#thoughts about this not meant 2 be arguing for canon
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I kind of think Philip doesn't remember Caleb consistently for same reason Luz misremembers things and we see her POV shift as an unreliable narrator. I think if Caleb was a trans woman he'd erase that in his memory of her because it doesn't really fit his narrative.
#the owl house#toh#toh spoilers#caleb clawthorne#caleb wittebane#trans caleb#caleb toh#evelyn clawthorne#evelyn toh#wittecouple#toh fanart#the owl house fanart#thoughts about this not meant 2 be arguing for canon#he misremembers Caleb's hair length and appearance post-murder and we know he's not a reliable narrator#either way it's really fucking sad
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★ THOUGHT OF CALLIN' YA, BUT YOU WON'T PICK UP / 'NOTHER FORTNIGHT LOST IN AMERICA / MOVE TO FLORIDA IOWA, BUY THE CAR YOU WANT / BUT IT WON'T START UP 'TIL YOU TOUCH, TOUCH, TOUCH ME ─── PB⁵ (part 2/2)
❪ requested -> paige and ex gf!reader that plays on iowa where theres a lot of tension on the court bc they ended on rough terms but u can see that they still care abt each other yet have to prioritize the game // hii could u write for paige x ex gf iowa!reader where they play against each other in the final four and everyone can tell theres sm tension on the court between them bc they ended on rough terms ? they still care abt each other a lot but r forced to put those feelings aside for the sake of the game (but they def had a talk afterwards) - u can make it so that iowa still won or uconn won i think either one would be interesting ! tysm ❫ part one!!!!!!!!!!!!
─ warnings | dramatic as FUCK, resolution type shit, iowa v. uconn but like i changed a bunch of stuff so it's not "canon" to real life LMAO. uhhh angst?? idk?? HAPPY ENDINGGG!!!!!!!
─ ev's notes | i just picked LA sparks cause thats the team i want paige to go to but uh it might not be realistic, also this will make sense when u finish ;)
⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!
APRIL 1, 2024
THE AIR WAS ELECTRIC in the arena as the final buzzer sounded, sealing UConn’s victory over USC in the 2024 NCAA Finals.
Confetti rained down, and the deafening roar of the crowd filled the space as the Huskies celebrated their hard-fought win. Paige Bueckers, at the center of it all, was surrounded by her teammates, hugging and shouting in excitement.
Hours later, the team was at an afterparty, the celebratory atmosphere continuing. Music blared, and laughter filled the room as the players enjoyed their victory. Paige, drink in hand, was beaming, her joy evident to everyone around her. She had worked so hard for this moment, and it was everything she had hoped for. She overcame her ACL injury and everyone who had doubted her, she'd ─ no, they'd ─ made it to the Final Four.
As Paige moved through the crowd, accepting congratulations and sharing in the excitement, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, glancing at the screen. It was a news alert about the NCAA tournament brackets.
"Iowa knocked out LSU," Paige read aloud, her brow furrowing. The notification showed that Iowa had defeated LSU in a close game, securing their spot in the next round. This meant that UConn would be playing against Iowa next, and therefore against Y/N L/N.
The realization hit Paige like a ton of bricks. She stood still for a moment, the noise and celebration around her fading into the background. She was going to have to play against you.
The same Y/N who had been such a significant part of her life (arguably was the most important part), who she had argued with and ultimately lost, who had moved on and found success elsewhere.
A mix of emotions surged through Paige — anxiety, determination, and a hint of sadness. She hadn't seen you played alongside you since your explosive breakup and your transfer to Iowa. Now, they were going to face each other on one of the biggest stages in their collegiate careers.
Nika noticed Paige's sudden change in demeanor and walked over. "Hey, what's up? You look like you've seen a ghost, we won the game, remember?" she tried to lighten the mood as she smiled.
Paige forced a smile, shaking her head slightly. "Nah, it's just... LSU lost to Iowa. We're going to have to play them next."
Nika raised an eyebrow, understanding dawning in her eyes. "Oh. Y/N."
"Yeah," Paige replied, taking a sip of her drink to steady herself. "Y/N."
Aaliyah joined them, catching the tail end of the conversation. "What about Y/N?"
Paige sighed, glancing between her friends. "We're going to play against her in the next round. Iowa knocked LSU out."
Aaliyah gave a sympathetic nod. "Oh shit. That's... that's going to be intense."
"Tell me about it," Paige muttered. She took a deep breath, trying to push aside the personal turmoil and focus on the challenge ahead. "But we have to be ready. This isn't just about me and Y/N. It's about the team. We have to win."
Nika clapped Paige on the shoulder, offering a reassuring smile. "Exactly. And we will. You've got this, P. We'll face whatever comes our way together."
It left a bitter taste in their mouth, Y/N ─ their (besides Paige, obviously) good friend and old teammate ─ now, they had to knock her out or vice versa.
Aaliyah, sensing Paige's inner turmoil, leaned in closer. "Paige, you've always been one of the strongest people we know. You can handle this. And who knows, maybe facing Y/N will bring some closure."
Paige nodded, appreciating Nika's words. "Yeah, maybe. It just feels... complicated."
Nika chimed in, her tone supportive yet firm. "It is complicated, but remember why we're here. We've worked too hard to let anything distract us now. We owe it to ourselves and to our fans to give it our all."
Paige took a deep breath, steeling herself. "You're right. This is about the team and our goal. We need to stay focused."
Aubrey, who had been quiet, suddenly spoke up. "Y/N is a great player, but so are we. We’ve got each other's backs, and that’s what matters. We’re Huskies, and we fight together."
The next day, practice was intense. The team worked tirelessly, their focus razor-sharp. Coach Geno was relentless, pushing them to their limits. Paige appreciated the rigorous drills, as they helped distract her from her thoughts about Y/N.
──
"Didn't you like, date Paige?" Gabbie spoke up as she glanced toward you, a curious expression on her face. "Like, Paige Bueckers at UConn?"
Everyone was in your hotel room, trying to recover from the afterparty last night. LSU was a hard fought win and everyone was really feeling the win, especially after the controversy from last year so obviously that meant drinks with the team.
Gabbie and Jada were on your bed, Kate had her head on your shoulder as Caitlin struggled to keep her eyes open, despite her laying upright in the chair.
Kate's head perked up at the name, looking up to gauge your expression. It'd been a while since someone (other than reporters) asked you about her, your heart skipping a beat at the mention. The only people who really knew what really happened were Caitlin and Kate, you didn't want to open up about it to anyone else.
Caitlin's eyes opened as she gave you a look. She wanted to speak up before you answered, giving her a nod.
"Yeah, uh a while back." You answered with a nervous smile, feeling the weight of everyone's attention. The room, filled with the soft sounds of recovery and idle conversation, seemed to focus in on you for a moment.
Gabbie raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Wow, that's wild. Must be kind of crazy having to play against your ex in such a big game."
Kate shifted slightly, giving you a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder. Caitlin, still half-asleep, managed a supportive smile. You appreciated their silent encouragement.
"Yeah, it can be," you admitted, trying to keep your voice steady. "But at the end of the day, it's about the game and the team. We’re all here to win."
Jada, who had been quietly listening, chimed in. "That’s a good mindset. It’s gotta be tough, but you’re been handling it really well. Better than me,"
"Thanks," you replied, feeling a bit more at ease. "I just try to focus on what I can control. And right now, that's playing my best for the team."
Caitlin's eyes fully opened now, her gaze steady on you. "And you've been killing it. We wouldn't be here without you."
"Same goes for you, Cait," you responded, grateful for her unwavering support. "We’re all in this together."
Gabbie still seemed curious but nodded, respecting the boundaries you had set. "Well, for what it's worth, I think it's pretty badass. Turning something tough into motivation like that."
"Yeah," Kate added, her voice gentle. "And besides, we’ve got your back no matter what."
The room fell back into a comfortable rhythm, the conversation shifting to lighter topics. You felt a wave of relief, glad that the subject had been handled with sensitivity by your teammates. It reminded you of why you loved this team so much ─ their understanding, their support, and their ability to focus on what truly mattered.
As the evening wore on, you found yourself thinking about the upcoming game against UConn. It was inevitable that facing Paige would stir up old emotions, but you knew you were ready. Your time with Iowa had been transformative, helping you grow not just as a player, but as a person.
You had a team that believed in you, and you believed in them. That was enough to face any challenge, even one as personal as this.
The next day at practice, the atmosphere was intense but focused. The coaches ran through plays, strategies, and drills, emphasizing teamwork and communication. You felt a renewed sense of determination, ready to give it your all.
After practice, Caitlin and Kate approached you, their expressions serious yet supportive. "You good?" Caitlin asked, her concern evident.
"Yeah," you said, nodding. "I'm ready."
Kate smiled, her eyes reflecting pride. "We’re gonna crush it. Together."
You smiled back, feeling the warmth of their support. "Yeah, we are."
──
APRIL 5, 2024
"And here we are folks, the most anticipated of the season! The NCAA Women's Basketball Championship Final Four is about to tip off, featuring the Iowa Hawkeyes against the UConn Huskies!" The commentator's voice boomed through the packed arena, the excitement palpable among the sea of fans.
The camera panned over the teams warming up on the court. The Iowa Hawkeyes, led by their star player Caitlin Clark and Y/N L/N, looked focused and determined. On the other side, the UConn Huskies, with their legendary coach Geno Auriemma and standout players like Paige Bueckers and Nika Muhl, were equally intense.
"Tonight's matchup is not just a clash of two powerhouse teams, but a story of redemption and rivalry." The commentator continued. "Y/N L/N, former UConn star, now shining with Iowa, will face off against her old team. This game has all the makings of an instant classic."
Kate stood behind you, giving your shoulders squeeze as you let out a surprised yelp. "Ow!"
Kate smiled as she put her arm around you. "You nervous?"
You laughed, shaking off the nerves. "A little bit. It's a big game."
Kate squeezed your shoulder again, this time more gently. "You've got this, Y/N. We've all got your back. Just play your game."
You nodded, taking a deep breath. "Thanks, Kate. That means a lot."
As the team huddled up for a final pep talk, Caitlin took the lead. "This is our moment. We've worked hard to get here, and now it's time to finish what we started. Play for each other, leave everything on the court, and let's bring that trophy home!"
The team roared in agreement, the energy palpable as you broke the huddle and took your positions on the court. You were guarding Paige, that was the ultimate goal for you ─ make sure she does not score.
As you walked to the court, your gazes met and your heart sank. She looked determined, her eyes sharp and focused, a mirror of your own intensity. Her blue eyes carried years of memories, both beautiful and painful. There was a time when those eyes looked at you with nothing but love. Now, they were filled with a competitive fire, and something else ─ something you couldn’t quite place.
But you also knew that you were ready. You had trained for this, prepared for this, and you were not going to let her outshine you. She looked you up and down, but she kept her lips shut as you took your position.
Paige moved quickly, weaving through your teammates with a grace that was almost mesmerizing. But you were right there with her, matching her stride for stride. Every pivot, every fake ─ you were there, anticipating her moves as if you were still in sync, like you had been during the best of times.
The whistle blew, and the game began. The crowd's cheers became a distant roar as you zeroed in on Paige. Paige moved quickly, weaving through your teammates with a grace that was almost mesmerizing. She tried to shake you off with a quick pivot, but you anticipated her move and stayed in front of her, blocking her path to the basket.
You were right there with her, matching her stride for stride. Every pivot, every fake ─ you were there, anticipating her moves as if you were still in sync, like you had been during the best of times.
Right from the start, the intensity was through the roof. UConn came out strong, with Paige leading the charge. She was as formidable as ever, hitting shots from all over the court and orchestrating the offense with precision. But Iowa matched their intensity, with Caitlin and you leading the charge.
"Clark drives to the basket... passes to L/N... she shoots... and it's good! Y/N L/N ties the game at 20!" the commentator exclaimed.
As the game progressed, the physical exertion mirrored the emotional toll. Each bump, each shove, was a reminder of the walls that had gone up between you two. You could hear the crowd, the commentators, your coach shouting instructions, but it all faded into the background.
All you could focus on was Paige, everything about her almost felt like a ghost of someone who you'd known intimately but had somehow become a stranger. The familiarity of her movements, the way she dribbled the ball, the sheer determination in her eyes ─ it all brought back memories that you had tried so hard to bury.
As the game progressed, those memories kept flooding back. Late-night talks after practice, shared laughter over inside jokes, the way her hand used to fit perfectly in yours. Each interaction on the court was laden with unspoken words, with the weight of what once was and what could never be again.
In a particularly intense moment, Paige drove to the basket, and you fouled her hard, sending her sprawling to the floor. Time seemed to slow as you reached out a hand to help her up, your eyes locking onto hers. The crowd's noise dimmed, and for a brief second, it felt like it was just the two of you.
"I'm fine," she said, brushing off your hand and getting up on her own. But her voice was softer, lacking the sharp edge it had carried since the breakup.
"Sorry," you muttered, more for everything unspoken between you than for the foul itself.
She gave a curt nod, her expression unreadable as she walked to the free-throw line. You could see the conflict in her eyes, the same one that mirrored your own. Despite the competitive fire, there was an undeniable connection that neither of you could ignore, could ever ignore.
Midway through the first half, there was a brief pause in play. Paige looked over at you, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. "You're really making this tough," she said, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips.
"Just doing my job," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. Inside, you were a whirlwind of emotions.
The first half ended with both teams neck and neck. In the locker room, Coach Blunder gave a rousing speech, but your mind was elsewhere. You couldn’t stop thinking about Paige ─ the good times, the bad, and everything in between. The harsh words exchanged during the breakup, the regret that followed, and the lingering hurt that neither of you had ever fully addressed.
Each glance, each brush of your arms, felt like an electric shock. It was more than just a battle for victory; it was a confrontation of your shared past and the emotions you had both tried to suppress.
Back on the court, the tension was palpable. "Paige on the drive... she dishes it out to the wing, but L/N intercepts! What a defensive play!" The commentator’s voice boomed, but you barely registered it, too focused on the person right in front of you.
In a brief moment when the ball was out of play, Paige walked up beside you. "You're playing good, L/N," she said, breathless but sincere. It was the first civil thing she had said to you in months.
"Thanks," you replied, your heart aching. "You too."
The final minutes of the game were a blur. With the score tied and the clock winding down, Paige had the ball. She drove towards the basket, and you were right there with her. She went up for a shot, and you blocked it, the ball flying out of bounds. The whistle blew, and UConn called a timeout.
As both teams huddled up, coach emphasized the importance of the next play. "This is it. One more stop, and we win this."
When the game resumed, UConn inbounded the ball to Paige. She glanced at you, her expression a mix of determination and something else ─ something softer. She made a move towards the basket, but you stayed with her, your eyes never leaving hers. She pulled up for a jumper, and you leapt, your hand just grazing the ball enough to alter its trajectory.
"Caitlin grabs the rebound... she sprints down the court... passes to L/N... Y/N for the win... and it's in! Iowa takes the lead with seconds to spare!"
The buzzer sounded, and the gym erupted in cheers. Your teammates rushed to embrace you, lifting you high as the reality of your victory set in. You had done it. You had faced off against one of the best ─ and your ex ─ and emerged victorious.
You felt the tears of happiness trail down your face uncontrollably as you shouted, "We did it! We actually did it!" Your voice was almost drowned out by the roar of the crowd and the jubilation of your team.
As you were carried around in celebration, your eyes searched for Paige. Despite the euphoria of the win, there was a part of you that needed to see her, to understand her reaction. You spotted her near the sidelines, her expression a mixture of disappointment and quiet acceptance.
Gently, you extricated yourself from your teammates' embrace and made your way over to her. The noise of the gym seemed to fade into the background as you approached. Paige looked up, meeting your gaze with those familiar blue eyes that had once been your world, except now they were teary eyed.
"Uh, congrats, Y/N." She sniffled, her voice steady but soft. There was a depth of emotion in her eyes, a mix of pride and sadness that tugged at your heart.
"Thanks, Paige," you replied, your voice catching slightly. "You played an amazing game. You always do."
She nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "You too. You deserved this win."
There was a moment of silence, a charged pause where the weight of your shared history hung between you. Finally, you broke the silence.
"I'm sorry," you whispered suddenly, your stomach twisting in gulit.
Paige scoffed, shaking her head. "For what? Playing your best? Don't apologize-"
"No. For having to be the one to take you guys out. I mean... you guys are my family," you felt your own tears build up in your eyes. "Were my family," you corrected quickly.
Paige's expression softened, her teary eyes locking onto yours. "We are a family, that doesn't just go away. But you have your own path to follow, Y/N. And it's okay. We all knew this day might come."
You felt a lump in your throat, struggling to find the right words. "I just... I never wanted it to end like this, with us on opposite sides."
Paige reached out, her hand finding yours and squeezing it gently and it felt like how it did, two years ago. "Life doesn't always go the way we want, but that doesn't mean what we had wasn't real or important. We grew together, and now we're growing apart. It's part of the journey."
You nodded, swallowing hard. "I just hope we can find our way back to being friends, someday."
Paige's smile was bittersweet. "Maybe. But even if we don't, know that I still care about you, and I always will. I never... I never meant what I said, I swear. I'm not angry anymore, I'm just proud."
The tears spilled over, but you managed to smile through them. "Thank you, Paige. That means more than you know."
Before you could even process it, Paige pulled you into a tight hug. She buried her face in your neck as you felt your tears flow freely, her breaths coming in hiccups. You hugged her back just as tightly, feeling the familiar warmth and comfort you had once known so well.
Her lips found your temple, pressing a kiss on to it. You squeezed her tighter, but it was a cathartic release, a letting go of all the hurt and tension that had built up over the past years.
After what felt like an eternity, Paige pulled back slightly, her eyes red and puffy but filled with a kind of peace. Before she could say it, you felt someone's hands on your back. You met the eyes of Nika, pulling her into a hug.
And soon, the seniors of your old team surrounded you, taking their own turn in hugging you and congratulating you. It was bittersweet moment, reunion tinged with the pain of separation but also the joy of shared memories and accomplishments. Each hug brought a new rush of memories, a reminder of the bond you had shared with these incredible women.
"Well, what a remarkable sight we're witnessing right now," the lead commentator said, his voice tinged with emotion. "It's not just about the victory for Iowa or the hard-fought battle for UConn. This is a moment of true sportsmanship and personal connection. You can see the genuine respect and love these players have for each other, transcending the rivalry and the outcome of the game."
His co-commentator nodded in agreement. "Absolutely. It's moments like these that remind us why we love sports. It's not just about the competition, it's about the camaraderie and the human stories behind the game. These athletes have given everything on the court, but off the court, they are still friends, still a family in many ways."
The camera panned across the court, capturing the emotional reunions and heartfelt embraces. It zoomed in on you and Paige, still holding hands and exchanging a few final words. The commentators fell silent for a moment, letting the images speak for themselves.
As you walked away, you felt a sense of closure. It wasn't the perfect resolution, but it was a step in the right direction. You turned back to your teammates, who had been watching the exchange with quiet understanding.
Kate came up to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "How are you feeling?" she asked gently.
You took a deep breath, feeling a sense of calm settle over you. "Better. Lighter, somehow."
Kate smiled and squeezed your shoulder. "Good. Now let's go celebrate!"
You laughed, the sound light and free. "Yeah, let's do that."
As you joined your teammates in the celebration, the noise and excitement of the gym washed over you. For the first time in a long while, you felt truly at peace. The future was still uncertain, but you knew you had the strength and support to face whatever came next. And that was enough.
──
"I just hope we can find our way back to being friends, someday."
"Maybe. But even if we don't, know that I still care about you, and I always will. I never... I never meant what I said, I swear. I'm not angry anymore, I'm just proud."
ESPN, APRIL 2025 Reunited Once Again | Paige Bueckers and Y/N L/N Embrace as Teammates Once Again with the LA Sparks
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↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
#paige bueckers#paige bueckers x reader#paige bueckers x oc#paige bueckers smut#paige bueckers fic#paige bueckers headcannons#uconn huskies#paige buckets#uconn#wcbb#uconn wbb#uconn wbb x reader#uconn wbb fic#wbb x reader#wbb smut#ncaa wbb#womens basketball#wbb#women's college basketball#uconn women's basketball#women's basketball#uconn women’s basketball#uconnwbb
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hold me across every state line
joel miller x reader | 3.7k words
part 2 here
cw: 18+ MINORS DNI, age gap (obviously let’s be real), AFAB reader, fingering, slight pervy joel, pet names, multiple orgasms, choking, oral fem receiving, lingerie, porn with some plot, non-canon compliant, joel has feelings <3
you had been traveling with joel and ellie ever since philadelphia and as hard as you and joel had tried to ignore whatever was going on between you two, he couldn’t help but let his gaze linger on you. you all arrive at jackson and feel like you can relax for a bit. it all comes to a head when you were changing and he caught a glimpse of fucking lingerie. joel miller feels like a teenage boy all over again just because of you.
a/n: def gotta a lil carried away, what can i say joel miller makes me FERAL. also beta version sorry i wrote this in a daze
it had been a month since you joined joel and ellie, you had grown fond of them both. your younger sister was ellie’s age before you lost her a couple years after the outbreak, it felt healing talking to her. ellie, in a lot of ways, was similar to you. unfortunately for joel that meant a lot more worrying than he admitted to. although he’d never admit it, he was quite fond of you and you were downright gone for the older man. it wasn’t like you had been single since the outbreak or before, but something about joel made your heart beat faster than ever and brought a smile to your face just from a mere thought about the grumpy man.
but you never labeled your feelings and neither did he, you both operated under a need to keep each other and ellie safe and that was it. ellie wasn’t dumb, she could see what was happening between you two. she also knew it was only a matter of time before you both gave in to whatever you were feeling. for now you three just acted out of survival instinct and that was enough. weeks morphed into months and winter was cruel to you three. you spent nights in joel’s arms, you both attributed it to feeling safer that way and for warmth of course. you never missed how sometimes you could feel his heart against your back, beating just as fast as your own. or when you would wake up before him and the sun shone down on his face, his expression would be relaxed and you could dream for a while about him looking at you like that. you hoped one day joel would let the pain he carried on his shoulders be lifted by ellie or even you.
when you all made it to jackson and joel reunited with his brother you felt like you could finally breathe again. although your body was always primed to fight and run, you couldn’t help but relax as maria treated you like a friend. she was kinder than anyone you had met since the outbreak, it all felt too good to be true. your suspicions were shared with joel and ellie. the three couldn’t relax even in the small condo tommy had given to you. maria had whisked ellie away to socialize with the other kids, saying how it would be good for her and far be it from you and joel to argue with her about it.
that left you and joel in a warm house with power and gas, feeling very out of place. the house had two rooms with two en-suite bathrooms, so naturally you and joel decided to share. joel was lying down on the bed, not fully asleep as he stared up at the ceiling planning the next steps in head. he had showered and changed into the clothes maria had dropped off, feeling like a new man. his mind raced at the possibilities of how to get ellie to the fireflies. you had spoke earlier about staying a little bit longer and collecting more information before setting out. he had disagreed, wanting to leave as soon as possible but you convinced him to stay, it would be better for ellie and especially him to spend more time with his brother and others. you also didn’t mind how relaxed joel looked when he was with his brother.
you were just getting out of the shower as you reached for a towel, drying off as you looked at the underwear maria had given you. you had blushed when you first saw it, clearly she thought you and joel were much more than friends after just a few minutes of interacting with her. you weren’t really sure why you decided to wear the lacy black panties and matching bra instead of the more sensible set, but maybe it was something about how maria had raised her eyebrow when you tried giving back the lingerie. you insisted it was nothing like that, but she had simply said, “are you sure because i think everyone else is?” instead of answering her you just snatched the clothes out of her hands and stalked back to the condo. you thought back about how you and joel interacted in front of her when you met.
“joel, say congrats.” ellie nudged joel in the elbow as you sat on the other side of him, making him move into your side slightly. joel looked to for you some sort of permission, you just nodded with a comforting smile on your face. you wanted him to know it was okay to be happy for his brother, that his brother still loved him and that his new life could have his big brother in it. joel’s hand that had been on your leg the entire dinner, squeezed your thigh in gratitude and as always you tried to swallow down the desire it shot through you. maybe you weren’t as successful as you thought in hiding the blush to you face, maybe maria had caught onto where his hand was and the reason behind your tinted cheeks.
you sighed and tried to shove the thoughts out of your mind, as you slightly opened the bathroom door and peeked through to see joel lying down with his eyes closed, a hand resting on his forehead, further obstructing his view. you took the chance to tiptoe to the closet and pick out some clothes to change into. unbeknownst to you joel had cracked his eyes upon the small creak of the floorboard and felt the air leaving his lungs at the sight of you.
joel had seen your body before, when rain made clothes cling to your skin or when you dipped into a clean river. but nothing compared to seeing your bare skin adorned in lacy black lingerie, a suggestion of fabric covered your ass and your breasts were pushed up as if to further torture him. joel felt all of his blood rush south and his heart beat pick up, he hated himself for silently peaking at you but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. he thought he was going a little bit insane when he watched you pull up a pair of jeans over your curves, jumping a little as they hugged your ass. his pants grew tight, his erection straining against the denim.
joel was on the precipice of losing his mind as you wrapped your arms around your chest and hugged yourself, your boobs pushing up and threatening his mental stability. joel had had enough at this point, his dick hard and heavy in his pants, aching to be touched. he sat up, making you flinch and wrap your arms around yourself tighter, not helping him much as you turned towards.
“how long does it take to choose a shirt sweetheart? do you need my help?” his voice was gruff and deep, you shivered at his tone noticing a clip to his voice. your heartbeat picked up as you raked over his expression, he looked more frustrated than anything else. and you didn’t miss how his eyes flicked between your chest and your eyes. it was now or never. you knew looking into brown eyes they were darkened by something you would see in your own.
“can you help me, please?” joel raised an eyebrow at your tone, like you were sure of yourself but still needed him. if joel were more confident in himself he would know that you were just as desperate for him as he was for you but he knew you could do better. you could definitely find someone younger and more suited for you. despite the rational part of his brain that knew better, he got off the bed and walked towards you. he didn’t stop until his chest was almost brushing against yours and he was towering over you. there was a slight flush to your lips and your breathing was fast enough to draw his attention to the rise and fall of your chest. he still let himself read into it, didn’t let himself dwell on the glossy look in your eyes or the way your lips were parted as if to take him in.
looking away from your gaze for a moment, joel pulled out a plain red t-shirt from the closet, meeting your gaze once again. you didn’t move to take it from his hands, just watched him expectantly and joel almost snapped the hanger in half from the hold he had on it. you wanted him to dress you. joel wasn’t sure if you were doing this to torture him or not but he sure as hell felt more desperate than he ever had. the last time he was this painfully hard from barely any stimulation was probably high school. he took your challenge instead, pulling the shirt off the hanger and flinging it to the side, he gently pulled the opening over your head, motioning for your hands to uncross and you followed quietly. you were practically drowning in the sensuality of being controlled by joel, exactly how you wanted. you had soaked through the thin fabric of your underwear as you gasped at the feeling of joel’s warm calloused hands against the soft skin of your arms. he pulled the shirt over your chest and you watched his darkened eyes travel over your body, his jaw clenching as he took in your curves.
“thank you.” you whispered, not wanting to disturb the air around you both. joel looked you up and down, as if assessing his work. he licked his lips as he remembered the sight from earlier, he felt himself leaking into his boxers, even more turned on from your small gasps and glazed eyes. you looked like a doe awaiting his shot, it drove him a little bit crazier. as much as you wanted to sink to you knees and take him into your mouth you wanted him to make the first move, wanted him to be as sure as you were that this wasn’t just one-sided. joel took one last look at your blown out pupils and glossy lips and decided that enough was enough, he had to make a decision right now.
“not sure about those pants though, doll.” your eyebrows knitted up from confusion, you looked down at them and back up at him. joel was endeared by the naivety in your expression, making good use of your confusion by looping a finger through the belt notch of your jeans and tugging you closer.
“i’d rather they were off.” he could see the words click in your pretty little head as the confusion was replaced by the desire he knew so well. you didn’t look away from his hungry gaze as you fumbled to undo the brass button of your pants. joel’s finger that was still curled into the notch, moved to cover your hand.
“let me, pretty girl.” you had to hold back a whine from his words, his gruff voice coupled with the pet name was grating against your sensibility, your underwear a complete mess from his words and presence alone. you were sure you would unravel if he touched you where you really needed him. joel undid your buckle with two fingers and pulled your pants down in one swift movement, causing you to yelp. he didn’t move as he watched you shiver from desire, he could almost laugh at how desperate you were. had you always been so gone for him? it wasn’t like he was much better though.
“j-joel please.” you choked out, you would do anything for him to touch you. you were on the verge of crying as he grinned at the pout on your lips.
“please what?” he stepped back, making a whine claw up your throat, you stepped towards without thinking.
“i need you.” joel nodded at the words, it wasn’t news to anyone, he needed you just as badly.
“come here.” joel moved to the bed, you followed obediently. when you sat down at the edge of the bed he pulled you by the hips, roughly moving you to lie down with your head on the pillows. he shifted himself to sit in front of your legs and your eyes widened as you realized what was about to happen. his rough large hands kneaded the soft flesh of your thighs, he took in the sight of your bare thighs and pretty cunt covered in lacy black material.
“did you wear these for me?” his hands were traveling up, parting your legs as they moved inwards. you loaned, back arching as you felt callouses rub your sensitive inner thighs. joel moved to sit down more comfortably, letting his thick thighs stretch you even more. he kept his hand on your left thigh, keeping you stretched wide. his other hand moved closer to your core, stopping when you didn’t answer his question.
“yes only for you.” you whined out, you had never sounded more desperate and foreign to yourself but you didn’t care you were completely lost to your desire. joel liked your answer, letting his hand tease the edge of your underwear, you twitched from his touch. he couldn’t help but scoff at how sensitive you were. he ripped a cry of his name from you when he pushed the fabric aside revealing glistening folds and a pool of liquid. he swore under his breath, wondering just how long you had been soaking through your underwear, sure enough he felt the fabric wet from your juices. joel wanted to deal this memory away, he knew he’d remember it any time his cock was in his hand. you squirmed from his gaze, whining for him to touch you, to do anything. joel snapped the band of your underwear against your skin, making you shut up.
“so fucking wet, is that all for me too?” joel didn’t think he could survive much longer without tasting you, moving to lay down between your thighs, you noticed immediately and it made you breath a little more rapidly.
“you drive me crazy joel, it’s always because of you, i’m yours.” you sat up on your elbows, looking at how his face was now hovering your hips. your words itched the part of joel’s brain that wanted you to be all his. he wasn’t proud of it but he wanted you to be his forever. without much warning, joel weaved his arms under your thighs and pulled you forwards, your cunt colliding with his nose. the small friction of his large nose against your clit made you moan out his name again. joel thought it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard, he loved how his name sounded coming out of your mouth. he wanted you to own it, wanted his name to be yours, he felt more possessive of you than ever. he rubbed his nose against your clit, breathing in the sweet smell of you, his lips and nose getting a bit wet just from your underwear. he kissed your cunt, ripping a strangled noise from your throat and he decided he wanted much more of those sounds as he pulled your underwear down, finally letting himself give in to his need to taste you. you were practically screaming his name as the cool air hit your clit.
joel didn’t waste time in spreading your legs wider and making them ache from the stretch, pulling your ass slightly into the air as he planted his lips right onto your core. his tongue licked one stripe from your clit down to where your arousal pooled. you tasted like peaches and heaven, and joel pulled you impossibly closer, he could barely breathe through his nose but it didn’t matter not when you tasted like everything he’d ever wanted and your ichor was painted on the back of his teeth. as much as he drank you in, the more you bloomed for him. you were squirming and screaming his name, begging for him to stop or keep going you weren’t sure. you could only think of his name, only feel him and only breathe him. his mustache and beard grated against your most sensitive parts, making you clench around him. joel’s tongue was inside you drinking you in like you were water and he was stuck in the desert for days. the sounds his mouth produced were obscene and they did nothing but drive you closer to your orgasm. you were rocking on his tongue, never having felt this good before. as you got closer, joel pulled out, his tongue still on your hole as his nose ground your clit. you cried at the feeling, fingers interweaving with his hair and tugging him against you. joel got the idea and brought his hand up to tease your clit as he went back to feasting on you. you felt yourself grow close, pulling his face against you, as you whined out his name. you came undone on his tongue, twitching into his mouth and joel drank in the wave of arousal it produced, never being satiated enough. finally when you were too sensitive for his tongue you tugged on his hair. joel removed his mouth with a pop and a string of your cum and his saliva connected him to you. his beard and mustache were glistening with your ichor and you felt arousal wash over you all over again, you still wanted to taste him, wanted his lips against yours and so you wove your hands around his neck and sat up to meet him halfway. joel climbed up, you wove your legs around his hips. joel’s lips were rough against you, but they tasted like you and you moaned into his lips. joel kissed you fervently as if he had not just tasted you, like it wasn’t enough and his facial hair rubbed against your skin. your cum was coating both of your faces by the time you pulled back for air. joel put more of his weight against you and you felt his clothed hard on press against your core, making you whine and grab at his shirt to pull him closer. “joel please, want you inside.”
just from what you felt pressed against you, you knew he was big and you salivated at the feeling. you were getting wet just thinking about having him inside you. joel watched your fucked out expression and puffy lips and decided against his urge to fuck you even dumber. he told himself he had time, you weren’t like the others, this was different you wouldn’t just disappear.
“next time, doll, can you come for me again?” you nodded, tears welling in your eyes as desire mixed with your need to be close to him. joel moved off of you, drawing a whimper from you, he interwove his fingers with yours, calming your nerves and you sighed contently. joel didn’t know how you could be so damn endearing and seductive at the same time. with his free hand he pushed you up the bed by your hip, until you were sitting up with your back against the bed-frame. he found his home between your legs, spreading one with his hand the other still holding yours. he used his knee to press against the inner flesh of your thigh, pinning it there and stretching you wide open. you whined at the feeling, although he was the one between your thighs you felt caged in. he was towering over your frame as your back pressed against the cold metal frame. finally when the whine left your mouth, he let go of your hand moving it south as he looked you in the eyes. his hand teased the seam of your cunt, he chuckled at the feeling of you so wet all over again. there was a bead of arousal at your opening, ready for him to please you all over again. he couldn’t get enough of you. without any warning he pressed two fingers into you, plunging them deep and feeling you clench around them. Your breath came out in a huff as you looked up to him with desperation in his eyes. joel curled his fingers facing his palm upwards as he felt for the spot that made you unravel and when he did you struggled against his grasp and pushed against his knee to close on his hands. you gasped out his name and joel laughed at the tears forming in your eyes. he plunged into your soaking cunt again and again. setting a brutal pace and just when you felt close enough he slowed down, he shut up your babbling with a harsh kiss to your mouth. it was teeth and tongues clashing against each other, but the desire and desperation you felt was reciprocated in the way he kissed you. you kissed until your lungs screamed for air and when you were about to pull away, joel plunged three fingers into, you gasped into his mouth. pulling away as your eyes rolled to the back of your head and joel littered your neck with kisses and bites. he marked you as he wanted, made sure everyone knew who you belonged to. you were gushing around his fingers, he added a fourth finger and you screamed his name. if the blooming marks on your neck weren’t enough, the whole community would hear your screams. you started begging when he abused the spot that made your mind go blank, all you could feel was intense burning desire and all you could say was “please joel.” like it was a prayer.
your prayers were answered when his thumb ground against your clit and you came on his hand. you slumped forward, joel catching you as he moved his hand from your thigh and brought his soaked fingers up to his mouth. he wanted to memorize your taste, licking his fingers clean before pressing a kiss to your lips. you let him kiss you, you were spent now and your mind numb from pleasure. joel helped you lay down and cleaned you up as much as he could, he put your underwear in his pocket, he had to deal with his hard-on after you fell asleep. joel combed his fingers through your hair, as you relaxed into the bed. you fell asleep breathing in the scent of his shampoo on the pillow-sheet and the feeling on his fingertips scraping your scalp.
#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal x reader#joel miller x y/n#pedro pascal smut#joel miller smut#joel miller imagine#tlou fanfiction#tlou joel#joel miller fanfiction
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you know what i loved about the finale?
all this talk about sylki vs lokius, and everyone fighting over betting which one will be canon-
when in the end, this show was never about romance. it was about love, but it was never about romance. it was always about loki learning to heal and to be loved, and sacrifice, and hope, and a bunch of cool sci-fi shit!! it was about him not wanting to be alone.
(but ultimately in the end, he has to be)
when loki turns to sylvie and mobius, they desperately try to open the door to stop him, because of course it's them who see him for the last time. it was always them. he says 'for you' because they were the two most important people to him this entire series.
when i went to look at people's thoughts on that scene, i just saw everyone arguing like HELL about who loki meant, hating on each other's ships, being devastated lokius wasn't canon (same, but in the good angsty way, not in the we hate the writers for doing this) etc.
guys! that wasn't the point of the scene! he loves them both, he was saying it to both of them. he didn't want to kill sylvie, and he couldn't watch mobius die again.
season 2 has exceeded season 1 for me in so many ways, but especially because of the scrapping of romance. it's been incredible to see these relationships become vague and blurry, the line between friendship and love and romance completely up to the viewers. it's been heaven for me, who ships both sylki and lokius.
anyways the finale was amazing, this show is amazing, and this season was amazing. i really really hope there's a third season or that they show up in other marvel projects IMMEDIATELY.
#loki#sylki#mobius#lokius#he loves them both so so much#mine#my ships#mobius m mobius#loki laufeyson#sylvie#fandom rant#loki finale#loki spoilers#sylvie laufeydottir#still sobbing btw#marvel#my faves#loki series#loki season 2
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What Is the Appeal of Sonadow?
I have a lot of thoughts about this ship, what draws people to it, and why some of the criticisms of it are exaggerated or less than honest. Putting them under a cut because it’s gonna get long.
First of all, the critique of “Lol why do people ship them when they beat the shit out of each other whenever they disagree on something, they’re abusive!” is dishonest framing for two reasons. One is that it ignores the fact that Sonic and Shadow are allies far more often than they’re enemies, and even when they are enemies, it’s usually over something serious, not just a minor disagreement. The other is that it’s bad media criticism to apply real human standards to a cartoon animal universe.
When you watch the classic Looney Tunes short where Bugs and Daffy are arguing over whether it’s Rabbit Season or Duck Season and Bugs tricks Daffy into shooting himself, do you see Bugs as abusive and evil? Probably not, because the laws of physics don’t apply in cartoons and Daffy getting shot in the face doesn’t actually hurt him. He’s still completely fine afterwards because he’s a cartoon and is therefore invincible. The same is true for Sonic and Shadow. Have you ever seen either of them seriously injured after one of their fights? Has either one ever needed to go to the hospital because the other beat him up so badly? No, of course not. They groan in pain for about two seconds and then they’re fine. If the creators wanted to convey them being injured, they could show bruises or blood or have bones snapping and the characters limping, but they don’t. The fights are never meant to be taken that seriously. I find this criticism every bit as annoying and overzealous as people who insist that Pinky and the Brain are abusive because Brain bops Pinky on the head. They’re cartoons, y’all. They’re not realistic, were never meant to be realistic, and shouldn’t be treated as realistic. Different standards apply.
To the second point, Sonic and Shadow don’t actually fight that often. In all the interactions they’ve had together, it’s only been a handful of times. They’re allies in the Archie comics, Sonic ‘06, the canon ending of Shadow the Hedgehog (they’re only enemies in that game if the player wants them to be), Sonic Forces, Team Sonic Racing, The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog, and most of the IDW comics, along with the endings of Sonic X, Sonic Adventure 2, and Sonic Heroes. They’re allies for much of Prime as well. But hey, let’s break down the times they do fight:
Sonic Adventure 2: Shadow’s memories have been tampered with and he and Sonic are literally fighting over the fate of the world.
Sonic X: Same thing for season 2, and in season 3, they’re fighting over whether Cosmo should live or die. Sonic says killing her is wrong, Shadow says stopping the Metarex is what’s most important and if that means little Cosmo has to die, well, them’s the breaks, pal.
Sonic Prime: Sonic has broken their world, Shadow is trying desperately to save it, and Sonic is valuing the Shatterverse inhabitants over Green Hill.
IDW: Shadow says Eggman is too dangerous to leave alive and if that means Mr. Tinker has to die too, well, them’s the breaks, pal. Sonic says killing anyone is wrong no matter the reason.
You see a pattern here? Most of the time what they fight over is literally life and death. They’re not going at each other’s throats over petty bullshit like who gets the last slice of pizza or who gets to pick the film for Movie Night. They fight over serious moral differences. I would argue that Amy and Knuckles have gotten angry at Sonic for way less than what Shadow does.
Now, there are a few instances where their fights are stupid, namely Sonic Boom and Sonic Heroes. But I think it’s pretty universally agreed that Shadow is out of character in Boom, and honestly, all of the fights in Sonic Heroes are very forced. There was no reason for Team Dark or Team Rose to fight Team Chaotix; their goals don’t contradict each other in any way and it’s clearly just manufactured conflict to give the player another boss fight. And these are the exception; most of their fights are over serious ideological divides.
Those serious ideological divides are exactly what makes Sonadow so interesting. I personally prefer ships where characters can learn and grow from each other, where their differences can clash until they learn to reconcile them. I don’t find a ship like, say, Sonamy nearly as interesting because I don’t think there’s many (if any) moral stances Sonic would have that Amy wouldn’t. They already agree on the important things. I’m not bashing anyone who likes that ship; if that’s your thing, good for you. It just doesn’t appeal to me because I think Sonic and Amy already having a lot in common morally means they can’t really grow and change from interacting with each other in the same way.
Sonic can bring out the best in Shadow, teach him to trust others and lighten up and learn how to live in the moment rather than being tethered to the past. Shadow can teach Sonic how to think before he acts, to view the world more realistically, and to consider the impact that his insistence on moral purity will have on others. That setup makes for some amazing stories.
Also? These guys love fighting each other. They’re both athletes and very competitive. Look at how much they smile when they fight:
Like…they love this. It’s so much fun for them. Sonic and Shadow are both competitive athletes who love pushing themselves, but in terms of speed, no one is any competition for them except each other. No one else can beat either of them in a race. Imagine spending your whole life winning so easily that there was no accomplishment in it, and then suddenly this guy comes along who’s actually as good as you or maybe even better. Finally you have a challenge and can really enjoy the feeling of being the best. That’d be amazing. They give each other something no one else can, and to me, that’s what good romances are made of.
And all of that is combined with the fact that Sonadow offers an Odd Couple setup, which is always fertile ground for fun, comedic situations that require opposite characters to work together. Plus the Enemies/Rivals to Lovers aspect, which adds a bit of “forbidden fruit” to the mix because we all know that the most tempting and appealing relationships are the ones that are Forbidden (TM). That’s literally the premise of Romeo and Juliet, people who aren’t supposed to be together but end up wanting to be anyway.
I wouldn’t want Sonadow to be canon, but I definitely enjoy exploring it in fandom. It’s a fun ship that offers a lot for a writer or artist to work with. And while I would never force it on anyone, I wish the criticisms of it weren’t quite so shallow and disingenuous.
#it’s possible I missed a few bits because I haven’t played all the games#if so I’m sorry#it’s just not financially feasible to play all of them ya know#sonadow#sonic the hegehog#shadow the hedgehog#sonic prime#sa2#sa2b#sonic games#shipping dynamics#sonic heroes
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I’ve seen lots of conversation on here about Zutara shippers opinions on aang and mai and i thought I’d give my point of view.
I want to start by saying that I think there should be more of a distinction between disliking a character because they are a bad person and disliking a character because they are written badly. With that being said, I can confidently say that, with the material of the main ATLA show, I dislike Aang and Mai because they are badly written characters. Meaning, if their arcs were properly finished, I would have no problems with them. This brings me to another topic of how I don’t really ‘hate’ characters who are bad people if they’re well written but that’s a conversation for another post.
I need to point out that I didn’t start disliking Aang and Mai until they had their arcs undermined when Kataang and Maiko became canon. With the arcs they were going on, they had so much potential to be really interesting and I enjoyed their personalities.
When it comes to Aang, I had no problem with him as a character until season 3 part 2 when I started to realize that his world view (which is flawed based solely on the fact that he is young and there is no way he’s going to have a nuanced pov) was not going to be challenged. Aang should have had to give up katara. Aang should not have just had everything handed to him with the lion turtle and the pointy rock.
Then there’s the southern raiders which I would argue, if Aang’s arc had been completed, would not illicit as many conversations and arguments about it as it currently has. Because his actions in that episode make sense (Sokkas don’t really but again-that’s another story) because he’s a kid. This episode should have been a big decider of his change in worldview. The problem is that the creators decided his flaws didn’t exist and that he was perfect. (At 12 years old?!?!?)
Then there’s Mai. She’s a much smaller character but that doesn’t mean she deserves less of an arc. Mai is a character whose personality I love! (I’m all for gloomy depressed women!) There’s two ways Mai’s character could have developed, and I think both options are great, the problem is that Bryke decided to go in neither direction.
On the one hand, Mai could have been a representation of unlearning the propaganda she was taught in the fire nation throughout her whole life. I think this direction would make Maiko more believable, although I still don’t think they are a good couple because their personalities create a toxic dynamic and Mai’s story with Zuko is meant to represent that toxicity.
The second option would be to have her views not change, like we see in the show, and have her not get back together with Zuko. This is the more interesting path in my opinion because it’s more realistic. I don’t think the problem with Mai’s arc lies with her personal views of the fire nation, more so with her relationship with Zuko. As we have it in the show, Mai’s views don’t change. Therefor, it doesn’t make sense for her character or for Zuko’s for them to get back together like nothing ever happened.
When it comes down to it. Both Aang and Mai had their arcs sabotaged because the creators rejected Zutara. Even without Zuko and Katara getting together these were the wrong decisions. Both characters had potential to be well written, but in the end, the creators chose the path didn’t allow that to happen because they just couldn’t kill their darling. (Kataang)
Sorry for rambling, this is kind of just my take on the whole “Zutara shippers hate Aang and Mai” take.
#is this a meta?#atla#avatar the last airbender#anti aang#anti Mai#anti kataang#anti maiko#anti bryke#zutara#ayo fuck bryke all my homies hate bryke#atla critical#aang critical#Mai critical
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OMG hi…I really like your art and was wondering if you wanna be mutuals??????????? Also tell me about your MD ships :3c
honey we are dating- .....okay yknow what- HI PRETTY & TALENTED LADY- yess i will absolutely love toooo 🙈💕💕💕💕💕
also lets see uhhh okay this is an excuse for me to just... expload-
keep in mind not every ship is meant for all of you so dont badger me about stuff that ISNT CANON or YOU DONT SHIP. contrary to whatever you believe, when somone posts about THEIR ships, nobody wants to hear about you NOT shipping it on THAT EXACT post.
hang in there, this gon be a long one >:p
First off we are starting strong with Nuzi- Biscuitbites obviously thats a given- these two just have too much to be said about why and how they make eachother the best version of eachother, whether they ever became canon or not- they fit like puzzle pieces- they lessen eachothers negative traits by being their for eachother.
next is Vuzi- Violentviolet, they are my favorite kind of enemies to lovers 😔 but its also tragic smh. kinda pissed off at how V always does something good in Uzis favor only when she is LITERALLY PASSED OUT- either in the camp ep on the bus or in Alices lab. like damn ofFUCKINGcourse Uzi wouldnt know she cares about her 😭😭😭
envuzi- Violentbitingbiscuits, i love these goobers with all my heart- they deserve the best 😔💕💕💕💕
envy - [does this poor ship just NOT have an exclusive FINDABLE tag name??? im calling them GoldenMemories...], i like to think that if they were in the manor still, and nothing bad had ever happened, these two would be comforting eachother in the healthiest way possible. V needs someone like N and N is just adorable like that uwu
Next we have JxTessa/Jessa- [calling them Fancyblades cuz why not-] J deserves some closure for the shit shes gone through smhhh 😔, its a tragic yuri of J loving and wanting something she probably already accepted she couldnt have, and even then she gotta deal with Ns ass being the favorite one regardless of how hard she tries to be perfect... sighhh i wanna imagine them in a future where Tessa was spared as the only human and J could save her 😭😭😭😭 Tessa might have loved doing mechanical stuff or wore black to hide grease/oil stains on her clothes from her parents and wore gloves to hide her oily stained hands- i want her to have a scene of wiring drones back to life and saving them and saying something like "hey there, you made it! dont worry, ill take care of you, youre my friend now :3" or something //dies//, also before anyone says it- even if Tessa was a teen in the flashbacks- romance is not exclusive to ADULTS, teens can love eachother without having sexual stuff involved. no she was not their MOTHER figure, she was their FRIEND who liked to fix robots for herself to not be alone in a house where her own parents literally chain her up as punishment. i dont even know why im arguing about this, people headcanon or make aus about characters NOT being dead all the time and if Tessa was alive for as long as J thought she was, Tessa would have been a perfectly fine adult either way. so counting this, yes shes canonically considered an adult when Cyn tries to imitate an adult humans body 🙄 makes as much sense as everything else i guess-
next ones i got is NorixYeva/Neva- Solverlilies- i just think theyre neat 😭😭😭 and once again, like everything else in this franchise- they are tragic yuris 😔 damn liam im finding a pattern over here 🤨 anyway, i like to think they either got closer in the lab experimentations or were already close when they were working as WDs in the campsite area for the humans. obviously canonically they were probably straight or just not into eachother romantically- [Nori either u have the worst taste men or Khan just fucking lost it after you died-] but also on the other handddd.... they have 2 hands and they are robots, i want them to kiss like two barbie dolls and im gonna make them do just that-
DollxLizzy/Dizzy- Bloodypink, wost fucking ship names ever, i cant find shit on them with these tags and it makes me angry >:/ at this point 2/3s of my ships are just tragic yuris smh, Doll did not deserve any of the things handed to her, even if she went about doing some things the wrong way i wish Lizzy didnt just abandon her- but then again, Doll did kinda abuse Lizzys trust and Lizzy got scared of being close to a serial murderer so.... morality calls this a draw? 😭 im crying... i wish someone was there to help Doll... sigh... i like to think Lizzy would have waited for Doll to just come back at some point... oh well, thats why AUs exist :"3 //sobs in the corner//
DollxUzi/Dollzi- Bloodybats, this ship is so underrated to me... they could have been... so much more. but why weren't they? did Yeva abandon ever getting close to Uzi when she was a kid after Nori died? did Uzi and Doll just never play around together as kids when their mothers were so close? were they ever close and something went wrong as they grew older? at worst they could have been like sisters together, and at best maybe more than friends. i just dont know what happened here, like Yeva could have tried to keep an eye on Uzi, maybe Uzi could have found Dolls powers so cool before having them too- i dont know theres literally tons of possibilities- but if Doll deserved to be saved or cared for by anyone, at least one of them should have been Uzi... sigh.
ThadxV- Killingblonde, yall this is... the cutest shit... ever???? like from here on out we kinda go into the more or less crackship territory but these two are adorable- Dumbass yet wholesome jock boy that just wants to keep his queen happy 😔👌👌👌 He and Uzi would have so much to talk about on "crushing on literal murder bots that stabbed and almost ate us" its literally love at first stab smhhh 😫💕
ThadxSam- Smokyjock ???? for some fucking reason??? i dont know what my brain did here man- i just like the trope of someone getting under Thads skin- like pair up the healthy sports loving gym boy with the lazy but wholesome dumbass that does drugs or is always just sleep deprived and Thad is always trying to just... take care of his ass and make him take care of himself but he just WONT SMHHH-
okay some more or less crack ships down here:
ThadxN: it speaks for itself. its too adorable and youll go blind from the light of wholesomeness-
ThadxNxUzi: Uzi will die here from the overwhelming wholesomeness... oh bonus if its just a 4s polycule of ThadxNxUzixV i mean i know im pushing my luck but.... random crackships go brr- V and Uzi will complain but love their dumbass golden puppy partners-
ThadxUzi: i think they could have been close and Thad caring about her as a childhood friend turned crush sounds just too cute for me 😔
LizzyxUzi: another random ass rivals to lovers or some shit idk what this is, Lizzy would pay Uzi to kiss the fuck out of her i dont make the rules-
ThadxLizzy: in some cases where they are NOT headcanoned as siblings or cousins, i think they have a good energy of wholesome jock bf and girly queen cheerleader lol, Thad is just a good bf eitherway-
DollxUzixLizzy: the gals would not leave a single second of silence for the small gremlin i swear to God- [Uzi is gay as FUCK for her gfs, absolute girloser unit with her gorgeous but crazy gfs]
okay for the end i have some characters that arent ships but i wish they could have become closer as friends or work out their issues...
J and N- too much abuse and toxicity here, i wish they could talk together more and see they have a lot of things in common- maybe a full line of dialogue from J without threatning N in every sense of the manner would be nice for a change =_=
Doll and V- again, a bit morally ambiguous to ship a character with the murderer of your family, esp when said murderer hasnt expressed regret lmao, but i wish they could at least be friends... Dolls disdain for the murder drones pushed her to end up the way she did. maybe if she didnt do it alone she would have been alive by now. so i like to think what would have happened if she and V could have made up- not necessarily Doll forgiving her- but at least having the space to grow and understand why they did they things that happened.
Cyn and literally ANYONE- i want the solver to be SEPARATE from Cyn- i wish Cyn would have still existed somewhere down there and was savable- i wish this poor child AI had a happy ending to her by connecting with the others as ACTUAL siblings... goddamnit 😔
aaaand thats it for this fine ass day 🫡 yall are welcome to ask about any of these- boy the tags are gonna be.... a lot.
#snow rambles#murder drones#uzi doorman#tessa james elliot#nuzi#biscuitbites#vuzi#violetviolence#envuzi#violentbitingbiscuits#jessa#j x tessa#envy murder drones#envy#n x v#solverlilies#bloodypink#dollzi#bloodybats#dizzy murder drones#killingblonde
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Okay making my own long post so that I can get out all my thoughts clearly
So to start off 1. I think that queer baiting is a completely useless term, in part because all it is used for is arguing whether or not something is queer enough (in part because queerbaiting is an incredibly rare phenomenon in western media), 2. I think that the way male queerness is treated in Deadpool is unfortunate, and 3. Gay people are allowed to find joy in goofy movies and it isn't that serious.
**this is all my opinion, a lot of these topics are up to personal interpretation just like with any other movies or media discussion (I am trying to also cover multiple perspectives here, but I am only one person)
Let's get one thing clear right off the bat, no one who is familiar with marvel and disney actually thought that Deadpool and Wolverine were going to kiss/fuck nasty/become an item. (Those were jokes guys.) Those of us who were hoping for queerness were hoping for some subtext at most or the Deadpool-typical type jokes where he smacks a guy's ass, makes a quippy comment and moves on. And within that context of expectation, we were given way more than we expected.
Now, I will say that it is absolutely sad that we can have these movies with gay jokes, but that actually portraying queer characters seems to be too much for them. As is typical (to my knowledge) of bigger movies, they were allowed to make a side lesbian couple (this is a much larger topic, but for the purposes of this conversation, let me add on: cishet men think lesbians are hot + women are not considered to be able to have "real" relationships without men. So they can get greenlit a bit easier.), but Deadpool is not allowed to have meaningful connections to other men.
Deadpool's jokes about gayness can be interpreted in different ways. To some people, they feel hurtful and deriding. To others, they are the jokes made by a man who is comfortable in his identity, and who makes jokes to take power away from people who may want to use his queerness against him. It's really hard to argue this one way or the other, since Deadpool isn't a real person who we can ask to clarify. As such, how one feels about these jokes usually sits within the context of how they view Deadpool and the movies in general. Personally, I think that these jokes are meant to shock audiences, but I don't think they are actually intended to be hurtful. Especially when the funny part of most of the jokes is when he is making them, not that it's gay. Like, straight or gay, it's funny to talk about sex in a really emotional/tense moment, or in the middle of a fight. Particularly when you see how he treats the other queer people around him, not to mention, you know, the fact that he's canonically pansexual. (Frankly I find it kinda weird to go "aah there's a queer man making jokes about being a queer man!! How terrible!!" but that's my prerogative)
From movie 2 to 3 there does seem to be a change in how queerness is being treated. A positive change, in my opinion. Because Deadpool isn't making all that many jokes in this one, he's got a few for sure (Wolverine has one or two as well!!) but a lot of what he's doing is becoming genuinely close to Wolverine. This shifts the dynamic, now it's not just Deadpool making gay jokes or advances to people who don't really reciprocate (to my memory, though I feel like Colossus may have flirted back at like the end of Deadpool 2?), instead the jokes are being reciprocated/responded to and the characters are being put on even ground. Wolverine is a realized character, just like Deadpool, so they are able to grow closer over the course of the movie, and form an actual connection and bond. (Also a lot of the gay jokes become "wow isn't wolverine so hot?" jokes)
Important to also add that yes, they do start the movie with a very fraught and tense relationship, they are both very violent characters, Wolverine has crazy anger issues, and Deadpool makes everything a joke. All of these things are important to their characters and story! If you took some of those early interactions out of context you could argue that Wolverine isn't reciprocating or something of the like, but that would require ignoring the majority of the film. They are kinda crazy and impervious characters who have opposite personalities in a high stakes setting, of course they are going to fight and try to harm one another.
As much as it's already been talked to death, it is genuinely important to discuss the metaphors in this movie. Because as funny as the Honda jokes are, that scene is heavily implied to be a sex scene. This is the art of film, what you cannot show the viewer, you must convey some other way. The fight happens to You're The One That I Want, they repeatedly stab intimate places (stabbing as metaphor for penetration), the way they position themselves in the car and through themselves at each other, and the camera panning towards the bumper as the car shakes (a classic fade to black sex move). This is all movie language, and it is vital to understanding what a movie is portraying.
The climax is also very important in this regard, because as camp as it is, they were willing to die for each other and in that willingness they were able to save each other. Like A Prayer is playing, they are holding hands, when Wolverine's shirt explodes Deadpool takes a moment to oggle him despite the fact that they're both getting absolutely electrocuted or whatever.
Now, despite all of this absolutely beautiful subtext, Deadpool and Wolverine do not get together. That is absolutely an important part of this conversation, their relationship is ultimately left ambiguous. But a queer man being in a homoerotic ambiguous relationship with another man, does not a queer bait make.
Vanessa is an important part of this discussion of course - though to preface this, I find their relationship really boring so I don't really remember a lot of what happened between them in the first movie. Deadpool is canonically pansexual, so his relationship with any woman does not make him any less queer. Though, it could be argued that she's been kept around as a character to make sure he's always in or longing for a straight relationship.
Some people have been arguing that the movie ends with Deadpool getting back together with her, which blatantly does not happen. They were in a weird stage of exes being friends at the start of the movie, where she was in a new relationship, and he was still pining. All he does at the end of the movie is go over to her to let her know he cares about her, which could be romantic or platonic - but IS NOT them getting together. And again - even if he still is in love with her by the end of the movie, he is still queer.
In addition, I don't think that Deadpool is monogamous. He's constantly flirting and showing interest in many different people. Now I don't remember if he ever has a conversation with Vanessa about monogamy, so I could be missing an important part of their dynamic. But as it stands to my knowledge, Deadpool being in love with Vanessa doesn't mean he's not in love with Wolverine.
Both of these potential relationships end in the air. And of the two (if we assume monogamy is important) Vanessa said she had a boyfriend, and Wolverine just moved into Deadpool's apartment. So Wolverine is in a much better position to end up with Deadpool than Vanessa is.
It's also good to note that everything we got in this movie was fought tooth and nail for by Ryan Reynolds and the movie's team. There is every chance that Deadpool and Wolverine's relationship would not be implied but rather outright in a world where studio opinions don't matter.
Everything that I've just described is not queerbaiting. A movie with queer people in it canonically, is not queerbaiting. Queerbaiting is when media sells a character/relationship as queer in order to get an audience and then tells that audience that they are not actually queer (usually done incredibly insultingly, think Sherlock). Marvel and Disney do not need to market towards queer people to get an audience, in fact marketing towards queer people is more likely to lose fans, and gain hate. It's also important to note that the marketing hasn't been marketing these two as queer, they aren't almost kissing in material, the cover is a friendship charm, the most they do is address the fact that Wolverine/Hugh Jackman is hot af. So it literally isn't queerbaiting.
Now, whether or not someone is disappointed in the level of queerness is completely up to the individual! Everyone is welcome to their opinions and feelings about the movie, disappointed or delighted. But a movie is not queerbaiting just because you are disappointed.
#fae talks#deadpool queerbait#deadpool and wolverine#poolverine#deadpool and wolverine spoilers#deadpool#wolverine#media analysis
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Attempting to get to where we were, I got an incredibly unlikely success on the Rhetoric check. I think this scene is also really good so consider this a little bonus.
RHETORIC [Heroic: Success] - The question you mean to ask is both very complicated and incredibly simple...
"If the whole theory we're meant to believe is completely unfalsifiable..."
"If we can't even agree whether communism is about plasm or psychology or beans..."
"If we can't escape the doom that's coming..."
STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - The young man waits patiently for you to finish.
"... and the rest of world conspires to invade and massacre us when we dare to stand up for our beliefs..."
"... and whenever we *do* try it just devolves into a corrupt farce..."
"... and we waste all our time arguing over who's secretly a liberal or not..."
STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "Yes?"
VOLITION [Easy: Success] - Say it.
"..what's the point?"
STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - The young man considers your words for a minute.
COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - You're witnessing his ironic armour melt before you. This is his *true self* you're seeing now.
EMPATHY [Formidable: Failure] - There's something going on in there, but his innermost sanctum is still beyond your reach...
STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "The theorists Puncher and Wattmann -- not infra-materialists, but theorists nonetheless -- say that communism is a secular version of Perikarnassian theology, that it replaces faith in the divine with faith in humanity's future..."
"I have to say, I've never *entirely* understood what they mean, but I think maybe the answer is in there, somewhere."
"Wait, you're saying communism is some kind of religion?"
"But what if you don't believe there *is* a future?"
"But what if humanity keeps letting us down?"
STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "Only in this very specific sense. Communism doesn't dangle any promises of eternal bliss or reward. The only promise it offers is that the future can be better than the past, if we're willing to work and fight and die for it."
2. "But what if humanity keeps letting us down?"
STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "Nobody said fulfilling the proletariat's historic role would be easy." A tight smile. "It demands great faith with no promise of tangible reward. But that doesn't mean we can simply give up."
"Even when they ignore us?"
"Even when they laugh at us?"
"Even when they shoot at us?"
STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "Especially then."
ECHO MAKER - "And of course, we'll be shooting right back."
VOLITION [Easy: Success] - So young. So *unbearably* young...
HALF LIGHT [Medium: Success] - Why do you see the two of them with their backs against a bullet-pocked wall, all of a sudden?
INLAND EMPIRE [Easy: Success] - Their faces, blurred yet frozen as though in ambrotype. You were never *that young*, were you?
STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "I guess you could say we believe it *because it's impossible*." He looks at the scattered matchboxes on the ground. "It's our way of saying we refuse to accept that the world has to remain... like this..."
"Broken."
"Unfinished."
Say nothing.
STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "Yes, that's a good way to think of it, broken, but not irreparable."
"It's a nice thought."
"I don't know if I believe it, though."
STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "You've got to believe in *something*. Otherwise, what are you doing?"
EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - His words aren't really directed at you. He's wrestling with himself now...
ECHO MAKER - "Steban, it's getting pretty late."
Ok, that's the end of that diatribe. Rejoin me for the canonical version of events shortly.
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[2]
EXCUSE ME I only got to the first panel and had to scream
HELLO! YUKITO AND TOUYA HELLO!! PEAK COUPLE SPOTTED. EXCITEMENT MAXIMUM.
But I suppose I should actually read the page too.
UPDATE. IT IS EVEN MORE WILD THAN BEFORE SOMEHOW.
WHAT DO I EVEN DO WITH THIS?!
Where do we even start.
Yuuko’s talking about the Jam Jar and explains that it was “entrusted to me by the flesh and blood relations of the two of them.”
And the [two of them] seems to be referring to Lava Lamp’s parents, judging by the rest of the page (unless there are even MORE Syaorans and Sakuras floating around but I'm not even considering that yet). But immediately PULL THE BREAK. PULL EVERY BREAK. LET’S STOP RIGHT HERE.
The panel that mentions the “blood relations” of [the two of them] shows Touya and Yukito from behind. Touya and Yukito specifically in regular, modern clothes.
And I completely lose it.
BECAUSE LIKE
THAT IS 100% THEIR CARDCAPTOR SAKURA VERSIONS IS IT NOT?!
AND LIKE OK.
OK OK OK
We’ve done this dance before.
Lava Lamp’s backstory was FULL of references that seemed to imply (on purpose) that Cardcaptor Sakura was the origin of his parents, with JUST enough small inconsistencies to show that that’s PROBABLY not actually who they are, YET THEY CONTINUED to tease it as the real answer.
And EVEN HERE they're doing it again.
They show us a Touya and Yukito who 1 to 1 look like their Cardcaptor Sakura counterparts, in modern clothing - but FROM BEHIND, to add a little bit of doubt. The story is lining up all the pieces so that once again it looks like CCS Touya and Yukito gave Yuuko the Jam Jar - and that it's potentially CCS Sakura and Syaoran in the Jam Jar, who have never met Yuuko, but still turned back time, even if it meant “distancing themselves from their own children”.
AND THEY EVEN SHOW YOU THEM, SAKURA AND SYAORAN as Lava Lamp’s parents BUT FROM A DISTANCE, SO YOU CAN’T POSSIBLY TELL FOR SURE EXACTLY IF THEY’RE WHO YOU THINK THEY ARE OR NOT.
MORE - THEY SHOW US THE MAGIC CIRCLES. Sakura stands on Syaoran’s magic circle and Syaoran stands on CARDCAPTOR SAKURA’S MAGIC CIRCLE. And even though people argue with me over this I will stand by the fact that we have canonically only seen this magic circle for Cardcaptor Sakura at this point in the story. It is her UNIQUE magic circle she created on her own. That’s the only place we have seen it.
And, yes! From a wider universe perspective it’s possible that Sakura’s Unique Magic Circle is Actually Not Unique and Other Sakura’s Also Have The Same Magic Circle, but we don’t know that yet. We've seen Xing Huo, for example, using the Reed magic circle. Which could be for many many reasons, but on the simplest level it's an example of Another Sakura using a magic circle that is Not the one implied to be unique to Cardcaptor Sakura.
And do I think Lava Lamp's mother is Cardcaptor Sakura? No!
But what we do know is that Clamp are having the TIME OF THEIR LIVES showing us glimpses of symbols and characters KNOWING That it all points directly towards Cardcaptor Sakura
EVEN THOUGH IT COULDN’T REALISTICALLY BE HER. But with enough doubt in place for the thoughts of "OR COULD IT?" to be just as valid at this point.
EVERY PIECE OF THIS IS ON PURPOSE AND I AM GOING RABID OVER IT.
AND JUST. Even though I know it’s most likely not actually them, is just genuinely so much fun to see them that I don’t even mind.
Lie to me Clamp! Lead me to the wrong conclusion! I will have a fantastic time even if I don’t actually believe you.
Also I am absolutely not receiving any comments that clarify who they are at this time thank you.
#You all already know this it's always a 10/10 experience#But just in case: Don’t tell me who anyone is#No-one at all#Don’t tell me anything about magic circles either#I don’t want to know I WANT TO SUFFER#Liveblogging the reservoir chronicle#Tsubasa#Vol 216#Yuuko Ichihara#AND WHO ELSE DO I TAG HERE#IT COULD ALL BE LIES#Mysterious Lava Lamp Family Figures#Who Suspiciously all have non-visible faces#AND AGAIN#They have no reason to hide the identity of Lava Lamp’s parents#UNLESS WE WOULD RECOGNISE THEM#WE WOULD KNOW IF IT WAS A CSS CHARACTER OR A TSUBASA CHARACTER#IF THEY ZOOMED IN TOO MUCH#SO HERE WE ARE - WATCHING FROM 100 FEET AWAY#Also you know who else has powers connected to Time?#CARDCAPTOR SAKURA THAT'S WHO
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OUR LIFE BEGINNINGS AND ALWAYS // SPOILERS FOR THE DLCS IN STEP 2 for both Cove and Derek!
In which two friends like their other best friend.
COVE / DEREK X READER (head cannons might make a oneshot 🤞🤞)
— reaction
Cove is kinda confused, he never really expected Derek to like you in that way, he never really got any signs (Derek was trying to hide it) but he wouldn’t be upset or anything. You’re all friends in the end, besides Derek was being considerate trying to hide his feelings for everyone else’s sake.
Chalks it up to “Well who wouldn’t like MC?”
(Final warning for Derek dlc spoilers!!)
Derek has always been aware of Coves crush since it’s super obvious to everyone. In his DLC if you tell him you thought he was cute he admits his first impression of you was that you are cute too! So I think after he hangs out with you and Cove for the first time he realizes early on that Cove already likes you so he’d just try to act like nothing but the more you hang out the harder ignoring his feelings get. Derek’s reaction to Cove finding that out that he likes you would be worried cause he doesn’t want to make anything weird. Cove wouldn’t throw their friendship away just cause he’s got a crush on you. Derek would go down a spiral of “what if Cove hates me.” “What if they both never speak to me again.” So just make sure he knows you’re not going to ghost him over this😭
more in cut!!
Extra hcs for u!!🫶🫶
How would people figure out both derek and cove like you?
ft — Mr Holden, Moms, Elizabeth, Lee, Kyra! In that order!!
Derek was over for lunch with everyone and at the table it was just too obvious. They knew Cove liked you but they hadn’t really payed mind to how Derek acted until then. Cove still would have been completely oblivious to it. At home Mr. Holden would say something like “so, you have competition huh sport?” with zero context and wouldn’t further explain when coves all lost. Cliff decides not to break it to him💀Maybee if it comes up sometime he’d give cove advice like in the soirée DLC where he makes him to bring you a flower! He’d always be up to help out cove but cove would be too embarrassed to ask😭
For the moms they’d just tease you how they do with cove and they’d also just mess with Derek in the same manner. Probably not around Cove so he wouldn’t catch on😭 when they’re feeling out of pocket they’ll say something to you both like “I wonder what has him all nervous” once derek is out the room and just laugh while shushing eachother.
Elizabeth canonically knows and she doesn’t care who hears her when she says things lmfaoo
it’s not super regular she hangs out with you since she does her own thing but I feel like she’d be down to gossip about it all the time like. “ELIZABETH GUESS WHAT-” and that’s literally the only time she lets you in her room without arguing about knocking or telling you you’re being annoying 😭
Lee knows every detail she’s so invested lowkey she’d instigate just a little but nothing comes out of it because it’s Cove and Derek. You can’t leave this girl in a room with one of them because she’ll say somethingg 😓
“Hey Cove, didn’t derek ditch soccer’s practice to hang out with [MC]? It’s so unusual of him huh? To willingly SKIP a day to hang out with them..”
“Not really? I think it’s nice, he needs breaks once in a while.”
And then when Lee gets Derek alone for like 5 minutes;
“Hey Derek- do you think [MC] and Cove are cute?”
“Huh? Oh- well yeah [MC] is has the prettiest eyes and they’re so cool and funny and amazing- Coves a awesome guy too but I’m not interested like that ya know?”
“I meant cute.. like together. ”
“Oh. ”
Kyra time!! She’s the bestt
She noticed your little love triangle in that one trip to the mall while she was spying on all of you. The little drink share?? Derek blushing when you snuck up on him and Cove too freaked out to let you drink his smoothie?? She almost got caught by cove when he heard her laugh but he just wrote it off as him hearing things.
She TRIES to help Cove take you places because he drags you to the beach every other day 😭 like “Hey babyyy, you’re not hanging out with [MC] today?”
“Not today, they’re out helping Derek with his brothers today.”
“Oh alright, maybe tomorrow? I can take you two out some place? Maybe the tropical place again.”
“yeah I guess? I’ll ask them if they can later! Thanks mom.”
#cove x reader#cove holden#derek suarez#our life beginnings & always#cove holden x reader#derek suarez x reader#cliff holden#kyra preece#elizabeth last#our life x reader#our life beginnings and always#our life b&a#ourlifeb&axreader#gb patch games#ol:ba#cove x mc
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Is Mitsuki Bakugou Abusive?
youtube
I mean, you all already know my answer. I've spoken about this before. But some Bakugou stans feel the need to turn everyone who doesn't worship the ground Bakugou walks on into the devil, so let's talk about it.
(Yes, I just got into an argument with one of said stans. Yes, I'm salty about it)
The conclusions people draw from this scene are so interesting. Bakugou stans are of course always up in arms about it. But as we know, they have zero media literacy. So let's examine the facts:
1. Mitsuki is smiling the first time she "hits" Bakugou. Her demeanor is playful if anything, and it's clear her intention is not to hurt him. She isn't even angry at or scolding him.
2. Bakugou's immediate response is anger. He isn't afraid or in pain. He's not afraid to stand up to her. Now, I don't mean to generalize abuse victims, but I'm assuming a child who's "beaten regularly" (this particular stan's exact words, despite there being zero evidence for it) usually wouldn't boldly threaten to kill their abusive parent. In his mind, she isn't a legitimate threat to his safety, or else he wouldn't feel so comfortable speaking to her like that.
3. It's only when Bakugou literally threatens her with violence that Mitsuki gets harsh with him. And understandably so. My mother has never hurt me in my life and I wouldn't dare speak to her that way no matter how angry I was. There is a little more force put into this snack, but even then it's not meant to actually hurt him. It's also interesting that none of his stans feel it necessary to criticize Bakugou's threat and immediately harp on her response to it.
4. He continues arguing with her after the hit. So the smack didn't seem to deter him at all. Almost like he's completely unfazed by the thought of her hitting him again.
5. Aizawa and All Might don't speak up about it at all. If Aizawa is really such a protective teacher, you think he'd let so-called abuse go on in front of his face?
6. Masaru isn't afraid to speak up against her. People assume that he rolls over and lets Mitsuki abuse Bakugou, but clearly he doesn't if he's fine intervening when he feels either one of them is out of line. He's calm, but he clearly isn't as passive as the fandom makes him out to be.
7. Mitsuki actually shows concern for him and wants him to improve. She's actively supporting him and believing in him. It's so funny how this part of this scene is completely overlooked. Almost like Bakugou stans cherry pick whichever aspects of her fit their narrative.
Now, am I saying that there's zero chance a parent like Mitsuki is abusive? No, of course not. But Bakugou is fictional. What we're being shown is meant to be the entire picture. Anything past what we've been given is purely fanon. Mitsuki "regularly abusing and beating" Bakugou isn't canon and cannot be used to defend his character
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I Wanna Fade Away with You - Dick Grayson Imagine [HBO's Titans]
Title: I Wanna Fade Away with You
Pairing: Dick Grayson X Reader
Based On: De Selby (Pt. 2)
Word Count: 2,948 words
Warning(s): mentions of arguments
Summary: (Y/n) and Dick's connection was one to be envied. By friends and family and anyone who had known them. This connection is good until it seems to be turning Dick into someone different. Now, the biggest question is whether or not that change is bad.
Author's Note: My favorite part of the Titans canon to fuck around with is the reason why and when Dick left Gotham in the first place.
Also, I'm seemingly falling back into my Shadow & Bone fixation, so that's the inspiration for the reader's powers here.
UNREAL UNEARTH - HOZIER WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST
---------------------
To say that (Y/n) was the embodiment of darkness felt both entirely unfair and entirely accurate.
In reality, (Y/n) was awkward. They rambled and made crappy jokes. But they were smart and kind and there was clearly something hidden under the surface of all of that. Something darker than the rest of who they were.
The first time Dick met (Y/n) was at an event for Wayne Enterprises.
It was some formal event that neither he nor Bruce were actually interested in, but it was insisted that they go through with it. It was done for appearances. An event meant to show off how well Bruce had done raising a child and how well the company was doing.
Dick was willing to play that role for the night.
(Y/n) was there out of curiosity.
They had heard a few rumors and theories about the billionaire. Due to certain circumstances, they wanted to see if there was any merit to them.
So far, they couldn't actually tell.
It was crowded. People were chatting and giggling. It felt... strange. Fake. Maybe that was a natural consequence of an event being full of the rich and those desperate to be rich. Forced politeness to get in the good graces of those around them.
(Y/n) wasn't sure how long it took for them to get overwhelmed and need to step outside. It felt like hours. Granted, it didn't truly matter. They found themself outside no matter how long it had taken to get there.
Dick saw them leave.
What was originally a desperate escape from the crowd looked incredibly different to him. What he saw was someone tucked away quietly in the corner before they seemingly disappeared into some other part of the house.
He followed them out of the room, curious about what exactly (Y/n) was planning.
He found (Y/n) standing in an empty room, staring out the window at the night sky.
"What are you doing," Dick asked.
(Y/n) jumped. "God, what the hell? How do you take silent steps?"
"You're the one sneaking around someone else's house," he replied.
"I'm not sneaking anywhere," they muttered. "There's just... a lot of people here. I thought that I could handle it and I was wrong, so I stepped out to calm down a bit."
(Y/n) had no reason to tell this man their entire life story, but at the time, it didn't feel like there was much of a better option.
"You're also just waltzing around someone's house," they argued.
"Well, considering I was adopted by the man who owns this house, I think the rules are a bit different," the man chuckled at them.
"Oh," (Y/n) mumbled.
"I'm Dick," he held out a hand to them. "Dick Grayson."
"(Y/n)... (Y/l/n)," they shook his hand. "Sorry about... this."
"It's alright," he shrugged. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," they nodded. "I'll just go..."
Dick smirked a bit as they walked around him. "It was nice to meet you, (Y/n)."
"You too, Dick."
They closed their eyes as they walked out. They were incredibly embarrassed about the entire exchange.
All they could do was hope that they would never have to see him again.
That was the day that the universe decided to play a very nasty trick.
Instead of never seeing each other again, the two kept seeing each other everywhere.
It was strange. They would each be going about their days and then seemed to find themselves meeting again and again. At the store or just walking around the city. Even if they didn't speak, they seemed to always find each other's eye.
At first, it was a coincidence. After a while, it was clear that each one of them was looking for the other.
The two of them became friends over time.
It felt as if they had known each other forever. That was the best to explain why they became so close, and their little habits held on so tight for so long. It was ages of meetings in private, hiding from the world.
There was this strange understanding between them. No questions asked, but no secrets truly kept. They were close. They could talk openly with each other, even if they didn't know every detail about each other.
For the first time in ages, both of them felt truly known by another person with no expectations attached to it.
They only arranged to meet up at night. It was the only time that they each could find their way to each other unless it was an accident. Dick could find his way out of work sometimes and (Y/n) only felt truly safe when it was late.
Dick never questioned it. He never felt a need to.
Until he found (Y/n) late one night.
He had been a bit late. Sneaking out of the manor was as difficult as people would imagine. When your guardian is Batman and sees you as a tool that needs to be ready to work at all times, freedom isn't always a given.
To put it simply, Bruce had caught onto Dick's late-night rendezvous, and he was not a fan.
Dick had finally made it to where the pair had agreed to meet and found (Y/n) twirling something around their hand. His eyebrows furrowed. He couldn't quite make out what it was until he got a bit closer.
It was some kind of black... gas? Goo? He couldn't tell. He just knew that they were clearly controlling it and it wasn't something natural.
"What the hell?" he muttered.
(Y/n) jumped at the sound of his voice. They scrambled to their feet, forcing the black material to dissipate as they did.
"What was that?"
"What are you talking about," (Y/n) asked. They didn't have much of a choice other than blatantly deny the existence of what Dick had seen.
"That... stuff."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"(Y/n)... we've known each other a little too long for you to be able to lie to me."
There was no response. Just a stubborn silence. One that attempted to deny what had occurred.
"What are you," Dick asked.
"I'm just a person," (Y/n) insisted. "I'm not some creature or monster or alien or whatever you think I might be. I am just a person."
"No, you aren't," he crossed his arms over his chest. "You're different. You are clearly more than just a normal person. I saw the... stuff that you were controlling!"
(Y/n) closed their eyes for a moment as they took a deep breath. "It's not stuff. It's... shadows... darkness. For lack of a better term, anyway."
Dick's eyebrows furrowed.
"For as long as I can remember, I've been able to use it. Twist it, manipulate it. I can hide with it, shape it into a weapon. It listens to me. Respects me as I respect it. Shared understanding."
Dick slowly nodded. He tried to imagine the darkness as a sentient being. Something with a heartbeat and a mind all its own. It was a strange thought but one that he could grow to accept soon enough.
"So," (Y/n) said, "I've told you who I am. Now, you tell me who you are."
"What?"
"You think I didn't find it strange how you would sometimes have to cancel our meetings last minute, how you seem to work out every single day like you're training for the Olympics, how you show up with random bruises and cuts all the time?"
It was Dick's turn to pause. His eyes scanned over (Y/n), seemingly impressed by their observations.
"Well?"
He took a breath. Fair was fair. "I'm Robin."
"Robin?" (Y/n) replied. "Like Batman's little sidekick?"
"Yes."
"And that would make Batman... Bruce."
"Yes."
"I knew it!" they shouted. Dick's eyebrows furrowed. "I mean... just about Bruce, not about you. Bruce being Batman was why I was at that party to begin with, but I never suspected you for some reason. How long were you going to hide that one, Grayson?"
"I... I don't know." he was hoping that the topic would never come up.
"Look at us... both freaks in our own rights," (Y/n) chuckled.
Dick nodded. "I guess so."
There was a pause before (Y/n) spoke up again, "I like it."
A smile crossed Dick's face. "Me too."
Their night continued on like it normally would. Quiet conversations while they sat together. Except that there was something different this time. They had a better, deeper understanding of each other. And it was perfect. All secrets spoken; all weights lifted.
Well, not all secrets.
No, there would be one more secret sitting between them until the very end of that night.
(Y/n) had just muttered about having to get home. They were brushing off the back of their pants as Dick stood up to join them.
"Now that we know our little secrets, maybe we can make it easier to meet up," they suggested. "Might be nice to be inside for once."
"Maybe," Dick muttered. He found his eyes jumping around the features of their face again. He was usually good at hiding his feelings, but now... it almost felt wrong. "(Y/n)..."
"I don't know how much Bruce would like me-"
"(Y/n)."
"I do keep stealing his sidekick from him, but I think it'd be weird if he got all that territorial over you-"
"(Y/n)!"
"Why do you keep interrupting me," (Y/n) asked.
Dick scoffed. "You did it first."
"I did not- wait... okay, maybe I did," they murmured. "What were you saying?"
"I...," he reached forward and took their hands in his. "I was going to ask if I could kiss you."
There was a distinct shift in the air. A tension forming between them that neither one of them felt like they could break. It was quiet. Still. The night moved around them more than they did.
"(Y/n)-"
"Yes."
Another silence.
This one was much shorter. It only lasted as long as it took for Dick's mind to process the word and act on it.
He leaned forward and kissed them gently. It was careful, slow. More romantic than anything either one of them had experienced before. Neither one of them wanted to pull away.
(Y/n) felt the darkness crawling up their spine as their guard began to fall. Dick made them feel so safe that they were losing their grip on the very thing they had been able to control since they were a child.
They pulled away, feeling the shadows retreat as they did.
"I'll see you around, Grayson."
"You too."
The pair continued meeting up.
It was different now. There was something about being able to hold hands or kiss during their meetings that made it feel like the very world underneath them had shifted.
Dick was sneaking out more than ever before.
He felt drawn to (Y/n). Almost constantly. As if it was an impulse for him to be around them. To touch them and speak to them and know them.
It was a desire that he couldn't remember experiencing before then... and one that he never wanted to get rid of.
They kept their meetings private for the longest time.
Bruce knew that they were together, but he never truly knew how close they were. He had still not seen (Y/n) since that party at the manor. It was strange to watch. Dick changed so much in what felt like days... and Bruce barely knew the cause. It was new. And he wasn't exactly a fan of it.
However, he kept quiet for the most part.
After all, Dick may have been missing some training here and there and sneaking out when he probably didn't need it, but he wasn't getting distracted on the job. He was still Robin. (Y/n) hadn't truly stopped Dick from keeping a hold of his priorities.
Until they did.
Dick had been sent off to do some surveillance for Bruce. He was hidden away on some rooftop. He didn't truly pay attention to what building he had been perched on.
And then, (Y/n) found their way to the roof.
"Dick," they asked in a whisper.
Dick jumped a bit, having been caught up in the watch. His fault for not being more aware of his surroundings. He stood up, turning to face them.
"What are you doing here?"
"What are you doing here?" Dick countered.
"I live here."
Oh. He was on (Y/n)'s apartment building.
"So..."
"I'm on surveillance."
"I see," they nodded. "Bored?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Could keep you company," they shrugged, walking toward him.
"No, no, that's not safe," Dick shook his head. "I'm not going to risk you getting hurt. You should head back inside."
"Do you truly believe that I wouldn't be able to protect myself," they asked. They waved a hand upward, letting a cloud of darkness surround both of them. "There... perfectly safe."
"(Y/n)..."
(Y/n) stepped forward as their name fell from his lips. There was little room between them. It was a surprise that they couldn't hear each other's heartbeats.
"You're distracting me," Dick muttered.
"Am I," (Y/n) asked. "That's very rude of me, isn't it?"
"Very," he nodded.
"How will I ever make it up to you?"
He chuckled, shaking his head as he looked down.
"No ideas?" (Y/n) leaned forward, finding Dick's eyes again. "I have one."
"And what is that?"
(Y/n) leaned forward a little more and pressed their lips to his. He grinned into the kiss, reaching out to touch their sides.
The kiss was short-lived. A matter of moments before (Y/n) pulled away again.
The darkness shielding them fell away. Just as it did, there was a crash from where Dick had been watching earlier.
"Good luck, Robin," (Y/n) said before turning around and taking off toward the other side of the roof.
Dick let out a sigh before going back to work.
After that night, "distraction" would be a word that Dick commonly heard associated with (Y/n)'s name. They would become a bit of a common visitor when he was out on patrol.
Bruce wasn't a fan of Dick being dragged away from his training and work and responsibilities. He saw (Y/n) as an interference more than anything else. He tried to explain this to Dick, but it would usually crumble into some kind of argument.
Dick refused to tell (Y/n) about the number of arguments they had inspired in the Wayne Manor. He wanted this thing that they had to remain perfect. He didn't want to lose it or taint it. It was the only escape that he truly had. Why would he ruin it?
However, some things could only be hidden for so long.
He barely saw his boiling point coming. He barely recognized that he was reaching the end of his rope until he was looking at the missing ground below him.
Bruce's constant comments and arguments about (Y/n) wasn't the only thing that pushed Dick to leave. It was merely the final straw after far too long.
Dick knew that the choice he made was going to lead into the unknown, but he didn't need to know.
He would rather be lost in the darkness with (Y/n) than stay in the light alone.
He had his bag thrown over his shoulder as he moved. Everything movement was powered by anger.
He barely remembered the trip from the manor to (Y/n)'s window. He was just happy that he made it. He knocked on the window as if it was the most casual thing in the world.
"Dick," (Y/n) questioned as he crawled through the now-open window. "What are you doing here? How did you know which window was mine?"
"I wanna leave," he explained quickly, largely ignoring the second question. "Gotham, Bruce, Robin, all of it. I wanna leave it all behind."
(Y/n) took a deep breath. "Okay, slow down. Explain what's going on."
"Bruce and I aren't getting along. We're arguing all the time and I am so tired of having to prove that I care about this work. I never wanted this! The only thing that I've ever really wanted was you!
"I want to leave. I don't want to be here anymore. I don't care where we go or what we do, as long as we're together and we're anywhere other than Gotham."
(Y/n) took a moment to truly take in Dick's appearance. His face was red. His breathing was heavy. He had clearly been trying to get here as fast as possible.
"Dick," (Y/n) stepped forward. "How long have you been thinking about this?"
"Leaving? Years. Leaving with you? The night that you showed me your gift."
(Y/n) felt a smile growing on their face. They thought of what could happen. Coming home to find Dick waiting there. Not having to stay in a constant state of worry that he had gone out and gotten himself hurt. The possibility of not always needing to hide who they were. Being able to share it with another person.
It was a nice thought. Being loved so freely.
"Please," Dick mumbled, reaching out to grab (Y/n)'s hands. "Come with me."
(Y/n) smiled. "I'd like that."
"Really?"
(Y/n) nodded. "Yes!"
Dick let a smile break out over his face before leaning forward and pressing his lips to theirs. (Y/n) laughed lightly against his lips as they kissed him back.
It was a perfect moment.
As the two stood by (Y/n)'s window, a cloud of darkness seemed to climb up the lengths of their bodies. It covered them, hiding them from the intrusive world outside the window.
And both of them seemed to decide that spending forever in the dark was worth it if they got to spend that time together.
---------------------
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Familiar Chapter 2
Word Count: 7.9k
Warnings: little bit of canon typical violence
A/N: This story was originally meant to be a one shot. But then I decided, "You know what? I'm not really happy with this ending. I'll just write one more little chapter to wrap things up." 🙄 Well guess what? If you've been following my work, you know that things always turn out longer than expected. So my 'little' wrap up chapter ended up being kind of long and had to be brought to a stopping point. So here's chapter 2 for you, and you can expect a third chapter as well! That will definitely be the last chapter though (she says with way less confidence than she would like).
Thanks to everyone who has liked, commented on, or reblogged the first chapter! I'm completely blown away by how many notes it's gotten. If you missed the first chapter, read it here!
Summary: Y/N comes back from a walk one day only to realize she can't remember where she was or what she was doing. The new case she and the boys were working must be abandoned in order to recover her memory.
Masterlist
Two months had passed since the shapeshifter hunt, and despite Sam’s encouragement, I still hadn’t said anything to Dean. He was making it extremely difficult for me to ignore my feelings for the older brother the way I always used to. Between his constant pointed looks and making up excuses to leave us alone together, I was about ready to snap.
My dreams about Dean were becoming more frequent too. With thoughts of him almost always on the forefront of my mind, he regularly featured in my dreams. I still had dreams like the one the shapeshifter had taunted me with, but these dreams had branched out into more sweet versions of Dean that left me longing for him even more.
I woke up from one such dream – one where Dean and I were in our very own house, snuggled up together on the couch, a movie playing in the background as we talked – in the back of the Impala. I looked around and saw that we were still on the interstate. We were on our way to Nebraska to check out a new case Sam had found. Four teenagers had shown up dead, all apparently drowned, but their bodies nowhere near water.
“How much further is it?” I asked.
“About 20 miles,” Dean answered.
I sighed and leaned my head against the window. Sam met my eyes in the rearview mirror and raised an eyebrow in question. I just shook my head. He glanced at Dean and back at me, smiling at the small frown on my face this gesture caused. He was getting annoyingly good at figuring out when I had been dreaming about his brother.
By the time we got to a motel, I was irritated and in need of some time away from both brothers. I told them I was going to walk to the diner we saw about 10 blocks away and bring home food for everybody. It would give me time to clear my head. I really needed to find time to talk to Sam about stopping all the teasing and trying to be supportive. Even though it wasn’t his intention, it was only making things worse.
~~~~~
“There you are!” Dean’s relieved voice greeted me as soon as I walked in the door.
“Seriously, Y/N, what took you so long?” Sam chimed in. “We were getting worried. I think Dean was about ready to start a search party.”
“Sorry,” I apologized, not sure why they were so worked up. “I haven’t been gone that long.”
“It shouldn’t have taken you an hour and a half,” Dean argued. “Where’s the food?” He added almost as an afterthought.
“What food?”
“The whole reason you left was to get food,” Sam told me. “What have you been doing?”
“Nothing,” I answered. Then I thought about it. What had I been doing? I was certain I hadn’t been gone for very long, but then, I realized that all I could remember was the walk back to the motel. “Just walking I guess? I don’t actually remember.”
“How can you not remember?” Dean asked.
“I don’t know!” I yelled, frustrated and confused.
“Ok, well what do you remember?” Sam asked.
“I remember… waking up in the Impala on the drive here. I guess I kind of remember getting to the motel. Other than that… I’ve got nothing.”
“Come here,” Dean said, gesturing for me to walk over to him.
“Why?” I wondered.
“Just come here.”
I walked over to him and he immediately began feeling around my head.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Looking for a lump or some other injury,” he said, continuing his search.
“I think I’d know if I hit my head,” I told him, backing out of his reach.
“Apparently you’ve lost your memory. How are you supposed to know what happened?”
“If I’d been hit on the head hard enough for it to affect my memory, don’t you think I’d have a horrible headache at the very least?” I reasoned.
“Point taken. But clearly something happened. We need to figure out what.”
“Let’s just all head towards the diner,” Sam suggested. “We still need to eat, and maybe something on the way will jog Y/N’s memory.”
Nobody had any better ideas and he was right, we did still need to eat. So we went outside and started walking towards the diner. We’d made it six blocks when Sam stopped us. This particular part of town was the area where commercial buildings started being replaced by residential. There were multiple small businesses scattered throughout the neighborhood. Some buildings were obviously both people’s place of work and their home.
“Do you think you might have gone in there?” He asked, pointing at the music store across the street. Through the window I could see guitars spaced out on the wall, a row of pianos under them. I loved the piano. I grew up taking lessons and badly missed being able to play. It was an easy, surefire way for me to calm down and clear my head, a fact both brothers were aware of.
“You did seem stressed when you left,” Dean agreed. “I’d actually be surprised if you didn’t go in. And that would explain why you were gone for so long.”
“Maybe, but it doesn’t explain my memory loss. Think about it. An hour and a half, just gone. What are the odds of me forgetting such a specific chunk of time? Someone had to have done this to me. We need to find out who. And why.”
“I agree. Which is why I think we should go in,” Dean said. “If we’re going to find answers, we need to retrace your steps. We have nothing else to go off of.”
We crossed the street and Sam led the way inside. A little bell above the door announced our arrival. I scanned the room, looking for anything familiar but coming up empty. I walked over to the line of pianos, lightly running my hand along the tops of each one I passed. I stopped at the fourth one in line. A blur of memories raced through my head, but nothing that would help solve my current memory loss problem.
This piano was very similar to the one I grew up playing. I remembered the hours spent on it, favorite songs learned and played enough times to become annoying to my family. The very same songs forgotten about when they became too easy and a new favorite came along. I placed my hands on the keys and played a few chords.
“Anything?” Dean asked. I just shook my head.
“Oh! You’re back!” Exclaimed a balding man who appeared out of the back room. He was probably in his early 50s and had a very friendly, cheerful demeanor. “You decided to buy this lovely instrument after all?”
“Uh, no. Unfortunately I have nowhere to keep a piano. No, I was just… passing by again and couldn’t resist,” I told him.
“Well, if circumstances ever change, I’d love to help you out!” He said.
I thanked him and placed my hands back on the keys, playing the opening notes to an old favorite song.
“Have you had a lot of business today?” I heard Sam ask.
“No, it’s been pretty slow today. But then, Mondays usually are,” the man answered easily.
“I figured it must be a slow day when you recognized Y/N so quickly,” Sam said, subtly fishing for information.
“Well she was the only one in the store at the time, but even if there had been 20 other people around, she plays so beautifully I could hardly have missed her.”
The conversation ended there. Or at least, I think it did. I lost myself in the song I was playing, and all other noise faded away. Once finished, I turned around to face the three men. The owner of the store was looking at me with the appreciation of a fellow musician. Sam looked impressed as he always did when he heard me play. Dean… I couldn’t quite read the look on his face. The closest word I could come up with to describe it is awe. But I knew that wasn’t right.
The store owner glanced at his watch and regretfully informed us it was closing time. He thanked us for coming in and I thanked him for letting me play. The three of us exited the store and started walking in the direction of the diner again.
We stopped in a couple more stores we passed that I might have gone into in an effort to destress. A small little used bookstore that was absolutely packed from wall to wall with books and an antique store, the kind that always reminded me of my history loving father and the countless stores he took me to growing up. Neither of these places sparked any memories either though, and as far as we could tell, I hadn’t stopped inside earlier.
“Well we have some explanation for where you were at least,” Sam said when we’d been seated at the diner.
“Yeah, but we still have no idea what happened to me. How are we supposed to get my memory back when we don’t even know where to start?”
“I don’t know yet. But we’ll figure it out. We always do,” Sam assured me. This wasn’t much of a comfort to me at the moment, and Dean seemed to realize that.
“We’re going to figure it out, Y/N. I promise. I’d never let anything happen to you. You’re our priority right now. Everything else gets dropped until we figure this out. You’re our new case. Have we ever not solved a case?” He asked.
I smiled, feeling more confident with my situation. He was right. There was nothing we couldn’t solve when we worked together.
“What’s our next step, then?” I asked.
“I have no idea,” Dean admitted.
“Our next step is going to the motel and getting some sleep,” Sam answered. “It’s getting late and we have no leads. Our best bet is to sleep on it and get a fresh start tomorrow. And who knows? Maybe we’ll get lucky and your memories will be back in the morning.”
I didn’t really want to wait. I wanted to solve this now. But I knew Sam was right. We had nowhere to start, and being low on sleep wouldn’t help anybody, so I grudgingly agreed to this plan of action.
~~~~~
When I woke up the next morning, I kept my eyes closed and just laid there for a minute, working up the energy to actually get up. I heard the deep, even breathing of a sleeping person coming from the direction of the beds and the occasional shuffling of paper or clacking of a keyboard from the other side of the room.
I rolled over so I wasn’t facing the back of the couch and was greeted by a rare sight when I opened my eyes. The unmistakable sounds of research I’d heard were coming not from Sam as I’d assumed, but Dean, up before his brother, the notorious early riser.
“What time is it?” I asked as I sat up. He looked up at me.
“Oh, hey,” he greeted. “It’s… almost seven.”
“And Sam’s still sleeping?” I asked around a yawn. Dean still picked up on the disbelief in my voice.
“I know, right? Lazy ass. Of all days to sleep in.”
I chuckled at his annoyed teasing and went to the bathroom to start getting ready for the day. When I stepped back into the room, dressed and teeth brushed, I saw Sam up and rifling through his duffle.
“Hey,” he said. “I don’t suppose you remember anything?”
“Unfortunately, no,” I sighed.
“Ok. Well I guess we should go get some breakfast and discuss next steps.”
“No need,” Dean interjected. “I already came up with our next step while you two were catching up on your beauty sleep.”
“You did?” I asked, surprised.
“What do you think I’ve been doing?” He answered. Before he could continue, Sam interrupted.
“How long have you been up?”
“I don’t know. Couple hours.” He took a drink from a to go cup of coffee that I hadn’t even noticed he had.
Sam glanced at me, the look on his face one that he reserved for times he wanted to say ‘You two are so meant to be together’ but couldn’t say it out loud because Dean was in the room. He had said it to me on more than one occasion when Dean wasn’t around, which is how I know what the look translated to.
“Anyway,” Dean continued. He picked up a phone book that was laying open beside him. “I found this psychic in town that should be able to help us. I figured we’d stop by her place after breakfast.”
“A psychic? I don’t know, Dean.” The thought made me nervous. Most of the people who advertised themselves as psychics were phonies. And even if this one wasn’t – which I didn’t know how Dean could be sure of – what if she wasn’t able to help? What if she saw something I didn’t want her to see? I’m a pretty private person, and the thought of someone digging around in my head is incredibly unappealing.
“Hear me out,” he insisted. “I’ve done my research, ok? She’s the real deal.”
“How can you be sure?” Sam asked.
“Because. I’ve done my research,” Dean repeated. “Look,” he said, spinning the laptop to face us. It was open to a website for The Amazing Annabelle. “There are dozens of reviews on here, and every one of them says she was able to help. And look at this.”
He slowly scrolled down to the bottom of the page, showing off the dozens of symbols and sigils scattered throughout. A lot of them I recognized as protection from various supernatural beings. There were a lot that I didn’t recognize too. They clearly marked her as knowing about the world of supernatural creatures though. Unless she had just pulled together symbols she thought looked cool in order to give herself an air of authenticity.
“Alright, fine. But a few good reviews and a bunch of symbols used by hunters doesn’t exactly prove that she’s psychic,” Sam argued. I had to agree. I didn’t want to hurt Dean’s feelings since he’d clearly put some time into this and I knew he was just trying to help, but psychics made me nervous. There was no way I would agree to go unless we knew for sure she was legit.
“Yeah, I thought the same thing. Which is why I talked to Bobby,” Dean responded. So this was the reason he was so confident. Bobby was highly respected among the hunter community. If he gave his approval on this Amazing Annabelle, then we really couldn’t doubt her abilities. “He said he’s not super familiar with her, but he has heard of her. She’s good at what she does and someone who can be trusted.”
“Ok,” I agreed. “Breakfast and then a visit to the psychic. I suppose the worst that can happen is she isn’t able to help.”
~~~~~
The first thing I noticed about Annabelle was how… normal she was. With the exception of Missouri, all the other psychics I’d ever seen were dressed in over the top outfits, their places decked out with all sorts of nonsense that was supposedly necessary for them to do their job.
If I’d seen this girl on the street, I would never have guessed what her occupation was. She was about our age and short, standing a full head below my 5’ 6” frame. And she was very pretty. I noticed both Sam and Dean’s immediate appreciation of her beauty. She was wearing white leggings and a purple shirt, her night black hair was in a messy ponytail that suited her very well, and her golden brown skin was flawless.
“What can I do for you?” She asked when she opened the door. Dean cleared his throat before answering.
“I’m Dean. This is Sam and Y/N. We were hoping you could help us with something.”
“I gathered that much,” she smiled. She opened the door wider and stepped to the side. “Come in.”
We stepped inside and she led us to a room that had an armchair and a comfortable looking couch as well as a round table with four chairs. She sat in the armchair so the three of us settled ourselves on the couch, Sam and Dean on either end and me between them.
“So. What can I help you with?” She asked again.
“Do you have any experience with trying to recover memories?” I asked.
“Some, yes,” she said. “It really depends on how the memories were lost. Some are easy to find. Some take work, but can still be found with patience. Some, like in the instance of an injury to the brain, can’t be recovered.”
“We don’t actually know what happened. That’s part of what I need to remember. Our assumption is that magic was involved though,” I informed her.
“That shouldn’t be a problem,” she assured me. “If you’ll come with me?” She stood and moved to the table, gesturing for me to sit across from her. The boys came and stood close by to watch.
“I’ll need some information from you in order to know where to look,” she said. “Give me as much detail as you can about these memories. How long ago was it? How much time are you missing? Is it relating to any specific object or person? Anything you can give me will help.”
“It was yesterday,” Sam explained. “She has an hour and a half chunk of time just missing and we have no clue why.”
“What were you doing when you lost your memory and how did you realize you’d lost it?”
“I was just walking from our motel to a diner to get some food. I only realized what happened because I couldn’t actually remember why I left the room and I definitely didn’t think I was gone that long.”
“Ok,” she said, taking my hands in hers. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and instructed me to do the same. “I need you to concentrate as hard as you can on the moments from that walk that you can remember.”
Then she chanted a couple lines of Latin and suddenly I was back on the sidewalk outside the music store. I was walking in the direction of the diner once again when I hit a block. It was like an invisible barrier I couldn’t pass. I tried to go around it and when that didn’t work, turned around to go the other way. No matter what I tried, I was stuck where I was.
And then I was back at the table with Annabelle, Sam and Dean hovering over my shoulders.
“Well?” Dean asked.
“I still don’t remember anything,” I told Annabelle.
“I know. Your memories were definitely blocked using magic. It’s a stronger magic than I was expecting. It’s up to you to decide how important it is that you get them back. If you want to continue, I’m going to have to put you into a trance in order to access them.”
“Is that dangerous?” Dean asked.
“It can be. But only if you don’t have a good anchor,” she answered.
“What does that mean?” Sam asked.
“I’m going to have to send Y/N deep into her subconscious to find answers. Doing this requires an anchor, a tether to reality, someone to bring her back. Otherwise she could be stuck in her own subconscious with no way out."
“That’s not a problem. Both of them would be willing to do that,” I told her.
“I’m sure they would, but your anchor can’t be just anyone. It has to be someone with a very strong emotional connection. Normally I recommend close family members or significant others for this sort of process. I’m assuming they are neither?”
I hesitated. The answer, of course, was no. But I didn’t see how I couldn’t have a strong enough connection with them for this to work. Living the way we did – being with each other 24/7, trusting each other with our lives – created a very strong bond. Not to mention the way I felt about Dean. But maybe if it was one sided it wouldn’t work. And I wasn’t about to say that Dean was the safer bet because I felt our connection was stronger.
“Dean can do it,” Sam announced.
Dean and I both whipped our heads to look at him. I was sure the shock, irritation, and minor panic I could see on Dean’s face was mirrored on my own. I knew we were panicking for entirely different reasons though. For Dean it was worry that he wouldn’t be a strong enough connection for me. He didn’t want to risk me not coming back. For me it was worry that Sam was going to rat me out. And boy would we have words if he did.
“What?” He snapped at the death glares we were both now fixing on him. “You know it’s true. You’ve known Dean longer than you’ve known me. You two get along so well and know each other so well that if I didn’t know any better I’d think you’d known each other your entire lives. I promise your emotional connection is more than strong enough to handle this. And I swear if either one of you tries to deny how close you are right now, I will not hesitate to punch you.”
I looked at Dean at the same moment he looked at me. There was uncertainty in his eyes, but his jaw and shoulders were set in determination.
“I can leave you alone to discuss it if you’d like,” Annabelle offered.
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Dean said. “It’s up to you of course – you’re the one taking the risk – but I’ll do my best to bring you back if you’re willing to trust me to do it. Otherwise we can try to find another way.”
“Of course I trust you. That’s not even a question,” I told him.
He watched me for a minute, weighing the sincerity of my words.
“Ok,” he said. “What do you need us to do?”
Annabelle stood up and moved to a shelf full of drawers on the edge of the room, opening different ones and pulling things out as she explained.
“As I already said, I’ll be putting Y/N into a deep trance. The magic is blocking your memories on a conscious level. Sending you into your subconscious will allow you to access them, but only while you’re in the trance. Once you’re awake, you’ll forget everything again.”
“Then how does this help us?” Sam asked.
Annabelle set everything she’d grabbed down on the table and then opened a cabinet underneath, grabbing a clear glass ball and setting it in the middle of the table.
“It helps, because you and I will be able to see everything she’s seeing while she’s in the trance.”
“What about me?” Dean asked.
“Since you’re the anchor, you’ll be inside her head too. You’ll be able to see and hear everything. Sam and I will only be able to see, so you’ll need to pay particular attention to things you hear as you’ll be the only one who knows those details.”
She began combining her ingredients, crushing leaves and mixing together powders and liquids.
“While she’s out, I need the two of you to be absolutely silent,” she told Sam and Dean. “You’ll both be fully aware of the noises happening around you. It could be tricky getting to the hidden memories, and distractions won’t help. Once we’ve found the information you’re looking for, we’ll need your anchor. At that point I need Dean – and only Dean – to start talking to her.”
She now had a liquidy brown paste in front of her. She dipped her finger into it and began drawing symbols on my forehead.
“It doesn’t matter what you say. Your voice, as well as your physical connection, will lead her back into consciousness.”
“Our physical connection?” I asked.
“Yes. You’ll need to be holding hands during this,” she said. Done with my forehead, she quickly drew an intricate swirling knot on the palm of each of my hands. She drew the same design on both of Dean’s palms and then worked on his forehead as well. I assumed the design was identical to mine. “Dean, if you’ll sit across from her, we can get started.”
She sat in one of the two empty chairs and gestured for Sam to sit in the last one.
“Alright. I need you to tell me everything you can remember from the time just before your memories disappeared. Once you’re under, you won’t be able to talk to me. The more details I have, the easier I can guide you to the missing time.”
“I already told you what I remember.”
“No. I need more. Tell me exactly what the last thing you remember is. Is it walking out the door? Did you get a ways before you forgot? What were you thinking? What were you feeling? What could you see, hear, smell? Give me everything you can remember.”
“Well… I don’t remember leaving the room. I kind of remember getting to the motel, but that’s a little hazy. I guess the clearest memory I have is waking up in the Impala about 15 minutes before we got to town.”
“Ok. Let’s start with that then. What details can you give me about that?” She prompted.
“I don’t know. Not much. We were in the car. On the interstate. Dean had Metallica playing. I’m sorry, I don’t know what else to say,” I told her. If this is what it took to get my memories back then I was screwed. Coming up with little details from hazy memories wasn’t exactly easy.
“That’s ok. Don’t worry. How about how you were feeling? Can you remember that?”
I’d just had a dream about Dean. So a big mix of emotions. Happy, sad, longing, irritation. Irritation. Yeah. I definitely remembered being annoyed when we got to the motel.
“I was annoyed. When we got to the motel. I remember being annoyed. I imagine it’s why I left to get the food. And Dean said I seemed stressed.”
“Great!” Annabelle praised. “What else? Do you know why you were annoyed?”
“Um…” How to answer that truthfully but without giving anything away. I looked between Sam and Dean and remembered how Sam had picked up on what I’d dreamt about and silently teased me about it. “Just an argument with Sam.” Sam rolled his eyes.
“What argument?” Dean interjected. “You guys didn’t even talk to each other.”
“No, but just because we’re not as close as you two are doesn’t mean we can’t communicate without having to say anything,” Sam said.
Dean looked shocked. No doubt he was wondering how often we’d had these silent conversations. Little did he know, they were always about him.
“Ok. Anything else you can give me?” Annabelle asked.
“I know I went into a music store and stopped to play one of the pianos. I don’t actually remember doing it though. Sorry, that’s all I’ve got.”
“That’s fine. I’ve got enough to work with. Remember, I need the two of you to stay quiet,” she told Sam and Dean. They both confirmed that they would. “Ok. Dean and Y/N, take each other’s hands and close your eyes.”
She waited for us to follow her instruction before continuing. A stream of Latin, different from the first time, fell from her lips and I felt myself sinking deeper and deeper into my subconscious. It felt a little like drifting off to sleep, so gradual that you’re somehow both aware and unaware of it at the same time.
~~~~~
Dean’s POV
As Annabelle’s chanting trailed off, a picture of my surroundings slowly began to take shape. I recognized it immediately. It was the inside of the Impala – from Y/N’s perspective. She was in the passenger side backseat, her usual place.
“Can you hear me Y/N?” Annabelle asked in a calm, soothing tone. “If you can hear me, I want you to get out of the car.”
I watched as my hand – No. Not mine. Y/N’s – reached for the handle and then she swung her legs out and stood up.
“Great. I’ll do my best to guide you to your forgotten memories, but this is mostly on you. If you seem stuck, I’ll help you figure out where to go, but otherwise I’ll stay quiet and let you figure things out for yourself. Now I need you to focus for me. I need you to think about the motel.”
The background around us flashed through a series of images. Different motels we’d stayed at over the years.
“The motel you’re staying at now,” Annabelle clarified. “The one you got to last night.”
The flashing images slowed and came to rest on one.
“That’s good, Y/N. Now I need you to focus on your emotions from last night. You got to the motel and were annoyed with Sam because you’d just had an argument.”
Y/N’s mind flashed back to the backseat of the Impala, Metallica’s Fade to Black playing through the speakers. She was looking at Sam in the rearview mirror, his eyebrows raised. I could tell by the view shifting back and forth that she was shaking her head. Sam looked quickly at me and then back to her, smiling. And then, memory over, we were back outside the motel.
That’s it? That was their argument? No wonder I’d missed it. What did it even mean? I caught myself just before I actually asked these questions out loud, remembering Annabelle’s instruction to stay silent.
“You wanted to take a walk, so you offered to go get food for everyone,” Annabelle continued. I watched this memory version of Y/N walk out the door. “You stopped at a music store along the way. Did you stop anywhere else?”
We all sat in silence as we watched Y/N walk for several blocks, never stopping. She looked around as she walked, frequently turning her head to look at different things. I remembered Annabelle telling me I would be the only one with access to the sounds in her memory and started paying attention. I heard the chirping of birds, the occasional car driving by, a bell ringing inside a store as someone opened the door. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Y/N walked past a group of teenagers and I listened in to their conversation. They were discussing the loss of their friends. The information I got from them was useless as far as Y/N was concerned, but I memorized their faces so we could question them once we’d helped Y/N and were ready to work the case we actually came here for.
She walked for another block and then stopped outside the music store. She stopped for a moment to look at it, and the world around me disappeared as she relived a different memory. I saw a child’s hands on the keys of a piano. I heard the music being played, a simple melody of Jingle Bells that the child was singing along to. I heard a grown man singing with her. The song ended and she looked up into the smiling face of the man I knew to be her father.
She crossed the street and walked into the store, heading straight for the pianos and trailing her fingers over them as she walked by, much as she had her second time through with me and Sam. She stopped at the same piano she did with us. Having seen the childhood memory, I now understood the draw to this particular instrument.
I listened as she played a complex set of chords that transitioned into a haunting melody. I was entranced, as I always was when she played. It was clear it was something she deeply enjoyed and missed. I was startled as Annabelle’s voice cut in over the music.
“What did you do next? What happened when you were done playing?” She asked. I suppose this part of the memory would be particularly boring to her and Sam, who couldn’t hear what I could. Not to mention it wasn’t exactly helping us find out what happened. We did need to keep moving, I supposed.
The memory jumped to the last few notes of what had to be a different song entirely. Then Y/N turned around and saw the store owner standing there, listening intently.
“You’re a wonderful pianist,” he told her.
“Oh, that? I was just messing around,” she mumbled at the compliment.
I listened closely to their conversation. While he was pretty low down on my suspect list, he was also technically the only person on that list as he was the only person we knew to have interacted with her. Nothing sparked my suspicions though.
He continued to praise her abilities, she continued to brush them aside, and he asked if she had any interest in buying the piano she’d been playing.
“I would be very happy to sell it to you,” he told her. “It’s not often I get to sell an instrument with the confidence it will be used and well loved.”
She politely turned down his offer and then told him she needed to be going, that her friends were expecting her to be back soon.
She left the store and continued her walk. Although I couldn’t actually feel her emotions, I could tell that playing had calmed her down significantly. There was just something about the way the world looked to her now.
She made it another half a block before she stopped. I could discern no reason for this. She simply stopped walking. After a few minutes it became apparent that something wasn’t right.
“This is where you got stuck the first time we tried finding your memories, isn’t it?” I heard Annabelle ask. “Whatever happened to block your memories, this is where it happened. The magic is still putting up a fight. I need you to push back. It can’t stop you from seeing. It’s all in your head that you can’t go any further. Just keep walking.”
We all waited for a couple minutes as she struggled with pushing past whatever spell was holding her in place.
“You can do it,” Annabelle encouraged. “You’re stronger than the magic is, I promise. Keep walking.”
Another minute passed and I knew she was winning because noises – which I hadn’t even realized had disappeared – started filtering through. It was like hearing something from underwater. Muffled, hard to make out, but definitely there. Then, all at once I could hear voices clearly and we were moving forward again.
I heard the sounds of a struggle coming from the alley in front of her. She quickly walked to it and then slowed to a stop just outside, listening. There was the unmistakable sound of chanting and underneath it, gurgling.
“Perfect,” she muttered under her breath. She reached into her boot to grab the silver knife she always had with her. “Wish I had my gun right about now.”
She peeked her head around and saw a teenage boy standing over another one. An endless stream of water was spewing out of the lips of the boy on the ground and he was choking on it. The chanting boy was facing her. The second she stepped into the alley she’d be spotted. But the drowning boy didn’t have time for her to find a better plan of attack.
She rushed in and the boy stopped his chanting when he saw her. He started a different chant, just a few words, and then he raised his arm, flinging her into the building beside her. The knife she’d been holding went flying out of her hand. I desperately wanted to run to help her, to make sure she was ok or to kill that boy. I didn’t know which desire was stronger, but I reminded myself that it didn’t matter. This was a memory. It was all in the past and I couldn’t change it now. I just had to watch and learn what I could. That’s how I would help her. Because now we had his face and we could track him down.
Hand still stretched out to hold her in place, he looked back to his original target, now desperately gasping for breath. He continued his chanting, and the poor boy on the ground only lasted a few more moments.
“Why are you doing this?” Y/N asked him. “What could he possibly have done to you to deserve that?”
“I don’t expect you to understand,” the boy snapped at her. “No one does.”
He started marching in her direction.
“You should have left it alone,” he snarled. “If you’d just kept walking, everything would be fine. But now you’ve seen too much. And you have to go too.”
He started up his chanting again, directing it at Y/N this time. I could hear water falling from her mouth and hitting the ground. I could hear the sound of her gurgling and choking. I couldn’t bear it. How had she gotten out of this?
“Thomas!” A sharp female voice called from the other end of the alley.
The chanting stopped as the boy looked in the direction of the voice. Y/N immediately started coughing the water out of her lungs and gasping for breath. She looked at the person who had spoken. She was a woman in her late 40s or early 50s at a guess and she was fuming.
“What is wrong with you?” She asked as she smacked him over the head. “Don’t you think you’ve left enough bodies behind? Do you want to attract the attention of a hunter?”
“She saw me! What was I supposed to do?” He protested.
“You were supposed to have not killed another person to begin with! We talked about this! I’ve covered your messes your whole life, but I can’t hide murdered teenagers. Especially when you’re as sloppy about it as you’ve been and especially when you don’t even tell me about it!”
The boy hung his head in shame. But not guilt. Apparently he’d been raised to do a better job of hiding his crimes. Witches. I hated them.
“Well I have to kill her now. She’s seen too much,” Thomas argued.
“No. We’re already far too at risk of hunters coming to town. You can’t add another person to the body count. Especially so close to your father’s store. Do you want him to find out it's you killing people? About the fact magic is real, and you use it? No. We’ll erase her memory and send her on her way. She won’t be a problem.”
The witch grabbed an already made hex bag out of her purse and placed it in Y/N’s immobilized hand, forcing her fingers to close around it. I knew that she would have been fighting to get free, but since she was completely stuck there were no visible indications of this. I had been in that position more than once and knew the frustration of being unable to move.
The boy’s mother started up her own chanting and the memory we were in started fading to black. It continued with Y/N standing just outside the music store. She seemed confused at first, looking around as if trying to get her bearings. Then she turned and headed back in the direction of the motel, completely oblivious to what had just happened.
“Ok,” Annabelle said. I’d forgotten she was even there. “It’s time to bring her back. Go ahead and talk to her, Dean.”
At the mention of my name, I saw my face flash through her mind. I was sitting beside her on a couch and smiling. I didn’t remember this particular day. It could have been on any given day at any random motel.
I wasn’t really sure what to say, and just babbling whatever words came into my head seemed silly, but getting her back was more important than my discomfort.
“Y/N,” I said, pausing to think of my next words. The memory in her head changed. Now, rather than seeing from her perspective, I was in an outsider’s point of view. And I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. “What the hell is that?” I gasped out.
With a mix of excitement, shock, and confusion, I watched a guy who looked remarkably like me – although it couldn’t have been because I knew this had never happened before – lift Y/N in the air, spin her around a couple of times, and then set her back on her feet before leaning down to kiss her.
“I thought we were in her memories,” I said.
“You are,” Annabelle answered.
“No we’re not. We can’t be. That never happened.”
“Then it must be a memory of a dream. Focus, Dean,” Annabelle instructed. “Be her anchor. Bring her back.”
I tried to concentrate on my job, but all I could see was the image of us kissing playing over and over in my head.
“Can you please think of something else?” I practically begged her.
I was grateful when the memory – or whatever it was – flickered and changed into something else. Only this was no better. We were kissing again, only this time sitting on a very nice couch in a very nice room. It changed again. Sitting in the front seat of the Impala together, just the two of us. Kissing. Another change. I had Y/N pressed up against a wall. We were really kissing in this one.
It changed again and I breathed out a sigh of relief. She’d pulled up a random memory of her in one of her college classes, back before she quit school.
“Ok,” I breathed out and then cleared my throat. “Ok.” If I thought I didn’t know what to say before, I was really stuck now. What was I supposed to say to her after seeing all of that?
“Ok,” I said yet again. “You need to come back now. You have to find your way back. Sam and I are waiting for you.”
“It’s not going to work,” Annabelle said. “She’s trying too hard to keep her memories in control to focus on finding her way out of the trance. Y/N, don’t worry about what memories surface during this. Your only job is to come out of it. Listen to Dean and don’t worry about anything else. And Dean. Don’t worry about finding the right words. Say whatever comes naturally. That’s what she needs.”
Say what comes naturally. This would be a lot easier if I didn’t know Sam was listening to my every word. But Y/N was counting on me. I took a deep breath to prepare myself.
I said her name again. The memory of the classroom flickered to one of me in the driver’s seat of the Impala, singing along to Led Zeppelin. Y/N was in the back, singing with me and Sam was smiling in the passenger seat, refusing to join in.
“If I’m being honest with you, I don’t really know what I’m supposed to say right now. But you trusted me to get you out of this and I’ll be damned if I let you down. So I need you to do your part too. Find your way out of this. Come back to us.”
Memories flashed by as she searched for a way back into consciousness. I saw memories of real things, memories I shared. Us in the car, in motel rooms, on hunts. Her patching up a knife wound on my bicep, me holding her close and carrying her after her run in with that shapeshifter. There were more memories of things I didn’t recognize too. More dreams, I suppose. Us out on what could only be interpreted as a date. Us curled up together in bed, talking. Us dancing together in an empty parking lot, a slow song playing from Baby’s speakers. And more dreams of us kissing in various scenarios.
It would have been so easy to get lost in all of these memories, in seeing myself the way she saw me. And in wondering how she could apparently dream about me so much, apparently have feelings for me, without me ever knowing. But I made myself focus on being her anchor.
“Do you know how glad I am that you’re a part of my life? I sometimes wonder how I ever managed without you. And you know you can’t leave me and Sam on our own. We wouldn’t last without you. We’d probably kill each other.”
I watched as the countless swirling memories of us switched to ones of me and Sam. She remembered more than one instance that proved me wrong. She thought about all the times Sam and I had leaned on each other and kept the other going. She was essentially telling me that while she appreciated the sentiment, she knew we’d be fine without her.
“Alright, fine,” I said. “Maybe we’d get by fine on our own. That doesn’t mean either of us want to. You’re too important to us. So come back to us,” I repeated.
She seemed to be flipping through her memories, as if looking for the right one to bring her back.
“Come back to me.”
I became the focus again, a memory of me standing outside on a bright sunny day and laughing at something she’d said flitting into her mind. But she pushed it away to start looking again.
“Don’t worry about the memories, remember?” I told her. “Just focus on me. Listen to my voice. Try to feel my hands,” I encouraged her. Different memories floated by again, pulled up at random by my words, or maybe the tone of my voice. I didn’t know. They almost all circled around just the two of us though. More dreams of us kissing flashed by.
The shock I felt at these images was lessening and I was beginning to be more comfortable with them. So, following Annabelle’s advice, I let myself respond naturally. I let go of the tight leash I usually kept on my natural inclination to flirt. It wasn’t something I’d ever done with her, not wanting to scare her away. If only I’d known how she really felt.
“You know,” I drawled, wishing I could flash her a smile. “If you wanted to kiss me so badly, you only had to say something. We can definitely do something about that. But only if you come back to me.”
There was a rush of memories flipping by so quickly I couldn’t make anything out in any of them. Then everything went black and I became aware of my own body again. I tentatively opened my eyes and saw Y/N sitting across from me, Sam and Annabelle on either side of us.
I smiled a little. I wanted to know if she’d found her way out so suddenly out of embarrassment and a desire to escape or excitement and anticipation.
“Don’t forget, she won’t remember any of what just happened,” Annabelle warned me.
“I know,” I said. That wasn’t a problem. It was a lot easier to take a shot when you could see clearly. And I could finally see everything.
Chapter 3
Tags: @123passwort @buckybarnes-1917 @chicken-nuggs-and-cozy-hugs @globetrotter28
#familiar#supernatural#supernatural fanfiction#dean winchester#sam winchester#reader insert#sam winchester x platonic!reader#dean winchester x platonic!reader#dean winchester x reader
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How my obsession with shipping spoiled Avatar: The Last Airbender for me.
I'm an OG Avatar fan. I watched the show when it first aired in February of 2005. I was 15 years old.
Right away, I knew Aang and Katara were gonna be a thing. It was so obvious, and it only became more obvious as Season 1 went on. More so in Season 2 and Season 3. The show never let you forget about it, as even outside of overtly Kataang-centric episodes like The Fortuneteller and The Cave of Two Lovers, they kept bringing it up in some form or another.
Unfortunately, Zutara was a thing, and they never shut up about it. Despite all evidence to the contrary, they insisted up and down that Zuko and Katara were meant to be together. I was a Zutara shipper for a short time, and I admit that I thought it would be canon too in the weeks leading up to Crossroads of Destiny. After the Season 2 finale, I went with the flow, and sided with Kataang... and that's where the problems began to really start.
You see, the Zutara fandom got really toxic right after Season 2 ended. Kataang fans like myself didn't appreciate it, and before I knew it... watching Avatar: The Last Airbender was no longer about just enjoying the show. It was about winning. Just so we could gloat when Zutara inevitably lost.
I could no longer just watch the show and relax. I was on the edge of my seat during each episode, keeping a sharp eye out for the slightest hint of Kataang, and spent the weeks between each episode arguing with strangers online about shipping, trying to convince a brick wall that it was not made of steel... if you will indulge me the metaphor.
In short, shipping wars sucked all the joy of watching Avatar: The Last Airbender. By engaging in shipping wars with rabid Zutarians, I kind of ruined the show for myself. Not entirely my fault, because the Zutara fans back then were easily-triggered bullies who just would not stop, which made it hard to ignore them... but nonetheless, I feel like all of us should've ignored them. Their ship was never going to be canon, everyone knew it after Crossroads of Destiny. All except for this toxic vocal minority whose enjoyment of the show hinged on whether or not their ship became canon.
Unfortunately, some Kataangers (such as myself) got so upset about it (and so obsessed with it) that our enjoyment of the show also hinged on our ship being canon.
How bad was it? Bad enough that I can no longer call Avatar: The Last Airbender my favorite show of all time. Why? Because the experience of watching it the first time was STRESSFUL. So stressful, in fact, that I usually can't go back and watch it again.
Compare that to other shows I've watched... like Hilda, on Netflix. That was a very relaxing show to watch the first time around, and because of that I feel like I can go back and watch it whenever. But Avatar, sadly, only brings back memories of stress and anxiety... stemming from an unhealthy obsession with something stupid.
P.S. Why the hell did we ever call it "Kataang"? Who is the IDIOT that came up with that name? I always thought that was a stupid name for our ship. Why not "Aangtara" or "Kataraang"?
#avatar the last airbender#aang#katara#zuko#kataang#zutara#shipping#crossroads of destiny#shipping wars#toph beifong#sokka#the gaang#suki#princess yue#the fortuneteller#the cave of two lovers#the headband
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Hannibal and Will Adopted Oliver AU Pt. 2
I literally have waited long enough to continue posting this one. Definitely owed it to @ib3li3v3you so here goes:
Pt. 1 here: https://island-in-the-shadows.tumblr.com/post/742073028536582144/my-hannibal-and-will-adopted-oliver-au-hcs
Oliver goes hunting on his own for the first time at 18 (so prior to arriving at Oxford). His dads are waiting in the wings, so to speak, in case Oliver fumbles. His hunting style is, given that he's a teenager, a little more conspicuous than his fathers'. His target had been scoped out for months, however. Got just the right person from his papa's (Hannibal) Rolodex of Rude.
Oliver wanted to try something a little different from how his dads do it which meant finding the rude man in question and seducing him while simultaneously remaining in the shadows. He really thought this out. Anyway, very looong story short, he basically does what cannibalistic spiders do to their mates. Except with a deadly syringe. His fathers' help him create a spidery display.
Oliver does start out eating regular, if incredibly fancy, food but does develop the taste for long pig and, in either case, has a fondness for Sweetbreads. Don't ask me why, I'm still not clear and do not want to probe.
Oliver seriously considers taking care of Farleigh for a while because he finds him unspeakably rude. However, Hannibal and Will advise him not to and recount how they have waited for the right time. Besides, they both know that Farleigh going missing would be noteworthy and possibly alienate their son from what he wants the most: Felix.
Hannibal sympathises with Oliver much more than Will does about the whole Felix thing. Will knows Felix's type and is just instantly on his guard. Hannibal, on the other hand, knows what it's like to fall for some pretty boy more or less at first sight.
This means that Hannibal is the one that gets the brunt of the calls when Oliver needs to vent about Felix. Yes, even when Oliver is so angry with Felix for abandoning him to shag some girl that he debates about killing him.
Back to Oliver's lies: Instead of telling Felix that his dad died, he says his mother died.
Will is the one that helps Oliver fully understand what it is that Felix wants. Except Will never suspects that Felix might want Oliver too. Cut him some slack, it's his kid and he mainly just wants the crush to go away.
Hannibal and Will argue about Oliver's obsession with Felix. Get in a fight about it. Hannibal believes Oliver and Felix are inevitable. Will thinks their son is going to wind up with a corpse and a broken heart.
The tack in the bike tyre was Hannibal's idea.
Oliver finds horror movies funny because, come on, he's literally seen and done worse.
Oliver does tell his dads that he's going to Saltburn instead of coming home.
Oliver knows how to cook though not as well as Hannibal. However, when he eats Venetia out, he thinks her blood would be wonderful in a Sanguinaccio Dolce. He wonders if Felix's blood tastes better.
His phone kept ringing while at Saltburn and Oliver kept ignoring it. The "HL" and "WG" brought questions from Felix, so he lied and said it's family members who are always asking him for something or to forgive his dad. Stupidly, this prompts him to change the name for both numbers and put "dad." (Let's remember Oliver is very smart but also very fucking stupid in canon; same goes here.)
When Felix answers the phone when "dad" calls, it's Hannibal on the other line. Hannibal follows his son's ruse and pretends he knows nothing about Felix. He does, however, get curious. Tells Felix that he would love to see Oliver for his birthday and that wouldn't it be nice if Felix came with him.
Hannibal lies and says that he's at something like a program for rehabilitation. Really wants to make it extra tempting for Felix. Gives him the address and says that oh this whole building was remade and blah blah he plays it up. He has a ball doing this.
On the drive to this place (not Prescot because, even though that's where Hannibal and Will found him, that's decidedly not where they live now.), Oliver at first doesn't recognise where they're going. Hannibal and Will and Oliver moved to this estate (one that Hannibal has long owned but barely used) a few months before Oliver started at Oxford and Oliver really only left it to hunt once and then to get on the trains and busses that would get him to school. [I did actually look for real estate for this and had fun doing it.]
However, when they turn into a familiar little road with all the familiar buildings before they get to the definitely familiar 16th century manor, Oliver starts to panic.
Felix comments on how nice it is for a rehabilitation program. Oliver is dying inside and he knows his dads did this on purpose.
Felix is, however, taken by complete surprise when he realises that Oliver's dad and his "friend" are the only people there.
Hannibal asks Felix forgiveness but that Oliver is so embarrassed of them that he had to lie. He reveals Will is his partner and that oh yes, shame about Oliver's mother dying all those years ago.
Will is polite but quietly observing. Hannibal is the consummate host. Felix is livid but polite. Hannibal likes that Felix keeps playing at politeness. Will finds it grating.
Oliver will pull Will aside and ask why? Will pats Oliver's shoulder, "We were curious what would happen, you should know that."
When Hannibal hugs Oliver goodbye he whispers, "Don't spoil the meat."
Ok this is long enough...will keep developing this for later with the big party, the maze, Felix surviving, and eventually becoming interested in more exotic meats. LOL
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