#these don’t work as like. direct parallels as in they are happening at the same time on two different worlds but still

[puppyeared]

I just skimmed through the art part of your blog and holy bajeebus your LMK art is so beautiful and the headcanon ideas you come up with are so good I wanna steal em-

Kinda wanna see like a part 2 of the little angst you did between MK and Macaque a while ago. It's so interesting and I wanna see Macaque's reaction in your art style. (You don't have to of course, it's just a suggestion [idk if i spelled that right])

Thanks for reading and hope you have a good day/night!

Hope this is to your liking ^^

Part one here

[hylfystt]

wolbert week 2023 - day 2: two worlds, one heart / parallels

saints and sinners - before the first, before the flood.

[gghostwriter]

You’re the Risk, I’ll Take it

Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader

Summary: The three times Spencer followed advice and the one time he didn't (or as I'd like to better explain it, the three times Spencer fails to flirt and the one time it worked)

Warning: fluff! Just fluff!

A/n: I wanted to write something cute this time with Season 1 Spencer in mind--one of the best eras if you ask me. Hopefully I did him justice in this. The idea of this cute baby boy trying to flirt is too precious honestly. Also, if a guy did the last act for me, I'd fold like a lawn chair, yep. Risk by Gracie Abrams was on repeat while I was writing this and no proof reading was done. Let me know what you think!

Main masterlist

The first move Spencer tried was advised by Derek Morgan, the renowned ladies man

“Kid, admit it. You like her,” Morgan pestered him with a slight smile on his face. 

Spencer scoffed, trying to throw him off from the truth but monumentally failing. “S-she’s my closest friend. We joined the team at the same time, of course I feel most comfortable with her,” he noted his companion’s eyebrows raising higher and higher with each word. “Plus, she likes hearing what I say even if it has no relation to the case. She asks me questions and genuinely remembers.”

Now it was Morgan’s turn to scoff. “You could be talking about Star Trek and it’s physics mistakes and she’ll still hang on to every word you say.” 

“Actually, there aren’t that many scientific errors in Star Trek. Especially considering—”

“Reid.” 

“Right,” he nodded once, trying to push away the urge to continue further. “That still doesn’t mean I like her.” 

Morgan tapped the wheel twice before turning to face his partner. “Then answer me this. How do you feel when she walks through the office doors?” 

“Happy, I get the same feeling when I see you or Elle come in too,” he found his fingers very interesting then. Like they held the key to unlocking the mysteries of Dark Matter and the answer to the controversial scientific theory ‘Do parallel universe exist?’. He wasn’t telling the whole truth—didn’t want to because how could he, a man of science, explain the other bodily reactions he has when you walk in a room. How he hears his heart stutter in his chest with just a glimpse of you—the first time it happened, he thought nothing of it, but by the third, he considered making an appointment with a specialist for possible heart arrhythmia. How he sees the room brighten when you smile in his direction—perhaps light sensitivity, and how he feels his body heat up when you utter the words ‘Good morning, Spence.’—possibly hot flashes. Self diagnosis that he ruled out once he found you to be the common denominator. That left him with a riddle, a personal conundrum he lost countless of sleep over trying to solve.

“That’s a lie, Reid. You can’t be that happy to see me. You never blush like a tomato when I enter the room. For Greenaway, I could see it but for me, nu-uh,” he argued back. “Okay, what about when she’s not there, what do you feel then?” 

“Sad, similar to how I’d react with you and Elle,” he blurted out another half truth. Another surface level answer that doesn’t fully cover how lost he feels without your comforting presence beside him, how gloomy any room he enters in without you in it, and how incomplete his days were without hearing your voice. 

Morgan snickered. “Lies, you have to learn how to lie better to fool an FBI profiler, Reid. You don’t think I—the team, notice that you’re quieter when she isn’t on the case with us?”

“Wait. Wait, the whole team?” His voice goes up an octave. You were part of the team, did that mean you knew of the effect you had on him too? “D-Does everyone have the same idea as you do? Everyone?” 

“Not everyone, kid. Your secret is still safe,” He smiled wide like a cat that caught the canary. “So it’s true then, you like her.” 

Spencer knew there was no escape from trap, he was just glad that his secret still remained classified from the other party involved. His shoulders sagged as he nodded to confirm Morgan’s findings.

“So what’s your play then?”

His head whipped to face his companion so fast he felt his meticulously styled hair escape the confines of his ears. “Play? There’s no play. Nothing. I’m not going to do anything and this conversation stays between us.” 

“Oh c’mon lover boy, you have to do something,” Morgan challenged. “Y’know she likes you back, right?” 

“No she doesn’t! I mean, why would she?” Spencer rambled on, unable to comprehend what Morgan was saying. “She’s her—beautiful, smart, and cool. Every case we get, there’s at least one police officer hitting on her. And I’m me—I talk too much and get awkward in every situation. The exact opposite!”

“Reid, don’t sell yourself short. She likes you, trust me on this.” He paused, listening to the update on the intercom before continuing on. “So here’s what you’re going to do. Compliment her outfit, girls appreciate that. Easy enough, don’t you think?”

Spencer really didn’t think so after all he had the tendency to go off on a tangent whenever he talks to you but he agrees nonetheless. If Morgan believes he could do it then he couldn’t mess it up, right?

———

Wrong. It was wrong to take Morgan’s advice. Never mind he can recall everything he has ever read, never mind he has an IQ of 187. What good were his talents if he, Dr. Spencer Reid, couldn’t string the proper sentences along?

It started when you walked into the office wearing this light yellow blouse that made you more radiant than he thought possible. It was as if the a ray of sun had graced the bullpen and stunned his mind into silence, rendering him tongue-tied. All his monologues and hypothesis bouncing around his overactive brain fell away and the only thing he could think of was how pretty you look.

Morgan cleared his throat, bringing him back to the living. Spencer averted his awestruck gaze and busied himself with an imaginary lint on his red sweater. 

“Hey Y/N, did anything good this weekend?” Morgan asked as you settled into your desk adjacent to his.

You shrugged nonchalantly and teased back. “I bet it wasn’t good as yours, Morgan. Picked anyone up last Friday or are your charms no longer working?”

“Huh, i see where this is going. Somebody woke up on the wrong side of bed today.”

Morgan chanced a peek at Spencer and internally groaned. How you didn’t notice the kid’s crush on you was beyond him—all the staring and blushing he does when you’re near was a dead giveaway.

“Reid. Reid,” Morgan called out.

He closed his mouth and gulped. “Hm, what?” 

Morgan pointedly stared at him and titled his head towards your direction. A movement lost to you as you noted Elle leaving Gideon’s office.

Spencer opened his mouth to catch your attention but before he could even utter your name, Elle intervened. “Question for you, the foot path killer. Why’d he stutter?”

You swiveled to face her, not having caught Spencer’s intent to speak to you. The unit chief then called them in for a case—an arson case in a university campus. His shoulders drooped as they rushed to the jet afterwards with no chance of small talk. 

When there was a lull in the plane—case discussion finished, he steeled his already apprehensive nerves and took the chance, quickly wishing he hadn’t.

“S-so, your shirt’s yellow,” he stated out loud like it was some sort of revelation. 

“Yes,” you drawled out, unsure as to where he was going with this. “That’s right, Spencer.”

He drummed his fingers on the table and continued on. “Did you know that airplanes tend to avoid the color yellow as it causes dizziness and nausea? A number of studies have shown those exact results and that’s why it’s almost never used in interiors of various forms of transportation and rarely use in advertising. It’s like how the red is the most common color used by restaurants as it psychologically makes the viewer hungry.”

You looked down on your top. Yellow was one of your favorites and you specifically chose this as Penelope said and you quote, it looks good on you, brings out your eyes. Boy genius would probably react to it too so naively you splurged on it. But this—this wasn’t the response you were hoping for. “Spence, are you saying my shirt is making you feel nauseous?”

He blushed and stammered out a strong refusal. “What, no! No! I—I meant to say—you, you look nice.”

You giggled under your breath, finding his long-winded route to giving you a compliment cute. “Nice nice or airsickness nice?” 

“Nice! Just nice!” He defended on, his voice cracking at the end. He caught Morgan’s wide eyed gaze then as if he couldn’t believe what train wreck he just witnessed. 

Cheeks heating up further, Spencer slouched in his seat and busied himself with the files wishing that he could build a memory eraser so he could wipe the events from his and the team’s minds or better yet, a time machine to redo the whole thing all over again.

The second move Spencer tried was advised by Elle Greenaway, the new recruit

“Do you think it’s weird that I knew that ballad?” He questioned during one of their cases in San Diego. It bothered him since the start of the case. How Morgan had teased him about his incapability of asking out the opposite sex. Never mind that you defended him right back, that’s a lie, it made him feel special that you did but the joke was still true. A cold stone truth. 

Elle laughed, flipping her phone repeatedly on the table while waiting for the unsub to take the bait. “I don’t know how you know half the stuff you know, but I’m glad you do.”

“Do you think that’s why I can’t get a date?” He asked as he fiddled with the unfinished Rubik’s cube in his hands.

“Have you ever asked her out?”

There was no need to ask who Elle was referring to, everyone knew of his innocent—well maybe not so innocent at times specifically during his state of dreaming—crush for the second youngest member of the team. He shifted his eyes to focus a few tables before his—at you, sitting beside JJ. “No."

“That’s why you can’t get a date.” 

One of the precincts phone then rang, it was the unsub, causing him to table that conversation in his vast memory. 

———

There’s an English saying that states ‘the second time is the charm’ and Spencer was hoping there were some truth to the idiom even with no scientific explanation to back it up. 

A few cases after San Diego, he got an opening that he was unexpectedly looking for. The team was on their way back from a case in Virginia. It was late and the profilers were all tucked in their little corners of the jet decompressing while you and Spencer were huddled on the sofa quietly discussing Doctor Who. 

“How could you say your favorite is the Ninth Doctor when you haven’t even seen the older episodes?” He rambled, clearly he would have to do something about your limited knowledge in the great universe of Doctor Who. He’d like to explain it all, 695 episodes of the classic era to you. He’d take any topic really just to have your interest.

You stared into his hazel speckled eyes and smiled, amused by his reaction. “It’s a bit hard to catch up on a show that’s been around since the 70s. Plus, it’s a challenge to look for copies.” 

“Actually, the show started in the 60s—1963, to be exact,” he clarified. “Garcia has copies we could borrow and watch together. If that’s—” he cleared his throat and clenched his fists closed, feeling his nails dig into his palms. “—that’s alright with you. If—if not, there’s a convention happening this weekend. I have an extra ticket, if you want to come with—only if you’re not busy, I mean.”

“And risk you spoiling every episode to me? I’d rather watch it alone, if you don’t mind.”

That dragged his optimism to a crash as if a twenty ton weight landed on his chest, rendering him immovable. Of course you were going to say no. There was no proof that you’d reciprocate his interests—he inwardly cursed himself for believing otherwise.

“But, I’d like to go with you to the convention,” you said and silently added as your date to yourself, shifting in your seat with a blush blooming on your cheeks at the thought. “Always wanted to go to one. If you’re fine with me not being in a costume. I think it’ll be too late to find one, don’t you think?”

Just like that, the weight on his chest lifted, making him feel weightless with glee. A wide smile grew on his face, threatening to burst his cheeks as he shook his head. “That’s alright! But you—you can always dress up as Rose!”

You titled your head to the side. “Rose?” 

“You know, the Ninth Doctor’s companion?”

“I know who she is, Spence. I just thought you didn’t watch the revived series?”

He softly scoffed. “I never said that! I watched it too, mainly to compare it to the classics but I’ve seen it.”

You leaned in, wanting to ask about his opinion on it. “Well, what do you think? I happen to be part of the minority who think the actor who reprised the role did alright.”

He liked seeing you like this. It made him feel like a puppy who had his owner’s undivided attention. All wide eyed and interested in his conjectures as to why the actor was alright himself but the problems were his short stint—making people vilify him over that decision—and the material some of the writers came up with. He appreciated you nodding along and supplying your own thoughts on the subject. It warmed his heart that here was a beautiful, smart, and cool person—way out of his league, he might add—giving her precious time away to discuss a nerdy sci-fi show that he could not rant and rave to about to anyone on the team, except for Penelope, and she’s rarely on the field with them. 

Your show of interest made him feel seen. Not as an agent with 3 PHDs, not as a genius with 187 IQ, but rather as a person with a right to express himself and occupy space. He wasn’t Agent Spencer Reid with you nor Dr. Spencer Reid, he was just Spencer who likes to watch Doctor Who and read literature in their original language. 

The third move Spencer did was proposed by Penelope Garcia, the spirited tech analyst 

“What do you mean you took her to a convention? For a date?” Penelope squeaked out, unable to comprehend the logic behind the genius’ actions.

“She said she always wanted to go,” Spencer stated as the elevator stopped on the fourth floor. He had fun over the weekend. Going around booths with you, listening to invited guest panels talk about the behind the scenes, explaining the reference every costume that you’ve pointed out, and just basking in your presence beyond cases. It was a memory he had replayed over and over after it had ended. It occupied his whole mind, and that’s saying a lot, causing him to do nothing and sit in his leather sofa and smile like a lunatic during the rest of the weekend.

“Well yeah, but that’s not date material! A date is supposed to be intimate—you and I go to conventions together, do you count that as a date?” 

“What? No! No, of course not!” 

“Exactly, boy wonder. Then what makes you think she’ll count that as a date?” She countered back as she entered her office with Spencer in tow. 

Silence. Oh.

Penelope sighed, having read the despair painting his face. “Did you at least dress up as the Ninth Doctor?”

“What? No. No, I went as the Fourth Doctor. I even hand-knitted the scarf myself.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before repeating what she just heard. “You didn’t dress up as her Doctor?”

“No,” he paused, unsure where she was going with this. “Should I had?”

“Yes! Yes, you should have!” Penelope slapped his arm out of frustration. “Why didn’t you call me once she said yes? We could have talked game plan or strategy or at least have gotten you a leather jacket to match her choice of companion.”

“Oh, I messed up then, didn’t I?” He slumped despondently on the office chair. “You—you don’t think she thought of it as a date at all?”

She played with her feathered pen, trying to find a way to salvage it for Spencer. “Did you take her out to dinner after?”

He shook his head, finally realizing his mistake.

“Oh Spencer,” she approached gently. “I can scoop for details with Y/N later on and report back to you?”

He shook his head. It didn’t feel right to have Penelope betray your trust and go behind your back over a mistake that he made. You were a honest person and you deserved to be treated with respect and reverence even though all he wanted now was peer into your viewpoint of the date—not date—and figure out once and for all if you saw him as anything beyond a co-worker and a friend. 

“Hm, I think I might just a solution,” Penelope blurted out of the blue. 

He looked up with a sliver of hope blooming in his chest. Maybe third time’s the charm. Besides, Penelope was the colleague you spent most of your time out with. You once mentioned that you considered her your best friend, besides from him of course. 

“You can bake her a batch of cookies! No one can say no to that,” she excitedly explained, believing it to be full proof—except for the fact that he doesn’t know how to bake. He wants to ask you out on a date but not to the expense of burning his whole apartment building down. 

“I can’t—I can’t bake, Garcia,” he squeaked out. “Did you know that 44% of all reported home fires are caused by cooking and baking. Those fires have resulted in an average of 470 civilian deaths and 4,150 civilian—”

She interrupted. “I’ll give you my recipe and detailed instructions to follow. That’ll make it easy peasy for you, boy genius.”

“C-can’t I just buy from her favorite bakery instead?”

“No can do, Doctor. Her favorite cookies just so happen to be my creation. She told me so herself.”

“Well, can’t I just ask you to make it for me? I’ll buy the ingredients!”

“Nope,” she dragged out her refusal. “Think of it as an act of service to her. Plus don’t you think it’s highly romantic when she finds out that you baked them yourself?” She swooned just thinking about it.

“Romantic? It won’t be romantic when I burn my apartment down, Garcia.”

She sighed. “Fine, I’ll supervise if you want. This weekend, granted if we’re free. But you—” she pointed her feathered pen at him. “—better be prepared and I’m just supervising, okay? I’m not baking it myself.”

He sighed. At least having Garcia around would make it easier.

———-

It did not in fact make it easier. Spencer burnt two batches before six pieces were considered edible. Garcia couldn’t understand, hell, he also couldn’t. Baking was precise and from his scientific viewpoint, it was a lot like chemistry. He loved science and anything academic, so how is it that he failed miserably, twice, when it came to baking? 

He shook his head as he entered the office. The first one—he stole a glance at Hotch’s office and saw movement—correction, the second one arriving early. Sometimes he wondered if the unit chief ever goes home, first in and last out.

He settled in his seat before promptly fidgeting from anticipation. Statistically speaking, you arrive earlier than Morgan or Elle which gave him enough time to gift the paper bag of cookies sitting hidden in his satchel without bringing attention to and embarrassing himself. He’d like to have little to no audience if he ever does mess it up for the third time. 

He brought out the cookies, afraid they’ll get crushed between his hardbound books, and placed them on your desk before standing to wash his clammy hands and make coffee. Counter intuitive of him to do as he was already a bundle of nerves and by drinking caffeine he was doubling that but maybe the smell would calm him before shooting up his energy by drinking.

As he exited the mens room, Penelope stepped out of the elevator and squealed. “Is she here? Is she? Did I miss it?”

He shook his head vigorously, trying to silence her excited glees. “No, she’s not here yet. She’ll—” he looked at his watch and ran the numbers. “—be here soon. I’m about to brew coffee. Do you want some?” He opened the door for both of them to enter the bullpen.

“Ick, no thanks,” Penelope said, scrunching her nose at the thought of drinking even a sip before scurrying away to her cave. “I’d rather not ruin my taste buds on bad coffee.”

He laughed and turned towards the kitchenette. With the coffee brewing, he drummed his fingers on the counter and mentally rehearsed what he would say to you. If he practiced, there’s less chance of messing it up like the first time, right? In his state of concentration, he missed you entering the office in all of your beautiful glory.

“Ooh cookies!” you exclaimed as you opened the unknown package on your table.

Spencer abruptly turned, hitting his side on the corners as he did. His eyes widened as he registered you holding the unsigned paper bag of treats on your desk. 

“They must be from Penny,” You continued on, oblivious to his presence and the devastation your remark caused him. Of course, he’d find another way to mess it up. You glanced around and your smile widened as you took in his handsome presence. “Oh hey Spence! Look, Penny made me cookies!” You tip-toed out of excitement. 

He smiled at your enthusiasm for something as simple as treats in the morning. The giggle you gave out as you entered the kitchenette was enough for him to slightly care less for the truth. He loved bringing out the happiness in you. It was like his own personal sunshine shining down on him, soaking him with vitamin D and boosting his overall sense of wellbeing. “Do you want coffee with that? It’s still hot,” he offered. 

You tapped the side of your hips with his as a sign of good will. “Thanks, Spence! This is turning out to be a great day, don’t you think?”

He watched as you busied yourself with putting cream and sugar in your of cup and sighed wistfully. “I think so too.”

And the last move Spencer did was recommended by no one but himself, the awkward 187 genius

With all three acts not delivering, he promised to try one last time without any outside interference besides from yours in his memory. You always did tell him to be himself in any situation, no matter how much he stumbled through any awkward situation—always there giving him a pat on the back for encouragement. 

Over the weekend, he spent his time reading two of your favorite books—which didn’t take much but he did read them again and again, regardless of his eidetic memory, trying to understand why these specific books were your comfort. Always pushed within the confines of your go bag, dog-eared and brown from age. He wanted to know how they’ve become an extension of you and how it had shaped you to the woman he has fallen in love with. 

He found himself hunched over his dining table, underlining sentences that made him think of you, scribbling away on the margins (and sometimes on post its too), and tabbing the written pages with a variety of colors that each represent an emotion. The act in it of itself made him feel closer to you than he thought possible. Lines in the books that made him think, ah so this was what formed your kind spirit. This is why your empathy knew no bounds. And this is why your beauty is inside and out.  

Spencer laid down to rest, anxious for the next day, Monday, to come. His heart threatening to beat out of his chest but his mind oddly calm as if it had a precognition that everything would turn out just right.

———

You arrived earlier than he did, throwing him off balance. 

“Hey Spence!” You greeted with a smile. “I got you a croissant and some coffee from that shop near my place.”

He blushed and stammered out a thank you. You were wearing a deep purple blouse that matched the scarf around his neck—the birthday gift you’ve given. He was no believer of the mystics but he took all of these as a sign from the stars. There was no way he would mess this up now.

“I—I got you something too,” he looked inside his satchel, hands shaking from it all. Gods, he wished this would go well or else, he might just die from embarrassment. “It’s nothing much but—I read your two favorite books and just—I wanted to discuss it with you,” he brought out the tabbed copies and presented them to you. “These are for you. I know you have copies of your own but I-I put my own notes on which lines reminded me of you.”

Your face turned red at the notion behind it all. Here was the BAU genius, the certified lover of the classics and the academia, the man who had your affections since day one, reading two contemporary literatures just for him to present you a gift like no other. You reached out and hugged the precious copies to your chest. 

“Thank you, no one’s ever done this for me before,” you breathed out, falling deeper into attraction with the perfection in front of you. “ Hey Spence, I may sound delusional asking this and you can say no if you want to but—” you visibly gulped, unaware of the audience nearby. “—would you like to have dinner with me? I make a mean lasagna.”

He turned red and vigorously nodded. “Y-Yes. Yes, I’d love to have dinner with you.”

You giggled, sounding like wind chimes to his ears. He did too, giggle I mean, from the triumph of finally knowing that his feelings were willingly reciprocated.

“Finally, you love birds!” Morgan shouted as he swung his arm around Spencer. “Didn’t know how much we could take from this pretty boy—” pointing at him “asking for advice and you—” pointing at you “—pretty girl is as dense as a rock. Tell me again how’d you end up as profiler with those observation skills.” 

A hand whacked him at the back. “Way to ruin the moment, Morgan.” Elle chided before turning to Spencer with a smile. “See told you, you could get a date.”

[dotthings]

Some tea from Richard Speight, Jr. about filming Cas’s testament scene has surfaced from DLC6. [x]

nothing cut from script to screen but they added things, such as Cas having to paint the sigil on the door and leaving the bloody hand print on Dean’s shoulder [my note: wbk about the additions during filming. There's still the matter of the spanish dub because the latam dubbing team felt a verbal I love you from Dean, made sense. And a few other lingering questions that have not actually been resolved and we may never know, but I'll go along. If Rich is happy with what was filmed and got to screen in the US, I'm glad. I love 15.18 either way. Rich's comments also goes to show how collaborative making tv is and how fluid the process can be.]

Rich said the scene wasn’t intended to be about Dean’s reciprocation, it was to give Cas his moment to speak his truth, to speak his love for Dean, and Cas didn’t expect an answer back, he just wanted to be heard, wanting Dean to know. [my note: makes sense to me, and it’s what I’ve thought about Cas pov. Cas pov not being the same as audience pov and what the story might need next and what Dean’s needs are. But for that scene, Cas feels complete. It also very much means the emotional story from Dean's side is not resolved. Dean wasn't given his chance yet, by creative design, perhaps because the only way they could get this greenlit at all is if it was only Cas who got to speak. We'll see what happens next.]

Rich saying because they did many takes of the scene with Dean’s emotional reactions, there are shots where Dean is crying more, or crying less. Editing put together different angles from different takes. [my note: the irony that naysayers are already trying to weaponize this to shut down the idea that anything got cut when per Rich himself, the facts on the ground are that the full range of Jensen’s acting for Dean’s response got reduced. No shade on Rich. But let's not erase or deny what was going on with Jensen's acting and how Jensen gave 110% and what wound up on screen was about 80% of whatever work Jensen did. Dean wept more than we saw, even before Dean was on the dungeon floor sobbing. Jensen’s performance as it stands is beautiful and powerful and full of emotion. It has taken an inordinate amount of hate and erasure, which is 100% cynical concern trolling to deny Dean’s feelings for Cas. More shots of Dean crying openly wouldn’t stop it, there’s no excuse for those responses. What’s there is loud enough. Only the most willfully cynical gaze could deny the love and anguish Dean showed.]

Rich said the parallel for John and Mary’s confession in TW 1x07 to 15x18 is a “coincidence” yet went on to talk about the trope of confessing love in a life or death situation and cited Leia and Han Solo among others [my note: it was also used again by an ep Rich recently directed in another piece of media I won’t say so I don’t spoil it. Also I’m laughing about how it seems he answered this. Total coincidence!! And spn 15.18 is like TW 1x07 is like Han and Leia and love confessions in dire situations is a common (romantic) trope. Pls, if anybody is taking away from this some kind of shutdown on creative recognition of the Destiel implications of it all, I don’t even want to know, I’ve had my fill of poor comprehension skills, poor critical thinking, and poor media literacy, oh my god]

Rich saying he was glad Cas’s words meant a lot to queer fans and that he feels it was important and a “bold” move that Bobo and Misha fought for. <3

So that's confirmation from director now, to add to writer intention, both actors, and an EP who greenlight Bobo's pitch for Cas’s testament as romantic. That is canon. That is a lock.

Cas's testament started out carefully padded into an “open to interpretation” zone. We have watched it be eased out of it and into the open.

I’m pleased it's openly acknowledged for what it is...and what I knew it was when the ep aired. I did expect it would be eventually, and would take some time. I’m glad it's here now.

As always, my appreciation for the work Rich, Bobo, Jensen, Misha did on 15.18 <333

[moog-rt]

ɪɴ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ [ch.4]

[Shigaraki Tomura x Fem!Reader]

Beginning: Prologue

Previous: Chapter Three

➨ Chapter Four

Next: Coming Soon...

Premise:

The multiverse theory is the idea that there is not only one universe but, instead, an infinite number of universes, parallel to one another.

You and Tenko were heroes in your universe. The war came and went, and that left only you. When you are thrown into a universe parallel to yours, you find out the hard way just how similar and different it is from your own.

A/N: My roommates and I totally got knocked tf out with the bad luck stick. This chapter already went through the first rounds of edits, and I was going to do a final round... but that was just not gonna happen today. So please excuse any typos or whatnot <3

♡

If you'd prefer to read on Ao3, here is the link:

Otherwise, enjoy!

♡ ♡ ♡

CHAPTER FOUR

Toga made an unpleasant face when you dropped your large wad of rain-soaked clothing into her open arms. She was the lucky duck that was chosen to escort you on your trip back to the hotel. It turns out she was typically the one who volunteered to run errands and shop for the boys thanks to her quirk being perfect for going out undetected.

For your brief outing, she took on the form of the woman you’d seen outside the convenience store with Shigaraki the night prior. Her pretty face was contorted in distaste as it was clear she wanted nothing more than to drop the soggy pile on the marble tiled floor. Unfortunately for her, you had to check out of the hotel first, and you needed both hands free in order to do that.

You thanked the receptionist with a friendly smile and dipped your head politely before turning to leave. Toga was quick to shove your hero suit into your belly, forcing you to take it back from her. She had enough strength behind it to make you stumble back a step or two.

“Agh! That was so not cool,” she complained as she rubbed her wet forearms off on her sweater.

You rolled your eyes. “It wasn’t even a full minute. You’re fine.”

“You could have at least warned me! That felt so gross.”

You snickered at her, receiving a childish pout in return. But then, your smile dropped, and Toga’s body stiffened as the two of you spotted a pair of police officers passing through the entrance of the hotel.

You pushed against Toga, directing her to the outskirts of the foyer, which was decorated with a generous number of potted plants that would give you cover. It was hard to feel completely hidden when your arms were full of not only your dripping clothing but also several bags from the light shopping you had done before coming here. Making a silent escape would be a feat.

Maybe you were overreacting. The officers would never be able to recognize Toga with her current disguise, and you were much older than your villainous counterpart. Surely, you looked different enough to slip by without catching anybody’s eye…

But that was probably a reach.

“They don’t know what you look like,” Toga whispered to you, tugging on your sleeve to get you walking towards the exit. She always had a knack for knowing exactly what was going through your head. It was somewhat comforting that this version of her was the same way. Then again, it could very well be that you were just easy to read.

You gave her a questioning look. You remembered seeing pictures of yourself in villain garb during your little research project this morning. They had to at least have an idea of what you looked like. Then again, you recalled that in each of them you had been wearing a mask.

You glanced back over at the cops who were walking up to the receptionist, and you allowed Toga to pull you away. You were almost out the door when you overheard a piece of their conversation.

“—card statements alerted us that she booked the night here. She’s been missing for over a week now.”

“Oh…What did you say her name was again?”

You knew you should just keep walking—you were almost out of view—but the sound of your name caused you to look back out of habit. Just then, the receptionist’s wide eyes locked onto yours. She looked confused, her mouth opening and closing as she searched for her words.

“Go,” you hissed, pushing Toga out the door and causing her to trip over her own feet. Your firm hold on her shirt kept her from falling as you hauled her out of the building and down the sidewalk. She whined and tried to wiggle out of your hold.

The hotel was supposed to be your last stop. You decided then that you would have to tack on a few extra to be sure you wouldn’t be tailed. The last thing you wanted was to lead the police straight to your villainous friends’ hideout. The two of you filed into the nearby station, and just as you reached the platform, one of the trains pulled up. You wasted no time in hopping on.

You never imagined you’d be the one running from authorities.

And now that you were, you hated it.

The way your head spun and your heart raced. How your hands were shaking so badly you were struggling to hold onto your bags. The anxiety that rushed through your veins, overwhelming and taking over your mind with dread over what was to come.

You knew you weren’t a villain, and realistically, you shouldn’t actually be in any trouble. They were looking for you because, in this world, you had a missing person’s case. If they caught you, the worst-case scenario would be an interrogation into why you disappeared. You wouldn’t be arrested for any real crime.

Still, you couldn’t help but panic. Maybe it was because you were with someone who was wanted as a villain. Even then, she was unrecognizable in her disguise. Most likely, you were so worried because never before had you been the one the authorities were after. You never imagined you’d find yourself in this type of situation—and you certainly didn’t know how to get yourself out of it.

In the end, you weren’t really the person they were looking for—rather, you were just a doppelganger of sorts—and you had no explanation for them if they did bring you in for questioning. You knew close to nothing about your past in this world. There was no way her life had been identical to yours considering the vastly different outcomes.

She had money, but how did she get it? A proper job or crime?

Who were her closest friends?

Where did she live?

Your best bet if you were ever caught was to fake amnesia, you reckoned.

Your heart rate only slowed down after seven or so stops. Toga was patient with you, but you could tell she was getting antsy and eager to get off the train. It was maybe the tenth stop when you finally stood up to leave.

The train let you off at a street full of shops and bustling people, very similar to the one you’d gone to earlier in the day. The air was full of chatter loud enough to be heard over a cacophony of music resulting from various playlists intermingling. Had you been in a mall, the music may have been a bit more in sync, but this was what happened when multiple stores wanted to create an ambiance for their customers.

Getting to the end of each block proved to be quite the chore as Toga’s attention was caught by every other window display. She whined about how she never got to buy nice things for herself anymore because she had no money. Needless to say, your soft heart would give in, and you’d walk away with her beaming and admiring her new apparel.

Your attention was caught at one point when you passed a shop selling a variety of used gaming consoles. Some of the posters taped to the front entrance were advertisements for games Tenko and Iguchi had introduced to you. Toga didn’t bat an eye, continuing on her way, but you paused to wonder, if you hadn’t died in this world, would you make similar memories with Shigaraki and Spinner?

You missed the days when the three of you would gather at one of your homes. Beanbag chairs and a plethora of pillows would be gathered in front of a TV, surrounded by a mountain of snacks to last you days. Tenko never failed to provide enough energy drinks to kill a horse. He wanted to ensure that you—in a food coma bliss—wouldn’t pass out before it even hit midnight.

The sun would be peeking over the horizon, and your bloodstream would still be saturated with caffeine, resulting in you badgering them mercilessly to prevent them from nodding off. You’d be buzzing in your seat as the three of you played on, framed by two zombies who wanted nothing more than to knock you unconscious. Once he had enough, Tenko would pull the plug and drag your whining ass to the makeshift beds Iguchi had set up earlier in the night. You’d only settle down after several minutes of Tenko’s arm latching you to the floor.

You’d like to think that your counterpart shared experiences akin to your own. Although, you wouldn’t be terribly surprised if being wanted criminals took precedence over finding the time and money to play games through the night.

You turned away from the shop to follow Toga back to the hideout.

Twice was quick to jump on you both as soon as you walked through the door. He wanted nothing more than to dig through the bags of new goodies you brought with you. Compress wasn’t so invasive, but he still hovered to catch a glimpse at whatever was pulled out. When Twice reached the plastic bag you used to carry your soaked garments, he made an alarmed noise and shoved it off on Compress who was also fairly displeased.

“What on Earth is this?” he said, aghast.

“It’s my hero suit… It was raining in my universe before I was sent here, so it got totally soaked through,” you explained, taking the clothing back from him.

“Oh, I was wondering why you looked so miserable last night!” Toga chimed. You pursed your lips.

“Anyway, I’m gonna go get changed into something a bit more palatable,” you said, digging through a large paper bag full of new clothes.

“You weren’t kidding about that hero crap?” you heard Shigaraki grumble.

You glanced over at him as he lounged across one of the battered sofas, gnawing on a candy bar. You couldn’t necessarily blame his distaste for heroes being that he was on the receiving end of their dutiful efforts. It was more understandable given you knew just who they really were—without this universe’s societal views blurring your beliefs into following them instead.

“Of course not,” you said as you pulled out a cozy pair of pants along with a soft sweatshirt.

“So, your morals align with theirs then,” he said, and you didn’t miss the mildly sinister undertone in his voice. You looked back over to see his eyes boring into you. He was waiting for your response, his body visibly tense. It was clear that the wrong answer would trigger an exchange with an unappealing outcome, and that seemed to be what he anticipated, though his deep frown suggested he preferred that not be the case.

“No…” you said softly, watching him carefully. You felt like Shigaraki wouldn’t think twice about going after you while your back was turned. You knew Tenko would never do that, but you also knew he was passionate about his world views, intense and driven to defend them. With him already being on the opposing side of the law, you weren’t sure where Shigaraki drew the line when it came to fighting for what he believed in. You’d like to think he was as sensible as you remembered.

Thankfully, you wouldn’t need to find out today. “No, the heroes here were my enemies where I come from.”

He scrutinized you, gauging whether to believe you or not, but after a moment, his narrowed eyes and tensed muscles relaxed. “Mm,” he grunted in acknowledgment before turning his attention back to his food, pretending to investigate whatever was written on the wrapper.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked back down at the outfit you picked out. You hadn’t noticed your heart rate was elevated until that moment, feeling it slow down.

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little bit curious as to what we’re like as heroes,” Compress pondered, a hand tucked under his chin.

“Me, too!” Toga said and attached herself to your back, putting most of her weight onto you. “Are we, like, so awesome?”

You glanced over your shoulder at her and chuckled. “Oh, definitely, but I’m sure you’re just as awesome here.”

She giggled before pestering you to share more.

So, you did.

“Our agency’s focus was mostly on rescue. We were usually the first to respond to natural disasters or the destructive aftermath of villain activity. Sometimes we’d be given assignments to gather intel to help out other agencies,” you explained.

“I’ve got a hard time believing Dabi’s good at rescue. He should just scorch them!” Twice butted in.

“I said mostly,” you laughed. “Dabi… kind of had his own role.” Speaking of, both he and Spinner were missing from the common area. “Is he around right now?”

“No,” Shigaraki clipped with a mouthful of food, “He’s out recruiting for us.”

“What about Spinner?”

You didn’t miss the way his eyes shot over to look at you, causing a slight shiver down your spine. You couldn’t pinpoint why, but in this universe, his energy had a menacing edge to it.

“He’s sleeping.” Shigaraki swallowed his last bite and dropped the wrapper beside him. “Why were you using past tense?”

“Was I?” It hadn’t even crossed your mind. Apparently, Compress noticed it, as well, nodding along as if he would have asked about it if no one else had. Toga and Twice seemed confused, looking between you and Shigaraki.

You drew back slightly. Telling all of them about the tragedy that had struck your group felt wrong… You understood that things were different here, but you also didn’t want to put meaningless fear into their heads. They wouldn’t be playing the same roles as they did in your past, so it wouldn’t make any sense for them to face the same fate.

“I guess…I guess it’s because I’m technically from the future?” You shrugged with a shamefully false smile. Lying about this didn’t feel all that great either. What if—because of weird universal parallel laws or whatever—they will meet the same ends as they did in your world? If telling them could change that, then that’s what you would want to do.

You would do anything to change what had happened to your friends.

Spinner’s words from earlier in the day rang through your head. There was still a chance that manipulating their timeline could create a paradox, the aftermath of which could be devastating—according to the limited SciFi media you’ve consumed on that subject matter.

You wanted to rip your hair out. You hated being in this position, and you were eager to get out of it. Hopefully, it wouldn’t take too long for you to hunt down Dai Uchuu and convince him to send you home.

There was a sharp tug at your heart.

It occurred to you that home wouldn’t have all the people you cared so much about. That should have been obvious, but it was easier to forget than you’d think. Still, that’s where your life was, and you had to live with the outcome of your own battles.

You pushed past that uncomfortable feeling with a little help from Toga and Twice badgering you for more details on their lives as heroes.

You continued to tell them about Toga’s success and promotion, and how Twice was invaluable for his productivity and utility on the field, amplifying everyone else’s capabilities tenfold. Compress and Tenko were excellent at clearing debris, freeing anyone trapped or injured. There were a few people you brought up who the others were unfamiliar with, such as Minji, Sakiko, and other old classmates of yours.

You wondered if they had yet to meet.

“That sounds like so much fun,” Toga said. She was plopped down in front of you, hugging her knees to her chest as she listened to you share stories about where you came from. She stared at the ground with a blank expression. “I wonder how we ended up so different.”

“Me too,” you muttered

“I’m glad we’re not heroes,” Shigaraki spouted, kicking his legs off the couch so he could sit up. His eyes settled on you.

“What?” you asked, a bit jarred by his comment. “Why? I can’t imagine living in hiding is all that fun.”

“Because we don’t have to conform to the shallow ideals of society. Heroes like to act like they keep the peace when, in reality, they turn a blind eye to those they deem beneath them. I’m not interested in playing pretend.”

You blinked.

Some heroes could be like that sometimes, but they were the vast minority. Most of the people you knew were genuine and loved being given the opportunity to help others. You were sure Tenko felt the same as you, but Shigaraki’s opinions were the stark opposite.

You assumed that could be attributed to the fact the heroes here were just as corrupt as the villains you knew them to be. Shigaraki was their villain, and they were his enemies. If you were in his shoes, you probably wouldn’t want to join the opposing team either.

The energy in the room had changed, and you all silently agreed to drop the topic. Toga stepped into the spotlight to start showing off everything you’d bought her, which led to Twice begging you to buy stuff for him, as well. Compress tried to be subtle about it, but it was clear he wanted in on the gift-giving by the way he began listing items he lost or wished he could buy.

At some point, Dabi had returned, and Spinner had risen. Dabi made a b-line for the scarce-looking bedroom, but Spinner was eager to join in the conversation. He was a little less self-centered about the things he thought you should buy, more so concerned with what the group needed as a whole.

Shigaraki was silent from his spot on the couch, seemingly uninterested in the conversation, but his eyes were locked onto you all the while. There were a few moments where you’d look over but quickly look away when you saw he was still staring. It felt like he was in deliberation with himself regarding your presence, like he had yet to decide whether he’d let you stay or not.

You weren’t kept in suspense for too long.

Spinner was in the middle of arguing with Twice about needs versus wants when Shigaraki butted in to announce you’d be staying with Toga overnight. Then he left, you assumed to retreat to his own bedroom. Compress and Twice turned in not long after, but Spinner hung around until Toga dragged you away to give you a tour of her room.

Hers was the one that looked like a bomb had gone off inside. Her clothing was overflowing out of her wardrobe and across the majority of the carpeted floor. You could barely see her bed underneath the mountain of plushies she’d accumulated, and you had to watch your step to be sure you didn't crush any of the scattered makeup.

You were soon thankful her messiness made you more attentive of where you were walking, because you noticed the gleam of a knife peeking out from beneath her clothing. You crouched down and carefully picked it up. “Um… Toga? Why do you have this in your room?”

She gasped as her eyes widened and a gleeful smile stretched across her face. She pranced over to you. “You found it! I’ve been looking everywhere for that!” She plugged it from your hand and held it to her chest, giggling and skipping away to find a new home for it.

Okay…

You elected to ignore her absurd behavior in favor of helping her clear a spot on the ground for you to sleep. She began handing blankets and pillows off for you to arrange however you preferred.

You dodged an oversized teddy bear, covering your head for safekeeping. You lowered one of the fluffy pillows being lent to you to send a playful glare at Toga as she rifled through her stuffed animals. She began pelting you with anything she thought would be a good addition to your makeshift bed.

“This is gonna be so fun!” Toga sang as she tossed another plushie in your direction. You caught it this time. She turned around to start helping you gather everything into a somewhat bed-shaped pile. “Tomura and I just bought a bunch of snacks and stuff, too—Oh, that’s when we found you!”

“Right. You guys left some stuff behind, by the way,” you hummed with a soft smile. You tucked a blanket around your mound of a mattress to help it keep its form. “I tried to give it back, but you guys were long gone, so I returned it to the clerk.”

“Hm, I would have kept it if I were you,” she said, side-eying you. “I know where Jin’s food stash is. I’m sure he wouldn’t care if we took some.”

“He wouldn’t care if you asked? Or wouldn’t care because he wouldn’t notice?” you catch, giving her a suspicious look. She grinned wide, showing off her sharp canines.

“Jin’s a sweety. He’ll understand,” she said, waving her hand as if she was shooing away the conversation topic.

You finished working on your sleeping arrangements, and Toga dug around in her closet for anything she could use to give you a makeover. You were offended at first by the way she chose to phrase it, but you could recall all the times you’d spent with your Toga. The horrors she put your hair and skin through had long since been buried away—way more than six feet under.

Your body was stiff as she began working with your hair.

“If only Magne were here, too. The three of us were planning a girls’ night before—” Toga paused, looking off to the side as she emitted a strained hum. “She said it would be good for team building.”

You looked down at your crossed legs.

Losing Magne was hard. No one could have anticipated such an outcome. The planning that had gone into that assignment felt endlessly meticulous not only for guaranteed success but also to avoid serious casualties. Everyone believed all bases had been covered.

But reality never goes exactly as planned.

There was no plan to account for the unexpected adversaries. No plan when so many of your allies’ lives were at risk. There was no plan to prevent Magne from jumping ahead to act as a buffer. She made her own plan, and she went through with it, and she succeeded. She saved all those lives at the cost of her own.

You weren’t sure how she passed away in this timeline, and you didn’t feel it would be appropriate to ask, but you had no doubt it was for something just as noble. This world may have deemed her a villain, but you knew her as a hero. You knew her ideology and goals, and it was a shame she—like all the others—wasn’t recognized for it.

You wanted to know how the morals of this society got flipped around. How were the real villains able to pull it off?

With copious manipulation tactics, you were sure.

“Were we ever able to hang out?”

“Huh?” You blinked back to attention. To be fair, you both had gone silent for a minute, allowing your mind to wander. “Oh. The three of us?”

“Mm,” she affirmed.

“Yeah…” You began picking at your nails. “Yeah, we got to hang out a decent amount.”

Her hands, which were busy at work with your hair, slowed down. “What kind of stuff did we do?”

You weren’t sure what to say. You wouldn’t have to worry about causing any paradoxes, since your stories were in both of your pasts at this point. Still, it wasn’t good to dwell too much on the past, or on what could have been.

That probably made you a hypocrite, but you weren’t too keen on taking your own advice on such matters.

“Magne would take us shopping sometimes,” you said softly. “Our work studies didn’t pay all that well, and she felt bad, so she’d want to buy us all sorts of things while we were out.”

“Like a big sister,” Toga suggested, her hands returning to her normal pace.

“Or a cool aunt or something.” You smiled and turned slightly to look over your shoulder at her. Her eyes were focused on her hands, but she was smiling, too.

♡ ♡ ♡

taglist: @boogiemansbitch @multisstuff @local-s1mp

[thespacesoffalseandtrue]

After All This Time

pairing: josh x (f) reader

summary: you visit your partner while he’s away on tour and you both can’t resist one another.

warnings: unprotected sex, smut, minors dni, fingering (f) receiving, some fluff in there too. let me know if i miss anything and as usual my requests are open ;)

The hallway was brightly lit and smelt clean. This was a nice hotel, much nicer than the ones they used to stay at when things were just beginning to pick up. You could hear your footsteps echo throughout the empty hallway and you bring your hand to knock on the door labelled 316. You knew he would be in there, alone, preparing for the show happening tomorrow evening. Everyone else, was out having their fun, but he needed detachment. Something he has always needed before he went on stage.

You waited and heard the oncoming footsteps and the door swung open. He wasn’t expecting you and the look of surprise filled his features. You’re pulled from the doorway, and into the large hotel room in less than two seconds. His arms wrap around you, crushing you in a bear hug.

“Surprise,” you murmur into his shoulder. He smelt the same, like cedar, and leather, and something so him that only you would recognize it. You wrap your arms around him and give him a tight squeeze.

“What’re you doing here? I thought you wouldn’t be here for a couple more days?” Josh rushes out, his face buried in your hair.

“I just missed you,” you respond, “I couldn’t wait any longer to see you.” You whisper, pulling him even tighter to you.

He broke the hug, but kept your body close to his. His nose touched yours and he brought his lips to yours. It was a whisper of a kiss, nothing to express the desperation to see him that you have felt for the past few weeks. He brought his hands to your sides and gave you a squeeze. Causing you to bend away, giddy with laughter, taking a few steps away.

“Don’t tickle me,” you say with a grin. He matches your expression and reaches his hands out to you.

“I missed your laugh, I can’t help it,” he responds, moving towards you again.

You move around him, deeper into the hotel room. It was easy to see how he would get lonely here. It was much too big for him. A large couch sat against the wall facing the TV and parallel to large windows that overlooked the night life of the city. You can see bits of him scattered around. The paperback book with folded pages sitting on the table, the hot cup of tea, and the folded clothes on the bed.

His arms wrap around you and you do little to break away from him. The two of you broke into fits of laughter instantly as you hit the couch and his body weight crashed on top of yours, smooshing you into the cushions underneath you. He hovered over you and held himself up with his hands slightly so that all of his weight wasn’t fully on you. You threw your head back laughing and when you looked back at him, he had a wide smile on his face. He scrunched up his nose and squinted his eyes as he smiled.

He relaxed his face and looked at you underneath him for a second. You looked back into his eyes. They were filled with love and you couldn't help but wonder if he saw the same in yours.

He licked his lips as he looked down at you. A devilish smirk spread across his face and in an instant, he leaned onto you, pushing you deeper onto the couch, and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

He kissed lightly on your lips and moved his lips to nip playfully at your neck. You giggled at the feeling of his lips on your neck and his facial hair tickling your skin. He giggled back and his entire body vibrated on top of yours. He let out laughs through his nose, pushing out hot air onto your skin.

You moved your shoulder up in an attempt to push his head out from that spot. It worked a little, but the way he folded his lips over his teeth and playfully took soft bites out of where your neck met your shoulders made you involuntarily tip your head in the opposite direction as you laughed harder.

You reached up and snuck your hand in between your neck and his face, using it to push his face away. You went to tickle his neck, where he was the most ticklish. He let out a giggle and scrunched his head into his shoulder, swishing your hand.

“How does this feel?” You teased him in a mocking tone.

As he smiled, you caught a glimpse of the dimple that came out only on his left cheek. You pulled your hand to touch it and bring his face back down to yours. This kiss was different from the ones before as the energy shifted between the two of you. Hands began to explore through the fabric of each other's clothes.

He stood up swiftly, grabbed your hand, and walked you into the bedroom. You didn’t hesitate to bring your lips back to his as you walked backwards until you felt the bed on the back of your knees. You pulled him on top of you as you laid down against the fluffy white comforter.

“Can I take this off?” he whispered against your lips, tugging the hem of your tshirt.

You nodded and arched your back slightly so he could throw it over your head, leaving you exposed in only your bra. He didn’t waste any time, bringing his lips against the hollow of your neck, then your collarbone, then your shoulder. His hand slipped underneath the strap of your bra tugging it down your arm. You knew what he wanted and you shifted slightly up so that he could unclasp it from behind your back. His eyes met yours, is this okay?

You smiled at him, gave him a quick kiss and brought his hands to the clasp behind your back.

In one swift move he has the bra unclasped and thrown on the floor with your shirt.

Pressing his hips to yours, he kisses you until you're breathless, slowly grinding himself down against you. A moan from you is stifled by his lips, but he smiles a little anyway, loving the sound. Then, he pulls away and begins to kiss down your naked torso, first starting at your throat and leisurely begins trailing his lips down your sternum. Your breathing picks up when you feel his hot breath between the valley of your breasts and your head pushes back into the pillows when he sucks at the nipple on your left breast. He hums against your skin, his tongue licking and nipping at your skin and making your back arch. He grins as you do so, making his teeth lightly graze against you and a shocked gasp rips away from your throat. your body was buzzing, every touch, even just a light graze, felt like a shock.

“Josh..." you sigh, closing your eyes when his hand reaches up to massage your breast, that was unoccupied by his mouth. You move and place your hand on top of his, he looks up at you, his eyes are glazed over with lust.

You tug at the collar of his shirt and without further questions he pulls the shirt over his head and discards it on the floor.

He resumes his position of his mouth on your other nipple this time and you shudder against him. He pulls off your tit with a pop and rolls your nipple between his thumb and finger, and you moan deep in your throat. Josh smiles sweetly at you before ducking back to continue his kisses downwards.

When his hand removes itself from your breast, you make sure to replace it with your own and cup your other tit as well. Kissing his way across your tummy and hips he watches you knead your own breasts and move your hips slowly against him. He groaned in his throat and adjusted his shorts.

“Take them off,” you tell him, breathless.

“You first,” he says, working at the button on your shorts. You arch your back so he can slide him off your legs. He follows suit and takes his shorts off as well.

Leaving your underwear on, he gets back to work, he kisses over your abdomen and hips, the scruff on his face tickling you a little. His lips trail along the tops of your thighs, and takes his knuckles across the waistband of your underwear.

“Can I touch you?” He asks, kissing your hip bone. You don’t need to point out that he’s already touching you. You know what he means. Always the giver, he was. You don’t answer, instead you shift and arch up so that you can slide your underwear off. You can see his dick growing in his underwear and you want to move to free it from his boxers.

You stare down at him as he kneels before your center sitting back on his heels and lifting both your legs up to rest against his shoulders.

You hold his gaze and he rubs his hands over your inner thighs and your eyelids flutter shut. He kisses both sides of your inner thighs. you can feel his eyes on you, unwavering.

He takes his time, licking you slowly. You can see a slight smile on his mouth as he watches you lean your head back against the couch and a moan breaks from your throat.

“You taste so sweet," he mumbles, kissing your clit and making you inhale sharply, "you're my sweet girl."

"Yeah," you gasp out even though he wasn’t asking for confirmation from you.

"Mhm," he hums, beginning to pick up the pace and really start devouring you.

You squeeze your eyes shut and clutch his hair, only making him groan more against your clit.

He begins to suck on your center and you buck into his face gasping aloud not expecting him to do that. His eyes find yours again and his cheeks are red and flushed with lust.

“Don’t stop,” you barely get the words out and your grip tightens in his hair. You can hear him gasp out and laugh against you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, kissing your inner thighs again and running a finger up your center causing you to shutter. You almost whimper at the lack of stimulation. Without looking away from your eyes he slips one finger inside you, followed quickly by another. “I missed you so much, I’m going to take my time with you, is that okay?”

You don’t trust yourself to speak so you only nod. You would allow him to do anything to you.

His fingers circle your entrance, teasing, you moan loudly when they slip all the way into you.

“Does that feel good,” he says, shifting so that he can press a quick kiss against your breasts and then your neck and then your mouth. He begins to move his fingers in and out of you at a pace, circling your clit with his thumb. You moan out his name, you can feel your body heighten and come alive with pleasure, taking you to your edge.

“Yeah,” you answer and grip his bicep so tightly that your knuckles are white.

“You feel so good around my fingers,” he says against your neck where he begins to suck and nip on the sensitive skin. “Are you gonna cum for me? Are you gonna cum on my fingers?”

“Yes," you reply in a hushed voice, furrowing your brow and bucking your hips up as he continues sliding his fingers in and out of you at a quick pace, "Don’t stop that feels so good!"

"Let it go, baby,” his free hand comes up to hold your chin in between his fingers while he rests his forehead against yours, looking deep into your eyes, "Let it go for me, baby."

His voice is deep and heavy of lust, his choice of words set you over the edge, making you cum with a quick shout. You pull him into a kiss while you climax, grinding your hips into his hand as you ride it out. You can feel his lips spread into a triumphant smile against your own.

He breaks away from your mouth and moves his fingers from your center. looking into your eyes he sucks your orgasm off of his fingers.

“So good,” he smiles, “do you want to taste yourself?” he was already bringing his mouth to yours, his tongue opened and entwined with yours. You moan against his mouth as you taste yourself. You wrap your arms around his neck pulling him flush against you. Chest to chest. the kisses were steady, rhythmic, neither of you in a rush. You wanted a few more moments to come down completely from your high, and you knew Josh isn't going to move ahead until you were ready.

Soon the pace picks up, and hands begin to wander. This time, your fingers reach down to trace the waistband of his briefs. He doesn’t stop you, just continues to kiss you. When he feels your fingertips touch his hard cock, he pulls away from your lips and looks down at you with hungry eyes.

You smile softly back at him, letting him know you were okay and pulling against the material of his underwear.

You could feel his hardening cock strain against the soft fabric, begging to be freed. He adjusts himself slightly above you so that he can free himself from his underwear. He kisses your nose gently and you laugh at the gesture. So sweet and so Josh.

He pulls your arms up so they hook around the back of his neck and attaches his lips to your neck, kissing and sucking and licking. Another groan comes from your chest, and you let him leave hickeys all over your skin.

Your center begins to throb with need, and you begin to trail the knuckle of your finger down his hard stomach before flattening your palm on his abdomen.

“Can I touch you?” you ask him this time. He groans against your neck and nods his head, curls brushing against your skin. You reach between your legs and gather a bit of your wetness on your fingers before wrapping your hand around his hard length.

He huffs quick breaths against your collarbone, pausing his kisses to close his eyes and let you jerk him off. He can't help his tiny whines and moans in your ear. Picking up his head, he kisses over your chin and up your cheek before pushing himself up on his hands to hover above you higher. Looking down between the two of you, his mouth drops ajar as you rub the head of his cock over your center, collecting your wetness.

"Fuck me," he groans, biting his lip and letting his hazy eyes look back down at you.

You can imagine your eyes match his, heavy and lustful. You spread your legs wider and wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

Slowly, you rub his dick up and down between your folds, nibbling on your lower lip. He takes your hand off of him shooting you a wink, he is ready to take the lead again. He places himself at your entrance and slowly sinks himself into you, both of you moaning and groaning with pleasure.

He comes down to hide his face in your neck again. You just place your hand on the back of his neck and squeeze your thighs around his torso, letting him take his time to get adjusted.

"You feel so fucking good," he gasps out pressing a kiss to you shoulder, "I’m going to move, okay?"

"Okay," you nod, closing your eyes when he pulls out an inch before slowly sliding back in. His hands move to find yours at his neck and laces his fingers with yours.

With his body moving with yours, you felt as if you were on fire. Sighs and gasps, and whimpers and moans of pleasure fill the room as he repeats his actions, taking it slow and deep. You call out his name when he pulls halfway out before slamming back in, moaning through his teeth when you clench tightly around him. You were building again and he knew it.

Your eyes roll back and you turn your head to the side, covering your mouth with the back of your hand which Josh immediately pulls away.

“I want to hear you, I want to hear you call out for me,” he says.

The room is filled with the sound of your satisfaction and his skin on yours. The noise of your wetness around him makes Josh groan and go a little harder, grinding his hips against yours slowly to hit that spot deep within you.

A cry rips from your throat and you dig your free hand into his shoulder. He does it again, pulling out and pushing back in making another groan rip from your chest.

"Yes, Josh, right there," you sigh, "don't stop, baby."

"You're so tight," he mutters, trying to keep his pace even, rolling his hips against yours, moving deeper inside you with each thrust. “It feels so fucking good,” he squeezes the hand that is laced with his. His brown eyes look down at you with so much more than just lust and he’s holding you so carefully, so purposefully trying not to hurt you.

You cry out when his tip grazes your cervix. He kisses you deeply bringing his hand down between your sweaty bodies to rub circles over your throbbing clit.

The stimulation brings you closer to the edge, a whine slips from your mouth. He was everywhere. on your skin, on your tongue, in your mind. everything was pushing you closer to the edge.

"I'm gonna cum," you breathe out against his lips while he keeps up his relentless thrusts, he groans in response.

With just one more thrust into you and you feel your orgasm rip through you a second time. A choked sob escapes your lips and you break away from his mouth and allow your head to fall back against the pillows. Your legs are shaking around him as his pace picks up, he’s so close, you can feel his cock twitch inside you.

“Cum for me,” you say, stroking his cheeks. His eyes meet yours.

“You’re so pretty under me,” he says, eyes meeting yours. His cheeks were bright pink, his hair was disheveled, and his eyes were heavy with lust.

“You’re so pretty on top of me,” you smile at him. His thrusts being uneven and you didn’t have to guess before he says, “fuck, I’m cumming, where should I-"

“Inside, I want to feel you inside,” you say, interrupting him before he could even get the sentence out. His hips falter, your words encouraging him to cum inside you, suddenly slamming all the way in you still while he lets out a deep groan, emptying himself into you.

Your chests rise and fall in unison and when he lowers himself on top of you, his dick still inside you, you unlace your hand from his and wrap your arms around him. Your hands come up to play with his hair, and he runs his nose up and down the side of your neck, whispering praises into your skin. Then, once you have both recovered, he pulls out of you and lays down next to you, pulling you into his side and kissing your bare shoulder.

“This was the best surprise ever,” he says with a dazzling grin on his face. “Ready for round two?” You giggle and wrap your arms around him, how could you deny him after that.

[lc-holy]

Miraculous awakening Live-blog:

Originally I didn't want to watch the film because I know I'm not going to like it, but since I've seen a lot of people talking about it, I thought I'd make up my own mind.

(I watch the film in French)

Fu's voice is a little less cartoonish than in the series. But what intrigues me is who is Fu talking to? Is he breaking the 4th wall by talking to the audience?

He could also have said: "this film is a Jeremy Zag fanfic, it's not canon to the series".

So Marinette in the film is ashamed of her father? I can understand that she's a teenager, and that her father is a bit overprotective.... It's a bit cliché and déjà vu but hey.

Wow, Sabine and Marinette's discussion in the bakery... it was too weird and unnatural.

First song... it's so weird... I don't understand what's happening? We see Marinette taking a bike, going in all directions, but finally coming back to the bakery...

And I have the impression that the lyrics don't match what we see on screen? I have the impression that the song wants to show us that she's weird because she's clumsy like in the show, but at the same time she doesn't say it clearly.... I find the song lyrics too vague and empty... I don't understand what this song is trying to tell me...

Oh, Gabriel! His design is my least favorite at the moment. Mostly because of his tiny shoulders! In the series, his shoulders are broad, which gives him presence.

Oh, it's nice to see how Gabriel's clothes are made. After all, in the show, Gabriel doesn't want to leave his house and does everything by phone. I think it's nice. But the scene didn't even last 1 minute...

Alya saving Marinette was pretty good here.

So Alya likes to film people making fools of themselves? I thought her passion was journalism and superheroes! And Marinette smiling? If I were her, I'd be afraid she'd film me without my knowledge and post it on the Internet.

Well, the dialogue is awkward, but I understood what Alya meant xD

I don't quite understand Marinette's montage, which is supposed to show us her clumsiness...  I don't think Marinette is all that clumsy, actually. She's supposed to be the school's disaster girl, but she hasn't done anything really catastrophic.

Wow the miraculous butterfly giving end-of-the-world flashbacks.... I wasn't expecting that.

But why is everyone laughing at Marinette! She hasn't done anything particularly embarrassing...

First interaction between Adrien and Marinette, it's pretty sweet. I can see why she has a crush on him, he's one of the first people to be nice to her (although there was Alya too, but hey). But Adrien disappearing while putting the books away! I burst out laughing. Did he run away or what? He hadn't even finished putting the books away! And the fact that he said afterwards that he found Marinette too weird? Is that why he ran away?! It makes the scene less cute...

Adrien: "I'm used to it, I work alone all the time." I don't understand why he says that? Why does he work alone? In the show I can understand, he's home-schooled, but here I don't understand what they wanted to tell us about Adrien with this sentence...

So in the film Adrien can go out whenever he wants, ok.

Fu is very strange, but it's funny. Fu giving her the ladybug's miraculous is almost the same as in the show, except that in the show fu gives her his miraculous because she saved him but also because he saw her clumsiness and lack of confidence.

I thought it was funny at first, but fu is starting to get creepy, and I feel like I'm watching a parody of miraculous here.

Okay, the akumatization scene could have been interesting, especially with the parallel when Adrien finds the black cat ring and the failed marriage proposal. But the akumatization is so quick??? We don't have time to feel all the frustration of the akumatized character, who cries and suddenly growls a little because he's not happy. We don't see Gabriel feeling the negative emotions. And no pact between Hawkmoth and the akumatized? okay...

And we're talking about the fact that Adrien didn't have to do much to get his miraculous? It just came to him because he's the chosen one. The same goes for Marinette... in the end, the fact that she saved Master Fu's life was for nothing, since the miraculous come magically to the chosen ones.

Wow Calm down tikki... I have a feeling she's going to be radically different from tikki from the series. I feel more like tikki with Plagg's behavior.

Tikki's rap is weird, I don't know if I like it or not xD

Marinette: "First a song, now a yo-yo and then what? A dinette?" Huh? You know you can be humorous and still make sense. Maybe it's just the French translation.

Is the yo-yo alive?

Huh?! Chat noir is here?! But we didn't see Plagg and Adrien meet! We didn't see Adrien transform! We didn't see Adrien's reaction when he discovered the miraculous....

Chat noir: "A young girl doesn't hang out in a place like this at this time of night" How to destroy the charm of Chat noir's character in one line... But it's a different story, so the characters are bound to be a bit different, so we'll let it slide.

It's a shame we didn't get to see Adrien's reaction when he found out he'd been chosen to be a hero, because he seems to be playing the super-mysterious hero by hiding in the cathedral. So far we haven't seen much of Adrien, except that he looks sad to have lost his mother.

Chat noir is a bit strange? As we haven't really been introduced to Adrien, we don't really understand why Adrien suddenly changes personality...

He made a joke without being insufferable! Phew, it's Chat noir all right. And then he calls Ladybug assistant... Chat noir... I believed in you...

Alya says Ladybug is strong, even though she's done absolutely nothing so far.

The lighting effects are really nice.

Oh my, the careless whisper music started when Chat noir took Ladybug's hand! What's that music?

So Ladybug and Chat noir didn't beat the akumatized person, the butterfly simply left the object. Which makes me think that Tikki didn't explain how to purify the akuma! She should have explained this to Marinette instead of telling her to trust herself.

So it's Fu that explains their power ok. But even after falling in love with Ladybug, Chat noir still wants to go it alone?

What's with the characters in this movie disappearing like that?! Is master fu a ghost?

Plagg is so pathetic?! What did you do to him?! Is this his first on-screen interaction with Adrien?! I feel like they introduced him to us as if we already knew him.

He farts and burps, yay.... It's the quintessence of humor. (I'm not against fart jokes, but in movies it's always complicated to make jokes like that).

Stop farting plagg!!!! Aaaaaahhhh!!!

So is Hawkmoth a separate entity? But then, who is Hawkmoth? And is Nooroo kind?

Nooroo: "These powers aren't meant for this" Nooroo says this when Hawkmoth tells him he wants to cause chaos to get Ladybug and Chat noir's miraculous back. So Nooroo's power can also be used for good? like in the show?

Uh... what year is the film set in? Are there any prisoners in the catacombs???? Are people still selling newspapers in the streets? What's going on?

I'm sorry, but the akumatizations in this film make no sense....

Nino tells Adrien to be super mysterious to seduce the person he loves. But this scene should have taken place before Ladybug met Chat noir! Chat noir's behavior would have made more sense!

Why doesn't Adrien want to stay with Marinette? Because he thinks she's weird? (#notmyAdrien)

Well, their discussion is actually quite cute.

The action scenes are nice, but we need to stop using unnecessary slow motion. Why slow down when Nino confesses to Alya?

Ladybug still had a plan to beat the bad guys, even if there was no Ladybug vision. Wait... Isn't there a lucky charm?

But don't akuma go into objects?! They go into people! Oh okay... it wouldn't be very kids friendly to break their leg to get the akuma out of their body anyway...

Meh... the way she purified the akumas was not impressive at all. And she didn't do what she did in the show and get the akumas that formed Hawkmoth's head. It would have been cool to see this scene with this animation. Well...

oh? Chat noir became a little more humble all of a sudden.

Parisians still read newspapers? Don't they have the Internet?

Ladybug and Chat noir advertising cars? The subtlety of this ad xD it made me burst out laughing.

The rooftop scene is very cute, too bad it ends with Chat noir blocking Ladybug against a wall.

Tikki forced Marinette to touch Adrien's hand to bring him closer and now that Marinette wants to ask Adrien to go to the ball, she tells him to stay focused on her mission? She was fearless from the start and now she's cautious? Why is that? Tikki's behavior has changed completely...

Do the earrings flash in case of danger? It's not very discreet, but okay.

So Chat noir pretended to be in danger to get Ladybug to come?

Wait, wait... Chat noir tells his life story here?! And his secret identity? oh... that’s right... From the beginning, they never talked about the importance of keeping their identity a secret... So if it doesn't matter, why don't they already know who they are!

Adrien: "Since my mother died, I've sworn not to get attached to people, so as not to suffer" Ok Gwen Stacy.

Joking aside, we see so little of Adrien interacting with others in this film that this sentence is a little surprising. And he has Nino, doesn't he? Isn't he his friend? In fact, we don't really know what their relationship is, since they've only exchanged two sentences.

In all the songs, French lip-synching is catastrophic....

"Every day you save the world with that mask but the girl wearing it saved my heart" "How could I have imagined for a second that she could love me, behind my mask hides an empty and abandoned heart" Chat noir throwing out corny quotes he found on the internet xD

And stop farting plagg !!!! I promise you I love plagg in the series but here he is uninteresting and insufferable!!!!!!

Ooh... Gabriel are you okay?

Adrien gets angry with his father, but he doesn't care that he's in a terrible state?

Oh! Adrien "tutoie" his father in the film.

And we've never seen Chloé and Adrien interact with each other... Are they childhood friends or not?

And Marinette loses hope again ...

Stop with the careless whisper music, please.....

No, just no ... even if Adrien is heartbroken, he'll still turn into Chat noir to save Paris ... now Adrien is just selfish. He turns into Chat noir just to see Ladybug. This scene really made me angry...

The fact that they say they're "stronger together" is starting to get on my nerves. It's so cheesy.

Chat noir cataclysm is a liquid?

Hawkmoth masters the force?!

Tikki: "Get up, Marinette, don't let your fear paralyze you" No, but you have to stop using phrases like "go and believe in yourself!". Marinette has a head injury and has to be taken to hospital.

So there wasn't even a final fight? Quite simply: Oh no, Chat noir is my son! I'll stop being mean!

Gabriel's story told in a minute. I prefer Felix and Kagami to tell it, sorry Gabriel.

Gabriel: "The only power stronger than death is love" Gabriel, even you don't deserve to say such corny things...what have they done to you, poor guy...

I heard Fu was more competent in this movie than in the series. And really...I don't see how...he served any purpose other than to explain their power. He didn't even choose the heroes.

Ladybug: "the power of love will be there to protect you" ah yes, the film completely assumes its cheesiness.

So there's no Miraculous ladybug: it's the power of love that literally fixes everything.

Didn't we even see Marinette make her dress?

Has Adrien turned into Luka or what? Instead of playing guitar chords, he's playing cheesy poem quotes!

This final scene is long....

This identity reveal sucks... my god... no impact.

 I'm not giving a score because I don't like to rate films. But here's my general feeling:

This is fan fiction written by someone who can't write. I tried to detach myself as much as possible from the series, but even though I knew nothing about Miraculous, everything is too vague and unexplained. The relationships between the characters are bizarre and unlovable.

Marinette is an empty shell who tells us nothing except that she doesn't trust herself.

There's nothing charming about Chat Noir, who thinks only of Ladybug and has nothing heroic about him.

The relationship between Gabriel and Adrien is non-existent.

Chloé is useless.

Plagg just farts...

The final battle is non-existent... ! ! !!!

Yes, you don't write a series like you write a movie, but here instead of taking another direction to make a parallel universe to Miraculous the series, they just took away everything that made it fun. They didn't add anything or develop anything differently, they just took things away.

The music in a musical should tell a story, but here it's the same thing all the time... and it doesn't tell much either.

If you like the film's music, I think you might enjoy the film, because it's watchable. It's not horrible, but it's forgettable and cliché.

I'm not going to talk about this movie again, I'm clearly not the target audience. I'll leave it to those who will like the film. I will only continue to watch the series and the special episodes.

[logicalbookthief]

With the return of Misaki and the uncertainty over Miri’s custody, I think it’s time to talk about the cat.

Because the cat is a direct parallel, and the reason why I believe things will go differently this time around, since they’ve both grown a lot over the last year.

The argument over the cat perfectly illustrates the crux of Rei & Kazuki’s issues at the start of the series.

Kazuki tells Rei that buying food for the cat isn't enough, you have to be willing to put in the work — and, given that he was gone for one night and comes home to an apartment filled with smoke, along with a pile of take-out and garbage, he was 100% justified in refusing the stray. Genuinely I don’t get why Kazuki taking this stance got the hate it did, any responsible pet owner would look at the Rei of Ep 1 and agree he was not ready for a cat.

However, this is something that Rei grows to understand when he’s left to care for Miri on his own in Ep 7 and Kazuki isn’t around to shoulder that responsibility. Rei realizes that his actions, or inaction, can negatively affect the people in his care, and it gives him a reason to change. I think it also gives him a new appreciation for everything Kazuki does, hence his attempt at French toast.

But I feel we don't discuss Kazuki's reason for giving up the cat enough, because they’re two sides of the same coin.

What he’s saying is objectively true and you can tell he’s speaking from a place of experience with what happened to Yuzuko. However, he is only focused on how what they do can affect the other people in their lives. No mention of how it would feel to lose someone or any lingering on how lonely this life is.

It’s a contrast to Rei, who brings home the stray without a second thought, simply because he wants to, not considering the impact it would have on the cat. Kazuki takes this to the opposite extreme, only considering what’s best for the cat and completely ignoring his own wants and feelings.

So, as we know, the cat is left where Rei found it. Not an ideal situation, no — much like leaving Miri with her mother would be, considering she did abandon her before — but it is the safer option in both cases.

Watch these scenes and tell me he isn’t fond of the cat. And when he realizes it’s cold and comes back with food for the little guy? Yeah, don’t tell me he wasn’t already attached.

But he comes back to an empty box. Implying to Kazuki, and to us the audience, that the cat was taken in by someone who could give it the normal, loving life that it deserves, which is why Kazuki leaves with a smile.

It is interesting to note that despite his disagreement, Rei went along with Kazuki’s decision over the cat, just as he went along with Kazuki’s decisions regarding Miri, whether that meant taking her back to her mom or committing to being her parents.

I always read this scene as Rei seeing how happy Kazuki is having Miri around. And thus he questions if this is really what Kazuki wants to do, resulting in that startled expression on Kazuki’s face. Like he hadn’t even considered that possibility.

Rei is perceptive, recognizing that Kazuki will be sad to see her go, yet he doesn’t argue when Kazuki firmly negates this as an option while looking upset again.

Kazuki has made strides in moving on from his wife’s death, but the idea that it’s okay to move on doesn’t erase the insecurities and tendency toward self-loathing he’s displayed, which were probably there long before he met Yuzuko. Even when he reconciles with Karin, her words of encouragement are, “I bet you can make her [Miri] happy!”

So if he truly believes that Miri will be happier or safer with her mother, Kazuki will absolutely choose to let her go.

And it will be up to Rei to go against his decision for once, because he knows that remaining a family is what they both want.

Here, Kazuki looks sad and resigned. I was always sort of disappointed we didn’t get a scene of Rei & Kazuki during Ep 7 when he was at his lowest and most self-deprecating. Now, though, I wonder if they were saving such a confrontation for this moment right here. Where Rei will have to convince him that his own happiness is a priority, too, and that their family is worth fighting for.

Now, uh. I do think that Rei’s decision that they stay together as a family will result in tragedy — there is too much foreshadowing to pretend otherwise — and that maybe Miri will have to stay with her mother for a bit out of necessity. But the point of this episode I think will be to highlight how much these two have grown because they wanted to be better for Miri and that it isn’t selfish to want to pursue that happiness for their own sakes, too.

[l00rem]

Gibeon & Amethio are related, but they are not father and son.

So, ep45 had me applying my clown makeup as I was a firm Gibeon is related to Amethio denier and that has uh clearly been proven true by that final scene… but I still don’t think they’re father and son like most people seem to be saying. First, let’s start with Gibeon’s physical condition.

It seems clear by his position in the reveal that he suffers with functioning properly, this is further demonstrated with Hamber’s ‘Gibeon is awake’ comment. Considering he’s at least over 100, this is probably him abusing his mortality coming to bite him in the ass or some injury he sustained when Lucius kicked him out of the Rakua gc. And while pokemon never acknowledges topics like sex for obvious reasons, I doubt the writers would ignore the fact that Gibeon is clearly not in any condition to be breeding (dude only holds like 3 min meetings before going back to bed, he could never last that long in a physical activity such as that)

Now, this brings me to another theory i’ve been seeing: Amethio is some sort of clone/ artificial human being. I can see why some people think this, but i don’t think it’s going to happen. I just think it goes against the themes horizons has been setting up about generations (ex: ep34 where Hamber and Diana both pass things down to Liko and Amethio) i think it would be weird to have all this stuff about ancestry and then just throw in ‘oh and amethio’s not human btw’. It’s also just a really dark existential topic for pokemon, i know they can go dark and have done artificial creation before but that’s always been strictly for pokemon at least to my knowledge. I think people who believe in clone theory are getting too caught up in their Amethio and Hunter from ToH comparisons- ofc your free to theorise what you want but I just don’t see this happening.

To give some more solid proof that Amethio isn’t Gibeon’s son, let’s look at Liko’s ancestry.

As we can see, hair does seem to matter when it comes to being directly descended from someone. All three have the same hair pattern, even if we can’t see the brighter blue for Lucca’s. Compare this to Lucius’s hair:

It’s been made very clear that Liko is a descendant of his somehow, but this isn’t as direct as a great grandfather because then Diana could’ve literally just asked her mom who the man in the photo was to learn they’re related. Lucius resembles them somewhat but there are very clear differences.

Likewise, this seems to be the case with Gibeon and Amethio’s hair differences. They have the same colour scheme of white and black, but the way the two colours are separated are completely different. Just as Lucius and Liko’s family both have that sticky outy bit of their hair, Amethio and Gibeon both share that little white antenna although Gibeon’s is positioned differently.

So here’s my proposition: Amethio is related to Gibeon the same way Liko is related to Lucius.

Perhaps then Amethio is some distant relative to Gibeon who he located at some point- likely he didn’t have any family and so when Gibeon pulls up with his ‘oh hey we’re related’ spiel Amethio jumps at the chance for any form of connection. It’s not clear how much Amethio knows regarding Gibeon (he didn’t even know why he wanted the pendant after all) but perhaps Gibeon uses his condition as a further way of manipulating Amethio: not only does Amethio work for explorers to get Gibeon’s approval but also to find whatever he needs to not die so he won’t lose his last chance at family?

I also believe this is supported by all the Amethio-Liko parallels the show has been building up. It’s likely that Amethio’s backstory could be a dark mirror of Liko’s where the Explorers are to him what RVT is to Liko. Although, Amethio’s situation takes the ‘found family’ part more literally and instead of experiencing happiness he gets moulded into a child soldier…. yaaaay…

So then why does Gibeon actually need Amethio? Aside from the obvious meta reason, it’s likely Gibeon speculated someone with his blood could function as a Lucius detector (the pendant only stopped being dormant after amethio came into close contact) and this is also one of the reasons Amethio gets booted off the mission as he’d already performed his purpose of confirming the pendant was related to Lucius. Perhaps there’s something about Amethio’s ancestry which doesn’t apply to Gibeon that’s important? Or maybe Gibeon just put an easily exploitable child to good use.

Either way, there really isn’t a happy explanation for Amethio’s circumstances. Poor guy :(

I’ll potentially be eating my own words in a few months when we learn more about Gibeon and Amethio’s relationship but hey it never hurts to theorise. Hopefully we learn more stuff soon and that Amethio doesn’t get locked into off screen jail for another 11 weeks 💀💀

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

One small pet peeve I have about Chapter 7 is that it's making Maleficent look like "a victim." This is a personal thing but I always considered the Evil Queen to be Disney's most evil villain, but the title has Maleficent being considered "evil incarnate." And I understand, she has powers and transforms into a dragon. What a cool thing. But on several occasions I feel that content creators who partly work for Disney do not respect that she is an evil being and end up softening her character, either giving her a tragic background or making her a mother. Going back to TWST, the part that bothers me the most is right at the beginning of the chapter, when Yuu dreams about Maleficent and the only option to choose implies that they feel bad for Maleficent for not being invited. And it's like WHAT? Didn't you see that she cursed a baby? Or better yet, why didn't you feel bad for the other villains? And seeing the theories of the most recent update, with the inclusion of the senate and seeing that almost the entire fandom hates them, it makes Maleficent's descendants seem more like victims (which they partly are). Sorry, this is something personal that I wanted to share with someone. But in conclusion, no other medium outside of the original film can well portray Maleficent as the embodiment of evil that she is supposed to be. And yes, I know the Draconia family is not Maleficent but they are still related.

Disclaimer: I’m coming at this from the POV of someone who has no attachment to Maleficent as a character and is frankly confused as to why she’s the Big Bad that Disney chooses to promote as their villainous icon 🤡 so take my opinion with a grain of salt!🧂

To quickly correct something before the discussion: Malleus being a relative or a descendant of Maleficent is NOT canon. It is a popular headcanon, especially during the early days of the TWST fandom when we didn’t have a lot of lore about the Draconia family. From the way Malleus speaks about the Thorn Witch, she is considered a separate ancient entity and not someone he personally knows or has blood ties with.

Knowing that, it somewhat detracts from the points made in this ask 😅 since it seems like the Anon was trying to draw a parallel between Maleficent and Malleus… Conflating Maleficent with Malleus may be the result of mixing up the dreams with the differing mediums and presentations of Maleficent and Malleus in the context of their own works. I feel they can be treated like two entirely separate cases, and with different intentions behind them.

Maleficent has been written as a tragic antihero in the live action movie(s) of the same name. That is one interpretation of her, just as the Descendants Maleficent is much goofier in attitude. They are Disney’s properties and so they are free to twist Maleficent however they wish to suit the circumstances or to chase a modern trend of redemption, even if it’s different than the “mistress of evil” she was introduced as. In my opinion, there is nothing inherently wrong with this (although that doesn’t mean you’re obligated to enjoy or to agree with every iteration of Maleficent or the new direction she’s being led in). This doesn’t automatically make her a “victim” (for lack of a better term) either, she feels more… “girlboss” to me, if that makes sense?? Tragic things do happen to her, but they don’t define Maleficent as an individual (if I recall correctly, she acts on her own and rises up + regains power in spite of humans hating her). I think it’s just a different way to spin a story. However, I can see why maybe this doesn’t bode well to some people who like her for being evil and not for being redeemable.

Malleus is the “final boss” of a gacha game. The intention behind his design is to endear the players to the character so they’re willing to roll for him. That’s why Malleus in particular has a “special” role compared to the other boys, and why they try to establish a friendship with Yuu early on in the main story. He is treated differently in the narrative because of that. We may not necessarily like it or find the method effective, but that’s the design TWST went with. (I’m personally not a fan of this either, it grants Malleus specifically a lot of grace and favoritism that I’m not on board with 😅)

I also want to point out that when the other villains were introduced in Yuu’s dreams, it’s not really in situations that would immediately warrant sympathy. The Queen of Hearts is unreasonably mad, the King of Beasts is plotting against his brother, etc. It’s not that Yuu doesn’t “feel bad” for the others, it’s that the others didn’t give Yuu anything to “feel bad” about right away. For the dream with Maleficent, it’s different: Yuu first learns that she is “unwanted” and THEN she casts her magic. Yuu then fixates on the reason behind Maleficent’s curse (because at this point in the story, we’ve seen 6 cases of how one’s motivations and past fuel one’s actions in the present). The other villains don’t get similar scenes or lines to show off the potential reasoning behind their behaviors (no showing of how the Queen of Heart’s rule benefits her people, no jeering at Scar, etc.) so of course Yuu won’t be as gracious about them.

We should also consider that each of these dreams is prophetic and ties back to the current OB boy’s troubles. In Malleus’s case, loneliness is a huge issue and he’s been Yuu’s “friend” since book 2. These will naturally play into Yuu feeling more sympathy towards Maleficent, who resembles Malleus and is left out like he is. The other OB boys didn’t have this “special” connection, and their issues don’t center so strongly on wanting companionship. If you refer back to Yuu’s dreams of each villain, Yuu’s reactions to each reflect the ongoing dilemma of each boy and their dorm mates, such as wondering why the card soldiers don’t intervene and not understanding why Scar used the methods he did.

That being said, I’m not sure if I agree with the use of “victim” to describe the Draconias. The term’s definition varies by person (and I’m not sure what the asker’s own definition is, so there may be some disagreement here), but personally I see “victim” as a binary. It puts one person in a weak and passive position—with them being the one acted on—and the other person in a position of power—the one doing the acting. It creates an easy “us vs them” narrative. I don’t believe this is the case for any of the TWST characters; to call them “victims” implies a lack of agency to act and a clear good vs evil worldview.

Back to the Draconias. Yes, bad things have happened to them and some of those bad things were the result of the senate’s decisions. That doesn’t make the Draconias (or even Maleficent, in my opinion) “victims”, and certainly not “victims” to the senate alone. There are so many other factors to consider in Malleus being isolated and turning out the way he did. These include, but are not limited to: Maleficia being too busy to spend time with him, his parents being absent, Malleus still managing to meet and interact with Lilia anyway, Malleus himself being so powerful/high status he scares his servants and peers, royals having duties to tend to and thus limited freedoms, previously existing tensions with humans, etc.

TWST does do a lot to make you feel bad for and to pity Malleus. From the moment we first saw him, the “loneliness” of Malleus was a major part of his character. Many factors outside of his control compounded as an unfortunate situation that… wasn’t very conducive for him to grow up feeling normal and loved. It’s not that he was just now made a “victim”, it’s that we’re now getting all the context for why his character is the way it is—and it’s a whole slew of traumas and personal experiences. I would argue the same happens for all the OB boys; this isn’t something exclusive to twisted Maleficent, Malleus. TWST is trying to present these issues with more nuance than the classically evil G7 they were inspired by; the OB boys in general they aren’t defined by their “victimhood, but rather how they respond to and cope with those experiences.

[milk-ly]

Fuuta’s accusations about Es(and us) being the same as him makes me think. Because most of us have realized that he’s right, but I need to talk about the extent of it. From his point of view, he is 100% right.

We started by judging COMPLETE strangers on things they did. The fact the prisoners can hear what we’re saying about them parallels the comments you would obviously receive when cancelled. We could simply back away from punishing these random people, but we don’t. Because it’s entertaining to us. Because some of us feel morally superior. Because some of us think they “deserve it.”

Really sounds familiar.

Yet, in another way, he’s not right at all. And really, the only reason I can think of as to why is simply because the milgram characters aren’t real.

And that 4th wall barrier has so many interesting implications to me.

In a way, the fact that we see them as fictional characters add more credibility to Fuuta argument. He also didn’t see the people he bashed on twitter as real people at first. To Fuuta, they were video game bosses to defeat. Just like us, It’s hard to see them as real when we’re all behind a screen, huh? Even though MILGRAM characters aren’t exactly real, all their stories are.

Yamanaka: I do not want my characters to be perceived as two-dimensional beings. I stick to the idea that they are based on real people who happen to have a two-dimensional appearance. That's one of my rules when creating characters. […] So, even though the setting of the story in MILGRAM is a fantasy space, I wanted the characters themselves to feel like they could exist right beside you.

(This is a quote from an interview Yamanaka and Deco*27 did back in 2020)

There are tons of people in our reality like Haruka or Mikoto or Amane or Yuno, etc. there are many people with similar stories as these characters. It’s why so many people can relate to them, why so many people have more expertise on certain characters. This relatability and understanding is why we care so much about them.

Not to mention, there’s the theory that all MILGRAM characters are based on Japanese societal issues.

So exteme hypothetical example here. Lets say someone says something grossly ableist about Mikoto. That ableist comment isn’t truly only specifically towards Mikoto, the fictional character. That ableist comment also becomes directed towards those who relate to him. And the same goes for any kind of comment really.

Yamanaka: The story progresses realistically based on the presence of the audience. […] I'm currently trying to turn the audience into characters in my work.

(Translation done by Ryuuzu (omake_ryuzu on Twitter / uzuuryu on Discord) This is a quote from the Clock over ORQUESTA collab)

In a way, we ARE judging real people. Our judgements and comments do not only reach and affect the characters, but the people in our reality too.

So, that being said, are we really that different than Fuuta?

[kitkats-and-kittens]

One of my favourite things in MHA is the way society is structured to uphold powerful quirks affects the main 3 in such different ways.

Izuku is the most obvious. Being quirkless meant he was seen as inherently less capable. His own mother didn’t believe in him and of course he faced loads of bullying as consequence of his place in society.

I wouldn’t say quirk discrimination is a direct parallel to disability, because he is still able bodied, and a lot of the things he is unable to do are more because of the way society views him rather than his inherent capabilities.

I do see it as maybe a stand in for classism or something of the sort as we see how his lack of a quirk directly hinders opportunities and clearly affects his worldview in a big way throughout the series, especially how he views quirks after growing up in a world that teaches you to revere them.

Then you have the complete opposite in Shoto and the Todoroki family, who show how Society tying a persons merit/worth in direct relation to their quirk also affects those at the top. In the same way toxic masculinity means men under the patriarchy still suffer abuse under their own system as they have to conform to standards that mean sacrificing mental and physical health.

Shoto was of course born to surpass All Might, pushed and abused into a role he never wanted all because he has a strong quirk. Which then also relates to how those with flashy superpowers are upheld and pushed into hero work from birth. Which while also pushing people like Izuku further down, simultaneously traps people like Shoto in a cycle they were given no choice but to take part in.

Then of course you have Katsuki. Who is similar to Shoto in having a powerful quick but is also different because rather than being physically forced to conform under the system he represents not only how quirk society as a whole seems to manipulate and groom kids like him onto a certain path but also how someone can overcome that.

Katsuki bullied Deku for being quirkless. That much is a fact and while it isn’t shown much in the anime there’s so much subtext surrounding the shows themes as a whole that show why it happened, but in a world that actively propels children like Bakugo forward while shoving less powerful kids like Izuku downwards it was practically impossible for them to stay friends.

You can see the propaganda even if it’s just in the way hero’s are placed on pedestals as something all children should want to be, while the access to the very thing society deems important is cut off and streamlined to children with a certain type of quirk.

I mean it’s stated in the first episode that until recently quirkless kids weren’t even allowed to apply to hero schools, which just shows another way they are cut off from the resources other kids are provided.

And that’s not even touching on the variety of other factors. How aesthetics and beauty play into how people with mutant quirks are received (Miriko and Shoji) while you also have the heroic/flashy quirks Vs villainous and subtler types of power. (Izuku and Shinso)

I just love how the themes of this show are so imbedded in the world building and a lot of the show don’t tell aspects reveal a lot more about the world they live in.

[peterman-spideyparker]

Costumed (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! I think I started to write this back in July, and I didn't want to forget to get this posted like I usually do with holiday themed fics. I'm just sorry the title sucks. I hope you enjoy! :)

Summary: You're not really one for Halloween, but you love a good costume. And while you're not looking forward to doing a group costume, you find something that you just can't pass up.

Warnings: Fluff, regular Nelson and Murdock shenaniganery, mild swearing

Other Characters: Foggy Nelson and Karen Page

Word Count: 1,668

What compelled Foggy to come up with the idea that you all wear costumes to the office on Halloween is beyond you, but Matt agreeing and being pretty enthusiastic about it all confused you even more. So when Karen suggested a theme of “superheroes” with a sly smirk and Matt still agreed, you thought that Ashton Kutcher was going to jump out with a camera crew to tell you you’d been punk’d. But when none of that happened and everyone started to plan and chatter about their costumes in the main reception area, you decided that a walk around the block was exactly what you needed. 

“Oh, you’re being a bit dramatic,” Karen chuckles as you grab your jacket on the coat rack. 

“I’m not being dramatic, I’m just convinced that I’m in a parallel universe,” you say as you slide on your windbreaker. 

“Just think about it, though,” Foggy adds. “We go straight from work to Josie’s for the costume contest.”

“All this being contingent we don’t have client meetings or need to go into court,” Matt says with a little smirk. 

“I can’t believe you. Matt Murdock, of all people, wanting to have fun. Voluntarily.”

“What can I say, you’re rubbing off on me.” Taking a few steps in your direction, Matt leans in and gives you a kiss. “See?” he teasingly smirks.

You roll your eyes and grin, kissing him again. “I’ll be back soon. If you guys want me to grab coffee—.”

“Yes, please,” they all say in unison. 

“Fine, text me what you want. I’ll be back!"

With a final round of goodbyes, you leave the office and trot down the stairs and into the street. A few minutes into your walk, you find a new little costume shop open for the season. With everything in the office fresh in your mind, curiosity gets the best of you and guides you into the store. You slowly browse the shelves, looking at the different options available, some very impressive, and others in need of some extra fabric. 

“Hi, welcome in,” a salesperson greets behind some pumpkin trick or treat pails. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Maybe,” you hum, peeling your eyes away from something particularly high up. “I’ve been outvoted in doing a themed group costume.”

“What theme?”

“Superheroes.”

“Ah, a classic. Well, we’ve got plenty to choose from. Classy or sexy?”

“I’m thinking a bit of both, actually.” Turning my focus back to the wall, the sales clerk comes to your side. “Could you help me grab that one, please?”

“Ooh, nice choice!”

A few minutes later, you’re leaving the costume shop with a bag in hand, continuing your route of the coffee cart, and returning back to the quiet office, each of your friends nose-deep in work. 

“I thought I was gonna have to send Matt out looking for you,” Foggy finally says. “Where’d you go to get the coffee? Italy?”

“No, I just got a bit side-tracked along the way,” you hum, stuffing the bag into your desk drawer before going over and handing everyone their drinks. 

“What did you pick up on this side track?” Matt hums with a kiss to your cheek as he grabs his cup. 

“Something you guys will get to see in two weeks,” you hum. 

“Did you just pick up your costume?” Foggy asks excitedly, much akin to an excited golden retriever. “But you—!”

“Yes, and that’s all you’re getting, because I’m clearly nothing to win. No hints, no nothing, and no dwelling on how quickly I caved.”

“But what if we wear the same thing?”

“Trust me, Foggy, we’re not gonna have the same costume.”

“If you do, it’ll just have to be a who wore it better,” Karen grins as she sips her latte. “A little Halloween fashion show.”

“Yes!” Foggy cheers enthusiastically.

“No fashion show,” you counter.

“Yes, fashion show,” Matt grins like a cat that ate the canary.

“Goobers, all of you!” You take Matt’s face in your hands, pressing kisses to his lips. “And you’re the head goober!”

Matt smiles and kisses you once more. “I appreciate the recognition, sweetheart.”

“Alright, break it up, love birds,” Foggy teases. “We’ve got a law firm to run.”

“I don’t think that’s much of a costume,” Foggy pouts as you walk into the office. 

“You just gotta wait,” you hum as you walk around to your desk to sit down. 

“Is it a couples costume?” Karen asks. 

“No. Honestly, I don’t know what Matt’s dressing up as.”

“Well, the established plan is to wear our costumes and then go to Josie’s,” he clarifies. “So this ain’t gonna cut it.”

“I know. And this is part of my costume. Just take a deep breath, Flash.”

“No way, if I am wearing this Catwoman bodysuit all day, you’re wearing yours all day,” Karen hums. 

“Fine. You two go get coffee and bagels, my treat, and I’ll be in the Foggy and Karen approved costume by the time you get back.”

Handing them some cash, you shoo them out of the office and lock the door, working on taking off your clothes to reveal your Wonder Woman one piece underneath. You slide on the matching boots and throw on the tiara before you adjust your gauntlets and loop on your lasso of truth. 

Sitting back down at your desk, you resume your previous task of responding to emails when you hear the door unlock, the squeaky hinges opening wide. You smile and stifle a giggle when you see Matt walk in in a Superman costume—giant S on his chest and a cape and all.

“Looking good, Kansas,” you tease, leaning back in your chair. “It’s a good fit, but, part of me can’t help but think your broodiness would make you better suited for a Batman costume.”

“You—I . . .” Matt stutters with his mouth agape as he tries to figure out what your costume is. “What are you wearing, angel?”

“My costume,” you say, turning to give him your full attention from your computer. “We agreed on a superhero theme, did we not?”

“Yeah, but, this . . .”

A smile pulls across your face as you watch his cheeks flush with a deep blush. You stand up and make your way over to him, the click of the heels of your boots loud against the old hardwood. 

“Wow,” he breathes as his hands settle into your waist. “This . . . Wow.”

“You like it?” you chuckle as his hands start to trail up, his fingertips hitting your exposed shoulder blades.

“That’d be an understatement, angel.”

“I kinda hesitated about it. It was an impulse buy initially. I’m glad it’s paying off,” you hum as his hands go down over the curve of your ass before giving it a squeeze. “Maybe I should dress as a superhero every year.”

“I think that’s an excellent idea, sweetheart. It’s definitely paying off.”

“Feels good?”

“Very.” He leans in to kiss your neck slowly and repeatedly. “I don’t know how I’m gonna focus all day with you in that costume, smelling your skin like that.”

“Well, you should find a way, Murdock.” You can’t help how your eyes flutter shut and the goosebumps that spread all over your skin as he holds you flush against him. Matt knows just what buttons to press and how to press them to make you putty in his hands. “Otherwise, I’ll have to use my Lasso of Truth on you.”

“You gonna tie me up, angel?”

“You need to behave, but it’d be a bit unprofessional to do that here. We’d just have to go back to your place tonight if that’s what you’re jonesing for, though. Not like I need to return the costume or anything.”

As Matt leans in for a kiss, you lean back, taking your index finger and twirling Matt’s cowlick onto his forehead. It holds into a curl, and you lean forward to press a kiss to his freshly-shaven cheek. “There. Now you’re perfectly Superman-ed.”

“Thanks for keeping me authentic, angel,” he smiles as he leans in for a kiss. 

“Hey, whoa, you can only kiss Lois Lane!” Foggy calls as he walking into the office. “Of course you’re Superman. And damn, (Y/N), rocking the tiara and one-piece. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again—I wish I had your legs.”

“Thanks, Fog,” you say. “I’ll never not be weirded out and flattered when you say that.“

“Thanks a lot Fog for—holy shit, (Y/N)!” Karen says as she comes in, box of bagels and coffee in hand. “You look hot! I mean, you usually do, but, damn!”

“Thank you,” you chuckle. “Now that you guys know I’m committed to the costume theme, can I please put some more clothes on? It’s kinda drafty in here.”

Matt presses a kiss to your temple before going over to his office to pick up an emergency suit coat he hangs on the back of his door. 

“To keep out the draft,” he smiles softly, kissing your cheek before whispering in your ear: “And so I can hold on to you easier during the day while you wear that.”

“I’m seeing now how this plan is backfiring,” Foggy nods with an exaggerated, turtle-face pout. “It’s worth it, though, cuz we’re gonna win the costume contest! Or at least you two are. But a victory for part of Nelson, Murdock, and Page is a victory for the whole! So let's get to work, keep it in our pants, and then get that victory title. That middle part is for you two, by the by.”

“Yes, Fog, we get it, we’ll behave” Matt confirms, his hand still on your waist as he presses a kiss to your cheek. “But let the record show I’m glad we’re not having a costume ‘Who Wore it Better’ with you can (Y/N).”

“Joke’s on you, Murdock, I’d look fabulous dressed as Wonder Woman. This hair was made for a tiara.”

Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger​ @steampowerednightvaler​ @themusingsofmany @just-the-hiddles​ @toozmanykids​ @dangertoozmanykids101 @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop​ @itwasthereaminuteago​ @peter1ismybrother@hellskitchens-whore​​ @dpaccione​ @catnip987​

Matt Murdock Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters

[crowncrown]

i rewatched genloss episode three and I’m about to make it everyone’s problem

Rewatching this episode with the knowledge of what’s going to happen adds such a nuance to this that you can’t fully understand until you already know the ending. From the first 10 minutes Hetch repetitively tells Ranboo he’s still in control of the simulation. He says things like

“Just listen to me I’ve got everything under control”

“I’ve programmed them (the Showfall drones) to believe there’s no show going on right now”

“I’ve disabled your mask”

Even Ranboo acknowledges this, at one point exclaiming

“I don’t know! you’re the one in control!”

Ranboo has gotten very used to this routine. Do what you’re told. Try to succeed the best you can. And maybe less people will die in the process. But this times different. He’s given partial control. The veil over his eyes is lowered just enough where he’s seeing more than he’s ever seen before. But he has no control. Hetch is doing the same thing Showfall has been doing this whole time. Telling Ranboo exactly what to do to get the best show out of him.

As the episode goes on, Showfall alludes to the simulation being active as ever more and more. There’s still background music perfectly timed. The camera angles are still there. Hetch gives us a lazy excuse that he’s using it to watch Ranboo, but this is the same guy who said Ethan and Nikki are still alive and well.

But I think the most sinister thing this time around is that they’re not just feeding Ranboo the answer to the questions they throw at him. They’re feeding him a narrative. When he exclaims “why me?!” Hetch responds with no hesitation “There must be something special about you”

“It’s a show. There’s a script. You’re the hero” ***

(We will most definitely come back to this ;) )

The most CLEAR part that shows us that the simulation is alive, before of course, we are shown very obviously, is the lead up to the kill switch scene. The audio distortion times up with Charlie’s perfectly timed speech. It has its own music. So many different camera angles. Zooms. It’s the best camera work of the whole show. It’s so cinematic and that’s on PURPOSE. Showfall is winking at us through the production of this, almost teasing us at what’s to come very soon after. We should have caught this. We should have been screaming at the screen telling our beloved hero to run. But we were celebrating. This should have been our biggest sign that this is all wrong and there’s no way in hell this is right but we were CELEBRATING. Our hero had won right?!

Yet he knew subconsciously that it was all wrong. Why else would you bow at a camera that’s supposed to be turned off? Once again he’s blind. The veil is pulled fully over his eyes yet again and he is back to the puppet we’ve gotten to know all along.

His victory is nothing but a set up to add more to the cinematography of his death.

And it leads on to the scene that we all dread on every rewatch. The execution. Or the box as I like to call it (🙃) Remember that point I said we’d come back to? This scene has so many parallels it makes my head spin. Hetch reassures Ranboo less than 20 minutes before that:

“You were just doing what you needed to to survive”

“There must be something special about you”

Because he had to do what he had to do right? He was just a guy trying to survive? Or was he? Did our beloved hero really have to do the things he did? Did he betray us? It festers in our brains deciding if this man should live or die while Hetch fuels the fire.

“don’t you see there’s consequences to your own actions?!”

“We only pushed you in the right direction!”

“That was the real you! Ranboo!”

He parallels these phrases in a way that makes us question everything we think we know about him. And the final nail in the coffin hits us right in the decision making skills as he hammers in:

“The choices you made. That’s the real you. That’s what makes you a hero”

That’s. What makes you. A hero.

No valiant efforts. No conquests. Not even winning. No. This was never about being brave or bold. This was about being a pawn. An actor playing whatever part he’s told to play. “The hero” is a title only given to the unluckiest of fools. Believing they are making a difference while being tossed away the second they break script.

That’s what makes a hero.

[makoodles]

neteyam's reader understands me like no other just like the sex education reader being open about how na'vi are hot and we deserve to be railed by one !!

anyway love parallel of father and son being like. Please Just Ask Me I've Been Yearning hahah. no rest for that family just every generation dealing with a small human trying to sleep with other na'vi while they suffer in the background

LITERALLY ahahahahha

okay you know what i'm gonna post my snippet of the neteyam fic here

sneak peek!!

As you tend to the scratch on his shoulder, Neteyam’s head rolls back. In a move that’s almost imperceptible, his nostrils flare and he scents the air. You assume it’s the fairly astringent scent of the herbal paste you’ve just pulled out that’s bothering him, and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Problem?”

His lips quirk, though he manages to keep his expression neutral. “No. I am simply enjoying being under your tender care.”

You narrow your eyes at him. He’s mocking you now. 

The fact that he had walked in on Txetyo’s hand up your top as he groped at your tits feels like a heavy unspoken weight in between you as you dab at his minor wound. You keep waiting for him to bring it up, to laugh at you for it, but he remains stubbornly quiet as you work, his golden eyes watching you in quiet contemplation.

In fact, he’s never brought up any of the times he’s interrupted you in rather compromising positions. He’s caught you in varying levels of undress, with Na’vi men over you, under you, holding you, touching you, kissing you, but somehow just before anything good actually happened. Every time the men had scrambled away from you as though you were something diseased, mortified at being caught with a tawtute by their future Olo’eyktan, a man that (for some reason you can’t comprehend) they seem to have an awful lot of respect for.

In the beginning, you were inclined to come up with excuses for him; he was the Olo’eyktan’s son, and was inevitably going to keep track of his peers and where they disappeared off to when they had duties that they should be attending to. But now, you think he’s doing it to spite you specifically. It might be a bit of a self-centred thing to believe, but you’re almost certain of it.

You shift on your knees beside him, raising yourself up a little to ensure that you’ve covered all parts of his scrape. You don’t want him returning tomorrow to complain that you didn’t do a good job. 

You have to bite back another sigh as you do so, your thighs rubbing together in a way that sends a sharp jolt up your spine. You’re horny and needy and so, so, so resentful of the fact that you’re now treating the same man that’s the direct cause of your state right now.

Neteyam’s attitude wasn’t the only thing that changed in his time with the Metkayina, however. You have to keep your eyes fixed carefully on his bruising shoulder, because if you didn’t you know that your gaze would wander, and that’s a dangerous game to be playing in the presence of someone as perceptive as Neteyam.

But it’s difficult not to look. Time and ocean air has been kind to him; he’s grown as tall as his father, and whatever sort of training or work he had been doing with the Metkayina has resulted in broader shoulders and a more sturdy build than is typical of the Omaticaya. It’s galling to admit, and makes you feel as though you’ve eaten something sour and unpleasant, but Neteyam is hot as hell. 

He might be aggravating and smug and too cocky, but no one in their right mind could deny that he’s attractive. Not even you. Especially you, if you’re being honest with yourself, considering your penchant for enormous blue alien men that could snap you in two with a pinkie if they felt so inclined.

God, you really have to think about something else. You’re so wet that your panties are starting to get uncomfortable, so you focus determinedly on the resentment that’s still simmering over the fact that Neteyam had interrupted what was promising to be a very productive encounter with Txetyo.

Neteyam shuffles a little where he’s sitting in front of you, and your eyes track the way his muscles bunch and shift under his vibrant blue skin. Damn, but seeing Na’vi musculature up close never gets old, even if it’s Neteyam.

You’re almost finished with dabbing paste on the tiny scrape (and you hate to admit that it had taken you longer than it should have due to your distraction), when Neteyam half-turns his head towards you.

“My back is sore, also.” He murmurs, though his eyes remain downcast.

You pause, staring at him. “Okay. And?”

There’s a moment where the two of you just look expectantly at each other. When nothing comes of that, Neteyam speaks again.

“You are playing healer today, are you not?” He asks, and his left ear twitches oddly. “Or is your attention all reserved for Txetyo, hm?”

Your cheeks heat in humiliation and your jaw clenches. You knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself from making some sort of stupid comment. 

“Lay down.” You snap, prickly and embarrassed.

“Yes ma’am.” Neteyam purrs, probably all satisfied that he’s gotten under your skin. He reclines, all of those lithe muscles flexing and bunching as he rolls over onto his stomach.

You grab another pot of ointment, and then take a moment to steady yourself.

You know that he’s winding you up on purpose, just like always, but you can never figure out why. He doesn’t treat you like any of the other men in the village do – they might enjoy fucking you, but they’re rarely caught dead in public with you, worried about what it might mean for their own reputations. 

Neteyam is bolder, more confident; though the burden of responsibility that he carries is unmistakable, he never seems to get caught up with the petty whispering and musings of the village people. It’s just unfortunate that he seems so set on bothering you.

Your mouth goes dry as your eyes drop mindlessly over the expanse of his long, pretty back. His skin is stretched tight over lithe muscle, little luminescent white freckles glinting like little stars. He looks so smooth, though the flawlessness of his body is marred by thick pale scars that litter his skin, courtesy of the near legendary battle with the RDA that you hear happened off the coast of Awa’atlu.

You glance down, flustered. Fuck. It would be so much easier to hate him if he wasn’t physically perfect.

“Problem?” Neteyam’s voice is a little lower in register than it was before, perhaps because he’s lying on his stomach with his head pillowed under his crossed arms.

You twitch. Shit. You had gotten distracted, and had lost yourself staring at him.

“No. Shut up.” You blurt reflexively, dipping your fingers into the oily ointment used for easing sore muscles.

Neteyam huffs quietly, a sound that could be a grunt or a laugh, but doesn’t bother responding. It makes you feel as though you’ve lost a game you didn’t know you were playing.

[innsyn]

Writers and Dreamers needed.

Have you ever heard the term parallel collaboration?

It’s where teams, or individuals, working towards a larger goal, tackle tasks independently.

How could that work in creative writing?

Think of writers telling different stories set in the same world with overlapping characters.

Each writer has independent control of their own story, but needs to collaborate on consistency and continuity between stories.

Why are you telling me this?

Because I would love some of tumblrs many wonderful writers to join me in a parallel collaboration project of epic proportions!

I knew this was a trap! You never wanted to be my friend, you’re just trying to recruit me. Go on then, tell me more.

Okay - so it’s a totally non-profit, Creative Commons Share-A-Like endeavour. Anything anyone contributes can be taken, reworked, reimagined and recombined by everyone - as long as it’s all properly attributed, and distributed under the same licence.

It’s a sandbox which is open to everyone - the idea is to operate like fan fiction in reverse. Anyone can come and write a story using any of the characters that have been developed, and the best will be adopted into canon.

I would love to have stories of all types exist within one original story world - action, romance, horror, smut, slice of life, coming of age, hero’s quest - I want them all and more!

Why should I contribute towards your project instead of working on my own?

I would never ask anyone to bench their WIPs. I promise, I understand how personal that connection is. If you are feeling good and working well on your WIP then I am super proud of you and will cheer you on. But working on your own WIP can be hard precisely because it’s so personal, because it’s your baby.

I don’t subscribe to the archetype of the solo writer, tapping away in isolation. It helps to have people to bounce ideas off, it helps to know that other people are working towards the same goal as you, and it helps to know that you’re not shouldering all the responsibility.

I want this to be your favourite side project. Somewhere you can go and share a big dumb idea and write without pressure, whenever your WIP is kicking your ass.

But what’s it actually about?

I’ve tried to design an overarching scenario with inherent conflict, but scope to be interpreted in many directions…

Here's the idea:

An alien with godlike technology finds an Earthlike planet and its human people.

It designs a game to select a human to be given access to its technology and decide the fate of the planet.

The alien enlists its friends to select 5 human ‘team captains’, spread around the world. They each receive access to a different technology, giving them a unique superpower.

These captains then recruit a further twenty four ‘players’ each, taking it to 125 contestants, each with their own different power.

Once the teams are fully recruited - the humans still unaware where these powers are coming from, or what their purpose is - the alien talks to them. It explains they are part of a game, and what the prize is.

The game is a deathmatch. Any player who kills another player will gain their tech access/superpowers. They cannot kill their own teammates until only one team remains.

A global superpowered battle royale. 5 teams. 125 candidates. 124 of them must die.

And you want, what? Different writers to adopt the different players and tell their stories?

Exactly! I want someone to adopt the teleporter, and someone else to adopt the earthbender, or the emotion manipulator, or the one who can bring nightmares to life. I’ve outlined 125 possible characters, each with a different superpower, but I have no idea what’s going to happen or who is going to win.

Battle Royale. Hunger Games. Squid Games. Haven’t we had enough deathmatch games?

Quick answer: no!

The important differences for this idea are twofold. Normally deathmatch stories happen inside a fixed ‘arena’ - but our stories are loose in the world.

This means most of our players have to travel around the world, trying to hunt or escape from each other - giving them much more opportunity to engage in other adventures aside from trying to kill each other - or to hide from the game and try and live a normal life.

Secondly, by making the project open ended and collaborative we make the writers part of the game. Don’t want your character to get killed off? Write stories better than the ones where they get killed. The deathmatch is part of the project process just as much as it’s part of the plot.

You’re insane. This will never work.

The only way it will definitely never happen is if we never try.

Damn. You got me. Sign me up.

Alright… let’s figure out which character you want to start with…

I've still got a loads of questions though.

Come at me, let's do this!

So what are you calling this big dumb project?

Powerclash

Nice.

So... who can I tag in who might get a kick out of this?

@advashaviv @prokopetz @huttslut @whats-on-your-mind-then @fearofthefourthdimension @caxycreations @time-to-write-and-suffer @wip-nook @blind-the-winds @autism-georg @ryns-ramblings @writeblrfantasy @writeblrsupport @harleywriteshit @unmellowyellowfellow @leebrontide @melonsap @jgmartin @tananaphone @pluttskutt @careful-fear @scribbling-stardust @irlactualwizard @cryptid-s-wips @squarebracket-trick @at-thezenith @slowboz @writinglittlebeasts @lividdreamz @all-write @sergeantnarwhalwrites @tabswrites @authoralexharvey @quantumlandbooks @stanrendipity @manuscriptsatmidnight @memento-morri-writes @magic-is-something-we-create @lukascritical @liv-is @garthcelyn @fearofahumanplanet @antique-symbolism@poetinprose @thedeerwight @inflarescent @viva-la-topknot @theblackbookofarkera @nikoschrissis @sfhoe @soiledcat