. Luckily everyone else was at work so no one saw you run in. You were originally planning to spend the day figuring out what you and Emma were going to do come the evening, but you instead collapsed from exhaustion and slept.

— 

“Thomas Michael Shelby!” Polly bellowed, practically picking him up by his collar. “What in God’s name have you done?!”

Tommy snapped out of his haze. Y/N was gone. Polly was out for blood. Ada was crying. Arthur was having a drink - at 8am. John was gone, too. What the fuck happend?

“You were meant to comfort her! Not drive her out of the fucking house!” 

Tommy ignored his raging aunt. “I’ll get every bloody man on the street to find her.” His voice was monotone as he pulled a cigarette from his pocket.

Ada chuckled sarcastically, “John’s already onto that, got all the Blinder’s after her. He was being a brother while you were sitting on your arse.”

“SHIT” Tommy stood up and threw the pile of books from Y/N’s desk into the wall. “Shit shit shit.” And he was gone.

— 

The three brothers were out all day looking for their sister, while Polly, Ada, and Finn stayed home waiting in case she returned. She didn’t. As the night approached, the trio returned and handed over to a group of their associates who planned to search all night.

On the other side of Small Heath, you and Emma were getting ready to head out. Your plan was to sneak back to Watery Lane, get your things, leave a note, and get out. You was intending to hide in Emma’s room until you could both figure out where to go next. You took the reverse route that you had that morning, seeing that all the lights were on downstairs, but no one appeared to be upstairs. Down the alley, up the fence, onto the roof, then through the window. The one thing that you'd forgotten to consider was that somebody could already be in there. 

Ada was laying on your bed in floods of tears. The second your feet hit the floor, she shot up and screamed, bounding over. “Y/N! I thought you were never coming back!” She grabbed you and smothered her in an embrace, “Tommy didn’t mean it. He was just being an idiot. Good god Y/N I thought we’d lost you.”

Emma awkwardly slid in through the window, extremely embarrassed. At the same time, a pair of footsteps sprinted up the stairs and into the room and the door flew open. John. He looked exhausted and was too shocked to even speak, he assumed Ada was having a nightmare. On her guard, Emma stormed over to him and backed him in a corner. 

“Are you Thomas?!” She snapped, seething with anger.

John let out a sincere chuckle and smiled. “So Y/N did pick someone tough after all - I’m John, not Tommy.” Emma retreated in embarrassment.

“Sorry, I thought he’d made you cry.” She mumbled to you “I couldn’t help myself.”

“I like her, Y/N.” Ada smiled, taking a good look at the new woman in the room.

You walked over to Emma and took her hand. “You don’t need to protect me, it’s ok.” You whispered, wrapping her in a calming hug. You could feel her pulse pumping across her body.

“So you’re the girl who stole my little sister’s heart?” John enquired, relieved.

“Emma.” You spoke into the girl’s chest, “You’re hugging me too tight.”

Emma immediately let go “I’m sorry, I’m just tense.” You pecked her lips, “Better now?”

Ada awed at the interaction and took in the sight of her baby sister in love, John could have sworn his legs had turned to jelly. The moment was destroyed by another set of footsteps, Tommy entered drearily. 

John ceased his opportunity to wind his brother up. “Emma.” He announced, turning to her, “This is Thomas. Tommy, meet Emma.”

The loving embrace between you both ended as Emma stormed over to the doorway and pinned Tommy against it. Ada covered her mouth, trying not to laugh at the exchange.

“You. You fucking made Y/N cry. She’s been in my room all day crying because you couldn’t talk to her, after demanding that she ‘use her words’ you fucking prick.” she spat. Tommy lifted his hands up in surrender, shocked at this new girl’s confidence. 

“Ay, no need to shout. I came to apologise to my sister for being an arse.” 

“Honest to God Tommy, I don’t think an apology will cut it.” John folded his arms and walked towards the door.

“No. I’ll listen.” You piped up, pushing past John. “Emma, it’s ok, I promise.”

Emma shook her head and stood back. Ada took her out of the room begrudgingly and John followed, the three of them waiting outside of your door.

“Tommy, I-” You began but you were cut off by your brother engulfing you in a hug and practically picking you up.

“I’m so sorry sweetheart. I’m sorry. You can be angry at me but I’m just so happy you’re home.” He rambled, gripping you as if you were about to disappear again.

“I’m not angry, I’m hurt.” You stepped back from the hug and looked into his glassy eyes. “Why didn’t you say something, anything Tommy? I thought you were mad, I thought you hated me.” You spoke as tears fell down her cheeks.

“I - Y/N I was thinking about you. I was scared. You’re too good for this world and people won’t understand this.”

“I just wish you could have said something. Tommy you fucking terrified me.” You sniffed.

He took your hand in his and held it to his chest. “I don’t care who you love, Y/N, as long as you love. I don’t know where all that talk of me hating you came from. You could scream and shout at me, but I will never, ever, hate you. I got scared that you’d met some man like me who wouldn’t treat you well; but now I see you’ve found yourself a woman who will fight me over your feelings - a brave woman.” 

“So… you don't hate me? I thought you’d want me locked up.”

Tommy scoffed “Locked up, eh? You don’t have shell shock. You aren’t crazy. And even if you were, I'd look after you, I wouldn’t shut you away.”

You burst into relieved tears, prompting Emma to open the door. Tommy immediately stood to face her, his arms yet again up in a surrender.

“I don’t know if you heard that, Love, but I was apologising, so please don’t cut me.” He spoke, locking eyes with her pleadingly.

“Ok.” Emma sighed. “You’re forgiven, for now.” She warned. John skipped through the door cheering. “Tommy brother, we have found your match!” He laughed, “Aunt Polly will love you!”

The rollercoaster of a day came to a crashing halt as night fell across Watery Lane. You apprehensively introduced Emma to your family. John was right, Polly adored her: “Finally, another woman to help me control these feral men.”

Arthur was less expressive: “D’ya want a whisky?” Emma obliged - immediate friends.

Finn, bless his heart, was very confused - “Y/N, your boyfriend is a girl.” but he eventually figured it out.

— 

“You know,” You started, looking into the fire surrounded by your family with the woman you loved, “sometimes Em and I joke that the Shelby’s have now broken every law in the book.”

“No, I’m sure your brothers could find a few others.” Polly chuckled, leaning back into her seat, a smile plastered across her face.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

please drop me a comment or message with any feedback or suggestions! I'd love to hear from you ♡

Vee x

MASTERLIST

[nctangelz]

( 💌 ) LOADING . . . MONIQUE WITH NCT 127!

TAEYONG

MOM AND DAD!!! everyone always jokes that they are the parents / stressed mom and dad / co-leaders of NCT. taeyong said he offered the leader role to monique pre-debut, but she declined because she insisted that taeyong was the one who earned it 🥺. moni and taeyong are always seen watching in the corner as chaos begins…waiting together until they have to intervene.

tae + moni are probably the closest out of everyone in NCT, they grew up eachother living as neighbors, so they go WAY back. they love sharing stories from school to nctzens! moni always jokes that taeyong will be the one to walk her down the aisle when she marries (since yk, her dad left to get milk and never came back 💀), and taeyong doesn’t believe it…but she really does mean it! their relationship is just so precious, we love to see it!

JOHNNY

BESTIESSSSS, johnny & monique just clicked when they met as trainees, and instantly hit it off!! they bonded over the fact they were away from home, and they both taught each other things about their country! moni even successfully taught johnny how to speak in french somewhat! she accidentally switches from english to french when she’s have conversations w/ johnny, and johnny just stands there like 🧍‍♂️ i have no idea what your saying.

johnny loves to take moni on little adventures and they are always going sight seeing or going to other cities to explore whenever they have downtime! she is often a guest on JCC … even if she isn’t tagging along for the activity she finds a way to be in it, even if she’s unwilling. they always have a blast together! it’s so easy for moni & johnny to talk to each other and moni loves that she gets to relax around johnny and know she’s going to have a good time!

YUTA

THE BADDIES of NCT. lemme tell you, yuta & moni? baddest besties alive, they look like the could kill you, but actually are the sweetest duo known to earth. they are always hyping each other up and whenever they go out, they are DRESSSSEDD. they love to express themselves in anyway, and they are each other’s biggest supporters.

the two of them are always stirring the pot whenever they are eachother, they love to make stuff up and convince everyone it’s true and just mess with everyone…it’s typically doyoung or taeyong that realize their antics and in moni’s words “ruin the fun” they are also always just doing crazy things and the members are lowkey scared of them, esp moni. yuta brings out the chaotic side of her members never thought could ever exist 😭😭

DOYOUNG

doyoung just wants to worry and care for moni like a gentlemen, but moni makes it SO HARD. she’s always harassing him and making fun of him, and doyoung is just like 💀 girl be so for real rn. he would be in the middle of doing something for her like opening a chip bag and moni just starts screaming “YAH, DOYOUNG, DO YOU THINK IM INCAPABLE JUST BECAUSE IM A WOMEN? YOU DONT THINK I HAVE MUSCLES? HOW RUDE.” and doyoung is like WTF. he just looks at her with his crazy eyes and gives up 😭😭

but dw, doyoung will harass her right back and moni will giggle and say sorry. he always worries about her and makes sure she’s eating and drinking and will always try and prevent her from making self-sabotaging decisions…but does she listen? 9 times out of 10 she doesn’t but yk, he tried!!

JAEHYUN

moni is sooo affectionate around jaehyun, he just looks so cozy and comfy! whenever she sees him she loves to tackle him in a hug and lay her entire body weight on him. jae is dying while moni is in her own world, happy as could be. jae & moni are inseparable once together though, once they hang out and spend time together; there’s no going back. they will spend time together until moni passes out and takes a cat nap…and jaehyun just goes back to playing games.

moni & jaehyun are such a great team when playing games, because moni is really good at creating strategy and working out puzzles, while jaehyun has the muscle to actually execute the mission. moni always takes his strength to her advantage, for example having him carry her bags or even her when she’s super tired…not that jae minds though. he likes that moni allows him to protect her!!! if someone were to mess w/ moni…you better hide from jaehyun, he is moni’s #1 defender.

JUNGWOO

jungwoo LOVES to listen to moni. whenever moni needs someone to talk to to either vent or just talk about built up ideas in her head, she goes to jungwoo. he loves listening to his older sister talk…even if he’s worried for her mental health. he will always be moni’s shoulder to rest on! he will listen and let her talk, and then the two of them will work it out together…or just do something to cheer themselves up!

moni adores jungwoo with all her heart, she will spoil him always. if he briefly mentions wanting something one day, she’ll buy it and hide it until his bday/christmas. she would do anything for woo, and it’s so precious! all the members complain that jungwoo is her favorite because she always is doing stuff for him, and she will swear up and down she doesn’t have a favorite….but jungwoo knows he’s the favorite <3

MARK

mark is moni’s child - she’s always worried…she’s worried about his health but also worried about just how he acts. mark will say some weird stuff and moni is just standing there like 😀 should i be concerned? but besides her worries, mark makes her laugh SO MUCH. she will try and hold in her giggles..but mark makes it impossible 😭

make probably visits moni’s apartment the most out of 127, he likes to come visit after a long day when he needs to just power down and be in silence for awhile. moni always lets him crash in her bed and let him relax….she will usually just sleep on her couch or spend time in her studio. she will always make him breakfast before he leaves too! moni will always understand and let him come over when he needs to be alone…but he also comes and visits and watches movies with her! he tolerates her movies as long as she makes him food 🥺

HAECHAN

haechan will harass moni just like he will the other members, but moni just smiles and pats his head in response. moni will always have a soft spot for her younger members, and they can’t help but crumble under her love <3. moni will always be there to gently pat his head and tell him it’s okay…which causes him to be even more chaotic 💀, haechan just sticks his tongue out at moni and carries on

but haechan loves loves loves moni, he will always hug her and cling on to her, and moni just smiles and wraps him up in her arms. she took care of him and the dreamies a lot during training days because they were so young…so moni is lowkey haechan’s 2nd mom. haechan always knows he can rely on moni to save him whenever he is loosing or getting picked on too!!! moni will defend haechan until the day she dies <3

tags :: @yjjnfied

[mariacallous]

When Russia launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine, Anna Zakharova was teaching world mythology to elementary students at an elite private school in the center of one of Russia’s largest cities. Unlike typical public schools, her school wasn’t required to teach the Education Ministry’s “patriotic” lesson series or hold events promoting national pride. Even so, the Kremlin’s pro-war talking points gradually began to seep into the conversations of these young and exceptionally privileged Russian children. Zakharova told the independent outlet Holod how it all unfolded and what she did to fight back. Meduza shares a translation of her account.

The names of the children in this story have been changed.

For the past three years, I taught at a private elementary school I’d rather not name. It’s a small, well-run, fairly expensive school in the city center, and the kids have every reason to love it. There aren’t any “Important Conversations” lessons or other aggressively patriotic events there. The school feels like a secluded world — a kind of fortress where the horrors of the outside world barely seep in. Life inside goes on — if not quite as it did before, then still relatively undisturbed. They don’t discuss the war with the students; instead, there’s a lot of focus on culture and the arts. There’s even a dedicated subject for this, loosely titled “Mythology,” which is what I taught.

‘A crack in the fence’

Of course, we worry about the teenagers. We’re afraid for those who are anti-war or LGBTQ+, for those who can’t talk to their parents, who argue with classmates, who are scared to challenge teachers, who are held hostage by their families and schools. They have “Important Conversations” lessons, murderers visiting their classrooms, and their still-developing beliefs and values are being damaged in ways we’ll all have to face one day.

I didn’t think I needed to worry about my own students. I started teaching them in the gap between COVID-19 and the war, and in those first six months, I thought the worst that might happen to them was the school they’d attend for fifth grade — a place that would thrust them into a world they weren’t ready for.

In my last lesson with my fourth-graders in late May 2022, I told them the story of Prince Siddhartha — how he grew up in a golden palace, surrounded by young and beautiful servants, and how, through a crack in the fence, he glimpsed poverty, illness, and death, and how, in the end, he became the first Buddha.

By then, the war had already begun. I knew some of them might leave that summer. I read them a story recorded by the Teacher for Russia project, where a girl describes playing with her friend after school under their village’s solitary streetlight.

“I’m telling you all this, just you, because you’re fourth-graders, and you’re about to step out of your golden palace — that is, out of this school...”

“We get it.”

I don’t know if they did, but they looked at me with a hint of distrust.

‘How gods punish’

My very first first-graders: Lena, Anton, Kolya, Serezha, and ten others. It’s the middle of the second term, three months before the [full-scale] war begins.

Today, we’re discussing the goddess Leto’s children — Apollo and Artemis. Artemis, the huntress, is almost more popular with the girls than Athena, the protector of cities, while Apollo, with his endless romantic troubles, doesn’t spark much enthusiasm.

For the last ten minutes, I’ve been telling them about Niobe and her children. Like my students, there are fourteen of them — seven boys and seven girls.

Queen Niobe refuses to make offerings to Leto. She, who bore fourteen children, doesn’t want to bow to the mother of only two. But Leto’s children are gods, and gods can avenge an insult to their mother. Silver-bowed Apollo kills the boys, one by one. The huntress Artemis kills the girls. The youngest girl tries to hide in the folds of Niobe’s tunic, but Artemis kills her too.

The children sit before me in a semicircle, their faces lit by the projector’s glow. On the screen, a pale statue of Niobe shields her youngest daughter with her arms.

“What do you think — were Apollo and Artemis right?” I ask each of them, one by one, from left to right. If I’d had even one more year of experience in this (or any other) school, I might not have dared such an experiment.

“Yes, they were right.”

“Why?” I ask.

“Because they’re gods,” says one.

“Well, they’re right because she brought it on herself,” answers another.

“That’s how gods punish.”

“I don’t know; I think they’re right — they’re gods, after all.”

When I tell them, “You can disagree with the gods,” what I mean is: “You can disagree with me, with any other teacher, with any god — with anyone at all.”

‘Part of a pattern’

I have one lesson a week — 40 minutes to explore how Gilgamesh sought immortality or how Abraham nearly sacrificed his son. In truth, it’s woefully little. Naturally, we don’t discuss the war. I promise myself that if a child asks me about it, I’ll pause the lesson and answer. But they don’t ask. The oldest is 11, and I still feel I don’t need to worry about them.

In our extracurricular class, instead of medieval legends, we’re discussing The Lord of the Rings. Unlike regular lessons, this class doesn’t follow a set curriculum and is a smaller group — only those who want to come, come. The fourth-graders are reading Tolkien for the first time, while I’m rereading it. They often veer off the planned topics (Tristan, Isolde, King Arthur) to talk about the Shire or Mordor. As I join the discussion, I can’t help but feel its painful relevance, though I’m unsure if they sense it too.

Something shifts in December 2023. Or rather, that’s when I first notice it. At first, it’s just a feeling, like a faint, unpleasant smell or a constant, distant hum. I can’t catch all the details, but I hear — or maybe imagine — unsettling jokes among the older kids, random phrases from the younger ones that sound too grown-up.

The first time it happens is on a Wednesday, during the last class of the day. We’re in the playroom, cushions and poufs are scattered everywhere, and with five minutes left before we start, the boys are building a pillow fort. Serezha, sitting in the center, declares, “I’m a princess.”

Lyosha laughs. Pavlik, gathering his pillows, adds, “Lyosha, you’re a princess too,” and smiles.

Lyosha jumps up, rushes at Pavlik, and kicks hard into the cushions Pavlik is holding against his stomach. One falls. I bring Lyosha back to his cushions and the now-destroyed fort.

“Why did you do that?” I ask.

“He called me a princess.”

“We don’t respond to words with violence,” I say, starting to realize what upset him. “That’s no excuse.”

“What’s the big deal?” asks Pavlik. He doesn’t look offended and clearly just wants to sort things out.

“Well, what if I called you a girl?”

“So what if someone calls you a girl at school?” Pavlik asks rhetorically. “Besides, Anna sometimes says things like that too,” he adds, nodding in my direction and making an imaginary crown with his fingers. “’Imagine I’m the Pope, and you’re a peasant,’ for example.”

It’s true I often do this when explaining something complex. I assign the kids and myself parts to play; it’s easier for them to understand. It’s a strange outburst. Really, why is it so frightening to be called a princess?

Over time, this incident becomes part of a pattern — a series of unexpectedly aggressive reactions to offhand remarks. I don’t know Lyosha’s father, but I can imagine him teaching his son how boys should look and behave, and I have nothing to counter this imaginary person with. I see Lyosha once a week, and only to tell him about King Arthur or the Crusades.

‘We’ll bomb them all’

A couple of weeks later, the same boys settle onto the cushions. The first slide of my presentation is black, with a single white sentence in the center: “The only good they brought was that apricots ended up on European tables.”

“So, what do you think we’re going to talk about today?” I ask.

“Egyptians?” suggests Pavlik.

The fourth-grade class had guessed “Arabs or Japanese,” so I’m not exactly surprised. “Don’t you think that sounds a bit prejudiced?” I ask. This had worked with my previous group, but not here. They keep going:

“It must be about some Middle Eastern people.”

“Guys, listen to what you’re saying, please,” I plead.

“Are we talking about Jews?”

“Okay, stop. If you don’t see the issue, let’s try this: ‘The only good the Russians brought is…’”

I can’t even finish before Lyosha jumps up, his face flushed with anger: “Yeah, well, we’ll bomb them all if we have to!”

A few weeks later, in a similar situation, it’s Pavlik who shouts, “Guys, we’re Russian!” But unlike Lyosha, he finds it hilarious.

‘For Russia!’

I’m discussing the Hundred Years’ War with the fourth-graders.

“So, England wasn’t enough for this Edward?” Dima gestures at the map. “It already had everything — look, the whole south of France was England’s too. So he was just greedy, right?”

I smile. “Seems like it. That’s how it goes sometimes. Just imagine, he never even found out how the war ended. And then, after that, there was another war, an internal, almost civil war, that lasted 30 years.

Dima frowns, staring intently at the map again. “And what was Russia up to?” I don’t even have time to answer before he adds, “If only Russia had just conquered everyone back then. That’d be cool!”

Now, I’m at a loss for words. A few of the kids shout, “For our side!” and “For Russia!”

‘Ukraine won’t even exist’

“Who won the Hundred Years’ War?”

This time, it’s a second-grade lesson.

“England!”

“France!”

“France!”

“Ukraine!” yells Kostya, who loves to blurt out things like this. I know he isn’t trying to disrupt; he just wants to say something funny.

One of his classmates fires right back: “The word ‘Ukraine’ won’t even exist!”

In a normal situation, a teacher should pause the lesson and have a real conversation with the kids. A long one, not like what I did. All I managed to say was that in my class, we’d never speak that way about any country, that it’s simply unacceptable. I think I was so shaken by the fact that a second-grader could say something like that, I couldn’t find better words. So, I quickly steered everyone back to the 15th century, to England, France, and their kings.

But that’s not enough. We adults now speak in coded language. We know how to ask careful questions and interpret careful answers, to mention something offhand, to give a knowing smile and say “before things went bad,” to spot “our people” by the look on their faces. Children don’t know how to do that.

‘Our side’

In this school, first-graders learn the myths and legends of Ancient Greece. We end with the Trojan War and Odysseus’s journey. There’s Agamemnon insulting Achilles, Achilles losing Patroclus, and finally, the battle between Achilles and Hector.

“But our side won, right?” Ksyusha asks.

“Our side?”

“The Greeks.”

“Did I mention how Agamemnon nearly sacrificed his own daughter just to go to war? Or how Odysseus threw Hector’s little son off the walls of Troy?” I tell them about Hector and his family, about King Priam. I don’t have Homer’s text in front of me, but I try, as faithfully as I can, to recreate the scene where Priam begs Achilles for his eldest son’s body. But it’s really something else I want to say, about something else. I know I’m crossing into territory that might not be appropriate for first-graders.

“They’re people, just like us,” Tyoma says suddenly. “It’s not their fault they were in Troy.”

Tyoma is a quiet, reserved child, and I can’t be sure he fully grasps what he’s saying. So often, I’ve heard children bring disturbing words from home, and so often, I’ve hoped they don’t truly understand their meaning. But now, I very much hope that Tyoma does understand.

My first-graders know who Aesop is, but that doesn’t mean they speak his language. I don’t work at that school anymore, so I can’t give advice on this, not even to myself. Still, I should have been direct with them. We all need to be direct with them.

Because war touches everyone. Even the youngest, the most sheltered, the most privileged — even those in private school, those homeschooled, those living in other countries. If you have children, talk to them about this war. They already know it’s happening; they’ve grown used to it. Remind them that it’s not normal.

One day — maybe far in the future — we’ll all have to return to normal, to rebuild, to remember what a world without war can be. But for those who started first, second, or third grade this year, there will be nothing to remember. No matter how secure our lives or our children’s lives may seem, the war reaches them, too. Even the happiest child in the best of schools can’t help but know there’s a war — but they might not understand that it shouldn’t be happening.

[valsnonsense]

*cracks knuckles* It's time...

Princess Choco(late) of Pop

"Chicks dig a blacksmith!! At least that's what my friends say."

Parents: Queen Poppy and King Branch

Siblings: Vanilla (Triplet Sister), Strawberry (Triplet Sister), Apple (Younger Brother), Oran (Younger Brother), Lemon (Younger Brother), Lime (Younger Brother), Blueberry (Younger Brother), Grape (Younger Sibling), Iris (Younger Sister)

Age: 24

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Lesbian

Genre: Rock/Pop

Voice Claim: Hayley Williams (Paramore)

Princess Choco is the eldest of Broppy kids and heir to the throne. Though she's probably the most un-princess like Troll you'll ever meet.

Choco trained as a blacksmith for many years, forging weapons for the guards and protectors of Trollstopia. Shes not sure what inspired her to make weapons as a career, but the process of forging just speaks to her. The sound, the smell, the excruciating heat. It just clicks for her.

Choco spends most of her time in her forge, only coming up in the evening to eat, talk with her family, or occasionally go out to party.

She, like all the Broppy kids, is very close with her siblings and parents. Branch was the one who taught her most of what she knows about forging, since he picked up skill during his time in the bunker.

Choco is a strong-willed, stubborn, loudmouthed woman who cares deeply for her friends and family, and will go out of her way to protect them.

Despite being a pop troll, rock is where her heart lies. She loves the loud music, the even louder parties, and the absolute chaos rock concerts bring. She occasionally visits Volcano Rock City to perform with Thrash Jr.

She currently resides in Trollstopia alongside her parents and siblings.

Fun Facts!

- Keeps her hair swept back in a mullet like fashion. Annoys the hell out of her more fashion-forward siblings (which is why she doesn't change it)

- Dropped an anvil on her tail during her first year of smithing. But because she refused to stay inactive long enough for it to heal, the bone healed improperly. She braces it now, as it will start to hurt after a few hours

- Developed fire-resistant clothing with the help of Lemon, since she keep burning all hers off

- Often seen hanging out with Rosebud, Fern, and Peaches on her off days

And there you have it! My first of MANY OCs, the eldest of my Broppy kids!

Buckle up buttercups this is gonna take a WHILE jshhdhdehjdu

I'll be posting one profile a day so I don't overwhelm anyone with too many bxhdhhdbd

But Choco my beloved. The walking definition of a butch lesbian. Girl change your shirt it's fuxking filthy. And take a shower while ur at it xD.

She often walks in the living room after being down her forge for hours smelling like sulfur cuz she KNOWS her siblings will complain about it. Typical sibling behavior

Edit: Decided I'm gonna put a link to a song by their voice claims!!

[valleyfthdolls]

Tell me about your mlp au mischevious grin emote

@minxtheeenby!!

Ok I’m gonna go in order character by character and then just fill in extra lore.

Twilight Sparkle: Twilight is pretty similar to canon, but also not entirely. She’s always struggled with making friends, and instead dedicated herself to magic. She started training under Celestia when she was a little girl, but she only managed to earn that spot because of Rainbow Dash, and as such, she abandoned all other fields of her life over time, dedicating herself to becoming the best sorceress she could be in hopes of earning her place under Celestia. However, depriving herself socially was completely hindering her abilities. The magic system is a little more fancy cuz I don’t totally remember the rules of MLP magic so basically as a powerful sorceress Twilight couldn’t actually harness all her power on her own, and attempting to would have driven her insane. (See: Nightmare Moon, Discord.) Though this isn’t like, a death sentence, Celestia didn’t want Twilight’s pure intentions twisted. Twilight is literally the physical incarnation of the spirit of magic, so this would’ve been super bad. Anyways, with her network of friends, Twilight studies as a sorceress under the queen (sorry but my worst enemy in kids media is when they make the sole monarch of a kingdom a princess, she’s a queen). Her style consists mostly of long skirts and dress. I’m still figuring out what kinds of bells and whistles to add to her design (maybe talismans, magical charms, that kinda thing??)

Applejack: AJ has a strong sense of morality and modesty. Her headstrong nature makes her essentially the head of the Apple family despite her young age, and she keeps their business up and running without a hitch. She is also in charge of teaching Apple Bloom, who has been homeschooled most of her life, right from wrong since the loss of their parents, and as such Apple Bloom has been taught very strictly. Though not like. Really conservative?, the Apple family lives a traditional and… “conservative”???? lifestyle. Applejack is loving and gentle, but will never hesitate to correct a wrong when she sees one. Her style is mostly typical farm girl stuff you’d expect. All her clothes are worn out to hell, but she makes them work ‘cause she’s not gonna spend her family’s hard earned cash on fancy clothes she doesn’t need. She’s generally the same as canon, just a bit rougher around the edges, sweeter at her core, and more straight laced about morality since that’s a better interpretation of honesty I think.

Rarity: Rarity always wants to give the absolute best she can to those around her. This generosity has led her to also develop a will of absolute steel, because of how often it’s been taken advantage of and used to cheat her. She pushes herself to extremes to put out the best for others, often neglecting everything but what she can provide, including what she and those around her need, and while she insists it’s an annoyance to be distracted from her work, she needs her loved ones to help keep her balanced. Having grown up just in the outskirts of a major city, Rarity dreams of that luxury and the life that fame would give her. She tends to look down on others who won’t allow her to help them, but her generosity always comes from a good heart- never is it backhanded or meant to make others feel pitied. This is a misinterpretation Applejack comes away with on many occasions. (There are only so many pairs of sleek, beautiful jeans you can get in the mail before you start to feel like you and your baggy overalls are being slighted.) Rarity’s style is posh, sleek and feminine. Her magic mostly utilizes and surrounds use of gemstones.

Pinkie Pie: Pinkie takes some inspiration that I’m not very proud of. You’ll. You’ll see. She’s a former orphan who was adopted following the destruction of her small hometown which itself has some Lore bc that wasn’t just a random occurrence. She was adopted by the Pie family because she was an earth pony, who are generally known for their physical power, and they needed more hooves on their farm. It was less a family and more a business arrangement- Pinkie and the other kids got her hooves dirty helping with their business, and in return, they gave them food, company, and a roof over their head. She was a very depressed child, but she learned to use humor and joy to find a good side to everything, partially on behalf of her siblings. Eventually, she left the farm to pursue her own life as a party planner and host. She’s also known among Ponyville as a reliable and fun (if perhaps not the most conventional) babysitter for elementary age foals. Similarly to with the Pies, Pinkie works for the Cakes in exchange for a place to live, but she really wants to have a family. As such, she latches onto the idea of being a relative to the Apple family, who accept her even when it turns out she’s not a blood relative. She can often be found at the farm when she has free time, playing games with Apple Bloom and keeping AJ company since she’s no good at harvesting apples. She’s a case Twilight cannot figure out for the life of her- an earth pony who either has weirdly uncanny intuition or is somehow in tune with a type of magic only unicorns can harness. Her style is decora kei.

Fluttershy: Fluttershy’s parents were absolutely massive hippies. While most pegasi reside in the sky for obvious reasons, they lived in the prairie, which was where Fluttershy grew up. She was what the cool kids call “improperly socialized as a child”, and as such, she was socially alienated when she began school, and unable to socialize. Her only friend was Rainbow Dash, who was willing to tone down her antics around her and would die to defend Fluttershy’s honor. (They were weird kids.) Despite being bullied heavily as a kid, she believes there was a silver lining as it taught her that she could communicate with animals and helped her discover her talent, though at the same time, she does know that really, she owes that to Rainbow Dash’s kindness to her. She’s autistic and selectively mute due to her anxiety, and known to shut down in stressful situations because of her fear of conflict, but she does have a… “bad side” if you will. She can be fucking SCARY if you mistreat innocents- especially Rainbow. Her style, similar to Twilight, consists mostly of long dresses and skirts, but with goth elements as she’s known to wear gothic clothing in light colors, and dark makeup.

Rainbow Dash: Rainbow is much more actually loyal to those around her. She’s pretty much the same otherwise, just more, again, actually loyal. She especially is loyal to Fluttershy, who she will always step in for, since they’re childhood friends, but really she’ll do that for any of her friends. She fittingly got her cutie mark defending her friend from bullies, as it’s the same story as canon, but Rainbow- unlike Pinkie- had absolutely zero above average amount of magic, and most normal ponies aren’t meant to be breaking the sound barrier at nine, so this actually fucked her up a bit. Just like all the others, this event connected her directly to the spirit of her element, which has made her more magical, but at the time, it burned the hell out of her and left her with permanent scars and wing damage that meant it took a ton of time and willpower before she could fly again. Her style is… I mean I wanna say scene but I know in my heart she’s a lame ass jock. Lame ass scene jock perhaps. Whatever that may entail

Like I said, Twilight is the only one who is the literal incarnation of her element, where the others are just tied to its magic. Twilight’s full power of magic is only manageable when she’s in tandem with the other five.

Queen Celestia and Princess Luna: Celestia and Luna are the incarnations of the sun and moon respectively, but Luna’s isolation inherent to the nighttime caused her powers to drive her a bit crazy, causing her to become jealous of Celestia, which isolated her further, and eventually the insanity overcame her and she became Nightmare Moon. Celestia sealed her away and took on her powers, but all of this added magic is starting to drive Celestia a bit crazy, which is why she called on the elements of harmony, creating Twilight as the incarnation of magic. Basically she needed someone else to shoulder some of the burden to keep her sane, but this weakened her and caused her to lose control of Nightmare Moon. (Stupid name btw. Maybe I’ll give her a different name.) Nightmare Moon is well aware of what Twilight is, and she’s dead set on defeating her so she can harness her power for herself.

Speaking of which, Nightmare Moon is a longer lasting villain, and because Luna isn’t entirely lucid as her, this makes turning her back a bit of a harder task. Fittingly to the themes of friendship, Nightmare Moon’s energy is dispersed among Luna, Celestia, Twilight, Cadence, the other five, and those who Nightmare Moon controlled, becoming a smaller burden they all have to shoulder together so Luna doesn’t have to succumb alone, because magic can’t be destroyed, but it can be redirected. Most of the supernatural villains are evil entities summoned by Nightmare Moon to work under her, who still have a piece of her curse after she’s rescued, which makes them more powerful, and Luna is unable to redirect her control over them because that magic is now subject to their intentions and direction.

Discord: Discord was the original ruler of Equestria, before the horrible imbalance his chaos caused led to the incarnations of the moon and sun (the balance of day and night) being created, overthrowing him and sealing him away to restore balance. However, looking at the pattern here, there was balance before Discord, imbalance through his rule, balance after Discord, imbalance when the moon overtook the sun, etc. This is a cycle- balance cannot exist without imbalance, and as such, that chaos returns once everything is peaceful. Discord is literally chaos incarnate in this AU, and given the rules about incarnation here, he simply arises when the time is right. I briefly considered that maybe once he was sealed away, his magic was what caused Luna’s to corrupt her, but that would make his return impossible. Instead, Discord had nothing to do with that, but when he returns in the wake of the peace, he preys on the corruption that exists in everyone to play along with his version of the world.

Oh also Discord was originally a normal being, but the overwhelming power of his chaos magic drove him completely insane.

The magic system: Magic in this AU has a few rules.

Magic is an ever present sort of energy.

Like energy, it cannot be created or destroyed. It is everywhere, and instead is channeled into the world, directed and redirected by the user’s intentions.

Everyone has a certain connection to magic, but only sorcerers and sorceresses can harness it. Not all sorcerers are unicorns, but the unicorns have the most direct manifestation of magic. There are different types of sorcery that play into the powers and strengths of all types of ponies, but only the most skilled can harness all three.

Different cultures have different uses of magic. The unicorn centric sorcery of channeling magic directly into you used most is primarily of central Equestria. Other areas practice different types based in the magic that exists in the earth such as potion use and production, faith based magic, hypnosis, etc.

All of these are equally magic, yes.

Cutie marks are magic. This is about the most magic within an average pony.

Magical “spirits” such as the sun and moon, the elements of harmony, chaos and order, etc. exist and those who are closet connected with those “spirits” are more powerful. You can create these connections if you teach yourself to embody them. Sometimes you’re both with them but that’s so rare that not even the main 6 had that happen.

Sometimes these spirits just incarnate into living beings and I guess no one questions this.

[lunarlegend]

🍓🍋🍏 for the OC ask!

thank you, Nadia! 💜

🍓 "cute" as an aesthetic is not really Stella's style, but she's quick to get attached to any cute animal she sees. the problem is, they're typically dangerous. 😂 for example, in my AU, there is a whole "episode" where Stella convinces Noctis & Prompto they should adopt a baby coeurl they found (which thank goodness Ignis put a stop to, lmfao).

🍋 fire! Stella has an intense phobia of fire due to the housefire she barely escaped when Ardyn killed her mom. it's especially rough when she's a teenager, and just about anything can trigger it; from firetruck sirens a couple streets over on the walk home from the arcade, to her & Noct accidentally burning dinner while trying to cook.

this extends into battles during the journey too, and Stella (if she were in the actual game) will take an automatic critical hit whenever something hits her with a fire-based attack (her Crownsguard Fatigues have a built-in fire resistance boost as well).

when the party crosses paths with Ardyn for the second time and he offers to take them to the Disc, Stella remarks "Oh what, so we're just gonna trust some random hobo we met on the street?" and Ardyn responds to her attitude by casually walking up to her and snapping his fingers to conjure a flame with his magic. when Stella freezes and the bros go on the defensive, Ardyn laughs it off, claiming it was a simple magic trick (in reality, he knew exactly what he was doing, for obvious reasons).

the only person Stella trusts with fire is Ignis. (and the irony, because, well, 'Ignis'. fun fact, the reason the nickname 'Iggy' exists in my AU despite being dub-only, is that Stella's mom had taught her latin, and young!Stella wouldn't say his name after the fire so she gave him a nickname. which annoyed Ignis to no end at first, but once he realized why, he just let her do it. then it became like a petname, lol.)

Ignis can use his fire magic in battle, and cook with it at camp, and Stella doesn't even flinch. he will also help her practice getting over her fear sometimes late at night, sitting outside the tent when they're alone, by summoning fire to his hand so she can try getting close to it.

incidentally, i'm also really fond of the fan theory that Ignis is a descendant of Ifrit, so i love that the girl who's terrified of fire fell in love with a (sort of) fire god. plus, Stella's name is a reference to water (Stella Maris = latin for 'Star of the Sea'), which is just icing on the cake.

during the 10 Years of Darkness, Stella works to overcome her fear, and by the time Ardyn sets the city on fire during Chapter 14, she's unfazed. this doesn't stop a newly-awakened Noctis from being concerned for her, however.

🍏 Stella is eccentric for sure, but i wouldn't say she's ever been punished for that quality alone. her energy is almost contagious, and she was well-liked in school as a child, becoming sort of a leader to all the neighborhood kids in Lestallum (who she frequently recruited for her mischievous activities, lol).

after coming to Insomnia, though, she sticks out like a sore thumb. Stella is not used to the city at all, and is angry that she has to be there. she feels trapped in her school uniform, constricted by her shoes, and often gets lost trying to navigate the trains. she is used to running around barefoot in shorts, and has never had to travel much further than her feet can take her before. this contributes greatly to how much young!Stella acts out, especially in school, where she develops a reputation for throwing rocks at people and trying to push them down the stairs (very fun for Regis to hear about, by the way. imagine being a literal King and the school called about your tiny feral niece again)

luckily, after some much needed help and support, Stella grows out of this phase and finally settles into her new home, allowing her bubbly personality to emerge once more.

[oliviab-scstudyabroad]

Welcome to English Camp! (Part I)

Hey guys! I apologize again for another late post; I’ve been extremely busy as usual! School has been taking up most of my time, as ORT is known for their course grades being heavily weighted on midterms and group projects. I haven’t had a single homework assignment here, but I do have tons of Zoom Meetings and study sessions with classmates. Last week, I had a parcial (miderm) for my Business Law class, and I got an 83%! I was proud of myself because not only is the class taught in Spanish, but it also discusses business law specifically in Uruguay. I also had a parcial for Uruguayan Economy and Society, and fingers crossed that that went well also! Although studying was tedious for that course, I enjoyed doing research and reading articles because it gives context for a lot of the conversations that my classmates have here. This weekend, I’m heading to Buenos Aires to blow off some steam and explore more of such a lively city.

A few weeks ago, I worked as a camp counselor for an English camp! I got the job because the academic coordinator at ORT forwarded an email from the academic coordinator of Escuela Integral, an elementary school that is affiliated with ORT because they’re both Jewish! At Escuela, the students are taught English and Hebrew, and Escuela is one of the only Jewish elementary schools left in the country. After an interview with the head camp counselor, I was hired! The camp lasted for three days, Wednesday to Friday, and it was in Atlántida, about an hour from Montevideo. At 8:00 a.m. on Wednesday, I arrived at Escuela with my things and met the other camp counselors. Two of them were Uruguayan, and one was American (from Boston). I also met the kids; they were fifth graders (10 years old), and they were already bouncing off the walls before we left, so I knew I was in for a long ride. We then boarded the bus and headed to Camp Floresta!

The site was your typical summer camp site. It was complete with a cabin with bunk beds, a bonfire area, and a soccer field. We got a tour of the site and the counselors explained the rules of the camp. The main rule was to only speak English. We then did several ice breaker challenges, including “Line Up”, where the students had to (in English) put themselves in order based on their birthday and name. It was pretty adorable because when they asked me for help, they would speak to me in Spanglish. For example, when I asked one kid what his birthday was, he said “eleven of Julio” (July 11th). Although their English was questionable, I was still impressed that we could carry little conversations and that they weren’t timid about speaking to a native speaker. They also played “Try to Stand Up” where they had to form pairs, intertwine their arms, and try to stand up together, and “Human Bingo”, where they had to get signatures from their classmates if they had done that activity on the Bingo Sheet. For example, if a student had gone on a plane before, they signed their name in that square.

After the icebreaker activities, we had lunch. I was asked to sit with the students so that they could practice their English, and it was hilarious to hear the types of conversations that 10-year-olds have. One kid named Jeronimo (love that name) told me that he has an 18-year-old girlfriend named Flavia. He had this mischievous grin on his face, and the girl next to me (Lisette) said that he met her across the street. I then realized that he was the one waving at people walking by the camp and asking them what their names were! Flavia must live in the neighborhood hahah. Most of them only spoke to me in Spanish in the beginning. A lot of them thought I was Uruguayan, and although that’s a big compliment to me, I assured them that I wasn’t and that I “only knew English”.

After lunch, the class was divided up into four groups, and each was assigned a color (green, yellow, red, and orange). The counselors then explained that throughout the camp, the students would receive tokens for things that they had done well, such as cleaning up after lunch or speaking in English. The team who had the most coins at the end of the camp would receive a prize! Each team then had to create a team flag and make up a song and dance to present to the class. I was in charge of helping the green group. I suggested that they come up with their team’s name first and then base their song around the name. At first, they wanted to be called the “Green Group”, but I told them to come up with something more creative. They decided to be called the Grinches! I helped them draw a crown on their flag with lightning bolts, and they made up the choreography and lyrics. I tried not to laugh when they were coming up with the lyrics. They went something like this:

We are the Grinch, Grinch, Grinch

The best of teams, teams, teams

We are a group, group, group

The best of group, group, group

We are Grinch!

The Grinches then performed in front of the class. I had to take a video because they were so into it and serious about making sure everything was perfect. After, the kids had free time, so I helped them with getting on and off the zipline! We then had tea as a group, and then there was another activity. Each group had to sit together, and the counselors would ask them trivia questions. Some of them were “name five countries in Asia”, “who is the president of Chile”, and “what is the capital of France”. The kids were out of control at this point. I think they were antsy after having free time and exhausted from getting up early to board the bus, but the trivia game that should’ve lasted 30 minutes ended up lasting two hours. It made me have a deeper appreciation for teachers, because I certainly don’t have the patience to deal with rowdy kids for that long. After finally finishing the game (the winner got a few tokens), we had a dinner of milanesa and French fries (a typical Uruguayan meal).

While the students were finishing up dinner, I helped the other counselors to put up a disco ball, hang up neon lights, and create a playlist with English songs for a Neon Party! Each student received a “VIP” ticket to admission for the party, and once they entered the dance floor, we encouraged them to dance with their friends and sing the English songs (“Dynamite, “Tik Tok”, “Party Rock Anthem”, basically the hits from the early 2000’s). I also did face paint on some of the kids, and they loved that the colors were neon! A lot of the students were beat after a packed day, so we went to bed as soon as the music cut out and the lights turned off.

That concludes my first day at the camp; stay tuned for Part II!

[mussfis]

A litlle drabble about Taliesin and Yngvor I wrote when was bored.

Sorry for my English

First Impression

Evening was approaching: the moon had already appeared in the sky, and the sun was going below the horizon. The cool wind felt pleasant on the skin, causing it to break out in goosebumps. Still, Yngvor is not yet accustomed to the Skyrim weather. Yes, she is Nord, but when you spend your whole life in Cyrodiil, one way or another you will freeze with weather like this.

- It’s surprising that you didn’t kill me as soon as you found out what I did. You Nords are very religious. - Taliesin interrupted the silence.

Yngvor rolled her eyes:

- Firstly, I am from the Imperial City, which means I have absorbed the culture of the Imperials. Secondly, I’m basically not very religious. - The girl bent her fingers. - And thirdly, those people themselves ran into trouble. - She shrugged.

- Ha. I couldn't agree more. But it’s strange to hear this from a Nord... - Taliesin smiled mysteriously.

- Why?

- I am familiar with the Nords of Skyrim. You don't have much in common with them.

Yngvor shrugged again:

- Don't know. Perhaps the Nords of Cyrodiil are different from the Nords of Skyrim.

Taliesin ran his fingers over a flower.

-What did you do in Cyrodiil? - The elf smiled. - Wait, let me guess: did you perform in the arena? Or maybe you fought all sorts of creatures with a sword?

Yngvor laughed:

- Well, I really killed all sorts of creatures, but this is not my line of work. - The girl sighed. - I am a scientist, a student of the Synod.

Taliesie even stopped at this information.

- Come on? Is it true?

Yngvor snorted.

- Does this surprise you? I'm actually the best on the course.

Taliesin smiled and indicated “I surrender” with his hands:

- I believe you. Just don't show it to me.

- You are too biased towards me, Taliesin. - The girl looked gloomily.

- Well...it’s just that you don’t often meet a Nord like you. - Taliesin smiled charmingly.

Ingvor smiled in response:

- And I don’t often meet former Thalmor members. Especially such talkative ones.

Taliesin nodded.

- Touché.

***

- Why are you wearing facepaint? - Taliesin suddenly asked a question.

Out of surprise, Yngvor did not drop the fish into the fire.

- Why are you asking?

The elf thoughtfully scratched his chin.

- Well...you differ in character and behavior from your kind, but you still look like a typical Nord.

Yngvor replied sarcastically:

- I don’t know if this is a compliment. - The girl sighed. - My grandmother. She loved facepaints and taught me how to wear them.

Taliesin smiled softly.

- It looks like you were close to your relatives.

The man sadly looked away and whispered quietly:

- Unlike me...

Yngvor looked at the elf in surprise. Could he really be serious?

- Will you tell me?

Taliesin smiled at the corners of his lips.

- Next time.

***

- What exactly did you do at the Synod? - Taliesin looked curiously at Yngvor.

- Hmm... I can talk about this for a long time.

- You're lucky - it's quite a long way for us to go to these Nordic ruins of yours. - Taliesin was a little annoyed. Did the Nordic ruins really bother him that much?

- Don `t cry. We need to earn money to travel to Winterhold. Let's return this Golden Claw and that's all.

Taliesin sighed.

- OK OK. But what about my question?

Yngvor stopped and thought:

- Hmm... The Synod gave me a lot. I am proficient in the schools of destruction and illusion. But mainly I was engaged in various studies in the field of history.

Judging by Taliesin's appearance, he was impressed.

- Oh, so you’re not just a magician, but also a researcher. But what exactly are you studying?

Yngvor thought: “If he continues to ask, I won’t stop talking...”

- I like to explore the past. Dwemers, Falmers and so on. And the unknown. Maormers, Akavir... - Yngvor talked about her hobbies for another ten minutes.

Taliesin suddenly became serious and said:

- Actually, I asked the question in a joking tone. But...I'm really impressed now.

The elf turned to Yngvor and smiled:

- It's nice to travel in such company.

Yngvor blushed, but tried to remain calm.

- Ha! Me too.

***

- Since we returned this terribly tasteless claw, maybe we can have a drink in that cozy tavern?

Yngvor thought about it.

- Hmm...I'll pass. Although, if they have some juice...then I'll keep you company.

Taliesin laughed:

- Juice? Seriously? How old are you?

- 23... - Yngvor answered incomprehensibly.

- It was a rhetorical question.

Taliesin sighed and then smiled:

- Or maybe you... a milk-drinker?

- Well, yeah... I love milk. Is that bad?

Taliesin facepalmed:

- No! In a different sense...it means that...oh, fine. And why do I know more about Nords's culture than you?

Yngvor shrugged:

- I don’t really understand what you’re talking about. Don't true Nords drink milk?

Taliesin sighed heavily:

- Doesn't matter. Let's go already. I need a drink.

[luminiamore]

IN THE A.

biker geto suguru x black hoochie mama reader

warnings: fingerfucking, soft dom sugu, he’s a tease, sugu has a big dick, but we knew this!

a/n: this man is so fine i need him neow.

second part here.

masterlist

Life has always treated you so well, beyond well, in fact. You resided in one of Atlanta’s finest lofts, debt-free at 23 despite recently graduating from college. Even though you have your own income, your generous parents still send you a fat check every week or so. You had men constantly begging on their knees to fund your entire existence, and on the occasion, women, too. Everything you wanted simply came to you with no trouble. 

You wanted that cute brown skin man with the waves that you saw at the grocery store? He already has your number. You want that pretty ’90s hairstyle you saw in a vintage magazine? You were already on your way to go get it done. You want to change your dramatic nails, even though you just got them done two days ago, because you found another style you want more? Who can deny you? It’s your world. 

Was it manifestation? Who knows. The one thing you do know is that the world hands you everything on a pure gold platter.

Popularity followed you whenever you went, but who could blame you? You were the epitome of everything sexy. From the way your rose-colored wedges beautifully complement your flawless white toes against your dark skin to how your denim mini skirts hug your curves and accentuate your figure, and your tops, or mainly bikini tops, enhance your boobs so well that they could make a grown man cry. 

Had you been an adult woman in the 90s instead of being a high-maintenance child, you might have been a star, perhaps even one of the most iconic video vixens. However, that title belongs to your momma. The OG.

She was the sought-after beauty every top rapper wanted for their music videos. From Snoop Dogg to 50 Cent, Lil Wayne to Jay Z, Biggie - she lit up screens. She even brought fire to the feud between Tupac and Biggie when she appeared in the latter’s video. You’re almost sure that lady even told you about how Pac was nearly your father before she met your dad. And you, like the little minx you were, lived up to her status.

Now, you weren’t in those modern-day rap videos of the pretty big booty woman shaking their ass on camera. Your momma raised you to have more class than that. She taught you that your ass isn’t the biggest asset you have to offer, figuratively. Your face is, the way you make people feel is, the way you seduce people is. 

That resulted in you appearing in a few music videos where the artist expressed love for someone, as those typically featured the camera focused on one girl. And that girl was you. Those got you the recognition your momma had. Those got men practically lining up to pay all your bills, those got plentiful women dying to either be you or be with you.

Your reputation preceded you; you were exceptional, operating on a different level altogether. Your complexion was flawless, your lips rich and full, and your eyes possessed a captivating allure that could weaken anyone with just one glance. You were taught to always go after the best because you are the best. 

So, what the hell was your ass doing walking around in Oakland City? Wearing your ripped undercut booty shorts, which showed more booty than shorts, along with a vintage Dior top you borrowed stole from your momma, complete with a matching purse.

Your flower sandals from Dolce & Gabbana made such a powerful tapping sound, combined with the multiple pieces of gold adorning your wrists, ears, and neck, that everyone you passed couldn’t help but look to see just who it was, and they were definitely not disappointed.

You’re not stupid. You wouldn’t dream of entering one of the most dangerous areas of your hometown without protection. Your bedazzled gold pepper spray and your fully loaded Beretta Nano 9mm pistol in your purse, itching to be used if someone tries you.

They wouldn’t dare, though. Your momma wasn’t the only legendary figure in your family. Your dad ran one of the leading crime families in all of Atlanta, dealing with heavy drugs, counterfeiting, and smuggling illegal things across borders. He was feared just as equally as he was respected. 

Messing with you? Your pops would send their family a well-decorated package with their son on a shirt. The last man that cheated on you was a prime example. You couldn’t feel bad for him, though, you did warn him.

To answer your earlier inquiry, which has been nagging at you since you parked your Toyota GR Supra Coupe at a motel five blocks away from the neighborhood, you were there to buy drugs. Weed, more specifically. You could have asked your father, but you really weren’t up for hearing his opinion on how he believes you smoke too much. So you go to the next best thing, Satoru Gojo. 

Since your dad was focused on dealing with harder drugs, he didn’t bother with substances like shrooms or anything related to weed. He considered himself too old for that and delegated the task to his second in command and your friend since birth, Satoru. You quicken your pace, heels tapping rapidly as you approach one of his many houses. You’re almost there. 

He has some of the best shit in the A, but whenever you ask him how he does it,

“I just sell it, Sis. My best friend does all the hard stuff,” 

You would always roll your pretty eyes at this because this supposed best friend he always bragged about was never around. At first, you believed he fibbed about having a best friend out of embarrassment, suspecting that you were the only one who could tolerate his antics.

But you saw glimpses, small ones. A fine leather jacket hanging off his dining room chair that you know Satoru wouldn’t wear. A motorcycle helmet standing tall on the side of his kitchen counter. Your suspicions proved unfounded as your gaze shifted to a sleek, blacked-out MTT 420 Turbine Superbike as you approached Toru’s driveway. 

You know damn well that can’t belong to Satoru. Your movements stop once you knock harshly on the door. You catch the faint sound of a random trap song playing through it. You can’t help but smile, amused by how predictably cliché this white-haired man-child can be. Trap music at a trap house.

Your smile fades as you’re met with a cold glare from a short, thick, light-skinned girl wearing a blonde wig. Studying her features further, you can’t help but acknowledge her prettiness. But the minute she opened her mouth, you were annoyed.

“And, who the fuck you is?” She snaps loudly, the gum she’s chewing matching her obnoxiousness. She’s too pretty for this.

“Girl, bye.” You push past her, causing her to stumble slightly, as you march into the house. Maybe she was about to say something, but you didn’t stick around to find out. With your back turned to her, you catch Satoru muttering softly and glancing past you, “Don’t even try it.” 

She sucks her teeth in annoyance, slamming the door behind her as she heads back to the couch where Satoru, another man, and three other girls are seated. Wait- another man? 

You glance back at the couch again, only to steady your hands on the wall you were leaning on. Woah. This man was so fine that he almost made your legs give out on you. The fuck?

His face was so pretty. Sharp black eyes and the longest hair you’ve ever seen on a man. The wife beater he wore clung tightly to his perfect skin, so much so that you could make out that he had nipple piercings. Woah. The tattoos trailing up both of his muscular arms had you ready to remind yourself to just fucking breathe. He sported washed black Chrome Heart jeans, and the pretty cross peeking from his waistband gave it away. 

This man was looking at you, more like undressing you with his eyes. And you couldn’t look away.

“You can’t be knocking on my door like that Sis, I almost thought you were the feds.” Satoru hums, though he really wasn’t worried. He knew the feds couldn’t hold him for long; he had too much money for that. You quickly glance at him and roll your eyes. When you shift your gaze away from Toru, you turn back to the man who has yet to introduce himself to you.

As if he could read your mind, he rises from his seat, his towering height catching you off guard, and he saunters almost sensually towards where you’re standing in the kitchen. The minute he stands in front of you,

“Suguru Geto. You’re beautiful if you don’t mind me saying,” He brings a hand out to shake yours, his eyes never shifting from your brown ones. You glance down for a moment, and you swear you can feel your heartbeat in your pussy when you catch sight of his immaculately clean, clear polished nails, his fingers adorned with silver rings. Lord, help you.

You give him a smile when you register his compliment, “Y/n. You’re the infamous best friend I hear so much about but never see?” You raise a brow.

Suguru swears he’s died and went to heaven when he hears your honey voice. He thinks he’s met the prettiest girl he’s laid eyes on. The gold grill you have of what he remembers is the Scorpio sign confirms it. I mean, just look at you, your outfit, your jewelry, and your face. 

Suguru believes he knows himself. He knows he doesn’t like girls that do “too much,” but you make it look so good. He knows he doesn’t even have a fetish for feet. But if you told him to right now, he would drop down immediately and worship yours. He believed a goddess was walking among him when you walked through the door. 

“That’s me, the idiot doesn’t have anyone else,” He mutters. You let out the cutest laugh at his comment that makes his dick harden in his jeans. Lord, help him.

Satoru lets out a dramatic gasp behind the two of you, “Hey! I have Y/n!” You immediately retort at him, raising a finger at him. 

“Aht! No, you don’t,” You chuckle, snickering and rolling your eyes as you catch him placing a hand on his heart as if you’ve just shot him.

“Stop hogging my best friend and come get what you came for, Sis,” He waves a bag in the air, holding at least 20 grams of weed, ignoring the two girls tugging on both of his arms.

You squeal and sprint as fast as your heels allow towards where he’s seated. Suguru follows after you slowly, feeling ashamed at the way the other two girls cling to him the moment he sits down. He wants nothing to do with them, he feels almost disgusted by their presence now that you’re here. He didn’t even realize they were here when he arrived, he was only here for Satoru.

You snatch the bag from him, slip it into your purse, and then lunge toward him for a hug, knowing he’d never let you pay, of course.

“Thank you, Toru!” Naturally, he wastes no time pushing the two girls aside to embrace you. You’ve always been his top priority. Suguru finds it challenging to look away because as you hug his best friend, your curvaceous behind is directly in his line of sight. He wishes you would hug him like that.

When you straighten, “I gotta go. You guys seem busy anyway,” You quickly utter and glance at Suguru. He seemed like he was about to say something, but you interject before he can. 

“It was nice meeting you, Suguru.” You softly tell him. He might’ve just came in his pants with the way you said his name in that tone. He pauses for a moment, but before he can utter a word, you’ve already dashed out the front door.

He stills, and he turns to his lifelong best friend,

“Give me her number.”

It’s been about two hours since you arrived at your loft. You prepared yourself a nice dinner, a well-made Alfredo, before making your way to your room. You sink into the comfort of your silk sheets, retrieving your ashtray and preparing to roll up. Soft Erykah Badu playing from your Alexa Speaker. You’re interrupted by an unknown number dinging on your phone. 

Who’s this?

You smile immediately, feeling a rush of nerves as you realize he asked Satoru for your number. You're accustomed to getting what you want, and right now, you want him. You eagerly await his text, noticing that he's typing.

You observe his directness. Suguru is texting you as if he knows exactly what he wants, and if there's one thing you admire in a man, it's when he's decisive and goes after what he wants. You've already decided to smoke with him, swiftly swapping your shorts for a black Juicy Tracksuit as it got windy. You opt to play a little hard to get.

Your jaw drops at the amount he sent you for an Uber. Is he crazy? While you’ve had people send you rides to go somewhere, you can’t shake the feeling that he just wanted an excuse to send you money. You’re still reeling from the shock when he immediately sends you the address to his place afterward. You grab two rolled-up blunts and slide on a pair of kitten heels. Snatching your keys, you head out when your Uber driver arrives outside.

The drive to his place is surprisingly short, almost too short. Considering how spread out the area is, you’ve only been in the car for 15 minutes, yet you’re still in the same neighborhood. You brush it off and approach his door. As you knock, you notice Suguru’s driveway filled with three vehicles: the motorcycle you saw earlier, a Mercedes E-Class, and a sleek BMW M3. You can’t help but appreciate yet another reason you’re drawn to him.

He opens the door, and you swear you wish you could pounce on him. He’s still wearing the wife beater, and when you glance up at his face, you notice his eyes are low and red. With his hair tied up in a man bun, a few strands cascading over his face, the only thought running through your mind is... He’s so pretty.

“You started getting lit without me?” You feign surprise as he welcomes you inside. He kindly takes your keys and hangs them on the holder by his door. You could feel him staring at your ass as you move to stand beside him.

He chuckles, shaking his head at you. He reaches a hand out. “You know how Satoru is. My room?” You nod, and he shivers as your long, pretty nails brush against his hand. Was everything about you so alluring?

You follow behind him, noting how he never lets go of your hand. His room, much like his style, is entirely black. Black sheets adorn a king-sized bed, with a few rock band posters hanging above where his dressers are placed. He even has a private bathroom, the door wide open. Damn, this man even has lavender incense burning on the small desk next to his bed.

“Make yourself comfortable, sweetheart,”

Don’t mind if I do. You drop your body on his bed with a plop. You start to take off your right heel, intending to reach for the left one, only to find Suguru already kneeling down, doing it for you. When he’s done, he rubs your feet for about three long seconds before pulling away. You gasp softly, looking away from his intense gaze. Is he usually this forward?

“Uh- I rolled two. I get lip gloss on the blunt,” You sputter out, retrieving them from your purse as he stands up from his position on the floor and settles onto his pillow.

He makes a tsk sound, “Don’t play with me,” He grabs only one from your raised hand and pulls a skull lighter from his jeans pocket. As you place the other one in your purse, you watch him take the first hit. You realize he enjoys eye contact because, throughout all of his movements, his eyes never leave yours.

You’re nervous. For the first time in your life, a man has made you feel nervous. His energy makes you nervous, how he observes you with such intensity makes you nervous, and even how he feeds you the blunt after taking a few hits makes you nervous.

You’re mesmerized. The effects of the blunts hit you swiftly, altering your mind and intensifying your urge to fuck this man till he sees stars.

Suguru himself has never felt this way before. He’s had a few flings here and there and has even been in a relationship or two. But he’s never felt the need to be entirely consumed by someone. The minute he saw you, it felt like time had stopped for him; he could hear how fast his heart was beating. He wanted to impress you. He wanted to give you the universe because the world is far too small for someone like you.

“You have a boyfriend?” His husky voice asks this out of respect for you. Honestly, he couldn’t give a fuck less if you had a man. You’d be his either way.

“Why? You want me?” You giggle, though you knew he did, you just wanted to tease him. As you gaze up at him through the haze, your breath catches when you observe that his eyes have darkened noticeably. You recognize that expression all too well—it mirrors the one you give the camera when it’s focused on you.

He doesn’t respond or even break a smile at your inquiry. No, his eyes are fixated on your plump, glossed lips as you take another hit. You shift your thighs a little, you don’t know how long you can wait before he makes his move.

Suguru notices, and this time, his lips twitch up a bit, “And if I did?” His whisper keeps you quiet. What the hell were you supposed to say to that? Suguru doesn’t mind your silence. He needs you to savor your angelic tune anyway since you’ll scream his name in a few minutes. Rising from his position, he tilts your chin towards him, his eyes catching note of the smoke in your mouth. Drawing his lips dangerously close to yours, he exhales softly,

“Let it go.” You don’t hesitate to listen to his command. It’s as if your mind is his now, the way he doesn’t even do anything to get your attention. As soon as the smoke escapes your lips, he inhales it, pressing his soft lips firmly against yours.

You whimper out at the force and immediately kiss him back. Suguru swears he’s already in love when he feels your lips reciprocate his action, the stickiness of your strawberry gloss making him release a sound that had you squeezing your thighs. He’s relentless, nipping and forcing his tongue to merge with yours.

His fervor with just a kiss leaves you reeling. The combination of the weed and his lips makes you feel intoxicated, causing you to grasp onto the fabric of his jeans to steady yourself. When he pulls away from you, it only makes you crave more.

You’re both breathing heavily, and the sound of Brent Faiyez playing on his speaker is long tuned out. He stares at your eyes briefly before gently pulling you down to lay on your back. You lean up to pull him into another passionate kiss,

“More, please.” You whine out, a little too desperate for your taste. You couldn’t understand why you wanted him so bad, maybe it was the weed, or maybe it was the fact that your pussy was dripping the minute you saw him at Satoru’s place. You can tell he wants to take things slow, but you can’t find it in you to share the same feeling. You need him to do something to you, now.

He only whispers, “Patience, sweetheart.” And moves his lips down to your neck. Soft kisses fill your throat before he stops teasing and reaches for your zipper. He's not shocked to learn that you don't wear a bra; he could almost see your hard nipples through the velvet fabric of your hoodie.

Your sigh of satisfaction comes from the moment he wraps his lips around your dark areola and gently caresses the fat of your unattended boob. He starts slowly, listening to the sounds you make and observing how he can persuade you to moan louder. Your breath gets shaky when he gets more aggressive with his movement, pulling at your sensitive nipples. He decides that he wants more from you.

Suguru rasps out, “I know you want me to fuck you,” Your body feels on fire as his touch slithers down your stomach, grazing your belly ring. He lowers your tracksuit pants for you and throws them across his room, forbidding you to do anything that doesn’t include you receiving pleasure. Your body is anticipating as he continues, “But I need to prep you, or you won’t be able to take me,”

He toys with the slender strap of your thong, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on your face as he talks, “Be good and let me play with you for a bit, okay?”

Your fiery personality is well-known for not letting men dictate your actions. You’re quick to dismiss any nigga, and based on instinct, you’re almost prepared to snap: Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to? 

By now, you should realize that Suguru observes every single move you make, every slight gesture you make, when your breath catches, and even now, he detects that you intend to snap at him. He does nothing but give you a look, a dangerous look, which only implies I dare you. Suguru orchestrates a dominance so calm but prominent that you can’t help but whimper out a quiet “Yes,”

What is he doing to you?

He presses a kiss to the side of your mouth as a reward. He’s in a trance. Suguru can’t pull his gaze away from your panties. You’re so wet that it’s clinging onto the fabric as he slowly pulls it away from your lower lips. He finds himself plunging two fingers into your wet cunt before your thong even touches your knees. Fuck, you’re tight.

“Ah- shit! Sugu!” You mewl, walls immediately clenching on his thick fingers. He quickly begins to rub circles on your twitching clit, observing as you gasp and scramble under him. You’re so beautiful like this, he thinks. He doesn’t hesitate to tell you this, too.

“I know, sweetheart. You’re so beautiful, y’know that?” Your slick is dripping all over his palm as he finger fucks you. You try to keep your moans in, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you lose your mind. But you can’t. You can’t do anything but scream out at the way his long fingers are effortlessly punishing your G-spot.

Suguru moves his fingers faster when you don’t answer him, “I asked you a question, baby.” 

Your loud whimpers can be heard over his music. How could you possibly answer? You’re already starting to blank, you’re not sure you even listened to what he said. “I- Oh fuck, Yes!” 

The sounds coming from your fat pussy is downright phonographic. The squishing, the squelching. Shit, it’s even dripping onto his bed, creating a wet stain. Fuck. Suguru doesn’t think he can take another minute without being inside you. He needs it, but he needs to make you cum first. 

He knows you’re about to, with the way your breathing is stuttering and the way there’s a white cream starting to stain his fingers as he pushes them in and out of you. You’re clenching so hard he’s not sure his dick will fit inside of you. He’ll make it fit, he’ll break your little pussy in if he has to.

Suguru leans against you, his desperate panting revealing his longing for you as he whispers in your ear, “I need you to cum for me, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?” He fucks his fingers inside of you harder, rubbing your pretty clit even faster.

You nod eagerly, mind already reeling as you wail, “Y-Yes. I’m gonna cum, Sugu! I- Shitt,” He gently kisses your lips, sliding his tongue into your mouth as if he’s encouraging you to accept it, to just cum all over him. And you do.

Your grip on the bottom of Suguru’s wifebeater hurts your fingers, and you arch your back off the bed while your tight walls clench once more around him. You see white spots in your blacked-out vision, and your squealing is so loud that you worry the neighbors will hear it. He doesn’t stop moving when you cum, wanting to prolong what he knows is the strongest orgasm you’ve ever had. 

When you finally stop twitching in aftershock, your breathing begins to slow down, and his movements follow suit. Your panties are long gone. He swiftly pulls out of you while you’re still in a daze, making you unaware that he’s sucking up your essence from his fingers and pulling his jeans down along with his Calvin Klein briefs.

You are, however, aware when he pushes your thick brown thighs flush against your chest. And you’re even more aware when he lines his fat pink tip to your sticky lower lips. Suguru doesn’t let you see just how big he is, he directs your focus to his lips on yours. But Lord, do you fucking feel it. You feel it when he rubs up and down on your wet slit. You feel it when he pushes only his tip inside of you before he pulls back out again.

Suguru doesn’t think he can keep on teasing you like this. He tries to keep it up for your sake, but the way you feel on his tip has his body shaking; it’s almost embarrassing. But he can’t find himself to feel ashamed when you look up at him at him like that, your eyes pleading for him to fuck you into the mattress.

“I’m gonna put it in now, baby. I’m gonna fuck you real good, okay?” You’re learning, you know he wants an answer from you, and you don’t bat an eye when your trembling, honeyed voice whispers, “Whatever y-you want, Sugu.”

Whatever he wants? You probably should’ve never said that, and he’ll show you why. He pushes inside of your cunt slowly, hissing at the same time you shriek when your walls try to push him out. “Breathe,” He rasps out. And you’re trying, you’re really trying to. But he’s just so fucking big, it’s like he’s breaking your pussy in half. 

“Y-You’re too big! I can’t-” He doesn’t let you finish, he proves that you can when he pushes in halfway through your slobbering pussy. 

“Of course you can, Y/n. You’re almost there, sweetheart. One more breath for me, yeah?” 

You listen wordlessly, sucking in another deep breath. It’s inevitable to cry when he plunges the rest of his 8 and a half inches in one go. Suguru lets out a groan in your ear, and the sound makes your insides churn. How is it that he immediately finds your spongy spot? You’re so used to being briefly grazed in that spot that this feeling is foreign to you.

Suguru gives you a few seconds before your pussy starts suffocating him, and he’s forced to start feeding you with slow, deep strokes. “Jesus, fuck!” You keen, mewling, and pressing on his firm abs; the pressure was just too much for you. Are you crazy?

“None of that Y/n.” He uses his left hand to hold both of your hands and place them above your head, gently grasping your throat with his right. All the while, his eyes never leave yours, and his big cock never stops stirring up your guts at that slow pace. He gets impatient. 

“You feel so good, so fucking tight. Pretty pussy is mine now, yeah? Tell me it is,” Gradual snapping of his hips against yours in a feverous tempo causes you to scramble under him, with your mind getting lost since you can’t find anything to keep you grounded. He has you altogether under his control, and you can’t find it in yourself to be upset.

You don’t respond, your brain too gone to form any thought that’s not Sugu. You’ve forgotten your manners, he’ll make sure to remind you. He snaps his hips harder, he swears the cries you make almost make him cum on the spot.

“Words, Y/n. Tell me this perfect pussy is mine,” The sound of your soaked pussy filling the air as he whispers against your lips, which are permanently shaped in a perfect O.

You weep out, “Fuck! Oh, Sugu- it’s yours, all yours! I- Ah!” His face adorns with a sly smile at your confession. His body is on fire, your pussy perfectly snug around the shape of his cock. He knows he’s about to cum, with the way his insides are twisting, and his heavy balls are twitching rapidly as they slap on the fat on your ass. Your pussy is so good that he swears you’re not even from this planet. But he needs to get you there first. That’s all he needs to dump his seed inside of you.

He slithers the hand gripping your throat down to your drooling clit, rubbing so fast you think you’re having whiplash. Your cries become louder, and before you even know what’s happening, you’re covering Suguru’s entire stomach and his soft sheets with your squirt.

Suguru follows swiftly after you, letting out a sinful moan, his body trembling as he fills your pussy with his cum. It’s so much, so fucking much, that you can feel it overflowing past your stretched-out pussy. The sluggishness of his thrusts inside you causes him to let out loud breaths and drop his face in the crook of your neck.

Your eyes are still stuck on the ceiling above you, shallow breaths emerging from your sore throat. Woah.

The long-haired man above you is still panting and giving you another command, making it difficult for you to process what just happened to you.

“On your stomach, sweetheart.”

This time, you remember your manners.

[bestygogirl]

BEST YGO GIRL: FINAL ROUND

please use this as an opportunity to say why you like a character, not why you don't.

Propaganda under the cut!

Isis Ishtar

gorgeous, very caring sister, strong duelist, and the only woman to ever make Seto Kaiba squirm

anyways. not only as mentioned above is she the first woman to make kaiba squirm, but she was by all means going to beat him if not for the millennium rod's millennium interference. yami marik admits that she's a strong duelist with a strategy that's been working for literal years-- and given that she's not like, a professional duelist, thats pretty impressive

she also recently got some really cool meta bumps and let me point out that an "ishizu deck" now includes obelisk the tormentor-- which we knew she had prior to giving it to kaiba, but i think it only solidifies my opinion that she very much could wield an Egyptian God Card, an exclusive little club for top tier duelists

as a character she presents herself with an amazing amount of poise and grace, shes compassionate and kind and stays with mai and serenity even though she only just met them. shes struggling through living the past 5 years of her life drowning in guilt for her family's tragedy just because she wanted to make her little brother happy and shadi is a fucking liar. shes foretold her own death and marches towards it grimly but with so much love in her heart. and even then shes 20 years old and holds an important position in the egyptian government that typically requires a doctorate degree AND has been dealing with mariks off-and-on bullshit entirely by her lonesome. she also likes to flex her fortunetelling a little which is awesome i think she should do that more that scene where she tells the guy exactly how the stele is being transported was so everything

speaking of shes got such an attitude. "is it your destiny to waste my time?" iconic. never seen before will never be seen again. watch the duel between her va and joeys its so fucking funny

shes excult. shes doesnt flinch in the face of god nor death. seto kaiba and yami marik respect her. shes so sad and so sweet and battle city couldnt have happened without her.

also her parallels with kaiba are what motivate kaiba to give yugi the card he needed to beat marik.

kaiba, in duelist kingdom, was ready to jump off a ledge if yugi didnt let him through to face pegasus while trying to save mokuba out of sheer desperation to save his little brother. he KNOWS what that dedication feels like and the iron kind of will you need to have to make that kind of gamble. isis is being so fucking legit with what shes saying and he respects that and her judgement enough to change his mind and not only watch the duel, but give yugi a card that eventually helps him win, even if he has no real confidence in the odds. but theres a CHANCE, which is the same thing he taught her when he beat her in a duel. the layers its her faith that moves him to act. which is so crazy

anyway vote isis shes my best friend forever and a real rep for all the 20 year olds who honest to god did not sign up for this bullshit

Yuzu Hiragi

The entire show would not work if the cast wasn't obsessed with her, and they're all right to stan her, literally gets Sora and Serena to defect from Academia with her sheer charisma, beat Masumi at their gay little rivalry, Yugo spends a few days with her and is ready to die for her, Yuya is simply just the loudest about adoring her And why not? She is so clever and determined, doing the most work out of anyone to figure out the myth plot. Actively trains to keep up with the rest of cast. Even when the universe is conspiring against her and trying to keep her down, she fucking headbutts Roger and tells him off or manifests to help save the world in the ultimate girlboss team-up that was the Arc V finale. Truly any dimension without her is worth upending.

The mysterious magical bracelet that isekai's her to different worlds, the Can-Do attitude, the cool poses (fusion summoning), the ADORABLE character design, AND she was 1/4 of a world-saving hero in the past?? If it weren't for the meddling writers, she would have been the main character

yuzu is everything. literally the plot of arc v hinges on the fact everyone who meets her become just as obsessed with her. and they are totally right to do so

[pinkrabit]

ATLA LA Episode 3 Omashu

"We have our anger. We have our grief.. We have hope." It's good to see a message mildly consistent with the LA and the OG.

Yessss let's kill Ozai

This boys gonna die, huh.

THE FIRELORD THRONE IS SO BEAUTIFUL

Ambush kinda sucks though. God, ozai is such an arrogant bitch. He's perfect.

I love the aspect of fire nation citizens being shone to hate the leadership of the firenation early on.

Little Azula

THIS POOR BOY IS GONNA DIE HE DIDNT DESERVE THIS

Jesus Azula just watching with a mild smirk and her arrogance. She is a mad king. Just like her father. Just like the OG.

Her anger at hearing her brother succeeding in a wild goose chase, if only a little <3

I like Katara being self-taught. It shows her dedication, her appreciation to her (nearly lost) culture, and her accepting help from a master of another element *aang)

"Tap into your feelings" shows trauma of watching her mother die. Her mother is still a major drive. Like the OG

"The monks said I never listened. At least I think that's what they said. I never listened."

WHOSE OUT HERE SAYING AANG ISNT AANG LOOK AT HIM

Sokka being a road trip dad is in 2/3 avatar universes.

Katara teasing Sokka aboit Suki is beautiful

Zhao has already snitched baby boy Zuko

Zuko just being a mild angsty teen instead of extremely angsty is fine but I need more.

Even if Zuko doesn't like Zhao there are rules he has to follow.

"We're fire nation. Even out here." He told himself that his entire banishment in every universe. We HAVE TO KNOW THAT.

OMASHU IS GLORIOUS

"What makes you think we're outsiders??" Aang, my sweet boy, you're not wearing the typical fantasy wear. Your clothes are orange. Not green. Don't you know the nation's base shit off of colors??? Silly goose.

Katara taking the lead to connect feels on brand.

Sokka scoffing at people flirting with his sister!!!!

"STRUCK MUTE AT BIRTH" you just know sokka hates that in every universe

Aang running off like the 12 year old he is.

I like them blending Omashu with the Inventor's story and Teo, actually. I wonder if Bumi knows Sai is giving plans to the firenation.

"There spies are everywhere in the city." ... like you're father..??

Aang once again being u comfortable with the description of violence.

I don't appreciate "Sai" allegedly creating the mail system.

Sokka is acting like a kid in a candy store with all the tinkering stuff. He's such a need.

The bombing! (The G)Aangs reaction!! Aang is having another "I can't be a kid, I'm the Avatar" moment.

Azula raving!!! TY LEE!!! MAI!!

Ty Lee seems quirky enough. Mai is still so sullen. My precious girls.

Azula feeling entitled to the throne for helping Ozai fits so well with the end of the OG.

Sokka volunteering to help the mechanist!!!

WHERE IS KING BUMI. I WANT TO SEE THIS BUFF CRAZY OLD MAN.

Kataras mistakes in her bending 🥺🥺

Oop

PRETTY BOY SAVES KATARA

PRETTY BOY IS JET????

His outfit is so good

I like turning Jet into a more calculated loose canon.

Teo and Aang laughing together 🥹🥹 Aang is acting like a boy !

THE ANKLE MOVE FROM JET

KATARA SUCCESSFUL ATTACK

THE WHISTLE FROM JET

The Duke! Longshot! SMELLERBEE! Pipsqueak!

"We're the good guys." The road to hell is paved with good intentions, Jet.

Sokka gushing about his dad to the Mechanist 🥹🥹

"If not us, then who?"

THE TREE HOMES

Jet get that fucking weed out of your mouth

Anarchist!Jet supremacy

"If not us, then who"

Of course, it's not the fire nation.

I like that the show seems to be keeping up with, to a certain degree, that the "good side" can be bad

Katara and Jet sharing stories about their mothers.

"Lately, [my mother's death] been coming back to me." Because now you're ready to begin healing. You're ready for the memories your mind suppressed. You are ready to feel the anger and injustice. You are now "safe" to do so.

The "Fight with everything you have" message/motif has not been lost in this show. At least with Jet

Her mom <333

Now. I am a kataang shipper. I love their endless devotion and trust in one another. I love how their feelings for each other were so gradual you could hardly see it. They are each others hope and home

BUT.. I really like this katara/jet moment

Zuko, love, you're such a Hater.

THE PAI SHO TILE.

I love the charcoal pencil Azula's using. Pretty accurate, historically, if I remember correctly.

NOT JEE BEING A TRAITOR

Sokka, you brilliant nerd. You're so proud of the bird.

Katara, both Sai and Jet can be traitors. They are not mutually exclusive.

Katara, did I just hear your voice crack??? Sounds like emotional anger, I've been waiting for you to rise.

"I don't need proof for that" yes, Sokka, we know you're an ass and we love you anyway.

JET IF YOU HURT TEO ITS OVER

Jet, you're so unhinged, and true to the OG

Thank you, "sacrifice the few to save the many"

Jet's character is perfect.

ZUKO NOW IS NOT THE TIME

"This guy?? Again??" Yes, Sokka. Love the dry humor.

"This is my fight." No, Aangs. This is an adult's fight.

Zuko I understand you're a highly capable boy. You've worked hard to master bending and fighting, but you're ruining the marketplace atmosphere.

Zuko getting hit by an older woman like a thug is missing. No notes. This wasn't in the OG!

THE MAIL CARRIER ROLLER COASTER

Aang is so done with Zuko already, haha

Aang having Zuko’s diary, omg

"MY CABBAGES"

I like to think bending is similar to adrenaline. Where a fear response becomes strong enough to force your body to do something it otherwise couldn't do. Like with Katara's bending.

IROH BAITING HIMSELF FOR ZUKO AND ZUKO’S LITTLE SCARED FACE

Zuko looks so lost and guilty, after watching an adult sacrifice themselves for him.

Don't worry, my sweet misguided boy, Iroh has friends even if you can't make any.

"Uh, oh" NO SHIT AANG

[spirkkock]

Alright okay okay alright!!!!! I have thoughts. He's all I think about recently so I have lots of thoughts.

I selected that he hooked up with men before/on the expedition but not with Hickey:

I think he's firmly bisexual. I think he'd be unimaginably popular with the ladies, especially ladies of the night, who adore him for being unabashed and unashamed. He's their favorite client. And he's got a handful of them that he frequents and refers to as "his dolls." The marines give him a hard time about it ("In love with a blowsy there, sarge?" ) but he doesn't care at all.

Tozer is also certainly into guys, but in a kind of complicated way. He fooled around with other boys from the time he understood what his dick was for. It was a natural thing for him to do and he wasn't taught that it was immoral or wrong, so it was kind of a natural outcome of his time spent with other young men. It's what he's truly the most comfortable with even in adulthood, just because it's what he's been familiar with for a long time, and he's certainly gotten enough practice with his own prick that he's always good for a quick handy. (Frankly the rumor mill gave him somewhat of a reputation amongst his peers when he was young - they snickered about it, but mostly kept it amongst trusted friends. And anyway, who among them hasn't sought out horny, eager Sol Tozer for a quick romp after the girl they were sweet on shunned them???)

But things did become more complicated as he got into his early adult years and he began to learn about what was proper for young men to be doing (aka certainly not having gay sex with their buddies). So as a young man he's got a propensity for kissing and jerking off the other middle class fellows around the town but once he became old enough to start considering marriage things really took a turn. As he's an adult now and old enough to hear the rhetoric surrounding buggering and sodomy, first he realizes that what he's been doing could get him in serious trouble (both socially and with the law), and second, that there is quite a bit more to gay sex than just getting a hand down the front of your partner's pants. It's unfortunate then that his friends are growing up into Good Moral Citizens seeking Good Moral Wives and are no longer interested in fooling around, and might even be hostile towards him if he even suggested it now.

So around that time he decides to hell with all this and joins the Marines and gets out of (insert name of whatever little hamlet he was from) and ends up in the city (idk Bristol probably). And that's when he ends up at a bawdy house for the first time and finds out about GIRLS. My god - girls, soft, lovely, beautiful girls who smell nice and he can get completely naked with and there's no repercussions for sleeping with them so long as he reports back in the morning when he's supposed to.

So anyway it's through blowsy gossip that he hears about molly houses, thus making his first introduction into the world of actual buggery. Unfortunately, by the time he does get to this point in his life he's internalized a good bit of the rhetoric about sodomy. He's not religious or particularly concerned with morals, but he's spent enough time around the other young marines and their crass language that he's too ashamed and scared to bottom for other men, but he certainly does bugger them quite enthusiastically. And eventually he does learn the pleasures of sucking other men off, which is a real revelation for him.

Thus he develops into a kind of service top???? Of course, he certainly wants to get off at some point in the encounter, but he's really fascinated by what he can do to and for his partners. It gives him a rush, knowing that he holds their pleasure in his hands and that he's the one in that moment who can take care of them. And it's why he's so fucking adored by all of the doxies and mollies - he's rough around the edges and comes off as a typical gruff marine but once he's in your pants he's so stupid attentive and eager to please... every sexworker or mollie he's ever hooked up with is IN LOVE with him.

He has one rule though - he absolutely, under no circumstances, buggers other Marines, which he doubles down on when he's promoted to Sargent. He doesn't want to deal with the complexities of the power dynamics involved in that situation, and besides, they're his brothers. (Stewards though.... maybe he has a bit of a reputation there. They're just generally the softest and the best smelling of the men... and they're almost always mollies to boot. but that's not anyone's business where a man puts his cock while they're on expeditions, is it? It's also none of their business if he's taken occasional liberties with some of the petty officers and maybe also went down on a particularly morose first lieutenant once. Or twice.)

Anyway. As for Hickey - Tozer finds him to be a funny little guy but he's not particularly interested. Sure he seems pretty clean and easy on the eyes, and probably is a right proper shag, but he always seems to be scheming and Sol doesn't want any part in that (until shit hits the fan, that is). But when Crozier venomously spits out that final charge of, "dirtiness." and has Hickey lashed until he can hardly walk... as he watches Hickey stand there, tears pooling in his eyes, his cock out like a humiliating reminder of what he's been doing with it, his punishment made psychological as well as physical... it isn't just Hickey he sees there, but Armitage and Jopson and that damned Mister Peglar, who can't seem to get it through his head that whatever he has going on with that Steward on Erebus is obvious as anything, and Little, who has gone as white as a sheet standing there, as though he hadn't known how badly this would affect him.

So if he tucks some of his tobacco into Hickey's hammock that night, that's no one's business but his own, frankly. And if he's a little more careful from then on when he sneaks away to the orlop deck for a tryst... well that's just part and parcel of being a sodomite in the Discovery Service, he supposes.

Insane question here but I need a distraction from election stuff rn soooooo:

Bonus, if you’re in the mood to speculate/ramble/what-have-you:

If you think Tozer’s queer in some way (or maybe just uhh. The kind of guy to hook up with his bros bc there’s no other options at sea) how do you think he conceptualizes being queer and/or having sex with other men? Do you think there’s some repression/period-typical internalized homophobia there, or do you think he’s more casual about it?

If you don’t think Tozer is queer that’s totally fine too! I’d still like to hear your thoughts if you wanna share them <3

[marrissacooper]

HART OF DIXIE | Pilot