#i wrote this in like an hour i hope it's not as bad as i feel like it is

[cupcakeslushie]

For your brainwash au, do we get so see exactly how Donnie got captured by Kendra? And would this au be a full comic or just bits and pieces here and there? (Not pressuring just curious) Love the au and I hope you’re having a good day! :)

Don’t know why, but I felt like writing this part out instead of drawing it! (Sorry for bad grammar. I wrote this lying in bed, sleep deprived and did no editing)

——

The sad, pained look on his little brother’s face is enough to set off that dark protective fire in Donatello’s belly. And Michael has been a tiny storm of negative emotions since Leo slapped the small cast on his ankle. Donnie may not be able to pick apart and decipher all of the subtitles his brother is feeling right now, but he knows he’s in pain, and that’s enough.

“How many strips of bacon do you think we can get from Meat Sweat’s corpse?” Donnie ponders as he wraps an arm around his little brother’s shoulders, and carefully pulls him closer. Mikey lets out a quiet huff, but the joke doesn’t land the way Donnie had been hoping.

“Michael?”

“I’m okay,” Mikey assures. Then a hesitant second later adds, “it’s stupid.”

“Oh well if it’s stupid, allow me to grab ‘Nardo. He might be able to help you better.”

That gets the laugh he was looking for.

“I’m not in pain or anything. It’s just, tonight was the midnight signing of Joshua Bear’s new cook book. He’s a YouTuber chef that I’ve been following for years, and I went to his first release…I really wanted the second for my collection.”

Donatello does vaguely remember Angelo telling Raph something about this event last night, during dinner. He’d been so excited, and now he looks crushed at the idea of missing it.

“What if I went?” At the suggestion, Mikey’s face becomes brighter than a super nova, almost too bright for Donnie to stare at directly. It takes a moment for Michael to really calm down enough to speak.

“You’d really go wait in line for three hours? Just to get a book?” Donatello laughs at the question. Any opportunity in which his brothers were interested in the world of literature, no matter the subject (except maybe geology) was a time to be supportive.

Mikey pulls him in for a tight hug, and holds up his phone to snap a picture of them. Donnie snorts and slides out of his little brother’s hammock, careful not to disturb it too much. Mikey is already bouncing enough that he’s in danger of falling out.

“Yes, yes. Sing my praises on all your media socials. Let the world know how I’m your favorite older sibling!” Mikey drops the phone to his chest and holds his arms up, practically vibrating for one more hug. Donnie complies. He’s long given up maintaining his bad boy image when it’s just the two of them.

“You’re the best, Donnie! Really!” The words do a hell of a job replacing that previous fury he’d been harboring, the smile and warmth coming from Mikey, now fully restored. The proper order of the universe righted with a simple solution. This was what he loved most about being a brother. Fixing his siblings problems, in any way he could. And if healing the broken bone outright was (for now) out of his control—at least he could do this.

Donnie glances at his watch and notes he should get going if the turn out is going to be as big as Angelo predicts. He sneaks past the living room where he can hear his other two brethren yelling over a game of Mario Kart. He has zero interest in either of his brothers tagging along. He loves them, but neither are suited to standing in a long line for hours. For the last Jupiter Jim reboot, Donatello was seconds away from a double fratricide before they were even allowed into the theater.

Besides. He’s practically 18 (in four months). He can run up to the surface for a few hours, without having to call upon the archaic buddy system.

———

He’s in line for about an hour, when he sees suspicious movement out the corner of his eye. A young woman, parting the line a little ways ahead from where he stands, walks quickly into the closest alley. That alone might be no cause for alarm—maybe it’s a short cut. But the tall, hooded creep trailing after her, has his metaphorical hackles rising. It’s a clear case of sinister intentions. He quickly glances around to see if anyone else has witnessed this, but he’s the only one who seems to be showing any type of concern. Typical New York.

“What a town” Donnie sighs. He doesn’t bother asking the old man behind him to save his spot, seeing as he’s practically at the end of the line, and quickly races to the alley to play hero.

It’s a deep one, the lights of the street not quite hitting all the eerie nooks and crannies. Plenty of blind spots.

“Hello there? Stalker and or damsel in distress? Is anyone in need of assistance? Anyone hopefully bear maced and in need of a being escorted to the nearest precinct?”

No answer.

The non-existent hairs on Donnie’s arms stand straight up. Just as he’s reaching for his ninpo to materialize a bo-staff, something thick wraps around his neck from behind. The arm is almost as big as Raphael’s, if lacking in the muscle department.

But before his can break the hold, the solid feeling of a needle slides into the meat of his neck and something rushes into his veins. Within seconds he’s released and stumbling from the lack of support.

Someone is talking to him. It takes a second of his gaze bouncing around to pick them out. Mildly embarrassing, considering they’re standing right in front of him now. Out of all the colors popping in and out of his vision, Donnie only just catches the same turquoise hoodie that seemed to belong to the unassuming young woman.

A honey pot trap, he realizes, stumbling and falling pathetically backwards on his own ass.

He sees pink hair and is almost relieved, if humiliated. With all their enemies, the Purple Dragons are D tier. But the chances he can free himself before his brothers even notice his absence is high. Just the thought of the savage teasing he would be forced to endure if his brothers found out—Donatello is not eager to hear any of it.

As the nauseating colors finally bleed away, and start to leave black growing in their wake, Donatello swears to cause a big explosion on his way out.

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise donnie #rise mikey #rise kendra #Kendratello au #ask slushie #rottmnt writing

[visforvengeance]

so they would know that it was me

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Notes: okokok. So this was heavily inspired by The Diner from Billie Eilish's new album, hit me hard and soft. If you've heard this song, doesn't it make you think about our fave hothead? I tried to do the Instagram caption thing but uhhh yeah. I wrote this in 3 hours and I went batshit insane writing it. I wonder if you pinpoint when I went fucking berserk. but anyway. I hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: boy where do i start. ok. p in v, cursing as always, cunnilingus, choking, creampie, suicide (mentioned), canon typical violence, biting/bruising, just reader and rafe being freak nasty.

song

Rafe watched while you danced with your friends. It was almost like you were dancing only for him, beckoning him to come closer. He tuned out Top and Kelce, he didn’t care for their conversation. Not when you were near. You danced so freely and without care, and it was because of him. 

Everyone in the OBX knew you were his and his only. From the moment you two were kids, Rafe had always…protected you. Meaning he beat the ever-loving shit out of any boy who looked your way. And, you were none the wiser. You weren’t aware of his predatory behavior. So, when he’d have you sitting in his lap all the time or just casually made you blow him when you’ve been bad, it never occurred to you that this wasn’t normal best friend behavior. You rather liked when he called you baby or how he let you kiss him nasty when you were bored (which was quite often). But, there were still some guys who thought Rafe wouldn’t be on their ass if he even thought they wanted you. Yeah, you were only his and there’s no getting around that.

He watched as some drunk asshole made their way over to you, rudely pushing away your friends and cornering you. They stood around looking for Rafe as he made sure they knew the drill, which was to look for him immediately in these situations. If he wasn’t already aware, that is. Which was rare, as rare as other guys getting this close to you. Rafe had molded you into his perfect girl over the years, shaped you so that you only needed him. If you wanted something, you’d call on Rafe to get it for you. He’s your chauffeur, your atm, your noncommittal boyfriend, your everything. So, when you realized it wasn’t Rafe grabbing on your waist, you began to panic. You tried pushing the guy away while searching for Rafe but he wouldn’t budge. 

Then, suddenly this 6’2 shadow cast over both of you. Rafe had an unnervingly calm expression on his face. He politely tapped the man on his shoulder, before knocking him on his ass. He settled on top of him landing punch after punch on the man’s face. His face and shirt splattered with his blood. The dude had no chance and if you didn’t get Rafe off of him soon, he’d kill him. 

“Rafe,”

Then, he stopped. Abruptly. Instantly. When he looked over to you, it wasn’t fear that he saw. But, anger. “Baby,” he didn’t get to finish his sentence before you cut him off. 

“Home. Now.”

He followed behind you like a lost puppy, leaving the crowd to deal with the aftermath. You never saw Rafe handle these situations. You never saw him in this light. You knew he was not to be fucked with, though. Of course, you knew your boy had a temper. You weren’t that oblivious. But, you didn’t know that he could get like this. The drive to his house was silent. You sat in his passenger seat (which has your name stitched into it) with your arms crossed, head straight, and fire in your eyes. Rafe had always managed to dodge your anger, but not tonight. 

He was slowly starting to get more and more irritated, though. Every time he looked at your face, he’d only be met with your immaculate side profile. You even moved your leg away from his hand when he tried to rest it there. He knew it wasn’t because of the blood that had dried on his hands, you were never bothered by that but, it was because of his actions. His failure to maintain his composure. 

Before you two were able to reach his neighborhood, blue and red lights flashed behind you. Rafe cursed himself as he looked through the rearview mirror. How the fuck was he going to explain the blood that was on him? He hurriedly tried to clean the blood off of him as he changed his shirt. He managed to make himself look at least halfway decent before the cop arrived at his window, knocking lightly. 

Usually, because of who Rafe’s father was, he only received a slap on the wrist. But, not in this situation. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try and get away this time. You rolled your eyes as you listened to him lie through his teeth. He was very charming, you’d give him that. He charmed this female officer right out of being arrested and being sent to prison for aggravated assault. 

You scoffed at the audacity of her to ask for his number and him actually giving it to her. She couldn’t have been much older than the two of you, maybe 25. Baby-faced and fresh out of the academy. You laughed bitterly as he watched her walk back to her patrol car. “You’re fucking unbelievable, Rafe.” His head snapped in your direction, those were the first words you had said to him in the entire 30 minutes he’d been driving. 

Would it be insane of him to assume that you were jealous? Would it be absolutely fucking psychotic if he said that it turned him on to see you so angry and jealous? He smirked softly as he resumed driving. 

You slammed his truck door shut. You didn’t care if he’d get mad about it. You stomped to his front door, impatiently rushing him to open it. He shook his head as he laughed at your brattiness. He loved when you acted like a spoiled child for him. You knew he never had the intention of pursuing that girl, but something in you couldn’t stand the thought of it. 

He took his time opening the door, relishing in the moment before he had to hear your annoying yapping. When the moment was right, he’d know the perfect way to shut you up. He’d argue with you just for the hell of it, then he’d guilt trip you and tell you something like; ‘you’re right, baby, I’m sorry. Ok?’ And, then you’ll find him between your legs, delirious and begging that you forgive him. 

When you made it to his bedroom, you wasted no time ripping into him. First, about the fight he started, and then about giving that cop his number. But, he only stood there with that stupid fucking smirk. “So, you’re not going to say anything? Just stand there smirking?”

He closed the gap between the two of you. He was so close that you could feel his breath fanning your face, if you weren’t so pissed, you’d be on your knees with him looking at you the way he was. He brought his hand up enough to grip your chin, softly at first. “You can’t be mad at me about two different things, baby, pick your battles carefully.” By the end of his statement, his grip had gotten harsher. 

Who the fuck does he think he is? You wrapped your hand around his forearm, caressing it. But, then he felt the growing sting of your nails digging into his flesh. “Aggravated assault in the first degree, babe? That’s a $250,000 bond. Do you think your daddy can afford that? Or will I have to get my daddy’s money to bail you out?” You looked up at him with doe eyes. The silence between you both appeared again. The only sounds heard in his bedroom were his harsh breaths as he tried to remain calm. But, you were really fucking pushing it. 

You forced his hand away and plopped down on his bed. “I just think that you shouldn’t have done that, Rafey.” You pouted as you watched him get down on his knees before you. You wrapped your arms around his neck while he placed his hands on the back of your knees, massaging up to your thighs while pushing his way between them. 

“First off, I am your daddy, babe. And, second, you know how I get when guys try to push up on my girl. Especially when I know how scared you get when it’s not me,” he said while leaving kisses on your neck and chest. 

You scoffed, “I don’t get scared. Just slightly uncomfortable.” You let your hand grasp the back of his neck, fingers dancing softly along the lines of his buzzcut. “Same thing, darlin'. When you’re not happy, that’s when I have a problem. I can’t have my best girl out here feeling nothing but happiness, you get what I’m saying?” He kissed his way up to your chin before pulling away and looking deeply into your eyes. 

“Yeah, daddy, I know. Just don’t want you to go to jail, is all.” You pecked his lips softly. He nodded before kissing you meaningfully. “I’ll be careful next time, huh? That what you want me to say?” You nodded your head as best as you could with your jaw in his grip. You stared back into his eyes as your cheeks spilled between his fingers, and your lips puckered up slightly. It made his dick hard. 

He kissed you again, sloppy this time. The smacking of your lips and the moans that escaped both of you filled the room. He pushed you back on his bed while trailing kisses down your body. While doing so, he slid your panties down, tossing them somewhere behind him. He didn’t care. He didn’t bother riding you of the rest of your clothes just yet. Just hiking up your skirt and leaning back to admire the view. You sat up on your elbows, breathing heavily. You hiked one of your legs up, giving him a better view. “Come on, baby, don’t be a tease.” You were practically begging him to taste you. And, who was he to deny his baby?

He chuckled, “alright, princess. Calm it down.” He watched as you clenched from the nickname. It was taking everything in him not to eat you until you were begging him to stop. Even then, he didn’t know if he had that kind of control. He kisses your inner thigh, working his way up to your heat. Before delving in, he inhaled your scent. You could’ve sworn you saw the white of his eyes while they rolled to the back of his head, but you were quivering with excitement. Too out of it to try and comprehend that. 

He placed your leg over his shoulder and pulled you to the edge of the bed. He placed one long lick from your clit to your entrance, he couldn’t help himself as he let out a moan at the taste of you. Rafe didn’t think he was the kind of guy to be so affected by a woman, of any kind. But, he’d let you slut him out whenever you pleased. Whatever you wanted, he never said no. Not to his baby. 

He would gladly drop to his knees for you. There’d even be times when he’d be the one asking for your permission to taste you. And, just like him, you never said no. 

He began teasing you by repeatedly placing kisses along your clit, when he noticed your whines he fucking laughed. “Rafe, quit it.” You sounded like an intolerant child but that’s what he liked about you. “Ok, ok, baby. I’m sorry.” He wasn’t sorry at all. 

He wrapped his lips around it while slowly sliding a finger into you. Your hips jerked at the intrusion but soon relaxed. He added another finger, but at this point, you weren’t sure who was moaning more, you or him. You were silently thanking God that his family was out on vacation as neither of you were exactly quiet. If anyone had heard, they could easily guess what was going on. 

Rafe pumped his fingers in and out of you at a relentless pace, repeatedly hitting that spongy spot inside of you, while his tongue worked on your clit. He didn’t care that he could hardly breathe as you pressed his face into you, he’d die happily this way. 

Your moans grew louder while your back arched off of the bed. He replaced his fingers with his tongue, easing it inside you with little resistance. His nose bumped against your clit just right as he wrapped his arms around your thighs, holding you flush against him. You held the sheets tightly in your grip, your moans had turned into screams which then turned into nothingness. The sound had simply ceased as you began to clench around his tongue. 

Rafe humped the frame of his bed as he came in his pants. He was moaning into your pussy like a madman. He’d most certainly be ashamed about this later but he thinks this was one of the most amazing orgasms he’s had with you. But, he’s not done with you yet. He had to have you, all of you. He’d kill himself if he didn’t, swears it on his soul. 

When he untangled himself from you, the bottom half of his face was left glistening in the moonlight. He breathed heavily as he started to remove his and your clothing. Both of you were naked, eyes roaming over each other’s bodies. You had never gone this far. Maybe some dry-humping here and there but actual fucking? You were trying (and failing) to contain your excitement. As was Rafe, as he pumped his half-hard cock to full hardness. 

His face held his signature half-lidded eyes look, it was truly a sight to see. You laid back completely flat with your legs spread as you waited for Rafe. You were startled when you felt his hand on your knee. You felt the height of him laying flat against your core. He slotted himself between your lips, and let his spit drip down as he rubbed himself against you. “I want you to try to relax, okay, baby? I don’t wanna hurt you,” you nodded as you tried to follow his directions. Rafe was bigger than you had expected and he was your biggest yet. You took a deep breath as you signaled to him that you were ready. He lined himself up with your entrance as his tip poked at it. Slow, subtle prodding turned into slowly being filled. 

Per your previous orgasm, your fluids and his saliva made it easier. He let out a dragged-out ‘fuck’ as he eased himself into you. When you were filled to the brim with him, he pressed your bodies together, placing his lips onto yours. You could taste remnants of yourself, making you moan into the kiss. Rafe began thrusting into you, softly at first. At first. 

Then, he began pounding into you relentlessly. His hand was wrapped around your throat, squeezing the sides. Your eyes remained in the back of your head for a while, your back arched as you tried to hold onto his forearm. “Tell me you love me,” he said. But, you didn’t hear him. You couldn’t. You were too fucked out. Until you weren’t. Because he stopped. Because he had to hear you say it. And you were so close too. 

“Baby,” he slapped your cheek a few times, trying to get your attention. You will yourself to look at him, he’s admiring you. Your eyes were barely open and your lips were still shining from the lipgloss you were wearing earlier in the night. “Tell me that you love me.” He started thrusting his hips again, but this time it was achingly slow. “Rafe, please.” If you were in your right mind, you’d tell him without a heartbeat. But, he was just fucking you stupid mere seconds ago. “Come on, doll. Just say it and I’ll keep going, promise.” His soft neck kisses turned into harsh sucking with a little bit of biting. 

“I love you, Rafe. Fuck.” He sped up his pace while whispering ‘I love you’ into your skin over and over again. Your stomach tightened as your orgasm approached rapidly. “I fucking love you so much,” Rafe moaned into your lips. You felt the warmth of his cum seeping into you, which triggered your orgasm. He slumped over you as you clenched around him repeatedly. His body twitched as he groaned at the sensitivity. He pulled himself off of you, heading to his bathroom to get a wet towel to clean you up with. After he was done, he peppered you with kisses. Apologizing if he was too rough, making sure you had a glass of water before bed. You were asleep within a matter of minutes, leaving him alone with his thoughts. 

You woke up to an empty bed, the bright ass sum staring right at you, and the constant pinging of your phone. After stewing in bed for 10 minutes, you picked up your phone to see what all the fuss was about. 

“rafe.cameron tagged you in a photo!”

You hadn’t expected the photo to be of you sleeping soundly with a palette of reds, blues, and purples littered upon your skin. 

“rafe.cameron i left a calling card…”

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #dark rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #outer banks smut #outer banks imagine #obx

[mafufuu]

i compare childrens literature to pd pcs

!! spoiler for like, so many episodes of prime defenders god knows how many, but def s2 finale, if youre not done scroll away at rapid speeds !!

Childhood

    Peter Pan is a tale of growing up. Dakota Cole is someone who might have done that too fast. The story follows the Darling children, primarily Wendy and their adventures into Neverland. Wendy seemingly wants to stay a child forever, though when faced with Peter Pan, the embodiment of childishness, her mind is changed. Dakota can be considered childish, with his intellect, black and white sense of good and evil, and extremely kind heart. Yet, it might be that, as opposed to Wendy, he is clinging to whatever remains of his childhood.

     As a kid, Dakota was quite reckless, skipping school, climbing roofs, and whatnot. He’s like Peter Pan, filled with childish whimsy and a lack of care. He befriends a girl, who joins him in the shenanigans. It’s like the early bond of Wendy and Peter. But soon, the consequences of this immaturity become evident. Like how Wendy comes to see Neverland’s flaws. One day, when climbing a roof, the girl falls. Dakota tries to pull her back up, but soon his grip gives out and he goes down too. 

    Couple this with the death of his parents, and likely other factors, Dakota has gone through the kind of stuff that would kill off a childhood. But this is “his” fault, he wasn’t able to save her. Dakota wakes up after the fall, and he runs from wherever he was. He holds this notion that a hero, like the ones he sees in the media, saves everyone. A lofty childish ideal, but one worth admiring. Dakota has grown from where he started, he no longer sees good and evil as two separate entities, holding the idea that the ‘villains’ deserve to be saved too, and that they can be met with forgiveness as opposed to punishment. 

    Peter & Wendy says in the end childishness must be let go of. I reckon that it’s okay to have maturity, yet still hold the whimsy and joy of a child.

Belonging

     Pinocchio is a story that has been warped over time. In this case, I will base this off of the basic sanitized version most people know. It focuses on a wooden boy, the titular Pinocchio, who desires to become a boy of flesh and bone. Vyncent is someone who (as of the beginning) felt a lack of belonging in the world of Prime, and wanted to be accepted. What lies in both is a desire to change.

    Pinocchio starts out as a wooden boy crafted in a woodcarver’s shop, a fit for what he is made of, surrounded by similar things. Vyncent starts out in the world of Fauna, where magic is something everyone has, where people can just have pointy ears and no one questions it, where adventuring parties slaying dragons are usual, where he is normal. Where they belong and are accepted.

     Though, they both leave those places of comfort, intentionally or not. Pinocchio ventures out to become a ‘real’ boy, and Vyncent falls through a portal. Soon after, he somehow ends up in jail, then gets recruited to join the Prime Defenders. He does not know the customs of Prime, but he goes with how things are, while using some of his knowledge from Fauna, to attempt to fit in. The heroes are beloved by many, they belong.

     Vyncent embarks on his journey with William and Dakota, forging friends and foes, and maybe, a home, along the way. He finds a place where he can belong. Vyncent goes to visit Fauna, and he is beckoned to stay, in the place where he is from. Yet, with how he would be separated from the Prime Defenders, and how The Greats’ power remains in his sword, he chooses to leave. The Blue Fairy fulfills her promise of acceptance to Pinocchio.

    Interpretations say Pinocchio holds the message of ‘disobedience is bad and being good will be rewarded’ which in some scenarios isn’t untrue. But, to me (and Guillermo Del Toro), it is an anecdote saying if you stay true to yourself, you can be loved, you were always what you wanted to be, realizing it or not.

Curiosity

    Alice in Wonderland is about a girl falling into a strange and foreign world. William Wisp is a boy that got thrown into a hectic journey nonconsensually. For Alice, it is Wonderland she journeys into, for William it is the side effects of dying and getting revived.

     It begins with being out in nature, seeing something strange, and deciding to follow it, then falling, be it being out on the river bank, seeing a white rabbit running late diving into its rabbit hole, or going on a late night hike in the woods, and spotting a will-o-wisp, and chasing it off a cliff. Then, Alice is in Wonderland, and William is falling with strange sights surrounding him. He looks around, seeing bright colorful lights, floating islands, be they holding fountains, a field of greenery with a mother and child walking together, a man on a throne of paperwork, you name it, all things to write home about.

   Both William and Alice leave their places of wonder, though they do return. (Admittedly I’m not sure how well the events of the sequel lines up with William’s character development.) William’s adventures outside of the spirit world do not halt, however I am not focusing on those. When the base burns down, Mallard Conway whisks William away to show him his domain, being an endless graveyard housing everyone he cares for, and himself. Wonderland is certainly described to be a weird place, meaning it is also likely not devoid of horrors.

    Both of the two are out of knowledge, attempting to solve the mysteries of these strange places they wound up in. They both can be mean at times, though are generally decent people, and they want a way out.

    William’s journey through the spirit world and as the Wisperer continues. Ranging from forcing Dakota to fight a smoke samurai, then being forced to eat the soul of aforementioned samurai, to dying again, to learning he is decaying and bloodless after punching a wall and seeing strange imagery, a lot of things, and not necessarily good ones. Like how Alice continues traversing Wonderland.

    Eventually, he dies a third time. He is faced with his final challenge, his trial. He stays with his old ways and runs, and runs, though eventually faces the fight head on, with all the growth he's gone through. The battle is simply happening when Clarence retrieves William to give the latter a second chance at being alive, though more in between alive and dead, as would Alice’s sister wake her up from the dream, and she leaves Wonderland.

    There isn’t really a clear moral to this one, though it may have various themes and interpretations. This is but a tale made up to amuse youth. Though Wonderland may be fun, it has its downsides and things can go south, but the only constant is change, so things will be okay.

Home

    The Wizard of Oz explores the narrative of Dorothy, a girl who lives in Kansas who’s life is turned upside down in a cyclone, Ashe Winters is someone who was just living in suburban New Haven, who’s life was turned upside down by the metaphorical cyclone that is the Prime Defenders (and eventually becomes one himself). 

   Dorothy soon becomes part of  a group, making a quartet, one with three others who doubt their possession of  certain characteristics.  A tinman who treats all life with the greatest of care. A scarecrow who doubts his wit and overanalyzes. A lion, one who houses bravery but chooses to run, until told otherwise. Though Dakota, Vyncent, and William might not be the best embodiment of their trait I assigned among the group, they all have it for certain. Then there’s Ashe, who desires the comfort of family, in these scenarios, not necessarily blood relation, more companionship, familiarity, and support.

    After many trials and tribulations, the Prime Defenders make it where they need to be, fighting Overlord. They won, however their victory came with a sacrifice, Ashe gave himself up to the Trickster so they’d win. Despite how little time they spent together, Vycnent, Dakota, and William are determined to get their friend back. They fight, and they fight, and they fight, until they’ve won.

    All Dorothy desired was to go home, and Ashe wanted connection. These two things are quite similar, Dorothy was not seeking a building, but her aunt and uncle, and home is people, the kind you can connect with. That is what the Prime Defenders are to Ashe. He is one of them. Dorothy and Ashe return to their places of comfort, Kansas, and the Prime Defenders. After all, at the end of the day, there’s no place like home.

#i bring a kind of milgrammie analysis brain to the jrwiblr im unsure is good or bad or #know i proofread this the day after i wrote it on five hours of sleep and eight espresso beans #hope its coherent #ive had them for one or two months im not okay #saw this post talking abt how vynce isnt necesarily stupid #he can be competent but isnt given the tools to do so man im not saying hes like a five year old but man i remember when i was younger i fe #--t the same #i use he/him for ashe in this but just know i hc ashe as genderfluid #just roll with it prime defenders #jrwi pd #jrwi show #prime defenders #jrwi prime defenders #jrwi #dakota cole #jrwi dakota #dakota jrwi #vyncent sol #jrwi vyncent #vyncent jrwi #william wisp #jrwi william #william jrwi #ashe winters #jrwi ashe #jrwi ashe winters #ashe jrwi #jrwi pd spoilers #prime defenders spoilers

[teejaystumbles]

it’s still Halloween so have some more gory dreamling :P

For 24 long hours, when John Dee held Dream’s ruby, the world sank into madness, sleeplessness and nightmares.

Listen.

Hob Gadling dreams. He is in a dark stone basement. Moonlight through a skylight far above illuminates a broken glass sphere, large enough to hold a man.

There is a creature inside it, crouching between shards of glass. Hob steps closer, fascinated. The creature looks like a man, yet is not. Its limbs are impossibly long, its skin is white as marble and stretched tightly over visible bones. Its face is a face Hob has beheld only a handful of times but would know how to draw with his eyes closed, if he had any talent for such things. It looks like his stranger but its body is so strangely-shaped that he struggles to believe they could be one and the same. Its eyes are pools of black tar with red embers glowing in their depths. Hair that shimmers like raven’s feathers and black spider’s silk sits on its head like a crown, unruly and wild. Hob has fantasized about the feel of that hair. Despite himself he takes another step, still unsure. Can this really be…?

It watches him as he steps closer. Then it opens its mouth and releases a low and trembling moan that shakes the basement’s foundation and makes the hair on Hob’s arms stand on end. Needle-sharp teeth glint in a beam of moonlight and in a second the creature is upon him.

Hob falls to the floor on his back with a grunt, long white bony claws clutch at his chest and tear at his shirt. He stares up into the bottomless eyes and pleads:

“It is you, isn’t it? Let me help. I can help, I can…”

The creature snarls and rips straight through his shirt and tears bloody gashes into his chest. Hob hisses in pain and grapples with the creature’s – his stranger’s, he’s sure, it has to be – claws and shoulders to hold him off.

“Please, wait, what can I do-”

Needle-sharp teeth bury in his shoulder and he howls. Claws are ripping him open, digging deeper inside his chest and Hob sucks in desperate breath after breath, gasping in pain. The teeth release him and his stranger’s handsome face stares down at him with blood dripping from his lips and chin.

Give me Give me more so cold cold COLD

It shivers against him and Hob fights against the pain and lifts his arms to embrace the skeletal monstrous form of his stranger, draws painful breath to say:

“I’ve got you, I’ll hold you, I’ll warm you, please, I’m here-”

Stay stay STAY get me OUT of here give me more I NEED MORE hungry hungry cold cold HUNGRY

Sharp clawed fingers pull his ribs apart and soft lips and nose bury in his neck and pant against him as he screams. Hob is dimly aware that this must be a dream, it has to be. He has never held consciousness for so long under such physical strain and having his rib-cage opened is a first but he’s pretty sure he would have blacked out a while ago. His stranger is pushing at him as if he’s trying to crawl inside him and Hob can only shake and gasp for breath and pull him closer.

Closer Please closer more deeper deeper you you you HOB please

“Anything...anything, for you…” he whispers into unbelievably soft black hair, chokes on his own blood and coughs, pushes trembling fingers into bony shoulders to hold his stranger as he shakes and buries his face in Hob’s open chest to feast, to wear him like a mantle-

Hob HOB HOB

“Yes…”

“Hob…”

The stranger’s voice is suddenly different, no longer a rush of sound into his brain but a voice his ears register. Hob fights through the pain to open his eyes. His stranger looks at him, his face full of Hob’s blood, but his eyes are wide and glinting with now white stars in their midst and there is sanity and recognition in them.

“Ah… hello old stranger...” Hob wheezes and smiles. With a glance at them both the stranger releases Hob, a frown marring his beautiful features. He waves his right hand and suddenly the pain is gone. Hob looks down at himself and sees no blood, no torn open chest. His stranger stares down at him, now clad in a black shirt and trousers. He still has Hob’s blood on his face and Hob shivers.

He lifts his hand and brushes it over his stranger’s chin.

“You still got…”

His hand comes away bloody and his stranger’s eyes widen, he sucks in a breath and then the blood is gone.

“I am sorry, Hob. I did not wish for you to experience any of this.” he says in a voice full of sadness. “A madman held control over the dreaming for several hours. This was...a very personal nightmare that latched onto you. I apologize.”

Hob tries to think. “Oh...so this was your nightmare?”

His stranger cocks his head and then lowers his eyes. “Yes.”

“Why...why would it latch...onto me then?” Hob asks and waits with baited breath. Part of him is thrilled. His stranger is here, and even if it’s a dream, he knows it is real.

Lips like rose petals part and tremble for a second before giving him an answer.

“Because this is my nightmare. You, here...and me, like that.”

His stranger sighs softly and steps back.

“I was...imprisoned. For a very long time. When I escaped I left this part of me here… I could not control it. And you stumbled upon it. Of all the nightmares that exist, you had to find this one.”

He shakes his head angrily and turns to leave.

“There will be no more bad dreams tonight, Hob Gadling, I promise. Sleep well.”

“Wait!”

Hob desperately reaches for him, grabs at his shoulder and pulls him back. His stranger frowns at him but waits. Hob releases a nervous breath.

“It wasn’t a nightmare. Not to me. I would…” he swallows heavily. “I would give you all you need. Anytime. Anything. I mean it.”

The stranger stares at him, lips parted, looking taken aback, if Hob where to guess. Hob feels himself blushing, feels his heart tripping and beating loudly and gives a helpless smile. He releases the other’s shoulder and looks at his feet.

“Sorry. I, I just wanted to tell you. I...hope to see you again. Soon?”

He lifts his eyes to his stranger’s face again with so much hope it’s choking him. Twin stars glitter in eyes like black tidal pools and a tiny smile plays at the edges of the stranger’s lips. A voice like dark velvet is the last thing Hob registers before he is sinking into soft dreamless depths.

“Very soon, Hob.”

#I needed to know what happened to Hob in 24 hours and so I wrote my own take on it #haven't seen any fic like that around please rec me if you know any #also Dream leaving a monstrous part of himself that existed while in the cage rings very true to me #anyway I hope you enjoy my weird gory love language #own writing #dreamling #tw: gore #it's a dream so #not that bad I hope #dream of the endless #hob gadling

[emmebearpaw]

“What do I do when I’m angry?” You ask without even asking. You are small, these emotions are new, the people around you teach you about each. Being happy is yellow and you show you are happy with a smile. Being sad is blue and you show you are sad by crying. Being mad is red. “How do I be angry?” They don’t really answer it.

You learn later that being angry is being loud and scary. Being angry is when your parents yell at you for doing something you shouldn’t have. Of course your parents yelling is scary. Being angry is being scary.

But being scary isn’t exactly an action to do. You can yell. Yelling is a good way to be angry. People already tell you are loud a lot though, like when you are excited! What’s another way to be angry.

The animal inside of you responds. Being angry is to be violent. The best way to get rid of the pain of holding the boiling pot of rage is throw it on someone else.

You scratch the girl you were mad at in first grade. You really should have gone to the principals when she told on you. You realize in that moment and dozens before you can’t hurt someone when you are angry. You lie to the teacher and say it was an accident, your nails were long and you didn’t mean it. But you didn’t have to hold that pot. You don’t do that again, being a good girl means you can’t be hurting anyone.

You are holding the boiling pot yet again and it hurts and it hurts and you have to do something. The pressure is mounting with deadlines for projects and extracurricular activities and now you need to do all of that work all over again and you kick a fucking hole in the wall at your middle school.

You know you shouldn’t have done that but nothing chills the pot like guilt sliding down your throat. You already knew by then that the boiling anger can’t go onto objects either. Only special objects can be hit. “You can punch your pillow if you are mad.” Your parents say. You can’t punch your fucking pillow when you are at SCHOOL. You can’t punch your pillow on the bus you cant you can’t.

So you learn to hold the boiling metal. You scream about it next time it begins to boil. Everyone looks at you and goes silent. Your friends tell you they were scared you’d hurt them.

you can’t do that. You can’t do that.

You go silent as the anger seeps through you. That’s weird. Why aren’t you talking. You talk. You sound angry, why are you angry. You leave the room. You can’t do that, we are busy right now, you can’t leave without permission.

You are trapped there. You have enough brain power left as the rage seeps into your skin to realize you are the only one who is angry in the situation you are in. Because you are angry at things you did and didn’t do. Because you have to be a good girl. That’s who you are. You set expectations for yourself and for others and you can’t even get yourself to meet all of them, how could you ever get someone else to. The kettle whistles louder and louder as the kids around you in class get off topic as the teacher runs to grab something. This is a discussion you want to scream. We have a topic to talk about you want to beg. You are sitting criss cross applesauce on the fucking floor with a hot iron pressed to your chest and you can not leave. You can not fix it.

So what did you learn to do? The anger has to go somewhere. It doesn’t sit in you well. You know you should be able to handle the searing metal but you can’t. It has to go somewhere. It can’t go on others, they’ll hurt. It can’t go on objects. They’ll break. It can’t go in the air it can’t be pushed into the ground it can’t leave the room all the time.

You pour the boiling hot anger onto yourself. It’s the only place for it to go? Isn’t it. It doesn’t solve the fact the water is still boiling. Now more is burned, but your hands don’t have to hold it. The sound of your fist hitting your own head provides some relief. The rattle in your brain after you slam it against something can distract you from the rage. You can punish yourself for the fact that no one else seems to have this problem that you do.

You know you picked the wrong way to pour out the water. it’s too loud. Too noticeable. You get in trouble for doing it. People get angry at you. Concerned for you. Scared of you. You look one of your best friends in the eyes and you want to punch them for something they said. You don’t remember what it was at this point you just remember you thought you should punch her.

But that was the first thing you learned wasn’t it? You can’t hit someone. You look her dead in the eyes and punch yourself with the force you wanted to hit her with. You get in trouble with your parents for doing it, grabbed by the arm to stop you from giving yourself a concussion in a parking lot as you sobbed over not knowing what item you wanted at the craft store.

they still haven’t answered what you should do instead.

You still don’t have a better answer. You become an adult, far past the point of learning that anger is red and you still don’t know what to do about it.

you learn to be quieter about it though. You try counting how many times you wanted to do it in a day. The people around you ask you to stop the ominous counting at the things you used to get mad about. You stop doing it on the second day. You try not to think about how you didn’t hit yourself at all yesterday, despite the rage. You start doing it again.

You learn that biting isn’t quite as good as hitting but it’s quiet and clean and easily hideable as you twist your hands to hide the teeth marks.

You stop being as angry when you leave high school. It turns out not being locked into rooms with the things that make you angry, helps a lot.

and yet.

One day you realize your sibling got to go to therapy for their anger issues. They went to therapy for it because they didn’t learn. They kept hitting and breaking and yelling. They got cards to give their teachers to take a walk when their pot started boiling. The reason you didn’t is because you learned. The reason you didn’t is because you hit yourself instead of others.

At that realization, the pot starts to simmer once more.

this time you cry.

#my post #XD I can’t go to bed until I stop crying because if I don’t I’ll get terrible eye bags!!! #If I put enough LOLs and LMAOs it’s almost like I’m fine!!! #I don’t know why I always want to write about my emotions it always just seems to prolong how long I feel bad because I feel bad while #writing about feeling bad. Like logically the best thing to do with all the bad emotions is to go “wow I feel X” and then stop feeling it. #And yet here I am writing fucking poetry for strangers on the internet instead of sleeping. #I hope you have a good time of day #Edit: you know I realized I’m spending several hours with the person I wrote about wanting to punch one time tomorrow. And we are mutuals #Oops promise I don’t want to punch you if you see this

[nomazee]

i can’t get over how i’m forever and always proud of my sebastian sdv series,,, like that was genuinely my magnum opus. it was the first little mini series i wrote that i had fun with ,,, when i was writing it i was so full of heartbreak but i was also so happy at the same time and the fact that all of that emotion got channeled into one of my most successful writing pieces makes me OVERJOYED

#i could talk for hours about that period in my life #i was a wreck but i was creating so many things from that wreckage #no way i’m getting emotional over my own fanfic #and all the lovely people who left comments and sent asks about that series #i look back sometimes and just start giggling LIKE EVERYONE IS SO SWEET #and so many people said that i just wrote everything realistically or like in a way that they could relate #and that made me so happy #i am always and forever an amalgamation of hope and heartbreak and anxiety and joy #and i love putting that into my writing #whenever i can #oh gawsh #i’m emotional now #also like #i’ve said it before but i wrote that series after a break up #and i’m really happy that i focused on sweet and good things instead of dwelling on that breakup in a bad way #I AM SO HEALED!!!!!!!!!! I AM SO HOPEFUL!!!! #nora speaks #also blade fic coming out today. Because i have no self control

[vazaha-tya]

it's funny because most people who write self-insert fics don't like that it's called SI and actually object to the name but we just kinda all adopted it to spite the snobs who think it's only about writing a mary sue who is loved by all the characters and has no flaws at all. the name was reclaimed very reluctantly but here we are

#no night without a dawning au #ezra murni is baby #he's not actually my first harry potter oc #i have four i think? #one's snape's cousin from the prince side of the family #another's the daughter of fabian prewett and a trelawney #then there was jasmine evans which i kinda repurposed into harry when i wrote hope blooms in the darkest hours #which is kinda sad because she had her own personality and quirks #like she was really bad at transfiguration and decided to keep the hedgehog-pincushion as a pet after she failed to transfigure it back #then an oc who was the child of dorea & charlus potter & only existedto fulfill my fantasy of adopting harry & giving him a happy childhood #then there's all the naruto stuff i worked on #i'm actually thinking about rewriting shunshin no shiori #because i don't have enough to do apparently lol #tya rambles

[majoringinsarcasm]

OK SO NOT TO BE EVEN MORE DELUSIONAL if Bees don’t happen tomorrow it’s fine literally I’m not even worried bc I know it will this volume BUT LET ME GET UP ON THIS STEPLADDER TO REACH FOR A MINUTE (also for context I am getting the episode numbers from crunch roll I think they might’ve been slightly different originally on YouTube but it’s fine I’m already reaching)

Volume 1 Chapter 6: The Emerald Forest is when Blake and Yang locked eyes and became partners BEFORE they even joined a team. So in a world where team rwby never happened they would still be partners on another team. Also could be argued Blake picked Yang on purpose bc we see her dart by in the foreground. You know. Also side note but Yang asking the Grimm if they’ve seen a girl in a red hood vs Ruby asking Little if they’ve seen a girl with long blonde hair. Sisters, your honor.

Volume 2 Chapter 6: Burning the Candle. DO I EVEN NEED TO SAY MORE? Some could say it’s one of the defining moments of early series Blake and Yang, it’s so good you can just say the title and the ones who get it get it. Highlights are the laser pointer which I found personally fun, early volume humor I love you, hugging your sleep deprived stressed girl best friend and then saying you’ll save her a dance. Also shout out to shirtless Ren??? Forgot about that and Nora in the background pretending not to listen to him and Jaune talk lol. Also early volume Renora my BELOVED

Volume 3 Chapter 6: Fall is when the fake out leg break happens with Mercury which isn’t a Bees moment but that later sparks the conversation all the girls have about believing Yang really saw him attack first and Blake bringing up how this reminds her of Adam but deciding to trust in Yang anyway. Volumes four and five don’t have Bee moments tied to their respective chapter sixes.

However the bees are thinking about each other while they are apart, with Blake seeing Yang in Sun’s place when he’s attacked by Ilia plus Sun literally calling out that Yang would want Blake to be with her even when things are bad. And Yang’s “what if I needed her here for me?” when she and Weiss have their little heart to heart in V5.

Volume 6 Chapter 6: Alone in the Woods: a personal favorite of mine in general. They are at the farm, they are above the Apathy, Qrow gets his first big wake up call in terms of his alcoholism and how it affects his family. Yang grabs Blake by the hand to lead her out of the house even though she doesn’t really Need to and Weiss gets to torch the place because she also has a parental figure who struggles with drinking and it affects her. Love this episode a true banger.

Volume 7 Chapter 6: A Night Off: Blake and Yang are going dancing. Neither are very good at it and it’s very cute. Featuring a hand on the shoulder as Blake does her makeup and Yang sitting like a lesbian on the bed behind her and smiling as she does said makeup. Also Blake’s giggle she laughs at whatever Yang does. I love mutually down bad couples. Also Weiss watching half of her team be gay dorks and deciding to go to the movies with Oscar and Jaune bc she refuses to be a third wheel for another second. Highlight for me personally is the beginning when everyone is training I love shots like that I think it’s cute and fun and. I miss when they could act like this before. The Horrors truly set it. Also the beginnings of Ren semblance evolution and the Rosegarden crumb haha. Also Yang chasing after Blake and her shadows as they are fishing was also cute.

Volume 8 Chapter 6 is Cinder’s backstory but V8 does have the bee reunion face cradle and forehead touch as well as Yang’s conversation with Jaune that he mistakenly thinks is about Ruby, as well as Blake’s conversation with Nora about needing to know who you are outside of your relationship and how They don’t have to be all You are.

WHICH BRINGS US NOW TO VOLUME 9 CHAPTER 6. Not every cute or significant Bee moment is tied to chapter six and they have more than one movement to talk and have moments in each volume. I just had a lil breakthrough and wanted to check when they became partners and what chapter burning the candle was and went down a rabbit hole.

Again IF there’s no confession in like 10 hours do Not let the bad faith haters get you down. We are coming off a wild episode and I personally missed my boy Jaune so much and want to know what happened to him. We will see how all that plays out. But the evidence is there and has been for years and has been pointed out in universe so if it doesn’t happen it’s ok to be disappointed but please trust that it Will happen.

But if it DOES? No bigger bottles will be popped. We win either way; it just depends on when. See y’all on the other side!

#rwby 9 spoilers #bumbleby #blake bellodona #yang xiao long #long post #once again if it doesn’t happen this weekend DO NOT LET THE BAD FAITH HATERS GET TO YOU #nobody knows what queerbait really is and many don’t actually like the show anymore OR #they call actually lgbt fans idiots for ‘falling for RT’s crap’ or whatever #but anyway I wrote all of this and scrambled to check the episodes in like half an hour if that so I hope you like my rapid ramblings #we are not clowns but court jesters and I happily dance my dance until the queen bees have their garden moment #maybe it’s tomorrow! we shall see #🖤💛

[gildedbarbarian]

my brain wouldn’t stop about it so i wrote a super quick post 6x16 buddie thing while the episode was on tonight to keep myself from looking into spoilers and live reactions. my first attempt at 911 fic, not sure how it went, but here we are anyway. 

---

Sometimes when he catches Eddie in the right light, the exact singular second, Buck sees the man who broke down a year and some change ago. Not, mind you, in any capacity of shame or guilt or lack of progress–Eddie’s come further to get better than almost anyone Buck knows. But the thing about moments like that, of hitting that low of a place, is that it never fully leaves you. And sometimes, when the light is right and no one else is looking and the right-wrong-painful thing is said, lived, experienced, it bubbles back up like an awakening volcano. 

This, for better or worse, is one of those moments. The upside is that they’re alone. The downside is that he can’t figure out what exactly brought Eddie’s pain to the surface and if he doesn’t know… he can’t fix it. So instead he sits there, fingers drumming on the steering wheel, and casts another sidelong glance at his best friend. “Are we good?”

Like he’s yanked out of a reverie, a lost dream, Eddie’s eyes snap to Buck. “Yeah, man, we’re good.” But there’s a thousand things wrong with how he says it: his voice is too tight and his hands are too fidgety. He can barely meet Buck’s eye as the words leave his mouth. 

Okay, so not fine. 

“Eddie,” he starts, quarter-turning in his seat, only pausing long enough to undo his seatbelt so he can move more freely. “If something’s up, you can talk to me. The accident didn’t make me, like, fragile. Whatever it is, I can take it.”

The firm line of Eddie’s lips disagrees, and Buck can’t help but wonder when he started paying so much attention to his best friend’s mouth. Eddie looks away, out the window, as he says “I’m all good, Buck, really. Nothing to worry about.” But he says it like now can I ask how you are, like but how could you be, like it’s a question. 

Buck can feel it when his heart rate kicks up in response. “Eddie…” He tries again, reaches out to set his hand on Eddie’s arm, and loses his words somewhere along the way. “Please.”

“I’m not mad at you, Buck.” That much is clear, but there’s something more coming, a hanging “but” in the air that’s just out of reach. “I just don’t…”

“Don’t…” Buck prods, squeezes Eddie’s arm like it’ll help. 

And maybe it does. Or maybe it hurts. It’s kind of hard to tell, but either way, Eddie looks at him again. He doesn’t need the heavy silence to know that he was right before, that he’s closer to that shaken version of Eddie than he’s been in months. This is the right light and the right moment and somewhere along the line, the right-wrong-painful thing was said. Or done. Or seen. 

“Is this about the graveyard?” Buck asks finally, because the longer he looks at Eddie, the more he feels like he’s going to come undone in a way he can’t put back. “Is it about… Shannon?”

Eddie sounds like his own laughter surprises him, like it snuck up in him and he didn’t know it was coming until too late. It’s not the laugh Buck loves, hearty and exasperated if not a little endeared. But a laugh is better than the silence. At least he thinks so... at least he hopes so. “No, Buck, it’s not about Shannon.” 

“Then what?” He hates that he sounds childish here, insecure and demanding; he hates that he feels it even more. “You’ve been acting weird since we left the cemetery, and I just… if you’re mad at me, that’s fine, but I can’t do anything about it if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

I can’t fix it if I don’t know, Eddie. Please tell me. Please let me fix it. 

When Eddie sighs, it’s a resigned thing, the kind he uses when he’s trying to be patient with Christopher. The kind he uses when he’s failing. “You said she sees you.”

Maybe it’s because of the sheer number of concussions and traumas he’s taken to the head, but Buck can only blink in response. 

“You said she sees you better than anyone, and that’s just… I mean it’s bullshit, Buck.”

He tries to make a sound of protest but nothing comes out, and Eddie’s fired up now, or at least in a sort of unstoppable motion, because the hits keep coming. What he saw before was Eddie close, but this is Eddie on an Edge. Eddie Right Before He Blows.

It’s not adding up.

“She’s known you, what, a week? And she sees you better than Hen or Chim? Better than Bobby? Better than Maddie? Come on, man, you’ve got to see how wrong that is. After everything we’ve been through together, you think the pretty Death Doula knows you better than I do? Really?”

End of Life Doula, he wants to correct, but even Buck knows that would just  make things worse. 

“It’s not like I’m mad that you’re dating her or whatever, you can do what you want, but to say that she knows you better than the rest of us is a real slap to the face, Buckley. And you just need to know that. I don’t expect you to be the Same Old Buck as before—you died—it would do, has done, a number on anyone. But even with that, she’ll only know you better if you want her to.” There, he falters. “Or whatever. I just mean that she’ll only know you better than us if you choose to let her in instead of us. Which is your choice. Just forget I said anything.”

How exactly is he supposed to do that? 

“I don’t.” Buck isn’t sure when he pulled away from Eddie, took his hand back to let it shake in his lap instead, but he presses it against Eddie’s shoulder now. “Eddie, listen, I don’t. It’s not like that. She’s not—she’s not permanent. Or at least I don’t know if she is. You, Christopher, the 118, Maddie. That’s all permanent.” Hear what I’m trying to say. Please. “You’re right, okay? She does know this version of me better, the post-death version, but it’s because there’s no strings. No expectations. I’m still trying to figure out who after-death Buck is, and it’s easier with someone who doesn’t have anything to compare it against.”

Eddie doesn’t look at him still, stares straight ahead with a tight expression like he’s trying to work something out. “Okay,” he says finally.

“Okay?” That’s it? 

“Okay.” He turns his head slowly, easing the slightest bit into Buck’s touch. “I can’t make you talk to me. Hell, it doesn’t even have to be me, Buck, but just don’t… don’t say that. If you fall in love with her and she sees you better in six months or a year or…”

Buck can’t help the way his eyes widen. “Dude—”

“Just let me say it.”

“I’m not—”

“But if you do—”

“I won’t.”

He’s never done that before, assured someone he’s not falling in love with a girl he’s seeing. Maybe when he’s not doing damage control, he’ll think about it more. 

But he must have said something right because Eddie freezes for a second, eyes wider than they have any right to be really, lips parting just a fraction. There’s only a second of it before he smooths it over, fast enough that Buck might have missed it if he blinked at the wrong time. “Okay.” Eddie says again, but it’s lighter at the edges this time, gentler, less angry. He leans into Buck’s hand against his shoulder for a second more before he leans toward the door instead, fingers on the handle. “You wanna come in for a beer?”

There’s a familiar tightening in Buck’s gut as he nods, cuts the engine, braces his back against the seat for a second to remind himself he’s in his body. Something is different. He just can’t quite put a finger on what it is. 

And then Eddie grins at him, wide and endeared, and it doesn’t matter what’s changed. He can crash on the couch if he needs to. 

“Yeah. Pretty sure you owe me one anyway.” 

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 fox #eddie x buck #911 fanfic #i wrote this in like an hour i hope it's not as bad as i feel like it is

[constantvariations]

V9C3

What sites are y’all using? I had to go through like 3 before finding one that would work :/ either way, react time yeehaw

Post Ep: this is essentially a mental breakdown of an episode and I hated every minute of it

I think crwby put more attention into the trees than the story

Weiss for the love of cheese and crackers stop with the fucking wAcKy animations I am begging

Why does this little red shite sound so shitty? I wanna shove him in a locker and give him swirlies. Also wow an entitled dramatic flamboyant prince. What a totally unique idea. I am in utter disbelief at such creativity. How can we ever thank our crwby overlords for such a great character.

I unpause the video and immediately need to kill this stupid shitheel. I cannot believe we are getting all the most annoying characters in a single fucking volume. At this point I’d be willing to endure another fucking Jaundice arc if it meant never hearing the prince or Little ever again

I am losing my goddamn mind every 3 seconds. I’m going to start chanting latin and climbing up the walls and spewing pea soup everywhere

I’m going to go full Blaire Witch. The last y’all are ever going to hear of me is when the forest rangers find my shitty recorder at the torn apart campsite and the last thing you’ll ever hear is me going “Where is the fucking plot what are the themes what is this tone someone help me”

Ruby is red. Shouldn’t that like. Factor in at all? Dude’s so upset at the color green but is totally chill with yellow, black, and blue? Is it because green is the opposite of red?

So it’s a shitty chess game with some elements of wizards chess. Did these motherfuckers really pluck inspiration from Harry fucking Potter? Right down to the kids being pieces??? Are y’all for fucking real??

Wait a goddamn minute the pieces being advanced upon can fight back? What sense does that fucking make? Unless the framing is really awful and I can’t see the space the pieces are fighting over? It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense when Ruby’s calling out moves but the shitlord isn’t

And now it’s a full out assault? What is this game and why does it suck?

Normally I don’t notice music due to my auditory issues but the song coming out of nowhere with a jazz bit was so weird I missed like half the battle

Also RUBY YOU ARE HUGE SWEEP THE FUCKING BOARD DUMBASS

Wow .2 seconds of despair followed by an all out victory. Riveting

Ah the cat monstrosity. The first instance of gradients and it’s so atrocious

NOW LITTLE RECOGNIZES THE FUCKING CAT FUCK THIS GODDAMN MOUSE

Wait wtf Neo fell at the same time as Ruby right? Why is she just now shooting starred into wonderland. Why does she immediately waste energy shifting into Ruby and Cinder? Why would she even want to?

And why build up the twitch creature if it’s just going to be ganked off screen? I assume it’s going to be making a return considering the design but also why didn’t they have it do anything before being Neo’d?

At the very least this hints that Jaune won’t be appearing until later, if crwby can remember their own rules for 5 minutes. We might even be Jaune free a few more episodes! Took Neo 3 to show up so hopefully Jaune won’t make it til 6

#rwde #i cannot wait to see people try to defend this episode. literally nothing last ep had any real affects here #just now realizing they dropped pennys sword and nobody commented #ruby was sooooo drawn to it just to dump it like yesterdays trash #p much the only thing i liked was the diamond pupils of the prince. everything else sucked ass #i am just... astounded #i think they're trying to be this bad #either that or wrote the whole season on every drug known to man and even some unknown #what even was this episode. smash cut from them arriving to the castle to them getting chased #and the only thing missing would be the tiny team context #what a goddamn waste of time #i have work a 12 hour shift tonight i should be going to bed #but now im going to stay up forever fuming abt this waste of human energy #these mfs bled their animators dry for THIS #like its awful no matter the quality but this level of shitty writing is a slap to the goddamn face #bc who tf is going to look at this and be like 'yeah everything was shit but look at this shot i did aint it great?' #theres nothing here worth getting a hangnail for much less all but murdering your employees #gr8 job rt i hope you die in flames and drown in lawsuits #you will not be missed

[raccoonlikeartstudent]

my family’s wrong, i do get bitches

i just don’t know who they are 💀

#THIS IS THE SECOND TIME IVE BEEN POSTED ON MY SCHOOLS CRUSHES PAGE #AND I NEVER FIGURED OUT WHO SENT THE FIRST ONE #like homie. please just talk to me I CAN NOT PICK UP SIGNALS FOR THE LIFE OF ME #girl i’ve been yearning for years and ur fucking telling me you LIKE MY DUMBASS???????? #ok so instead of reacting to this like a normal person #i have spent the last two hours hyperanalyzing people i know; their text patterns; who they follow; etc etc #is there someone who im hoping sent it??? maybe. #but the chances that she wrote it are slim cuz she doesn’t really use emojis #and she doesn’t follow that account :( #based on my ~research~ i think i know who it might be???? but now i feel bad cuz she’s really sweet but i don’t really like her like tha #t :// #FUCK WHY IS THIS SO HARD AAAARRTRRTHVJVHCHCHGGGGGGHHHHH #argh #help

[valandherweekofwonders]

yeah so apart from a small assignment a professor gave me an extension for, i am all done this semester and thank goodness for it.

#wrote my last exam this morning and you know what? even if i fail i really did do my best given my circumstances #which were INSANE these last few months and constantly changing too #idk im just im so proud of myself for surviving through this far its been really difficult and its still all difficult but yeah #celebrate the victories you do get #attempting positivity and bright thinking is so hard after being so sad and bitter for such a long time but also refreshing #already today i got myself yummy treats and watched a movie under my blankets for fun and it was so nice to just watch the movie and #not have to check my phone to sew if i was needed or to get back to working on a deadline or some task #and i actually have time to play video games now and i always say ill play for 12 hours but i usually get a headache after like 3 hours bu #but the point is having fun i just want to have fun i have not had any fun in months im not exaggerating #everything really has just been so grim and bleak for me but hopefully dedicating some time to forcing myself into an activity will help #i really need to shift gears and focus on recovery now because i let things get so bad #yeah sometimes i experience hope and various types of positivity #ezra.txt

[the-acid-pear]

ptsd is like ssooo silly like ohh this was so triggering ill forget about what literally just happen 2 hours ago entirely!!

#luly talks #this wording is so bad its not evne dark funny but whateverssss hear me vent boy #yesterday yall know i had a day as per my posts and like it was silly bc like. #bc the whole confrontation w my dad the one yesterday and many in the past too lets be honest i literally had a dream about it #where i was yelling at my mother about the things i told him #(i hope someone reads my dream posts bc i had a tv tropes link attached which i thought was very funny tbh 🙄) #but like that day i wrote to my therapist a bit in the middle of the fight but she answered me like uh. 2-3 hours later #and when she did i literally just had to sit with the phone on my hand staring blankly for a few minutes tryign to remember ANYTHING #because i couldnt #literally couldnt explain what had just happened i couldnt remember what i had said or what HE had said or anything #i had to go back to read the messages AND READ MY OWN VENT POSTS HERE to remember AND EVEN THEN I STRUGGLED #its mental this ptsd shit is mental

[magicalmanhattanproject]

man im just like. thinking about egg signs and how they've evolved over the course of the qsmp and how the qsmp has evolved over the course of the qsmp and just feeling so much love and affection for every part of the project. i dont have any grand overarching point with this just. like. here's a history of egg comms bc of the kind of person that i am

so wayyyy back ten months ago now at the start of the short and sweet egg event that was planned to last maybe a month at most, the eggs had their own custom, decorated signs!

[ID: Leo with a pink sign with an egg on the bottom corner that reads "hello" in all caps. Her nametag reads Leonardo. End ID]

They were extremely simple, single word signs. There was hello, hola, story, feed, sleep, and maybe one or two more and each was its own separate sign. The eggs could only communicate the most basic needs in words and everything else was through minecraft body language or just hoping their parents guessed right.

But obviously, there was a lot more that parents wanted to hear from their children. I'm not sure who was actually first, but the earliest departure from this system I know about is BadBoyHalo giving Dapper a simple oak sign so he could name his pet slime. (Screenshot from @/lxrd-ren)

[ID: Dapper wearing a diver's helmet standing next to a tiny slime in a boat with an oak sign reading "Bouncy (slmecicle but better)" End ID]

Parents quickly realized how much more convenient this was and pretty soon every single egg had stacks of signs to communicate with.

The next innovation came from Vegetta, who was the resident mod knower at the time. He knew about colored canvas signs and gave Leo signs in her favorite color purple because he loved her and gave her everything she wanted.

[ID: Leo's bed in her room under some Fooligetta fanart with a purple sign reading "<3" End ID]

Colored signs obviously had a lot of advantages. Being able to tell at a glance which egg placed which sign was a huge step forward in eggs being able to have long, complicated conversations as well as leaving obvious marks of their personality everywhere they went. It took a little while for them to be standard for every egg though. Bobby never stopped using oak signs even after Richas and Pomme both showed up with colored signs.

[ID: Two signs reading from right to left a red Pomme sign reading "we already started working on a guillotine factory" and a dark grey Dapper sign reading "thats the most french u have said so far pomme" End ID]

And this was the system for a while! And it worked pretty well for most people! The biggest struggle most people had was egg signs not being translated, but streamers adjusted to that by reading signs out loud so the translators would pick up on them. This also lead to adorable and fascinating dynamics like Richas swearing in signs he wrote for Bad and then warning Bad not to read them out. There was also the genuinely phenomenal development of Leolingo where Leo writes only in Spanish to Foolish because it's easier for her to write and he takes his time to puzzle his way through it and learn in a way that's super cool to watch someone else do onscreen.

Then Tubbo joined the server. And Tubbo himself had no problems at all with the system, but he is dyslexic and he casually mentioned offhand that it was getting kind of annoying to read signs after a ten hour long stream and the admin team Fucking Cooked.

Within 24 hours, they had TTS working on the signs. Within 48 hours, it was working on books too. I can't remember how long it took to get translation working, but it was definitely under a week.

And this opened up a whole new world of possibilities for the entire QSMP. The admin team has been on top of capitalizing on it for story purposes, but also just allowing the egg admins to speak in their native languages to everyone whenever they want has been so enriching for everyone involved. Leolingo is awesome but Foolish has been learning Spanish insanely fast and his process is a lot slower and more frustrating than most people can do in front of an audience of thousands of people without feeling discouraged. That's also one language. We've had everything from Foolish being able to check his work a bit more faster to Phil insisting on his eggs taking a day to speak to him in their native languages to Ramón writing a book for Fit in Cantonese, a language we haven't even seen on the server in any other context!

And all of it is fully understood and fully communicated! Sometimes the translators mess up but no one expects them to be perfect and people ask for clarification if the translator says something that doesn't sound right. It's not only a massive step forward in communication technology, but it's a great demonstration of how to use it and when you can and can't rely on it.

And finally, the most recent innovation! One of BBH's viewers sent him a dono saying they had trouble reading certain signs because they were too low-contrast. Bad, Richas, and Pomme just. Took it upon themselves to fix the problem right there and then. Based on One (1) bringing up their own personal struggle, those three came up with new signs that innovate tremendously on the originals.

[ID: Two separate images of the before and after. The first is the egg signs in their original colors with the corresponding egg's name written on them to demonstrate the font color and the second is in the new, higher contrast colors with the same text. The new signs also have custom decorations for each egg. The second picture also has two signs from Pomme in all caps that read "Send all the love to Richas he spent a whole night making this he's the best <3" End ID]

There are three main innovations visible in the above pictures

1: Obviously, the colors are higher contrast. The signs with white text have darker colors and the signs with black text have lighter colors.

2: The colors themselves are lower saturation. Richas said this made it easier for him personally to read them so he corrected that way, but that's open to change if it causes difficulties for more people than it helps

3: The decorations are for accessibility reasons! People with various different forms of colorblindness will find different sets of colors easier or harder to distinguish, but any of them can look at the decorations and use them to identify whose sign is whose instead.

But! Those innovations are not why I made this post! It's these ones!

[ID: The backs of the new signs when placed on the ground. Most visible are Chayanne's with vines and a hardcore heart, Sunny's with shining sunglasses, and Pomme's with an apple and the Eiffel Tower. End ID]

Richas added distinguishing marks to the backs of the signs too! This is something that Bad brought up specifically as something he wanted because it was hard for him to tell who was talking when he was using TTS from behind signs and couldn't see the colors at all.

We went from custom egg signs (a hotbar or so of words and nothing else to communicate with) through a long journey of expanding communication and expanding who we're bringing along on the communication and how easily they can join in and we've circled all the way back around to custom egg signs (they can say anything they want in any language they want and anyone will know it's them saying it from any angle)

and i guess i have enough feelings abotu that to write All This about it

#sorrelposting #qsmp

[arthur-r]

(arthur proofreading help as usual you can ignore if you want but help appreciated!!)

this is what i have for my resume currently is it good enough to submit to a scholarship?

#i forgot until just now that i had to put together a resume that they would like #i had an old resume that i was going to use to volunteer at the library (and then my mental health was shambles and couldn’t handle it) #so i just kind of revised it to be more general.. is it like. good and normal?? #scholarship isn’t due until the fifteenth so i have a little bit of time #also is it better to have objective at the top or no? like ‘‘objective: ____ scholarship through ____ program’’ #anyway this is just classic arthur asking for college help without expectation to the world but just vague hope #it’s fine if you don’t know what to do. but any and all advice is appreciated!! #i wrote four essays and got two letters of recommendation for this scholarship too - it’s not all counting on my resume #but want it to be normal enough that they think it’s normal and regular. so just. if it’s bad let me know shdhdf #oh and blotted out stuff is just organization names and addresses. no question that they should be included and too specific for internet #so anyway yeah. idk. i’ve been in my bed doing college stuff since waking up two hours ago. i think i should have some breakfast maybe #but yeah. help appreciated but not required. feeling very weird and strange lately i hope everyone is well #and yeah i should really go. thanks if you help and otherwise thanks for reading this far anyway!! #i’m vaguely around until i work at 4. so lmk if you need anything #me. my post. mine. #delete later #college talk #ask to tag

[januaryembrs]

I CAN SEE YOU | Spencer Reid x FBI!Reader

Request: Congrats on 2k!!! Could you write something based off of ‘I can see you’ by Taylor Swift with Spencer please?

Description: Spencer may or may not have a little thing for the desk jockey on the floor below, and she may or may not have a thing for their silent elevator rides together.

Length: 1.2k

Warnings: fluff?? Season one Spencer in mind when I wrote this (my sweetest boy)

He passed through the lobby at the exact same time every day. Usually with his head dug in an obnoxiously thick book, or fiddling with the strap on his satchel bag, or flicking his long curls out of his sweet, hazelnut eyes. Sometimes with thick round glasses perched on his slender nose, sometimes nothing but a thoughtful, musing frown. 

Not that she was obsessed with him. 

But it wasn’t hard to acknowledge that whoever the guy on the sixth floor was that seemed to stick to an incredibly tight schedule had the face of a god. 

Though she supposed he could say the same about her schedule seeing as they seemed to enter the elevator at nearly the exact same time every single day, never saying a word, a brief nod of hello was about the extent of their interaction. One time he had pressed the button for her floor, number five, for her, and she hadn’t stopped smiling the rest of the day. 

Of course there were times he and his team would be away on a case, in which she wouldn’t see him for days on end, while she went to her lonely desk in forensics no matter what case had come up.

In the grand scheme of things, she was a desk jockey, inputting numbers and data and figures, organising files and sheets and loading ink into the printer. She was a nobody and he was part of the BAU. 

No one would even notice if she didn’t show up for the day. At least that was what she hoped as she sped walked out of the cab, her hair soaking down her back, her lungs puffing in a crackling wheeze, frantically tucking her tight shirt into her dogtooth pants, limping on her ankle that she’d rolled racing out her apartment building into the raging storm that had overcome Virginia in a matter of hours. 

She felt socks wet through as she squelched her way into the elevator, barely noticing the usual passenger that was tracing a bony finger down the page of Pride and Prejudice, quickly flicking over the page in a matter of five seconds. 

He looked up when she hopped in beside him, squeezing in as a handful of other people followed her. Trying desperately to even her hair out in the large mirror behind them, it was only then she realised her mascara had smudged down her cheeks entirely, making her look like she’d slept in a pile of charcoal. 

“Fuck,” She said loudly, her hand slapping over her mouth when she realise the deadly silent elevator full of federal agents turned to look at her, and she felt her cheeks heat as if her makeup condundrum hadn’t been embarrassing enough, “S-sorry,” She muttered, turning her head to the ground as she frantically wiped beneath her lids with her cardigan sleeve. 

Turning to see if he had noticed, she caught him staring right at her, and she could have sworn the heat on her face blazed even harder when she saw he was smiling into his book in amusement. 

Fuck. She repeated in her head this time, taking a small sigh of relief when the doors opened on the first floor and half the passengers trickled out onto the finance floor. 

She was still fixing her hair by the time they got to the second floor, communications, and even more people got out. By the end of the third floor, it was just the two of them left. 

“Bad morning?” He broke the silence, and it was the first time she’d ever actually heard his voice. He was even dreamier than she’d thought, in a boyish kind of way.

“Car battery died, and the bus was full,” She murmured, fiddling with the hem of her sleeves that were entirely sodden, “And then apparently someone up there hates to see pretty girls get to work looking dry and respectable,” 

He chuckled properly, and she swore it soothed the ache of the cold rain just the smallest bit. 

“Don’t we all,” He mused, though his eyes went back to his book, flicking over the words faster than she figured would be possible. 

She figured he didn’t want to be bothered by the drowned rat looking woman that had all but thrown herself into the lift beside him, interrupting his reading with her curses and pitiful glances. 

It was only when they reached the fourth floor that he quickly rooted around his bag for something, likely a bookmark since he didn’t seem the type to dog-ear a perfectly neat page. It wasn’t until a soft, moss green sweater was thrust in her face she snapped out of her self loathing daze.

Looking at him wide eyed, he nudged it towards her hands, and it was like Spencer only just realised that offering a stranger your clothes was perhaps not normal, but he didn’t feel like they were strangers.

She was the first person he’d ever met in the building besides Gideon. He remembered the two of them stepping into the elevator, the bashful woman already flicking through files, her lanyard hanging low over her chest as she chirped good morning to Gideon and he did the same, wishing her a good day when she stepped out onto floor five. 

He couldn’t help if he was so perceptive he’d clocked her name and position written on her ID, couldn’t help it if he was a huge fan of routine and repetition, that he purposely walked into the lobby at the same time every day knowing she was going to be right behind him just for an excuse to see her. 

No, they certainly weren’t strangers, Spencer tried to reason, yet he wasn’t even sure she knew his name.

“T-take it,” He stuttered, watching the doors close and the lift jolt as it ascended to her floor, “You can just bring it back tomorrow,” 

“That’s- I couldn’t,” She reasoned, her eyes fretful, “It’s yours,”

“I’m not using it, you must be freezing,” Spencer reiterated it with another nudge towards her, and he saw the longing glance she gave at the promise of warmth. 

Number five dinged above them, and the doors slid open. 

“Just take it, please,” He said, and it seemed like that was the magic word as she cautiously took it out of his hand, and melted when she realised it was softer than she’d thought, like it was made to feel like a giant hug. 

“Thankyou…” She said, heading for the doors with slow steps; she didn’t want to leave whatever moment he’d caught her in. 

“Spencer,” He replied, smiling at her with a shy cadence. 

“Thankyou, Spencer,” She said, and gave him her own name back. But he already knew it, and he realised he would sound like a complete creepy stalker if he’d said so. So he just nodded, a small wave off as she headed for her office and the doors closed behind her. 

He loved how she said his name, he thought blissfully, but he loved even more showing up to work day after to see her waiting by the elevator, his sweater washed and ironed, pressed neatly in her hands and still warm from where she’d tumble dried it. 

She handed it back to him with a sheepish smile, and he took it gracefully, catching a whiff of her fabric softener and felt fuzzy inside right there and then. 

“Good morning, Spencer,” She said sweetly, and he swore he wanted to kiss her the minute it left her lips, glossed with something rouge and shiny. 

But he didn’t, he just said it back, loving how her name rolled over his tongue. 

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #matthew grey gubler x reader