#there are always Perfectly Good Reasons for doing things that hurt others (or for failing to consider that you might)

[blujayonthewing]

I've kind of joked about melliwyk being taken by surprise by her own alignment shift but honestly I think if you could have told her at the beginning of the campaign that she was chaotic neutral she'd have been rather troubled by that

[feralrabidcrow]

The Mercs Driving - Updated

So a bit over a year ago, I made a post about my headcanons around the mercs and their driving abilities. I figured it wouldn't hurt to do a new one! Only because I have been thinking about Scout and driving and decided okay the others can get updated too a bit. As a treat. Who knows, maybe I'll update some other old posts too.

Scout: A little known fact about Scout is that he knows how to hotwire a car. A logical assumption based on this knowledge would be that he can also drive a car. This assumption would be, in fact, false. One of his brothers had taught him how to hotwire, because you never know when you'll be in a tight spot and need to 'borrow' a car. He knows how to drive in the technical sense. He knows how to start a car, where the brakes and accelerator are, et cetera et cetera. But when he actually tries to drive, he's really bad at it.

I believe this is because Scout is small and agile, used to having a lot of flexible mobility. A car, in contrast, is a big metal machine that is very much not flexible. Once he's in a driver's seat, he loses all spatial awareness, and feels awkward and out of place. This is also why he can drive something like a motorcycle, because a motorcycle is small and 'agile' in comparison to a car. RIP Scout TF2 you would have loved Smart Cars. Anyways, in a really dire situation, he can technically drive. He's just really bad at it and is guaranteed to hit something. Traffic laws will be broken.

Soldier: Like Scout, Soldier is an abysmal driver. Unlike Scout, Soldier believes that he is actually a good driver. This makes him a much greater danger around any automobile. He has been known to steal the company van for undisclosed reasons, and it always comes back a little worse for wear. Sometimes when the van disappears, the car keys are still back in the garage where they're meant to be. Also unlike Scout, Soldier doesn't actually know how to operate a vehicle. He just pushes and pulls at things until the car moves forward.

Additionally, the only person who allows Soldier to ride shotgun with them is Demoman. Having Soldier as a passenger is only marginally less dangerous than having him as your driver. He's loud and disruptive, pushes buttons he probably shouldn't, and historically has caused most of the accidents where the driver was someone who actually knows how to drive.

Pyro: No one has seen Pyro drive, and they all assume Pyro can't drive, because they have no way of confirming Pyro can or cannot drive unless they put Pyro behind the wheel. Which is a scary idea in the scenario where Pyro cannot. But the truth is, Pyro not only can drive, but does drive.

It just so happens that by some weird law of the universe (cartoon logic), nobody has noticed this. Somehow, every time Pyro takes the company van out for whatever they want to go do, nobody has any reason to go into the garage and notice the missing vehicle, and nobody needs to find Pyro for anything.

Demoman: Demoman is probably one of the most average drivers of the bunch. He can drive perfectly fine, he obeys traffic laws, and he somehow gets by without any depth perception. However, he has to be in the sweet spot where he's had enough to drink to avoid withdrawal, but he hasn't had so much to drink that he's in a state of incompetence.

There's also the tiny issue that if he gets pulled over, he will automatically fail any breathalyzer test, no matter how much he's had to drink, because his body literally produces its own alcohol. So Demoman is rarely the driver for the full team when they have somewhere to be, and most of his driving is done on his own time.

Heavy: Heavy can drive, and Heavy will drive. But this does not mean that Heavy likes to drive. Because most vehicles are designed for puny baby men, and not giant men who can crush skulls in their fists. Having to be hunched over in a tiny driver's seat puts Heavy in a bad mood, and nobody likes when Heavy is in a bad mood. So he only drives when he absolutely has to, such as in cases where everyone else he is with is unable to drive, such as seen in Expiration Date, where he has to drive because he's with Scout and Soldier, who cannot.

Engineer: Engineer is all around good with vehicles. He knows everything about any automobile you could bring him, and if he doesn't, he'll just take it apart and find out. He can also drive just about anything, with perfect precision and skill. Being a tinkerer, he often takes the opportunity to 'operate' on whatever vehicle he has at his disposal.

This includes those that aren't even his, such as Spy's car. It however does not include Sniper's van, as his first and last attempt almost ended in bloodshed. Spy's car nearly went the same way, but upon seeing how much faster it could go with the upgrades, Spy decided to find it in his heart to forgive the labourer. Sniper was not so easily persuaded.

Medic: Medic never bothered to get a driver's license. It seemed like such a waste of time, to get something he would probably end up losing in the future anyways. If there's anything Medic has learned, it's that licenses are overrated bits of paper, and it's the actual skill that ultimately matters. He happily drives around in his makeshift ambulance, stocked with emergency equipment and small organ refrigerators.

If any police officer dares to pull him over and ask for his license and registration, well, who is he to say no to more free organs? Medic has also had a history of grand theft auto, a most notable example being when he stole a catering van with some doves from a wedding.

Sniper: Sniper feels most at home when he's on the road. He's lived in his van as long as he's had it, that being since he could drive. The van is practically his soulmate. However, there are times when he has to be away from her, such as when he's driving the company van for everyone else. He and Engie are the most common picks for driver, with Sniper being picked just a bit more often. He's especially comfortable driving large bulky vehicles. In another life, Sniper would have been well suited to the life of a professional truck driver.

Spy: Spy drives an extremely expensive cherry red convertible sports car that easily costs more than a house. The car also has the ability to turn invisible for a period of time, which comes in handy when you need to make a getaway. And of course, a broken speedometer, courtesy of Engineer. Spy also knows how to drive a motorcycle, drive a speedboat, and fly a helicopter, but these are skills he employs less often.

[phyrestartr]

The Intern | Miguel O'hara x M!Reader

#NSFW, Age Gap (mid 20s and mid 30s), reader's a homewrecker, Miguel's a cheater, mentions of toxic marriage, male!reader, bussy loading, porn with feelings, Miguel's a bit of a dickhead, top Miguel (for now), bottom reader (for now)

Note: I can't write anything without making it into a series lol I'm writing another part right now leave me alone!!!

-- The Intern --

[ How it Started: 1/2 ] [2/2]

Miguel didn't take interns. He hated them, actually; the way they'd needle him with too many annoying questions, the times they tried flexing their unimpressive knowledge of genetics, the way they'd fail to flirt and catch his eye–all of it ticked him off, made him snap and snuff out their bright, curious flames. He didn't mean to. He didn't want to make future scientists lose steam. But he had a limit, and these day, it was hit way too fucking often.

That didn't change when the tours came through. Actually, between his wife pushing his buttons and the young, bright-eyed scientists eyeing him over, everything just pissed him off more, shortened the limit exponentially. 

And he saw you there, listening to someone with a better temper talk. You didn't look all too impressed. You were maybe a little bored, actually. Your eyes swept across the room in wide arcs, looking for something interesting to land on. That was a feeling Miguel could relate to all too well. 

But your eyes eventually landed on him, somehow. You pursed your lips slowly, like it'd make too much noise otherwise, while your cheeks lifted in amusement. You glanced back to the speaker and back to Miguel, eyebrows gesturing too perfectly: get a load of this guy, eh? 

Miguel's expressionless mask slipped for a moment, and he twitched a smirk. He shook his head and looked back to his work. 

He did, however, glance at you on your way out. You didn't look back at him. 

–

He and Dana agreed to separate. It'd be a momentary thing, a way to work out the kinks in their marriage without more random accusations and hurtful words being thrown at each other on the daily. Miguel didn't want that. He didn't want Gabi to be subject to it, most of all. 

The separation calmed things down quite a bit, down to the point where Miguel wondered why they were arguing so much in the first place; until Dana did a very Dana thing and decided, for some reason, she couldn't take care of Gabi by herself while they were separated. Probably a ploy to get them back together under the same roof. Probably a scheme to manipulate the situation. 

But Miguel could play hardball, too. 

He'd pick Gabi up every day after school, and take her to the lab, but sequestered off in the cafeteria where a security guard was always present. She'd get to snack, she'd do her homework, and Miguel could work knowing she was safe. Not ideal, and maybe a little lonely for her, but easy. 

Checking up on her was another good excuse to walk away from his work, too. And one of the times he passed by, in desperate need of a cup of coffee and boost from his little girl's warm smile, he saw someone sitting with her. 

He watched for a moment as he stirred his coffee. Then, he realized it was you, that random intern from the tour a few months back. You were sat across from her, munching on whatever your late lunch was, and nodding emphatically to whatever his little girl was going on about. Her arms gestured wide and her giggle resonated brightly in the room, drawing some annoyed glances and cooing comments, but you didn't miss a beat, matching her laughter and big gestures. It was nice. 

Miguel's shoulders relaxed a little for once. 

He saw you there more days than not. And the days you weren't there, he often spied Gabi looking around, no doubt wondering where you were. It hurt his heart a bit to see her pout, truth be told, and he started to realize he should probably get to know you if you were inadvertently babysitting his kid. 

So, the next time he found you there, he walked over. 

You were beside her this time, both hunched over her usual tablet full of homework. You were the one gesturing wildly this time, talking too much with your hands as you explained fractions and common denominations and the sort in a way that truly only kids could tolerate and understand. Miguel had to put an end to it if he wanted to talk with you. 

"So, for this one, the little bitch on the bottom is–" 

"Sorry, 'little bitch'?" Miguel interjected, smirking when you jumped and Gabi gasped in delight. "Don't think that's proper terminology. Just a hunch." 

"Daddy!" Gabi called, happily turning in her seat to hug her father. Miguel's mean smile softened into something kinder and gentler.

"Hey, mija. Doing your homework, huh?" He asked as he brushed back his girl's hair. "He's not giving you all the answers, is he?" 

You balked before interrupting yourself. "Woah, hey, no, no, no, I'm makin' her do the stuff 'n the things, don’t worry 'bout it." Woah. Okay. That was a heavy Nueva York accent. Not what Miguel expected. 

"Yeah! I'm doing all the work! Mr.(Name)'s just helping when I get stuck 'n stuff!" Gabi's brows knitted together in concern. "Don't get mad at him!" 

"Yeah, don't get mad at me, Doc–she’s a smart kid, she don’t even need me to do this stuff for her, y’know?” 

“Well, I already knew that.” Miguel smirked as you huffed. He sat down on the other side of Gabriella and peered across her tablet at you. “You’re an intern, right? You were at the–”

“The tour, yeah.” You nodded a bit and propped your elbow up on the table before resting your cheek against your palm to watch Gabi solve her equations. “Saw you, too. You looked pretty pissed.”

“Intern day isn’t my favourite day,” Miguel offered with an unbothered shrug. 

“Yeah, I figured. You looked like you wanted to light ‘em on fire." 

"I could've, but then I'd be out a free part-time babysitter."

You laughed lightly, and Miguel caught the charming dip of dimples light up your face. "Oh, so that's how it is, huh? Guess I ain't mad at that. Gabi's a good kid, reminds me of my niece." 

Miguel raised his brows a bit. A niece. "Huh. Guess that explains a lot." 

"Dunno what you mean by that, but I'm gonna hope it's a good thing." 

Miguel smiled a bit. "It's a good thing." 

You smiled, too, though a bit more smug and proud. "Yeah? Good." You glanced up at the clock on the wall and sighed, the cute tilt to your lips suddenly vanishing. 

Gabi caught on and sent a powerful pout your way. "Already?" 

"Yeah, sorry, chica. Gotta get back to work." You stood up and offered your hand to Miguel. "Didn't introduce myself. I'm (Name)." 

Hm. Miguel liked how that sounded. 

"Miguel. Miguel O'hara." But you probably already knew that, though you had the decency not to point it out. 

"Nice to meetcha, Doc." 

You shook his hand and ruffled up Gabi's hair before seeing yourself out, a sudden haste in your scrambling steps as you checked the time again. Hah. You must've been late for something. 

"He's nice," Gabi said. Miguel's eyes fell back to her. 

"You think so?" He's not bad-looking, either. "You're okay with him? You feel safe?" 

"Ah-huh, ah-huh. He's not mean." Her big brown eyes sparkled up at Miguel, then. "I like 'im! Are you gonna be friends with him?" 

Miguel glanced back your way, surprised to see you standing by the elevators and glancing back at him. You looked away when you got caught, but turned back again with a little wave, like you’d realized turning away looked awkward and suspicious and had to rectify it. 

A light smirk tugged at Miguel’s lips. “Yeah, maybe.”

–

It started with chatting at lunch. Then, it turned into light touches on the shoulder and your thieving hands plucking whatever sort of drink or snack Miguel held in tired hands. And then, well, it just got worse. 

Miguel growled into your ear as he held you pinned against the wall, his hips slamming up against yours, driving himself deep into your core. To your credit, you held your voice well, only letting the slightest peeps and squeaks out when the older man happened to hit your soft spot in his wild momentum. It’s not that it would’ve mattered, though; the Halloween party’s music blared too loudly in the cafeteria for anyone to hear you getting fucked braindead in Miguel’s office. 

“Mmmmnnn–Doc, wait, wait, ow, ow, ow–” Your thighs constricted around his waist in a panic as you hissed and dug your blunt nails into his massive shoulders. 

Miguel paused his cruel tempo and finally took a second to breathe. “I–what? You okay?” He asked, brushing some of your messy hair from your face. The corner of his mouth quirked with amusement as he was reminded of the dried fake blood trailing down your mouth, and the glue-on fangs you had set to your canines. You looked quite cute as a fucked-out vampire intern, he had to admit. 

You nodded weakly as you panted. “Y-Yeah, ‘m good, you’re good.” You tilted your head back and bonked it on the wall behind you, no doubt influenced by the alcohol in your veins. “This wall sucks. Hurts my back.” 

Ah. Miguel probably shouldn’t care. This was just a fling, some stress-relief from his frustrating marriage.

But he was too weak, apparently. “Tch. Picky,” Miguel scolded into your ear before pulling you off the wall. 

“Picky?” You repeated, clinging to him desperately. 

“Incredibly picky.” He walked a few steps, carrying you with his cock still buried deep inside of you, and rested you on his pristine desk instead. “Better?” 

You sighed and pulled your shirt down more while you both got situated. “Yuh-huh.” You looked at him with that infuriating, lazy smile and wriggled your hips against him. “Continue.” 

Miguel’s eye twitched. He couldn’t help but feel like he was accidentally subservient to you for that split second. He was supposed to be in control, not you. 

“Smug brat,” Miguel scoffed before hoisting your legs over his shoulders and pistoning into you cruelly. 

His core ached with want as you arched beautifully off his desk, and through the buzz of booze, he admired you; your own heavy cock wept against your stomach as your diaphragm stuttered with each needy dive into your messy heat. Your face flushed a captivating crimson while your eyes fluttered and shone with unspent tears clinging to your lash line. Then, your stupid costume teeth bit into your lower lip as your voice started to break free from its restraints and pushed by your bobbing Adam’s apple, letting new whimpers and clipped moans fill his office. 

“Doc,” you whined, screwing your eyes closed and fisting your hand around your length. “Doc–” 

Oh. Oh no. You were cute. Really cute in the way you started letting out bubbling praise and babbled wants, in the way your free hand clawed at his arm to just touch him and hold him while your high threatened to push you off the edge and into that endless spiral. Miguel hadn’t felt this wanted in a long, long time. He hadn’t been showered in praise, told how good he was, given someone’s full attention for even longer. 

He couldn’t remember the first time he came first, either. 

Because he did, with his teeth clenching, his thrusts breaking down into something erratic and out of tempo, he spilled inside of you. Electricity pulsed through every synapse of his nerves, bringing a wash of cool, prickling energy to his palms and curling fingers as he gripped on you harder, tighter, jamming himself inside of you with a reckless abandon. 

“D-Did you–?” You asked. Miguel caught your gaze, and another gush emptied out of him–your eyes, wide and doe-like in surprised amazement, were too captivating, too endearing. And when you realized that, yes, you’d made him cum first, you were quick to reach the same peak. 

Miguel was the one to moan this time. Your body clenched down around him in desperation to hold him still while your own white-hot bliss ripped through you. Pearly strands of white roped across your trembling hand and your stomach, one after the other, until there was nothing left to give. But with a sharp slap to your ass, Miguel found there was just a little more you could both give. 

“Good boy,” Miguel mumbled, voice thick and full where it trilled. He gave you another good spank. “Good boy.” 

Miguel slowed his hips gradually, slowly catching his breath in tandem with your wild panting as the afterglow stayed where the too-hot sear faded. His nerves relaxed with his body. His mind soon followed suit, too, which was a problem and a relief; a problem because he didn’t feel a shred of guilt, but relief in the realization of how simple this exchange was. Just sex. With someone he could tolerate.

“Shit,” you breathed. You glanced down at the mess you’d become, and grimaced. “C-Can a good boy get a, uh, a tissue or, like, five?” 

Miguel rolled his eyes. He popped open one of the drawers to his desk and pulled out a tissue box and set it beside you before, like the bastard he was, he pulled out of you without warning and watched your hole clench around nothing before glossy whiteness oozed out of you. He ignored your sharp complaints in favour of enjoying the show and meanly stuffing his cum back into you before, for a third time, giving you a slap on the rear like you were a good ol’ used truck. 

Miguel snatched the first tissue to clean himself up and tossed it away, tucking himself back into his pants and straightening his clothes out like nothing happened, before turning and walking away. 

“Hey, wh–seriously?!” You cried (or whined, or complained) at his back. 

Miguel smirked to himself before calling over his shoulder, “Make sure you clean my desk up, too. I’ll get you kicked out of the program if it’s not in perfect condition tomorrow morning.” 

But he almost crumbled under your sweet, cooing pleas for him to come back, to stay a little longer, but thankfully, a whirlwind of petty insults were thrown at his back when he reached the door. And he found the strength to keep going, to subject you to his little game. 

A cruel game of torturing his favourite intern.

[thewickedkat]

long post incoming; meta enthusiasts may wish to digest this in chunks.

i am so completely exasperated with Laudna as of the latest episode. however, i temper that exasperation with my enjoyment as a viewer; indeed, i am feasting on the conflict, thinking finally, some good fucking food, because i think (and have always thought) that Laudna is terrifically interesting as a character and she presents wonderful opportunities for growth not only on her end, but as a catalyst for others.

that being said. the sword. how she handled it. how she handled her own trauma bubbling up, how she handled (or didn't) Delilah, how she handled Orym and Chetney and Dorian and the whole miserable mess she made.

it was selfish. there. i said it. you may disagree with me, i care not, but her course of action was terribly selfish and destructive.

i know many people out there have been likening her behaviour to that of an addict's (and there are many common factors there: the hiding, the lying by omission, the shame, the acquiescence to bad behaviour), but i think in some ways that to do so is reductive, and also removes agency from Laudna herself.

she is allowing her trauma to almost make her decisions for her, allowing it to define her, and she is not giving herself the opportunity to realise that growth beyond it is possible--or, perhaps, she does realise this and is simply too afraid to reach out and grasp it. i think even if Delilah weren't trying to subsume her, Laudna would still be self-sabotaging and self-destructive and still try to hide the parts of her she felt were undesirable; Delilah in many ways simply makes it easier for Laudna to do so and, if pressed, provides a rationalisation for Laudna's choices and actions (as in 'it wasn't me, it was her, she made me do it).

first and foremost, Laudna was a victim of heinous trauma, being murdered and then being put on grotesque display. then she was further traumatised in coming back from the dead and being forced to isolate herself from people for many years, with only Delilah's honeysweet venom dripping into her ear for that time. then she is murdered again as an object lesson for the woman she loves, then stuffed down so deep into her own psyche by the one who first killed her; she is fought for and brought back by her friends...who then seem to do little to check in with her, to make sure she is stable, or coping, because they each have their own baggage and oh by the way, the world is possibly ending. to be fair, there is little time for therapy and stability when you are literally running from crisis to crisis and trying to stop something you haven't even conceived of in your nightmares.

she feels dismissed, often, minimised, and she never developed healthy people skills or coping mechanisms (i am sorry but as much as i love Pâté, a dead rat does not a support group make). so she lashes out, has poor emotional regulation, and Does Crappy Things. so i also understand when she said 'what else have i to give, but myself?'

all that being said. what she did with Orym and the sword was fucking selfish. she is behaving like a child, as if she is the only one whose tragedies matter; she's playing Oppression Olympics, and can i just point out that Orym was the one to say 'i'm sorry' but Laudna never apologised for accosting him while he slept and hurting him? saying 'i didn't mean to hurt you' is not the same, because that implies that if she had not hurt him, stealing from him was perfectly acceptable and reasonable.

i don't believe her when she said 'i accept responsibility' because that means one must accept the consequences of their own actions, and right after she said that, she argued with everyone, told the oldest member of the Hells that he had no right to talk about loss to her, and then fled. that isn't accepting responsibility; that is mouthing platitudes in the hopes you will sway others to your point of view and when it fails, leaving in a huff like a child having a tantrum.

she didn't even bother to ask Orym why he kept the sword. she just tried to take.

Laudna often reacts from a place of fear: of pain, of more trauma, fear of inadequacy, of loss. all of these fears are valid. they are understandable, given all that has happened to her. but just because her fears are valid does not give her the right to make others pay for her emotional baggage. this is what makes her behaviour in ep 95 selfish. all of her actions in the back half of that episode are things she chose to do, and now she must sit in the mess she made. Laudna seems to be falling into the same mental rut that many victims fall into when their trauma isn't dealt with in a healthy fashion: they start fucking others over, as if being a victim excuses it. it does not.

and before others come for me, i say that as one who used to do the same fucking thing but i was lucky enough to have therapy. Laudna doesn't have that luxury--none of the Hells do. there simply isn't time to make space for any of their issues, not just Laudna's. Imogen is still wrestling with her mother; Fearne is wrestling with her parentage; Orym is just trying to keep his feet under him and do what he feels is right without betraying anyone he cares for (yes, including Laudna, shut up); Ashton is still trying to process the loss of Fresh Cut Grass (for gods' sakes, the crafting night was a fucking wake for the lil guy); Dorian just lost his brother and watched his friend succumb to a Betrayer God that turned her into a monster; and Chetney? Chetney is an old man who, i personally think, can pick his battles and knows how to compartmentalise better than any of these kids.

Laudna is not unique in that she has suffered horribly. no one is saying she hasn't, but her behaviour implies that she believes they are saying that. her actions imply she believes not only that she does not trust her friends (thanks, Dorian), but that acknowledging others' losses somehow negates hers. there just isn't time to healthily process any of this, which sucks. it does. i do think her friends love her, care for her deeply, and i think part of the reason they haven't checked up on her as much as they could is because a) they're afraid that her problem with Delilah is much worse than they thought (duh, it is); b) they can't fix the Delilah Problem right now even if they were qualified to do so (even Pike couldn't scour that bitch out of Laudna, she said as much); and c) they run the very substantial risk of wholly alienating Laudna if they press the issue too hard, thus not only losing an asset in the fight against the Vanguard and Ludinus, but also a friend and lover.

it's shit, all around, we all know that. but to pretend that it's okay she did what she did to Orym--or worse, somehow transfer responsibility from her onto him and make it his fault--is infantilising and disingenuous at best, and more than a little insulting.

[beenbaanbuun]

Not sure if this is a request or me just going insane after reading your dumbification yeo fic but oop-

Been thinking about jealous Yeosang nonstop since then because I always get a little disappointed when fics paint him as this super passive, open lover. I mean it's all well and good to be someone who's genuinely okay with their partner having multiple partners/being kinda flirty, but I honestly don't see him as the type to be that chill

I mean sure he wouldn't exactly be as loud or aggressive about it as sayyy.... Joong or Sannie, I am a switch!Yeosang enthusiast after all, but I still think he'd get upset if he saw you being too chummy with one of your guy friends or one of the other members.

Early on in the relationship it would probably be all cute, he gets pouty and quiet, maybe clingy after and he needs lots of affirmation and assurance before he feels secure again.

But once he's comfortable with you? C'mon, you CANNOT tell me he's not the type to pin you against the door as soon as you get home, hands and lips desperately latching on to you as you clutch at his hair, deep voice muffled by your skin as he seethes over That Guy who kept hitting on you or how Wooyoung was a little too touchy for his peace of mind (woo totally did it on purpose btw).

And oh my god if those angry growls turn desperate? If you're not responding verbally cuz you're just so overwhelmed by everything that's Yeo?? And he suddenly whines into your neck and nuzzles your pulse point seeking verbal affirmation??? And you grip his hair and he whimpers when you tug so he has to look you in the eye?????

I need to calm tf down before I drop a whole 1.5k word smut fic in your ask box but you get the idea XDD

Jealous yeo lives rent free in my brain and you're writing has him running LAPS TwT we as a fandom have failed to have enough yeosang smut on the market and it Saddens Me

~Lyra

i am CLINICALLY INSANE!!!!!!!! WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME 😭😭😭

like i’m sorry but i can imagine him just pinning you to the door, fully clothed, and grinding up against you. his mouth is just on your neck, sucking, biting, kissing at your flesh until its mottled with purple bruises. like there’s literally no rhyme or reason, he’s just that desperate to his his mouth on you and mark you up that he barely gives you a minute to think straight.

like you’re still both fully dressed and your back is still presses uncomfortable against the door, but that doesn’t stop yeosang from bucking his hips up into yours, dry humping you because he doesn’t have the patience with you right now. he needs you to know that you’re his and his alone.

“can’t fucking believe you,” he growls before biting down on the soft flesh. you keen at the sensation, legs going weak. you’re glad he has you pinned to the door; if he didn’t, you might fall, “all over that guy as if you don’t have a perfectly good boyfriend who takes care of you. what? did you just want my attention? because now you have it.”

you whimper as he grinds down hard against your pelvis, his clothed hard-on rubbing so deliciously against your folds. you want him in you, but with everything that’s going on, you can barely think, let alone talk.

“s-sangie-” you choke out, trying to tell him how bad you need him, but you’re cut off by the whine that claws it’s way up your throat.

“what?” he grunts into your neck, “you want to tell me something?”

you nod, but no words come out. yeosang chuckles darkly into your neck.

“go on then, baby,” his teeth graze against you, threatening to add to the purple bruises that run up and down your skin, “if you’re going to tell me anything, tell me how bad you need me.”

you know it’s an ego thing. of course it is; yeosang was obviously hurt when he saw you flirting with the other man, and now it’s your job to repair that. and you would, if you could hold a thought for more than two seconds. you’d love nothing more than to stroke his ego, make him feel all big and powerful and like he’s the only man in the world.

but you just can’t. every time you open your mouth, you lose your train of thought and all that comes out is a few pants as yeosang tears your mind down to nothing. you cant even focus when he pulls back a little, studying your face with glassy eyes before diving right back into your neck. he doesn’t suck, or bite, or kiss this time. he just nuzzles the sticky skin with his nose, mumbling almost incoherent words against it.

“baby,” he says after a moment or two, voice a little breathier than before, “baby, please tell me me how much you need me. need to hear it.”

his tongue darts out and he begins to lap one of the bite marks, as if trying to soothe it. it only makes your mind race more.

as do the continuous whimpers that you can hear spilling into the air, only this time they’re not from you. they’re from yeosang.

yeosang who is still grinding into you, albeit with sloppier, softer motions than before. who is still pinning you to the wall, only with a more desperate grip, as if you’ll slip away if he lets go. who still has his face pressed against your neck, words slipping from his mouth, but now they beg rather than degrade.

“baby, please,” he whispers, and you feel something wet fall against your neck; a tear, “i need you tell tell me you need me.”

he sounds so pathetic, crying into your neck like that, and it soon sinks in that the tables have turned without you even really realising. the man that had pinned you to the door minutes prior, wanting nothing more than to teach you a lesson, had vanished. he’s been replaced by your baby boy, who was so desperate to hear how much you wanted him. so desperate to know that you loved him as much as he loved you.

you try your hardest to gather your thoughts, just enough for you to be able to scrape together a sentence or so. but with yeosang bucking against you like a dog in heat, its so incredibly hard. add that to the fact that he’s gone back to suckling at your neck like its going to bring him some sort of comfort and there’s no way you were getting a coherent sentence out.

so you lace you fingers into his hair, grateful of how long it had gotten, and tug. he lets out a long whimper, eyes rolling into the back of his head as you tug his far enough back to see his face. you tug again, wordlessly pleading for him to look at you. just once would be enough for him to see how thoroughly mindless he has you already. just once for him to understand that he is all you can think about right now.

[yoru-no-seiiki]

SERIOUSLY, MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI, I WILL FUCK YOUR MOM WHILE YOU PLAY ROBLOX.

link to [part one] for those unfamiliar w/ my yan! cool kid works

@yuiiasathesilly both parents actually. these three come from a relatively affluent family. someone has to pay for all the hairdye yan! cool kid uses. in fact the both are them are kinda disappointed that the boys haven’t been using their resources as much as they want em to. cool kid has abused it the most, having an entire apartment ready for yan! reader to be kept in

@onyanjune mc does have backups! and good eye. the reason why they only deleted it in their phone is cause it’s what they have on them at all times. meaning that they’re giving our prez some leeway instead of immediate action in terms of blackmail.

in terms of their efforts, it’s purely cause they want their integration into the family to be smooth sailing. before yan! loser was an outcast he used to be pretty well known for his rich family, his brothers, and his high grades. yan! reader noticed that he usually kept to himself and suffered a little bit in terms of his siblings outshining him so much so they set out with that plan to make him completely reliant on them. it was mostly a backup that they had for yan! cool kid but he’s too above other people in general to care. same with yan! prez.

they aren’t trying to make their beloved jealous, hell they’d die if they ever accidentally hurt him in any way, shape, or form. yan! reader worships him too much. it’s more of side effect if anything. they do like to pretend as if they don’t think about him 24/7. which is frankly more annoying to yan! cool kid since he can’t exactly threaten/beat up his future spouse like he can with his brothers.

anyways off to our scenario (inspired by @carnivorousyandeere and i’s talk about sex positive/liberal parents lol)

“dad, i’m going to pursue someone from my class.” yan! cool kid leaned back and forth, rocking his dinner chair.

“oh? that’s great son. i was worried that someone as handsome as you wouldn’t put your face to good use.”

“yes yes, your father and i were worried that you weren’t bringing anybody home. all of our colleagues keep talking about how their children have been sleeping around but here we are with your monk of an eldest son and shut-in of a youngest.”

ouch.

“when i found out that all those condoms we bought you weren’t being used for sex i was devastated!”

“right son! and the lingerie sweetie! tell them about the lingerie!”

“mother, father! we’re eating!” yan! president yelled. he was already used to his parent’s lack of respect for privacy. it wasn’t their crude words that made him uncomfortable, it was the fact that his younger brother was coveting what was already his.

but his mother, as always, does not listen, “and we spent a lot of time getting those for you three to enjoy. and for what?”

“well, who is this lucky person?”

“they’re—“

“i’m full.” yan! loser stood up, wiping the food off his face and leaving. the door to the dining room slammed shut with a bang at his wake.

“as i was saying, they’re my classmate. the one whose house i went to before.”

“oh! the one whose pictures you have all over your room.”

“. . . yes.” yan! cool kid almost regurgitated out his drink from their nonchalant invasion of his room. his rebellious instincts told him to scream at them and question their behavior. but if he wanted to get their help he had to play into his role perfectly.

“oh son! just tell us what we have to do, we’ll support you all the way.”

bingo!

or not.

there was one thing yan! cool kid failed to factor into the equation. the fact that yan! president had been doing such a play since before the younger one even learned how to talk.

“what’s wrong, pumpkin?”

yan! president began his part with a gag. an expression of guilt, disgust and a hint of grief.

“it’s just that. . . i was planning on asking them out too.” and then, the tears. “they actually work as the secretary to the council and . . . no one else has been there for me like they have.”

“oh dear.” their mother looks at the two of them in worry. she already knew this was going to get messy quick.

“i’m sorry, dearest brother. i just can’t bear the thought of losing them.”

“you—“ yan! cool kid slammed his hands on the table. now at his full height which causes his chair to fall behind him. his fist pulled back, ready for impact and aimed squarely on the bridge of yan! president’s glasses.

“why don’t we all calm down, okay?” but their father manages to pull him back, overpowering the young man easily. with a smile he eases yan! cool kid away while their mother held yan! president in her arms. “we’ll think of a way for both of you boys to get what you want.“

“you. prepare a room for a new addition to our home.” their mother spoke, her fingers running through her son’s locks “we’re family we’ll get through this together.”

meanwhile under the cover of dark. . .

yan! loser pants, a hand in his pants as he pumped his cock to full mast. his meager, melodic moans muffled by one of your used pe uniforms covered in dried sweat and your scent. his eyes trained at the video of his eldest brother taking you.

he hated it. hated the way you seemed to be enjoying it (you weren’t). but since they looked alike it was the closest he could get to an image of you and him together. even if his brother couldn’t last a few rounds.

he moans one last time as he releases his spent into a condom, swiftly tying and throwing it to the rest of the pile that threatened to spill over from within the bin.

in his post masturbation haze, he wonders how all that liquid would look inside you instead and whines as he feels the blood rush back down there again.

[cheriiepies]

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader

Warnings: swearing, angst, enemies to lovers

Note: This is my first fiction, and I know it is not perfect. But I will try to improve. Btw, big thanks for @papaya-twinks as she helped me with this fiction a lot!! SO THANK YOU POOKIE(((ＵωＵ｀ *)(* ´ＵωＵ))).

Since the karting days the relationship between you and Charles was sour. It felt like any opportunity for bonding or getting to know each other was filled with long arguments over stupid things, fights, battles (and stubborness)

It was a race weekend and you were walking in the paddock towards your team ready to do some media work and content for the fans with your *favorite* teammate, Charles. Those challenges you did for the youtube or instagram is always filled with passive aggresivness or extreme competition.

As you were reaching the Ferrari garage you heared a familiar voice calling you over:

-"Y/n! Charles! Here you guys are. I need to speak to you two , alone". Charles glanced at you briefly:

-"What did you do now?"

-"Well hello to you too, Charles. I am fine how are you? And for the record the last time we were called in his office was when you fucked our race up!"

"Oh, get over it. Not my problem that you cannot control a wheel". You rolled your eyes at that trying very hard to not bite back

They entered the office seeing a very serious Fred looking at them.

"I hope you guys know that I won't tolerate any crashes that happened between you because you were too stubborn to listen to your race engineers!"-he said his voice rising at the end as this was certeanly not a rare inCHident(got that?). "We have the ability to get the podium as the car is perfectly suited for this circuit. P3 and P4 are not a bad starting position. We have to get the most out of this opportunity. Understood?". Both of them agreed, trying to talk less as it would cause more arguments.

"I won't let you ruin my race again y/n" charles said as they were leaving the office for an interview that would start in 20 minutes. "Can say the same about you. You can not tolerate me being ahead of you. It seems to be hurting your ego. The only reason you can secure podiums is because of the team orders. " He could only chuckle at that finding the idea amusing. "Well, the reason is I am the better driver in this team, so you do as the orders say." "Fuck you Charles! You act like you are all that, when in reality, all you do is blame the car or me when something fucks your race up, but it is you. Maybe you should get your head out of your ass and realise that you are not as good?" Ypu knew he was a good driver. But you still liked pushing his buttons. Charles could only glare at you not wanting to say things he will regret later. It was just a silent walk after that as they all sat in their beloved places during the interview.

Timeskip: the race

-“Right, Y/N, we’re starting in P4, let’s see if we can optimise this position,” your engineer spoke calmly. You replied with a simple and calm ‘yes’, knowing fully well of your own motive. Beat Charles. He’d already been a right ass about having qualified P3, one spot ahead of you, by less than a tenth, and what you wanted? To wipe his filthy little smirk away.

And so the formation lap begun, your eyes fixed on the rear wing of your teammate’s car, watching as he drove round the circuit. Five lights. Out. Instantly, you tried, and failed, to overtake him, feeling the threat of the number four car behind you. “Fuck,” you hissed, pressing harder to get away from him, your eyes trained on Charles. Sure, the team HAD warned you two on how these constant fiery battles could end up costing you the win or points at the minimum, but you were not one to back down. And neither was Charles, apparently. After 40 laps the cars ahead of you were starting to pit. It was an easy overtake to p3 and charles p2. But you wanted more. So you tried to overtake Charles even if your race engineer told you not to, as it is not safe with the tyres and they did not want to risk anything. As you were trying to overtake the wheels touched and it sent the both of you out of the track ulitametly crashing each other.

"What the fuck was that!" Charles was rigtfully angry. It was the perfect moment to secure P2 or even get a P1. You both got out of the car. You wanted to apoligize for ruining his race.

"Hey, I am sorry it was an accident, I miscalucilated and- "shut the fuck up! You always do this, why couldn't you just listen?. And now we are both out of the race. Do you realise how dangerous your driving is? Maybe they were all right about you. You do not deserve your seat! It is a miracle you could even get out of F3 alive!" He kept going on about how undeserving you are of the seat. It hurt you more than you cared to admit. Even if you disliked Charles(or so you thought), his validation and approval was still something you craved. You admired him since the beggining of your F1 rookie season. You looked up at him trying to hide your tears- " I said sorry, mistakes happen. I hope you forgive me . I have to go". Charles felt guilty at his harsh words suddenly realising that you did not deserve all that shit. He wanted to apologize but you were already gone. He was zoning out while the reporters asked about the crash, replaying it on the screens. All he could think of is how sad you looked when he was lashing out on you. He did not see you all day, not on the paddock not,after the race. You where nowhere to be seen.

It was already late, he could not sleep. The guilt was eating Charles up, his harsh words replaying in his mind. The way you looked so sad. It bothered him a lot, he did not actually wanted to hurt your feelings, he wasn't thinking right saying those things. With out thinking much his worry carried him towards your hotel room. Charles slowly knocked on the door, not hearing anything he slowly opened it.

" y/n? Are you here? I am so sorry about what I said. I wasn't thi-". Charles stopped talking as soon as he saw you laying on your bed with red teary eyes. Hair disheveled, laying on your bed trying to wipe your cheeks. "Hey, hey. Are you crying because of today? " he instictively came closer to you, wanting to comfort you. "I am so sorry, I did not want to ruin your race! You were right about me , maybe I am a bad driver. You have all the rights to hate me"- you rambled, trying not to cry again. "I was mad and said things that weren't true. You are a great driver y/n even if I tell you otherwise. I was an asshole and it was unfair of me to say hurtful words like that. Accidents happen. And for the record, I do not hate you. " Not realising Charles was holding y/n close, hugging her, not wanting her to cry anymore. Charles denied his protectivness over y/n, though his actions spoke otherwise. It made her feel butterflies in her stomach even if she tried to deny it.

"I forgive you too. You had every right to be mad at me. And I do not hate you either. Not at all. " You suddenly felt shy at the position you were in. But he still kept you close, gently looking at you. There was something else happening at the way you looked at each other so softly. He slowly leaned in, giving you the chance to back away if you did not want this. But you both wanted this. His lips were soft and gentle as he held your cheek and carrased your hair lovingly. As you pulled away, he gently whispered, "I can never hate you."

[ikamigami]

I always personally disliked Eclipse as to me, he was just Moon but without the title of "brother"(not that that made Moon's treatment okay, if anything it makes Moon worse because siblings should NEVER treat their other siblings like Moon treats Sun)

I get how he's angry and traumatized from being trapped in Moon's mind but what he took from it was completely incorrect, instead of realizing the one who did this to him was Moon, Moon discarded him and locked him away, he never realized Moon had ensured Eclipse couldn't be heard by doing that, he seriously thinks Sun was ignoring him when Sun flat out had no clue he was there and likely the Fazco techs never noticed anything and Moon likely lied to Sun that there was nothing there because he knew Eclipse was there, Moon is solely to blame for Eclipse's situation, and YET he blames Sun, who's just as much of a victim as him, he seriously saw what Moon was doing to Sun and his own situation and somehow went "Sun's the bad one"?

It's just like how Moon blamed Sun for their shared situation even though the Creator made them that way on purpose and Fazco let them rot, and neither he or Moon ever realized that had they been nicer their freedom would've been achieved faster? Sun was more than willing to help Moon and tried extending a hand to Eclipse despite thinking Eclipse caused July 16th, but both made themselves out to be serious threats to Sun's life and other people's lives and gave him no choice

It makes me wonder if Eclipse inherited part of Moon's hateful grudge towards Sun for locking him away, but just like Moon rather than realizing Sun actually had a good reason for that(aka he had no other choice, it sucks but nobody helped him, he didn't have the ability to do anything else, and Moon kept killing people, seriously what is he supposed to do?), it wasn't out of selfishness or malice, and Sun would've rather never had to do that to Moon, he would've rathered they coexisted, and Eclipse, despite claiming he's better than Moon, never grew up enough to realize that?

It also didn't help that after July 16th when he introduced himself he made himself out to be the bad guy, Sun and Moon had no idea Bloodmoon was a thing, to Sun all he knows is there's another presence in his head and it just killed all those people, and to Moon, he knows exactly what's in Sun's head and he thinks that that's what caused July 16th because he knew he left the killcode in there like an idiot, and what does Eclipse do when he makes himself known? Takes over Sun's body to laugh in his face, good job incriminating yourself for a crime you didn't commit

I half suspect the reason why he's so cruel to Sun is, like Moon, he knows Sun is too kind(Eclipse thinks cowardly but he's wrong) to fight back, ergo, there's no consequences to hurting him, because he'll keep being kind and forgiving, that Sun is easy prey, and we know both he and Moon think that because both are shocked when they shove Sun past his breaking point, which takes a lot, that and the fact that they enjoy hurting Sun, Sun's they're perfect victim since they could be endlessly cruel and torment Sun and Sun for the longest time never fought back, and both of them enjoyed hurting Sun, if Moon and Eclipse tried this with anyone else it'd backfire, heck when Eclipse tried manipulating Earth back when he had the Star he flat out failed because she was not cowed by him whatsoever, and Lunar eventually left him after he had enough and Lunar even killed Eclipse when Eclipse pushed him too far…Speaking of

The guy literally built Lunar to be his perfectly loyal and loving little brother and yet through his cruel behavior and him hitting Lunar Lunar ran away, he managed to drive away somebody he built to be brainwashed for and unflinchingly loyal to him, that's both a testament to his cruelty and how even when he's presented the perfect opportunity to not be alone, to get what he wants, to be loved and have a family, he ruins it with that aforementioned cruelty because he like Moon can't help himself, even if he "learned siblings act like this from Sun and Moon" does that really make it right?

Another thing I wonder is if he built Lunar to be like how he perceives Sun to be: always loving, always loyal, childish, stupid, naive, and selfish, and yet then we see how that backfires as unlike Sun, Lunar would not tolerate Eclipse's abuse, he would not forgive Eclipse if pushed too far and would take action against him if Eclipse kept going, that the love he had for Eclipse to begin with faded when Eclipse hurt him, which goes to show how Eclipse's perception of Sun(seen through Lunar) completely misrepresents and is inaccurate to who Sun actually is, people like to cite how Eclipse might've killed Lunar out of spite because Lunar "betrayed" him, if Eclipse held the role of Moon and Lunar was meant to be Sun in their dynamic, Lunar went against the script by standing up for himself and cutting Eclipse out of his life, as opposed to Sun who even now gives Moon a chance after everything, but that's just an idea

Eclipse has always tried ruining Sun's life and hurt him, it goes far beyond retribution(retribution for crimes Sun never committed) into torture, and he always think terribly of Sun, that Sun is a weakling, a coward, worthless, just as selfish and evil as he is, and that Sun deserves to suffer, and there's no excuse for that no matter what reason there might be, some might say "he's mad at Sun for not fighting back against Moon", then why did he decide to double Sun's suffering rather than try to help/encourage him to be stronger? If Eclipse was so lonely and wanted companionship Sun was right there! It's also clear that this isn't the reason since he would always call Sun a coward and just like Moon beat Sun down any time Sun did stand up to him, him blaming Sun for his imprisonment is stupid as it was Moon's fault, not Sun's, others might say "he hates himself" and so what? You don't tear others down to make yourself feel better that's what bullies do, and then there's the reason that I suspect for his behavior:

He enjoys it, he likes hurting Sun because it's fun for him, we've heard him laugh about it before, that he believes all these incorrect things about Sun and therefore he feels justified in being awful to him, and when Sun's not his personal punching bag Sun's his tool for getting petty revenge on Moon

Also for that matter, why did he never seriously confront Moon on abandoning him? If Eclipse is deserving of any kind of justice then by all rights he should chew Moon out for sealing him away, he's more than in the right for chastising Moon for that, yet that never happened weirdly, and why not start to heal from that through therapy and/or introspection rather than just lashing out at everybody?

He, like Moon, absolutely refuses to even entertain the idea that he was the one in the wrong and will jump through every mental hoop he can to avoid that, it's never "hm maybe I did something wrong" and it's always instead "it's everyone else but me" or "I'm bad so what", he never realized that most of the bad things in his life were his own fault

Sun fighting him for control? Sun would've shared if Eclipse wasn't an active threat to him and Moon, Sun hating him? He tortured Sun to his breaking point, Lunar disowning him and allying with Sun and Moon? He abused Lunar badly enough to chase him away, Bloodmoon becoming a loose canon? He discarded Bloodmoon when he fulfilled his purpose and became too unruly for Eclipse's liking, the Star slowly killing him? He sat on his hands having an existential crisis rather than using the Star to upgrade his body in an instant so it wouldn't kill him like every other Eclipse with the Star did, Sun and Nexus killing him? That's the culmination of all his terrible actions finally catching him

I could go on, and yet he still wonders why he's lonely, it took the guy dying four times, one being to Lunar, and being turned into a puppet by Ruin and later Dark Sun for him to finally give some sort of apology to Lunar, but never to Sun, to his first victim, he says he's done hating and yet now we're seeing him continue to be spiteful and bitter towards Sunlight and Moonlight in the new dimension and feel vindicated in his abuse of Sun through dealing with Sunlight

Like seriously why don't people want him to ACTUALLY improve and be a better person? I don't want him dead, I want to see him improve, or at the very least actually earn making a new life for himself by making amends with his old victims, he did that with Lunar, who not Sun? If he does apologize to Sun genuinely and recognize what he he did rather than running away I'd die happy…

Sorry that this is long and with all the talks on Eclipse's regression I wanted to pitch in

You're absolutely right, dear anon 👏

Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me ^^

I don't have anything to add here ^^

And I also wonder why people don't want Eclipse to improve..

And I want the same as you, dear anon.. for Eclipse to reflect and realize his mistakes and wrongdoings and apologize and atone for what he's done.. or just apologize.. like if it's really better if Eclipse went separate ways from Sun and Moon (though I personally disagree) then let Eclipse at least apologize to them..

I think that it'd be for the better for all of them..

Also let Moon apologize to Eclipse too..

And Sun can also apologize for saying that he should kill himself..

So all of them would be even but I think that it matters..

Maybe I'm wrong but who knows..

[fordtato]

Hi. I finished your new video essay yesterday, after two sittings. Had to split it, because it came out in the late evening in my timezone, and my roommate was already sleeping - I was super afraid of waking her up with my loud, uncontrollable bursts of laughter (your sense of humor never fails me). I was so, so excited about this video for many months (I almost dropped my phone when I saw your runtime post), and, as always, you managed to completely amaze me in every possible way. 

As always, of course, the backgrounds and decorations, the whole setup - were stunning. I LOVED the stained glass - is this a pattern now? I want this to be a pattern, you have a gift - and the wax wings, and the nonchalant way you glued them together throughout the video. Your shirt-vest combo was also what made it so good as a whole and also made me want to rob your wardrobe. Beware. 

Ford's faults (and "faults") you mentioned and your arguments against them were something I've been deeply convinced of myself for years now and expected to hear them from you as well. It was deeply, deeply satisfying to hear them ALL, even the smallest, most ridiculous ones, out loud, for the first time ever. It was truly a freeing experience, and I can't thank you enough. You took all of those allegations - from the lack of a better word - that people have been coming up with since 2015 and pointed their lack of logic, thought, and attention to detail, or sometimes just plain stupidity and ignorance, out. And did so with style. 

I could ramble here for a really long time about my thoughts on the character of Stanford Pines and how, for years, I observed people interpreting him in a way that's been completely different from mine. About how it baffled me, angered me, made me sad. But it's no use for me to do so because you've said everything I've ever wanted to. You saw all the same things and pointed them out in a way no one else in this fandom could. And it healed something in me. It made something click back in place. Thank you for that, from the bottom of my heart.

The thing that I DO need to point out specifically is the ending. Something that I think always angered me the most in Ford's canon story. How after everything that happened, after everything he's bern through, he doesn't see himself as a victim of Bill, a victim of abuse and manipulation that ruined his life. He sees an Icarus metaphor. And it is the way the narrative wants us to see him - it wants us to see Ford as a man that fell because of his "pure ego", overachieving behaviour, because of his refusal to listen to the voices of reason, because of him isolating himself. His happy ending in the series is bound to being remorseful, apologising to everyone he's ever hurt and changing, and then getting the forgiveness and happiness coming from it. He's made a lot of mistakes, of course. Some of them he made completely on his own, because of his flaws, personality, and ways of perceiving the world. But others (and I would say the biggest ones, the ones getting pointed out the most) are a mix of both his personality, and, majorly, abuse and trust being broken over and over again. And in the end, it doesn't get acknowledged, not really. He doesn't say, "I am a victim of abuse." He says,"I was wrong. I was cruel. Please, forgive me." And shows ends it on that note, making it the final conclusion. And it's a thing that always has been the root to Ford's tragedy in the series to me. And I've never seen anyone mention it, talk about it, even amongst Ford's defenders. And you pointed it out perfectly with the Icarus metaphor in the end.

I don't know how many too-long-for-my-own-good-and-probably-yours-too asks I will have to write again, but I know that as long as you continue to make your "little" masterpieces, I'm going to watch them on the same day, and then think about them for weeks after. And in many of those cases I feel the need to inform you of my constantly growing amazement. I hope you don't mind. I hope you know your work is admired by many, many people, and I just happen to be one of them. I hope you get some well-deserved rest. And for the last time here - thank you so, so much.

I've had this sitting in my inbox for a while and I've struggled to find the words to respond, but I'm very glad the video resonated with you so much. And I'm honored that you enjoyed it like this.

[justauthoring]

his light.

because a light always fades eventually.

a/n -> i love angstttttttt

pairing -> choso x f!reader

tw.-> implied sex, implied death

it was a love that didn't come easy.

a love that burned and ached and left you trembling and scared and thinking of a life where it was all just a little bit easier. but you refused to give up.

the idea of giving up was more painful than anything else.

he didn't understand love. not completely and not always. he knew how he felt for you, came to understand the feeling of his welling at the sight of you. he knew of the reason why you never left his thoughts or when he'd close his eyes, you were always the first thing that he'd see.

smiling, eyes twinkling, shining and as beautiful as the first time he saw you.

and he remembers the moment his eyes landed on you for the first time perfectly.

you'd come barelling towards yuji, worried and scared as you checked over him, asking him if he was okay. you'd begged him to explain everything, eyes glancing around for gojo and nanami, along with your other students and your eyes filling with tears when yuji shakingly told you that they didn't make it.

you hadn't even noticed him yet. your eyes had welled at the news that gojo was trapped and apparently it had been a man named geto who had done it. choso hadn't known then why that had torn you up so deeply inside.

and you'd apologized when you heard about nobara and nanami.

apparently, you'd been sent on another mission instead of to shibuya; somewhere overseas and had returned at the tail end of everything.

choso had watched you, watched as you cried and fussed over your student. watched as you were told about the friends you'd lost and the students you'd failed to protect. his heart had ached in a way he'd never experienced before, unsure of the emotions coarsing through him.

yuji had shakily introduced him after you'd calmed and that was a mess of things in of itself, but what surprised and confused choso the most was the way you'd smiled at him (albeit shakily and not completely meeting your eyes) and had thanked him for protecting yuji.

you hadn't doubted him once, trusting yuji's words with ease and had accepted him without hesitation.

choso hadn't understood then, but the emotions burning through him had been of love.

and that was just the beginning.

tentative looks, hesitant touches, words spoken in secret. there had been shared moments any second either of you could have them, hidden away from eyes and from the danger of what you were both stuck in. choso relished in the moments, greatly enjoying your company and being given the privilege and chance to learn what it was like to be human.

and you? you'd basked in the warmth he flooded you with, after all of it had been ripped from you cruelly. he was safe and kind and sure, you knew he was a curse, but that hadn't mattered to you the moment yuji told him that, somehow, someway, choso had decided to help him.

that he was good.

and he was a good that you'd never experienced before. he lit your whole world up in a way that the past seemed so dull in comparison. filled your darkness with rays of light and the emptiness in your heart; he patched the broken pieces of you up piece by piece in a way you're sure he wasn't even capable of understanding.

yet, all of it hurt.

ached.

burned.

because you knew it wouldn't last. it... couldn't last.

the two of you were doomed from the beginning.

you just hadn't known it'd be so quick.

-

"you're doing it wrong."

stilling his movements, choso chances a glance behind him, meeting your eyes and the soft smile on your lips.

"oh?" he asks, confused and curious as his eyes flicker back to the bowl in his hands. he thought he'd been doing it right... but if you said he wasn't, then...

"here," you call, stepping forward from the door and over to choso. you send him a soft smile when you reach him, his eyes trained on yours, captivated by you as you gently take the whisk from his hands. "i'll mix, you hold the boy, okay?"

nodding, choso tightens his grip on the bowl just as your hand starts to move. you start small, testing his hold before your movements become strong, swiping your hand around in circles. choso watches as the batter is mixed together with ease.

"this way it cooks properly," you explain, head tilting back to send him a soft smile. "it'll taste better."

lips forming a 'o', choso nods. "i've never made a cake before," he says after a moment, voice faint. "i don't think i've ever had cake before."

"can curses enjoy sweets?" you ask, and choso feels no insult by it given that he can tell you're genuinely curious. you were always asking him questions about how it worked to be a curse, trying to understand him better since, before him, you'd never tried to get along with a curse.

you'd just kill them. or trap them if you couldn't.

"i'm sure it's not the same as it is for you," he admits with a solemn expression. "but i can taste how sweet it is."

you beam at that, eyes sparkling in delight. "oh perfect," you gush, clapping your hands together in excitement. "i would've felt bad if you wouldn't be able to enjoy it properly."

choso pauses; "why?"

having turned your focus back to the batter, you pause; "hmm?"

"why would that bother you?"

you seem confused at his question at first, before your face seems to ease and relax with a knowing expression. letting the whisk balance at the edge of the bowl, you turn to face choso completely, taking his hands in your own and squeezing. "because i care about you. and cakes are delicious."

"oh," choso mumbles.

he's not sure if he completely understands your meaning but he knows it's heartfelt and sincere and that's enough for him. he may not understand everything or function the way a human would with you, but it doesn't seem to bother you and choso relishes in that fact.

"then i thank you," he finishes.

you just laugh, bumping your hip with his. "no need."

-

he's aware he's staring. and that he has been for five minutes.

and he's aware it's starting to freak you out a little.

but... there's something he wants, he just doesn't know how to express that want.

"choso?" you call, face filled with concern as you turn to face him fully. you'd been debriefing the plan for tomorrow regarding the culling game when choso had suddenly zoned out, a distant look in his eyes and you'd known he'd stopped listening then. "is everything okay?"

"i..." but he hesitates. he doesn't even know the words he's looking for.

"yes?" you prompt, making sure to keep your voice light; you don't want to pressure him. "you can tell me, choso. anything."

his eyes blink at your own, before you notice the subtle shift down, right at your lips. and by the longing in his gaze, it isn't hard to figure out what he wants then.

"do you want to kiss me?"

choso blinks out of his stupor, flinching back. "what?"

"kiss," you emphasize, leaning towards him until your inches apart. "press your lips," and you tap them for explanation, "against mine?"

yes, choso realizes. that is what he wants.

lips parting, choso swallows thickly. "is that what someone does to someone they care about?"

"depends," you shrug. "you wouldn't do it to a friend or a sibling... but a boyfriend would."

"boyfriend?"

"means to be together intimately with someone," you clasp your hands together, demonstrating your meaning. "to date someone... you'd kiss and... other things."

"i want to kiss you."

a smile graces your features at that, soft and demure as your shoulders easy and a pretty pink dusts across your smooth cheeks. choso is entranced by the sight, unable to pull away; at least, he is, until he feels your warm, soft lips against his.

he stiffens at first, unuse to the touch. but then he finds he rather enjoys the sensation and even more, he enjoys having you so close. his body relaxes on it's own and his hands twitch, hesitating for a moment, before reaching for your hips to pull you closer.

you end up in his lap, pulling away with a laugh as choso chases your lips.

you laugh louder at the pout on his lips.

"we should really focus on what's going on," you mumble, blinking lazily, intoxicated by the way he's staring at you. "yuji-kun and megumi-kun are relying on us..."

"i wanna kiss more," choso whispers, trying to pull you close again.

you try to push away, giggling, but then your eyes meet his and he sends you this look that has you reeling and all your determination fades.

"okay," you concede, just as love drunk as he is. "one more."

it's not just one more.

-

"don't stare."

your face is red, cheeks burning as your hands hold yourself, trying to cover yourself from choso's unwavering stare. he liked to stare a lot, and usually you didn't mind, but it felt entirely different when you were so... exposed.

nothing but your arms to cover your breasts, with choso hovering over you, his hair hanging loose like a halo around you. all you could focus on was him, shrouded from anything else because of his figure, and he seemed just, if not more, solely focused on you.

"i've never..." but his words fade and he swallows thickly, and this lidded, lust-filled expression floods his eyes that has you squirming. "you're beautiful."

the warmth intensifies and you turn your head, desperate to get away from his heated stare.

choso is quick to rectify it, his hand reaching out to clasp your jaw and pull your attention back on him. your jaw slacks as he does, not used to choso to... hands on and demanding. it was usually you instigating things, with his permission and at his pace of course—but nonetheless, you.

this... was different.

not bad, just... overwhelming.

"don't hide," he whispers, voice husky. "i want to see you," he confesses, "all of you."

"it's embarrassing," you mumble, biting your lip. "no one... no one's ever seen me like this."

that gives choso pause. stilling over you, his eyes widen as he pulls back slightly. "no one?" he asks, clarifying. "not even someone like gojo?"

you recoil at that. "gods no," you rush to deny. "gojo is... is a dear friend, of course. but—but not like that. never like that."

oddly, choso seems eased at that and it catches your attention because you never thought... never thought choso was capable of feeling such an emotion like jealousy.

"good."

he leans forward a second later, face close and imposing and it fills your stomach with butterflies.

"i'm going to make you feel good," he promises and you feel yourself grow wet at his husked whispers, legs brushing against each other. "so you'll never forget me."

-

your body is dead, heavy weight in his arms.

there's a mix of emotions that flood him and none of them make complete sense; but the worst part is he doesn't have you to explain them to him. you were his guide, his light and you'd taught him what it was like to feel human.

not because you didn't love him for who he was, but because he wanted to know. you taught him love and happiness and compassion and passion and...

and now, all he feels is this indescribable and unavoidable deep burn of pain deep in his heart that aches and pulls and twists.

bloodied, bruised, your chest remained still, no heart beat and no breath.

you were just... gone.

he'd known he was a curse and you were a human; the both of you had known that he would outlive you... that was just a matter of fact and no matter how much he'd wished it so, it would never change.

but this? this was too early.

this was too painful.

and there wasn't anything he could do about it.

he cries for the first time then; something he hadn't even known possible for him. that burn in his chest alights a fire in him and his eyes are welling out of his control, blurring his vision of your limp body pressed against him and streaming down his cheeks in a feeling he's never felt before.

but it's the only thing he knows to do then.

so it's the only thing he does

[paperstarwriters]

Billowing Fabrics

ouagh. I wouldn't typically post a fic like this lmao I feel like it's kinda underbaked so to say? but deadline is coming in and I don't have the leisure to leave the fic to just bake in my WIP file like I do with other fics 🥲 Not a bad thing neccicarily but if the fic isn't as perfectly polished that's why lol.

anyways,

Pairing: Muriel x reader (romantic)

Warnings: N/a

Summary: You've accidentally made one of your sweaters a little too big when you were trying to make it bigger and slouchier for yourself. Muriel finds your work and takes it upon himself to fix the worn down sweater. Not for any particular reason no, no... he just found a sweater that seemed to fit him....

Vesuvia Weekly Prompt | Masterlists | The Arcana Masterlist

Word count: 1,426

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The objective is a complicated one, but it was supposed to be simple with the aid of magic.

The spell is a simple one, but the objective you want to achieve has made it overly complicated.

You wanted a longer sweater for the upcoming months something long on the lower end with equally long sleeves to tuck your hands and legs into when it got particularly cold, turning yourself into a ball of soft fabrics—a sponge of soft fabrics when you inevitably leaned against Muriel.

There were a handful of well failed attempts that you've since set aside to mess around with later with the help of some borrowed yarn from Portia , or attempts that near destroyed the sweater you were working on. Thankfully the bunch you've targeted using, were either sweaters that have already been worn to bits and a handful of cheaply bought sweaters for more experimentation.  

From the various failed attempts you have one sweater that ended up with sleeves so long you could use it for a scarf. Another attempt stole fabric from the sleeves to lengthen the torso portion, and one of the attempts had simply made the woolen material far, far, far too thick to work with. Each were an interesting discovery in their own right of course, with the latter one in particular being added as a possible adjustment you would like to make to your end result. Not as thick as the material at hand of course, but something akin to that amount.

Beneath your fingers the well worn fabric of one of your more damaged sweaters stretches and expands. Fabric spills over your lap, as threads twist and turn growing thicker or longer depending on your desires, and as the light finally dims from it's passage through your fingertips and into the very fibers of the sweater you find yourself with a substantially larger and thicker sweater, fluffy and soft, though a little too big around the collar, and the sleeves seemed a pinch too loose. Practically perfect though! You promptly turn your attention to the target sweater you're intent on changing setting aside the successful practice to join the other attempts and work at slowly expanding the sweater. It doesn't take long before your sweater is now larger and comfier and fluffier around you, and very eagerly, you dash out of the hut intent on showing off your new creation.

——————————

Muriel returns, to the pleasantly warm confines of the hut. You're still outside, having gone on a quick trip to the marketplace, to go grab some groceries intent on getting the most important goods before the worst of an upcoming snowstorm hit. Snow wasn't exactly common in Vesuvia but on the odd occasion a wash of cold weather sweeps through, sometimes bringing snow, sometimes only bringing ice. While Muriel felt far more comfortable than most in the cold chilly temperatures, he knew full well he wasn't exactly a good example of an average citizen and though he knew how to manage his way through frost and snow, getting extra groceries was always a good help.

Extra cuddly items like sweaters and blankets couldn't hurt either.

Noticing the pile of thick fabric materials Muriel pokes his way through your failed attempts. You very eagerly showed off your brand new sweater, or well, old-ish sweater with brand new measurements. Made to protect even better against the cold beneath a water and wind proof cape. While you had tried to explain your process to him, bouncing around with glee at your success, Muriel found it difficult to imagine how you had been able to change the fabric to somehow create more of itself.

His hands stop at the sight of one sweater, well worn, and almost tearing at the seams. There's a little hole around the chest, and the sleeves seem to be moth-bitten, and he wonders how long you've had this. It's a much bigger size, clearly a victim of your testing for your sweater, and as he holds it up into the air to inspect it more, he finds it to almost fit his own size.

Tugging the fabric over his head, Muriel is greeted by a wash of scent. You've worn this sweater a lot surely. Perhaps as casual wear at some point of time. He recalls dimly seeing you wear it around the hut on the odd occasion, and though he feels slightly bad, he takes a moment to appreciate the feeling of being wrapped in something that smells so strongly of you.

When he finally pulls the sweater down, he finds the fabric fits him like a glove. No slouchiness or poofiness that you seemed so fond of in your own sweater, but it fits him, and it fits him well, even if there are a few odd holes amidst the seams.

Muriel takes off the sweater, setting it aside atop of your shared bed before he goes digging in the shelves of your stuff. Portia had lent the both of you some yarn at some point, if he recalled, perhaps he could patch a hole in this.

————————

Muriel returns home a little later than you, and though you're curious to see what he's done while you were out helping Asra and hauling groceries, the question escapes you when you actually see him. Patched with little hearts Muriel wears your old and tattered sweater, the one you made a little too large for you, but perfectly fits him.

And when he walks in the door, he stops, stares, and drops the knitting tools he's likely borrowed from Portia.

And in typical fashion, his face grows pink

"Is that my...?" you barely finish your question before Muriel sputters his reply.

"Oh, I'm sorry I didn't.... There were a bunch of holes in it and...." Though you try to hide it, try to bite your lips and cover your mouth to hide your grin, there's no mistaking the delight and glee that fills your cheeks, as you grin. Just seeing it Muriel seems to grow worse, face growing redder and redder. "I... Uh.... I didn't ........... It was just there.........and I just thought..........."

You don't say anything, no longer finding any need to hide and instead unabashedly grinning from ear to ear, pleased as punch at the sight of Muriel wearing your clothes. It fits him so nicely, you're almost upset you hadn't thought of doing so yourself.

He goes quiet in reply, staring down at the floor as smoke seems to puff from his ears, while Inanna rolls her eyes behind him and starts headbutting him in through the door. He scrambles to pick up his things at the gesture closing the door and keeping the chill from filling your little home.

Still he tries not to look at you. And yet you can't help but poke and prod.

"Is it comfy?"

He almost jumps at the question. "I.... Yeah. It's really soft and....." His mouth snaps shut with a faint click of his teeth, as he returns to busying himself with putting away the tools Portia let him borrow.

It's just a few tools, in any other scenario, he'd just set them on the shelf and sort it out later, there was no need for him to hem or haw over any container to put them into.

He just doesn't want to look at you right now, doesn't want to see the grin you have at seeing him in your clothes or at what he almost—

"and what?"

He doesn't have to reply, but you both know he will anyways.

With a soft and tepid voice, Muriel turns to just glance at you from the corner of his eye. "It..... It smells nice."

He doesn't say "it smells like you," but you both know that's what he means, and though you can't quite manage a pout around your grin you still lift up the sleeves of your sweater, and open your arms up to him.

"Aww, could you help me make mine smell nice as well?"

And though red faced, and still blushing, Muriel finally turns to you with a smile. How could he not? The prospect of a hug far too enticing, though he still tries to look away to hide it.

Curling up into your arms as his own come up to wrap around you, the both of you find the overwhelming warmth... Pleasant.

Outside it's frigid, icy and cold.

Inside, it's toasty and warm beneath your blanket like sweaters, and the feeling of being totally engulfed the presence of each other.

[bruhaalla]

Y/n was everything Matt wasn’t she had this sweet bubbly personality she always had a smile on her face he skin was always so soft her lips looked like she had just ate a cherry and her cheeks were alway rosey she was nice to everyone even people she didn’t know that why her and max clicked so fast max introduced. y/n to all of her friends she clicked with them all but one Matt press something about him just read bad boy and everyone girl liked it but her who wants to date a dick head right. Matt wasn’t use to not being wanted so he made her his mission but he failed over again he would try to make her jealous like that night at brodies party when he had Abby and Samantha rubbing on her but it only disgusted her

Y/N POV

y/n Matt called I rolled my eyes Hi! Matt I said sweet just because he was dick didn’t mean I had to be one “what are you doing tonight he asked”nothing I replied why what’s up I asked curious why he was so interested and what I was doing “ want to catch a movie “ I laughed so hard I snorted A MOVIE WITH YOU HA GOOD ONE MATT I walked laughing thinking he was joking but what i didn’t notice was the hurt in his eyes

Later that evening at lunch

Matt’s POV

Max can I talk to you I stated “sure she asked a little confused” me and max weren’t the closest in the group “ I don’t have any weed if that’s what you’re asking about” no I chuckle it’s about um

Y/N “ really I’m a little surprised never would have figured you interested” well things change I say rolling my eyes “Matt no offence your a umm jackass” thanks so much for the wonderful words of encouragement max I roll my eyes “of course your so welcome but seriously she thinks your a jackass” seriously something in heart twings I wouldn’t care if it was someone else but knowing she thinks that hurts for some reason. “ you okay Matt” yeah yeah I chuckle I start walking away thinking about my choices “ I CAN HELP CHANGE THAT” seriously I say walking back “ yeah a new look and some manners should fix that” she rolls her eyes after spending a hour after hanging after school with max im now dressed like fucking hunter and smiling not a real one but the look on Y/N face when she sees me hopefully will put a new one

Y/N POV

I stand in brodies basement waiting for max everyone’s her but her and Matt I talk it up with Abby about tv girl a common interest between us as we’re talking I hear a gasp I turn my head to the direction of whatever there looking at it’s Matt he looks off odd maybe he calls my name

“Y/N can we talk” I nodded my head I see max shoot him a thumps up as we walk up stairs we find a bedroom to talk in Matt are you okay I ask genuinely concerned “ yeah why wouldn’t I be he chuckles deeply” shooting a feeling straight to my core you look wow “ good wow or bad”he scratch the back of his head the tight clothes that are hunters clinching around his muscled body I look into Eyes there a sparkle in them “y/N are you okay” YEAH OFC I shout clenching my Legs from the sudden hotness from the room “there something I been meaning to say” shoot I say “ I like you a lot like it’s ridiculous I like how cherry you are how you always find the best in people I like you coordinate all your outfits by Color I like the way you chuckle when I say something funny then try to hide it I like the way you talk about bands I like you for you and I wanna change to be better for you I know you think I’m a jackass so I’m gonna be the most kiss ass person I know hunter that’s why I’m dressed like him” a deep growl like chuckle come from his throat I grab him by the shirt I look deep in his eyes there gorgeous filled with lust and sorrow kiss me jackass I giggle what seems like minutes his lips plant on to mine they fit perfectly together I melt into the kiss I pull us apart for air and to say something Matt of course I think your a jackass you try to make me jealous with other women but I always know your a sweet guy I notice now you get soft when I’m around and how you smile more I like When you offer to Carry my stuff to and from class or offer me a ride home I like when you look at me when everyone is talking I bring my hands up to his face I like that Matt not the jackass Matt he places his lips on mine

He pushes me back on to the bed his fingers brushing against the inside of my things my back arches he smiles

Into the kiss he pulls his lips from mine kissing down my collar bone

"Do you want me to fuck you,love ?" He wants to hear me say it, but he also wants my consent. It's such a sweet gesture, it almost makes me laugh."Fuck me,Matt. Please."I look at him shyly, playing it up.I can tell he likes it because he slowly presses inside, and i give a slight moan at the stretch. The roll of I hips is calculatedly unsure. He doesn't move, looking at me with a tiny smirk. "Matt, please. Ah.... I... mattt." I beg, and this time it's not for show. Matt doesn't pull out, choosing instead to grind his hips against mine, until I give a punched out moan and my body tenses at one particular roll. He has been cataloging my reactions, I realize. Matt pulls out, just to thrust back in and hit that same spot time and time again, with scary accuracy.He enjoys the way i gasp and arch under him, pressing deeper, harder. WhenI start to grab desperately at his shoulders, clawing at them, legs tensing around his waist, he brings down his hand on my throat, once again. He squeezes, hard enough to startle you and bring tears to your eyes. "Come on,love ." He encourages me ."Make a mess." And so, I do. The face i make when i come has to be one of his favorite sights in the whole world. It's enough to make him come too, thrusting into Me and making me sob harder from over stimulation. I push at him weakly, and he takes another look at my face. Mascara is running down my cheeks, lip gloss messy around your mouth. I don't look innocent anymore, I look debauched. He grumbles happily, and Matt knows. He is never, ever letting me go.

[fuck-you-upmusicbracket]

Love Like Ghosts (Lord Huron)

I don't feel it till it hurts sometimes/Oh, go on baby, hurt me tonight/I want ours to be an endless song/Baby, in my eyes, you do no wrong/I don't feel it till it hurts sometimes/So go on, baby, hurt me tonight/All the spirits that I know I saw/Do you see no ghost in me at all?

"The use of ghosts as a metaphor for ghosts is just. so good. The idea of being haunted by your pasts love/seeing yourself as a ghost because of love is such a fascinating idea like?? Referring to the concept of love with "what ain't living can never really die" is really interesting because the love was "never living" meaning....that the love wasn't real? that the love was one sided? that they were never in love at all? it could mean a thousand different things and the entire song is skewed from the perspective of the narrator. The character narrator's of LH songs are....notoriously unreliable to put it lightly, and this one could be viewed in the same way. The narrator is adamant that the person they're singing to doesn't truly love them, but doesn't want them to leave her, but we have no way to know that for certain. She implies that the person is lying to her and doesn't truly want her with the line "You don't want me baby, please don't lie" but again, we don't know if thats true. It leaves this song is such a weird state of leaving the listener guessing and walking away with their own meaning of the song."

Against The Kitchen Floor (Will Wood)

And I swear! I will die trying!/I'm still in the process, but I'm making progress; I promise I honestly wanna prove improvement's possible, I swear!/I'm so fucking sorry! I'm not a good person, I'm barely a person at all, But someday I'll be perfect, and I'll make up for it all!

Less rare than scarce, less diamond then rough/Unlikely to be more than just the coal you failed to crush

I'm catatonic in your arms, crying, "How did I cause so much harm?"/I'm down pounding my head against the kitchen floor/Apologizing for my life and ever entering yours

The vertex of my redemption arc/I’m searching on that virgin heart

"The raw emotion! And I strongly relate to desperately wanting to improve for someone you love. I belt out this song when I feel really hopeless"

"my one OC. also me. also it's just a really good song. one of will's best imo. screaminbg"

"Literally hits almost all of my self-esteem issues. Feeling like people only care about you for your body? Check. Not understanding why anyone would want you? Check. Thinking that all you do is hurt people? Check. I don't cry very often but this song DEFINITELY made me teary"

"one of those if u aren’t paying attention to the lyrics ur like this is nice but once u hear them its an OW holy OW and guilt and I’m sorry feelings"

"Just. Loving someone but not feeling like you’re good enough and trying to improve."

"Not only does this song have lyrics that are deeply relatable to me, but this song also feels very deeply personal to the artist and I feel that anyone who listens to it for the first time has that same feeling of getting punched in the gut. Just the lyrics and the melody and Will Wood’s incredible vocals make this song an absolute masterpiece and I cry every time I hear it."

"One reason I'm attached to this song is because my friend sent it to me and said "I'm kin assigning you this song" and ruined my life (/j) It messed me up because I've always had a hard time in my life figuring myself out and dealing with my emotions, and for what feels like the first time, this song has been able to near perfectly describe how I feel about myself and my impact on other people, and it always just meant so much to me that my friend who sent it to me knows me better than I know myself and shared the song with me and I love them dearly."

Love Like Ghosts submitted by @danidoesathing

Against the Kitchen Floor submitted by @pixopolis + others

[crystal-crax]

A RANT

THE NEON LEON

(II) Why he needs to fail at being a leader

Inspired by Skulltrot's Leo analysis on Youtube (WATCH IT, IT'S SO GOOD, I LOVE IT)

What? Crystal! You're contradicting yourself-

Shhhh! This is poetry, listen to me

One of the reasons i've seen people complain about rise leo, is his overall "confidence".

They find him annoying or reduce him to "the funny guy", the one that messes everything up in the movie and deus ex machina's his way to the power of friendship.

But honestly, i think this is so far from the truth; Leo is integral to the concept and culmination of the rise turtles, he cements the message this version of the turtles has been trying to explain from the beginning.

You can't do everything alone; trust those who love you, and love those who you trust.

But honestly, i think a lot of people forget that we've all probably felt like him before.

Leo is quite a complicated character to understand easily (mostly bc the rise series got horribly cut down and omg i'm still hurting), because an important part of his character is he will literally never be honest about what he's feeling. The only thing he talks about? How he knows (bc he doesn't just think it, he's so sure about it) nobody trusts him or thinks he's capable of holding his own weight.

He comes off as uninterested and goofy because he so desesperately clings to that portrayal of himself because he needs to trick both others and his own mind that he's fine.

He doesn't think he's enough, he believes the team would be perfectly fine without him. He thinks he needs to prove he can do something so he can be valuable to the team.

And i think it's amazing

"Rise of the TMNT", the title already gives away the purpose of their different personalities and coping mechanisms on this version of the story. We're not meant to see an structured team of properly trained ninjas, we're here for the ride, we are walking alongside them as the team gets in line and learn how to be heroes.

Sure the other versions of the turtles had their own character arcs, you don't need to see something from the instant beginning to know the characters are growing, but rise has always felt more of a love letter to the turtle family itself. A complete exploration of an alternate universe where the mad dogz got to somewhat live as teenagers before earning the mantle as protectors of the world (and new york lol).

We're familiar with Leonardo's story in evey tmnt version, he's the leader. He's in charge of protecting the city and his family.

But the problem is always there, he fears he won't be enough, that he will fail to be the leader the world asks him to be. This is also something we see in rise leo but it's more...fresh? It feels naturally younger.

Were you never nagged about not taking things seriously when you were younger? Were you never yelled at for messing things up? Didn't you ever feel as if you had to prove to others that you were more they perceived you to be?

As someone that battles their own inferiority complex, leo feels...so easy to relate to.

He didn't ask for the responsability, and he kind of doesn't want it, but he learns to bear it properly.

He fails to be the good leader they expect him to be (i also have the theory he self-sabotages himself a lot?) but he learns to be more than what they expect.

To quote myself from my last post (yes i loved typing that) "a leader is not the one that orders, but the one that motivates and supports you". He learns how being a leader is not imposing or bearing every problem and responsability alone, but to motivate your team and guide them to never loose hope.

He uses everything he already knows about himself and his team to be better and guide them to a new version of the ninja turtle gang, one where family and trust is far more important than anything else (and it feels good to know we won't have the typical raph vs leo fight for leadership in the future- i mean there was a fight BUT IT WASN'T ABOUT THAT)

Someone stop me i might just start a tmnt rant loop of my own making and i'm enjoying it😭

[artemistorm]

Wild, as they'd dubbed him, had been traveling with the group of eight traveling warriors for a few weeks now.

It was strange, the group came out of nowhere and then sought him out to help them search for a band of black blooded monsters they were pursuing, supposedly through time. Something about destiny, reincarnation, divine charge, yadda yadda yadda, but Wild wasn't convinced that their quest was real and that they even needed him.

"You're a hero, just like us, you belong with us," they said. But did he really?

As they'd traveled from central Hyrule, up into Akkala, then working their way back across toward Tabantha, the others had shared their stories and it was clear that their experiences were different from his. For one, none of them failed their quests.

Wild didn't tell them the full story of his Hyrule--there was no reason to--only the basics. Kept his failure, the long slumber, and his amnesia a secret.

It happened constantly that the others would say something innocent--a remark on how populated their hometown was, or how pretty their Castletown was, or how they'd reclaimed the coastline from monsters--little things they meant nothing by, but it caused Wild a sharp sting of guilt.

Wild kept his face calm and his polite laughter lighthearted. Keep them from suspecting anything was wrong. It happened over and over though, and it was starting to wear him down.

It got to the point where all Wild could think about was how they would disapprove and dislike him if they knew the truth. His heart hurt all the time and he felt guilt weighing on his shoulders, making him sick to his stomach.

One day, he stopped faking being fine, he remained withdrawn, staying at the back of the line, watching the rest of the heroes handle themselves in battle and over the challenges of the terraine. He didn't offer advice and they didn't ask for it. It was clear the Chain didn't need Wild and he certainly didn't need them.

Wild always knew he could just leave. He didn't have to stand for this discomfort any longer. Just like any other undesirable situation--unexpected lynel, blood moon while in talus territory, thunderstorm in the middle of the night--he could just teleport away.

It was tempting--it would be so easy to teleport right then to a random Shrine faraway--but no, he'd offer them the courtesy of at least announcing his departure. Sure, he was Wild, but he was also a knight and he still had his honor.

That night he cooked for them some hearty meat curry with plenty extra for the next day. The Chain chatted and ate and thanked him for cooking. Wild meant to leave as soon as he'd eaten his fill, but he lingered, allowing himself a moment to enjoy having company for a little longer.

But then conversation turned to childhoods. Some had a happy one, some didn't, having started their journeys early or with trouble and trauma.

"What was yours like?" Wind asked him. "How was growing up here in this huge wild Hyrule?"

Wild sighed. He was quiet for a brief moment, then stood up.

"I'm done," he said.

"I'll take your dishes then," Warriors said, who'd been assigned dish duty.

"No, not like that," Wild shook his head. "I'm done with all of you. Done with whatever mission you're on."

There was a quiet moment as the heroes processed what he said.

"What? Why?" Wind asked.

"Listen, I'm not who you think I am," Wild said. "And you don't need me around. You all are perfectly capable on your own."

"We do need you," Wind objected. "You're a hero. You belong with us." Wild shook his head.

"We need all hands for this mission," Warriors, the Captain said. "It's been a challenge even for the eight of us. We really could use your help." Somehow Wild doubted that.

"What went wrong?" Sky asked. "Can we talk through whatever is bothering you? Give us a second chance?"

"No. I am done with all of you." Wild said with finality. He shouldered his shield and sword, everyone watching him awkwardly, but nobody stopped him. "I wish you all good luck on your adventure." He bowed to them slightly, force of habit from a time long forgotten.

"Wait what?! Are you serious?" Legend exclaimed, jumping to his feet.

"W--what about the pot?" Hyrule asked.

"Keep it, it wasn't mine to start with," Wild said. He opened the map on his slate and selected the tower for the Gerudo region, somewhere faraway and secluded from people.

"Goodbye," he said, turning to blue ribbons of light and was gone.

[fluffypotatey]

Don't think I ever explained it, but the reason I like SWK accidentally killing Mac so much isn't actually for the whumpy apologies, tho the confrontation of it in fics is always so delicious, but what has me going insane is actually the layers of their relationship breakdown. Like, you have these two immortal monkeys, they are perfectly designed by fate for each other's companionship. There is genuine care there, and it never dies. Never. They were just torn apart so tragically. Nobody fell to the dark side, there was no jealousy, no hatred. There was just every manifestation of grief and miscommunication. You could never get the right words out. You couldn't help what came out of your mouth in that moment, the bitterness you would have swallowed back in for just one more morning of peeling tangerines in the summer breeze, all the quiet ways to say 'I love you.' Their break-up was like shredding bamboo, the faults and woes, the insecurities and failings, and the hurtful words and the entrapment and all the ways you can't reach, and the loss of everything and the denial and oh, the time just wasn't right, it all boiled over, and speaking a language that can no longer be heard, and the shattering of unconditionality. They had their own flaws, that you never could have thought would tear them apart, but it did. And they had to go on their own journeys of self-growth, had their own people and places they were devoted to, they were the only ones for each other, but they were not only meant for that. And goodness, was it the wrong time. Wukong, trapped, the loss of freedom he fought for, to be the strongest so he could be free and happy, and everyone else too. Macky, constantly grappling with having to follow the sun-streaked trail Wukong blazes, even the moon unable to pause the day unless the sun chooses to set in its ambition to climb higher into the sky, never coming down. The accident of it all? Even if Swk never did, the "did you think all this time, that I could kill you just like that? like you meant nothing to me?" is going to be SUCH a good broken, grief-stricken line delivery from Wukong. But if not, then ooh, the exploration for those who have a similar anger they try to control, when they release emotions externally, and might accidentally break something, those moments don't define you, but how could you undo the damage, how do you make it normal when its not an object you broke, you hurt a friend, it was you, but it also wasn't you had it only been, what if what if what if- if only, and that's a very basic explanation, and even I can't get all the words down right, but its just a realistic thing, how it all fell apart, I think. that conversation has layers, even if I explain it poorly XD you could grab every tragic tumblr post about fading friendships, and love metaphors with sharing quiet spaces and fruit together, and it could be them. also the "came back wrong" trope potential with Macky, ooh. is it him. despite everything, are you still you, could you ever be. are you the same person killed long ago, is this for the best, or shall we both start over again? can you be recognized underneath it all, and is that tragic or a second chance.

god they have so many layers and one of the cool things about lmk keeping Macky’s death and the specifics of shadowpeach’s relationship vague is how much nuance and subtext is left in there. you can peel back layers upon layers and pain upon pain and bond upon bond and still find new info and interpretations and nuances and—

I know you’ve seen me gripe about not being given enough info, but i do really enjoy it when the story allows us to infer and think deeply about certain aspects of the story. I like it when a story isn’t 100% clear or honest to the audience because that leads you to look deeper. think deeper. and try to fathom all the clues brought to you

(but i gripe about it because i’m inpatient af and like having all the pieces right in front of me. there are so many threads and plot theories i have on my little conspiracy board that i don’t want to touch just yet because i feel like i need more pieces before making a confident analysis)

another thing is that both swk and Macky are unreliable when retelling their past. they have their biases and emotions that are tied to the memories. however, swk omits the truth more than outright lies while Macky cannot keep his emotions away from skewing the past. and then the clear truth comes out when it’s forced out from them (think Samadhi fire and scroll memories)

(then again, swk doesn’t really say much of his past and likes to keep it brief. out of the two he is the most honest in terms of he’s self reflective and understands that his past self has issues. is he completely honest about shit tho? no but we’re talking about shadowpeach)

and the cool thing is that “the love was still there” in the past and even when both were on opposite ends. both monkeys were falling into a darker path and while they had communication issues the love was still there. and even while they fought under the mountain and even when they probably fought during jttw, the love was still there

but neither had the tools to save each other and neither really knew how to stop each other from their doom and isn’t that such a beautiful thing to analyze and think about on the screen?