#where dennis is like 'two wars?!?'

[queer-little-demigod]

Hi lea!!!! Can you write about an clarisse la true x apollo!reader

Clarisse got in trouble for something (what's new tho) and got a punishment of helping out with the little demigods art class for 2 weeks (or however long) the volunteer teacher is reader. At first Clarisse did NOT wanna be there she acted like a baby for the first few days but after she got more involved and started to understand she enjoyed it (she would never admit it), she started talking to the kids more (she totally has favorites, reader has to constantly tell her dont be so obvious about her favorites 😭) it got to a point where the kids would start talking to her outside of class. Also Clarisse definitely doesn't develop a crush on reader. AT ALL. SHE DEFINITELY HATES HOW PASSIONATE SHE IS ABOUT THE KIDS AND ART AND HOW GOOD SHE IS WITH KIDS SHE DOESN'T THINK ITS CUTE AT ALL. SHE DOESNT THINK OF THAT CLASS AS ONE BIG FAMILY. I mean what???? Who said that???

Anyways when it's time for her to go reader takes some of the kids to make a goodbye sign for clarisse; clarisse takes her 100% not favorite kid on a secret mission to make an 'I'm staying' sign. Then reader and Clarisse present them at the same time and it's all cutesy!! After class, reader asks clarisse on a date via showing her a pain she drew of them on a date and hopes she gets the message!

Thank you! :)

you got an artist inside you - clarisse la rue

summary where clarisse finds herself falling in love with a girl over paintbrushes and a punishment

fic type fluff

pairing clarisse la rue x fem!apollo!reader

word count 1.8k

warnings none

The camp was usually sleepy, quiet, and mostly empty apart from a few stray campers training here and there. But with summer already beating down with a burning force, it was full of kids running around, training left right and center, and all-in-all just general chaos.

So with the burning heat came grumpy older campers, which meant fights.

And a fight at lunch is what led to Clarissa having to help the younger campers with art class, with the co-teacher being none other than you, Y/n L/n, counsellor of the Apollo cabin. Additionally and otherwise known as the girl Clarisse was smitten with.

"Clarisse La Rue if you don't stop whining like that right now, I am going to smack you," you grumbled in utter frustration for the fifth time that hour, when she complained to you about some kid not cutting the paper the way it was supposed to be cut.

For a child of the god of war, she was such a wuss sometimes.

"But they're not following-" she began to protest, but a smack upside the head with a roll of wrapping paper shut her up.

"They're seven year olds in a summer camp art class," you emphasised on those facts. "They're gonna do their own thing!"

This was how the first few days went. She complained, you disciplined both her and the kids. But once she got used to the whole routine of you both giving instructions and the final products having irritatingly distinct variations, she cooled down.

If this was going to be a punishment for the next two weeks, she might as well enjoy it.

The art room, as usual, was a mess. Glitter was everywhere, coloured pencils were strewn around, papers were on the floor, blackened and trampled on. The strong scent of glue made everyone a bit woozy, and there was enough shouting for supplies across the table to give even the calmest camper a sensory overload.

Clarisse sat in the danger zone where the most glitter was being thrown around and spilled, and her soft skin was already glimmering with purple and red glitter as she tried restoring order. However, instead of yelling as usual she was laughing along with the little kids.

One kid in particular, you noticed, she helped far more than the others. A Hephaestus kid named Dennis, who was the sweetest little thing with big, round glasses and bronze hearing aids that you had Charlie customise so they looked like metal elf ear tips.

You pulled Clarissa aside and scolded her with a smile, “Clar, you cannot pick favourites!”

Clarissa loved your smile with everything she had. So naturally, she was so captivated by it that she didn't hear you the first time. Nor did she register the scolding.

"Excuse me, but Dennis deserves special treatment--" She began, but you cut her off.

"No, he's just like the other kids, okay? Just make sure you don't pick favourites, please," you sighed and walked away, going back to showing the kids how to make paper butterflies.

But you're my favourite, she thought to herself. She wished she had the courage to say it out loud, admit her feelings for you, but she couldn't.

Later, as time went by, as days of standing in clouds of glitter and glue fumes began and ended, Clarisse found that she was apparently likeable. After classes, during training, during dinner, she'd have little kids pulling her sleeve to talk to her, she'd have kids randomly hugging her at odd times of the day, or giving her small artworks like a wonky bird or a odd-looking Cerebrus. It shocked the campers beyond belief.

But for you it just made your love for her grow.

One day during class, a Demeter kid named Flora started to cry because glitter went into her eye. You rushed over immediately and helped her up, holding her in your arms as you took her to the basin to clean her up.

"Shh, don't cry, baby, it's okay, I'm gonna wash it out, alright?" You said softly.

"Guys, focus on your work, Flo's fine," Clarisse said, clapping her hands to direct the staring kids back to work, her eyes fixed on you as you washed Flora's eyes with water gently, telling her that she should not to go so close to the page when blowing glitter off in the softest voice the child of war had ever heard.

You were so gentle, like the softest summer breeze which didn't make the leaves rustle, but cooled one's warming skin. You were so precious, with your soft smile and loving words. Your voice was sweet like honey, no matter who you talked to or how.

If your voice was bottled, she swore to the gods that she'd get drunk on it every night.

"You okay, champ?" She asked, gently ruffling Flora's soft brown hair as the girl sat down. "You're a strong girl, aren't you? Showed that stupid glitter it's place."

You giggled at the way she spoke, covering your mouth with your hand to hide it. It was ridiculously obvious that Clarisse thought the kids in the art class were like family, and it was genuinely so adorable.

Seeing her like this, curly hair pulled back in her red bandanna, arms splattered with paint here and there, with glitter shining off her smooth caramel skin with every movement she made into the light, lit up something inside of you. Seeing her without her usual scowl, pulling funny faces with the kids as she showed them how to draw a monster, made your heart beat twice as fast.

However, two weeks went by with heartbreaking speed, and before she knew it, she was in Chiron's office, listening to him gleefully say she was officially un-grounded.

But honestly? She didn't share his happiness.

Nor did you.

"What?! Already!?" You exclaimed that evening as you sat in your cabin at your desk, which had plans put out for what to make for the next art class.

"Yeah," she grumbled, lounging on your bed. "I hate it."

"That's rough, but it's okay, you can always hop in to volunteer,"

"What do we tell the little ones?"

"The truth?"

"You're fucking crazy if you think they'll go with it,"

"I'm out of options, Clar," you leaned back in your chair and put your hands over your eyes. "I love that class, and I love teaching art."

"I know, and as much as I hate to admit it," she sat up. "So do I."

The very next day, Clarisse rushed to Chiron and begged him to let her stay for that class. Even going to lengths that she told him how she felt for you.

"Fine," he relented. "You can stay with the class for as long as you'd like,"

She'd never run to the forges to find a kid so fast.

"Beckendorf!" She exclaimed, looking at the cabin counselor. "Hey, where's Dennis?"

The boy looked around, and his eyes landed on Dennis, who was inquisitively watching one of his half-sisters mold a few practice swords, helping occasionally with putting the swords in water.

"Dennis!" Beckendorf exclaimed, "Clarisse wants to talk to you!"

Dennis immediately ran over, grinning broadly, showing his gap-toothed smile. "Hi, Clarisse!" He said, excitedly.

"Hey there, big boy!" She smiled back, giving him a high five. "So listen, I'm going to need your insane artistic skills and your help..."

While you did help the other kids make a 'goodbye' sign for Clarisse, on the side you decided to confront your feelings.

You knew you liked her from the beginning, from when you first saw her infectious smile, from when you heard her deep laugh reverberating through the empty Apollo cabin on days where you both would plan lessons.

She held the key to your heart, she knew her way past your walls. She clearly also knew how to remain in your thoughts, subconscious and conscious, to the point where you found yourself in the art studio, canvas on an easel before you.

Thoughts of her, of feeling her coarse, battle-worn hands on your skin, of gazing into those deep brown eyes which were like the colour of the rain-kissed earth, and when she fought were like the evening sun, golden enough to put the wings of Icarus to shame, made your paintbrush move. It made your colours flow like the blood in your veins, made each stroke perfect enough to create the scene you most desired on the canvas in front of you.

You stepped back once you felt the need to express yourself flow away, gazing at the canvas. A scene it held, and what a scene indeed. The sky was cornflower blue, a cloudless day, with the sun’s rays shining down on a big oak tree. The leaves were paler as the golden light kissed the surface, casting sharp shadows on the pillowy grass.

But then there was vivid orange and red, a flash of bronze. In the foreground there sat both you and Clarisse, the latter having more detail than any part of the drawing.

Then the dreaded day came where you all had to say goodbye to her.

The little ones were devastated, not letting Clarisse go anywhere without following her around like baby ducklings, making her explain to them that she's not going away from camp, she's just not going to teach them anymore.

At the end of the final class, just as everyone unveiled the 'we'll miss you' poster, she and Dennis revealed their 'I'm Staying' poster, causing a loud, thunderous cheer to erupt from all of you.

Later, you pulled her aside to give her your canvas painting.

Nerves wracked your body, your palms began to sweat.

When was the last time you had felt this nervous? It was probably your cello recital the day you had come to camp...

"Holy shit, Y/n this looks absolutely amazing!" Clarisse exclaimed, taking the painting in her hands.

She didn't miss the detail you had given her, drawing her angelically, despite her thinking she was the opposite. It was so well done that the brush strokes weren't even visible.

Please get the message, you blockheaded, oblivious fool...you thought.

Deciding to act against your nerves, you asked her in a shaky voice, "That's a painting of us on a date...would you like to go on one with me sometime?"

Clarisse's heart stopped. Had you just asked her out on a date?

She was at a loss for words, they didn't touch her tongue, nor did they pass her lips. She stood there, speechless, gaping at you for a moment too long.

"I mean, I get it, you're probably not even a les--" you began, but a pair of gentle lips on yours silenced your words.

Sparks flew, butterflies went haywire, your brain short-circuited. You didn't know what to doo, just stood there frozen with shock. Kissing the girl you had liked for the last few months now.

Clarisse, however, was ecstatic. Her mind was a burst of colour, her body was ablaze. She felt like she had wings, and her heart was taking her up, up, up.

Once she pulled away, she winked at your blushing face and dopey grin.

"It's a date, L/n."

hi, it's me! lea! i hope you enjoyed this long overdue oneshot <3 requests are open via dms or asks!

[umbrellajam]

Azrael: Agent of the Bat #56 - No Man's Land Dick: "Scared, kid?" Tim: "Not really. A little nervous, I guess." Tim: "Who am I kidding? I'm scared. I feel like those soldiers must have felt right before D-Day." Dick: "D-Day, as in World War Two? You must stay awake in history class." Tim: "We're only up to the Spanish-American War, but I saw the Spielberg movie. Really bloody." Dick: "I hope it doesn't get that bad." Tim: "It won't, will it?" Tim: "Will it?"

Okay, several things I enjoy about this moment.

1. I'm just being so well-fed in terms of great Dick & Tim interactions in this era. Cataclysm, Brotherhood of the Fist, Road to NML, breaking into NML in Robin #67 with classic annoying-older-brother!Dick and Tim panicking about his safety when Dick does a quick death fake-out (typical, honestly lol)... And now with an introspective moment to themselves in the calm before the storm - in Azrael's book no less, lol! I wonder if this came from Dennis O'Neil as something he wanted to include or if it was collaboratively planned as a building-tension moment by the writing/editing teams plotting NML.

2. Tim confiding in Dick my beloved <3 But also - Tim lying at first that he's not really scared, before deciding to just be honest. He has these moments of such earnestness at times (not only with Dick (also YJ, Bruce, Steph, Cass), but often) and they're even more striking because of how prone he is to lying, secrecy, glossing over things and pretending to be fine, etc. most of the time.

He's still pretty young here, barely 15 if that, and his tendencies definitely get worse over time, but he's already wrestled with lying to his Dad, Ariana, Steph, and his other friends, already pretended to be fine to Dick's face in Contagion and Legacy when he was actively dying or under threat of doing so again, refused to tell his Dad he was ever even sick, lied to Bruce's face about Secret, etc... It just sticks out to me so much whenever he chooses to go - yeah, okay, I'll be open with you right now even if it makes me vulnerable.

3. Dick not answering him!! Is that last panel, where we can't see him over Tim's shoulder even though he's positioned right behind him in the others, implying that Dick straight up vanished in order to avoid having to lie or be vulnerable himself lmfao? (I mean, probably not, but the thought is v. funny.)

On the other hand, Dick's silence as a type of honesty and vulnerability in and of itself... We know that as much as Dick likes teasing Tim, he also likes to comfort him, to be that figure of strength and reassurance to him. For him to be the one asking Tim if he's scared in the first place, and then not be able to scrape up anything more than "yeah, hope it doesn't get as bad as literal D-Day" and foreboding silence when Tim admits that he is scared...

It makes me think of that contrasting moment in Murderer/Fugitive later on, where Dick does tell Tim the comforting lie, that he'll always be safe with Batman and Nightwing, that everything will be okay, and desperately wants Tim to believe it.

No such comforting lies in No Man's Land, apparently.

[unlikelypandahologram]

Reasons to ship every single version of MegOP

since Very Dumb Discourse™ exists about whether or not certain versions of this ship are valid, this is going to be THE most positive post about all versions of MegOP. refer back to this post for reasons to ship your favorite version of MegOP if anyone gets weird about it with you. now let us begin!!

G1: goofy '80s faction dads fighting each other in a denny's parking lot every week LET'S GOOO, that shit is fun as fuck. orion pax also totally had a celeb crush on megatron before megatron ruined that and shot him and his pals 😔 and there's a lot of angst you can add with megatron becoming galvatron and optimus coming back to life to see how much he's changed!

BW: it's the sheer fucking comedy gold factor of a newly minted college graduate and a terrorist dinosaur IMMEDIATELY singling each other out on a prehistoric rock and deciding to call their daily gang slap-fights the BEAST WARS, what iconic drama queens LMAOOOO. also, megatron made his final body in BM look like optimal optimus SPECIFICALLY to fuck with him, and that's just...incredible

UT: the fact that megatron CANONICALLY acted like a grieving widower over optimus after he died in armada is. amazing. never forget their absolutely insane obsession with each other that they can never EVER give up on played a direct part in unicron nearly ending the world <3

Bayverse: this is the one continuity of all fucking things that gave us the lore about megatron being prime's lord high protector. absolute galaxy brain writing from the tie-in comics. also these two would ABSOLUTELY have the messiest, nastiest, most brutal hate sex imaginable, and that's beautiful. <3

Animated: optimus being a rookie washout underdog and megatron being a super scary much older warlord is a really interesting and underrated fresh take on their dynamic! lots of fun to be had with exploring what their relationship would be like after megatron finally acknowledged him as his archnemesis, lol. also...age AND size difference ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Prime: do i even need to say anything, i'm pretty sure that one flashback still of orion and megatronus being friends is responsible for birthing a million shippers for this pairing alone LMAOOOO. the bitter ex-boyfriends energy was TRULY off the charts in this show, it's a damn shame megatron never appeared in RID15

Cyberverse: same bitter ex-boyfriends energy but this time with dates at maccadams. megatron also dies encouraging optimus to beat the unhinged alternate dimension megs AAHH THE ANGST

IDW1: they're both depressed gay war criminals in this one who CONSTANTLY live in each other's heads rent-free and that's amazing, lmfao. also, megatron becoming an autobot means this is one of the VERY FEW continuities where it's not nigh impossible to figure out a way to give these two a happy ending together in fanon

IDW2: space date space date SPACE DATE. they were falling together and everything. megatron also LITERALLY tells optimus to open himself to him...to give him the matrix...yeah megs my dude i'm sure that's the ONLY thing you wanted from optimus "opening" himself. toootally positive, lol

G1 Marvel: megatron was SUPER fucking pissed and weird as shit about the time optimus died over a video game. it counts

Dreamwave: their first fight had megatron urging optimus to join him AND they disappeared together in a space bridge explosion once which is like, a fanfic-esque setup for them to be alone. also i'm pretty sure this is the continuity where optimus accidentally gave megatron a lobotomy, so...uh...potential for angst is to be had

SG: mirror universe!! evil crazy villain optimus with noble goody-goody hero megatron has so much potential for absolute chaos. bonus if you also bring in the normal versions somehow through multiverse shenanigans <3

KP: the only way this version of prime can redeem himself from the creepy underage human girl bullshit is if he gets a good hard dicking from megatron. next

Prime Wars: huge "ex-husbands go on a road trip with their disgruntled daughter" energy here. megatron also LITERALLY says "oh optimus, if only you could see me now" <3

Earthspark: again...need i say why? they're pals and working together from the get-go, what's not to ship??

Skybound: optimus literally wears megatron's arm. truly beautiful <3

TF One: it's not out yet but give it time. the entire movie is going to be about orion and d-16 being madly in love and tragically breaking up, baby!!

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

One For The Road [2]

Cecil Dennis x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo• ko-fi •

Series Masterlist

Summary: You haven't spoken to Cecil since what happened last week.

A/N: Another huge thank you to @thexsanctuaryx for beta reading again and putting up with my nonsense! <3

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, reader has been drinking - but not enough to affect them, mentions of weed, catching feelings and self denial of catching feelings, fingering, oral sex (afab!receiving), jerking off, cumming on someone, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 2186

I Saw This Coming From The Start

It had been a week. A full week since you’d seen him. Since you’d practically run out of the front door when Harry had come in, making up some excuse to leave that you can’t even remember now.

He’d messaged the next day. Gentle, and kind. Apologising without explicitly saying what he was apologising for. Which had made you feel bad because it wasn’t like he had tried something with you and gotten pissy when you’d rejected him. 

No, you’d wanted it, still want it. And that was the problem really. 

You hadn’t messaged back, trying to push it all to the back of your mind and further still. Tonight you’d gone out on a shit date. So boring and dull that you’d made a hasty exit and drowned your sorrows in a local bar. 

It wasn’t like you were flat out drunk, just a little buzzed. Two drinks more than you normally would in that short timeframe. And all you could do was think about stupid Cecil and his stupid curls and stupidly thick fingers. 

You’d sent him a message before you could think twice. 

Are you busy?

He’d messaged back almost instantly. No. You okay?

Where are you?

Home.

Alone?

You’d been in the Uber before he even replied yes. 

The smile he’d given you when he’d opened the front door to your knock had almost broken your heart. 

“Hey!” He’d hugged you with one arm, purposefully not getting too close as he ushered you into the living room. “I’m so glad you texted.” He smelt very obviously of weed. “I was getting worried, I mean,” he pulls a face. “Not worried. You’re an adult, you can do what you want, of course you can, I mean,” he rubs the back of his head, “I mean, I mean, I upset you didn’t I? I was a jerk, I’m so sorry, I-”

You turn quickly and kiss him, pressing your lips to his demandingly.

He groans, his eyes fluttering closed as you lick into his mouth. He tastes the alcohol on your tongue. “Wait,” he swallows, moving back a step. “You’re drunk.”

“No.” 

He gives you those soft eyes that can absolutely destroy your resolve in less than ten seconds, the UN should class that look as a war crime. 

“I just had a few drinks.” You glare at him. 

He lightly brushes your arm and you shrug him away, frowning. 

The soft look he gives you stings. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” You snarl. 

“Like what?” 

“All puppy dog eyes and shit, it’s not fair.” 

He pauses, “Puppy dog eyes?”

“Yeah,” you motion to him, “you know the look, makes you all sweet and soft and cute, and makes it really fucking hard to not do what you want.”

He smiles ever so slightly. “You think it’s cute?” 

“I think you’re cute.” You say grumpily. 

His smile widens. “I think you’re cute too.” He steps closer, running his hands on your biceps.

“So kiss me.”

“Why don’t you sit down and I’ll get you a glass of water, okay? A clean glass?” He gives you a jokey smile, trying to make you laugh.

You do your best to resist and shrug. “I don’t want a glass of water, I’m…” 

“You’re?”

You sigh deeply, fighting down your embarrassment as you half mumble. “Can we… can we do what we did… last time?”

He watches you softly, giving you time to make it clear what you really want.

You sigh again, practically a groan. And when you speak you purposefully look at the wall and not his stupidly handsome face. “Can we watch some porn and mess around?”

He smiles and nods. “You sure?” 

You give him a look. 

“Okay,” he giggles, “if you’re sure.” 

.

He brings you a glass of water in the promised clean glass anyway, and a packet of cookies. He places them in your hands before dragging over the small coffee table and putting it to your side of the sofa, then taking the packet and glass and putting them on there for you. 

Cecil grins when he’s finished, beaming like he’s worked out a partially difficult mental puzzle. You don’t want to find it as endearing as you do. 

He sits down next to you, grabbing his phone. “Anything you wanna watch?” 

You shrug, not quite expecting this direction. “Um, what would you recommend?” You want to smack yourself in the face, who the fuck asks someone what porn they would recommend? Like this was some fancy restaurant with a waiter giving you the wine list. ‘Oh yes, with the water and cookies, I’d recommend a nice fuck with a cum shot.’

“Well,” he shifts in his seat excitedly, “Actually, I watched some of this the other day, I thought it was good.”

Okay, maybe this was the place you came to to get porno recommendations.

“It’s a glory hole video, is that okay?”  He looks up at you sweetly, the earnestness in his eyes is bewitching.

You nod and swallow and his grin widens.

“Awesome.” He clicks the video, casting it to the TV. “Harry’s gonna be out until really late, so don’t worry about interruptions this time.”

You wiggle a little and nod again. This was a bad idea actually, wasn’t it? Now that you were thinking about it, it was a really bad idea. A really, really, really, really bad idea. You could forgive last week, that had been… that was an accident. This was… intentional. Fool me once, and all that. This was you going out of your way to-

“You’re wearing jeans, can I…?” He gave you those stupidly large puppy eyes, you could feel the yearning rolling off him in waves.

You nod, undoing your buttons and fly as he scrambles off the sofa onto his knees. He loops his fingers under your waistband and tugs when you raise your hips. 

He pulls your jeans down eagerly to your thighs, then grabs your panties, yanking them down as well and pulling both off your legs, leaving you completely bare from the waist down. 

You swallow, heat rising to your face. You hadn’t expected him to take everything off straight away. 

On the television a naked woman deepthroats a large cock that is pressing through a taped hole in a bathroom wall. She’s whining and slurping, her free hand between her legs. 

“Oh fuck,” Cecil breathes deeply, lightly pressing on your knees to spread your legs. “I was so right,” he bites his lip, groaning. “Such a pretty pussy, oh god.” He squeezes his cock through his sweats and gulps, closing his eyes for a second. “Prettiest I’ve ever seen, fuck.”

You swallow, holding your breath as he inches closer on his knees. 

He brushes the edge of his calloused thumb against your clit, seeming mesmerised as your muscles jump and twitch under his touch. 

“God, yeah.” He groans under his breath and presses firmer, lightly tracing the outline of the bundles of nerves before he rubs up and down and side to side.

You let out a little moan, your fingers digging into the cushions beside you.

Cecil lets out a long whine, “Oh, you’re so wet, I can see it.” He looks up at you from under his long eyelashes for a second before going back to your dripping cunt. “Looks amazing.”

He rubs his thumb constantly, oohing and ahhing softly at every minuscule movement.

Your breathing hitches, heat running along your skin and tightening in your belly. 

Ever so slowly he runs the fingers of his other hand up your leg and presses them to your aching slit, rubbing your lips and smearing your wetness all over your pussy. He groans when you twitch and moan softly, his eyes darkening rapidly second by second.

“Mmmmm,” he hums loudly, inching his fingers forward as his thumb rubs you, pushing them in a few centimetres before pulling them out and whining at the slick coating his skin. He pushes in deeper, firmly sheathing them all the way in one long move and curling them until your thighs jump and you gasp.

“Oh fuck, yes, yes, yes,” he groans, watching intently and then, “fuck, sorry, I gotta,” he darts forward, removing his thumb from your clit and kissing your folds.

You moan, back arching from the sofa, your hand flying to the back of his head to pull him closer and he whimpers, sucking your clit into his mouth and flicking the tip of his tongue back and forth.

“Cecil,” your whine harmonises with his as pleasure curls and spreads with every heavy pump and plunge of his fingers, with every caress of his tongue and lips. “Shit, that’s,” your words leave you breathlessly, your voice sounding completely wrecked already. “That’s really good, fuck, please,” you buck against his mouth, grinding up to his fingers as he works you over eagerly, rapidly bringing you closer and closer to your peak. 

Pleasure sings along every nerve, making your thighs shake and your eyes roll back as he groans and licks and sucks like you’re his only source of oxygen. 

You dig your fingers into his hair, scraping your nails lightly across his scalp, making him shiver and moan louder. 

Your mind is turning into mush, dissolving into nothing as your body races after your orgasm, demanding more and more and more from his sinful mouth. 

Part of you can’t work out how he got so good at this, how many pussys has he buried his face in? How could his ex dump him when he was this good? Fuck, even if you were tired of his shit you could just tie him to the bed and sit on his face for a few hours each day and that would more than make up for it. 

Cecil’s cock throbs, each moan that leaves your lips making him harder, needier. He can feel his precum soaking into his boxers as your slick drenches his chin. 

He shudders, so close to coming in his pants again and not giving one flying fuck.

“Cec,” Your grip on the back of his head tightens, your thighs shaking and tensing, your body rising up and against him. You’re so close, hanging right on the edge with his tongue flicking kitten licks in time with how his fingers rub against your walls, playing you perfectly to his will.

He hums against you, swirling his tongue and you scream, clenching around him as you come so hard. It washes over you, piercing your limbs and shocking every muscle with bliss. You shake, grinding against his mouth as he groans greedily. 

He pulls his fingers from your fluttering pussy, grabbing hold of the back of your thighs and just buries his face in your cunt. He laps and sinks his tongue deep inside, pressing the bridge of his nose against your clit and shaking his head from side to side ever so slightly as he drinks down every single drop of your release. Needing everything. 

He loosens his grip on you when you start to relax, your muscles untensing. He lets go, struggling with his waistband and pulling his sweatpants and boxers down just enough so that his thick cock springs free with a dull thud. He wipes his mouth and chin with the palm of his right hand before he grabs hold of his dick, using your cum as lubricant as he rapidly jerks himself off, his eyes rolling back.

His cock is so pretty, thick and long and ruddy red at the leaking, needy tip.

“Cecil,” you whine and his eyes snap open instantly, his hips jerking as he nears his peak. You bite your lip, fuck he looks so beautiful, sweaty and wanting and desperate. “Come on me.” You whisper. 

He groans, “On you?”

You spread your legs wider, pulling your legs up to your chest and holding them there. “Come on my pussy.” 

He sobs, standing so quickly he almost falls and has to grab hold of the back of the sofa with his free hand to stop himself from falling. He jerks once, twice, moaning so loudly as his hips move on autopilot and pleasure runs down his spine and explodes. He comes with a cry, shooting his load all over your pussy and the back of your thighs. 

He keeps coming, unable to stop as he spurts and splatters, painting your skin with his seed. 

He gasps, slumping forward for a second and breathing hard, “fuuuuuuucccck.” He whines, shivering with the aftershocks. 

You watch him with large eyes, mesmerised with how his lips are parted, how flushed his skin looks. Like some ancient painting of a god. 

Suddenly he drops to his knees again, pressing his palms to your legs to keep you folded over. 

“Cecil-” You yelp in surprise, about to ask what he’s doing when he shoves his tongue back into your core, slurping up the mess he made between your legs and sucking once more on your clit until you moan.

“Just cleaning up.” He mumbles, his voice thick with lust before he dives back in. 

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh

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If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

[oddeyes588]

gOD I'm eating so well today... we're finally getting some good characterization for Ruri and Rin... hell, it's incredible that we're getting some characterization for them AT ALL. I'm gonna ramble about it.

Ruri. Oh Ruri... it's genuinely so funny seeing her complete contrast with Yuto and Shun, who have all the dark and broodiness that comes with being characters who've been sharpened by the harsh edges of war. Yuto is in a bit of a middle-ground compared to Shun, but Ruri sits on the complete opposite end of the spectrum to her brother.

She's very chill and sweet, in stark contrast to Shun's tendency for rage and violence. Hell, she's the only one of the Xyz Trio who ISN'T glaring constant daggers at Dennis. She's sympathetic, and this goes in line with what we already knew about her. Having received the same teachings from Yusho as Yuya, she's pacifistic and hates the violent dueling that destroyed her home, as it's not what dueling is meant to be.

While Yuto and Shun get understandably hardened in order to do what is necessary to survive, Ruri doesn't want to lose what she loved about her home, and as such tries to maintain it. It's not like she let everything that happened slide off her back, she still has fear for Academia, but she's readily sympathetic, and it's honestly very sweet to see. While Yuto and Shun are still trying to adjust into the process of healing, Ruri is ready to dive in headfirst, because that's exactly what she was waiting for the whole time.

Basically, for having seen the Horrors of War, Ruri is handling herself remarkably well.

And at last... Rin. Rin is hilarious in a few ways, but to start with a more serious note...

It truly does speak to how good of a place Heartland was versus how shit of a place the City was from the get-go, because out of the two, Rin is somehow the more traumatized one? Not that anyone can blame her, since she grew up in a Capitalist Dystopia where you can be arrested and sent to a "correctional facility" indefinitely for the crime of, uh, trespassing on the property of the rich. Oh, and at the age of 14, too! Rin is often scared and fully ready to choose violence over it. Honestly, the idea that Rin's automatic reaction to somebody lunging out at her is to drive her knee into their stomach makes way too much sense... and it really speaks as to how little brain cells Yugo has that he doesn't learn his lesson, and keeps trying to hug her out of nowhere.

But with that said... god I love Rin, actually. Despite Yugo's inability to learn why you don't suddenly glomp somebody, she's got exactly the amount of "he's an idiot, but he's MY idiot" energy that we expected... by which I mean she has an ABSURD amount of that energy. She cares about Yugo just as much as he cares about her, though she shows it via the very hilarious method of affectionately dragging him at every opportunity.

And it's actually so great. I love her. Anyways! It's also neat to see how her overall focus is actually on a much smaller scale compared to everyone else. Yuzu has—or rather, had—obviously she asks about her home, asks how the Synchro Dimension is doing... and she's happy to hear that it's finally on the right track. But while the other three girls are somewhat vested in the fate of the universe(s), the state of their home, etc... Rin seems to focus a lot harder on the fact that she missed the Friendship Cup on account of being kidnapped at the time.

And while yes, there's a hint of tragedy to that considering that the losers of that particular tournament are all sent to an underground work facility to be worked until they die...

...her being lowkey SUPER competitive is a delight.

[absoluteocellibehavior]

I adore (1) Charlie Dowd. I believe that Charlie should be surrounded by pretty men and women and be loved and everything. Unfortunately, this leads to a lot of sad thoughts about Charlie's place in a relationship. Let me explain:

1.) Noel Finley - Call it an awakening for both of them. Charlie's first love though neither of them knew what to do with said feelings. They become police partners and are thick as thieves. They both end up getting drafted in The Great War and I am one to believe that the two of them were able to get a single picture of themselves away from everyone else while they were there. It's the only thing that Charlie has of them, and he carries the picture in his breast pocket. A bud snipped before it even had a chance to bloom.

2.) Roland and Delphine Cummings - This is a ship I was turned onto by @creekschaoscorner (thanks a lot for the brainrot, Graham /j). He and Roland connected fast. And throughout working together, they became closer and closer. Roland was already married and had a ten-year-old daughter. Charlie was reasonably nervous about playing around with Roland after hours but couldn't help the love that he felt for him. Delphine's no idiot though. She can see the affection in his husband's warm, dark eyes every time he looks at his partner. It's a look she knows well. She's the only that actually wrangles the two into a proper relationship and what a powerhouse they are. Charlie becomes another father figure to Amanda and cares for her like she's his own. However, there was a still nagging thought in the back of his mind that he would never ever have the security in that relationship that Roland and Delphine had. Leaving for Egypt is one of the toughest things he did, though he didn't anticipate that to be the last time he would say goodbye to them. His girlfriend's body in a freezer. His boyfriend's soul later ripped apart in front of his own eyes because he couldn't convince the King in Yellow he wasn't lying. And his surrogate daughter leaving his letters unanswered. He had lost everything again.

3.) Frank Underhill - Now this is a rarepair for sure that I don't admittedly have much for but was inspired by the Malevolent commentary in which there was a possibility for Frank to have helped Arthur in the Dreamlands and possibly into Season Three, filling that sort of "guide" role that Charlie does in Season Four. Additionally, we are unsure of how much time Frank spent in the Dreamlands so it's certainly possible that the two were in the Dreamlands together (despite the possibility of the two of them actually meeting being slim to none). In my mind, Charlie was able to get out of the grasp of the King in Yellow and stumbled across Frank in his attempt to escape. The two of them teamed up and assisted each other in their mutual goals. They spent months together, trying to survive the Dreamlands and exploring the vast expanse of it all. I don't know if we have a concrete canon depiction of the cause of Frank's death, but I do think that Charlie was there to witness it. Probably one of those self-sacrificial acts so that Charlie could have a chance of getting out. It's something that still haunts him.

4.) Dennis Collins (The Butcher) - I have two different takes on this. One, is the canon storyline in which Butcher gets his head exploded and another where he lives. In both cases, Dollins gives me a very very intimate and close friends with benefits vibe. It's playful and flirty but also deeply caring without there being the stress about labels or commitments. In the canon storyline, it is very similar to Noel in which they don't even have the chance for something to blossom. In the living storyline, Charlie wishes for something a little more after a while, but Dennis is far too nomadic in his living and job that he doesn't wish to "settle down" so to speak. So, they compromise as much as they can.

5.) Ourthur (Arthur/John/Oscar) - Charlie loves these three more than life. I always see this ship as Oscar and Charlie (Holy Ghosts) getting together first and then John and Arthur (Jarthur) join in later. I think Charlie is actually the one to recommend the relationship since he has experience with it (*motions to Roland and Delphine*) which makes this prospect even more painful. Between the three of them, Charlie is generally the one to compromise on his own romantic wants for the others. Arthur or John have intruded on his moments with one of the others multiple times and simply will give in for the others' happiness. He's not the first one that many of them come to for physical affections despite him being quite fond of it. But he loves them so much, nonetheless.

So, what trend do we see here? There's two the pop out in my mind. The first is the fact that Charlie feels an immense guilt and responsibility for the deaths of his previous partners. There's a part of him that feels as though their ties to him is what caused their deaths even though he couldn't do anything about them. There's a hesitance in him getting into other relationships because of this fear that he's going to end up killing them too. Secondly, is the idea that Charlie feels like he consistently is second in a relationship. He doesn't have the stability that Roland and Delphine have, he knows that Dennis is going to prioritize himself over Charlie, and he's generally not the first one thought of in the Ourthur relationship. It's something that pains him but maybe it's for the best as it may be the only thing keeping them alive. At least in his mind.

Enjoy the Charlie angst! Kisses <3

[fitz-higgins]

LGBT literature of the 1860s–1910s. Part 5

After a long pause, the list is back! Here we have a couple of plays, accounts by two trans women, lesbian poetry, and more.

1. Despised and Rejected, by A.T. Fitzroy (Rose Allatini; 1918). A pacifist novel published during World War One? With gay and lesbian characters? Yes, that was sure to get people in trouble. Its publisher was fined and the judge called it “morally unhealthy and most pernicious”. So, Dennis is a young composer who hates violence and therefore refuses to go to war. He also suffers because he is a “musical man”, that is, gay, and loves Alan, art-loving son of a wealthy businessman. His friend Antoinette, meanwhile, is “strangely attracted” to a woman. Nevertheless, the two attempt to love each other. When the war begins, Alan appears in Dennis’ life again, and they try to avoid being sent to the front together. Alan also persuades Dennis to accept who he is. Edward Carpenter himself defended the novel, saying that “the book is also a plea for toleration of a very much misunderstood section of humanity”. Read online

2. Autobiography of an Androgyne, by Ralph Werther (1918). Ralph Werther, also known as Jennie June, wrote this autobiography for doctors, and it is very revealing. Being a New York fairy (male prostitute) and possibly a trans woman, they tell frankly about the city’s gay underworld of the early 20th century and their personal experience, which is sometimes too frank and dark perhaps, but all the more interesting. Read online 

3. Poems by Mikhail Kuzmin. Kuzmin was not just the author of Russia’s first gay novel, but also a poet. Many of his works were dedicated to or mentioned his lovers. I’d recommend Where Will I Find Words (in English and Russian), Night Was Done (both in English and Russian), from the 1906-1907 collection Love of This Summer (available fully in Russian), mostly based on his love affair with Pavel Maslov in 1906. And also If They Say (in English and Russian), which is a great statement.

4. The Loom of Youth, by Alec Waugh (1917). A semi-biographical novel based on Evelyn Waugh’s older brother’s experience at Sherborne School in Dorset. It is a story of Gordon Caruthers’ school years, from the age of 13 to 19, and it is full of different stories typical for public schools, be it pranks and cheating exams or dorm life and sports. Although the homosexual subject was quite understated, the author implied that it was a tradition and open secret in public schools. The book became popular and soon caused a great scandal. Worth noting that before that Alec was expelled for flirting with a boy.  Read online 

5. Two Speak Together, by Amy Lowell (1919). Lowell was a famous American poet and lesbian. Many of her poems were dedicated to her lover, actress Ada Dwyer Russell, specifically the section Two Speak Together from Pictures of the Floating World. These poems are infused with flower imagery, which wasn’t uncommon for lesbian poetry of the time. Read online

6. De berg van licht/The Mountain of Light, by Louis Couperus (1905-1906). Couperus is called the Dutch Oscar Wilde for a reason: this is one of the first decadent novels in Dutch literature. It is also a historical one, telling about a young androgynous Syrian priest Heliogabalus who then becomes a Roman Emperor. Homoerotism, hedonism, aestheticism: Couperus creates a very vivid world of Ancient Rome. He also covered the topic of androgyny in his novel Noodlot, which was mentioned in Part 3 of this list. Read online in Dutch��

7. Frühlings Erwachen/Spring Awakening/The Awakening of Spring, by Frank Wedekind (1891, first performed in 1906). This play criticized the sexually oppressive culture prevalent in Europe at the time through a collection of monologues and short scenes about several troubled teens. Each one of them struggles with their puberty, which often leads to a tragic end. Like in The Loom of Youth, homosexuality is not the central focus of the play, but one character, Hänschen, is homosexual and explores his sexuality through Shakespear and paintings. The play was later turned into a famous musical. Read online in German or in English

8. Twixt Earth and Stars, by Radclyffe Hall (1906). Though it wasn’t known to many at the time, these poems were dedicated to women, some to Hall’s actual lovers. Read online

9. The Secret Confessions of a Parisian: The Countess, 1850-1871, by Arthur Berloget (published in 1895). This account is similar to the Autobiography of an Androgyne, albeit shorter. The author nowadays is thought to be a trans woman. They describe their love for women’s dresses, the euphoria from wearing dresses, makeup and wigs, the life as a “female impersonator” in Parisian cafe-concerts, and their love affair with a fellow prisoner. The autobiography is not available online, but you can read it in Queer Lives: Men’s Autobiographies from Nineteenth-Century France by William Peniston and Nancy Erber.

10. At Saint Judas’s, by Henry Blake Fuller (1896). This is possibly the first American play about homosexuality. It is very short. An excited groom is waiting for his wedding ceremony in the company of his gloomy best man. They are former lovers, and this short scene is not going to end well… Read online

Previous part is here

[nicki-lewis903]

A show that’s perfect from start to finish is rare; but when you find one you can’t help recommending it. For me that show is unquestionably Derry Girls.

I had the honor of discovering this show last summer after coming home from a trip and feeling a little worn out; so I sat down and decided to just binge some Netflix.

The show’s premise is about five teenage friends living in Ireland during the civil war along with their families, not to mention the many other things that can occur in your teen years. Like trying to get money for a school trip, having to pass a test or even first love. But nothing these five get into ever turns out all wrapped in a bow to look pretty.

Every character in the show is fleshed out enough to make their stories even more relatable to the viewers; they are not perfect or even unlikable. They’re human and flawed which is why every character in this show is a joy to watch. In fact this is one show where I can’t pinpoint a favorite character because each has something unique to bring.

The comedy in the show is also top notch in my opinion; it’s not easy to predict what will happen. You may think the joke will pan out one way but the writers have a different outcome entirely. But one thing I also love is the fact the comedy is so balanced between the drama of what was actually happening during those times. One shot will show the five friends laughing or dancing together and then it cuts to a significant moment during the war.

One of the most wonderful and realistic moments comes from and interaction between the main protagonist Erin Quinn and her best friend Clare Devlin. I won’t spoil it but the final episode of season one between these two had a moment that is something so real for that time period and the acting in that moment between the two actresses Saorirse-Monica Jackson and Nicola Coughlan was beautifully done.

The family and townspeople of Derry are also a joy to watch; from Granda Joe and Gerry bickering, Sister Michael’s ruthless sarcasm, Aunt Sarah not being fully aware of what’s happening in that moment or social cues, Uncle Colm’s stories and unhinged shop owner Dennis. The whole town is unique and honestly has someone that we all knew just like that as kids.

Every season finale will be sure to bring a tear to you in some way, like I said the writers did a beautiful job balancing the humor with the historical events and drama. However the series finale monologue is one of the most beautiful summaries not only to what these characters went through but what everyone experiences in those years going from a teenager just enjoying life to having to grow up and knowing that things won’t be the same.

It’s definitely one of the best shows I’ve ever watched, probably the series I quote the most and is a show I never tire of watching. If you’ve never seen it but have a love for comedy it’s worth checking out. Maybe like for me this show will be your comfort series that brings you infinite joy and laughter when things get tough.

[zahri-melitor]

Hey, sorry to bother you but I was wondering, based on your latest post, if you have any Leslie Thompkins recommend reads? I'd like to read more about her but I don't really have the time to read everything she has been on and those are the only reading guides I seem to able to find. Thank you in advance.

Oooh, Leslie recs. Leslie is a Dennis O'Neil creation, which means a lot of her best stories are actually found in the period when O'Neil was head of the Bat office. A lot of his characters got expanded, made more complex and given more importance because Bat writers were suck ups respected Denny and liked to acknowledge his impact on the broader narrative.

Recs can be a bit hard, as she's often in the middle of other stories, and the additional context adds a lot, but for my mind, here's a bunch of suggestions (with explanations beside them):-

A bunch of the earlier stories are sort of repetitive, and pre-Crisis Leslie is not quite the same character as post-Crisis Leslie. If you want a taste, Batman #457, "There is No Hope in Crime Alley" gives you the initial premise of Leslie as the woman who was there to comfort Bruce immediately after his parents were shot, and who is a committed pacifist interested only in helping the community.

However, a better start would probably be Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight #21-23. Mike Barr's essentially the creator of the concept of Leslie Thompkins' Clinic (it first features in the last page of his Batman Year Two), and this story both retells Leslie and Bruce's history together, but also wrestles with how Leslie sees both Bruce and Batman and their violence, and her desire to help fix the city in a pacifist, hands-on manner.

There's some good stuff in Knightquest actually but extracting it is a bit of a mess: you want Batman #505 and Batman: Shadow of the Bat #26 & 27. I'm a big fan of the Abattoir arc in Knightquest, which this forms part of, and this is about Leslie's work helping underprivileged kids in Gotham - in this case counselling some traumatised Wayne Foundation kids.

Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight #118: This is a No Man's Land story set in Leslie's refugee camp where Alfred comes to tell stories to the kids. Just a good look at the work Leslie was doing.

Batman Chronicles #18 "Spiritual Currency": this is one of the stories I referenced. Set during No Man's Land, it's an argument between Leslie and Bruce over her treating Zsasz, who is badly injured. Probably my favourite encapsulation of Leslie's personal philosophy.

Gotham Knights #7: part of the 'Bruce interrogates his psyche and connections to those he's close to' arc that ends in Transference. This one's about Leslie and Alfred's feelings over caring for Bruce.

Detective Comics #791-793: I wouldn't say these are the best Leslie Thompkins stories in existence, but I will say the discussions between Leslie and Bruce in them are on point, and are part of the lead in to where War Games ends up. Enjoy them for Leslie's philosophy, sigh deeply at the inherent racism.

War Games, in particular War Crimes, are a massive part of the Leslie narrative but also where a lot of problems arise. War Games in and of itself would be okay, and her fight with Bruce while she's treating Steph is quite in line with the story immediately above; it's War Crimes that really contains the massive retcon that does a lot of harm to Leslie's character.

As far as post-return to Gotham preboot stories, I think the best ones are actually her appearances in the Hit List of Red Robin #15-16. Leslie's got the Cavalier working for her to protect the clinic! Her comments to Tim when he protests it are so Leslie.

New 52 Leslie is essentially a different character; she's premised as a social worker who works with Julie Madison and is assigned to Duke Thomas among others.

In Rebirth she's returned to being the Leslie of preboot. Her better stories are the following:-

The Victim Syndicate in Detective Comics #943-947: The first victims of various villains want to remove the Bats from Gotham. Leslie, Steph and Harper Row are quite interesting in this in terms of a narrative over different ways to help Gotham.

Detective Comics #964 "Dystopia": Leslie is involved in Lonnie Machin's premised underground anarchist commune for the underprivileged. Follows up on the earlier story.

Punchline #1 and The Joker #1-15: this is a long arc about Leslie and the Rows working to have Punchline tried properly in court as complicit in her actions. It's the backup story to the Joker and it's been published separately as a trade.

[cyberdragoninfinity]

ok so multiple folks have been curious about dimensionswap AU fusion!yugo and like. What the Hell is Going On With Him so. here's a loose bit of a rundown of some of his. Things Going On 🙃 AMONG OTHER THINGS:

yeah so fusion!yugo is DEEPLY unsocialized animal. He, as is a running theme with the Fusion Dimension kids, is an atrociously lonely victim of the Academia War Cult, but with a dash of "Leo Akaba is scared of him and paranoid and has put extra effort into exerting his authority over him and keeping Yugo "contained."

(Leo actually tried to throw Yugo into the ocean when he was like 6 to kill him and it didn't work (Yugo's dragon saved him <3)

(Yugo doesn't remember that part though :[ )

He's spent most of his life being chronically ignored and kept away from other people, locked up in his dorm (or. cage. sometimes. 😬) or at the mercy of DA's questionable teaching staff. He's only really been allowed to 'play' with other kids if he's dueling them (especially when staff uses him as this sort of wild Academia boogeyman that students have to try to avoid in hunting game drills.) (there's a nonzero chance theyre kind of hoping he'll just get himself killed and save themselves a whole lot of trouble) Yugo doesn't really know how to interact with people beyond treating them like a game to win. He likes games. He's good at those!! :)

He's still got that sort of energetic competitive spirit and doofus blockhead energy of regular Yugo, but it's a lot quieter and toned down after years of..discipline from his teachers. There's also this sort of aggression and overconfidence to it. If he deems his opponent as not worth his time he'll barely give them his attention, ignoring them and fussing with his various games and puzzles instead. god fucking help you if fusion!yugo deems you 'boring' lol

he can see duel spirits and talks to his monsters <3 He considers them his closest friends.

in general his dragon's two main forms emulate two big elements of his character--Shattered Wing Fusion Dragon's wings are broken, and it can only drag itself across the ground to pursue opponents; Yugo's been 'grounded' by his circumstances and he's starting to chew his own leg off about it. He's going stir crazy. And then Shattered Wing's 'evolved' form, Perfect-Wing Fusion Dragon, has freaky radioactive uranium glass wings made of different mismatched chunks forcefully fused together--Yugo is kind of chasing perfection way more than he lets on; he thinks often if he was just a little Better, a Little More Perfect then maybe people will care about him. Maybe he can make DA properly proud. And he's willing to jam whatever square pegs into round holes he needs to to achieve it. He doesn't need anyone. He can do it all HIMSELF.

(fusing with the other yuboys is a terrifying prospect for him. to go from so so alone for so long to being absorbed into Never Being Alone Again. He never actually manages to absorb anyone himself but if he did it would probably be like Yuri in canon where the other yuboy just experiences complete ego death and Doesnt Exist Anymore.)

the shit that goes on in Fusion in this AU is a story for another time there's like 18 different things going on in there but Yugo does get the distinct good fortunate to get to kill Leo himself after the bastard tries to flee the arc reactor room and declan and the bgirls Get His Ass<3 W for yugo

postcanon dswap yugo makes me a little sicko insane he just makes me SAD. kid who still doesn't really know how to interact with people. kid who kind of isnt very sorry for any of the questionable shit he did (kid who cant even really wrap his head around how anything he did was 'wrong' anyway and is getting increasingly frustrated that people seem upset with him??! HE DIDNT DO ANYTHING :/) he ends up striking up a weird friendship with dennis as theyre the last two real 'soldiers of DA who dont know what to do with themselves now that the war is over and have trouble conceiving of themselves as "people." they hang out and play games and beat the shit out of each other like the world's dumbest fight club. do not get me started on them. <--*the only insane bitch invested in dennis and yugo friendship*

here's a baby fusion!yugo and shattered wing's card...he's been alone for a long time but thats ok. he has his friends in his deck :,) thats all he needs. he can take care of himself.

[redbullgivesyouwingedkuriboh]

Since y’all liked me getting beaten down by GX characters so much, here’s:

Yu-Gi-Oh ARC-V Characters ranked by how easily I could take them in a fight

same rules apply: fisticuffs only and my personal feelings about the characters do not matter

also since ARC-V is WEIRD AF when it comes to characters this will be characters that are exclusive to ARC-V. so no repeat of Asuka. We already know I bite harder than she does.

without further ado, here we go:

Reira Akaba. No shit. is literally a baby. if I was a baby kicking kind of person I could punt her into the sun. However as I do not kick babies I am more inclined to wrap her in a lil blanket and put her in the corner.

Yuya Sakaki. Bitch. One good step on his toes and he’s going “reaction shot?!” I pull on his stupid fuckin goggles and snap them back onto his face. he’s down. count to ten.

Yuzu Hiragi. Canonically the bracelet girls really suck at holding their own at any given moment. Yuzu is the weakest physically because she has never seen war or hardship to the level of the other three. I could take her in four seconds. pigtail tug time.

Yuri. The second weakest physically of the Yu boys. has been coddled by Leo for years. probably sparred with Sho at the academy to make himself feel better about having 0% body weight from muscles. eat shit you purple motherfucker.

Dennis McField. not only would I beat him, I would enjoy doing it. I’d love to curbstomp that motherfucker off a boat, except he already did that to himself. physically he is a fuckin twig and I am five feet seven inches of pure unadulterated god complex. he’ll wish I turned his ass into a card.

Reiji Akaba. the scarf works to his detriment. I do two laps around him holding the end of that thing and suddenly his face is turning blue and he’s calling for papa. unfortunately for him I have zero mercy.

Rin. again, the bracelet girls are notoriously bad at being strong independent women. we literally don’t see Rin for most of the series because she got herself kidnapped off the cuff. that being said she could probably hold her own against me, but I think she’s too sweet for that.

Z-ARC. We’ve established I bite. even outside of human form, if you look at him, he’s got a fuck ton of exposed veins, both as regular Z-ARC and Yuya Z-ARC. chompy chompy motherfucker you’ll pass out from the blood loss before I can kick your ass properly.

Yugo. Canonically relies on his motorcycle for fuckin everything. lost to Yuri because he rolled a nat one on his constitution saving throw. even though he’s probably physically in shape from motorcycle stuff I could flick him in the forehead and he’d be whining like a baby. If I got the first shot in, I’d have a 99% chance of winning. If he got to me first it would go to about 60%. again, I bite.

Leo Akaba. Here’s where we get into characters that have a greater than 50% chance of beating me. Leo is canonically ripped and also has zero emotions. I would only win if I got close enough for a nut kick, but there’s only one person who wants to be that close to Leo Akaba and it sure as hell ain’t me.

Sora Shuin’in. Holy fuck who let their feral cat off its leash. Sora is literally insane and I am requesting backup. He’d shove that lollipop so far up my ass that I’d be able to tell whether it was lime or green apple. I live in fear of Sora suddenly materializing in my room

Ruri Kurosaki. Remember how I bite? She bites harder. She puts up with No Shit and also has No Fucks To Give.

Serena. No further explanation needed. I fear that explaining it further would cause Feral Child #2 to burst into my brain and start kicking.

Yusho Sakaki. Sweet mother of blue eyes white dragon. remember how I said my personal feelings don’t matter? now they do. smash. next question. wait what were we talking about?

Shun Kurosaki. kinda lost the plot on Yusho but we’re back on track now. Shun canonically took out armed guards by Batmanning his ass up a wall. There’s posters up for him that say “lost dog” and the caption is just “if you find him please keep him”.

Yuto. Everything that Shun is + Ruri taught him how to effectively bite.

Noburu Gongenzaka. he is actually ripped and wears cement shoes for funzies. he could probably just stomp once and my shaky joints would give out on their own. bye.

Yoko Sakaki. canonically beat the stuffing out of people in her past life and I would let her. angry mom energy means I barely make it out alive. smash. wait— shit—

[cowboy-robooty]

hello robooty i am one of ur yaoilings

i saw you in my dream. we were in an art class together and you got so mad at me you started ripping your hair out

anyways who were you in the love triangle? deku uke or todoroki seme?

thats beautiful and quite realistic since in real life when i get really stressed out i actually do grip my hair like a danganronpa sprite.

So you see it wasn’t actually a love triangle… more like an angle? Because in my life my best friend and boyfriend are two seperate types of love that are equally as important to me (highest level of platonic love and highest level of romantic love. equally important). Now my best friend and boyfriend are just one person (SO MUCH EASIER NOW OMFG ESPECIALLY BECAUSE HES A CRAZY AND INSANE YANDERE) but back then it was two seperate people who were BOTH insane crazy yanderes and i was lowkey in some isekai harem shit (the professional yandere fumbler in bio doesn’t lie). I dont want to share lots of details about everything that went down but it was insane. We all lived far away and at one point tried looking up online couples therapy not for me and my (EX TO BOTH) bestfriend/boyfriend but for the (EX TO BOTH) best friend and boyfriend because they were fighting like cats and dogs every other week and they only kept trying so hard to be close to eachother because they understood i was like “bro you have to accept this is your equal or im not going to have you in my number one spot. you deal with it or we cant work” but also were too jealous to let someone be that close to me without that person being under personal surveillence so it just ended in constant war where it was agreed that anytime I intervened it just made things worse so I’d sit and watch this happen like the furry divorce picture. These mfs were true yanderes too like wiener is also an Actual Real Yandere i dont know how i keep finding individuals like this. call me lt tsurumi i swear to god. for the first few sessions my ex boyfriend’s therapist thought I was abusive because of how delusionally obsessed he was with me until they would be like “does he force you to only be friends with him?” and then my ex would respond “oh my god I WISH HE WOULD. *eyeroll* Instead he keeps telling me that I need to make other friends and that I can’t only hang out with him!” and she was like okay actually my client is the insane one here. And she also laughed at him because he explained how jealous he felt of Germany and was like “AND WHEN WE MOVE IN TOGETHER HE WANTS TO KEEP THE BODY PILLOW IN OUR BED!”. Like reportedly she was aghast by what was going on because it was a real life its always sunny in philadelphia gang. Where I’m charlie. (watch macs banging the waitress for reference). So i hope that answers your question because I think maybe mac charlie dennis is a better descriptor of what was going on.

[assortedseaglass]

The Seamstress & The Sailor - Chapter Seven

Tom Bennett x OFC

[Masterlist]

Warnings: Language, World On Fire Spoilers

Word Count: 3.7K

Note: I like to imagine the banner is of Tom writing letters in his bunk. Can't wait for Chapter Eight!

November 1939

Dear Tom,

Another letter, I am impressed.

This one almost slipped me by – Dot opened the door when Dennis Warley came by with the post. I wanted to make some new trousers and ordered a pattern from the haberdashers, and it came with your letter. Apparently he said it’s good men don’t want me because dadda has someone to look after him when he’s old. You know what Dot’s like. Cora said she launched herself at Dennis and the post almost wasn’t delivered.

Her and Cora are still at the factory, though missing your Lois and Connie enormously. We had a letter from Albie yesterday. He’s in France now, helping with the refugees from Poland. Luckily he’s not been in too much danger. With them and Albie off in Europe, and you at sea, our world has become a little lonelier.

There was a dance the other night at The Palais, though the women outranked the men by about four to one. Makes a change. There is a great deal less drunkenness and wandering hands, but we do miss you all. And I’d happily exchange Walter Watson. I don’t suppose you’ll have heard about that? Was in France for two weeks and got invalided out. Not shot by the enemy like he told us, worst luck. Albie said in his letter that Walter was having it off with a Polish girl when her father found them. Well, he’s come back with his arm in a sling and is somehow as handsy as ever. Tried to put his hand up my skirt. Even Queenie Warren told him where to go. She’s been ever so down in the mouth since you all left, men were her sole source of entertainment, though I heard her and Frank Smith have been writing.

Cora is blue as well. Her Roger has been training every hour God sends. They’re expecting the RAF to start regular flights, though what, we’re not allowed to know. I suppose, that’s my main news – Roger got me a job at the Air Transport Auxiliary. I’m making planes, constructing the wings mostly. I love the smell of the metal and the oil, and working with my hands. Roberta is here too, though she’s driving the goods vans. Hattie and Jude have left to help the Land Army prepare for spring. They’re not too far away but they work round the clock.

I was listening to the wireless when I got your letter. There have been rumours that the government will ask most women to do war work next year. There goes the hope we’d be down Belle Vue in the spring. I’m glad, though, that the government has realised we are capable of lifting more than a hairbrush and lipstick, even if it has come at the cost of war. We’re more than just objects to colour men’s lives. Perhaps with all this war work, more of us will start wearing trousers and Dennis Warley can piss off. They mentioned rationing, too. Think it’ll affect the likes of Robina Chase more than us, but I don’t think Dadda will manage without sugar in his tea. Heaven forbid they cut eggs and bacon. Of course, that’ll mean no new clothes for a long while. I don’t mind but Dot will be distraught.

Dadda’s been spending a lot of time with yours. They go out on these long walks round the dockyard. Sometimes they even stay up later than me. I can see them in your kitchen, just talking. It did make me laugh the other day – sat there in their chairs by the fire, they look just like Mrs O’Connell and Mrs Flaherty down the road. But then I suppose, they have each other because they lost their husbands. Now, our dads’ have each other because you and Albie have gone.

What is it like there? I want to hear everything. How are the other lads? I hope you’re getting along. There’s a map on the wall at the factory and when I look at all that ocean, I imagine you in a little paper boat skittering across is. There’s not a day that goes by when I don’t think of Albie, and of you. Do you think His Majesty will let you home for Christmas? Good for morale to let his soldiers come home. We’re hoping Albie will.

I had the thought that I should speak in letters from now on. Everyone is always telling me how quiet I am, yet here I’ve been writing pages and pages to you. I know I’m not good at talking, not like the others, but I can say it here – I miss you. Please, for me and for your dad, keep yourself safe. And write again soon.

Your friend,

Bess.

P.S. Make sure you write to Douglas, he’s suffering from missing you both.

Bess placed the finished letter in its envelope and wrote the address.

Tom Bennett

HMS Exeter

c/o Royal Navy Auxiliary

Portsmouth

Once the ink was dry and she had traced her finger over his name once or twice, Bess ate the remaining crust of her toast, drew on her blue jumper and cycled to the Air Transport Auxiliary factory. Straddling the cool metal of the planes as she drove nuts and bolts into their wings, Bess thought of her mother. She and Douglas had been courting during the Great War, but unlike Bess and her sisters, all she had to do with her time was wait. Wait for Douglas to come home with nothing else to occupy her thoughts. Bess was sick with worry, so much so that when she woke in the mornings without the churning of her stomach, she felt something was wrong. It wasn’t until sleep had faded and she remembered the war that the feeling returned, and she felt normal again. These few hours of respite at the factory, while they didn’t sway her fear, certainly calmed her. And who knows where these planes might go? Over the heads of Albie, or Tom, defending them from above? Into sun-kissed clouds, skirting heaven? And here she was, one of the girls making them fly.

By the time Bess finished her shift, grey clouds were low over Manchester and night was descending.

“Do you want a lift honey? Looks like it’s gonna chuck it down.” Roberta asked as they left the hangar. Bess declined, and they went their separate ways. Along with the other women, all covered in dirt and sweat, she meandered towards the factory gate, where a group of jeering men stood in a circle. At their feet, someone was on the floor, scrabbling to reach paper that was blowing away in the wind. As she got closer, Bess saw that they were boys, not yet eighteen perhaps. Except for one. Walter Watson.

“You’re a fucking disgrace,” he was saying to the man on the floor. “Handing out that horse shit.” The boys around Walter laughed. As they did so, the man on the ground stood. He was taller and broader than them, his face craggy with woe and as he turned, Bess saw the weary eyes of Douglas Bennett. She continued walking forward as passers-by ignored the altercation.

“Fucking coward,” one of the boys said. “Stood here selling your fucking peace paper when our lads are out fighting for their lives. For your life!” The youth jabbed bony his finger into Douglas’ chest. Bess was feet from them now, and still Douglas did nothing. It made her proud not to see him back down.

It was easy to infiltrate the circle; she was the smallest of this beastly party and each man was too focused on their abuse of Douglas to notice.

“You know Walter got shot!?”

“That’s not what I heard.”

They froze, and every face turned slowly towards her. Grease streaked her face and she reeked of metal and oil. The hands that had been folded across her chest slipped into her pockets and she leant slightly on one leg, hip jutting just enough to remind them of her womanhood. Some of the younger boys, who knew Bess only by her reputation, swallowed. Walter, who had known Bess long enough to watch her grow from witchy little girl to one of the most bewitching women in Longsight, looked ready to combust. Caught somewhere between anger and fear.

“Our Albert said a Polish fella broke your arm when he caught you balls deep in his daughter.”

Walter spluttered and his gang of underlings remained silent, shocked by the coarseness of her language. Douglas laughed.

“Did he really?” His smile was broad as he looked at Bess and she beamed back. She snatched the papers that Walter held in his hand and passed them to Douglas. Neither spoke and the argument was won; one by one, the boys shuffled home.

When the last of them had disappeared from sight, Douglas spoke. “Thanks, love.” Bess merely shrugged and began walking away. “If you’re heading home I’ll give you a lift.”

“Free bus ticket?” Bess said.

“No,” Douglas laughed quietly, and walked towards the bike resting against the factory wall. “Hop on.” He held the bike still as she perched on the handlebars and leant back against his shoulder. Bess shrieked at the first few wobbly turns of the pedal as Douglas adjusted to both of their weight, but soon, they were racing along the streets of Manchester towards home. “Used to take Lois home like this if she’d had a long shift.”

They were silent for the rest of the journey. Occasionally, they saw someone they knew and Bess would wave. From behind her, Douglas touched his cap. When she hopped of the bike outside her house, she turned to Douglas. “How is Lois getting on?”

“They’re working her hard. It’s an awful lot of toing and froing between camps. But she said she gets a thrill from singing for everyone. Nice to be doing her bit, you know.” He looked at the ground as he spoke, and Bess hummed.

“And Tom?” Bess tried to keep her voice measured.

“Barely hear from him. Last letter said he was on shore leave for a day or two, enjoying himself too much, no doubt”.

“I’m sure they’re fine, they can look after themselves.” He nodded solemnly. “Goodnight, Douglas.”

✼　 　✼　 　✼　 　✼　 　✼　 　✼

Over the next few weeks Bess developed a routine that, while unable to ease her worry, made the time go faster. It went thus; each morning she arose before her family, as always, and began breakfast. Cora would join her, and together they fed the family before each parting ways to their various jobs. Between nine and five, she worked at the factory. Lunchtimes were taken at the dockyard with Fergal. At five o’clock she helped Douglas Bennett hand out Peace News, and at six he cycled them home. The evenings she wasn’t with Roberta, Hattie and Jude, or repairing clothes (she had taken the task to make a little more money), she spent at the Bennett house. Be it cooking dinners, listening to Douglas’ opinions on the government and the war, or simply sitting in amicable silence, Bess found she increasingly enjoyed his company.

She had always liked Douglas. When the children were little Fergal, Etta, Douglas and Marie had taken them on picnics to Blackpool or Southport. Tom and Albie always ran into the surf and terrorised Cora and Lois. Dot was still small, making sandcastles while Etta and Marie talked the day away. Inevitably, Bess found herself trailing Douglas as he pointed out patterns in the clouds or interesting shells. Even now, Bess was drawn in by the gentle eyes set in his stoic face. The small smiles he offered when something had pleased him. The unshakable sense that maybe, just maybe, Douglas Bennett was the best of men.

Tonight was no different. Bess sat in a chair opposite Douglas, finishing some silk stockings for Queenie Warren. How she had been able to afford them, God only knew, but Bess enjoyed the feel of them slipping over her skin like water. Douglas was reading the newspaper. Every now and then, when Bess paused to rest her eyes, she caught Douglas glancing into the middle distance.

“Memories or visions?” she asked him softly. He sighed and removed his glasses.

“These days, they all blur into one horrible nightmare.” The silence resumed. Bess cast aside the stockings and took Douglas’ hand in hers, gently rubbing it with her thumb. He studied her a moment.

“You’re an odd lass,”

“So people say,”

“And a kind one.” She paused her movements and looked at him. “You should be spending time with people your own age, not barmy old men like me.”

“You’re not old. And I like spending time with you.” It wasn’t a lie. Douglas was a quiet, calm realist much like herself. Perhaps, if she had been born fifty, even thirty years ago, she would have liked him more. A thought occurred to her.

“I think you and Tom are more alike than either of you care to admit.”

Douglas huffed by way of a reply, then spoke. “He’s more like his mother than me. They both are. I don’t suppose you remember our Marie too much?”

“I remember her laugh, and that mam loved her.”

“Yeah,” he smiled and looked at Bess’ hand stroking his own. “Everyone did.” He paused once more before continuing. “What if Tom ends up like me, Bess?”

“What do you me-”

“What if he comes back from this God-awful war a shadow of himself? He’s so bright and full of life, like his mother, what if it disappears? If he comes back at all-”

Bess thought about her next words carefully. “We can’t know if they’ll come back. Tom, Lois or Albie. But we can live in the knowledge that death won’t diminish our devotion to them. You and I may not agree with war, but they’ve gone not because they blindly followed everyone else, but because they want to defend those who can’t defend themselves. And I am so proud of them. My Albie, and Lois and Tom.”

They were silent for a while as Douglas considered her words. Then, quite unexpectedly, he kissed her hand and placed his own on her cheek. The image of his son flashed across his face and Bess blushed.

“Off you go, Bess. Your family will be missing you.” The abruptness of their evening’s end took Bess by surprise, but she gathered her sewing, kissed Douglas’ cheek and left.

Dot was warming her feet by the fire when she opened the door. Cora was reading next to her.

“Dadda’s down the pub,” Dot spoke without looking up. “But you’ve stolen his drinking partner.” Cora pushed Dot’s leg with her foot, not looking up from her book.

“What do you mean, Dot?” Bess was in no mood to argue. Dot looked her sister dead in the eye.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Douglas.”

“Yes?”

“It’s not proper,”

“For God’s sake,”

“All these men on the go,”

“Me and Douglas are not ‘on the go’. And which men!?”

“There’s a letter on the bed for you.”

Bess’ heart stopped. “A letter?”

“Yes. Another letter.” Dot tried to sound aloof but her need for gossip got the better of her and she sat up in the chair. “Who’s writing to you, Bess? That man Tom punched?” She received no answer, for Bess was racing up the stairs to their bedroom. The letter was set against her pillow, and at seeing the familiar scrawl of her name, her heart leapt. Bess ripped open the envelope and found her seat in the window.

Dear Bess,

Thanks for your letter. Your writing is doing wonders for my reputation – the other boys don’t get half as many as I do, and most of them are from their mams. We’ve got a wall full of pictures that girls have sent the lads. Fancy sending one to add? Maybe you all oiled up at the factory. Lot of lonely sailors in need of entertainment, and God knows ENSA won’t be sent out here.

I wish I could be down The Palais. Not because I miss the dancing mind. We’ve not seen a woman for weeks and the thought of them all dancing together makes me weak in a way that has nothing to do with my sea legs. Tell us about it in your next letter, with all the details. Which reminds me, lay off Queenie Warren. I know she’s annoying but she means well. I don’t think you know how intimidating The Vaughn Sisters are!   

I’m writing this as we come into dock. Can’t tell you where exactly we are, for obvious reasons, but I’m looking forward to putting my feet on solid ground for a few days. Resupply means shore leave. I know you’d spend it looking in museums, walking and hunting down fabric, but for sailors it’s a different game altogether. It’ll be straight to the pub for rum and beer, before hitting the town. All hands on deck there, if you see what I mean.

I’m getting along with the other lads just fine, thank you for your confidence. I’ve got plans to spend shore leave with Vic and Norman. Vic’s Mancunian too, reminds me a bit of your Albie. Head screwed on proper and he’d have your back in a fight. You’d like him. Norman’s a little green, but Vic and I will put him right. Said we’d bring him to Longsight when we’re home, I have a feeling Dot would eat him up. He’d love it. She likes a fella she can boss around doesn’t she, your Dot? Norman will probably bring Terry along – he’s the wireless operator. Wouldn’t say boo to a goose, which is unfortunate considering he’s in the navy.

You’ll be glad to hear I’ve kept out of trouble, though Campbell and Ginger have me contemplating the many uses of hawser every now and again. Campbell’s First Officer, decent enough bloke but he’s a posh twat. Doesn’t know how to speak to us but God, he does try. Ginger’s actually called Henry. From the East End and thinks he’s a real geezer. Always bossing Norman around and lording it over the rest of us – he was an Able Seaman before the war so even though we’re all the same rank he thinks he can give us orders. No-one would care if I pushed him off the dock so I might give it a go. Burn this letter in case they catch me, it’s evidence.

Sounds like Walter has had all hands on deck too. Surprised he managed to pull a girl, didn’t think the bloke could kick his way out of a wet paper bag. I have half a mind to kill him before the Jerries do. If his arm hasn’t healed by the time I get back, you’d better tell him to watch out. Dennis Warley too. Don’t think he’s one to comment on what people look like when the rat-faced pillock hasn’t touched a woman since he came out the womb. I wouldn’t change you for the world, Bess, and anyone would be lucky to have you by their side whether that’s your dad or your husband.

Look after yourself, and give a kiss to Cora and Dot for me.

Tom.

p.s. I’ve written to dad.

Bess reread the letter, trying to hunt out any details she might have missed. She couldn’t help but be disappointed by Tom’s letters. They were never as long as hers, and he refrained from telling her anything of substance, just the goings on of the ship. It wasn’t like their evenings in the kitchen, when he’d tell her everything. Perhaps, he needed the silence and Bess supposed he couldn’t send her a blank page to signal his internal thoughts. She tucked the letter in a book, kissed the picture of Tom she kept in its pages, ignored her visions of Tom in the arms of a strange woman while on shore leave, and wandered downstairs.

“So? Who’s your fancy man?” Cora looked up at Dot’s question.

“Who says it’s a man?” Dot looked annoyed at her sister’s answer but said nothing, switching on the wireless to fill the silence.

“Warsaw now lies in ruins, while Germany and Russia continue to carve out Poland between them. At sea, the Royal Navy are focusing their efforts on scouring the South Atlantic in search of the notorious German pocket battleship Admiral Graf Spee. Rumoured to be somewhere off the coast of Argentina, the deadliest of Hitler’s Kriegsmarine has been involved in a number of skirmishes with merchant ships. There is a feeling that the Allied Forces are simply hoping that the inevitable will never come to pass-”

“Tom’s out that way, isn’t he?” Cora said softly.

Bess nodded. “Somewhere, yes.” The three sisters were silent, portraits of Albie and Etta looking down at them from the mantel as they waited for Fergal to arrive home. Across the road, Douglas switched off his own wireless, donned his cap and made his way to the pub. Bess watched him through the window as he made his way down the street, and her stomach gave a lurch. All these lonely souls left at home, severed from their loved ones with no knowing if or when they’d see them again. The horrors of war were unimaginable, but nobody talks about the living dead left behind.

Note: Happy Easter everyone! Sorry this chapter has taken a while, I’ve been so busy! I know some people reading this haven’t seen WoF (you should) – Douglas is a bus conductor. We’re with Tom A LOT for the next chapter 😊 While my paternal grandmother made munitions, my maternal grandmother (a seamstress) made planes – glad to have given the girls the same jobs as my grandmas’. The Palais, where Bess goes dancing, was where my Grandma used to go too. World on Fire is so intertwined with my family due to where it is set, it makes my heart sing! Here is my maternal grandmother looking fantastic.

Tags: @aemonds-wifey @multiple-fandoms-girl @jessssica1234 @babyblue711 @anditsmywholeheart @allthefandomtherapy @valerie977 @bookwyrmsblog @phantomontheinternet @chainsawsangel @greenowlfactif @thelittleswanao3 @yentroucnagol @skikikikiikhhjuuh @just-emmaaaa @beiigegalx

[lestweforget5]

Any head cannons for the Curt and Dickie live AU in England post recovery? Assuming Millie is on the same story line, how do they reunite? Do they keep on flying missions or are they too injured?

Hello, Nonnie! Thank you for the ask!

Below the cut since my reply is getting long:

I have not thought a lot about follow-up stories to "In England," although it does open up some intriguing story-line possibilities, but here are my initial thoughts ... that are subject to change, if I have do write such a story.

Curt and McKay would definitely return to flying status sooner or later. If Dennis remained in England and was not sent home to recover, he probably would, too, although it might be later than Curt and McKay. Whether Dickie would return to flying status would be the big question. His injuries were serious, but what did extra damage in "At Home" and "On The Train" were additional infections. If he could avoid that in "In England" totally or partially, he would have a better shot of a fuller recovery that might allow him to return to flying status.

Regardless, I don't think any of them would return to flying status before Black Week, which has prompted another Nonny a bit back to suggest a heart-breaking scenario where Munster was supposed to be Millie's last mission with Brady and his boys before being transferred back to Curt's crew. 😭😭😭 (I can't find that Ask right now.)

After Munster, I think it would be very likely that Curt--and Dickie, if he was up to return to flying status--would be grounded. As veterans and two more of the last men standing of the original 100th Crews, their experience would be invaluable, and the brass would probably not want to risk losing them. And the idea of them not wanting to get rotated home "because they refuse to leave the war without Millie," as @starlit007day suggested in an ask along the lines of the "In England" scenario is 🥺 and 😭, and the angst + hurt/comfort would be *chef's kiss*.

This ask has some more thoughts along this line: here.

I think in this AU, Millie would probably end up on the one of the earlier repatriation ships that went to England, not the USA, so she would be reunited with Curt and Dickie and Kenny and Millie and Winks and Billy and Sammy a whole lot earlier.

[lunarfeat21]

It’s four in the morning, woke up two hours ago, and I’ll never this go, I’ll think about it at the back of my mind.

—————————————

I really, REALLY, like the concept of cybertronians using sounds, whether to convey emotion, or simply scaring the living daylights out of humans (using legends to their advantage).

Look at Optimus from Animated, his engine revving in anger after learning that Prowl stole the Dinobots and put them on an island.

Then we have Strongarm (a pickup truck-like alt mode), MAKING TRAIN SOUNDS to frighten a tourist group away from a ghost town where it is a hideout to a shapeshifter. Like, holy shit, how cool is that?!

—————————————————

Now cut to the chase, how often do cybertronians do it?

Maybe not often when communicating with others, based on their moods. When given the opportunity, then using sounds to give a hint of whatever they feel.

Or replicating other sounds to confuse/scare anyone, ranging from mischievous purposes or using it to their advantages (especially when in war).

————————————

Now buckle up folks, it’s ‘my nonsensical bs headcanon’ time!

I like to headcanon that the Bee Team uses different sounds to communicate, especially useful when on missions they use to blend in the environments.

Imagine them on a highway, flanking a Decepticon in secret, using the honks of the noisy highway (in Morse code), and BLAM! Got the ‘Con!

When they’re not on missions, they also use sounds for various purposes: pranks, comedic effects, and a mood sound indicators.

Denny and Russell kinda get it in some parts, like one time they found Sideswipe and Strongarm in their alt modes face away from each other, they can hear the intense noises of their engines; giving a clear signal that they’re angry at each other.

Another time involving Grimlock and a joke he heard on tv, Dino was watching a comedy, world’s cheesiest joke came up, and Fixit found Grimlock in a laughing storm; chassis rising up and down with the stutters of a squeaky wheel.

Or when Thunderhoof is searching for Clampdown (oh boy…), the informant tried to muffled his whimpers, only for the mob boss finding him, resulting both running; one running for his life and the other ending his.

All the while Clampdown screaming in teapot, and Thunderhoof roaring like a busy farm tractor. You see what I did there ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

—————————-

And with that said, thanks for reading this, even if it didn’t make sense.

(You can also share your headcanons, I would love to read them!)

—————————-

Here’s a clip :) (as a bonus treat!)

[elisedonut]

Colin/Percy is a ship for me that just comes from just loving both characters alot but honestly Dennis/Percy is creeping up on me very quickly

the more I think about it the more fascinated by the idea of these two I become

Like its unhealthy in that codependent people tend to not even realize how codependent they've become kinda way

Dennis needs stability after graduating, being back at hogwarts was that for him and it helped alot at the time

mostly in him blocking out what happened for the most part and going full toxic positivity and only really grieving in spurts where he just breaks down every few months when it really hits him.

And Percy desperately needs someone to take care of because he is spiraling out of control in a deep depression.

For awhile George is this for him but as George is starting the slow process of healing he needs his brother less and less.

Not really but that's how Percy sees it.

He doesn't think he's of much more help to him though he stays there for him.

So when the year after Dennis' graduation on the end of the war's anniversary like event that alot of fics have happen at Hogwarts

Percy finds Dennis hiding away in a empty room because he physically couldn't stomach being in the great hall they end up talking and Percy feels useful again because he can help him. Because after months of feeling like he can't do anything he's actually being able to help.

and sadly cant type more because i have to get ready for work but this is stuck in my head

Five hours later

Ok so work is over i can add more of my thoughts(tm) to this

So when i said needs its more of a what they think they need situation

because as stated Dennis actually didn't do that hot in his last few Hogwarts years but the thing is

he thinks he did

he thinks its best to try to bury the feeling down with the distraction of semi-normalcy.

He thinks he's doing so much worse for himself after graduation when in reality he's finally actually really grieving.

He needs something(someone) to pull him out of bed if need be

someone who makes all the plans

tells him what needs to happen and when

and then holds him to it

because otherwise he falls into a cycle of never doing anything but being in a depression coma or pretending everything is fine while wishing he was in a depression coma

We don't know if Colin and Dennis were running/hiding together or separate from the snatchers but for this concept i think its more fun to think they were running together and that Dennis blames himself for letting Colin fight even though

letting is a strong word because really?

did he have any control over this situation?

No

Anyway

point is Percy blames himself for Fred

Dennis blames himself for Colin

*gestures vaguely as if I'm making even a little bit of sense*