#like if there's only 5 results that's hardly useful

[tohwitchesduels]

GO WITCHES DUELS!

Lore: It's been a minute since the Collector visited Boiling Isles (a few months after defeating Belos), however now they're back and willing to play a new game with the Demon Realm. After some talk with King, they both decided to host a tournament known as WITCHES BATTLES/BATTLE WITCHES (the name is still to be chosen). The 16 most powerful teen witches in Boiling Isles will participate (willingly) in a tournament to decide who is the most powerful teen witch in the Boiling Isles!

Information about the tournament: The tournament will feature 16 characters of my choosing competing with one another based on their strength and skill. This by no means is a popularity contest, so I don't care if you know or like the characters featured in battles, as ultimately the battle shall decide who would win a witches duel. The tournament rather than a simple bracket will also feature side battles that would decide the position in the rankings, so get ready as there will be a lot of duels.

The first round is composed of 8 1v1 witches duels between characters that were paired randomly (except for one case but I will explain it later once I introduce the bracket). After this, the winning eight will catch a break so all the losers can face each other in a grand battle royale against one another to decide their positions in the tournament (occasionally if some people tie they will also get their own battle). Once the battles of losers are over we shall advance to the second round which shall decide who gets to semi-finals. The elite 4 themselves will catch a break as I will feature a minor bracket featuring the losers of the second round. The winner of this bracket might have a chance to battle the elite 4 once the semi-finals are sealed, in which there will be 5 battles: 2 official semi-final battles; 2 winner vs losers battles; the battle between the losers of the semi-finals. Then a champion of the second round bracket can yet challenge the elite 4, which can change their placement in the ranking and finally, there will be the last battle between the champions of the semi-finals.

The Format will naturally be polls, however, under each poll, there will be an explanation of what participants can and can't do during the duel: what spells they know and can use depending on the battle format; whether or not they can utilise specific tools like palismen for example; what is their mindset going into the battle. Now keep in mind those are not Death Matches, so no need for calculations on how much raw power the characters have and only a brief summary of what they can and can't do, and the battles are decided in imaginary scenarios by either stadium out or losing consciousness (under the Collector's supervision no one shall die).

There will be no "See results" options as I don't want them to mess up the voting so you will have to make some tough choices, but that's why I feature explanations so you can have a better idea of how strong featured characters are, even if you don't know them or their capabilities. I also would appreciate it if you could provide your own propaganda and agendas regarding what characters are capable of.

If there is a situation in which participants tie, they will either be featured in a battle royale in which the person with the least votes shall be out, or they get their match-ups switched if there are more ties (though only even numbers of battles). There are no repetition if matches unless there were issues with voting or the post. However all battles are final and characters won't meet twice unless it's a battle royale.

Who will not participate in the tournament:

All adult characters are off-limits for this tournament as they shall have their own league. This is strictly a teen championship. I decided to do such separation as adult characters just outclass the teen characters, meaning hardly it would be a fair match for young rising stars.

Only characters with importance and established capabilities shall participate so no background characters that have only 5 seconds of screen time

Vee shall not participate in the tournament. Vee is in this awkward position where she either gets so stomped she shouldn't have considered participating in the first place or is just too OP to give anyone else a chance. As a Basilisk Vee only possesses two abilities: magic absorption and shape-shifting. Because of the nature of magic absorption which can render the opponent powerless if used correctly, Vee simply has an unfair advantage towards most of the competitors. However, Vee herself possesses next to no experience when it comes to battling. Vee doesn't utilise her shape-shifting powers creatively and only limits herself to taking forms of other people which is effectively useless as she does not gain their powers (and even if she did it's either unfair since she will transform into someone who naturally counters her opponent; it would be near impossible to see which form could she actually take at this point, and technically speaking it would be another character battling and not Vee herself) but such deception is effectively useless in 1v1 duels. Vee's absorption powers are also pretty slow and can be easily interrupted as Helos demonstrated (and are not as final as the Greater's Basilisk) and as I said, Vee has no experience in battles so she can't really fight with her personality, nor doesn't know any spells to use to help her.

Masha shall not participate as they have yet to discover magic. So Veesha is only cheering on others

The Collector shall not participate since he's OP, so he rather organizes the entire tournament and arranges the game specifically so no one could get hurt while the kids go all out.

King shall not participate as much as Vee, he's either too strong or too weak to participate. King is not yet fully realized Titan so he does not possess the prowess that Titans possess, only being capable of basic light spells (weaker than average ones), squeak of rage, and barrier (which while strong, can also be easily countered). King instead becomes the announcer and the host of the tournament, along with the Collector.

Hooty shall not participate as he is both too strong and too memorable to give it a fair fight (as Hooty isn't OP, but he might as well end up as such due to the voting). He also becomes the host and announcer of the tournament, but rather the adult league.

Adult league: The characters of the past like previous Grimwalkers, Caleb and Evelyn, etc. shall not participate since we literally don't know how strong and capable they actually are.

Adult league: Camila shall not participate as she barely has any battling experience. She's the best mom and she is willing to throw hands, but she simply lacks experience with magic and her battling style can be easily countered. There's also memeable potential of her swiping everyone with La Chancla, which is hilarious, but not realistic. It would be satisfying to see her try to hit Odalia with a sandal, but Odalia can unleash the phantom that would steal such a sandal and then straight-up knockout Camila if we're being serious and no fun regarding this (but in our hearts Camila is the true winner we all know that)

Adult league: Dell Clawthorne shall not participate as he never used any magic within the show and now he's disabled.

Teen League: As the name suggests, only teenagers will participate, toddlers will not

Adult league: Only a few established Covenheads will participate since the others don't have fully-realised potential

Adult league: Titan Trappers shall not appear as they barely have any champion showcasing the true extent of their magical skill.

Adult league: Jacob Hopkins shall not appear as he lost to Camila who herself can't participate for not having enough skill (I did consider Camila to participate but I ultimately decided that she won't)

Invitations - to those who showed interest in the tournament or TOH in general, but no pressure or need for you to participate in the voting. Just wanted to invite you and ensure there will be some audience to the tournament. Oh, and I also don't mind if you use more than one account to vote as long as those are established blogs and not some spam blogs (like try to not rigg the game too much):

@lilcactusboi @wren-writes-things @the-god-of-chaos-himself @violet-prism-creatively @watery-melon-baller

@thescarletdaffodil @akmonasyrk @lapluieellepleut @damianwaynelives @crushpunchh

@impact801 @evermorecatra @rosetyler42 @memory-overload @cwolfnerakagnome

@branmuffins22 @zyrafowe-sny @metalinjector95 @michaela-artist @goingtohellwithyou

@iheartleopards @thatwierdquietkidthatdraws @sophiesophsofia @tbonner2 @amity297

@itslilacmoon @lucascii @fabseg-reader

Anyone can vote in this tournament of course, but I'm not sure if everyone will see it so I hope at least you can spread the popularity of the tournament or decide on your own who wins and who loses

#the owl house #witches duels #witches battles #battle witches #my polls #polls #toh tournament #first post and historic moment

[you-fuckin-judas]

The beautiful discussion of love through physical touch

[young royals s3 spoilers]

We are back where we started, but this season was full of BEAUTIFUL moments of this conversation through physical touch. Wille & Simon have learned and grown so much together, and it so VERY clear in how we see it.

LETS DISCUSS [and cry again together]

1. I'm just glad you're okay.

Let's start somewhere familiar, but dealt with in a new way. Simon has once a gain experienced violence as a result of online hate, and again Wille wants to be there to protect and comfort him. BEFORE when Simon was in times of stress he would push Wille away, unsure and stifled by the emotions of the moment.

BUT this time. THIS time he welcomes it, the warmth Wille has offered out and breathes it in. This moment is beautiful, in the way that they are communicating verbally and physically. They both sit there together, in the embrace. Together.

2. We have a new member of the choir

THIS moment right here, I won't lie had me running laps in my house. We just left the choir practice where literally everything was golden, the lighting, Simon's shirt, his face when it was announced Wille was joining.

EVERYTHING was golden.

We then have moved to this VERY intimate space, no music in the scene. no other members of the school in the locker area either. JUST the two of them, and their love for each other literally EXPLODING.

I have said it before and I will say it again : Omar is VERY good at depicting Simons love through his hands. Exploring Wille. His hair. His face. His chest. His neck. Literally anywhere he can reach. It's literally like he's soaking him up like a sponge.

Not in a intense, overwhelming way. But more of a : I think you're beautiful and I love every part of you. and I want to show you that.

3. Hey

If we have ever seen these two, it's always fueled with passion and intense love. We hardly are able to see them in situations where they are sensitive and soft with each other.

let's be for real, they hardly ever were given a second of PEACE.

THIS moment is so beautiful, so GENTLE. They see each other at school for the first time, and in front of everyone they share a kiss. THE WARMTH of it makes my HEART WARM. For the first time in front of their peers, in the open, in the light they can share their love.

Neither one shys away from it, and again we see Simon wandering with his hands on Wille, so comfortable in his love.

Also, I want to point out that they both are in bolder colors much different than what we are used to seeing them in.

Usually we see Wille in his signature structured school jacket, as well as in darker hues. Here we see him in this soft, plush pink sweater.

Simon we are used to seeing in purples, looser colder colors. Whereas here he's back in that beautiful golden hue, just shining.

4. Working out

Once again, we are in front of our peers. Bold in our choices physically. We see them working out, Simon joking with Wille.

We of course discuss the trip, but we cut to this quick but beautiful moment of their love to just be with each other.

Their smiles, their closeness, their confidence in their love in that beautiful lighting.

BYE THIS ONE WAS SO WHOLESOME I HAD TO.

5. What was your dream?

First episode of the season, we have already been met with an uncomfortable situation full of tension and anxiety.

They are both able to take a break and Wille takes Simon on a small tour in his home, of course like magnets they once again can't stay away from each other.

We have this intimate moment, where I won't lie I was worried SOMEONE was going to walk in because oh my GOD the timing??, and this discussion physically.

Of course the switching of who is in control, both laughing in joy by just being with each other again. We switch into this extremely passionate tone, but I want to point out something.

We obviously couldn't care less that one; we have our shoes on in this bed. Two; that both of them aren't on it properly. I'm only pointing it out because Simon is literally 2 inches from falling off it, but he couldn't care less because Wille has him in his arms and he trusts him. He's not trying to scoot back on it because he's gonna fall, he doesn't care because he knows Wille won't let him fall.

Once again, Simon showing his love with his hands in Wille's hair, his face. And Wille showing his love by holding Simon and not letting him fall.

ALSO the lighting? STUNNING.

6. What the hell do you think?

LETS TALK ABOUT HOW THIS SCENE HAD ME CRYING LIKE I HAVE NEVER CRIED BEFORE. I was furiously checking the time left on the episode I was so SCARED.

ALRIGHT I saved my favorite for last on this post. Let's go.

THE EXPLOSION of relief from them, from US was absolutely insane. The collision of this hug? I could HEAR it. They were hugging so tightly their ribcages might have locked together.

We also have this BEAUTIFUL lighting, the LUSH green behind them, the fresh air.

I want to applaud the acting from them here because the relief you could see, I don't know about you but I could feel it in my throat. Their hands grabbing at each other, holding as tight as they could, scared to let go? GOD.

Simon's FACE, the tears, the way his hands won't leave Wille and his face. He cannot believe that this is real, that this is really happening. He is just so overwhelmed with emotions and love it absolutely is breathtaking to see it.

I'm sorry but this was the most beautiful scene I have ever seen. Their overwhelming love for each other, their joy at finally being FREE. You can see it; their hands not leaving each other, their SMILES, their eyes locked.

Will I do an in depth discussion on this finale sequence here? Yeah probably because it's EVERYTHING to me.

Young Royals is so personal to me, and this show has meant so much to me. I'm crushed its over, but I think the ending we got was absolutely perfect.

I won't stop the analysis posts because there's just so much I want to talk about, young royals forever 💜

#young royals #young royals analysis #simon young royals #wilhelm young royals #young royals netflix #analysis #edvin ryding #omar rudberg #wilmon endgame #wilmon #young royals season 3 #young royals season 3 spoilers #young royals spoilers #young royals finale #yr spoilers #lisa ambjörn #lgbtq #physical touch #physical touch analysis #young royals physical touch

[megamindsecretlair]

Mr. Black, Part 3

Pairing: Tre x Assistant!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. TOXIC FILTH. PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering (fem receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, dumbass reader, power imbalance, Tre is a boss, all consensual.

Summary: Tre has left you alone with your thoughts for too long. You're starting to think it's time to stop...whatever this is between you. But Tre just won't let you.

Word Count: 4,174k

A/N: Why is this man so damn hot. Good lordt. I ain't been able to think of anything else! How did this taglist get so big? I love yall, frfr. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 - Completed

Taglist: @planetblaque @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @honeyoriginalz @blackerthings @sevikasblackgf @henneseyhoe @miyahmaraj @pinkpantheris @my1onlysenpai @darqchilddaydreamz @badassdoll @playgurlxoxo @eggnox @abeautifulmindexposed @theyscreamsannii @melaninpov @mcdesij @kholdkill @blowmymbackout @theunsweetenedtruth @monaeesstuff @cocoeffects @soft-persephone @duckiesfairy @slippinninque

Tre was busy. It was two days before Christmas and he was under a deadline to whip the company into shape before the end of the year. He had left you alone for the most part. Left you alone to wonder what the hell you were doing with him.

It wasn’t like this could go anywhere. He was your boss and there was no way that this could continue. You did eventually want to move up in the company, have your own desk with a view, and call the shots. To have your own pretty assistant that you could look at all day. 

You simply could not continue. Yet, the thought of stopping made you violently ill. Who knew that getting this job would result in the best sex you ever had? Too bad it had to be with an asshole like Tre. 

You worked on the invoices, growing anxious as the days went on. Not only did you look at the latest one, you went back to every invoice this year for that contract. This was not in your job duties. You worked around them, rising up to Tre’s challenging demands the closer it got to Christmas.

He was trying to zap the Christmas spirit out of you day by day. He turned into a gremlin before your eyes, demanding shit left and right. What did you expect? That he’d go easy on you just because you sucked his dick? 

He could have anyone he wanted in the office. And you were not the begging sort. It took you longer to do things, longer to understand things, and that was okay. People were hardly direct these days and expected you to read their minds. You didn’t have that superpower. The only thing you could do was your best and that would have to be enough. 

After just a few months of working for him, you knew the rhythm of Tre’s footfalls by now. He was approaching and you schooled your features. If he wanted to be an asshole, you didn’t have to give him any satisfaction that it bothered you.

“Come into the office,” he said tiredly.

“No,” you said. Your heart thumped in your throat. An avalanche of fear and adrenaline made the paper you were holding jump in your hand. You placed it on your desk to hide your shaking. You hated confrontation. 

It was the worst feeling. You hated communicating in a healthy way that something was bothering you. You let it fester until it bubbled in your gut, spilling over in an explosive wave of anger, insults, and hurt feelings. You didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. Not that you could possibly hurt Tre’s. He probably locked them away in tiny little boxes and threw them in the bottom of the sea.

“Run that back,” Tre said, smoothly. His voice didn’t rise or fall. He sounded quite bored. You kept your eyes trained on the invoice in front of you. The numbers started to swim before your eyes. Whatever place you stopped at was lost to you now. You’d have to start over for this one.

“I’m busy. Please email or chat me about what you would like handled during your lunch,” you said. You swallowed painfully around the lump in your throat. You hoped you sounded just as cool and in control. 

You found that you didn’t have a lick of will against him. Too weak to resist that solid man and his black outfits. You wanted to jump through hoops for him. And that was the scariest thought of all. It couldn’t go anywhere. 

Did you want it to? 

A wall of black entered your peripheral vision. You flattened your hands on your desk. You felt sick to your stomach, but you had to remain firm. 

“Look at me,” Tre demanded. 

“No.” You bit the inside of your cheek. Stay strong, stay strong, stay strong. 

Tre huffed an incredulous laugh. He placed his hands in his pockets, calling attention to the fact that you were nearly pressed against his groin. You bit your cheek harder, trying with all your might to resist. 

You really shouldn’t be having sex at the office anyway. You were only bound to get caught. The walls were thin and the smell of sex lingered in his office well after you were done. You took the liberty of buying a candle that smelled like driftwood and fresh green apples to help. 

The janitorial staff weren’t stupid, however. There were only so many tissues one used per day. Plus, your poor pussy needed a damn break. With that animal between his legs, it was a wonder you were able to stand properly at all. 

Tre called your name, pulling your attention back towards him. He leaned down as if he were pointing something out to you. “If you think I’m above snatching you up and throwing you over my shoulder, I’d rethink that,” he said, dropping his deep voice to barely above a whisper. 

You closed your eyes briefly, picturing him throwing you over his shoulder like a caveman. Maybe mindreading did exist after all. He managed to peg your particular kinks down to a science. You opened your eyes and finally looked at him. 

His face was set into a smug smirk. His beard was neat and trimmed, covering the lower half of his face. His glasses caught the light overhead so it obscured parts of his eyes. He was dressed in all black, his usual, and he looked damn good. His deep onyx skin looked good enough to lick. 

“I am quite busy and your lunch is getting cold,” you said, matching his quiet tone.

“How can that be when my lunch is sitting right here?” 

You hated that your pussy fluttered. That you wanted what his eyes and smug smile promised. Your attention turned to his lips and he took his time licking them. His pink tongue darted out and dragged from one side to the other. 

“Sir–” 

Tre moved so fast, you barely registered that he was yanking your chair from your desk. A yelp sprang from your chest but you swallowed it back down, lest you draw attention to yourself. 

“Okay! Okay!” You said, your heart thumping at the thought of someone catching him and his wild ass antics. This had to stop. You got to your feet and he smiled wider, spreading his arm out for you to walk ahead of him. 

You smiled sweetly, but your eyes blazed with fire. You walked ahead of him, your heels digging into the gray carpet, and entered his office. The lunch you grabbed for him was sitting on his desk. So much for your brilliant plan. 

You hoped that you could avoid this scenario by leaving his lunch there and saying without words that you were not on the menu. Nothing was ever easy with Tre. You almost wished that he hadn’t started this little game. You longed for a few days ago when you thought he hated you and you were planning on quitting.

Tre closed the door and the turn of the lock made your nerves skitter along your spine. You clasped your hands in front of your blue and gold dress and stood away from the door. Tre faced you and tilted his head. 

“Why aren’t you sitting on the desk?” He asked.

“I’ve been thinking–”

Tre chuckled. “This ought to be good,” he said. He cleared his throat and dramatically sat on the end of his desk, rubbing his hands together idly. Bastard.

You crossed your arms but then lowered them. You were an adult. It was time to use your big girl words. 

“I am not a sex doll. You cannot snap your fingers and have me come running whenever you want me to. I- We shouldn’t be doing this at the office anyway. We’re going to get caught eventually,” you said. 

It would be downright mortifying if everyone found out. Not only would you lose any respect around the office, you’d have to quit on the spot. This was the most responsibility you had ever been given at a job.

Grabbing lunch and coffee and transcribing notes were not important job duties, but it beat the hell out of working at a college bookstore. You had hated the fake smiling, the dusting, and the entitled customers. You hated that your boss sat on her lazy ass all day, couldn’t process a single transaction at the register, openly played on her phone, and had the nerve to complain if you leaned against the counter for half a second. 

You practically ran that damn store and what did you have to show for it? Nothing but minor sales experience that didn’t qualify you for shit. You were making grown money now. Nothing near what Tre made, but you could afford to treat yourself every now and then. You liked the freedom. And you scolded yourself for putting yourself in this situation. 

Tre tilted his head and looked at you, his eyes starting at your feet and working its way up. It should be illegal to look at someone like that. “When you get all feisty like that, it makes me wanna fuck that attitude out of you,” he said. 

You sighed. He was never going to take you seriously. Tre held up his hands. 

“I don’t mean to treat you like a sex doll, okay? You drive me insane.” He stood up from the desk and approached you. You backed away because you already knew that if he breathed in your direction, you’d be dropping to your knees. 

He followed you until he got in your face anyway, bringing his hand up to caress your cheek. That touch alone set your skin on fire where he touched. “I’m addicted to the way you taste. The way you walk. The face you make when I first slide in. That fuckin’ body,” he said and licked his lips. 

“That’s still using me for my body,” you said. 

He smirked. “I like that you’re not weak. And that you’re a kind person. You care about the people around here even though you’ve never met them. You feed birds and help around the office. You put up with my shit when anyone else would’ve quit on the first day,” he said. 

You swallowed. You had no idea he paid so much attention to you. “You won’t even kiss me,” you said. 

Tre smiled. “Is that what this is about? You want a kiss?” Tre leaned in and you leaned away. 

“I don’t want a pity kiss,” you said. 

“It’s not a pity kiss. Come here,” he said. He placed his hands on your curvy waist and drew you closer to the heat of his body. He licked his lips again before bringing his face closer to yours. You turned your head at the last second and he kissed your cheek. His beard was so damn soft, your knees trembled.

“How can I make this right?” He asked.

“By listening to me. We…shouldn’t do this anymore,” you said. You both got your rocks off and some kinks out of the way. That should be the end of it. You had a wild story to tell your best friend and grandkids one day. You would die with no regrets in your heart. 

“Whoa, whoa. Are you trying to end this?” He asked. His fingers turned bruising, squeezing you tightly. 

“I think so. Yeah,” you said. You nodded your head. Yes, you were trying to end this. “Quit while we’re ahead before something bad happens.” 

Tre blinked behind his glasses and you instantly felt bad. He looked genuinely hurt and it baffled you. He ought to be happy. Why wasn’t he happy about this? 

“I thought we were having fun?” He asked. 

“We were! A lot of fun. But, let’s be real about this.” 

“But don’t I give you what you need? Don’t I make you feel good?” Tre asked. He closed the distance between you, ran his hands over your hips. “Don’t you like the way I make this pussy sing for me?” 

The back of your thighs tingled. “You don’t play fair.” A few well placed words in that deep timbre of his and you were already melting. He liked that you weren’t weak? What a joke. 

“No, I don’t,” Tre said and smiled. He kissed your cheek, making a show of not kissing you on the lips. Great, now he was going to tease you about that too. 

“Sir, can you honestly say that you don’t worry about doing this so often in the office? Anyone can walk by and hear us. Someone can knock on the door right now and it’d be obvious what we’re doing. You will get a slap on the back. But me? I’d be laughed out of here. You have the luxury of not thinking–” 

Tre’s lips pressed into yours and you gasped with surprise. His tongue swooped in, seeking yours. His tongue was surprisingly rough. It toyed with yours, exploring your mouth. Your body heated instantly, responding to his kiss. 

It was better than what you had been imagining the past few weeks. It was slow and sensual. He took his time sucking your lips into his mouth, running his tongue across the width of them before retreating and diving back in. He hummed into the kiss and the vibration made you hum in response. 

His hands cupped your face, tilting your head to the side so he could deepen it. He sucked on your bottom lip and you felt your panties grow damp. Shit. You were supposed to remain firm. Stick to your resolve. 

Instead, your arms wrapped around his broad shoulders and pulled him closer to you. Tre growled low in his throat and his hands lowered down your thighs until he reached the hem of your dress. He dragged the material upwards until it pooled around your waist. 

His hands moved your silky panties to the side, his thumb immediately finding your clit. You moaned as his calloused thumb traced wet circles around it. “Feel that pussy gettin’ wet for me?” He asked against your lips. 

You held onto his shoulders for dear life as he played with your pussy the way he played with your mouth. He slowly moved his thumb in small concentric circles, your arousal gushing out of you. 

“S-Sir,” you whispered. “Please.” 

“Tell me to stop because I can’t. Tell me,” he said. 

Your body shook against him. He was supporting your weight effortlessly while he systematically broke you down mind, body, and spirit. 

You whimpered as your belly tightened painfully. Oh fuck, you couldn’t speak. 

“Tell me to stop because I don’t have the strength to resist you anymore,” he said. 

He kissed you again as his thumb increased in pressure. You whined as your orgasm finally swept through you, burning you from the inside out. Tre held you while you convulsed in his arms, your legs turning to jelly. 

Tre picked you up and moved you over to the office chairs in front of his desk. He sat you down and kissed your cheek. “I have something for you.” 

“What?” You asked. 

Tre sucked on his thumb while he rounded his desk. He opened his desk drawer and plucked something from it. He walked back around the desk and knelt beside you. He held a rectangular turquoise box. 

Your eyes widened as you shook your head. “I can’t accept that,” you whispered weakly. Your head spun. This day was not going according to plan and it was driving you nuts. You had clear intentions this morning when you woke up, determined to stick to it. To not get so easily distracted. Yet here you were. Pussy out and shaking off an orgasm. Again. 

Tre smirked and opened the box. Inside, there was a thick gold chain with a small letter “T” in the middle. Your hands reached out to touch it but you drew back, not wanting your fingerprints all over it. 

“I can’t accept this, Sir,” you said. You looked at him but he only lifted an eyebrow. 

He took the chain out of the box and then scooted back. You watched as he slipped off your heel and then looped the chain around your right foot. He slid the chain upward until it nestled around your thigh. 

Tre grinned, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “Knew I got the size right.” He kissed your thigh. 

Your head tilted as you stared at the chain around your thigh. The small letter tickled as it settled against you. “Sir–” 

“You’re going to keep it. If I find out you took it off, that’s your ass,” he said. 

“I’m trying to break up with you!” You said.

Tre nodded and looked at his watch. Ignoring you completely, he grabbed your wrists and yanked you from the seat. He sat down where you previously occupied and quickly unzipped his pants, freeing that beautiful dick of his. 

He shoved his pants down and then roughly grabbed your hips. “Sir!” 

You slapped at his hands but he continued to ignore you. He pulled you until you straddled him. It was tricky to maneuver around the handles of the chair but it was almost like he had this exact scenario in his head when purchasing these chairs. It was wide and plush, able to accommodate not only his big frame but also you in his lap. 

“Got a meeting in ten, gonna have to make this quick,” he said.

Mind always on his damn business. You shoved at him, but his fingers found your clit again. You were soaked from your earlier orgasm and he moaned low and deep. 

“Tell me to stop,” he demanded. His eyes found yours and he paused, waiting for you to make a decision. Weren’t you here to tell him to fuck off? To end…whatever the hell this was? 

“Fuck me,” you breathed.

Tre grinned widely, a downright wicked smile that melted you like butter in a frying pan. He moved your panties to the side again, running the tip of his dick along your slick folds. You groaned as he slipped inside.

“That face there,” Tre moaned. 

You had no idea what you looked like right now. Perhaps a madwoman. Perhaps an idiot. The only thing you knew was that you needed him like a bad habit.

You wished you could see the expanse of his chest. Not just his exposed neck. Sometimes he wore ties, but for the most part he kept the top few buttons loose. You licked your lips, leaning forward to finally lick that vein in his neck.

His hips jerked sloppily and he groaned. “Feel so fuckin’ good squeezing this dick like a good girl,” he said.

You dropped your head to his shoulder as those words activated the demon inside of you. You couldn’t scream like you wanted to or truly bounce on his dick. But you could match his strokes and contract on his dick, sucking him into your body. You rode him more than he made you ride him.

His hand gripped the chain around your thigh. The chain dug into your skin as if he wanted to brand the “T” into it. His head was thrown back. His glasses fogged up and his lips moved, murmuring something you couldn’t hear. The pleasure on his face made you grind into him harder, take him in deeper, and wrap your hands around his neck. 

You chased your pleasure. Your heavy breaths were rushed, escaping you. You thought of nothing else but the slide of his dick inside you. 

“Take what you need. Take this dick,” he groaned. 

And you took it. You rode him until your body squeezed with undiluted bliss. Euphoria zipped through you, catching you on a hook and pulling you through time and space. You were mindful of your moans, biting down on his jacket to keep from screaming out your orgasm. 

Your convulsing walls squeezed his dick and his face twisted. “Fuck me,” he moaned as he spilled inside of you. Hot spurts of cum pulsed inside of you and your thighs shook as you calmed down from your orgasm. 

You collapsed fully on top of him, panting against his chest. You two will never be able to keep your hands off of each other. The truth of it was apparent. You attacked each other every time you got near each other. How had you resisted this man for so long? How had he resisted you for so long? 

What the hell did this mean? You weren’t trying to “define the relationship” because there would never be a relationship. You knew that. But your stupid pussy didn’t. You wanted to keep going. To keep riding him until the sun set and you milked him dry. 

“Come to my place tonight,” Tre said. He looked at his watch. 

You got off of him and stood on wobbly legs. Tre got up and handed you some tissues while he cleaned himself off. You cleaned up what you could, but you’d have to go to the bathroom to truly feel clean. 

He zipped himself back up, fixing his pants. He was a bit crinkled, but he was lucky he was a man. A few flicks and he was fine. No one would care if he had a hair out of place. You on the other hand…it would take you far longer to set yourself back to rights. 

“What?” 

“Should I be worried that your hearing is shit?” 

You sighed and rolled your eyes. He really could be an ass. “Sir–” 

“Just bring your sexy ass to my place.” He looked himself over, finding the spot you bit to keep from letting the office know that Tre was working your shit. He swiped at it but it was wrinkled. He shrugged his shoulders. 

Perks of wearing all black, no doubt. If people stared hard enough to see a wet stain on his jacket, then they were too fucking close. He checked his watch again and then walked up to you, kissing you on the lips. 

You sighed into the kiss, melting once more at the power of it. “Leave work early. Go get pampered. Meet me tonight at seven.” 

You were about to ask what the hell he was talking about. He fished out his wallet and then handed you a black card. You stared at it as if he were handing you a deadly snake. “I can’t take that!” 

Looking at it felt like a crime. It felt like as soon as you touched it, cops would descend from the ceiling and cart your Black ass off to jail. You looked up, making sure there were no places for invisible cops to hide. 

Tre pressed the card into your hands. No cops in sight. It was lightweight but heavy with the burden of taking care of it. Your nerves kicked into overdrive. You couldn’t accept this! You tried to hand it back, but Tre only pecked your lips. 

“Seven on the dot,” he said. 

He disappeared from the room, closing the door behind him. You stared at the card for a hot second. You didn’t even want to think about the balance on this thing. More than your apartment and car combined. More than three of your apartments and cars combined. More than that! 

You huffed a breath, placing the card down on his desk. That didn’t feel right. That felt worse than keeping it in your hand. What if it slipped off and under the desk? What if it fell through the floor and some weirdo found it and spent all of his money? What if you lost it? 

Panic raised your shoulders to your ears. The earlier relaxed feeling leached out of you as you ran through multiple scenarios. Now you have to keep it and hang on to it. It wouldn’t be safe otherwise. 

Underneath the panic, there was a kernel of excitement. You held a black card in your hand. The first and probably last time you would ever hold one. And he said to pamper yourself, right? 

You lit the candle in his office. The light aroma of green apples hit you and you prayed that it would be enough. You tidied the room, trying to get rid of most of the evidence that you were once again being nasty at work. 

Something had to give. This couldn’t continue. You weren’t going to kid yourself. You were definitely going to his place to get dicked down again. He was addicted to the way you tasted and you were addicted to the way he broke your back. It was a dangerous alliance and you were going to regret it when this blew up in your face. 

But hell. For now, you were going to do as he directed. You were going to pamper yourself on his dime. It was only right, right?

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 - Completed

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Tre Files #Trevante Rhodes fanfic #Trevante Rhodes fan fiction #Trevante Rhodes fan fic #Trevante Rhodes fanfiction #Tre x Black!reader #Tre x Black reader #x Black reader #Tre x Fem!reader #Tre x Fem reader #Tre x Assistant!reader #Tre x Assistant reader #Candy Cane Lane fanfic #Candy Cane Lane fan fic #Candy Cane Lane fanfiction #Candy Cane Lane fan fiction #Tre x you #Tre x reader

[frostedfaves]

I Know Best

Masterlist

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: You decide to misbehave at the same time Wanda's home is threatened and she's pissed about it. (rewrite of WandaVision, episode 5)

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, mean mommy Wanda (but soft later), dom/sub dynamics, smut: punishment by overstimulation (and crying as a result), wanda uses her powers for evil 🤭, fingering

A/N: so not following the decades thing entirely because Wanda looks the same as she did in present day but she does change into her Scarlet Witch fit when she feels threatened 👀 anyway enjoy!

-

It wasn’t often that you went against Wanda’s rules.

You very well knew the consequences of doing so, and truthfully you’d gotten so used to her loving guidance and control of things that you wouldn’t dare go back. That control extended to how and when you touched yourself, which happened to be the very rule you’re breaking now.

You were watching a movie on Netflix that wasn’t in English, but you weren’t paying much attention to the subtitles anyway when the two women appeared on screen, hands all over each other. It reminded you of many passion filled nights with your love, and it was that reminder that caused your mind (and hands) to wander.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

The voice comes from behind the couch where you currently have your fingers tucked in your underwear beneath a blanket. Without giving you a chance to answer, the blanket is lifted and your hand is ripped away from your body entirely with your wrist in Wanda’s unrelenting grip.

“I left you alone for an hour. If you need something, you ask me,” she practically growls in your ear, chuckling when she notices you’re shaking. “Oh darling, don’t get scared now. You know better and I know best.”

Before she can say anything else, you both hear what sounds like a plane coming in from outside, which instantly makes her stand up fully and rush to the door. She warns you to stay inside and magically locks the door behind herself as she exits. You rush to the peephole just in time to catch her taking down a drone, grabbing it from the ground and flying off toward the edge of town.

“Is this yours?” Wanda challenged as she tossed the drone toward Hayward, nearly taking him down in the process.

“The missile was just a precaution. You can hardly blame us, Wanda.”

“Oh I think I can,” she replies, a crimson color building in the center of her eyes. “This will be your only warning. Stay out of my home. You don’t bother me, and I don’t bother you.”

“I wish it could be that simple. You’ve taken an entire town hostage.”

Wanda decides to humor the agents by going back and forth with them despite being pissed beyond belief that she was interrupted, even allowing Monica to talk about being an ally before turning them all against each other and making her escape. Despite making her way back into town, her protective attire doesn’t change back to the comfy cleaning clothes she left in. It sticks to her like the anger from any kind of intrusion to her new home and your sudden disobedience all in the same minute.

“Wanda, what was that?” you immediately question when she opens the door, standing up and immediately feeling the urge to sit down again when you make eye contact. “Mommy?”

Wanda doesn’t answer you as she approaches but instead starts ripping your clothing from your body, waiting until you’re fully exposed to push you back down onto the couch. She forces your legs open as wide as they can go, not even smiling this time when she notices your shaking underneath her.

“You want to cum so bad that you couldn’t wait to ask? Fine. Let’s make you cum, slut.”

She delivers a loud slap to your exposed pussy that draws an embarrassed whimper from you, even more so when you realize just how turned on this encounter has made you despite everything. You know she’s well aware of this when she suddenly plunges two fingers inside of you quite easily, but you don’t expect the red mist surrounding her hand and the strong vibration that follows.

“What’s the matter?” Wanda questions with false sympathy as she watches you toss your head back against the couch. “Can’t take Mommy’s fingers suddenly?”

“I can t-take it,” you mumble between gasps and moans.

“Say that again?” 

“I said–ah!” 

You cry out again as she firmly places her free hand over your clit, more red mist and vibration now surrounding the entire area. You’re bucking your hips and clenching muscles, having barely enough time to even ask to cum this time before you reach your peak. You expect her to stop then, but she keeps everything going without letting up even as you try to squirm away from her.

“No, don’t fucking fight it now. You wanted this.”

She uses her elbows to force your legs back open as they threaten to box her in, and it seems that she only strengthens the vibration each time your body jerks away until you finally give up and take it all.

“Mommy please,” you beg however many orgasms later, coughing hard suddenly while tears continuously stream from the corner of your eyes and down past your ears.

“Had enough?” Wanda questions unnecessarily while subtly lowering the strength of the vibration, taking a bit of pity on you despite the way she enjoys your clenching walls around her fingers.

“Mm.”

“Use your words!” she threatens while bringing the vibration up and you let out a surprised squeak.

“Yes, Mommy! I’ve had enough!”

“Good girl.” 

The vibration declines steadily as the red mist fades, but the aftershocks are very much present even as Wanda calmly pulls out of you. Her fingers slide into your mouth and you clean them with as little effort as possible, not even flinching when she pulls you further onto the damp spot underneath you on the couch.

“What will you do next time you want to touch?”

“Ask Mommy,” you reply drowsily, feeling pleased when she places a hand on either side of your jaw and kisses your forehead. “Thank you, Mommy.”

“You’re welcome, angel. Come on, you know what we have to do.”

Wanda rises to her feet first and attempts to bring you up with her, although it takes much more effort than either of you expected. Soft laughter is passed between you until you finally complete the task, and she leads you over to the downstairs bathroom before carefully lowering you onto the toilet. When you open your eyes again, she’s in front of you with a cup of water, gently coaxing you to drink.

Once you’re cleaned up, tucked into bed with your favorite sleep show playing quietly and passed out, Wanda makes her way back to the living room. She cleans up the couch and straightens a few more things before locking up her home and heading over to her closest neighbor.

“Hello again, Agnes,” Wanda greets her glassy-eyed companion with a knowing smile. “I’m going to need your help with something.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x fem! reader #frosty's smut #avengers smut #marvel smut

[just-aake]

Boundless Devotion - Part IV

Pairing: princess!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: MedievalAU. Natasha is the eldest princess of the Romanov Kingdom. As the time of her coronation approaches, she is suddenly forced to make a decision – either find herself a partner or her parents will choose one for her.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

Warnings: slight fluff, slight angst

Words: 4898

A few days have passed since the night of the ball, and you find yourself back at the castle, this time for your usual meeting with Queen Melina. 

Beyond her role as the kingdom's ruler, the queen has always had a keen interest in the sciences — a passion you also shared since you were young.

As a result, you frequently visit the castle to engage in discussions and assist with her latest discoveries and experiments. 

However, recently, your focus has shifted toward some of her previous contributions, especially the ones during the war between the Romanov and Stark kingdoms.

You shuffle in your chair again as you attempt to analyze the information on the parchment before you.

Normally, it wouldn’t take this long, but you can’t seem to concentrate. Your mind is too distracted trying to find the right moment to ask her your questions. 

The sounds of scribbling in the library stop, causing you to look up.

You find that Queen Melina has paused in her writing and set her quill down, looking at you knowingly. 

“Let’s take a break,” she offers.

The two of you decide to move closer to the fireplace for your conversation, and you hand her a cup of tea before sitting on one of the chairs beside her.   

Queen Melina nods her head at you as she takes a sip, indicating for you to speak. 

You lean forward in your seat, eager to discuss your recent findings from your readings.

“In one of the books you gave me, there was a mention of something called the Black Widow operations. I tried to find more information, but there weren't any further details about it anywhere.”

“That’s because it was a secret operation created by your father and me during the war. Only a select few are aware of its existence and purpose,” she explains.

Your shoulders slump at the revelation.

If this operation was a kingdom secret, it's likely you won't be able to uncover any more details about it.

Melina observes your crestfallen expression carefully before making a decision.

“Do you know about the black widow spider?” she asks you.

You look at her in surprise, realizing that she intends to continue discussing this restricted subject with you.

When you shake your head, she continues, “They're named after the tendency of the female species to consume the male after mating.” 

Setting her cup down on the table, she turns her attention to you.

“Your father has always found that concept intriguing — the betrayal of a loved one.”

Of course he would.

You can't help but roll your eyes, hardly surprised at your father's cruel fascination with such an idea.

The queen proceeds with her explanation.

“The Black Widow operations were based on this idea. At the time, I had recently developed a serum that relaxes a person's mind and their compulsions. Combined with your father’s conditioning methods, we were able to develop a new way of gaining information from our enemies.” 

“By controlling them,” you interject, already suspecting the true nature of the operations. 

She nods in acknowledgment, confirming your suspicion.

“Once activated by a handler, the affected subjects would unknowingly search for the information that we needed and relay it to us without ever realizing what they were doing.”

“So these subjects were unaware of what happened to them?”

Your hands clench involuntarily at the unsettling thought of being controlled without knowing to eventually betray your loved ones.

“This was during the time of war,” the queen reminds you. “The Stark Kingdom had made significant advances in their weaponry, and we needed something to help shift the balance. Your father ensured that the process wiped away all memory of the conditioning.” 

Her gaze becomes solemn as she gazes into the crackling fire.

“Initially, that was the sole purpose of these operations — to gather intelligence. But as the war dragged on, Dreykov grew restless.”

She continues with a sigh, “So, he expanded the operations beyond controlling just the subjects' thoughts, but also their actions. He believed that this would be the key to victory in the war.”

“But you didn’t agree,” you say as more of an observation than a question.

Melina nods, her expression tinged with regret.

“Dreykov and I had shared similar ideals and aspirations for many years. We would have done anything to win the war for a better future for the kingdom.”

“What changed?” you ask, curious about the turning point in their history.

Her gaze softens, a faint smile on her lips as she reminisces.

“Well, everything appears different when you are about to start a family.”

Realization dawns on you as you remember.

Natasha was born near the end of the war.

Melina lets out a sad exhale as she continues. 

“I could sense that the Starks, too, were growing weary of the war. They already had a son and were expecting another child soon,” she adds, her voice laced with understanding. “And for a moment, I believe your father also understood what I meant…when he had you.” 

Your expression turns doubtful at her words, but the queen doesn’t notice as she finishes.

“So, a peace treaty was made between the two kingdoms, stopping the war. Everything was supposed to be okay.” 

“But it wasn’t.”

You can continue this part of history. Everybody knows of the tragedies that followed immediately after the war's end.

“My mother was killed in a fire by enemies seeking revenge on my father. And soon after, the captain of the Stark kingdom murdered King Howard, Queen Maria, and their newborn daughter, leaving the surviving son, Prince Tony, to assume the throne.”

You furrow your brows at an unnerving thought.

"The captain…he was a part of the operations, wasn't he?" you inquire, piecing together the connections.

“I don’t know,” the queen admits with a heavy sigh. "Your father was still grieving when I confronted him about it, but he denied any involvement."

She shakes her head at the memory.

“Nevertheless, I closed the Red Room and put an end to the Black Widow operations, and any further research on them has been sealed and restricted ever since.”

You look down at your hands sadly at the information.

“So, there was no method developed to undo the conditioning on those affected,” you conclude.

Melina gives you a sympathetic look and places a reassuring hand on your shoulder for comfort.

You let out a disappointed sigh. That means you’re back to where you originally started in your research. 

A silence follows for a moment before the queen decides to speak, her tone more lighthearted to contrast the somber atmosphere.

“I’m glad to see you and Natasha are close again.”

When you look at her in surprise at the shift in conversation, she raises her eyebrow at you, teasingly adding.

“Well, closer. I heard about your little display the other night.”   

You flush under her gaze as you hide your face behind your hand, still embarrassed at the memory. 

The two of you were swaying slowly to the soft music in an isolated corner of the dance floor, within perfect view of the other nobles in the ballroom.

“I have an idea,” Natasha says with a smirk.

You are about to question her when Natasha suddenly tilts her head and leans in, her face covering yours from the watchful eyes of the other nobles. 

You close your mouth in surprise, your next words lost as your eyes widen.

From everyone else’s perspective, it appeared as though the princess just leaned in to kiss you. 

In reality, Natasha’s lips hover just above yours.

A breath’s distance separated the two of you. If you move even a little, your lips will touch hers. You feel your heart beat faster at the thought.

Before you can react any further, Natasha pulls away, her eyes shining with amusement as she teases you.

“That expression on your face is really cute.”

Internally groaning at the memory, you feel your face grow even warmer in embarrassment.

After Natasha's bold move, there is no denying what the other nobles believe is your current relationship with the princess. 

The point becomes even more evident when Kate's excited exclamation at the sight of the two of you supposedly kissing draws the attention of everyone in the room.

Melina lets out an amused chuckle at your reaction.

“I’ve always known you two would be a good match.”

You lower your hands from your face and tilt your head, puzzled by her comment.

What did she mean by ‘a good match’?

Just as you're about to ask her for clarification, a knock at the library doors interrupts you.

Natasha steps into the room, her gaze shifting between you and her mother.

“Are you finished with Y/n?” she asks.

Melina waves her hand in dismissal.

“Go ahead, I remember what it was like to be young and in love.”

Natasha rolls her eyes and extends her hand to you, nodding towards the exit.

"Let's hurry before she starts sharing her old love stories."

As you're leaving, Melina calls out to you both, “Y/n, please join us for dinner tonight. And Natasha, don’t be late again.”

You nod in acknowledgment as Natasha groans and pulls you out through the doors.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Natasha strolls beside you along the stone paths that lead to the castle’s garden.

Besides the gardeners, other castle staff barely go through this area, leaving the both of you isolated from prying eyes or ears.

After checking that nobody else was around, she turns to you with a question that she’s been wondering about since the night of the ball. 

“So my plan was to pretend until after my coronation. What exactly is your plan?”

You raise your brow teasingly at her.

“What, you don’t want to be in this fake relationship with me forever?”

Natasha huffs in disbelief, shoving your shoulder with hers lightly.

“I’d marry you myself if it means you don’t have to be with that jerk.” 

And she was serious. You were her closest friend and an important person in her life. She would do anything to make sure you were safe and happy.

You smile softly at her, shaking your head in refusal.

“I just need time to look for someone else suitable enough to replace Lord Rumlow.”

“Better than me?” Natasha teases.

You chuckle, rolling your eyes exasperatedly as you walk ahead of her. 

Reaching the garden’s entrance, you stop and turn around to face her with a serious expression.

“Alright, we should get our story straight.”

Natasha gives you an amused look.

“What do you mean?”

“We need to come up with how we became a couple,” you explain.

Natasha crosses her arms and tilts her head in thought before shrugging. 

“There’s not much to come up with,” she reasons. “It’s a typical story. A princess and her childhood friend. One day, the friend realizes her feelings for the princess, confesses, and then they decide to be together.” 

You raise your brows playfully at her words, barely concealing your grin.

“Somebody’s confident.”

In response, Natasha gracefully plucks a red rose from a nearby bush, a teasing smirk on her lips, as she leans in close and offers it to you.

“You’re the one who said I could get anybody in this kingdom to fall for me.”

You accept the flower with an amused laugh, gently pushing her away. 

“Well, I’m not just anybody,” you tell her as you brush past her into the garden.

Natasha watches you go with a soft smile before following after you. 

“Alright then, let’s say that I was the one who fell first and confessed to you,” she offers, catching up to you. “We don’t need to reveal anything more than necessary.”

You nod in agreement, stopping and turning back around to face her again. 

“Then what about how we act around each other?”

Natasha’s brows furrow in confusion.

“What’s wrong with how we usually act?”

You wave your hand, gesturing vaguely in the air.

“I’m talking about other things, you know, like affectionate touches or….” your voice trails off as you think of the other things couples typically do.

“Kissing?” Natasha finishes for you with an amused smirk.

“I have never seen your face turn that red before,” she says with a light chuckle at the memory of the other night. “I’m not sure how long we’d be able to pull this off if you are constantly blushing at my actions.”

Your expression turns into a pout at her teasing.

“You just caught me by surprise. Anybody would be flustered in my position.” 

“I’m not so sure about that,” Natasha replies, confident in her ability to maintain composure since she is used to the many flirtations from the other nobles and was unfazed by all of their attempts before.

“You don’t think I can make you flustered too?” you ask as you place your hands innocently atop her shoulders.

Natasha tilts her head and squints suspiciously at you, unconvinced.

“You can try,” she says skeptically.

A sly grin appears on your lips at the challenge. 

Without hesitation, your hands glide down from her shoulders and rest against her front, just above her chest. You move in close, your bodies not quite touching but enough for her to feel your warmth. 

Natasha’s eyes widen slightly in surprise but she doesn’t step away, unwilling to back down.

Your face leans in slowly until your lips hover a breath away from hers, mimicking what she did the other night. But then your voice drops to a low whisper against her lips.

“Are you sure about that?”

Natasha locks her gaze onto yours, and for a moment, the world around her fades until her only focus is you. Her words seem caught in her throat as she feels her heart quicken slightly.

Your head shifts to the side, breathing gently against her neck before moving your lips up next to her ear. 

“Gotcha,” you murmur. 

You pull back swiftly and step away, removing your touch from her body and innocently clasping your hands behind you. Your eyes sparkle with triumph as you tilt your head teasingly.

“Looks like the princess can blush after all.” 

Natasha blinks, momentarily caught off guard as she raises a hand to rub at her warm cheeks in surprise, feeling a faint blush spreading. She coughs lightly, regaining her composure.

“Not bad,” she admits absently. 

Your smile widens in victory as you reach for her hand, intertwining your fingers. 

“We don’t actually have to kiss.” Waving your clasped hands, you tell her. “Touches like this should be good enough for the public.”

You pull her towards the castle. 

“Come on, Natasha, we wouldn’t want to be late.”

Natasha hums distractedly in acknowledgment, but her focus remains on your clasped hands as she wonders to herself. 

Why was her heart still racing?

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

On the way to the dining hall, you noticed that Natasha was oddly quiet, but when you glanced back at her, she offered you her usual smile. 

As you enter, you see Queen Melina and Yelena are already seated at their respective positions at the table. King Alexei is away on a short trip to the neighboring kingdom, so his seat at the other end is empty. 

An additional chair which you assume is yours has been placed next to the other empty one beside the queen.

Natasha goes to pull out the chair next to her usual seat for you, but Melina stops her.

“Natasha, move over for Y/n. We have much to discuss.”

Yelena begins to laugh at her mother’s blatant display of favoritism, but she masks it with fake coughs when the queen shoots her a disapproving look.

Rolling her eyes, Natasha complies with her mother’s request, pulling out her usual chair for you instead. As she pushes you in, she leans down to whisper, “I told you, she likes you more.”

Melina looks between her two daughters and remarks sarcastically, “Oh, I’m sorry, did you or Yelena suddenly develop an interest in my experiments?” 

Yelena hastily shakes her head, diverting her attention to petting Fanny beside her.

You tilt your head at Natasha in confusion as she settles in the seat next to you.

“I thought you liked to hear about her experiments.” 

Over the years, you’ve frequently talked with Natasha about your sessions with the queen, and she always seems genuinely interested in what you say.

Melina arches a brow at Natasha. “The last time I tried to discuss my findings with you, you brushed me off and told me that you would simply read about them in your next lessons.”

Natasha shrugs indifferently as she replies, “It’s more interesting when Y/n explains it.” 

Melina gasps in offense at her daughter’s words.

Yelena’s expression shifts into a teasing smirk as she gestures between her sister and you.

“What she means is she just enjoys listening to Y/n talk.”

Natasha discreetly kicks Yelena under the table in reprimand. 

“Ow,” Yelena shoots a glare at her before turning to her dog.

“Fanny, bite,” she commands.

The dog playfully bounds under the table toward Natasha, only to stop abruptly at the sight of a treat in your hand.

You toss the treat to Fanny and pat her head as she happily settles down beside you.

Yelena gasps in mock betrayal at her dog. 

As the dinner meals are brought out and set down on the table, Melina turns her attention to you.

“So, Y/n, what are your plans for tomorrow?”

“I’m heading into town for some errands,” you reply.

“Oh, will Natasha be joining you as well?”

You pause, a bit surprised by her question. You definitely were not expecting to have Natasha join you on your trip tomorrow.

“I am?” Natasha asks for you.

“Well, since you two don’t have to hide your relationship anymore, this would be a great opportunity for you to have a date,” Melina suggests.

“That’s…right,” you say, looking at Natasha nervously, realizing the implication. “We can go on dates in public now.”

Melina narrows her eyes disapprovingly at her daughter.

“Unless you are too busy training to take Y/n on a proper date, Natasha?” she asks accusingly.

Before Natasha can respond, the doors of the dining room burst open, drawing everyone’s attention.

King Alexei enters joyfully and makes his way to his chair while greeting everyone.

“Sorry I’m late, my family—ah and Y/n, nice to see you again—I have an exciting new story to tell you about my journey!”

Melina gives him a questioning look at his presence.

“We weren’t expecting you back until tomorrow,” she remarks.

King Alexei waves his hand nonchalantly.

“The guards wanted to get back sooner after the attack on the road.” 

A plate is set down in front of him before he continues.

“That’s the story I wanted to share with you all. There I was, surrounded by twenty mercenaries, all pointing their weapons at me.”

“Wait, you were ambushed?” Natasha interrupts with concern.

He grins and nods, his eyes glinting with excitement.

“Aye, it was exhilarating. I haven’t felt this energized since my days in the war. You know, this reminds me of the time when I had to fight with one arm and leg broken.”

Yelena waves her hand dismissively, commenting, “We’ve heard that story many times already. Can we get back to the ambush?”

“Yelena!” Melina chastises.

“What? Obviously, it turned out okay if he’s here now,” she defends herself.

The queen rubs her head in exhaustion at her family before standing up.

“I’m sorry, Y/n, you’ll have to excuse me. Apparently, I need to speak with my husband and the captain in private.”

With that, she drags King Alexei out of the dining room, leaving the three of you to finish up your meals.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“You didn’t have to come with me.”

Your voice breaks the silence in the carriage, pulling Natasha from her thoughts. She turns to you, sitting beside her in the carriage.

Registering your words, she scoffs in disbelief.

“After what happened to my father, you’re lucky I didn’t just have you stay the night at the castle.” 

Your head tilts in thought at the idea.

“It has been a while since we’ve had a sleepover at the castle.”

Natasha shrugs before commenting, “I’m not opposed to the idea.”

Her smile takes on a teasing expression.

“Though it may be inappropriate now that we’re technically a couple. Imagine the rumors that would spread if someone saw that you spent the night in my room.”

Your face flushes a light shade of red at her words, and Natasha’s smile widens at the sight. She’s growing fond of being the cause of such blushes on your face. It was quickly becoming her new favorite expression from you. 

You shoot her a playful glare, already knowing she was teasing you on purpose.

“Or I could just stay in one of the guest rooms.”

“But that’s no fun,” Natasha sighs in mock disappointment.

The conversation drifts off into a peaceful silence for a moment before Natasha recalls her mother’s earlier comment.

“You know, I can come with you tomorrow into town if you’d like,” Natasha suggests hopefully. She misses spending time with you like the way the two of you used to do.

You shake your head in refusal, replying with an understanding tone, “You don’t have to, Natasha. I know you have other things you need to do.”

Frowning at your words, Natasha rests her hand atop yours before responding sincerely, “I’ll always have time for you.” 

She leans against your shoulder, bumping it lightly. 

“Besides, my mother's right. This will give us a chance to show our ‘relationship’ to the public.”

You let out a laugh in disbelief.

“So we’re going to have a date because of your mother’s suggestion?”

Natasha gives you a pointed look.

“We wouldn’t want her to become suspicious. We have to make it seem like we’ve been together in secret for a while already.”

Your expression turns contemplative and you let out a worried sigh at the reminder.

“Then maybe we should practice things like kisses on the cheeks or the hands too so that we’ll look more comfortable with each other if it ever comes up,” you wonder out loud.

Natasha feels her heart quicken slightly at your words, but then she regains her composure, clearing her throat and shaking away that strange feeling in her chest.

“Do you want to try?” she finds herself asking without thinking.

Natasha watches as you ponder in thought before nodding at her with a determined expression. Facing forward with your cheek towards her, you close your eyes tightly in anticipation.

“Okay, go ahead,” you say.

Natasha holds in a laugh at your adorable expression as you wait for her to kiss you on the cheek. She can’t help but tease you as she leans in.

“Why are you so tense?” 

You open your eyes and turn to her defensively.

“I’m not—“ 

Both of your eyes widen in surprise when Natasha’s lips brush softly against the corner of your mouth.

The two of you remain in that position for a moment, too shocked to move.

Eventually, Natasha is the one who pulls away first, her eyes locked onto yours. It feels just like that moment in the garden where everything around her disappears, her heart racing like before.

When you lightly bite your lips where she had touched yours, Natasha finds herself drawn to you at the movement, unconsciously leaning in again.  

“We have arrived, Your Highness,” the coachman calls out as the carriage slows to a stop.

That brings Natasha back to reality as she pulls herself back in surprise. She looks away from you, clearing her throat lightly to find her voice before responding to him. 

“Okay, thank you.” 

When she turns back to you, she finds your head slightly ducked and looking away, a definite blush on your cheeks. 

The carriage door is opened by your night gatekeeper who helps you out of the carriage. Natasha follows you soon after, rubbing her neck nervously.

“Y/n, about that kiss…,” Natasha trails off, seemingly at a loss for words. 

You chuckle lightly at the sight of the usually confident princess reacting so shyly, so you decide to make sure she knows that everything is still okay between the two of you, despite the accidental touch.

Raising your hand to cup her face, you lean up and give her a soft kiss against her cheek.

When you pull away, Natasha gives you a confused look. 

“There, now we’re even,” you tell her in reassurance.

“Well, that display certainly confirms the rumors I’ve been hearing,” a sudden voice interrupts.

Both you and Natasha turn towards the source and see your father descending the stairs toward the two of you.

Natasha gives him a polite nod and smiles in greeting.

Despite being close friends with you for years, this is probably the first time that she has met your father personally outside of formal events. 

“Good evening, Lord Dreykov.”

“Princess Natasha,” he greets, giving her a curt nod.

“I see you’ve brought my daughter home from her frivolous activities,” he continues with a condescending tone, his harsh words aimed at you.

Natasha’s smile fades at his tone and the insulting comment towards you. She turns to give you a questioning look but finds your head ducked toward the ground, avoiding her gaze.

Returning her attention to your father, Natasha remarks coldly.

“I don’t believe we’ve ever had a proper conversation with each other.”

“No, the last time I saw you, you were still a child,” Lord Dreykov states, examining her critically, his eyes scrutinizing her. “Some in the kingdom might even argue that you're still a child now, hardly ready to rule.”

Natasha smirks confidently in understanding, her posture straightening at the challenge. She’s no stranger to facing older nobles who are wary about her capabilities of taking the throne. 

“I assure you that I am fully prepared to follow in my mother's footsteps. Though, I am open to insights from those who believe they know better.“

He scoffs at her words.

“My suggestion would be to not tread the same path as your mother.”

“Do you disagree with the decisions she made for the kingdom?" Natasha questions.

Lord Dreykov waves his hand dismissively as he admits, “Queen Melina possesses a brilliant mind, especially when it comes to her scientific discoveries and experiments.” 

His voice shifts into a tone of disdain.

“However, her choices as the ruler of our kingdom — let’s just say, not everyone views her decision to accept a peace treaty when victory was within reach as a wise choice.” 

“And yet both kingdoms have been at peace with each other for over two decades,” Natasha points out, her voice unwavering.

“If that is what you believe, then allow me to offer another piece of advice, Your Highness,” he says, feigning politeness.

“Peace is often just a thin veil, concealing the demons lurking underneath. You can never predict when a friend one day may suddenly become your enemy the next.”

His tone remained neutral, but Natasha sensed a subtle warning in his words. She is about to argue when she feels your hand grab hers. 

Natasha looks over to you and finds your face now pale, just like that moment back at the ball when you were speaking with Lord Rumlow. 

Glancing down, she notices your hand trembling slightly as you hold hers, but you quickly cover your clasp hands with your other hand, stopping the shaking.

Concern fills Natasha’s eyes as she studies your face.

She has never seen you in this kind of state before, so unsure and frightened.

Her eyes narrow as she glances suspiciously at Lord Dreykov, but another tug of her hand redirects her attention back to you.

You look at her with pleading eyes, whispering to her.

“Natasha, just go home.” 

Lord Dreykov lifts his head at her, haughtily.

“Indeed, it is growing dark soon. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to the princess on her way home, now would we?”

Natasha clenches her teeth at the sight of his smug expression, unable to hide her new disdain for the noble.

“Natasha, please.”

At your words, Natasha dispels her tense posture before turning to you with a gentle expression.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/n,” she promises, bringing your slightly trembling hands to her lips in a light kiss.

She shoots Lord Dreykov a suspicious glance before retreating into the carriage.

Once the carriage disappears from view, you let out a breath of relief before turning to your father with a sigh.

His hand emerges from behind him, and you involuntarily flinch at the sight of his raised hand, closing your eyes to brace yourself. 

When you feel him pat your head, you cautiously open your eyes and see him smiling coldly at you, his eyes glinting with a sinister look.

“I was disappointed when you told me you were no longer close to the princess, but this…making her fall for you,” he scoffs, mockingly. “Maybe you are not as useless as I thought.”

As he leaves, his words weigh heavy on your heart, leaving you filled with worry. You’re no longer sure if you made the right decision with this plan anymore.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

Series Masterlist : Boundless Devotion

a/n: Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @lightwhoranoutoflight, @taliiiaasteria, @romanoffprentiss, @canvascoloredin,  @silentwolfsstuff, @blacklightsposts, @arcturusseer, @presser24, @dvrkhcld, @jujuu23, @screechcat, @vivs46

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff

[pianokantzart]

The Super Mario Bros. Redux (Pt. 6)

What would happen if, in The Super Mario Bros. Movie, after Mario and Luigi are separated, Mario was the one who ended up in the clutches of Luigi’s eventual arch nemesis, while Luigi teamed up with some of his own close allies to go rescue him? (This part of the story is in one shot format. Most other parts are written in bullet points.)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 ________

A short summary of the things Luigi had done in the past twenty four hours that he had never expected to do in his entire life:

Fall into an interdimensional wormhole. Fight a warrior princess in a crowded arena. Become a royally acclaimed ghost hunter. Enlist in an army assembled to ambush the territory ruled by The King of Ghosts in order to rescue hostages and bring balance to the afterlife. Adopt a dog.

... Though it was more accurate to say the dog adopted him. Normally Luigi had trouble with animals– he could never read their body language, and his clumsiness made for bad first impressions. The few animals he got along with in the past were old and quiet, wanting nothing more than a warm lap on which to lay their head. Polterpup was different; playful and energetic, mischievous yet patient. Luigi couldn’t help but wonder what was the reason behind the attachment– if he himself resembled an old master or friend from the dog’s past life before it became a ghost. It still wore a collar, though the little golden loop on the front had no tag. The collar was bright red, almost a perfect match to Mario’s favorite color. "Heh, you’re just as good at getting into trouble as Mario, too,” Luigi added with a somber smile, kneeling down to oblige the ghost dog’s less-than-subtle plea for belly rubs until it disappeared again, as was its habit. Polterpup tended to suddenly poof in and out of thin air with little warning, and though it seemed to be at random at first, Luigi began to realize the dog mostly came to him when he was feeling alone, which was more often than not as of late. Every new experience, every strange encounter, every unexpected victory made Luigi wish more and more that his brother was around to take part. Hardly a second passed without him wondering what he was doing at that moment, and if he was okay.

Unfortunately, his occupied mind made him a less-than-helpful assistant to E. Gadd. The professor had warned earlier that he had always preferred working alone. The result was a very low tolerance level for “tomfoolery,” as he described it, and it wasn’t long before Luigi’s shaky attempts to help attach upgrades to The Poltergust caused the scientist to lose his patience. One shoddy wire-soldering job later, Luigi found himself being forcibly pushed toward the exit by the surprisingly strong old man. “Go. Shoo. Distract yourself with something else.”

“Like what?” Luigi asked, digging his heels. “What do I do? Where do I go?”

“How about you see the princess?”

“Princess Daisy?”

Luigi lingered in the doorway. The professor adjusted his glasses, and pointed down one of the castle hallways. “Yep! She’s in the greenhouse. I’m sure she could use the company. You two seem to get along well enough.”

“We do?” Luigi placed his hand against his cheek, thinking over their last interactions. They had exchanged blows, but worked together in the end to defeat Boolossus. She had held his hand up as the victor, but she had also toyed with him in a way that made it clear that she knew how weak he truly was. He liked her, that much he knew, but that didn’t mean she wanted anything more to do with him, and furthermore she had a power and confidence to her that intimidated him beyond her status as the daughter of four kings. “I don’t know. I mean, we did make a pretty good team, but she’s royalty! I don’t know anything about how to approach royalty. Do I bow? Or–”

“You’ll be fine,” The Professor assured, only half paying attention as he returned to his work, burying himself back into the open hatch of a large machine.

In the end, Luigi did as he was told. The greenhouse was easy enough to find. As large as the Birabuto Palace was, its corridors were open and easy to navigate, and the guards were surprisingly helpful in giving directions despite their shaky first-encounters.

Finding the large doors to the greenhouse, marked by limestone imitations of crawling vines carved into the archway, Luigi gathered his determination and pushed them open. The first thing that struck him was a wall of glacial cold– a shocking surprise, and the opposite of what he expected from a greenhouse, but this discomfort was immediately undercut by the beauty of the surrounding foliage. The flowers, sparkling with a brilliant, incandescent blue, sprouted from planter boxes and large pots all around in blooms and buds. He thought for a moment that surely they were beautifully-crafted plastic or silicon, but pinching a large leaf between the fingers of his gloves he found they felt as real as any common dandelion. The second thing that struck him was the night sky, clearly visible through the glass walls and ceiling. He had never in his life seen so many stars, and for all his love of science and space he could not recognize a single constellation, which served as an unsettling, but ultimately breathtaking reminder of how far from home truly he was.

“Oh! Hey!”

Luigi jumped and let out a surprised squeak when Daisy emerged from behind a stack of pots to greet him. Her cheeks were tinted pink from the cold, and in her right arm she held a large sack of powdery-white fertilizer that she was distributing between the plants. She laughed at his reaction, but it carried no hint of condescension, just friendly amusement. “I was hoping I’d see you again before we invaded Evershade Valley!” she called, waving him over. “Luigi, was it?”

Luigi approached while holding his hat to his chest, shuddering a bit as the chill bit at the edges of his ears. “Yes, Your Highness.” Daisy once more laughed her friendly, good-natured laugh. “None of that. Just Daisy. No ‘Miss’ or ‘Ma’am’ either. If you’ve gotta be formal, call me Princess Daisy.” Luigi, feeling a little more at ease, put his hat back on his head. “Yes, Princess Daisy.” She gave a nod of approval, then went back to work fertilizing the long rows of plants. “So,” she asked, “What can I help you with, big guy?” “I, er…” Luigi suddenly realized he had failed to come up with a proper reason before arriving here. He couldn’t very well say the professor kicked him out of the lab for being inept, but before he could think of an excuse his attention was re-seized by the plants. Curiosity overcame him to the point that he forgot his worries, and he once more brushed his hand against the leaf of the nearest flower. “Are these where your ice powers came from? In The Battle Stadium?” “Of course! I’m pretty good with a powerup, huh?” Daisy said proudly, “Normally I favor the elephant fruit, but today I decided to switch things up.” “Elephant fruit? There’s other magical plants?” The princess stiffened. Luigi was worried for a moment that he had accidentally said something offensive, but she retained her genuine smile as she set the sack of fertilizer down and placed her hands on her hips. “Wow, you’re really not from around here, are you.” Before Luigi could answer, she walked up and wrapped a friendly arm around his shoulder. “Suppose I should’ve known. Humans aren’t native to this world. The professor is one of, like, two other humans I know. Do you know E. Gadd? Is he your uncle or something?” “I– uh, no. We just met yesterday.” “Let me guess: you're lost." "Well... yes..." "And he said he'd only get you home if you help him.” “What!?” “He’s the kind of guy to pull a stunt like that if he thinks it’s for the greater good.” Daisy explained, holding Luigi a bit closer in a show of sympathy. “You don’t have to do this, you know, you could go home anytime you like. I’ll vouch for you!” Despite the friendly intention behind these words, Luigi felt a lump form in his throat. He slipped out from under The Princess’ side-hug, and stared up at her with a troubled look. “Do you… want me to leave?” Daisy bristled. Her cheeks reddened as she shook her head and waved her hands in dismay. “No! No no no of course not! I think you’re great! It’s just…” She trailed off, rubbing the back of her neck.

Luigi, surprised by this rare show of nervousness, patiently waited with bated breath for her to gather her thoughts, and after a few seconds she continued, quieter than before. “It’s just that I keep thinking about what you said in the arena. You seemed like a guy who had a lot to lose. You weren’t in it for glory or the fun of the fight, you were just scared and… I don’t know… I felt bad for you. Still do.” At this, Luigi gained a slight smile, shyly burying his hands in his pockets and rocking on his heels. “Heh, don’t worry. I gotta learn how to not be scared all the time, y'know?” It didn’t take long before he realized what he said– whose words he was echoing. The gravity of the situation quickly crashed back down on him, robbing him of that small moment of comfort. It was evident by the look on Daisy’s face that she had seen the change in his expression, so Luigi went ahead and explained his predicament before she could ask: “It’s my brother, Mario. We both fell through a warp pipe. I ended up in your kingdom but he ended up in Evershade Valley.”

Daisy cocked her head, the gears turning behind her eyes as everything she had witnessed about the plumber's manner up until now came together in her mind. “Oh. I see.”

“It was my fault. I fell into the warp pipe, and he jumped in after me, and– I… I can’t just leave him.” Luigi heard his own voice crack and felt tears beginning to form in his eyes. Despite this he kept going, the pent up emotions of the past twenty four hours running rampant, unable to be reigned in. “It’s not that I don’t trust anyone else to save him, but I gotta make sure he’s okay! We’ve never been apart this long… and I-... I miss him.” Tears began streaming freely, the cold air burning them into long lines down Luigi’s cheeks. He turned away, struggling to wipe his eyes with the back of his glove. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be.”

Luigi saw a glimmer of white fabric in the corner of his vision. Turning, he saw the princess holding a flower-embroidered handkerchief out to him. He accepted, and dried his eyes. He tried to hand it back, but she was already returning to the flowers, plucking up a set of pruning shears as she went. “I’ve never known a good fighter that didn’t have big emotions brewing under the surface,” she assured. “But don’t you worry, after the way we saved my dads, saving you brother should be no sweat!...” Luigi, hearing a light snip of closing shears, saw Princess Daisy remove one of the ice flowers at its base between where the leaves connected to the soil. Despite being cut off from its roots the plant remained as lively as ever. It almost looked to be dancing happily in her hands as she delivered it back to Luigi.

“...and when you do save him, give him this.” She said, holding out the offering. “If Mario’s anything like you, he’s not going to want to be defenseless, and ice magic is the one of the few things that can combat boos besides your Poltergust.” Luigi smiled. He reached out and took the flower into his hands. He was surprised to find it wasn’t particularly chilly to the touch– clearly the coldness of the room was for the sake of cultivating the plants, not the effect of the flowers themselves. “You seem to really know a lot.” He mused aloud, pressing the gift to his chest. “But… you said humans aren’t native to this world. Where did you come from, then?” He stopped suddenly, realizing the personal nature of what he asked. He searched Daisy’s face for some sign of disapproval, but was relieved to see her smiling just as brightly as before. “Ha! I wish I had an answer to your question!” She laughed, “Dragonzamasu says I hatched from an orange egg that appeared suddenly in a field of flowers. Biokinton says he found me curled up in a bassinet hitched to a shooting star. Hiyoihoi says he found me locked in a gemstone at the center of the oldest mountain in Sarasaland. But I’m more inclined to buy Totomesu’s story.”

“What’s Totomesu’s story?” Daisy’s smile wavered. Luigi wondered once again if he misstepped, but this time easily brushed the thought aside, trusting by now that the princess would let him know if he had done something wrong. She turned away, staring up at the stars through the glass wall of the greenhouse, and Luigi placed himself at the her side, watching the stars in tandem until Daisy finally broke the silence and answered his question: “He found me at the mouth of a warp pipe, barely old enough to crawl and completely terrified. Sometimes I think I still remember that day… as much as I prefer to believe that I hatched from an egg.”

There was such an odd sadness to her voice that Luigi felt an impulse to reach out and reassuringly take her hand, though he had enough common sense to refrain from such an intimate gesture. All the same, he wanted to say something comforting. “I don’t mind that you didn’t hatch from an egg.” He heard himself blurt out.

Daisy shot him a confused look, and Luigi nervously scrambled to explain himself. “What I mean is… hey, you were a baby, y’know? Ain’t nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re already so cool, you can’t be cool every moment of your life, and most babies aren’t cool! And… uh…” Daisy started to laugh. Luigi turned red, but felt a little better now that she was smiling again, even more so when he felt the princess affectionately nudging his shoulder. “Haha! I get it big guy, I get what you're saying!”

Luigi laughed too, in spite of himself.

“Speaking of ‘cool,’” Daisy went on, “I'm freezing!” She rubbed at her arms in a display of discomfort. Luigi, too, was suddenly reminded of just how cold he was. By now the low temperature had seeped all the way through his clothes and skin, triggering a powerful shiver that ran through his core, which was soon soothed as the princess wrapped an arm around him, and pressed him close. “Tell me, Luigi, do you have hot chocolate in your world?”

“I love hot chocolate!”

“Perfect!” With her arm still tightly wrapped around the plumber, Daisy eagerly led him to the egress of the greenhouse. “Let’s get us some good old-fashioned creature comforts before we fight some ghosts!”

"Heh. Yeah. Let's-a-go!" Luigi said, forcing enthusiasm, thankful that he had the cold as an excuse for his uncontrollable shivering.

#my writing #super mario bros #super mario bros redux #super mario brothers #mario movie #mario movie au #Luigi #Polterpup #Princess Daisy #Professor E. Gadd #Luaisy #this got longer than I intended but what else is new

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - 2 GREAT Shows but everything else is kinda blah

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top. Happy new year, BLabies!

Jan 2024 Wk 1

Ongoing Series - Thai

Last Twilight (Fri YT) ep 9 of 12 - This show is really earning its chops, and these actors are executing beautifully. I think this is a great BL, and it reminds me quite a bit of ATOTS, only the physical comfort between the actors is more genuine and easy to watch. Unfortunately a guitar came out. Nice communication tho.

That was a very lovely romantic sex scene. Very prettily done. Classy boys, very classy.

Gah what a beautiful final scene with Day saying the last thing he wants to see is Mhork. Pure unadulterated romance of the highest order.

The Sign (Sat YT) ep 7 of 12 - If killer, why hot? Poor Tarn compelled to try to rescue everyone else from their fate, because he cannot save himself from his.

Meanwhile Phaya is finally learning that you catch more water snakes with honey lube than vinegar.

Stellar confession from Phaya brutally honest and very fated mates.

And another lovely sex scene, so I guess that was a vision and not a fantasy Tharn had.

Lets be clear those two shows were GREAT everything else this week was kinda blah.  

For Him (Thurs iQIYI) ep 6 of 12 - I find the backstory very odd. Are they twins? What happened to Blue? Am I meant to care? Do I care? 

Twins the series (Fri GaGa) ep 10 of 12 - I mostly just feel sorry for First. He’s so rightfully confused. Zee/Sprite keeps blowing hot and cold because they two different people! The after sex cuddle was cute. 

Pit Babe (Fri iQIYI) ep 8 of 14 - Love getting more JeffAlan. Also I switch favorite character allegiances in the trash watch happening here.

Cooking Crush (Sun YT) ep 6 of 12 - Didn’t air this week and I hardly noticed. 

You and My Stars YT 1 of 2(?) - school kids, love triangle, it’s cute enough.

My Universe (Sun iQIYI) 1626 ep 20 of 24 - Just so boring. 3/10 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

VIP Only (Taiwan Fri Gaga) ep 8 of 10 - I’m not into the love triangle. Although I kind of like the new suitor, he’s honest and a good communicator. I appreciate these things in a BL boy. But I begin to wonder if triangles should be left for KBL. Also, this should have been an 8 epper, 10 is too long.

Sahara-sensei to Toki-kun (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 5 of 8 - No ep until Jan 12 

I Became the Main Role of a BL (Japan Sun Gaga) ep 1-3 - AKA BL Drama no Shuen ni Narimashita: Crank Up Hen - A rising star is paired with an (older) former child actor (doesn’t think he’s good enough) in a BL series. It’s fun, built on a dynamic of off screen paralleling the on screen, so near constantly meta. All the tropes are there but are as a result of the filming process. The star turns out to be obsessed with the former actor and very dorky about it. In fact, everyone in this show is a little gremlin weirdo (affectionate). There’s tons of scenery chewing miscommunication drama, slapstick, voice over head hopping, and eccentric sides characters. “And he comes with feathers” applies to a number of my friends. You know I don’t like stories around fan obsession, but otherwise this was enjoyable. 8/10

A nice start to the JBL year. Keep em coming, Japan.  

It's done I Need to Catch up

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - will binge when I have a spare day.

It's Airing But...

[INTERNATIONAL] Cherry Magic (Sat YouTube) ep 3 of 12 - yeah Japan put the smack down on our boys. Sadness. You can use a VPN if you like. Read all about it here.

Playboyy (Thurs Gaga) 14 eps - Dear Playboyy, it's not you, it’s me… I hate you. You’re about as deep (and as palatable) as a shot glass of cum. While I'm sure you’re someone’s kink, you're my weakest link. Goodbye. I DNFed this at ep 5. Frankly I'm impressed with myself for getting that far.

Night Dream (Sat YT) 6 eps - It’s a pain to track down and I really didn’t like the first episode so… DNF  

The Whisperer (Sun ????) 10 eps - Thai horror BL that ALSO involves cheating (what joy is mine). I don't think even the perfect single dimple can motivate me to watch. Word is... it's terrible.

7 Days Before Valentine (Weds WeTV) 10 eps - Giving me Luminous Solution vibes. I'm waiting to binge if safe.

Dead Friend Forever (Thai Sat iQIYI) - horror, meh, tell me if it's worth my time?

In Case You Missed it

All my year end round ups (so far) are as follows:

TOP 10 BL Trends of 2023

Top 10 BL Secondary Pairs of 2023

2023 BLs Best Trope Execution Awards! TOP 10

Best Back Hugs Thailand & Elsewhere

BL 2023 - Cute Bits of Domesticity

BL 2023 - Boys Feeding Boys

BL 2023 - BOOP!

All the BLs Announced for 2023 that didn't happen

Next Week Looks Like This

Starting This Week:

1/9 Time the series (Thai Gaga, WeTV, Channel 3) 10 eps - MFlow Entertainment brings us yet another "fix the past" narrative. After witnessing the gunning down of his beloved, a heartbroken actor uses a magic pocket watch to go back in time and discover the truth and maybe fix it.

1/11 Although I Love You and You AKA Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka (Japan Gaga) - Soga, who, after a divorce and relocation to Osaka, seeks solace in dining at 26-year-old Sakae's restaurant. Unbeknownst to Soga, Sakae sees him as more than just a regular customer.

More Coming Jan 2024

Beside You (Thai YouTube)

Love For Love's Sake (Korea ????)- based on the Manhwa ‘Love Supremacy Zone’ by Hwacha. A young man is dropped into a game based off a novel he loves. His mission is to make another player, YeoWoon happy. But then the game starts unfolding completely different from the novel.

Ossans Love Season 2 (Japan ????) - five years later, will anything have changed? This is Japan so... probubly not. I won't be watching this.

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Yes, you SHOULD apologize!

This was a FANTASTIC moment! Last Twilight

Night Dream referencing the Shrimp Trope.

Some didn't like this bit BUT I love a claiming moment, even in a briefing room... especially there.

I ALSO love a good Grandma Moment in a BL.

Such a good sex scene. The Sign

(Last week)

#two great sex scenes this week! #both from thailand #thai bl #Last Twilight #The Sign #this week in bl #bl updates #the sign the series #for him the series #Twins the series #I Became the Main Role of a BL #Japanese BL #BL Drama no Shuen ni Narimashita: Crank Up Hen #BL series review #taiwanese bl #PitBabe #Night Dream

[dwonfilm]

Come hell or high water. | Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Looming over the Winchesters and [Y/N] is the war between heaven and hell. Dean will ultimately be faced with a choice he’d never be able to make. What will happen?

This will be a multi-part story, not necessarily set in a specific season but around 4-5 (verging on 6 now) would be the best fit.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of alcoholism, violence, sadness.

Mentions: Sam Winchester, Lucifer, Bobby Singer, Crowley, other made-up characters to further the plot.

Here’s Part IV if you haven’t read.

Flashbacks are in bold.

Part V:

It had been about a year since Lucifer had ruined Dean’s life. At least.. he thought it was a year. Honestly? He’d given up trying to keep track of time after a month. Frankly if Sam wasn’t keeping the tally on where or when or how.. Dean had no clue. Well.. that wasn’t the entire truth. There was one thing that he could keep track of and that was the alcohol cabinet. It ran out far more often over the course of the last year than it ever had. Sam tried, several times in fact, to get his brother to sober up. Every couple months like clockwork the younger Winchester would try to pick up more pieces of his older brother’s life. Today had just so happened to coincide with that schedule. Sam sighed, walking into the dank motel room that the brothers had been sharing for a few days. They’d been in Phoenix for a couple of days and once this case had come up, Sam knew it was gonna be hard. [Y/N] was from Arizona and having to face this state without her would be hard for them, of course more so for Dean. “Did you bring more whiskey?” Dean’s words were slurring together slightly, but it wasn’t anything that Sam wasn’t used to—there was hardly a day that went by where his older brother wasn’t drinking himself to the point of blacking out.

“Dean, you can’t help me hunt this thing if you’re shitfaced.” Sam again sighed, because as much as he meant that, he knew better than to come back without the booze. He’d tried that a couple of times during the first few months of her absence. Once in New Orleans and the other in Houston. Both times had resulted in fists being thrown. Louisiana was the time where the punch connected, Dean nailing his baby brother square in the jaw—apologizing for it immediately after. Texas had him shoving Sam into the wall and holding him there before breaking down into a fit of tears. “Mhm, yeah, the hell I can’t.” Again Dean’s words slurred into one another and he pulled his hand over his face. “Sammy.. I can’t. I can’t be here knowing that she isn’t with us.. I can’t be here knowing that and be sober. I promise you I’ll lay off on it next case.. please. I can’t do it here.” Dean sighed, his voice raspy and raw with emotion. It was the most sober sentence that he’d uttered in a long time. Sam moved across the room to the bed that was his brother’s for the time being and sat on the edge. Next to it on the nightstand was an empty bottle of Jack Daniels. “Dean I know this is hard but..” he paused, not wanting to push his brother but this isn’t healthy and at this rate he was killing his liver and quick. “..this isn’t what [Y/N] would want for you, man. She-“ Dean’s gaze shot upward and the bloodshot nature of his eyes was made clear.

“Don’t. Don’t use her for your own personal gain here.” Again his words sloshed together and Sam just looked at him. “My personal gain? Dean the only thing I’m trying to gain here is my brother not killing himself by drowning in alcohol. She wouldn’t want you killing yourself and making yourself more vulnerable to the shit we hunt day in and day out. I know she was your girlfriend, I know she was the love of your life but she was like my sister and I loved her too.” For so long Sam had buried his own grief, his own guilt for letting [Y/N] make that call and letting her leave, his sadness about not only losing someone he cared deeply for but living every single day to watch his brother killing himself slowly. “I promised her I’d take care of you, Dean.” Sam’s voice was just barely above a whisper. He’d expected his older brother to yell, to shove him off of the bed where they sat, to have yet another heated argument with Dean. What Sam wasn’t expecting however was the deep sigh and the shakiness of his brother’s voice when he did speak. “I know.. I’m sorry Sammy.” Dean’s voice was small, it was clear that they both had used the little bit of silence to begin crying. Another silence washed over the two brothers and it stayed like that for a number of minutes.

“I’m worried about you, Dean. I don’t say these things to make you feel shitty man, I just know she wouldn’t want this for you and I don’t want it either. Cas is working a lead that may be able to help us with getting her back, but right now we need to help these families. I’ve been going over some of these details in my head and I think it might be a witch.” Sam explained, but this only had Dean’s irritation return. “Great. We just had to come to Arizona and it just had to be a witch. Someone up there’s got a real sick sense of humor!” He shouted, looking up knowing that if the angels were still tuned in, they’d have heard him. Sam couldn’t help but sigh softly, it really seemed like the world was stacking the deck. However that was nothing new. “It’s late man, try to get some sleep. I’m gonna look some more and see if there’s something I missed—hell maybe I’m wrong.” It wasn’t likely that he was and both of them knew that. “Yeah, alright.” Sam stood up from the bed and moved over to the little table in the corner of the room. Dean reached into his bag, grabbing the same flannel he’d taken everywhere else. When it started to lose the smell of her, he’d spray it with her perfume. He’d just done so last week, so the smell was strong. Laying it between his arms he would slowly sink down to a laying position. Resting his head on part of the fabric and letting the exhaustion and drunkenness take him to sleep.

It was summer, they’d had a surprisingly quiet week. Sam was at Stanford and so the only person that Dean had except for his dad was [Y/N]. They were laid on Baby’s hood, the night slowly enveloping the daytime sky. It was a good week too, they hadn’t really fought much. Right now they’re just enjoying each other’s company and gazing up at the stars. “I think it’s so funny, we’re so small physically in the world and yet we alter it for the better almost every single day.” [Y/N] spoke softly, her [Y/E/C] eyes fixated upon the sunset overhead. Dean turned on his side to face her with a smirk upon his features. “Sweetheart we both know there’s nothing ‘little’ about me.” Dean replied, winking quickly at her. He was met with a smack to the shoulder while she chuckled softly. “Not what I meant, idiot.” She replied, turning her head to face him. Dean’s expression feigned hurt but he was smiling through the mock ‘offence’. His green eyes flicked upward for a moment to watch the sky darken. “I know, sometimes it feels like we should be welcomed into these towns with a party.” He spoke, sighing softly. “You mean like a hero’s welcome?” [Y/N] asked. Dean simply nodded. “I mean.. we probably should. If even half of the world knew what was really out there.. this entire planet would freak. People like us have been.. we’ve had our whole lives taken from us in a sense and yet we just.. keep going.” Now Dean turned his attention back to [Y/N]. “You mean to tell me you’d wanna be normal?” He asked, quirking his brow. She sighed before looking back up to the sky. “I don’t know.. I was never given the chance to know what normal looked like—this is all I’ve ever known.”

Things got quiet for a little while but Dean’s eyes kept finding their way over to [Y/N]. “If you have a question, you can just ask.” She spoke softly, not moving her gaze from the stars that were now making their appearance in the sky. He never knew how she did that—just knew what he was thinking in a way that wasn’t invasive or supernatural. She just.. knew him. “Did you.. did you think about hanging it up before you met me? After.. your dad?” Dean’s tone was soft, he didn’t bring up [Y/N]’s father much because it was obviously a sensitive subject. She released a breath she didn’t realize she was holding and slowly looked over to meet his gaze. “Did the thought cross my mind? Sure. I was younger, you know probably could’ve scammed my way into some college.” She sighed. “I also was distraught and sad and not thinking with much clarity. By the time you and your dad showed up, I was already convincing myself to look for work. Maybe fate brought you to me.” [Y/N] smiled as she reached over towards Dean, her hand gently cupping his face. She knew he was in his head too much, probably trying to blame himself for keeping her from a ‘normal’ life. She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

Dean had woken up as her lips touched his, that was a memory that he’d forgotten he had. Sighing, he squeezed his eyes closed to get rid of the tears he knew had built up quickly. Rolling over he looked at the clock. 7:45AM. Turning around he saw that at some point Sam had gone to bed. There was no way he was going back to sleep now nor did he want to, so he opted to take a shower. There was the beginnings of a headache coming on, because for the first time in.. god knows how long he’d actually taken a break in drinking alcohol. Time had gotten away from him until he heard knocking on the bathroom door. “Hey man, leave some hot water for me.” Sam spoke before walking back to the table to get back to work. After a couple minutes Dean emerged from the bathroom and took a glance at the clock. 8:45AM. He turned towards his younger brother to see him eating, a breakfast burrito on the opposite side of the table for him. “Thanks.” He spoke up before sitting in the other chair and unwrapping the food. “No problem.” He responded before taking a bite of his own food, immediately after leaning closer to his screen. “So, unfortunately, I was right. This is definitely a witch.” Sam said, using his touchpad to scroll further down on whatever he was reading. Dean groaned before taking his first bite of the burrito. While he ate, Sam went over the details of the case and where they’d have to go in order to get more answers.

They’d found the witch, who was killing people for their hearts—collecting them to use in some kind of dark spell to grant her and her coven immortality and power. Sam and Dean had located her home after noticing a pattern with where the bodies had been found by police. This house had a storm cellar and it was likely that she was taking her victims down there to extract their hearts. Despite keeping quiet, somehow the witch had been alerted to their presence. “Sam and Dean Winchester. I should’ve known you’d be on my trail.” She spoke, turning away from the woman who she’d kidnapped. “Yeah well, if you know who we are you should know this little killing spree you’re on is finished.” Dean spoke, his gun aimed at the witch. Sam had his gun aimed too and the witch turned fully to face the brothers. “Is that so?” She asked, an eery smile upon her lips. “We can spare the song and dance cause no one’s interested.” Dean spoke up again. It was clear that his nerves were at the end of their rope. Sam didn’t necessarily disagree with his brother but the tension was getting worse. “I mean, we could.. but then I couldn’t mention the fact that I have very powerful friends.” She continued. “Why would we care who your friends are?” Sam asked, confused that this was the plan to try and get them to spare her life. “I have a spell for immortality and power growth, doesn’t that make you think about what other powerful spells my coven possesses? Ones that could maybe, free trapped people?” She continued and suddenly it clicked in Sam’s brain. “Don’t.” He warned the witch.

Dean quirked a brow but didn’t turn or move, keeping his eyes and his aim on the witch. “What? You don’t want to help your brother?” She asked, the younger Winchester getting increasingly irritated. “What are you talking about?” Dean asked, which caused Sam to groan. This is exactly what he wanted to avoid. “People talk, people whisper. I’ve heard all sorts of things about you two—two who used to be three.” Dean’s stomach twisted in knots. It was clear what she’d been hinting at now and it left a bittersweet taste in his mouth. Sam’s protective instincts took over and he pushed his way in front of his brother. “That’s enough.” Sam warned, his nerves being pushed. However this witch knew that she was in a matter of living or dying and wasn’t going to give up so easy. “What? Hey, if you want to leave her suffer in the pits of hell.. that’s cold but I support it.” Dean winced at this statement. He spent so many nights restless, wondering what kinds of torture Lucifer was making [Y/N] endure—knowing full well that he loved the emotional side of things almost as much as the physical. “I said that’s enough.” Sam repeated, knowing that despite his older brother having a hatred for witches, he’d very likely do anything to free [Y/N]. “You think I’m just trying to keep myself alive, but like I said I know lots of powerful witches. There’s a spell out there that can help. You just have to come back with me. I help you, you help me. We’ll get [Y/N] and—“ Suddenly the witch dropped to the ground, dead. Sam had heard enough and once her name was spoken it was the final straw. Dean moved to free the girl who had almost been another victim, getting her out of there.

Six months later.

Fort Wayne, Indiana—the boys had just finished a hunt. Vamps nest was completely wiped out. After cleaning up, Sam basically forced Dean to go to the local bar. Not because he wanted anything from his brother but he knew that today marked a year and a half since [Y/N] was forced to go to hell alongside Lucifer. Staying in the motel room would only mean that Dean would get too in his head. Sam was hoping that the music and the pool alongside a bit of alcohol would be enough to keep his mind at bay, at least for a little while. Dean sat in a booth sipping his beer while Sam had gone for refills. There was a blonde who’d been eyeing Dean every so often, clearly interested in something. Seeing that he was alone she figured it was the best time to approach him. Confidently she walked over to the table, swaying her hips just a bit with each step. Once she reached the booth she paused, seeing if Dean would react in any way to her presence. About a minute went by and he hadn’t said anything, hadn’t even turned his head to look in her direction. She cleared her throat which broke Dean from his daze. “Can I help you?” He asked flatly, looking up at the woman for a brief few seconds before gazing forward again. “I was just wondering if I could join you, you seem lonely over here.” She tucked some of her blonde hair behind her ear. “I’ll pass.” He stated plainly, hoping that Sam would be back any moment. It was clear her confidence took a blow but she was trying to remain determined. “C’mon.. I’ll get you a refill. What would it hurt to get to know one another?” She continued and it looked like Dean was about to snap but Sam finally approached the booth. “My brother said no, so, go back to whatever you were doing.”

Scoffing the blonde turned on her heel and walked back to her table and friends. Sam slid the fresh beer over towards his brother and sighed before sitting down. “Sorry, I never thought about that.” He spoke up, lifting the glass bottle to his lips. “About what?” Dean asked, but then he clued in. “It’s fine. I never thought about the possibility either. Usually..” Now it was the older brother’s turn to sigh. Usually [Y/N] would either scare the girls off altogether, making it obvious she and Dean were an item or she’d tell them off directly—hell she’d even fist fought a couple. Sam felt bad and in this moment was questioning whether dragging Dean out was doing more harm than good. He watched as the eldest of the two took a swig of the beer he’d been handed. Time ticked, a few minutes of silence between the brothers where the noises of the bar took hold. Suddenly Sam’s phone rang, so he flipped it open to answer the call. “Hey Bobby, what’s up?” He spoke, Dean’s mind having him only paying half attention. It had been several minutes since his brother spoke and that finally had Dean’s full attention. “What is it?” He asked, the expression on his younger brother’s face unreadable. “Yeah that was Dean, he’s with me.” Sam replied, to Bobby, with Dean leaning forward to attempt to hear whatever the conversation was about but he the table stopped him from getting too close. “Sam.” Dean said sternly, trying to get the information. He held up one finger to try and get his brother to wait. “Yeah, alright. We’ll be on our way. Bye.” Sam closed his phone and looked at his brother but the expression was still blank.

“Sam what’s going on?” Dean’s tone laced with worry, confusion and a couple other emotions. “We need to go to Bobby’s—now.” He replied before standing up and beginning to walk towards the door. Blinking a bit, the older of the two was still in a sort of a daze. “Dean! Come on!” Sam called out, which had his brother sliding out the booth and quickly catching up to his younger brother. They walked to the impala and Sam got in the driver’s side, leaving Dean to get into the passenger seat. Flicking his wrist now, Baby’s engine purred to life and the younger Winchester pulled out of the parking space and onto the road. First they had to stop at the motel to grab their stuff and check out. Sam took the duty of loading up their things while he gave Dean the key to return to the office. He’d ran the key back and thanked them for the room before returning to Sam who was just closing the trunk. “Are you gonna tell me what’s going on?” Dean asked, resting his forearms on Baby’s roof. Sam was double checking that he had everything before closing the door to the room. “Sam!” He exclaimed, causing the taller of them to turn towards his brother. “What Dean?!” His mind had been racing ever since he hung up from the call with Bobby. “Are you gonna clue me in? Why do we need to rush to Bobby’s?” Sam knew his brother was right to ask, it wasn’t like him to keep things from his older brother but it wasn’t his call—he also wasn’t sure on things. Hell Bobby wasn’t sure either. “I.. I’m not sure if it’s something and Bobby asked me to just get there, with you, as fast as we can.” He explained, fidgeting with the keys to the impala in his hand.

Dean was confused, searching his younger brother’s eyes for any kind of hint as to what was so important. He wanted to argue, wanted to push for more information but at the end of the day he trusted Bobby. “Okay.” He said, pulling on the handle and getting into the passenger seat. “Okay.” Sam mirrored, slipping into the drivers side yet again and backing out from the motel and taking off down the road. Sioux Falls was their destination and if they could make it without any stops that would be best. Dean’s mind was racing—it could be so many different things. They had so much going on that it was hard to pinpoint what issue Bobby had cracked or what he was getting close to cracking. Man their lives were a mess, a chaotic and insane mess that most humans would never be able to grasp. Sam had a firm grip on the wheel as he drove, which he’d been doing most of the time over the last year and a half. Often times Dean had too much whiskey in his system and honestly, his older brother wasn’t putting up much of a fight about it. When it came time to drive to a different state, Dean was close to the point of blacking out anyway. Most drives during this time was Sam being alone with his thoughts while Dean passed out and slept. Slept until a nightmare woke him up, or sometimes worse, a dream that felt so real that Dean forgot [Y/N] was gone. Those hit him the hardest, the realization that she was in hell along with the sobriety like an 18 wheeler running him down. Nightmares were a toss up. It was either stress and trauma from his own time in hell or it was imagining what kind of suffering that [Y/N] was being forced to endure. Sam wished he could do more, but all he could do was offer moral support and watch.

It was almost two days later by the time that Sam and Dean were pulling into Bobby’s yard. Neither of the brothers could pinpoint where it came from, or when, but their anxiety was piqued. Neither of them really knew what they were walking into but both of them basically sprinted up the steps and knocked once before walking into the house. “Hello boys.” Sam and Dean both wide eyed when they saw Crowley sitting in the living room. “W-what are you doing here?” Sam asked, Dean wasting no time and drawing his gun. “Where’s Bobby?” Dean demanded, but his question was answered immediately after when the older man walked in with a couple of books. “Dammit, boy. Put that thing away.” Bobby spoke to Dean, which had a look of confusion cross the eldest Winchester’s face. “What?” He asked, looking at Singer. “Put the goddamn gun away if you wanna get down to it. We don’t got much time.” Bobby replied, flipping through the pages of one of the books he’d brought in. “What does Crowley have to do with things?” Sam asked, to which the King of Hell laughed. His gaze shifting between both of the brothers before speaking. “Well I’m here to help you lot bust [Y/N] out of Hell.”

Author’s note: Hi! Sorry if the chapters are getting shorter, I can’t tell, but I feel like the story is still being told sufficiently. I still haven’t decided how many parts this will be but I know for the most part where I’m taking it but just wanted to add that in—I feel like the first couple chapters were longer. I guess the lengths just vary with what I’m trying to convey. Hope you guys enjoy! 😊

• —– ٠ tag list: @roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester ✤ ٠ —– • ·

#dean winchester #dean x reader #fanfic #supernatural #dean winchester imagines #spn #spn imagines #dean winchester x reader #fanfics

[blooberrries]

「 extemporaneous 」 — 06 ☾

— pairing: multi; shoto x reader, izuku x reader (so FAR...) — genre: hybrid au, slow burn-ish, reverse harem — wc: 3.8k — rated: sfw — notes: my stupid ass went to post this and then realised that I never actually crossposted chapter 5 on here. oopsies! uwu. anyway my libido has been popping off lately so if there is no smut in the next one then it will probs be the one after that teehee!

You've never really had much to do with hybrids, existing in your own little bubble for a majority of your life. That comes to an end when your friend phones you for help and somehow you end up taking two hybrids off of her hands while they recuperate in the wake of an unfortunate incident. But when the time comes that they have to leave, will you really want them to go?

⟵prev. || masterlist || next⟶

Things haven’t really been the same since that morning. From a ‘platonic roommate’ perspective, that isn’t something to be happy about.

From your perspective though, as someone very much attracted to her roommates and increasingly aware of the subtle tension brewing in the air between the three of you, there isn’t a single part of you that can find the will to complain about it.

Much deliberation occurred after you startled the two hybrids into checking on you that morning. You’d spent a majority of the ensuing shower with your forehead pressed to the tile, trying desperately to use the cool surface as a means of reducing the heat in your face. It didn’t work, and for once the scalding water temperature you normally enjoy bathing in wasn’t to blame.

You thought about a lot of things while you lingered in the glass and tile prison, spending much longer in there than you really needed to. At that point it was more for the sake of your sanity.

Try as you might, you could hardly stop yourself replaying the previous events, focusing on the flustered reactions of your company. You were so embarrassed, but that’s mostly on account of how riled up you’d gotten as a result. Every so often you had to take disciplinary action against your own brain for the recurring deviant thoughts and slam (read: hit hard enough that it sent the message but not hard enough your roommates came running again) your head against the wall with a groan.

Most problematic of your shower-time revelations is the fact that you can no longer ignore the attraction to your roommates that has been steadily building over their stay here. Actually, that’s a lie-- the most problematic revelation is how badly you want to act on that attraction.

This isn’t a work environment and they aren’t employees, but it feels almost unprofessional to have these feelings for the hybrids you are currently offering safe haven to. Then again, you remind yourself that they are both intelligent and consenting adults and have enough bodily autonomy to be able to refuse or accept any advances that may occur. Having said that, you would like to think that they wouldn’t feel pressured or obligated on account of living with you for free should any moves be made. Yet at the same time, you can’t be sure. There’s more unknowns than you’re comfortable with in this situation.

At the end of it all, you concluded that there’s not really anything you can do about the feelings at this point, but at the same time you’re not in a position to act on them.

Ah, an impasse. It’s as relieving as it is frustrating to have the luxury of choice taken from you.

You might have left that ensuite a different woman to when you entered, but that had nothing to do with the rapid shift that has occurred between you all since.

//

“Izuku…. Give it.”

His nose twitches, eyes bright and tracking your every movement with something indiscernible gleaming behind his irises. The laundry hamper stands as the only obstacle between you. Your hands are raised, an attempt to lower his guard by appearing harmless, but Izuku’s hawk-like gaze is locked on your stance as you gradually ease around the side of the woven basket towards him. He counters each tiny step you take with one of his own in the same direction, leaving you both in a stalemate of sorts.

“What do you mean?” Izuku asks innocently, his soft voice raising in pitch towards the end. He apparently finds this hilarious. Ordinarily you probably would too, but currently your shoulders are too heavy with the burden of an impending deadline for you to really enjoy his sudden cheeky manoeuvre.

“I’m just doing the washing. The hamper was getting full, you know?”

“I need that shirt, Izuku.” You decide to be direct, pointing at the button-down currently in his grasp. He plays with the material, ruffling the soft weave in his hand. His eyes flick only once down to the garment before returning o you.

“What shirt?”

Huffing, annoyed but more so endeared, you decide to play along for now. “The one in your hand, with the light grey dots. I need it. Could I please have it?”

He shoves it to his cheek, giving it a subtle sniff. His ears twitch, playful, as his forest-hued eyes bore into you and he clicks his tongue softly. “This? It’s dirty. Dirty clothes gotta go in the wash.”

Apparently not so dirty that it couldn’t touch his face, though. Your lips twitch with the urge to smile.

“Okay, true, but counter-point: I need it right now.” You might be allowed to dress like a slob on the days you’re working from home but that doesn’t mean you can stay dressed like that for any zoom meetings that might pop up – like the one scheduled for an hour from now.

As much as you’re enjoying this, you’re actually expecting Izuku to cave any second now and hand the shirt over.

So it comes as a surprise when one of his dark brows lift, his lids lower, and he says with a curling simper, “What will you give me for it?”

You blink. “Sorry?”

“If you need it so bad, what will you give me for it?” Izuku shakes his head, dark lashes fluttering against his cheeks as he clicks his tongue again. “You’re throwing a wrench in my laundry plans here, Yona. Gotta make it worth my while now the groove has been interrupted.”

He is being so uncharacteristically bold, with such ease, that the only conclusion you can draw is that this is in fact in character for him, just a part of it you’ve yet to encounter.

The realisation makes a flurry of paper-thin wings flutter against your insides. A warm shiver flushes up your arms.

“You’re holding my shirt hostage?!” A laugh tumbles from you before you can stop it. “I’m not gonna reinforce negative habits, no matter how cute you are. Hand it over, buddy.”

You might have thought Izuku would balk, but if anything he seems thrilled at your response. A hand flies to his chest. “Is this what you think of me, Yona? How cruel. I was going to be nice and give it to you but now I have to stand by my initial offer and demand something in exchange.”

You attempt to round the hamper again, taking a step to the right. He takes a step to the left. You are back where you started. This won’t do. Your eyes pin to the shirt, and his gaze follows. A few long, loaded seconds pass by.

“… What do you want?”

Something absolutely devious catches the light in his eyes. His fingers tap against the bunched up material of the shirt. “It’s nothing much.”

“Mhmm. Okay then, what is it?”

“Really, it’s just something small.”’

Your eyes narrow as you pin him with a suspicious look. You’re no longer sure you want to let him lead this negotiation.

“Uh-huh. Okay. Well how about--”

You don’t finish what you’re saying, instead putting all your energy into your legs and lunging at the poor hybrid, attempting to take him by surprise and grab the shirt before he can realise your intention.

“Yona!”

Izuku, like any respectable prey animal would, saw your moves coming from a while away. Unsurprisingly, this gives him a head start as he pivots on his heel and darts away with a delighted laugh.

The little jerk is quick, you’ll give him that, but you’re also not too out of practice with your own cardio. You chase him through a decent portion of the apartment, down hallways and around corners and crying out “Cheating! That’s cheating!” when the hybrid leaps with unfettered grace and sheer athleticism over the couch.

Surprisingly, at some point amongst the laughter and aching limbs, you manage to snatch the shirt. The feeling of victory is brief, though. Izuku immediately takes this as a personal affront and like a classic Tom & Jerry skit you quickly become the one being chased.

“You’re being unreasonable!” you say, yelping inbetween breathless giggles as his fingers graze the skin of your waist. Shit, that was close. Considering he’s a rabbit, he’s way better at chasing than he is at being chased. You skid around a corner and bolt for the hallway that houses the bedrooms. If you can get into your room quick enough, you might just be able to close the door in time to shut him out.

Possibly.

“I’m not the reason negotiations broke down!” Izuku’s ears flop with each bounding step he takes, his eyes bright with mischief and face flushed in slight exertion. You hate how the glimpse of him you see over your shoulder makes your own face heat even more and your gut clench.

A retort is just forming on your tongue when a door opens ahead of you, Shoto’s curious face and one broad shoulder peeking out from behind the doorframe. His mismatched eyes are quick to assess the situation.

“Shoto!” you cry, sending him a look that you hope comes across as pleading and not desperate. “Help!”

He blinks, a lazy smile beginning to tug his lips by the corners, as you bound his way. You think with relief that at least one of the hybrids is on your side. Shoto’s arm shoots out, but instead of stopping the rabbit hot on your heels like you anticipated, it winds around your waist, muscle thick and unforgiving.

“Shoto!” you squawk, your feet dangling as the hybrid winds his other arm around your waist and yanks you from the hallway, your back flush against his chest. “Traitor! I trusted you.”

“Not sure why,” he humms, voice a hypnotic dulcet lull in your ear. He has you lifted so that your eyes are almost even, and he takes the opportunity to nuzzle wherever he can reach, nosing along the column of your neck and below your ear. A shiver rolls down your spine before you can stop it.

“Nice, Sho,” Izuku beams, coming to a stop right before you. A soft thudding noise guides your eyes to the floor, where they catch sight of the hybrids foot thumping against the wood as fast as it physically can. Odd, but somehow terribly cute.

“Finally.”

The rabbit hybrid ignores the shirt still clutched in your grasp and pretty much dives into your neck, nose dragging along the side left empty of Shoto’s own ministrations. A pleased hum rumbles in his chest, and you can’t help but squeak as the single drop of sweat that has formed and begun to slide down your neck is quickly swiped up by his tongue.

You gotta get out of here before you actually explode– your skin feels so flushed you’re sure you have to be only a degree or so away from spontaneous human combustion.

“Are you serious?” you whine, but your worlds tumble into a laugh at the end. Shoto’s hair is beginning to tickle the hell out of you. “You held my shirt hostage because you needed to top up on your scenting? Why didn’t you just ask?”

“Because you’re impatient and tried to steal the shirt before I could,” Izuku snickers, pulling back with a devious grin. You’re so unused to seeing it on his face that it makes your heart skip an actual beat. “I guess you can have it now though. You said you needed it right?”

Oh shit, that’s right.

“Oops, yeah, I do,” you say, beginning to wriggle out of Shoto’s hold. Somewhat reluctantly, he allows you to return to the floor, but his hands remain glued to your hips. “I have a zoom meeting in like half an hour and have to look presentable at least from the waist up.”

Izuku sniffs, sensing this abrupt playtime has now run its course. “Boooo.”

Shoto might have allowed your feet back on the floor, but that didn’t mean he had given up on making sure every square inch of your neck and shoulder carried whatever unique scent he gave off. He suddenly pauses as his nose crosses your pulse point, sniffing softly. Your entire body flushes in response.

“Hm. You smell a little different, Yona.”

Taking his moment of consideration as an opportunity to escape, you slip as gracefully as you can out of his arms. It’s actually a wonder you’re not insulted or embarrassed anymore at the mention of your “smell”. Your brows scrunch a little as you meet his puzzled gaze. “I do? Is it, like… in a bad way?”

“No.” Shoto shakes his head, already reaching for you to pull you back into his arms for round two. You smack his hand gently, your own head now shaking with a smile. He sends you the most criminal ‘kicked puppy’ eyes you’ve ever seen.

“Keep your paws to yourself, sir. I gotta go put this on and finish up some work before the meeting.” You’re already beginning to walk backwards in the direction of your room. They both have the audacity to look kind of bummed, so you bite back a smile and offer instead, “We can cuddle on the couch after I’m finished and watch that anime you guys have been talking about…?”

“Deal,” Shoto says, before Izuku can even blink. The smaller hybrid is then grasped by the shirt and yanked unceremoniously in the bedroom, a meaningful look sent his way when he gives Shoto a questioning glance. “We’ll wait until then. Have fun in the meeting.”

You roll your eyes at the teasing lilt in his tone. He knows you won’t have fun, considering it’s been scheduled for going over some truly tedious training modules. “Sure. See you guys again in like three hours.”

They look a little suspicious, you note as you retreat to your room. You catch sight of them whispering amongst themselves, before they disappear from your view and leave you stewing in your own curiosity.

Man, sometimes you hate working from home. Those two are walking the walking incarnation of temptation.

//

You find out three days later why you would have smelt different to the heightened senses of your hybrid roommates.

Mother nature has come calling with a bloody fist banging on your door.

You’re a little wary of this cycle, if only because you opted to skip your last one and historically whenever you do that the next one you actually allow to happen arrives with some nasty cramps. You’ve actually already called in sick from work since a migraine has begun to form, along with the typical aches you experience on the first day or so. You desperately crave a coffee too, but know from unfortunate experience that having one is literally the worst idea right now.

The house is quiet, enough so that as you step slowly from your room you think the other two are still asleep. You spent the last three days in the office, which is a little unusual since most of your work occurs from home, and both hybrids have expressed varying degrees of disappointment that you have to spend so much time out of the house.

(It’s endearing that they seem to miss you when you’re gone, but you haven’t told them that.)

A sound behind you has you absolutely jumping out of your skin, ripping you from your thoughts as you spin around with a hand to your galloping heart.

“Yona,” Izuku whines, something hot shooting up your spine at the timbre of his voice as he does so. His hands are clutched together, clothing rumpled and hair somehow even more wild and disrupted than usual. He looks like he quite literally leapt from the sheets the second he heard you awake. “I know this is selfish to ask, but do you really have to leave for work again today?”

You look up to meet his beseeching gaze, allowing a moment for your heart rate to return to normal before responding.

Another rumbling, sleep-addled voice reaches your ears before you can do so. Shoto comes up behind Izuku, ears flicking atop his head as he rubs his eye. Your heart skips a beat at the sight they present, all mussed up and in varying degrees of disarray.

Behave, you have to scold yourself internally. You’re no better than an animal, honestly. Maybe you can pin it on hormones since they’re already making things so miserable for you right now.

“Just so you know, Yona, I am not above bribery, whatever it will take for you to work from home instead of—“ Shoto halts suddenly, heavily-lidded eyes flinging open in alarm. He abruptly surges forward, eyes scanning you from head to toe and hands already reaching out.

“Wait, you’re— Yona, why are you bleeding?!”

“Woah, woah, calm down, I’m okay!” You have to physically grab Shoto’s hands to stop him patting down your body like you’ve just walked through airport security and tripped the scanner. Izuku is quick to dart over with an equally alarmed expression. “I’m not hurt or anything, it’s just the monthly usual. I haven’t had one in a while, so you couldn’t have known, but I should have mentioned it so you weren’t so surprised. I’m sorry.”

You watch as the tension visibly leaves their bodies and they sag in relief. You are immediately gathered into the canine hybrid’s arms, the soothing scent of his conditioner allowing your own muscles to relax.

“Don’t do that again,” he scolds you, but there’s no heat to it. Not like you can actually help it anyway. He buries his face in your hair, a hand coming up to thread through the strands. Izuku’s own hands reach out to rub up and down your back from where he stands. “Thought you were dying, or something.”

Izuku snorts. “Like we wouldn’t notice it if she hurt herself badly enough to bleed like that.”

He pauses, then sniffs the air, face still twisted in concern. “Still, that’s a lot of blood… are you okay? Is that normal?”

“Unfortunately,” you answer, wishing not for the first time that wasn’t the case. Your voice is slightly muffled by the firm muscle of Shoto’s chest. “It’ll be done in a couple days or so, though.”

Shoto suddenly pulls back, thick brows drawn close and eyes pinning you with a look that somehow crosses the realms of both bossy and pouty. You gulp.

“You can’t go to work like this,” he says. It isn’t a question, more like a justification for something he is no doubt about to suggest.

“Already called in sick.” You give him finger guns and a wink, proud of yourself for the bare minimum in this moment.

Izuku’s entire face lights up at your words, and Shoto needs no further prompting to begin herding you into the closest bedroom, that being the one you see him leave most often.

“Wait, I was going out of my room to grab some painkillers–“

“We’ll take care of that,” Izuku hums, winding an arm through yours and pressing his cheek to the side of your head, before slipping away to retrieve said medication. You feel bad about them doing it for you, but you are quite literally too deep in the room at this point to stop them or argue back.

Despite knowing it is, in fact, a bedroom that belongs to you in a way, it feels odd to enter now. It’s no longer your territory, so to speak, so the fact that they are so willingly inviting you in means a lot.

Definitely wouldn’t be complaining if they were bringing me in here for other reasons either— you beat that thought back with a steel bat, cursing the horny monster that has recently taken up residence in the gutters of your brain.

Shoto comes to a stop at the foot of the bed and releases you, turning a critical eye to the mattress and all that sits atop it. The bed is roughly made with a fluffy comforter, and has a generous number of pillows scattered across the surface, including one in the shape of a peach. It looks wonderfully inviting, and you itch to be seated. Shoto wrinkles his nose, and you amend that observation; apparently something is lacking.

He holds your bicep with one hand and points at you with the other. “Stay here.”

You nod, amused, and watch as he leaves the room with cool, swift strides, face neutral. You have to close your eyes in order to summon the strength not to laugh.

His tail was wagging so fast it was practically a blur.

The two of them return at about the same time, Izuku with a suprise item (hot tea) and strip of tablets and Shoto with every single pillow you think you have ever owned piled up in his arms. You decide not to comment, and gratefully take Izukus offered goods as Shoto tears into the bed in an effort to get it ‘up to par’.

“Okay, it’s ready – get in.”

A few minutes later has you turning to take in Bed: Version 2.0. Your eyebrows shoot up at how he actually managed to fit most of the pillows on there while still making it look comfortable. Some pillows didn’t make the cut apparently, the peach one being one of them. That makes you kind of sad.

Shoto stands expectantly to the side, hand grasping the cover and keeping it pulled back for you. Izuku’s foot rapidly thumps on the floor before he is scurrying over to the other side and giving you a similar look of anticipation to his companion.

You can’t bite back the smile that breaks on your face as you follow their instructions and climb in, nestling right in the centre. Izuku dives in beside you, careful not to disrupt your drink on the bedside table, and winds his arm around you. The heat coming off them is incredibly pleasant, and you almost think you might not need a heat pack later after all.

Shoto pauses before climbing in, pointing at you with a tilt of his head. “Speak now if there is anything else you need to do, because I am feeling severely touch-starved and I don’t plan on stopping this cuddle session until at least one of us is asleep or three hours have passed.”

You snort, and his lips twitch. “I can’t guarantee I won’t have to get up at some point during that time but I otherwise agree to those terms.”

Shoto nods, apparently pleased with your cooperation and willingness to be a human teddy bear for the better part of the day, and proceeds to imitate Izuku by climbing into bed and clinging onto you like a koala.

“Excellent,” he rumbles, a pleased sound coming from his chest. “We have an alliance, then.”

Well, that’s what he said, but you can only pray he remembered agreeing to let you up when you need the bathroom later. Sleep Shoto is an entirely different breed.

The second the painkillers begin to kick in, you are drifting off to sleep again. Warmth, comfort and safety carry you into a dreamless slumber.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #shoto x reader #izuku x reader #shouto x reader #reader insert #hybrid au #hybrids #hybrid mha #hybrid shouto #hybrid shoto #hybrid izuku #hybrid bakugo #hybrid kirishima #fuck me i hate doing tags bro #hhhhhh #mha series #future smut #bnha series #x reader

[lilrobotman]

Hey trans mascs on HRT who are feeling hair loss p hard: rosemary oil may be a good option if you want to promote a bit of new growth and keep your hair nice and healthy. I've had decent results using it for about 4 months now, parts of my hair that were thinning have thickened back up a fair amount

There are a few studies showing that rosemary oil is about as effective as other hair loss treatments like here and here, but it's definitely a field needing more study, though I've seen plenty of testimonies from others backing up its efficiency (me included!)

Some things of note:

-Obviously I'm only speaking from personal experience and not everyone is the same! I can not speak to how effective this will be for you.

-Like with hair loss treatments, if you stop using it, your hair will return to its former state. However the great thing with rosemary oil is that it takes forever to go through a bottle. You only need 5-10 drops per application and you only need to use it a couple times a week. Most bottles of rosemary essential oil cost about 10 dollars, which I find to be a decent price considering how long it can last.

-Additionally, rosemary oil seems to only work on thickening up pre-existing and thinning hair, not make new hair (at least for me). My high peaks have hardly gained any new growth but what I do have has thickened up quite a bit.

If you want to try rosemary oil, please make sure to only use it 1-3 times a week and mix it with a shampoo or carrier oil (jojoba and coconut are good ones). Rosemary oil is really strong. Dont apply it to you bare scalp without diluting it a bit. Make sure you scrub it into your scalp for a couple minutes, and most importantly, be patient. Like many hair loss treatments, it takes about 4-6 months to really start seeing a change. I still suggest looking into more detailed application descriptions as applying it correctly is rather important, applying straight up rosemary oil to your hair will probably make things worse.

Additionally, these tips are coming from a white guy with cowlicks and stiff hair, if you're someone with a different hair texture, please make sure to research what others like you may have said about applying rosemary oil. Always use a carrier unless the product you get says otherwise!

DO NOT USE IT FOR BEARD GROWTH. The androgen, dihydrotestosterone (DHT), is what promotes male pattern baldness but it also promotes beard growth. Supposedly (and this is not a claim I have 100% verified as scientifically true but I've seen this explanation used quite frequently) rosemary oil helps block the production of DHT. So using it on your beard will likely not help it.

Please know this is a post with good intentions, I'm not trying to give anyone false hope. My hair loss really made me stressed and dropped my confidence a lot. Some hair loss medicines have been known to cause trans mascs to start their period again and their overall efficiency is flaky, so I didn't want to try any of them. Rosemary oil has been very helpful for me and it could be for you! The worst thing the oil can do is make your hair smell nice, even if it doesnt give you a lions mane. Just remember to be patient and do some research about applying before starting :]

#Eventually I will accept my hair is going and stop using it but for now this has been really helping my mental health #Long post #Hair care #Trans masc #Trans man #Hair loss #Transgender

[kyouka-supremacy]

Thoughts on akutagawa being drawn with no highlights in his eyes, hair, coat, or on rashomon,,,like everything is drawn pure black? I like when he's drawn a little bit like not-human--contrasts real well with Atsushi's dilemma of being a tiger, personally thinking. Also like when he's drawn like a void. Little bit like the cryptid creachur he is. I think you wrote something about it in the tags on panels in his introduction in the Manga. I like to think other characters also see him the way we see him so his void ass scares the fuck out of others too. Man's skeevin and tweakin even in his design

I'm OBSESSED with Akutagawa's design. Look at him. This is what he looks like on a white background:

And this is what he looks like on a black background:

It's BRILLIANT. He literally disappears in the black. He's the ultimate monster. In his appearance, he embodies what above all is most scary for the human psyche: the darkness, the unknown. The way Harukawa took advantage of the the art rule of never using pure black by breaking it in the most clever way! No light gets reflected on him, because his form absorbs everything– is absolute darkness. Visually, his figure itself is Rashomon eating everything it encounters, and it's genius.

He is so nightmare coded. I love his big, inscrutable eyes that look like two voids, two black holes. I love how oftentimes you can't tell where Rashomon ends and where he starts, I love how sick and unhealthy he looks. I love how he looks scruffy like an abandoned dog. I love how young he looks– way younger than he is. It gives the impression of a ghost, someone who was killed before growing up and is now stuck with his young appearance no matter how many centuries pass.

I adore everything about these chapter 33 pages. The way he initially appears as just a single black shape, hardly resembling a human. His crunched, unnatural stance. The staggering. The way you can feel with your senses the thick and sticky blood. The top picture is the left page of the manga, so just imagine the visual impact of turning the page to be hit with an almost full-black page- it's meant to impress, it's meant to shake. The way he's one with the darkness: no textures on him, only white making out his outlines. The way you can't tell where his coat ends. His left arm hanging numb, limp, lifeless, inhuman. The spurts of blood on his face. His smile, how you won't notice it at first and how that makes it all the more disquieting; its juxtaposition with the violence that surrounds him and that he is the cause of. The way he covers his face, the impressions of hiding and looming. His face being split, which only adds to the horror elements. Akutagawa's character design as a whole is an ode to the gothic and grotesque.

And then this. Hello??????????????? The progression from how Akutagawa used to be to the last time we saw him alive is astonishing. It's upsetting. It really makes me wanna cry from a technical execution standpoint alone (imagine from a plot related standpoint). All the black is now replaced with predominant white, everywhere. His shirt is white and candid and pure, emphasizing contrast with the splash of blood in a way that almost results sickening. The blood on him is his this time. His face looks rounder, and healthier, and he overall looks more mature. His smile is sincere and genuine, it's light, it's affectionate. This scene is the culmination of Akutagawa's character both visually and thematically: the monster, Akutagawa, too, can be good, and arguably had good within him since the very start. Does it really matter if he lives after this? His character already developed to be the best version of himself‚ and this panel here is the proof.

Further readings: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6)

#Sorry I blacked out and now it's been three hours #Don't kill me over the last line akdbfjksndjeks I love Akutagawa I swear #No wait I think I got it: Me 🤝 Atsushi → bullying Akutagawa as love language #ryūnosuke akutagawa #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd ch 04 #bsd ch 33 #bsd ch 88 #Me: I will NOT compare chapter 88 panel Akutagawa to an angel. That is NOT something I'm willing to do. #bsd analysis #people asks me stuff #Thank you for the ask!!! #Actually someone reblogged a post from me with a very clever addition about Akutagawa's physical appearance #I haven't gotten around to reblogging it yet because I wanted to take a good read to it but it was very clever!! #I'll try to reblog it as soon as possible #I also love how half the time his coat will just look like a gown. I adore it. #I love his heels. He does have a very feminine figure‚ in a way– especially in how thin / feeble he looks. #It's real fuel for my transmasc Akutagawa agenda #Back to Anon's words– I only have a very very vague memory of writing tags about this it must have been from a very old post?

[magic-the-girlbossing]

I've recently been cooking up a Rowan, Scion of War deck and one of the things that struck me while I was thinking about the way I wanted to win with the deck is how perfect Crackle with Power is as a wincon for her and the way that perfectly integrates her function in gameplay with her character and motivation in the Wilds of Eldraine story.

For a primer, here are the cards that I'm talking about:

Rowan, Scion of War taps to reduce the cost of all red or black spells you cast by X, where X is the amount of life you've lost this turn.

Crackle with Power is an X spell that deals five times X damage to each of up to X targets.

The synergy is obvious. Most of the time, a Crackle with Power that is sufficiently charged can instantly win you the game, and, provided you lose enough life to make it worth your while, Rowan can give the spell the power it needs.

Will and Rowan's conflict in Wilds of Eldraine come down to their views on power: both its meaning and the justification of its use. Will's power, at least in Rowan's perspective, is almost entirely ephemeral. He holds the crown — the position of High King — but to Rowan, this power isn't anything real. He hopes to be the figurehead: a king in name who brings together the divided world in a time of strife.

(Quotes below from Wilds of Eldraine Chapter 1 by K. Arsenault Rivera)

"The Realm needs a High King; I did what I had to do... We have to be careful about the impression we're making. People want to be united, and I want to unite them."

Rowan doesn't think he can do it. Rowan believes that the only form of power that people will respect is action; she sees Will's focus on unity as inaction.

"Let them be afraid. I doubt any of them will be raiding the countryside any time soon with the beating we gave them. I'd rather have a thousand brigands living in fear of me than a dozen farmers living in fear of brigands... "Our parents wouldn't ignore a curse that's spreading through the kingdom. Or is 'unity' going to solve the Wicked Slumber, too? And before you forget, our parents earned their titles. You just decided to call yourself High King because you thought it suited you."

She knows she has power — real power — and is frustrated that Will won't let her use it to address the problems at hand.

Rowan's intentions are good — or at least they adhere to a morality. She wants to prevent people, especially Will, from suffering, wants to end the Wicked Slumber, wants Eldraine to be at peace, but doesn't think that any of this can happen if she is unable to utilize her full power. She feels the incessant need to take action, to demonstrate power, to invoke fear and hurt to attain the good that she seeks.

Crackle with Power demonstrates the pinnacle of this philosophy in Rowan's experience. It represents an action she took on impulse, pushing herself through fear and pain, yet still fueled by her own righteousness.

(Quotes below from Strixhaven Chapter 5 by Adana Washington)

Rowan felt a cold anger rising from somewhere inside her—rage, overwhelming the fear and the pain. She couldn't win, but she could hurt the one who did this... The Snarl hung in the air, still brilliant, even in crimson. Still rippling with power. Rowan took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and reached out.

And when she reached into The Snarl, took its power with the goal of bringing punishment upon those that would cause her and her brother harm, it was incredible.

She felt the power rushing through her, power like she had never dreamed. It felt, in that moment, that she could do anything; mountains would crumble before her, cities burn, oceans boil. She hardly noticed as her feet left the ground, wind swirling as if the air itself feared her. And it should, thought Rowan. Everything should.

This moment may not be the beginning of this pattern of thought for Rowan but it is a very pronounced one. She seized power when it was available, and took action when it was most needed, and the result was that she got exactly what she wanted. It's no wonder that after that she would hope to do it again.

And so Rowan leaves Will behind to go on her own journey: an angry, impulsive journey that sees her tempted to become the thing she swore she would destroy, only for the hope that she could once again use her power. For the greater good. At any cos.

Crackle with Power sees Rowan acting impulsively, with cruelty, with anger, to do something that she feels is right. In its mechanics, Rowan, Scion of War sees this moment and says "this is what I need to do, and I will pay anything to make sure I can do it."

#magic: the gathering #magic the girlbossing #rowan kenrith #girlboss #vorthos #ludonarrative #mtg ludonarrative #ive been thinking about this since the card released to be clear #rowan is a number 1 blorbo for me #woe story pushed her into easily top 5 favorite magic characters for me #and im only a little ashamed to admit that

[nogacheloveka-blog]

The Bad Sanses somehow ended up in the Backrooms. №12

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This is the translation of the another post from Russian to English. I understand English, but it is very difficult for me to write in English, so I asked chat GPT to help me. I have corrected some parts, but there still may be mistakes.

I thought the inspiration had run out, but no! I am so glad about this fact! Glad that I have the strength to continue drawing and writing the story.

At work, I often have to work overtime, so after the shift, there is only time to eat and sleep. There is hardly any time for researching the wiki and drawing. It doesn't sound very good, but the work itself is not difficult, and I will have money to live 🤷‍♀️

I have read quite a few levels recently. I see that a lot has changed since the last time I was interested in this topic.

I continue my experiment with marking the test from the perspective of different characters =)

Level 5 was not bad. In the sense that it was still a place of indefinite size with a random set of rooms. But they were all getting used to liminal spaces, and the elegant expensive furniture and designer interiors pleased the eye. Especially after the faceless rooms of the previous levels. The only thing that was not pleasing was the presence of people nearby. They were not visible, but the mere thought of them did not allow relaxation.

🌙 For Nightmare, this place was valuable as the first convenient crossroads level. He also hoped to meet the Society of the Lost Hall, as mentioned in the knowledge base. This meeting could bring interesting information if Nightmare could interest them in something. But at the same time, he did not want to encounter the local devil. This meeting did not bode well for his wards. It remained to be hoped that the creature only visited semi-mad loners (Nightmare looked at the thread that made his team part of Error in the eyes of the Backrooms, and calculated the overall level of sanity that resulted. The result was not dismal. He had everything under control).

It also became evident that this world leaves its mark on his wards. They changed in the same way as Nightmare. Gradually. Almost imperceptibly. He tried to ensure that this did not harm their common goal. Indeed, in Dust's case, these changes turned out to be positive and did not cause concern (Nightmare feared that Dust might return to babbling with hallucinations). Moreover, Deathmoth met often and was intelligent enough to slightly fuel Nightmare's negativity. Insects did not possess strong emotions, but they were easily provoked by external influences.

🦴Dast felt a strong fatigue and fell asleep the moment he sat in one of the comfortable soft chairs. The insects snuffling under his clothes no longer bothered him at all, and the tickle of their legs became pleasant and comforting. Butterflies peacefully floated above his head, flying into his skull like dreams.

Rest had a good effect on his morale, awakening hunger. Dust realized how irregularly he had been eating. This explained his profound exhaustion and weakness. Due to stress, he had not been listening to his body's needs and had been hungry for quite a while.

Horror generously made him a sandwich, and Killer (who also had a sandwich in his hands) shared a handful of sweet Flowey Seeds. Dust hadn't felt this good in a long time. But looking at the Almond Water still made him nauseous. He drank very little, giving the remaining liquid to Deathmoth, who followed him in a pack.

The fur at the base of moth wings resembled cat fur. Dust indulged himself in running his fingers carefully over it.

⛔Error decided to delve into studying the code surrounding him. If on the early levels the code didn't seem too complex (was it a warm-up?), now it seemed that some parts became inaccessible to him: links led to empty memory cells, variable values were taken from nowhere and unpredictable changed within loops (it didn't look functional). Understanding what was happening became more difficult. It required focus.

Engrossed, Error didn't immediately notice the danger. At first, it seemed as if someone had touched him. He was already preparing to erupt in anger when he realized that no one was nearby. It wasn't "Someone," but "Something." Another strange impulse passed through space, brushing against the scattered blue strings in the surrounding area. Nightmare seemed to have felt it too, judging by the ripples on his liquid covering and his wary gaze. Error sent more strings around the room (he snapped at the others' attempts to find out what he was doing. The group immediately became wary, and Horror woke up Cross), trying to gather more data on the vector of this impulse. It felt like a growing wind, but it didn't interact directly with objects. The same sensation can be felt during a rapid descent. A tickling sensation in the gut.

When he opened the code editor, something strange was happening with the coordinates (not that these constants were in order before). Right before his eyes, an unknown programmer was creating a loop to calculate the equation for... Wow. Right now, another space was passing through their room. Or rather, not even the room, but one of the points on its plane. Like an infinite silk scarf through a small silver ring. And this point was moving, expanding, as if an invisible tornado (actually an invitation). Theoretically, this should move everything it touches to another place, but the objects in level 5 space remained in place. Several blue strings snapped.

Before Error could warn the others about the danger (you're exaggerating), he fell into a ...0%...

🪓Horror saw Error go into a reboot, typical for transitioning to another level, and managed to grab onto his black jacket. Then his damaged skull rang from hitting the white floor. The Destroyer crashed into his chest a moment later. Cross screamed in surprise nearby, and Dust cursed. Killer behaved fairly quietly, although something loudly cracked after his fall (it's not bones, is it? God, please, no). Horror tried to turn his head to check, but shut down.

⚔️ Cross, perhaps for the first time during his entire stay in the Backrooms, managed to find a comfortable place to sleep. Previously, he always had to sleep on the bare floor or leaning against Horror's massive figure, which was warm and didn't mind frequent tactile contact.

When his rest was interrupted, he had too little time to grasp the situation. He noticed the tense Nightmare and Horror next to Error. In the next second, something seemed to drag him through a bottle neck (the short path felt similar). He plummeted down like a cannonball.

Cross gathered himself and thanks to this, landed on his feet. In contrast to the rest of the group.

Horror fell quite awkwardly, pinned down by the unconscious Error. Cross hurried to drag the Destroyer away and inspect his friend. But everything seemed fine, no serious injuries. His damaged skull hadn't shattered further, even his HP was almost full, just a couple of scratches and bruises. Cross turned to see the others.

Nightmare was found in the distance, looking disoriented. His outlines seemed blurry, and he slumped against the wall (is he in pain?). But as soon as the Keeper of Negativity caught someone else's gaze, he straightened up and quickly assumed a composed demeanor.

🔪Killer fell onto one of the Deathmoths accompanying Dust. Its chitinous wings cracked loudly and finally detached, with several legs bent in the opposite direction. The insect thrashed in agony, and there was little that could help it. The skeleton itself was unharmed and contemplatively watched its "safety cushion." Dust tensely froze, watching the injured butterfly. But before he could come to any decision, the Killer's knife plunged into the Deathmoth, instantly ending its suffering.

Dust was definitely ready to kill him (too bad he held back). Well, that will make the Killer's life more interesting until Dusty cools down. It used to be difficult to provoke him into a fight, but if the lives of a couple of butterflies allow him to capture his attention... the Killer will consider this option in the future. It's interesting, will their group find any more Strange equipment? That would be nice. It seems these items allow for some amusing tricks.

Nevertheless, Dust took the lifeless body of the insect. Was he going to bury it?

---

The group allowed themselves to stay in place until all of them regained consciousness, and then moved forward. Mostly, they encountered empty white corridors with occasional locked passages leading to laboratories and production areas. According to the records, they were on level 15. And it was unpleasant. There were no clear exits on this level, and the way they got here was hard to describe as... reproducible. Seriously, what the hell?

One of the laboratories was open. Inside, there was futuristic medical equipment that Dust immediately tried to use. Surprisingly, it worked! The dead insect came back to life, but its coloration changed (these colors triggered unpleasant memories).

The next significant event was the appearance of a human.

Nightmare belongs to Jokublog Killer belongs to RahafWabas Dust belongs to Ask-DustTale Horror belongs to Sour-Apple-Studios Error belongs to CrayonQueen Cross belongs to JakeiArtwork

#bad sanses #cross sans #dust sans #error sans #horror sans #killer sans #nightmare sans #the backrooms #au #undertale au #bad guys in backrooms #bad sans gang #art #undertale #utmv #level 15

[kerakitty]

Adam’s Creation and Appearance

So there’s a lot of nitpicking surrounding how Victor made Adam and how Adam should be portrayed as a result of that (e.g. should he have stitches, varying skin color, etc). I find this kinda weird because we don’t actually know how Adam was made. Victor intentionally omits this information when telling his story to Robert Walton for fear of someone managing to reproduce his work.(1)

We do have a few, scant details, but they’re hardly enough to draw any solid conclusions from. Here’s a list of all the facts given about his creation (relevant quotes with page numbers at bottom of post):

Making Adam big allowed Victor to work faster.(2)

It took Victor months to gather the materials he needed.(3)

Some materials were gathered from dissecting rooms, charnal houses, and slaughter-houses.(4)

Victor was able to choose Adam’s features (e.g. hair color and texture, tooth alignment).(5)

The whole process, both gathering materials and actual construction, took a little under two years.(6)

That’s it. That’s all we know. We don’t know how these “materials” were used, we don’t know what caused them to go from inanimate to living, or even what exactly they were. Yes, Victor mentions collecting his materials from the places listed above, but aside from mentioning bones(4), he doesn’t say what exactly he was taking. Were they intact organs? Pieces of tissue? Entire limbs? We don’t know. Confusing things further, Victor mentions that he “dabbled” with graves and “tortured living animals”(7), but doesn’t clarify whether these were additional sources of materials or simply research into the mechanisms of life and death.

General consensus seems to be that Victor used organs and whole body parts from cadavers to create Adam, but there's plenty of evidence that that’s not the case. Aside from the fact that it would’ve been difficult to create an 8ft tall body with proportional limbs out of pieces of humans averaging under 6ft, there are a few lines in the novel that indicate that this wasn’t Victor’s method. Victor consistently refers to the materials he used as “lifeless” and “inanimate”, but never dead. He also consistently speaks of imbuing new life into the materials rather than renewing or restoring life. In fact he outright states that reanimating the dead was, as best as he could figure, impossible.(8) Whether this only refers to raising a dead individual as they’d been in life or to any organic tissue is, like so much of Victor’s research, extremely vague.

So where does that leave us in terms of Adam’s appearance? Well, with not a whole lot to go on. Does he have stitches? Maybe. Does his skin color vary? Also maybe, though probably not given that Victor describes his skin and makes no mention of any variation in tone.(9)

The closest thing we have to a canon appearance for him is probably the illustration included in the 1831 edition of the novel.

There’s no stitches or other scars visible here, but since we have no idea how much (if any) input Shelley herself had on this design, that’s not necessarily confirmation one way or the other.

Ultimately, aside from a handful of details, we don’t really know what Adam should look like. We know he has thick black hair, watery yellowish eyes, yellower skin, straight white teeth, thin black lips, and is 8ft tall with all features proportional to that size.(9) Outside of that, and the fact that he looked ugly but not horrifying right up until he started moving(10), it’s up to the reader’s imagination. And given that the novel was intended to be a horror story, I suspect that’s intentional. In horror it’s often our imaginations that supply the most frightening imagery and any good creator of horror is aware of this fact.

So portray Adam however you want, and maybe don’t nitpick other people’s portrayals of him. So long as neither of you are going against the few explicitly described details the novel provides, they’re probably not any more off the mark than you are.

Source quotes and page numbers below the cut.

All quotes and page numbers are taken from this upload of the 1818 text.

”I see by your eagerness, and the wonder and hope which your eyes express, my friend, that you expect to be informed of the secret with which I am acquainted; that cannot be. ...I will not lead you on... to your destruction and infallible misery” pg 23

”As the minuteness of the parts formed a great hindrance to my speed, I resolved... to make the being of a gigantic stature;” pg 24

“...having spent some months in successfully collecting and arranging my materials...” pg 24

“I collected bones from charnel houses... The dissecting room and the slaughter-house furnished many of my materials;” pg 24

“I had selected his features as beautiful.” pg 26

“I had worked hard for nearly two years...” pg 26

“...I dabbled among the unhallowed damps of the grave, or tortured the living animal to animate the lifeless clay[.]” pg 24

“...if I could bestow animation upon lifeless matter, I might in process of time (although I now found it impossible) renew life where death had apparently devoted the body to corruption.” pg 24

“His limbs were in proportion, and... [h]is yellow skin scarcely covered the work of muscles and arteries beneath; his hair was of a lustrous black, and flowing; his teeth of a pearly whiteness; but these luxuriances only formed a more horrid contrast with his watery eyes, that seemed almost of the same colour as the dun white sockets in which they were set, his shrivelled complexion, and straight black lips.” pg 26

“I had gazed on him while unfinished; he was ugly then; but when those muscles and joints were rendered capable of motion, it became a thing such as even Dante could not have conceived.” pg 27

Side note on that last line: I always felt Victor was rather underselling the creativity of Dante here. Dante came up with some trippy shit. I doubt the Uncanny Valley was something of which he “could not have conceived”.

#frankenstein #frankenstein or the modern prometheus #the modern prometheus #adam frankenstein #frankenstein's creature #frankenstein's creation #frankenstein's monster #victor frankenstein #mary shelley #gothic literature

[sweet-evie]

More SaShiSu headcanons because I'm crazy and suffering from extreme brain rot. 🥴

At every Goodwill event they've joined in... The unspoken rule is: Don't mess with Shoko. Mess with Shoko, you either risk getting blasted across the forest or plagued by pesky curses.

SaShiSu has definitely tried their hand out at knitting or cross-stitching at some point. It was part of Yaga's lesson plan at the beginning of the school year.

10 years later, Satoru has a mountain of arcade tickets he has yet to exchange. Tickets won by the 3 of them. He can never do it anymore because it's been a decade and the arcade they used to go to is now closed. 😔

SaShiSu played hide-and-seek once or twice. ➼ Gojo always won because he cheated. He has Six Eyes and he can teleport. He leaves his hiding spot whenever Suguru or Shoko get close. ➼ Suguru and Shoko definitely know. The third time they played, Suguru just left behind a bunch of traps made of curses to annoy him. It hardly worked, and one of them got Yaga accidentally. ➼ End result: SaShiSu at detention.

SaShiSu used to watch Digimon reruns on the weekend mornings. Gojo begged them once and it turned into their thing.

SaShiSu played a lot of Mario. Suguru insisted.

Shoko secretly played the Sims 2 and made Suguru and Satoru in-game. She made them do questionable things. Sim Satoru was abducted and impregnated by aliens at some point.

SaShiSu played a three-way Yu-Gi-Oh Duel Monsters game once. ➼ Satoru's deck is a mix-match and he kept bragging that he had all 3 Blue Eyes White Dragons. (Let's be honest, he just copied Kaiba's deck from Battle City). ➼ Shoko took out a chunk of Suguru's and Satoru's life points with a potent spellcaster-deck. ➼ They stopped playing because Satoru realized that Suguru put together an Exodia-themed deck and all that time, Suguru bided his time and kept drawing cards and discarding them to the graveyard, so he could eventually collect all 5 pieces of Exodia. ➼ They wish they had duel disks though.

They definitely went hunting for Duel Disks at kids' toy stores around Tokyo at Shoko's insistence. Satoru and Suguru indulge her.

SaShiSu played a lot of board games and other card games too. ➼ They put together a money pool. Winner takes all. ➼ For some reason, Suguru liked the randomness of Chutes & Ladders. He also has a thing for Chess. Satoru doesn't have the patience for chess. Suguru's also good at Checkers and Backgammon. ➼ Shoko wins at Uno, Poker, and Scrabble. ➼ Satoru is a monster at Monopoly. They use Satoru's real money in Monopoly btw, because rich boy doesn't mind squandering his parents' finances on the games they'd play 💴. He ends up buying more than half of the properties on the board in every game. Capitalist whore.

SaShiSu definitely played with a Ouija board more than once. ➼ It doesn't work inside campus... because Tengen's barrier, so Satoru and Suguru always find the most gnarly and "haunted" places around the city to fuck around with the Ouija board. ➼ They bring Shoko with them. ➼ Ouija board sessions always end in fits of giggles, Satoru making fun of the curses or vengeful spirits they'd attract or summon, Suguru eating the curses that were hostile, and Shoko being amused at the utter ridiculousness of the situation. ➼ One or two spirits actually willingly left after being summoned because even in death, no one wants to deal with a teenage Satoru Gojo.

On that note, Satoru definitely found paranormal games on the internet and tried them out with Suguru and Shoko.

They may or may not have lit fireworks inside abandoned warehouses in an attempt to exorcise the curse through noise pollution. Why? Eh, just because. Most of the time, you don't need a reason do to shit when you're young and you feel like you're on top of the world. Naïve little shits. Shoko is the only sensible one istg.

Satoru stole a removable stone statue in Jujutsu Tech once after Suguru jokingly dared him to do it. ➼ He hid it in one of the decoy pagodas around the school. ➼ He runs over to tell Suguru like, "SUGURU SUGURU SUGURU, I did the dare!" ➼ And Suguru is like, "WTF?" ➼ Needless to say, they got in trouble for it because they told Shoko and didn't see Yaga hanging around close by. Idiots... 🙄😁

#jujutsu kaisen #sashisu #headcanons #jjk #jjk s2 #jjk season 2 #i love this trio so much #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #suguru geto #geto suguru #shoko ieiri #ieiri shoko #wbad blog #wbad shit posts