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futureplayboibunnie · 1 year

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let them bleed for all I care

Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

being fuckbuddies with Miguel O’Hara wasn’t easy when you were both intensely yearning

another angsty so damn wrapped up in romance brainrot blurb piece of this man because i’m still insane. this is definitely a self serve fic but idc i’m sharing anyway. ALSO THERES A PART 2!

warnings: angsty sweet nothings and confessions, mutual INTENSE pining, sensuallll (tehehe), waking up in bed, lil fluffy

A dim glow coated your room and in turn, clutched at your heart. The rows of streetlights outside beaming against the deep dark horizon and peeping through the unsheathed window offered the perfect fuzzy gleam to make Miguel's face look even more perfect. Being twisted and disheveled in bedsheets with a man that struggled with letting anyone in would be a shocking revelation two months beforehand.

Miguel was...untrusting and cold, everyone seemed to come to that conclusion with him. He was a force of nature, something that you once thought was inhuman and unfeeling, that harsh and abrasive exterior being a tremendous cover for the lack of constructive outlets he had. At least he knew where he stood with everyone, living with himself in isolation was a form of self-preservation- and he was fine with it, but he wasn't happy with it. He had a tendency to lose himself in his rage or his panic, his body bore the brunt of it all. He would practically work his fingers to the bone in order to not talk to anyone, it was definitely a highlighted page of his own personal book of dramatic effects. You didn't want to just see the picture of himself he's painted- you wanted to fucking admire it like a lovesick fool. There were so many failed attempts to get closer to him, he was so dedicated to proving himself to be this leader that didn't need the weakness of having anyone, and that in turn only made him spiral into his own misery. Miguel tried so hard to not let you in, it was almost admirable if it wasn't so damn saddening. Every time you thought you were getting closer to him, he dismissed you and bit a clippy ‘’I'm fine. Leave.’’ It wasn't until you took advantage of the fact he doesn't have spidey senses and just swung onto his platform and just hugged him everything just went blank. Ever since then, he's called your name in the dark and contemplated on the zeal in which he would destroy those who would harm you. He had denied every single impulse he's ever had for you out of some misbegotten respect to his own personal impending doom to which he was still so attached.

Being fuck buddies had its benefits, no strings attached. You just had to tamper down your own feelings for him. It was easy enough for a while. You'd fuck, clean up and then leave in different directions. The routine changed though. You'd lay in bed a lot longer, you'd just hold each other and feel each other's skin. Neither of you would talk about it after. Miguel was lonely. He didn't like to admit it but he was. These clandestine moments with you were the only opportunity he had to breathe and let out everything inside of him.

Your head was on his chest, naked bodies tangled with each other as his arms held you steady and embraced you, your leg curled up and rested on his thighs, one hand buried in your hair and the other one resting on the dip of your waist feeling the curve of your skin. You were so warm, so soft, so good. Miguel liked it when you touched him like this, his body just constantly craved your contact.

Romance was never on the table for a man like him so obviously his body acted like it, he hadn't had the time for it until you came into his life and left your everlasting and distinctive mark. You fucked like a pornstar. Miguel's fingers stroked through your hair, breathing in the pretty scent committing it to memory. The atmosphere between you both was heavy and dense like you needed to talk about something but neither of you was committing to budge your will, you gazed at the marks on vour arms. The son of a bitch was so rough... just how you liked it, the punctures in your skin that his claws made only showcased such a thing. Your brows furrowed as you hummed at the sight of it.

‘’Too rough?’’ Miguel raised his eyebrow at your purpose, his voice gritty and not sympathetic in the slightest.

‘’No...perfect.’’ You replied under your breath, slightly saddened that this is all you'll ever be to each other. Just a fuck. The way you said it made his heart cave and a sense of confusion transferred onto his face. Is that what you thought of him? Or just the way he could fuck you. He turned his face to the side to gape at you with burning eyes, you looked so hazy and angelic, he grabbed your face in both of his hands and cradled it whilst using his thumb to smooth out the skin of your cheeks. Your eyes widened at his unexpected action of tenderness, his thumb traveled to your supple lips conveying a desperate and willing look on your face. Miguel's brows wilted sincerely and his mouth unhinged open as if he was going to say something.

“'What is it?”You murmured wantonly, a strange flame of desire burning into your chest, he has the ability to make or break you. He's always had the power to do that, you just weren't sure if he was willing to see it.

“'I've been...having bad dreams.'” Miguel's eyes diverted from yours as if he was embarrassed to say it, to admit that he was afraid. He wanted to ask something from you, he was sure it was going over the boundary of fuck buddies but he needed to ease his straining mind.

“'About?'” You implored but he just gave you a hard scowl filled with hubris. You sighed at his silence and just grabbed the hand that was on your face and kissed his palm. Miguel felt every single hair on his body stands to attention, litter of goosebumps trailed at his back at your ministrations and he felt it echo through his very soul. Both of you were going too far, breaching the terms of your agreement but you were two sad and lonely people trying to fill the void with the warmth of another person's body. “For God's sake, when will you stop being so noble?”

Miguel drank in your question and he uttered the words he knew would get him kicked out. “Can I stay tonight?”

“Miguel-“

“Please.”

Your hands raked through his hair, needy eyes searching his flitting from perfect feature to feature trying to understand if any of this was real. Did he feel what you felt for him? Or was he just too tired to go home? You didn't want to ponder the latter, you captured your lips with his gently as a confirmation. Your head rested against his chest, tracing your fingers against his skin like an odd form of tenderness. You didn't like what you were feeling: you were starting to fall in love with him.

Miguel awoke in a daze, his vision blurring into shapes and stars as the nightfall outside seeped into your room. He felt your warmth beside him and it soothed the wits about him, your steady breathing offered an equilibrium that he never had. A wave of protectiveness washed over him- his sentiments have always stayed the same when it came to you. What besides love inspires such pain and yearning?

Miguel leaned in and kissed behind your ear as you mumbled into nothing and your hands slid beneath the pillow as you stretched. Your hair fell with such ease and grace, a hazed-out mess on the bedsheets as your frame indented into the mattress, slivers of skin peeking out as you tangled and breathed. If anyone laid a finger on you it would be his undoing. He'd send them screaming back to hell, the dark thought sliced through his brain and he glanced at you to nullify it. He leaned up and sat on the edge of his side of the bed, Miguel glanced at you again to make sure you were sleeping. He clenched his jaw and a hand ran down his naked back and rested on his neck- as if he were trying to find the words to start a confession. A bubbling of words started to build up within him, he felt a need to just verbally say this out loud to you but without you actually knowing of it consciously. Miguel elbows dug into his legs as he gazed at his intertwined fingertips and let out a breath, finally finding the words he's always wanted to say to you.

“I don't know what's happening to me,” He began “I don't know why I've let it get this far. I shouldn't have given into my own selfish demands. Hell, I've done it once before and a whole fuckin’ universe collapsed...dios mio.” He raked an exasperated hand through his hair at the painful memory that was seared into his mind. “You just had to ruin everything for me, you just had to fuckin’ touch me and I was yours, now what kind of pathetic does that make me? What do I do with all this? What do I do with you?” Miguel paused to regain his self control and calm his frustrations but a sliver of sadness dropped into his chest instead.

“It's funny... You're so easy to hate. You're so easy to love. What the hell do I do with this hermosa? Just tell me what to do and I'll do it, just tell me what you want...tell me what you want from me...cause it feels like you're just taking it at this point. You're taking from me and now I'm fuckin’ broken down and hungry for you like a dog waiting for scraps hermosa. The rational part of me hates it but the other rabid part is just begging at your feet. I'm like a fuckin’ mutt for you...I'm in love with you mi vida.” Those words fit perfectly in his mouth: I'm in love with you. It tasted fucking glorious, it tasted sweet and sad at the same time, it was revolutionary. It was like those words were destined to come out of his mouth, just for you to hear. “It's ironic because you'd probably kick me in the teeth for saying such a 'formidable’ thing but I'm not blind, I can't deny what's in front of me and I don't want to keep ignoring it.’

A soft inhale of your breath ended his confession, you twisted your body to the side as your cheek was planted in the pillow facing him. You stretched out your arm onto his side of th bed as if you were reaching out for him, wanting to find his warmth. Miguel couldn't help but admire you in a trance like state while you were like this, at your most natural, at your most beautiful. He'd seen your face contorted in pleasure when he fucked into you, your body arch into his touch when his face was buried between the sweet valley of your thighs but he had never seen you look like this. Like an angel from the clouds as the white sheet barely covered you- you looked like a painting. Your long lashes were fanned out against your cheek and your lips were parted for your gentle breathing, the swell of your chest rising and falling in a synchronised rhythm. You looked perfect. He hated it.

Miguel slipped back into bed and under the sheets, finding your warmth once again. He held onto you, his palm clutching at your waist as your head eased onto his chest. His brows tensed before he kissed your temple, a thought occured to him. Every day he was with you and had you were the days he would go home and sleep soundly and didn't dream, he hadn't thought there was a correlation, now he connected the dots and the picture became all the more clearer. There was nothing he could do. He just had to suppress his needs and desires and put everything else in front of him.

Your eyes seeped in the tiredness the beginning of the morning offered, and the chirping of the birds outside of your window echoed through your ears, serving as a gentle reminder of the night before. A heavy feeling set in your chest as you turned your gaze to Miguel's broad and bare back, worry glazed over your eyes as you remembered the words he uttered last night when he thought you were asleep. You couldn't believe it...you wouldn't believe that all this time you weren't alone in your yearning. You couldn't quite grasp that you had Miguel O’Hara on his knees, begging to love you.

You wanted to take it from him so bad but a pang of guilt started eating at you. Your arms immediately embraced his frame as you nuzzled his neck and inhaled the deep cadence of the lingering notes of cologne from last night. Miguel's soft copper hair was messy and disrupted, without thinking you raked your fingers through his hair. Miguel was already awake, he felt it and he grumbled into it, melting against your blessed touch. Your other hand traced down his broad shoulders and his back, feeling his skin, tracing the pads of your fingers down his warm, golden flesh.

"Hmm." Miguel breathed raggedly at the sensation. “Morning.” you kissed his shoulder as you nuzzled your face into his neck, inhaling deeply. Miguel's eyes widened at your action, unsure as to why you were showering him with affection- it's never been like this before. You've never woken up with each other before. Miguel struggled to leave and get out of your hold and it seemed like you were doing it on purpose.

“Don't leave...”You whispered woefully in his ear, planting a kiss on the base of his neck. “Don't leave me...” Miguel was stunned and it was obvious by the way his brows furrowed, he wasn't sure if it was the fact he just woke up or if it was his half-crazed manic mind playing tricks on him.

He twisted his body to face you, his cheek buried in the pillow and the look you shared was that of pure longing, your hands went to his hair again, tracing the outlines of his face with your thumb. “I heard you...” Your sad eyes were lit by the liquid gold of the sun, Miguel would have been entranced if any other words fell out of those pretty lips of yours. He wasn't so lucky. He heard the exact thing that his very soul was dreading.

“I'm sorry you had to.” Miguel's eyes shot open and glared a hole into your face when he said it, feeling genuinely sorry for you. Instead of saying anything you moved your body and clambered onto his lap and bent down to kiss him tenderly. His calloused palms felt at your thighs and the outskirts of them, your hair fell to the side as your bodies slid over each other. Miguel was confused at what you felt, what you wanted and what you were doing- you were just so damn hard to read sometimes. You nuzzled your head into his neck and breathed him in deeply, his massive arms wrapping around you tightly like he would die if he let go.

"You know, I was never scared of you and I thought that made me stupid. Naive. You name it. You were so good at scaring people off, it was admirable, I couldn't help but be in fucking awe of you when you were being so…dangerous.” You spoke gently as your fingers went to trace something undistinct on his chest. “The others warned me that you'd probably rip my tongue out of my gaping mouth if I ever tried anything at all with you and I was half expecting you to break me in half like a toothpick when I just...held you....for the first time. Even if you did break me in half I would've relished every second of it, I think I've spent so much time practically begging you to just…break me.” Your voice faltered slightly and a smattering of whirlwind emotions started to rise within you. Miguel was hooked on your every word like a dog with a bird at your door. “When you told me you wanted me to touch you and that you wanted to touch me, I felt like... a teenager being asked out by an allstar jock. It was pathetic but I didn't care. It was you...and bit by bit, minute by minute I started to fall in love with you. I thought I was being a fucking idiot because who the hell was I to fall in love with Miguel O'Hara?” Miguel's silence was gruelling and heavy, he didn't want to answer your question becuase if he started he wouldn't be able to stop. His lips pressed against your temple and as always you melted into him.

“Don't think that little of yourself. I don't like it.” He murmured.

“It's not fair to you at all...all of this, I know that. All of these secrets bleeding into each other when you already have the weight of the whole fucking multiverse on those broad and tired shoulders.”

“Let them bleed for all I care.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman x y/n #across the spiderverse

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snickerdoodlles · 5 months

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No wonder this show became a hit. They really asked "you know what's better than one guy forced to give up something that it would break him to lose?" and gave us a whole bunch in different color shirts and said "Enjoy! :D"

(x, x)

right!!!! one of my favorite things about kinnporsche is how the show's like "here's some sexy mafia guys" except it's a TRICK, all the boys are at their sexy best when they're loving and domestic and caring for each other and get traumatized any time they actually act mafia. this show has its messy moments and goodness knows how their world works sometimes, but the writers had the most correct priorities when it comes to the emotional beats of the story.

Khun: the emotional journey of a deeply traumatized guy where we only see him in the aftermath, desperately clawing his way back to some sense of normality. how absolutely tender ep3 was with Porsche taking him to a new space, gently holding Khun's hand and asking him to stay with him and trust that he'll keep him safe, and he does, and we see Khun grow into a fiercer protector who can chase after the people he cares about past his walls and defend his home when its security is compromised.

Kinn: he wasn't a cold mafia boss softened by love, he was always a bleeding heart who's kindness was mercilessly beaten out of him. he falls in love so fast and so hard and it's so good watching his past traumas rear their ugly heads but him letting go of his old ghosts and clawing his way past them anyways, because he so desperately wants love and wants to love. and like? what a baller move that is for his character? he's a mafia boss, and a merciless one at that, but he also wants to be soft and cute and a good brother and boyfriend and all his people safe while living in and facilitating his violent and blood soaked world. the wonderful contradiction you are Kinn <333

Kim: the boy who tries to sacrifice everything for his and their greater happiness except it just makes him all the more miserable because this show really said there is no glory in what you give up or destroy, only what you shelter and protect. he's a self-saboteur but you can't help but root for him all the more because of it. he's just so scared to care, of that being used to trap him or anyone else, yet he's falling face first into his own schemes because he loves so much and so deep.

and just. Porsche, carving himself to pieces trying not to lose anything. Chay, who will twist himself into knots trying to hold everything he sacrificed for. Vegas, who tries to drive everything away before it can abandon him and shattering when it goes. Pete, who repressed and ignored all his wants and discontent until it shattered him.

i just. i love these boys. i'm obsessed with these boys. kp had a lot of balls to juggle and a bananas premise to do it in, but they nailed all the big emotions so good, i'm still mashing potatoes over them two years later.

#kinnporsche #not to just. wail over the boys but #so many flavors of trauma and tragedy #i love it so dearly #the descent into darkness alone but with the little candle of hope they'll crawl back out together #[mashes more potatoes]

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neonscandal · 6 months

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Manga with Me: Sad SatoSugu Edition (Because That's Literally the Only Flavor There Is) Pt 2

Because I realized reblogging my initial post to keep the list going was super dumb if I want to keep gratuitously adding to it so... if you've already seen part 2, no you haven't. Especially since I had to add at least one other thing to the mix.

Part 1 | Part 2

⚠️ Spoiler Warning: JJK 0 movie + season 2 though things may get out of chronological order as I just keep thinking in circles.

Buckle up:

How positively fucked it was that Kenjaku knew the ins and outs of Geto’s thoughts about Gojo upon his possession… and knew how Geto was the one thing that could trip Gojo up… but those idiots were completely unaware.

The fact that they were always cast at odds, cursed technique wise, nature vs nurture, attitude, ideology, etc. But they still found the common ground to respect and care for one another.

I kept saying how Geto only loses his cool when harm comes to Gojo but… the crux of it is the fact that Geto is the only person who loses his cool when harm comes to Gojo because no one else could fathom the possibility (until Yuta and Yuji came along). Gojo’s power damns him to be an infallible weapon just as much as it damns Geto to be a casualty.

In fact, Geto thanked him for his hard work during the Star Plasma Vessel mission. As if Gojo had a choice. But still, Geto expressed appreciation for what most everyone else probably took for granted.

How Geto was the one person who truly challenged and undid Gojo’s godlike power all because Gojo cared for him. *insert River Song’s tirade about the Doctor loving a mere human.*

youtube

The fact that Riko’s death and their subsequent failure is what catapulted Gojo back into the need to refine and perfect his godlike strength which brought him out of touch with Geto. The isolation which Gojo knew all too well is what destroyed Geto.

Not enough emphasis was given to the fact that Geto was actively spiraling, probably couldn’t bring a spoon to his own mouth BUT STILL WANTED TO TREAT GOJO.

Geto didn’t know the power he held over Gojo or, more likely, he never chose to use it because, if Gojo would just follow him, how would that not be just as bad as the position he was already forced into by the elders? Even so, Gojo was frenzied and showed such elevated emotion when Geto defected, when he confronted him. He was undone.

After Geto, we never have the same level of insight or clarity into Gojo either. So, in addition to no longer being vulnerable to threats, he’s no longer vulnerable to us, the readers, either.

This isn’t strictly a SatoSugu observation but.. the fact that Gojo’s strength damned him to face off against a person he cares most about not once… but twice?

Gojo cultivated a life surrounded by people who he protected, who he guided, who were indebted to him, even, and he still felt like Geto was his one and only, even after everything. Even as his dream came into fruition with his team of strong students, it was all for Geto and all for naught without him.

This face when Geto realizes what we’ve known all along. Gojo’s love was unconditional but unfathomable to Geto. Please, I’m sick about it.

During the events of the JJK 0 movie, after 10 years apart, Gojo could still piece together Geto's plan just as well as Geto could figure out that Gojo sent Panda and Toge into battle to trigger Yuta's power up.

When Gojo retorts that “it’s called trust. People with beliefs like yours won’t kill a young sorcerer without reason.” having been figured out by Geto.

Even so, Geto receives that as personally as Gojo probably meant it, surprised to find that "[he] didn't realize [Gojo] still felt any connection with [him]."

When you consider that, even at the close of his life, couldn't be forthright and honest and simply tell Gojo that he never hated him.

Even when Gojo was the source of his most genuine smiles. Even bloody in an alley, death staring him in the face, claiming to not be able to smile with his whole heart and yet

Points aggressively at the board. 👆🏾👆🏾👆🏾

Stay tuned for when I inevitably circle back to light novels, OP's, EP's and literally anything else that pops into my head as this dynamic continues to haunt me. ✨

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buckysmith · 1 year

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How they met you

Spiderverse

Includes: Miguel O’Hara, Jessica Drew, Hobie Brown, Miles Morales, Peter B Parker

Let me know if I have to put a warning

Reading is on your own. Not proof read

Miguel O’Hara:

- after destroying an entire universe to live a life that was not his, he forbade himself to ever open his heart again.

- no matter if it was for love or friendship

- he was afraid to lose everything again

- to see again how the people around him not only die but dissolve into nothing

- it seemed like he was cursed and had no right to happiness or better an Happy End

- he met you for the first time when he followed an anomaly

- into a world where there was no Spider-Man, no Iron Man, no Captain America.

- although he only found that out later, because before that he literally met you in person first

- the villain, who didn't belong in your universe, managed to give him a punch which threw him right through your window

- and to your sorrow, his body collided with yours, even if he tried to hurt you as little as possible he still knocked you both into the next wall/ground

-your eyes met as he got up from you

- you could not see his eyes, but he saw yours crystal clear

- something in your eyes reflected trust, care and security

- it was as if he had met you before, as if you were no stranger to him

- he didn't have much time, so he averted his eyes and went back to doing his job.

- It wasn't long before the bad guy disappeared through a portal and Miguel disappeared as well.

- but he couldn't get you out of his mind and one day the portal to your world opened again....

Peter B Parker:

- it was a typical cliché how you two met for the first time

- he had run full force into you in the New York rush, knocking your drink out of your hand and dousing you with it

- you looked like a wet poodle

- and as if that wasn't bad enough, you also had an important appointment that day

- and of course you didn't have time to go home and change your clothes

- to say you were pissed was an understatement

- especially since that joker in front of you started making jokes to lighten the mood.

- Spoiler: it didn't work

- so you just grumbled, thought your piece and continued on your way to the next store to buy new clothes

- and they say you always meet twice in life

- you wish you never saw that grinning idiot again in your life

- yeah, you thought wrong.

- but the second time was just as shitty as the first time

- because this time you walked too close to the road and when a car drove through the puddle you literally got showered with that dirty water

- the driver stopped only a few feet later, backed up and when the window went down you were greeted with the same grin as the first time

- to say it legally, you thought about how you would look in orange...

Jessica Drew

- You were on the way when you saw her for the first time

- it was already quite late and actually you wanted to be at home since 6 pm and it was near 12 pm and to your dismay you had to walk through a not so good area

- you saw her putting bags out of her car, probably she had just been shopping

- and she was pregnant.

- Hof did you know?

- her belly was hard to miss…

- you thought nothing of it and kept on walking

- the hood pulled low over your face to look dominant you kept walking until you heard several voices and a thump

- you turned around, saw how the men had knocked the bags out of her hand and were harassing her

- you wanted to look away and ignore it, but she was in danger and you couldn't accept that for the life of you, so you walked to her with quick steps

- you smiled at her while you walked between the men and hugged her

- you started telling lies that you were looking for her, that Josh and Luke were already waiting for you because they were really hungry after their shift at the station and looked at the men questioningly after that

- you looked at her and then asked how she knew those men

- with the information that she was now no longer alone and potentially two policemen were waiting for her, they left

- she thanked you and wished you a nice evening after she gave you her number

- if she hadn't seen you coming towards her, she would have dispatched the men with ease.

- but to see someone without superpowers put himself in danger impressed her

- from that day on you had Spider-Woman on your side

Spider-Punk Hobie Brown

- who would have thought that there were more universes

- sure you had it in class and always hoped there was a way to travel to them but your common sense knew that was impossible

- well until the time you fell through a portal that took you out of your universe and brought a villain into yours

- the pain you had until you were found was unbearable

- but fortunately for you, you were quickly found

- when you heard a voice saying you did not belong here and tying something around your arm was quiet and dark

- when you looked up you could hardly believe your eyes, he looked so, so animated and yet so real

- he personally brought you back to your world

- from that day on, you began to learn more about multiverses

- and from that day you had a new friend from another universe

Miles Morales:

- you wanted to do something illegal for the first time

- Spray graffiti to be more precise

- but who would have thought that you would run into Spider-Man of all people

- there was an awkward silence between you while he looked at you and you at him

- he had caught you red-handed, shortly after the first spraying attempts

- you were uncomfortable and you reached for your bag to leave, but he stole your notebook out of your hand to look at your drawings

- you expected anything, but not to get art lessons from Spider-Man

- you came every week on the same day at the same time to the point where you had met for the first time

- and he was there every time

- waiting to see you again to share his passion.

- who would have thought that the old subway station could give him not only superpowers but new friends as well

#miguel x you #miguel ohara #miguel o hara x reader #jessica drew #hobie brown #miles morales #peter b parker #peter b parker x y/n #peter b parker x reader #spiderverse au #spiderverse headcanon

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llamaisllama777 · 2 months

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*DAILY/*WEEKLY LAES,TSAMS,MGAFS EPISODE REVIEW 👏 👏 👏

I really love these Q and A videos they've been doing lately. A lot of interesting questions were asked in this episode, and two things I want to talk about that were brought up

1. Monty

2. Nexus

Monty treats Earth like a princess, and that is adorable! Monty does really love Earth, and it shows. Monty, yes, has his flaws (and crimes). Earth admits it as much, but when push comes to shove, Monty is a good person. He loves Earth and her family and wants to keep them safe. When poo hits the fan, Monty is there to help the family. He's the only one who is on Moon's level of intelligence next to Eclipse. He's Lunar's best bud next to his brothers and he is willing to risk bringing the wrath of the Astrals down on himself just to help and protect Lunar, and while yes, Monty and Sun have and probably will continue to butt heads, he loves that family TO DEATH! He shows he loves them and would do anything for them. Monty really has changed since the beginning of the show.

Now, onto Nexus...

Nexus, look, I'm sorry for what you went through. Losing Solar like that was hard, and I get it you were grieving. Everyone was grieving, and when you found a way to bring back Solar, you all jumped at that. And you felt a lot of pressure to bring him back not just for your sake but for them and also feeling pressured by Old Moon to "Protect the family" and "Do what it takes to keep them happy" you were under a lot of pressure I get it and you probably feel betrayed by them... but Nexus, you betrayed them first. You complained that Earth wasn't helping. She offered you help, but you rejected it! She asked multiple times. "Are you okay?" And you said "ya." Which was a lie. Even during family therapy, you lied and said you were okay. You weren't. You were willing to go behind everyone's backs and kill someone to bring Solar back. That's not okay. Even if it was a bad person like Ruin or Bloodmoon, that's still not good. Plus, you don't even know if Solar wants to come, and you forcing back to life in such a way probably wouldn't have gone over well. And when they all try to tell you that you are going over the deep end, you pushed them farther away, saying you don't care. And then after, they are forced to lock you in a cell to stop you from doing something stupid that you will regret look I get it you felt betrayed but Sun didn't mean to leave you in that cell for that long he got sucked into another universe and had to deal with Joker from Persona. He was gonna come back sooner, Nexus, he was. And then you get the idea to be the villain cause they are treating you like one.. Nexus, they aren't treating you like the villain, they were trying to stop you from doing something stupid. Then you go and try to kill Bloodmoon and are willing to let YOUR OWN SISTER die just so you can destroy Ruin and Bloodmoon. That's not right! And you act like you got betrayed? Buddy, YOU BETRAYED THEM FIRST!!!!!!! They didn't abandon you and try to kill you. They extend the olive branch to help you and help you work through your problems, but YOU said no. Not them. You went off the deep end and were going to do something the family wouldn't like, and something they knew wouldn't be good/would hurt you. They were trying to protect you cause you were their family, but you didn't care. You tried to kill your own sister. You called her "collateral." That is not cool. Whatever is making you out like this, maybe it's a shard of a Wither storm making you act like this, or maybe there is some chip in you making you like this, or maybe you did just snap but whatever the reason everything you did was not okay. You hurt your family, and depending on if this is really all Nexus' actions or he's being influenced by something will determine if he deserves some forgiveness or not.

If he is influenced by something, then ya, you deserve some forgiveness

But if this is just all him, then Nexus, you deserve NO forgiveness. You hurt your family, you tried to kill your own sister, and that is something that is hard to forgive. Don't expect them to cause no one would blame them for not forgiving him. No one like that deserves forgiveness.

Also fact I learned about Earth. Her favorite Mlp character is Fluttershy, same as Moon.

Well, Sun finally gets to relax... can't say the same for Moon tho.

Emperor Eclipse has re-entered the building yall!

So, Nexus is sending drones to Emperor Eclipse's dimension and Dark Sun has sent spies there to find the Wither shard, and now Moon and Emperor Eclipse have made a deal to help each other get rid of Nexus and Dark Sun. Add another ally to the list. Emperor Eclipse will be a very helpful ally, but he is an Eclipse, especially an Eclipse that won, so keep an eye on him.

Emperor Eclipse is actually kinda menacing, I don't know why? Maybe it's just the fact he won in his universe or his dimension or just his presence it scares me.

Eclipse and Puppet look super cute in the thumbnail! I'm sorry just had to say that.

So,Eclipse has been doing some dimensional tinder hunting and stumbled upon a new universe that spawned from the destruction of the 5,000 universes that Ruin destroyed. So this universe is like a patch-job universe. A universe made up of bits and pieces of the universes that got destroyed. So, in this universe, Roxy isn't around she was discontinued by the company, and Foxy took her place in this universe. Sun and Moon aren't separated yet in this universe, they might not even be the daycare attendent here? Freddy might not exist in this universe, and Henry might own Fazbear in this universe, not William. Also, Monty still exists in this universe. You can't escape him, Eclipse.

Puppet seems to like this place, Eclipse seems to like it too. So, it seems like Eclipse, Puppet, Foxy, and F.C. Will be leaving soon. What will become of the channel? Will Monty have to find a new co-host? Will Puppet and Eclipse take over the channel? Also, Puppet mentioned that if they take F.C. the Astrals may come after them. So, that might be a problem.

Good news Solar is coming back soon! 👍 😃

So, all and all awesome episodes, I loved all of them. The LAES one was cute, TSAMS gives us some more allies, and MGAFS gives us a look at a universe we may see a lot of soon.

11/10 👏 👏 👏

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shhtickerbook · 4 months

Text

Burnt Sugar

Wonka agere one shot fic! for all those asking for more CG! lofty content. This was very self indulgent and comforting for me heh. As always A03 link below or just read under cut!

Willy Wonka was sitting at his workbench, his chocolate making case taking up the whole table. A line of multicoloured corked bottles sitting on a shelf beside, each labelled with a symbol. (it was much easier than reading small lettering)

With extreme care he used a pipette to sample out just a few drops of liquid sunlight, dropping it into the glass spiral condenser. The amber bead travelling down the clear corkscrew before it made contact into a heated flask filled with a light blue serum. It was supposed to turn an aqua hue, but instead it became more of a mint green. Willy frowned in annoyance, tapping the glass gently to try and encourage it to mix further. Stubbornly it remained the same, it didn’t make sense, he was sure his measurements were correct. Biting in his lower lip as his foot shook up and down as he concentrated.

Very carefully again, he transferred one more drop of the golden liquid through the pipette. But squeezed the dropper a little too hard with his shaking hands, Willy cursing under his breath. He was exhausted to say the least, the past few days had been filled with constant recipe revisions and experiments. This batch was to be of his new idea! Mood lollipops, the idea was that with each lick the candy would change hue and flavour to match your mood. But the mechanics of it were proving to be insanely complex. Scattered papers and sketches of blueprints and experiments littered all around the tabletop and room.

With the excess force added to the dropper, far more than what he wanted poured into the mix. The aqua base quickly turned bright, almost neon green, not before it began to bubble worryingly.

“Nonono-“

Wonka muttered, pulling at his hair anxiously. Quickly he scrambled through his case in search of an ingredient to try and balance out the PH of the elixir. Just managing to find something that could work, but by the time he had turned around the solution was boiling furiously, a foam starting to build and ride up through the glass tubing. Willy didn’t know what to do, he was about to lose hours of work. He pressed his thumb against the neck of the tube, but the green candy mixture rose up to meet his skin, which was burning hot.

“Owwwch!”

He yelped as he removed his hand, the molten sugar having burned a small circle onto his thumb. Sucking on it hard to try and relieve the pain, having to watch in defeat as his hours of work pumped out of the tubing, emerald foam spilling out across his desk. Molten candy mixture spreading over everything, his plans and other important equipment.

Wonka’s face screwed up, clenched hands shaking in frustration. All that work for nothing, the experiments and a complete waste of expensive ingredients, all for him to mess it up and ruin all of it. It wasn’t often Willy got angry, it just wasn’t the kind of person he was. But this was too much, frustration bubbling over just like the melted candy had. In one sweep he attacked his work station, the spiral conductor being thrown from the table and smashing into splinters against the floor. Thick molten candy also exploding into his wall and floor, fusing itself to the surface. Willy scared himself with the noise, flinching away in alarm. He hadn’t meant to destroy it, instantly regretting his decision. The glass spiral now lying in three pieces across the floor.

Said conductor was one of his first pieces of equipment he got, it was whilst he was travelling through Germany in search of ingredients. He’d been feeling under the weather and visited a local chemist, who then introduced him to his laboratory equipment. A world of beakers, flasks, and more. Upon discussion he had the idea of using the them to expand his chocolate making. The old man sold him that conductor for half the usual price, as well as the exchange of a few chocolates of course.

Willy stood in silence as he stared at what he’d done. The smell of burning sugar filling the room horribly. The realisation of what he’d done only made him feel even worse, holding the back of his chair before kicking it over. He didn’t care anymore. Mood lollipops were a stupid idea anyways, he tried to reassure himself. He stepped back before falling to floor, biting hard on his lip. Childish tears threatening to fall, but he squeezed his eyes shut tight to keep them at bay.

He was so caught up in his misery that he didn’t notice the door creaking open, the sound of very small boots entering. Followed by a shocked exclaim in a pertinent voice.

“Willy Wonka what on EARTH has happened in here.”

The Oompa Loompa had heard such commotion from the workshop, having to come investigate. He wasn’t expecting to see such carnage inside, glass and melted sugar everywhere. Putting down a teacup he had in hand, he carefully stepped over broken glass as he looked around in horror at the mess. Willy groaned at the arrival of Lofty, his head buried in his hands. It was the last person he wanted to be around right now.

“Go-way”

He mumbled miserably, he didn’t have the brain to deal with Loftys judgment. But he wasn’t going to get out of it that easily, especially not from Lofty of all people.

“Not a chance, look at the mess you’ve made in here? Why there’s melted sugar stuck to the ceiling of all places!”

He looked up in horror, kicking away pieces of glass as he approached the chocolatier. Who was curled up on himself in complete defeat. Even Lofty realised that he was clearly feeling quite woeful right now, sighing sympathetically.

“Nevermind, we can deal with all this later. Out you get before you break anything else”

The Oompa Loompa barked out the order as he pinched his brow, tugging at Wonkas sleeve. He knew that Willy had been working himself too hard over the last couple days, and was clearly in need of some TLC. But yet again he was ignored, which he didn’t appreciate in the slightest. Placing two hands on his hips he spoke again, more firmly.

“Willy Wonka you are to get up immediately, you’ve been working yourself silly and this nonsense is clearly a direct result of it.”

He gestured again to the mess, Willy lifting his head to look at it apprehensively. It somehow looked even worse, and the state of his favourite conductor broken on the floor just upset him further.

“Leave me ‘lone”

He murmured wearily, glaring at the Oompa Loompa. Who just returned the expression with a glare, meaning business. From the tone of his voice, Lofty began to suspect the boys current state of mind. His tone of voice and body language giving it away.

“I’m not going anywhere, now. OUT.”

His voice rising sternly, Willy jumping at the noise. Before glaring hard and standing to his feet, towering over Lofty as he snarled.

“FINE!”

Wonka yelled back, stomping his way out of room. Nearly bowling the Oompa Loompa right over. Whilst leaving, his boot collided with the last remaining spiral of his conductor. Splintering entirely underneath his shoe, he paused for a moment before continuing outside. Willy felt as if his body was filled with boiling oil, ready to explode just like his chemistry supplies. He marched through his flat, not even sure what to do with himself. He felt overwhelmed, tired, frustrated and any other possible word for just plain horrible! It didn’t help when the set of small footsteps followed behind him curtly.

“Careful! You’re going to track glass throughout the house with that stomping.”

Lofty commented, but it only further aggravated Wonkas mood. His pretentious tone of voice feeling like nails on a chalkboard to his already sour mood. Turning around suddenly as he stopped him in his tracks, Lofty looking up cool as ever with his teacup back in hand.

“Oh don’t you ever SHUT UP!”

Willy threw out his arm, accidently hitting the teacup from Loftys hand. It smashed against the door frame before exploding into ceramic shards.

There was a terrible long silence for a moment, once again Willy highly regretting what he’d just done in a temper. Lofty looked at the remains on the floor as his took a breath in, trying to keep his own composure. It was one of his cups from Loompa Land, he had a few others, but it was still a sentimental item from his home. The clay itself collected from the river that ran through the island, before being fired in a uniquely designed Loompa kiln. It was a lengthy process, but the island produced some of the most beautiful ceramic.

He looked right up, making eye contact with the chocolatier. His face was unnervingly neutral in expression, that’s when Willy realised just how big a trouble he was in. Lofty lifted a hand and motioned for Willy to lean down, remaining his stone cold expression.

“Whilst I can understand that you’re feeling upset, that wasn’t acceptable behaviour.”

His tone was slightly different, extremely serious but still gentle. As if someone slowly poured a glass of icy cold water down the back of his shirt. Willy felt his sleeve being pulled, before being taken by surprise as Lofty briskly lead him away. He had to hunch over due to his tiny stature, and tried to pull away. Somehow Lofty’s grip was incredibly strong regardless of his size.

“What are you doing? Let go of me!”

Willy had meant for his tone to come off commanding, but it came out instead as pathetic and whiny. Giving the exact opposite impression he wanted to convey.

“If you are so intent on behaving like a child, then you are going to be treated as such.”

Lofty continued as he led the man into the sitting room, pointing towards the corner where a circular woven rug sat. Willy looking in complete bewilderment, wondering what in the world Lofty was playing at.

“Sit. There. Ten minutes”

Willy frowned in confusion before chuckling in utter disbelief. Once again trying to jerk away from the iron grip on his sleeve.

“You’ve got to be joking me-“

“Oh I certainly am not. If you are choosing to act out like this then you’re going to be treated accordingly.”

He stated, no longer willing to tolerate this misbehaviour. He was well aware that Wonka had times in which he felt younger than his physical age, and all this behaviour pointed towards him feeling so. Acting like a complete brat must be his way to communicate said emotions.

“I-Im not going to be put into a timeout”

Willy said defensively, hating it even more so when he could feel his defensives starting to crumble. The tone of voice and instructions making him feel very vulnerable. His reaction only furthered Lofty’s suspicions of his dwindling headspace.

“Are you sure about that? Because I disagree.”

Lofty firmly pulled him to the corner, before tugging hard down. It was remarkable how strong he was, considering his size. The jolt unsteadying Wonka as he fell onto his rear. It didn’t hurt, but paired with Lofty’s firm expression and his already sensitive emotions?

It made him feel too vulnerable and small, swallowing hard to keep down any tears. But even still against his own self control, a few dribbled over. Curling in on himself as he sniffled to himself miserably, it seemed to be the last straw for his headspace slipping.

Even Lofty sympathetically shook his head at the sorry sight, but had a suspicion that it was what he needed. Wonka was the type of person who far too often bottled up any negative emotion, always trying to keep his signature (and often irritating optimism)

So pulling a pocket watch from his waistcoat, he checked the time.

“Your ten minutes begin now”

Willy looked up with a glare, he didn’t want to wait ten minutes. It wasn’t fair, he hadn’t meant to break Loftys silly teacup. Although there was a part of him that felt guilty about it, it was a pretty teacup. He watched as the Oompa Loompa turned on his heel, gathering each shard of ceramic from the floor.

Wonka didn’t even know why he had even entertained this silly idea, but with his current headspace Willy couldn’t stop the onslaught of tears, mixed with self pity and overwhelm. Whining and groaning from pure frustration, wanting any kind of attention. He wanted Lofty to come over and apologise for putting him here, or at least offer some kind of response. But Lofty didn’t react at all, just continuing to clean. The lack of any kind of reaction though infuriated Willy further.

He’d been placed onto the oval rug, legs tucked up to his chest. So with a huff he kicked both his legs out from underneath him, boots slamming onto the floorboards with a loud clunk. Lofty was faced away as he swept the broken crockery, but sighed before responding.

“Please remove your shoes from the floor, I don’t want you leaving scuff marks on the mahogany”

He sternly requested, Willy swallowing and instinctively pulling his feet back. Cursing himself for being so easily scolded, it was something about his tone of voice that just cut through him like butter. It just built even more anger and frustration within himself. He was scowling to himself when he thought came to mind, remove his shoes Lofty told him.

Fine. He’ll remove his shoes alright. Fumbling a little with the laces, Willy untangled the lace from his boot. Grabbing ahold of the sole he pulled hard to get it off, holding the boot to his chest with a frown. Before he could change his mind, he raised the boot high above his head. And in one angry motion he hurled the shoe hard, colliding with the doorway where Lofty was disposing of the mess. A chunk of the skirting board chipped off from the projectile hitting from such force.

The Oompa Loompa jumped in surprise at the projectile, but still retained his cool exterior. Taking another deep breath to regulate himself, he knew a reaction was exactly what Wonka was trying to get out of him. So he calmly just pulled out his pocket watch once again, resetting the timer with a sigh and a shaking head.

“Congratulations Mr Wonka, you have now had your time reset , with an added five minutes for throwing that shoe. Even think about doing the same with the other one, and you can trust me when I say you’ll be spending the rest of the evening on that mat.”

He spoke with a dead serious tone, turning to look Willy directly in the eye to show he really really meant it. Wonka’s angry body language visibly deflating like a balloon, shrinking down. He knew that Lofty wasn’t taking any more of his tricks. He couldn’t even be naughty properly, just like how he couldn’t finish that stupid recipe. With only one boot on he tucked his legs back under his chin, sniffing as he felt his eyes watering. This time he couldn’t hold it in, bursting into floods of tears. Quickly escalating into bubbling sobs, everything all at once crashing in on itself.

Willy couldn’t even tell what he was crying about, whether it breaking his condenser, yelling at Lofty or being scolded at for throwing the stupid shoe. It seemed to be days of pent up emotion just exploding out of him. His cries ended up hitching and hiccuping , making his head throb horribly. It felt as if he’d been marooned on this silly carpet for hours. After five minutes his sorrowful howling had escalated to the point where he wasn’t sure if he could breathe, any time he tried to stop he just dissolved into panicked sobs again.

Lofty knew that he had no option but to intervene at this point, regardless of his punishment. Slowly walking over before sitting down across from him on the floor.

“Alright you’re going to make yourself sick at this rate, you’re not taking in enough air with your silly gasping.”

Willy looked up through his tears to see the Oompa Loompa sitting across from him. Although still amongst the meltdown, he glared at him.

“Go-a-WAY!”

He yelled as best he could, but his voice cracked and whimpered which ruined the effect he wanted yet again.

“Not happening I’m afraid. Now try take in some deep breaths with me, before you keel over from lack of oxygen.”

Willy’s head was in-fact feeling a bit dizzy, as were his hands that were beginning to tingle with pins and needles. As if he had a fizzy soda pop running through his veins. It was difficult to try and break out of the cycle of hyperventilation, watching closely as Lofty demonstrated. Who placed an orange hand to his stomach, before breathing in deeply.

“Copy as such, hold a hand over your belly and breathe in, hold it for a few moments before letting go. Feel your stomach rise in and out the way as you do so.”

Willy found this all rather silly sounding, but decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. Even if Lofty had been so mean as to put him in timeout. He took in the breath, but halfway through it hitched again. Falling back into the unhelpful gasping.

“Try again, with me this time”

Loftys tone was still firm, but gentle also. Willy swallowing as fat tears kept on spilling over. He nodded and tried again, holding his hands over his belly. This time successfully taking in a deep breath and feeling his stomach rising and falling. He carried on following Lofty’s example for a couple minutes, and although the torrent of tears hadn’t stopped, Willy had managed to calm down a little.

“That’s much better, now would you say we’re done with the tantrum at last? I fear for the house’s interior if we plan on throwing any more shoes.”

Willy nodded tearfully, looking over at the ceramic shards that had been swept into a pile, sitting to the chunk that had been chipped from the skirting board from the boot. Then remembering the mess in his workshop he caused, he just ruined everything.

“Mmso-sorry..”

Face screwing up again, swallowing to try keep himself from falling to pieces again. Lofty sighed sympathetically, shaking his head as he unfolded a handkerchief from his waistcoat.

“Now that’s enough of that, I know it was an accident- well at least some of it was. Regardless, from the look of it you’ve served your time anyways.”

Lofty checking his pocket and watch before he stood up to daub around the chocolatiers hot teary face. A surprisingly gentle and kind action that was quite unheard of coming from Lofty. The fabric was extremely soft, there was even a pretty design embroidered onto it. He was then handed the cloth once Lofty was satisfied with his mopped up eyes.

“Now blow that nose of yours, you’ve probably given yourself a terrible headache.”

Wonka sniffed with a nod, but felt the pretty stitching with his fingers. It felt a little sacrilegious to make it gross by blowing his nose into it.

“It’s too- pretty”

Willy mumbled, the corners were stitched with tiny little exotic flowers and vines. Maybe they were the ones you got in Loompa land. It was a shame that he didn’t spend too much time there on his travels, only a quick stop in search of cocoa beans.

“It’s quite alright, keep it if you’d like. I can always make another.”

Lofty said flippantly, seeing a flicker of a smile in Wonka’s face at the gift. Although it wasn’t like he deserved it from how miserable he’d been acting. It was clear that with Lofty’s small hands he could then create the smallest and most intricate detail.

Even still, Willy didn’t want to ruin it. Stuffing the hanky into his pocket before resolving to use his sleeve to wipe his nose. Much to Loftys utter disgust, Willy just hoping that he wouldn’t change his mind on the gift.

“Ugh, and I give you a perfectly good handkerchief for nothing”

Lofty spoke, shaking his head in disappointment. For the first time Willy letting out a small chuckle, although still between the tears dribbling down his cheeks. Even Lofty couldn’t help but smirk, pleased to see that his spirits had lifted even a little.

“I suppose you can get off that mat now, I gather you’ve certainly learned your lesson.”

Loftys small hand patted Willy’s knee, who took in a deep breath as he nodded. Apart from the headache he already had, Willys head was feeling extremely fuzzy. The outburst had caused him to slip very small, very quickly. Thankfully Lofty had already connected the dots on that matter, and it was very clear Wonka was going to need some caring for this evening. Willy knuckled his bloodshot eyes as he stood up, feeling a slight head rush as he did so.

“Careful! Don’t need to add falling over and flattening me to the list of trouble today.”

Lofty warned, standing and dusting himself off. Looking up at Willy as he stood fidgeting with his hands. Not quite sure what to do with himself, thankfully Lofty took charge again. Despite his towering size over him, all he could see above him was a tired little child. One that seemed to be in desperate need of some comfort and rest.

“Come on then, let’s get you settled and into bed.”

Lofty held up his hand, just high enough so that Willy could hook a finger into the palm of his small hand. Willy allowing himself to be lead through the flat, his other hand making its way to his lips as he chewed on his thumbnail. It was only early evening, but Wonka felt exhausted regardless. The upset had taken all the energy from his system and left him drained and weary. Lofty swiftly delivered the boy to his bedroom, greeted by the warm red and pink tones decorated throughout.

Similar to his childhood home, Willy had a bed built into the wall much like his mother’s canal boat. The structure having a short ornate barrier that on the boat was meant to prevent one from falling out during a storm. Although no longer on the water, it was an aspect that Willy always found comforting. The raised sides creating a safe barrier, he often fell out of his ramshackle bed at scrubbits during the night when he stayed there. The hardboard flooring extremely unforgiving to your body when you fell upon it. Even still, there was also a homemade rag rug sitting on the floor beside. Noodle and her Mother had made it for him as a housewarming gift for when he first moved into his new home.

Willy let go of Lofty’s hand to kneel down on the floor to run his hand over said item. It was made from scrap pieces of multiple kinds of fabric tied together, he liked the texture of it.

All the while Lofty tutted at the rooms lack of organisation, disapprovingly picking up a discarded vest that was lying on the ground.

“Really Mr Wonka, you’re too old to be keeping your room in such a sorry state”

Lofty couldn’t help but comment, before looking over at the little chocolatier who was just kneeling on the carpet, running his hand over its surface, the other chewing on his thumb. Lofty realised his own irony of his comment, chuckling to himself.

“Well, perhaps not at the moment I see”

There was something endearing about Wonka like this, well apart from the tantrum. That part he could live without, but you can’t exactly pick and choose these things. Willy himself was feeling very small, head fuzzy and little. But especially tired, he was so sleepy. He hadn’t been sleeping properly for the past couple days, mind too busy with calculations for new candies and chocolate.

“You need to get into bed, get changed into your nightclothes and I’ll return in a few minutes with some sustenance.”

Lofty called, Willy turning away from the rug to look over with a weak nod. Eating and drinking properly was yet another matter that he’d been neglecting. By his bed sat a drawer containing his nightclothes, deciding to just shuffle on his rear over rather than walk.

Willy ended up deciding on his favourite pair, an incredibly soft magenta material. It had small gold buttons down the middle though, and he had a little trouble getting them done up. The fabric felt heavenly against his skin, the material reminding him of one of his mother’s old smocks. With his eyes closed he held the sleeve close to his cheek, just imagining the sweet smell of her perfume, a soft gentle tune being hummed.

On his bed he spied a familiar looking companion, a navy knitted toucan was peaking his beak from beneath the blanket. Willy pulling himself up to crawl onto his bed, carefully collecting his bird friend, Chester. Both button eyes looking up at his own red bloodshot ones from crying. He manoeuvred his wing to reach up and wipe his own eyes.

don’t cry willy, it’s okay

As Willy continued his imaginary conversation with the stuffed animal, Lofty re-entered the room. Holding a wooden tray with him, he couldn’t help a fond chuckle at seeing the man in some kind of whispered conversation with the inanimate object. Wonka heard said laugh though, head whipping around as he threw the plush behind him. His face burning scarlet, Lofty must find him so silly.

But the Oompa Loompa wasn’t phased in the slightest, shaking his head with a small knowing smile.

“I believe I’ve already met- Charles is it? Before, no need to throw him away in my presence”

He reassured indifferently with a shrug, Willy feeling a little better.

“Chester! name is Chester.”

He had to correct the mistake, frustrated that Lofty had once again forgotten his name. Lofty simply looked up and shook his head.

“My apologies Chester”

Willy then turned to pick up the toucan again, whose eyes had been a bit skewed by being thrown. Which gave him a very understandable expression of annoyance.

ouch! You’re lucky I didn’t split a seam there. Charles though huh? Makes me sound fancy, don’t mind it.

Willy held the bird close to his chest in apology, who thankfully was very forgiving. Lofty approaching and placing the tray on the side table. On it sat two drinks, one small mug of tea, and a glass bottle of what looked to be hot chocolate.

Willy blushed a little again at the sight of it, remembering it had been something Abacus had purchased for him. A rubber nipple was stretched over the neck of the glass bottle to keep it sealed.

“Abacus already warned me of your capability of spilling drinks when you’re feeling young, I thought especially right now, it’s what you need”

Lofty stated matter of factly, not willing to risk Wonka creating any more mess tonight. Willy looked down played with his fingers, feeling a bit torn on whether he wanted it or not. But before he could make a decision, Lofty caught sight of something, clicking his tongue.

“Oh for heavens sake let me fix those buttons, you’ve created quite a mess of it.”

Without hesitation he reached forward to fix them, unbuttoning and rebuttoning each row. Willy hasn’t even realised he’d buttoned each row into the wrong buttonhole, looking down to watch as Lofty small hands fixed the error. Chuffing to himself smugly when finished, Willy didn’t think he could feel any smaller. The simple action had sunk him even further into headspace, but he appreciated how Lofty took charge like this. There was no room for him to start second guessing or feel self conscious.

So when Lofty did offer the bottle afterwards, he didn’t hesitate and took it with both hands. It was hot, but not so hot that it burned. It was filled with a milky sweet hot chocolate, whilst Lofty sipped on his own dark mocha.

“Cmon, into bed now. I do say there may be a possibility of a story if you get settled quickly.”

With widened eyes Willy quickly scrambled beneath his blanket, he did love stories so. Abacus always read in his comforting baritone rumble, but he’d never had a story yet from Lofty. There was a small stack of hardback books piled underneath a shelf, yet another gift from Noodle. She knew how much Willy enjoyed books, whilst both little and big now. But he had a soft spot for these picture books, they were short and had easy rounded lettering.

Pointing at the stack once settled inside bed, Lofty began to sift through them. Smiling at the charming watercolour illustrations, each book was its own story but they seemed to all share the theme of the characters being animals who acted much the same as humans. Beginning to understand now that Willy struggled with decision making at the moment, Lofty chose one of the books himself. Settling on one which depicted a family of kittens performing household chores.

Willy smiled when recognising the title, reaching out to trace the covers illustration when Lofty perched on the bed beside him.

“Now are we all comfortable?”

Lofty turned to see the chocolatier tucked into bed, the small toucans beak hooked over the covers. Willy held the bottle in both hands, only realising now that he was quite peckish. The hot chocolate was soothing against his raw throat from crying, and he guzzled it down eagerly. Although he was quickly interrupted with a gentle nudge of the elbow from Lofty.

“You’ll give yourself hiccups again if you drink it too fast Wonka, it’s not going anywhere.”

He chastised, Willy releasing the grip on the bottle with a sheepish giggle. Lofty then returning to the book, reading out the title in a clear gentle tone.

“Five little Kittens…”

By the end of the story, the rest of the bottle had been drained to nothing. Willy loved the book, even more so with Lofty reading. He would often pause between pages to rely his own thoughts and comments, which made Willy laugh. Surprisingly Lofty also did voices! Lowering his pitch up and down for each of the different feline characters.

“Alright then, how about one more and you try get some rest.”

Lofty spoke quietly, wanting to settle the boy in hopes he would fall asleep. Willy’s eyelids were beginning to flutter, the hot chocolate having filled his belly with a bloom of warmth. Lofty just chose the next book in the stack, this one’s cover featuring a squirrel in a blizzard whilst he hid inside a tree trunk.

By the time that Lofty had gotten through the middle of the story, he heard a gentle rumbling from beside him. Willy Wonka completely out for the count, snoring softly with one hand still ahold of the glass bottle. It was an endearing sight, even Lofty couldn’t lie. With a fond chuckle, he laid a hand to gently stroke his brown curly hair from his face.

“I do say, I definitely prefer you like this.”

46 notes · View notes

bonefall · 1 year

Note

who do you think the most tragic character in bb is? ignoring the ones you’ve talked a lot about before.

Either Houndleap or Larkstripe

Houndleap;

Is in Hell for a nonviolent code violation.

YES he cheated on several mates, but most of his mates really didn't care at all.

The reveal of his secrets landed a lot of them in hot water for no good reason. There was collateral damage here, for what?

In the modern day, the Queen's Rights would have protected all of this cats and he wouldn't have had to tell so many lies.

He wanted to be with his family in StarClan before they faded away, but that chance was taken from him.

He's bored and frustrated. He doesn't like being in the Dark Forest very much and feels like his punishment was disproportionate.

Hasn't he been through enough?? Haven't they ALL been through enough??

Larkstripe probably really takes the cake here, but Hound's one I like a lot as an honorable mention. His story is kinda fucked up when you think about it, I think it highlights how flawed StarClan trials are.

Larkstripe;

She loses completely and utterly.

Most of the other big tragic figures in BB (Cloudstar, Spiderstar, Stonefur) lost the battle but won the war, venerated in StarClan and by history.

But Larkstripe doesn't.

Her strike is broken. SkyClan is never brought home. The Cleric's Vow was codified to slander her reputation and force her child away from her.

And... then Ripplestar continues her work, and is condemned for it. They're separated again, they never reunite.

Larkstripe is destroyed. She exists but she's been so broken that she just can't care anymore. They took everything from her, her reputation, her child, her hope, first Dalestar, and then Silverpelt.

She won't go to the Dark Forest to follow him because she doesn't want to lose her place in the stars, believing it's something valuable.

Everything got worse on Earth because of how hard they crushed her, and it hasn't gotten better yet.

She needs a hug, man

#better bones au

99 notes · View notes

daegudrama · 1 month

Text

Title: Route 613

Pairing: Reader/Namjoon, Reader/Yoongi, Reader/Vmin

Summary: Reader wants to be the very best Pokémon trainer there ever was. Her first stop in that journey is Paldea University home to a myriad of higher education. Still working to get over her ex boyfriend, Yoongi, reader forms new connections while making a few questionable decisions along the way. Each battle bringing her closer to the glory she's always dreamed of. Will she succeed in becoming champion or will outside forces stop her from achieving her goal?

Word Count: 8.3k

Disclaimer: Real life ages mean nothing in this fic. Refer here for ages and my shitty graphics

cross posted to ao3 here

1 2 3 4 5 6 7

Chapter 8

Woosung obliterates your team in a way you haven’t seen in years. You never thought for a second that he would go easy on you, but you thought you could hold your own well enough to stand a chance. All the hard work you’ve put in over the last few years feels worthless. The gym leaders of a different region are already beating you. How the hell are you going to stand against the gym leaders of your own region? Who are, arguably, harder to beat.

Tears are threatening to spill down your cheeks as you exit the gym. You feel so stupid for crying about losing one battle to this very talented gym leader. This battle means something more to you no matter how much you don’t want to admit it. Why would Namjoon be interested in someone like you when his ex is extremely handsome with a team so strong you didn’t even stand a chance? You aren’t good enough. Why do you even want him to be interested in you?

Your feet guide you to the edge of town and into the surrounding forest. There is a peaceful quiet all around you as you step further away from your thoughts. Before your emotions overtake you a familiar voice calls out to you. Of course he’s the one that would follow you out into the woods.

“YN, you did really well.” Yoongi says from behind you. You turn to look at him but don’t say anything, keeping your arms crossed over your chest. “I’m serious.”

You take a deep breath, fighting to keep the tears at bay still. It’s becoming harder with every passing second. “Thanks, Yoongi, but it really didn’t feel like it. I got destroyed out there.”

Yoongi steps closer, his expression gentle but serious. He means whatever he is about to say deeply. “Woosung is tough. He’s one of the best, but you still did great. Losing doesn’t mean you’re not good enough.”

You shake your head, biting your lip. How is he still inside your head even after all your time apart? “It feels like all the effort I’ve been putting in was for nothing. He’s perfect, and I can’t win.”

Yoongi’s eyes soften as he places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Hey, listen to me. Woosung is a different level of talent despite the amount of time he’s been a trainer. He learned from some of the best. You’re still learning and you’ve come so far already. If this has something to do with Woosung being Namjoon’s ex, just know that he doesn’t care about how many battles you are winning or losing. I think he just cares about you.”

You look up at Yoongi, trying to absorb his words. The last thing you expected was for him to say something about Namjoon especially because of what happened last night. Are your thoughts really that obvious to everyone? You don’t even know what you are feeling. How could he have picked up on that?

“It’s just hard not to compare myself to him. Woosung is everything I’m not.”

Yoongi squeezes your shoulder gently. “Thank god for that. Woosung is Woosung, and you’re you. That’s what makes you unique. That’s why I can’t get you off my mind.”

A tear finally escapes, trailing down your cheek. Yoongi pulls you against his chest wrapping his arms tightly around you. It’s familiar and comfortable in his arms. There’s a sense of safety knowing he would never intentionally let something or someone hurt you. Maybe it's naive of you to still think that but you do.

“I just want to prove myself, you know? Not just to him, but to myself.”

You feel Yoongi nod, and you look up to see understanding in his eyes. “And you are. Every step, every battle, every loss, and win it’s all part of your journey. Don’t let this one setback make you lose sight of how far you’ve come.”

You pull away from his embrace, wiping your tears away. How did he make you feel better so easily? “Thanks, Yoongi. I really needed to hear that.”

He doesn’t attempt to bring up last night knowing it’ll only make you more upset. Instead he leads you back into the city. There is a special exhibit on fire pokemon at a nearby museum that Yoongi happened to see a poster for when he was walking by a few days prior. You are always excited to learn more about your favorite type of pokemon, especially from experts that aren’t your parents.

Yoongi takes a step back letting you wander around the exhibit without saying much. There is a faint smile on his lips. It feels so normal to be here exploring a new place with him. It’s so easy to let yourself fall back into old routines. He feels like old Yoongi. Once, you even catch yourself reaching for his hand before realizing how stupid that would be. Thankfully he didn’t see.

After spending nearly two hours at the exhibit you head back to your hotel. A moment alone will do you some good. You have a lot of emotions to process. As you enter your room you see the basket Namjoon gave you last night. Along with his usual kindness of snacks there is a cute envelope. Inside he’s written a poem about the joys of raising pokemon. You laugh to yourself wondering when he had the time to think this up.

═════════∘◦❀◦∘══════════

On the last full day in Kanto the gym leader invite you, Namjoon, Jimin and Yoongi to go clubbing as a farwell. Despite the travel you’ve done because of your parent’s jobs, you’ve never been to a real club before. You are excited to let loose and go with the flow after the tough training you’ve been doing here.

A knock at your door startles you because you aren’t supposed to leave for a few more hours. Quickly you get up and answer the door. Hiyyih is standing on the other side in a crop top and baggy black jeans looking like a dream as always. You lunge forward wrapping your arms around her neck. She giggles into your ear at the unexpected affection.

“I’m so glad you’re here. I really need you.”

Hiyyih pulls away first and sits on your bed while you give her a rundown of everything that's happened on this trip so far. Of course, you already told her once but there are some details you left out. She understands the difficulties going on in your brain. You think it would be weirder if you weren’t conflicted at all. For so long you thought Yoongi was it for you. You thought the two of you would spend the rest of your lives together.

“Maybe, we should swear off men until one of us becomes champion.” Hiyyih muses hours later as the two of you are getting ready side by side.

“I think that would be a lot easier for one of us.” You look towards her with narrowed eyes watching as she curls her eyelashes. “Wowwww.” Hiyyih says overdramatically with a laugh bubbling up. “Just calling me bitchless.”

You roll your eyes making sure she sees it. There is not a single instance that you can think of where Hiyyih has mentioned being attracted to someone in that way. She knows this, which is why she’s laughing about it. Before you can say anything else on the matter she changes the subject.

“I can’t believe you haven’t asked why I’m here yet.” Hiyyih says, getting up to look through her duffle bag.

“Our best friend bond told you that I needed you?”

“There’s something going on here that Kai won’t tell me about. I begged to come because I knew you would still be here until tomorrow.”

You drop your eyeshadow brush on the table in front of the mirror in shock. Is Yoongi’s dad up to something? Are you and your friends in danger? Wouldn’t Yoongi have told you if there was something you needed to be aware of? Or is he trying to protect you from whatever potential threat there is? The only thing that brings you peace is knowing Kai would not have allowed Hiyyih to come if there was real danger.

“I’m sure he’ll be able to take care of whatever it is.” You say after recovering before she can question why you froze. Even if she is Kai’s little sister you can’t tell her about what Yoongi told you.

Hiyyih makes an unsure face but shrugs and moves on.

“I did not bring a club outfit. That means we need to go shopping!” She looks far more excited than she should, but who are you to deny your best friend? You could probably use a new dress too. Living in your training clothes is not your most flattering look.

“Let’s go!” You match her enthusiasm and let her lead outside.

Hiyyih has been to Saffron City quite a few times and already has a place in mind. It's just down the street from your hotel. As you enter the shop, the bell above the bell above the door jingles, announcing your arrival. The interior is a cozy blend of modern and vintage styles, with racks of clothing arranged neatly and mirrors placed strategically to let customers admire their potential purchases. Hiyyih heads straight for the dresses, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

“We need to find something that will make you look extra hot!” Hiyyih declares, giving you a playful nudge.

“I’m not trying to impress anyone, Hiyyih. I just want to have a good time.”

“Sure, sure,” she replies, not quite believing you. “But it doesn’t hurt to look amazing while doing it.”

You sift through the racks, pulling out a few options. Hiyyih does the same, holding up dresses against her body and giving you exaggerated poses. After a few minutes, she finds a sleek black dress that hugs her curves perfectly. You are a little pickier so it takes you longer to decide on a deep red option with a flowy skirt that twirls when you move.

Once you’ve both found outfits you’re happy with, you head to the fitting room to try them on. As you slip into the dress, you can’t help but feel a surge of confidence. You look hot. The fabric feels smooth against your skin, and the color complements your complexion perfectly. The deep plunge in the front is not what you would normally go for, but it makes your chest look so good. Resisting would be a disservice to yourself. You step out of the fitting room to show Hiyyih, who whistles appreciatively.

“Damn, YN! You look incredible.” she exclaims, clapping her hands together. “The boys aren’t going to be able to keep their eyes off you.”

“Stop,” you laugh, twirling in front of the mirror. “You look amazing too!”

After paying for your outfits, you both head back to the hotel to finish getting ready. The excitement of the evening ahead fills the air, and you can’t wait to let loose on the dance floor.

═════════∘◦❀◦∘══════════

The club is even more electrifying than you imagined. The neon lights cast a colorful glow over everything, and the music pulses through the air, making it impossible to stand still. You, Hiyyih, Namjoon, Jimin and Yoongi enter together. The gym leaders who invited you quickly greet you.

“This place is wild!” Jimin shouts over the music, his eyes wide with excitement. “I can’t wait to dance!”

Namjoon nods, already moving to the beat. “Let’s make the most of our last night here.”

You and Hiyyih exchange a look, both eager to dive in and forget all of your stressors for one night. The group makes its way to the dance floor, where you quickly lose yourselves in the rhythm. The music is infectious, and you feel the stress and tension of the past weeks melting away.

As Hiyyih predicted, the boys can’t keep their eyes off you. All three of them have been caught looking for just a little longer than they should. Namjoon, who has opted for a short sleeved shirt that shows off his muscles quite nicely, is entertaining himself with the other gym leaders. He’s very popular with Nayeon right now. Yoongi is standing on the edge of the group with a glass of whiskey in his hand observing more than he is dancing.

As the night progresses, you find yourselves in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by friends and strangers alike. The energy is electric, and you can’t help but feel alive. The drinks Hiyyih and Jimin keep pressing into your hand probably aren’t hurting the feeling either.

Yoongi pulls you close, his hands resting on your hips as you move together to the music. The chemistry between you is undeniable, and you can feel the tension building with every moment passing. Just as you are about to tilt your head up and do something stupid Hiyyih appears.

She’s wearing a mischievous grin on her face. “Come on, let’s take a break and get some drinks!” she shouts, pulling you towards the bar.

Yoongi follows closely behind. The club is packed, but you manage to find a spot and order a round of drinks. As you sip your cocktail, you catch Yoongi’s eye, and he gives you a playful wink.

“This trip has really been something.” you say, feeling a surge of gratitude for the experience you’ve shared with your friends.

“It really has,” Yoongi agrees, raising his glass in a toast. Hiyyih is distracted by a bartender asking her if she knows Kai Huening. “To new adventures and unforgettable memories.”

You clink your glasses, feeling a warm glow spread through your chest. Who knows what kind of trouble you could get into, the night is still young. After downing his drink Yoongi makes his way back to the dance floor. Jimin might miss him if he’s away for too long.

Hiyyih follows Yoongi back to the dance floor and you relocate to another table. You take a seat in the corner of the club catching your breath. A moment away from the constant dancing and hot bodies pressed against yours will do you some good. The tables in this club are covered by a deep purple floor length cloth. For several minutes you sip on your drink watching the sway of bodies dancing in front of you. You think about getting up and dancing with a random person but your feet don’t move.

“Are you okay, YN?” Yoongi asks, sliding into the booth beside you. He leaves a few inches of space looking at you with genuine concern.

“I’m okay. Just needed a break is all.” You reply letting your only slightly tipsy brain act for you.

You slide closer to Yoongi until you are nestled up against his side. He looks taken aback for a moment before he rests an arm around your bare shoulder. His hand slides down to your waist when you stick out your lower lip in a pout.

“I can think of something else that might help you relax.” Yoongi says with a mischievous grin.

You raise an eyebrow, trying to gauge whether or not he’s serious or just playing around. The dim light from the club’s neon lights casts a glow over his face making the mischief in his eyes all more apparent. You let out a small, incredulous laugh.

“Oh, really?” you ask, scooting even tighter against his side. “And what did you have in mind?”

Yoongi’s grin widens, and he leans in so that his lips are almost brushing against your ear. The warmth of his breath sends a shiver down your spine. “I want to see how quiet you can be while I give you head in front of all these people.”

Yoongi’s bold suggestion catches you off guard, and you pull back slightly, your eyes widening in surprise. The words hang in the air, charged with a mix of shock and a flicker of excitement.

“Seriously?” you ask, your voice low but edged with amusement. Surely, you heard him wrong. The idea is bold and audacious, especially in this packed club.

Yoongi’s mischievous grin doesn’t falter. He meets your gaze with an earnest, almost daring look. “Why not? I think you would really enjoy yourself, beautiful.”

You glance around the club, taking in the crowd, the pounding music and the swirling lights. Namjoon, Jimin and Hiyyih are preoccupied, it’s unlikely they will even notice the two of you are gone. The thought of what Yoongi is suggesting sends a thrill through you. Despite the audacity of the idea, the promise of head from Yoongi is hard to resist. He does know just how you like it.

“You’re serious?” You ask, glancing at him with a playful glint in your eyes.

Yoongi’s eyes dance with confidence. “Absolutely. Just say the word.”

You weigh your options in your mind for a moment, feeling a rush of adrenaline and curiosity. Finally, with a nod you smirk. “Alright, let’s do this. But you better make sure it’s worth it.”

“Have I ever disappointed before?” Yoongi asks, his grin broadening before he glances around the room.

Once he determines the coast is clear he ducks under the table cloth. His hands find your thighs as he hikes your skirt up. With a light touch he urges you to part your legs and you quickly comply. You stare straight ahead as his lips meet your skin, ever so close to your core.

He doesn’t waste any time, knowing that there is only a narrow window of time the two of you will be alone. Yoongi pushes your panties to the side and licks a bold strip through your folds. You suck in a deep breath keeping your composure as best as you can. That is quite the feat with your ex flicking his tongue against your clit, just how he knows you like. Lots of things have changed since he left, but that is not one of those things. Even if it was, you are sure Yoongi would find another way to drive you insane. How the fuck did he get so good at this?

The music from the club becomes a distant, pulsating backdrop to Yoongi’s actions making you feel completely centered on him. The sensation is electrifying and the thrill of this risky situation is only heightening your excitement.

Yoongi reaches up your dress to hold your hips and he continues to devour your pussy. You lean forward resting your elbows on the table as you bite your lip. He can’t see how much you want to scream his name that will only make him all the more cocky.

He kisses your pussy, gently licking before he pulls away with a snicker. Under the table, Yoongi wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and starts to get up.

“Nuh uh.” You say, pushing the top of his head back down.

“Wow, a little pushy don’t you think.” He counters, just loud enough for you to hear.

You lift the edge of the table cloth so you can look him in the eyes. “Please, Yoongi. No one can make me cum like you.” You place your index finger under his chin and look at him with your best puppy dog eyes.

Yoongi’s finger finds your clit, his eyes never leaving yours. The moan that leaves your lips is unpreventable. He pulls the tablecloth down so you can’t see but you lean forward resting your head against your forearms on the table. You let soft moans pass your lips knowing it will encourage Yoongi.

He resumes his place between your legs and slips two fingers inside of you. He is really going to be the end of you. How are you supposed to act like everything is normal when pleasure is coursing through every fiber of your being? Yoongi licks with quick flicks of his tongue bringing you closer and closer to the release you so desperately crave.

“YN? Are you okay?” You raise your head to see who is addressing you. Jimin is standing in front of you looking unfairly hot in a white crop top and tight jeans. “Do you know where Yoongi went? I could’ve sworn I saw him over her just a minute ago.”

Yoongi does not halt his tongue, but does still his fingers. It is taking everything in you to not blow your cover. You take a deep shaky breath before answering.

“Why would I want to know where my ex-boyfriend is?”

This prompts Yoongi to suck your clit between his lips. A scream builds in your throat and you cover your mouth to let it out as a cough. You can feel the vibration of Yoongi laughing silently between your legs. With one hand you grab a handful of his hair, threading it through your fingers close to his scalp.

“Considering the shenanigans you’ve been getting up to…” Jimin teases, his voice dripping with playful suspicion.

“Jimin!” You snap back, still trying to maintain a semblance of composure.

The heat from Yoongi’s mouth is overwhelming, making it difficult to focus on anything other than your mounting pleasure. “I really don’t know where he is. Maybe he went to get a drink or something.”

Jimin raises an eyebrow, clearly not convinced but deciding to let it go for now. “Alright, but you look a little flushed. Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nod vigorously, biting your lip to stifle another moan. “Just a little hot in here. I’ll be fine.”

“Alright then. If you see him, let him know I’m looking for him,” Jimin says, giving you a lingering look before turning and walking back towards the dance floor.

As soon as Jimin is out of earshot, Yoongi picks up the pace, his tongue and fingers working in perfect harmony. You release Yoongi’s hair and grip the edge of the table, your knuckles turning white as you struggle to keep your moans quiet enough they won’t be heard over the club’s music. The tension in your body builds rapidly, each flick of Yoongi’s tongue sending you spiraling closer to the edge.

“Yoongi, please,” you stage whisper urgently, your voice trembling with need. “I’m so close.”

He hums against you, the vibration sending shockwaves through your core. His fingers curl inside you, hitting that perfect spot that makes stars explode behind your eyes. Your body arches, toes curling as the pleasure becomes too much to bear. With a final flick of his tongue, Yoongi pushes you over the edge. Your orgasm crashes through you like a tidal wave, your body shuddering. Leaning down you bury your face in your arms, muffling your cries of pleasure the best you can. Somehow the setting makes this hotter and you aren’t sure what that says about you.

Yoongi doesn’t stop until he’s sure you’ve ridden out every last wave of your orgasm. Only then does he gently withdraw, his hands and mouth leaving your trembling body.

“Is anyone watching?” Yoongi asks, peeping up from under the table cloth.

You take a minute to locate your friends in the crowd and find none of them are watching you. Jimin is busy grinding against Jeonghan, the leader of the Fuchsia gym. Hiyyih is egging on strangers to take shots and Namjoon is being sandwiched by Matthew and Woosung. You shake your head. He returns your panties to their proper place leaving one last kiss on your thigh before he emerges from under the table. Yoongi wipes his mouth, which is set in a satisfied smirk, with the back of his hand.

“You’re unbelievable.” you murmur breathlessly, still reeling from the intensity of your climax.

“You asked for it,” Yoongi replies, his eyes twinkling with mischief once again. “And you did so well, keeping quiet like that.”

You can’t help but laugh, the sound a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration. “We should probably get back out there before someone else comes looking for us.”

Yoongi nods, smoothing his hair down from where you pulled it. As you both stand, he leans in close, his breath warm against your ear.

“Let’s do this again sometime, yeah?” he whispers, his voice a low, seductive purr.

You shiver at the promise of his words, a thrill of excitement coursing through you. All logic is lost on you as you reply, “Definitely.”

You catch a glimpse of shock on Yoongi’s face before you skip out into the crowd of dancing people. Hiyyih quickly finds you giving you a look that tells you she knows something is up. The morning debrief is going to be so interesting. The sober conversation you’ll have to have with Yoongi, even more interesting, but for now you must dance.

Hiyyih passes out as soon as she reaches your room. You are still conscious enough to text her brother that she is okay and with you before you too pass out.

The next morning, sunlight streams through the hotel room’s curtain, waking you up earlier than you prefer. You stretch, feeling the residual effects of last night’s alcohol consumption mixed with excitement still buzzing faintly through your veins. Beside you, Hiyyih is sprawled out, her even breathing a testament to how deeply she’s asleep. You smile softly at the sight, grateful for her presence. Even when you’re being a dumb ass she’s still right there.

You carefully extract yourself from bed and tiptoe to the bathroom to freshen up. As you splash water on your face, memories of the previous night flash through your mind, particularly the heated moment with Yoongi. Your reflection stares back at you with a mix of amusement and anxiety. What the fuck are you going to say to him?

Once you’re dressed and ready, you gently shake Hiyyih awake. She groans, pulling the covers over her head in protest. “Come on, Hiyyih,” you coax. “We have to get up. The boys and I are leaving soon. You need to get ready to head to Kai’s.”

She peeks out from under the blanket, her eyes bleary. “Fine, fine,” she grumbles, slowly sitting up. “But only because it’s you.”

As she gets ready, you check your phone and see a message from Yoongi. Your heart skips a beat.

Yoongi: Morning. Let’s talk before we leave. Meet me in the lobby?

You stare at the message for a moment, then type out a quick reply.

You: Okay, see you in a few.

You slip your phone into your pocket, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach. Hiyyih notices you anxious fidgeting as she pulls on her shoes. “Yoongi?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

How much did she pick up on from last night? You haven’t even had time to tell her about the fantastic orgasm he gave you.

“Yeah,” you admit, not meeting her eyes. “He wants to talk.”

Hiyyih smirks, a teasing glint in her eyes. “Well, good luck with that. I’ll pack everything up.”

You head down to the lobby, the anticipation building with each step. Not a single useful idea of what to say is entering your brain. When you arrive you see Yoongi sitting on one of the couches, his posture is relaxed but his expression is serious. He looks up as you approach, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Hey,” he says softly.

“Hey,” you reply, sitting beside him. For a moment, there’s a comfortable silence between you, the kind that speaks of familiarity and unspoken understanding.

“About last night,” Yoongi begins, his tone careful. “I didn’t mean to put you in a difficult position or anything. I just…I enjoy being with you. Always have.”

You nod, your heart pounding. “It was insane, but I enjoyed it too, Yoongi. I guess I just didn’t expect it, and I’m…not so sure now that I don’t want to do it again.”

Yoongi’s eyes widen for a second before he takes a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours. “I meant what I said before. Don’t worry about my feelings, this was just as much fun for me.”

His words send a pang through your chest. How are you supposed to put his love for you on the back burner? This situation is too much for your hungover brain. Maybe the two of you need to talk more once you get back to school. But you do have two more weeks of winter break and Yoongi will be right next door…who knows what might happen.

“We’ll figure it out.” you say, quickly squeezing his hand before letting go.

“Good. Now let’s get ready to go home.”

As you head back to your room, you feel partly relieved and partly filled with even more questions about what any of this could lead to. Back in the room you debrief with Hiyyih about last night's events and the conversation you just had. She warns you to be careful and you promise you will be. You hope you can stay true to that promise.

Hiyyih takes off before you, giving you a long hug. It's really needed in times like this.

When you are leaving you see Hiyyih arranged the things you got for Namjoon’s basket. It's just a few things to remind him of the good parts of home. Nothing big. You grab the basket and carry it to the entrance with the rest of your bags.

There seems to be a commotion happening outside. Professor Oak is standing with his arms crossed over his chest speaking to several stocky men. He is listening to them say something. You step closer so you can hear what is being said.

“I was not told that Yoongi would be staying in Kanto. How do I know you work for his father?” Professor Oak questions as soon as you are in ear shot. “Yoongi specifically asked that his father was not included in these gym leader challenges.”

Your heart drops immediately knowing that these are employees of Yoongi’s father. Have they come to take him away again? Did he know this was going to happen? Your eyes find him and though he’s trying to keep his face neutral you can see fear creeping into his eyes. Namjoon and Jimin just heard Professor Oak insinuate that Yoongi’s father is a gym leader. That is a mess you are probably going to be the one dealing with. Or will they pretend they didn’t hear that until Yoongi wants to tell them?

“Professor Oak, it’s okay.” Yoongi says, glancing towards the men. He takes a deep breath and pushes his hands into his pockets. “My father didn’t tell me he was sending anyone for me. I know who they are. I will leave with them. I just want to say goodbye to YN before I go.”

His eyes scan his surroundings and a look of relief falls on his face when he spots you. The other boys don’t look concerned. Of course, they wouldn’t. Namjoon and Jimin have no idea what's going on. They just looked a little confused. Yoongi walks towards you pulling you into a tight hug.

“Those are my father’s employees.” Yoongi whispers in your ear urgently. “They are taking me back to his gym. I have enough information to keep him satisfied but I think he’s going to be keeping a closer eye on us once I’m back at school, if he lets me come back. I’ll find a way to contact you. Please stay at home and be safe.”

You cling tightly not wanting to let him go back to the place that has hurt and changed him so deeply. Things are just starting to be okay between the two of you. You are so afraid for him to leave your side. What if the cold Yoongi from the beginning of the year makes a reappearance.

“Come back to me safely.” You whisper before releasing him.

His father’s employees guide him away from the car Professor Oak hailed. They aren’t putting their hands on Yoongi, but you have no doubt they would if he started resisting. Please be okay. Please find your way home.

“YN, you and Namjoon will be heading back to Paldea on your own.” Professor Oak says once Yoongi is out of sight. “Jimin is heading home to be with his family for the remainder of the break as am I. I wish you safe travels and I will see you in two weeks!”

Professor Oak speaks to the driver before heading back into the hotel. Namjoon gets in the car and you turn to Jimin. You are wondering why he even bothered coming down here. Maybe he just wanted to say bye. His face is riddled with concern and you hate that you can’t tell him anything.

“Is Yoongi going to be okay?” Jimin asks quietly.

“I think so. If he doesn’t come back to school then we need to worry.” Jimin only looks more concerned as you speak, but that is all you can tell him. “Don’t worry about it. Go enjoy time with your family.”

Jimin glances at the path they lead Yoongi down. He sighs before stepping closer to you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders. Jimin strokes the back of your head twice before he pulls away. He says see you soon and then you are left to get into the car with Namjoon. It’s a long ride back to Paldea and you have a brain full of shit to think about.

Once settled in the car, Namjoon offers a reassuring smile as the vehicle starts moving. The driver puts up the window between the front of the cab and where you are sitting. The landscape of Kanto slowly receded into the background. You try to sit back and let the tension from the morning melt away, but not even the rhythmic hum of the car can soothe your nerves.

Namjoon breaks the silence first. “You okay? The last few days have seemed really…intense for you.”

You sigh, turning to look at him. “Yeah, it has been. I’ve got a lot on my mind and I guess I’m worried about Yoongi.”

Namjoon nods in understanding. “I get it, but Yoongi’s a strong guy. He’ll find a way to handle whatever it is.”

Namjoon’s calm demeanor is calming. It’s one of the things that makes him such a reliable person. “Thanks, I hope you’re right.”

After a pause, Namjoon changes the subject, perhaps sensing you could really use a distraction. “So, what’s in the basket? Looks like you’ve gathered some special items.”

You smile, reaching for the basket and presenting it to him. The thought of the basket brings a much needed positive turn to this conversation. “Just some things to remind you of home. You know, the good parts. I figured it might help when you get homesick.”

Namjoon’s eyes light up with gratitude. “That’s really thoughtful, YN. Thank you.”

The car falls into a comfortable silence, the kind that exists between friends who don’t need to fill every moment with words. Also, both of you are still tired from last night's shenanigans. For a while you watch the scenery change, appreciating the soft winter light.

Hours later, Namjoon speaks again, his tone more introspective. “It’s funny, isn’t it? How much everything changes when you’re away at school. The people you meet, the experiences you have…it’s like a whole different world.”

You nod, thinking of the whirlwind of emotions from the last few days alone. “Yeah, it really is. Sometimes I feel like I’ve lived a whole lifetime since college started.”

Namjoon chuckles softly. “I know what you mean. But I guess that’s part of the adventure, right? Growing, learning, making mistakes and figuring things out as you go.”

His words resonate with you. Despite all the uncertainty, there’s always excitement in your journey. Becoming the champion was never going to be easy and you’ve always known that. You are prepared to put your all into getting to where you want to go. “Absolutely. I’m so glad I met you and the rest of them.”

Namjoon gives you a warm smile. “Same here, YN. Same here.”

The conversation shifts to lighter topics like classes, favorite professors, and plans for the rest of break. The miles pass by unnoticed by both of you as you enjoy the conversation. Your stop is first and Namjoon ever the gentleman helps you carry your stuff to the front door.

“See you in two weeks.” Namjoon says, giving you a side hug. “I’m just a call away if you get bored.”

You return his hug looking up at him with a genuine smile. Maybe everything will work itself out eventually. The next two terms are surely going to be the craziest you’ve ever experienced. But you think you are ready for it with all the people in your life.

“Noted. Don’t get too bored without me there.”

Namjoon can’t stop smiling as he walks back to the car. You wait until the car has gone off to make your way inside. Mom and Dad are waiting for you. They pull you into a tight hug and drag you to the living room so you can tell them everything.

Of course, you leave out the details no parent needs to know, but telling them about everything you’ve done is fun. They have always been your biggest fans, and they are excited to hear about you doing what you’ve been dreaming of for years.

“I made your favorite cookies!” Mom says once there is a lull in the conversation.

You jump up running to the kitchen in search of said cookies. They are still warm when you take the first bite and the flavor is a welcomed piece of home bursting over your tongue. Your mom laughs at your excitement. She watches with a sweet smile. You think she must’ve missed you.

“I’m going to rest for a while.” You tell Mom after devouring three cookies. “You can meet my new pokemon later.”

She nods, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head. It's a little strange being home after living somewhere else for the last few months. Everything is just as you left it besides the clothes your mother left out. She likes to shop when she goes on trips.

A wave of stress washes over you as you lie back on your bed. There is so much that you don’t know and so much that could happen. You let your pokemon free and they wander around your room. Spark snuggles up beside you and you pat his head.

The rest of your vacation is spent in your family home. You heed Yoongi’s warning and don’t step outside unless you absolutely have to. He doesn’t contact you and every passing day fills you with more and more anxiety. Talking to Namjoon on the phone has helped ease your worries a little bit. When you are talking to him you forget all your stressors for a second, but when he hangs up you worry why Yoongi hasn’t contacted you.

═════════∘◦❀◦∘══════════

Your parents leave the night before you go back to school. Something about an emergency discovery that needs both of their expertise. After so many years of this you don’t listen as closely as you should. But you are sure they will publish a paper about whatever they are doing. You can read it then. It’s okay you spent plenty of time with them over the last two weeks.

Sitting in the living room with Sriracha in your lap you hear a knock on the door. You jump because you are not expecting anyone. People close to you would let you know they were coming over if they could. Slowly, you rise from your seat and creep towards the entrance of the house. Your charmander follows closely behind ready to spring into action if needed. Through the curtain you see a very distraught looking Yoongi. You immediately unlock the door and pull him inside. Closing the door and locking it behind you.

Yoongi is disheveled. He looks like he hasn’t changed his clothes in days and there are dark circles under his eyes. He drops his bag onto the floor of the entryway. Something is very wrong.

“Are you okay?” You ask pulling him into a hug.

He clings to you like he thinks you might slip away at any moment. His body begins shaking as he sobs into your shoulder. Your heart sinks at the sound and you pull him towards the couch where he leans against your shoulder with his hand clenching the sleeve of your sweater.

“He killed Circus.”

Your breath catches in your throat at Yoongi’s words. Circus was one of his newer pokemon but that does not mean he didn’t deeply care for her. The bond Yoongi has with his pokemon is rare. There is nothing he wouldn’t do for them. You gently stroke his hair, trying to offer some comfort as he continues to cry.

“I’m so sorry Yoongi,” You whisper, your voice barely above a murmur.

He takes a shaky breath and pulls back slightly to look at you, his eyes are red and puffy. “I tried to stop him. I tried to protect Circus, but…he was too powerful. I couldn’t do anything.” His voice cracks as he speaks, and he wipes his eyes with the back of his hand.

You nod sympathetically, feeling a surge of anger and sadness for him. “We’ll figure this out,” you say, trying to sound reassuring. Really all you want to do is go to Kanto with every powerful person you know and make his father pay for what he’s done to his son. Several minutes later when Yoongi has calmed down a little bit you speak again, “Is anyone at home?”

“My mom is there.” Yoongi sighs, looking at you with pleading eyes. “Please don’t make me go home. I can’t explain this to her.”

“Yoongi, I’m not going to kick you out, but I do want an explanation of how you got here.”

“Okay, but let me take a shower first. It’s been a few days and I’m sure I’m pretty smelly.”

He’s not wrong but you would never say that to his face, especially in the state he’s in. Yoongi gets up and walks towards your bathroom like he has so many times before. You decide to make him a meal while you wait for him to shower. He takes his time and you are sure the shower must feel heavenly after not showering for days.

Yoongi comes out wearing his own clothes that were left in your dresser many months ago. Back when the two of you were still dating. When life was so much simpler. You almost choke when you see he’s decided to just wear boxers and a black shirt. His wet hair is slicked back and it is not helping the impure thoughts you should not be having after what he just went through. Still this house feels cozier with him here, like something was missing before he arrived.

“Thank you.” Yoongi says, taking a plate of the food you made and sitting beside you at the table. He is sitting with his legs spread apart and it's taking everything in you not to look down at his crotch like a pervert. “So, the story is I could not get any messages out despite having my phone. He has some kind of jammer working down there. I was planning an escape the whole time. After he killed Circus I had to get out of there. At night he was a lot more careless about his watch on me. I had to battle a lot of guards, but eventually I escaped.”

“I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“We need to leave for Mesagoza first thing in the morning.” Yoongi says, after swallowing a bite of food. “Professor Oak has set up some precautions that will make it very difficult for Team Rocket to enter. It’s the safest place we can be right now. They are already coming after me. I fought them off my whole journey here.”

You nod agreeing to do what he wants. It was already the plan that you would leave tomorrow morning anyways. Now you get to do it with Yoongi instead of being alone. Once Yoongi finishes eating he insists on washing the dishes. After that the two of you head towards your bedroom to go to sleep.

“Where are you going?” You ask Yoongi when he walks around the corner from your room.

“To the guest room?” Yoongi replies in a tone that makes it sound more like a question.

Your face flames as you realize what you’ve just done. It’s been years since Yoongi slept in that room. You are so used to him staying with you. It feels wrong to see him turning the corner. You follow Yoongi around the corner, trying to mask the awkwardness with a forced smile.

“I…I guess I just assumed you would stay in my room,” you admit, feeling a little embarrassed. “It’s been awhile since you used the guest room.”

Yoongi stops and looks at you with a raised eyebrow. You can see a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “I thought you would want me to stay in the guest room.”

You shuffle your feet, feeling the weight of recent decisions. “No, it’s not that. It just feels so strange to see you going to the guest room after everything. You know…”

Yoongi’s expression softens, but there’s a flicker of something, maybe it's nostalgia or regret.

“Yeah, I get it,” he says quietly. “If you’re okay with it, I’ll stay with you.”

You nod, trying to ignore the fluttering in your stomach. What the hell is going on in your stupid little head? “Of course.”

It's hard to forget the two times you hooked up recently while you are watching him walk around your house in just his boxers and a thin shirt. He needs your comfort right now, not whatever horny thoughts are clouding your mind.

When Yoongi returns, he sees you sitting on your bed fidgeting with the bedding. He lies beside you on his stomach for a moment before turning on his side and stretching out his arms. You get up to turn the lights off before settling into his arms. His touch is familiar, but it carries the weight of his unspoken words. You know how he feels about you and you are enabling it. But the familiarity of his embrace feels like balm, soothing the olds wounds and easing the tension. Are you having a change of heart or are you just comfortable?

“I never thought I’d be here again.” Yoongi murmurs against your head. “It’s kind of weird.”

You chuckle, feeling relief because this is just Yoongi. No matter how weird this might be to everyone else it makes sense to you. “Yeah it is. But it’s kind of nice. Like some things haven’t changed, even if we have.”

Yoongi hums in agreement. “I guess some things don’t change. Even when they probably should.” It’s funny that he says that when he wants things to go back to how they used to be. Isn’t his end goal to win you back? A lot of things have changed. Even if you got back together how you once were it would not be the same. His trauma has changed him as a person. His words linger in the air, carrying a weight that you both understand, but struggle to articulate. You snuggle closer to Yoongi, his warmth enveloping you like a shield against the uncertainties waiting for you outside. “Thank you for not pushing me away.”

You can feel the sincerity in his words, and it tugs at the corners of your heart. The emotional distance between you feels like it’s shrinking with each breath you take and that is terrifying after working so hard to achieve that distance. You have always been able to read Yoongi well, and now, more than ever, you sense the depth of his regret. Even if it wasn’t his fault entirely. He is longing for something familiar in the chaos that is his life right now.

“Yoongi,” you say quietly, shifting slightly so you can look into his eyes. “I’ve been thinking about us a lot. About how things have changed, and about what you’ve been through.”

Yoongi meets your gaze, his eyes reflecting a mix of apprehension and hope. “I know,” he replies. “Things are different now. We’re different. But…sometimes, it feels like the old us is still there, just under the surface.”

You nod, understanding the sentiment. “Yeah, it feels like that for me too. But even though we can’t go back to how things were, maybe we can find a new way forward.”

Yoongi’s grip on you tightens slightly, as if he’s trying to hold onto the moment before it slips away. “I’d like that. I really would.”

There’s a pause as both of you take in the gravity of the conversation. The silence that follows is comfortable, filled with the unspoken agreement that this moment is special, despite the complications of your past.

“Let’s just…be here for now. We can figure out whatever this means later.”

Yoongi’s hand gently strokes your hair, and he presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Yeah, let’s do that. For now, I’m just glad to be here with you.”

You close your eyes, feeling the steady rise and fall of Yoongi’s chest beneath your cheek. In the safety of your childhood bedroom you allow yourself to embrace the warmth and security of being close to someone who has always been a significant part of your life. You drift off into the most peaceful sleep you’ve had in the last two weeks.

#route 613 #route 613 chapter 8 #namjoon x reader #yoongi x reader #namjoon x you #yoongi x you #yoongi smut #smut #bts smut #Kim namjoon #min yoongi #fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction

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ruscha · 4 months

Text

ii. quarantine

cooper & barb // post-1.8, pre-war wc: 961 // no warnings

Following his fateful espionage and the terrible truth that came with it, Cooper couldn’t get out of bed for days. The sun floated across the expansive windows of his bedroom like a regular circling buzzard, eyeing his lifeless form, licking its lips; as did the moon, a hungry fly just waiting for the corpse to smell.

Janey visited him frequently, asking whether it was the flu or the pox and if she could please stay home from school to read him stories. Roosevelt napped next to him in the afternoons, offering consoling whines and occasionally burying his nose into Cooper’s side to elicit a pet or two.

The night after he had visited Vault-Tec's LA office for the last time, Barb came home late with Pip-Boy in hand, her eyes sunken and wet from crying. Cooper was doubled over at the dining room table with a half-finished bottle of scotch next to him when she walked in, his limbs and head posed limp and awkward like one of Janey’s fabric dolls. The listening device was sitting matter-of-factly on the table between his hands, giving off a tiny static hum in correspondence with the Pip-Boy's gentle beeping. Cooper had been too shell-shocked to think about destroying it once he made it back to the house; his mind was too far away to care anymore.

There were very few words spoken between them. Barb had thought of plenty to say that afternoon when the nagging suspicion in her stomach turned to appalling realization— her husband had come to the office to see her and then left suddenly, said her secretary, and boy did he seem different than on TV, so much meeker, said Henry— but all of that anger had settled now. In its place was a hollowness; an impassable chasm. In a way, her heart had already prepared for the worst.

A week went by. Cooper’s agent called about an upcoming Vault-Tec commercial, and Barb politely took a message for him. Coop could just barely see her through the crack in the bedroom door, her feet tapping rhythmically on the tile as she forced a smile through the phone. So composed in her discomposure.

Time stopped mattering to him in the fog. No matter how many friends stopped by about a cancelled dinner party or agents called to beg him back to work, Cooper couldn’t bring himself to do much of anything other than bathe and sleep, smoke the occasional cigarette, attempt to eat some of the food that Barb would instruct Janey to bring to his room. His mind was a wash of dizzying thoughts, each more contradictory than the last. A mushroom cloud of incomprehensible things was churning within him, devouring him from the inside.

He loved her.

She had helped to plot the end of the world.

Was it all inevitable? Was she simply foretelling the future? What a horrible future for Janey. What of the dogs, and horses, and films, and trees, and sky, and who were these ghouls parading around in patriot’s clothing while proclaiming that humanity was unsalvageable, unchangeable, worth losing?

He loved her. And she spoke about the end of the world as if it were a good idea. A pragmatic solution. Billions gone in an instant. And she had worked so hard. Fought so hard to get to where she was in the company. They had fought about Bakersfield, and the Good Vaults. She wanted to keep Janey safe in one of the Good Vaults.

The mushroom cloud roiled.

Janey, but not Roosevelt. What kind of future is that? A future where only a select few survive, trapped underground for centuries, the blood of the rest of the world slowly dripping onto their heads? What of the horses, and dogs, and waterfalls, and mountains, and apple pie, and he loved her, and she lied to him, and he loved her, and she used him to sell it, to sell the end, the end of everything, he would be the face of it, his face plastered on a billboard, his face on the bomb, and he loved her and he wanted with every fiber of his being to burn that Vault-Tec building to the ground behind him as he left that day but he couldn’t do it, he didn’t have the gasoline, he was a coward, and he loved her, and he hated her, and what would happen to the future? Who would stop it? Who can stop it? When will it stop—

Cooper found himself awake again, drenched in sweat. He was hunched over the side of the bed in a daze as the smallest sprinkle of moonlight poured onto the floor in front of his feet.

A rustling over his left shoulder. He turned to see Barb’s silhouette in the doorway, solemn. As if in mourning.

“Your agent called again,” she muttered with careful resolve to mask the trembling. “They’ve decided to terminate your contract after the no-shows.”

He mustered a nod in response, still unable to look her in the eye. His tongue stuck dry and heavy to the roof of his mouth.

“It’s— probably for the best,“ she continued after an awful pause, the lump in her throat now readily apparent in her words. She put a hand to her mouth to steady herself. “People are saying they saw you at meetings. With communists.”

Cooper stiffened. Images of nails in coffins flashed across the inside of his eyelids.

He took in a large breath for what felt like the first time, then turned to finally meet his wife face-to-face. She was only a shadow now— ghostly and distant. He regretted the waning moonlight’s ability to hide her eyes from him; he desperately wanted to look into her eyes one last time.

“Guess the show’s over, then,” He replied, a strange pang of relief coating his otherwise hoarse whisper.

The room went still.

The mushroom cloud billowed inside him.

#can. not. stop. writing about their impending divorce sorry #drabbles #fallout posting #ghoulposting #fallout prime #cooper howard #barb howard #cb fics #barbcoop

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tenpintsof-sundrop · 3 months

Note

To everyone criticizing or complaining about this incredibly talented author addressing the comments on their work: please understand that you don't have to engage with content you don't wish to see.

It's unbelievable and childish that some of you are losing it over how an author reacts to criticism of their work. Consider this: you're going out of your way to attack someone who has dedicated time and effort to create something for your enjoyment, just because you can't recognize that the story is about a grown adult who doesn't need coddling and can handle some harsh words. Grow the fuck up.

Spencer is not a child. Has he gone through some pretty messed up stuff? Yes! But that doesn’t mean we need to baby him and shield him from all the terror out there. Many people in the fandom have gone out of their way to tear apart an incredible character, stripping away his autistic traits and infantilizing him.

Believe me when I say this: a few harsh words won’t destroy him to the point where he needs to be wrapped in a blanket and coddled because his feelings got hurt. Have any of you considered how absurd that is, especially given that he works in a field where he’s constantly exposed to corpses, crime scenes, and serial killers?

The point is, some of you need to start appreciating the effort writers put into creating something for your entertainment. A story doesn’t write itself; it has to be thought through, written, revised multiple times, and published before it reaches you. No writer, unless specifically requested, writes with one person in mind. Some stories might catch your attention, and some won’t. If you’re not interested in one, move on and find one that does interest you. If you liked a story but didn’t enjoy certain aspects, find another one. If you can’t find anything you like, write your own. Stop bothering authors just because they write for themselves and the fandom, and not specifically for you.

Lastly, if you don’t have anything nice to say, then don’t say anything. Your input is neither necessary nor asked for.

To the author: Thank you for providing us with multiple incredible stories, and I’m very sorry you have to deal with this stupidly childish behavior.

While I hate to see you go, I’m glad you’re doing what’s right for you. Sending lots of love!

I have been doing a lot of moving chores today so I am too tired to do a very in depth reply to this - but I just wanna say: yeah. You are very smart. Everything you said - applause. Good job.

People in the fandom have literally said that Jason Gideon is a "predator" for luring Spencer into the FBI and "forcing" him to do that job, when it's a job that Spencer clearly cares about a lot (and Spencer is a certified fucking genius with multiple doctorates and big big credentials - so he could get any job he wants and he CHOSE the FBI)

Also people have said that Derek leaving to raise his son (after he named his son after Spencer and called Spencer the best little brother ever) - was him "abandoning" Spencer. Derek Morgan making the right choices for his family was him ABANDONING SPENCER

Spencer is not a baby. He is a grown man

And people either approach fanfiction with the attitude that he's OOC - a completely allistic neurotypical Daddy (borderline sociopath) hard dom with 0 emotions who doesn't give a fuck about anybody else's emotions who is only there to have very rough sex and that is it. OR - he is a puddle of tears and trauma who is a big baby crying all the time and he needs to be wrapped in soft blankets and if anybody looks at him the wrong way or says one bad word to him, he will crumble, at that person is Evil. If anybody in the BAU (like JJ) says something bad to him - they are evil incarnate and they are as bad as every single UnSub that the team has ever taken down.

When my fics take a mid level approach - that Spencer is allowed to be emotional and be yelled at, and his intense emotions get out of control and also hurt other people - the fandom cannot handle that take at all.

Anyway - thank you for saying all that you have said even if I have only managed to respond to one part of it 😂

#sundrop answers #fanfiction #Spencer Reid #anonymous

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houseoffourcats · 1 year

Text

What Do You Need to Know Right Now? Pick a Pile and Find Out!

14 July 2023

If you enjoy this reading, please consider getting a personalized reading through my Etsy page. Thanks for your support!

Pile One

VI of Swords - IV of Coins - The Magician

The VI of Swords tells me that you escaped something hard if not downright traumatic - an abusive relationship, a toxic family, or a bad job, for instance. The process of getting out of that situation was by itself a long, difficult and even dangerous path. As a result, as seen in the IV of Coins, you’re careful not to lose what you managed to keep through all this. You don’t trust other people easily, and keep your resources - internal as well as material - out of sight so others don’t try to destroy them or use them against you.

The Magician calls upon you to do something new to come into your own after surviving that. In contrast to how the figure in the IV of Coins hides part of herself as well as her resources, his posture is open, his arms where people can see them… though he remains somewhat mysterious, draped as he is in black robes. More than that, though, he’s powerful, channeling strong forces through what he has - though it may not seem like much - to make big changes.

You shouldn’t have had to go through whatever it was you escaped from, and your wariness is completely understandable. When you’re ready, though, you can use the qualities and skills that got you through the difficult times, and any material resources you’ve kept throughout, to reclaim your power. The best case scenario is being able to use your experience in a transformative way, making things easier for other people experiencing what you did or preventing it from happening to others in the first place.

Pile Two

Ace of Swords - Page of Coins - The High Priestess (Reversed)

You have a great new idea, as represented by the Ace of Swords. Maybe it’s a project like a book or an invention, or a new way of thinking about things that informs the rest of your life. The Page of Coins shows that you’ve already set to learning how to put the idea into practice and laying a solid foundation for what comes next.

The thing is, though, you’re still learning, and not everything is intuitive yet - far from it. To make matters worse, there’s some bad advice out there (hopefully not what you’re reading here!), a lot of it coming from people with ulterior motives. The High Priestess warns you to be aware of what you don’t know, including who has your best interests at heart.

Your idea is a good one, even if there’s a steep learning curve. Do your research and think things through. Is that degree program or “boot camp” training a good investment, or is it a scam? Is the person who wants to work with you on this reliable, or will they try to take advantage? Also ask advice from those you know you can trust, especially if you know anyone who’s actually done something like this before. If you make it past this early stage without things going horribly wrong, you’ll get to the point of being able to make decisions in this area of your life with no problem.

Pile Three

Queen of Wands - The Hermit (Reversed) - III of Coins (Reversed)

The Queen of Wands and the reversed Hermit are two very different people here. The Queen of Wands is very driven and confident, and can be more than a bit impatient when it comes to getting things done. The Hermit reversed is directionless and doubting, thoughtful to a fault. The III of Coins reversed suggests here that this doesn’t make for a good partnership, whichever side of this dynamic you’re on.

It makes sense, in a way, why you would be drawn to each other. If you’re the Queen of Wands, you want someone who’s not going to try to usurp you, as it were. If you’re the reversed Hermit, making all the big decisions would be overwhelming, so having someone to do that piece of things is a must. It’s just that you’re too much the opposite of each other to work out, romantically, professionally or otherwise.

When you call this partnership quits, though, see what you can learn from it. Can you communicate your frustration with a delay in a kinder way, if you’re the Queen of Wands? If, on the other hand, you’re the Hermit reversed, can you ask for help making a decision earlier so you don’t agonize over it endlessly before getting anything done? This will help you develop a healthy relationship with someone, where your needs and skills complement one another’s rather than clashing.

—

I hope you enjoyed today’s reading! If so, please head over to my Etsy page for a more personalized reading at an affordable price.

In the meantime, though, here are Arya and Sam enjoying the cool tiles of the kitchen together:

#pick a pile #pick a card #tarotblr #tarot reading #tarot #bonus cat picture

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jacquelinemerritt · 1 year

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Dragon Ball Z: Abridged Episode 59 Review

Originally posted September 13th, 2018

Awful parenting meets great storytelling.

Goku is an awful parent.

Up until now, that idea has been present in Dragonball Z: Abridged mostly as subtext, with it being most blatant in the way Gohan reacts whenever he has been forced to think about his relationship with his father, but here, in The Hard Cell, that subtext is made into explicit text, as Piccolo speaks out in righteous fury as Goku sends his son in to fight Cell, and then gives Cell a Senzu bean in order to give Gohan a fair fight.

I knew this was coming, as it’s one of the few moments in Dragonball that is so famous I couldn’t avoid having it spoiled, but even having it spoiled, the sheer shock of Goku’s recklessness and lack of care for his son was downright paralyzing when I first saw it, with the only relief being hearing Piccolo criticize Goku for his absolutely horrendous decision making and logic.

This is, without any doubt, an act of child abuse, and that reality is acknowledged here not only by Piccolo, who is even more furious with Goku in the abridged version than he was in the original (and he was downright pissed there), but also by the entire world around Goku, as Jimmy Firecracker publicly lambasts Goku for sending his son into a battle he himself was already losing, and Chi Chi madly picks up her TV and swings it around the room in a fit of blinding and justified rage.

That moment is pivotal, and thanks to Team Four Star’s stellar editing, voice-work, and writing, it feels exactly like the betrayal it is meant to be, with Goku’s decision to heal Cell using a Senzu bean coming off as particularly awful, since we hear Gohan’s thoughts just before as he realizes that he might have a chance against Cell. We even see that Goku’s plan is a complete failure, as Cell closes out the episode by wailing on Gohan, who lies caught by Cell’s attacks, being beaten to a pulp.

Without a doubt, Goku’s betrayal of Gohan here is the most important part of the episode, but the way it’s built to is equally compelling. This episode starts with Cell and Goku finally stepping up their game and beginning to actually fight each other, with Cell’s own obsession with Goku driving him to destroy his meticulously constructed arena, not realizing that Goku is far more interested in a casual fight than anything so grand and long-term as Cell dreamed.

It’s ironic, hilarious, and compelling to see their mutual attraction capped off like this, and it fits perfectly with Cell’s already obsessive behavior for him to want more than from this relationship than Goku, who has always been similarly non-committal, as we saw when he abandoned Freeza the moment he got bored.

There is a perfect balance maintained here that makes it absolutely satisfying to see Cell disappointed by Goku, while still feeling completely betrayed when Goku throws his son to the wolves, and yet even more compelling than that is the strange faith the Goku has in Gohan. As bad a parent as Goku is, he is about as far from being insincere about anything as you can get with a character, and for all the horror that throwing an 11-year old against a murderous monster is, you can’t deny that Goku genuinely believes in the capabilities of his son.

Goku’s actions here are objectively pretty horrendous, and the narrative does everything to reinforce that, but even with all of that going against him, the sheer faith Goku has in his son leaves us with a sense of hope that somehow, someway, Gohan is going to pull through against Cell.

A fool’s hope, to be sure, but a necessary bit of hope indeed.

Rating: 4.5/5

Stray Observations

As dark of a joke as it is, it feels entirely in character for Master Roshi to be in the sex-offender registry, and his reluctant acknowledgement of that throws a good bit of shade at Toriyama for unironically embracing Master Roshi’s perverted behavior, and by association, anime’s legitimately awful trend of normalizing pervy characters, especially old men.

Critical Eye Criticism is the work of Jacqueline Merritt, a trans woman, filmmaker, and critic. You can support her continued film criticism addiction on Patreon.

#dragon ball z abridged #dragon ball z #team four star #tfs #dbz #dbza #dbza ep59 #here we are #the last review of DBZA i wrote for this blog #it would seem as if something is missing though #i wonder if i am going to finish this review series #and finally close out this project i've been doing on and off for seven years

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excessive-vampires · 15 days

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Dealing With Demons Chapter 15: Raising the Stakes Part 2: Cee

Masterlist with CW

Taglist: @demyxdancer @softvampirewhump @d-cs

A little ways away from me, Riley called a bunch of different very official people and told them that we needed all the help we could get.

Chewing my bottom lip, I wondered if Cliff had been trying to kill me. He knew that Riley’s team had been the ones to drag me out of his weird evil ritual basement, so my being at the Bureau base was a safe assumption. Hell, I had been there just a few minutes before the explosion. Cliff had said that my existence would make whatever he was trying to do easier, but that didn’t mean that he couldn't perform the ritual with me dead. Maybe he had decided the risk outweighed the reward.

I wasn’t scared of dying, not since meeting Avi, though I definitely wanted to stay alive for as long as possible. But I was afraid of Avi being destroyed somehow. If I died then we lost my body and the life we had worked so hard to build which would be a real fucking bummer, but if they died, though, I would lose them. I couldn’t lose them. I couldn’t do this on my own, it was why I had summoned them in the first place.

I felt panic starting to rise in me and made myself take deep breaths. The last thing I needed was to spiral into an anxiety attack. Especially while I was alone.

Avi wasn’t going to die. That’s what I told myself over and over again. Riley and a team of government agents, and me if I could help it, were going to storm into Cliff’s house and save them and Dezi and Clara and Maximilian and Andrew Bell and Ceasar and everyone else. Everything was going to turn out fine. It had to. I sold my soul and my body for a chance at happiness and like hell was I going to let one power-hungry man take it away from me.

Riley walked over to where I was standing.

“A joint task force will be ready in twenty-four hours.”

“A day? We don’t have a day!”

“You don’t know that.”

“Oh right, because Cliff would definitely give the organization trying to stop him time to recover before enacting his evil plan.”

“Well, it’s not like I can do anything to make them get their shit together faster.”

“Then we’ll have to do this ourselves.”

“How the hell are we supposed to do anything to stop Mason? Neither of us can even cast spells!”

“What about your amulet? You can use artifacts!”

“This amulet was enchanted for me by my grandmother, even if we could get to the Bureau’s vault somehow any other artifact would be useless in my hands!”

“Whatever! You’ve been studying magic your entire life, and my body has been used as a conduit for magic for five years, we can figure something out!”

“No! This is crazy!” They started to turn to walk away.

“Riley! For once in your life, step off the sidelines!” I threw my hands up in the air in anger and for emphasis.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Riley turned back to face me.

“You’re passive! You just let things happen to you without taking an active role in your life!”

“I’m passive? You sold your agency to a demon because you were too lazy to fix whatever was wrong with your life the right way!”

Anger flared up within me like the start of an inferno. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh really, when’s the last time you actually tried to repair any of the relationships in your life instead of running away?”

“When’s the last time you talked to your parents?”

Riley took a step back. “That’s not fair.”

I took a step forward. “Isn’t it?”

“You’re telling me there was no one in your old life who truly cared for and understood you?”

Bev’s face filled my mind, I felt nauseous and turned away from Riley. “This is pointless.”

“No, get back here.” They grabbed me by the shoulder and turned me around. “So there was someone important to you that you just left? Did you even say goodbye? At least I’ve never been that cold.”

I punched them in the gut, and when they bent down in pain I punched them again in the face.

I felt the small bones in my hand crunch as sharp pain lanced up through my arm. I didn’t scream though, I made no sound other than a harsh hiss. As far as I could remember I’d only ever screamed in pain once, as a teenager, after tripping and landing on my elbow when I fell. And that was met with a scolding about how the neighbors would call the police if I didn’t quiet down. Since then all the screams inside me always got stuck behind the fear of being innapropriate. It hurt just as much as the broken bones to know I still had that fear.

“Shit, what is your problem?” Riley straightened up, rubbing their face.

“Don’t you dare think you know what I’ve been through!” The tightness in my throat almost strangled my voice.

“Okay, I’m sorry.” They seemed surprised to see me close to tears. Then they saw me clutching my hand. “Great, now I have to take you to the hospital.”

“No.” I had an idea.

“No?”

“I think… I think I can heal it.”

“Cee, healing magic is the most complicated magic there is, you could seriously fuck up your hand by trying this. Besides, how would you even draw the rune?”

“I don’t need a rune.”

“Fantastic, you’re delusional.”

“Listen! I remember how it felt when Avi would heal me. I remember the feeling of tapping into the mana of a soul and bending it into the shape it needed to be with just a thought instead of a rune. I just need to do that with my soul, and then I can heal my hand.”

“So you’re raising the stakes from fucking up your hand to killing yourself.”

“I can do this! I know it. Just shut up so I can concentrate.”

“Cee—”

“Shut up, Riley!”

I shut my eyes and focussed until I could feel the mana radiating from my soul. I remembered the way it felt for my skin and bones to knit themselves back together in seconds and I remembered the pathway the mana took through my body to make that happen. Then I took my soul into my metaphysical hands just like I remembered Avi doing with the souls of others and molded it to fit my needs.

The bones in my hand snapped back into place and the pain faded. I opened my eyes and immediately the world started spinning. Suddenly I was on the ground and Riley was kneeling in front of me.

“Cee?! Cee, are you okay?”

I held up my healed hand and wiggled my fingers. “I did it!”

“Holy fuck.” Riley helped me up.

“It just took a lot out of me. But this proves my point! We don’t have to wait for everyone else to come save us! We can stop Cliff ourselves!” My success had just strengthened my determination to save Avi.

“No. It’s still a suicide mission. And one that we’ll fail.”

“But we have to at least try!” I begged.

“Why? What good will trying do if we know we can’t win?” They sounded as if they’d already been defeated.

“We won’t know we can’t win unless we try! Would you rather spend the rest of your life regretting not doing something just because you’re afraid of the outcome?” Maybe that was hypocritical, but I didn’t care.

“Okay, you can do magic, but what about me? I’d just be a burden in a fight.”

“You’ve been around magic your whole life, you know the theory and the runes and the process. You should be an incredibly powerful caster, we just have to figure out what’s holding you back.”

“There’s nothing holding me back, I just can’t do it!” They tried to walk away again but I stepped in front of them and got in their face as much as I could considering the height difference between us.

“Everyone can do magic! I never even knew magic existed before I found a spellbook and I still managed to summon a demon!”

“Well, I’m not you.” Riley frowned and looked away.

I huffed. “Alright. You’ve tried spells before, right? What went wrong?”

Riley looked like they were going to try to change the subject, so I gave them my best glare. They relented. “I draw the rune, I picture what I want to happen, I try to bring forth my mana, and I can feel it. I just can’t do anything with it.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know!”

“Yes you do!”

“No I don’t!”

“Think!” I grabbed Riley’s shoulders. “What’s stopping you from taking that last step?!”

“I’m scared, okay!” They pulled away. “It’s scary to take what you are and try to shape it into what you need it to be! What if something goes wrong? What if I get hurt? What if… what if I’m not enough?”

“Riley…” How should I word my response? “Do you really want to spend your entire life hiding because of a problem that might not even exist? You are enough. Whether you can do magic or not. But that won’t matter if you don’t even try to do your job! Help me save everyone!”

“You’re being selfish, you know. I’m just a researcher, it’s not my job to risk my life and no one I love is in danger.”

“What if Sil dies? How will you feel then if you didn’t do everything possible to stop the man that killed her?”

For a second I thought Riley was going to return the punch I’d given them, but then they deflated. I decided to keep pushing.

“Riley, you’re a good person, I know you are. You know Cliff is hurting people and you want to help stop him whether he hurts your loved ones or not. So help me. Please.”

Riley looked down and for a minute I thought I’d fucked up and said the wrong thing. I thought I’d have to try to rescue Avi alone. Then they looked back up, their face a mask of grim determination.

“Okay, I’ll try. And if I can manage to cast a spell, I’ll fight him with you.”

“Yes! Thank you!” I almost laughed in relief. “Okay, do you have something to draw with?”

They pulled a washable marker out of their pocket. “I keep an extra, for Sil.”

“Good. Now, what’s the easiest spell you know the rune for?”

“I think…” They uncapped the marker and drew on their palm. “There. Light.”

“Okay, now cast it.”

Riley held out their arm, clenched their jaw, and stared intently at their hand.

“Riley, if you’re trying to copy Sil this won’t work, you have to cast it like you.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Whatever you think it means.”

Riley sighed. They held their hand in front of them, palm up, and closed their eyes.

“You can do this, Riley. You just have to trust yourself.”

They took a deep breath, and another, and another. They held their breath for a moment, and as they exhaled their palm began to glow.

“Riley, it’s working!”

They opened their eyes and started laughing. “Oh my god! I just did magic! An actual spell!” The light went out as their concentration broke.

I was overjoyed that I’d have help, but I needed to focus on the mission for now.

“Alright, no time to celebrate just yet, wipe that off your palm and let’s get you runed up with spells that will actually be useful.”

#dwd #cee pov

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