#no one in the show has ever had the brain cell

[spittyfishy]

I’ve wanted to make this since Heroes Day first aired lol, it would literally be so simple

#this show can be fun but it’s also so dumb lol #can’t believe I’ve been watching it for like six years #no one in the show has ever had the brain cell #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #adrian agreste #chat noir #hawkmoth #gabriel agreste #puppeteer #manon mlb #nathaniel kurtzberg #manon chamack #evillustrator #akumas #mlb #mlb villains #miraculous ladybug art

[cocklessboy]

The biggest male privilege I have so far encountered is going to the doctor.

I lived as a woman for 35 years. I have a lifetime of chronic health issues including chronic pain, chronic fatigue, respiratory issues, and neurodivergence (autistic + ADHD). There's so much wrong with my body and brain that I have never dared to make a single list of it to show a doctor because I was so sure I would be sent directly to a psychologist specializing in hypochondria (sorry, "anxiety") without getting a single test done.

And I was right. Anytime I ever tried to bring up even one of my health issues, every doctor's initial reaction was, at best, to look at me with doubt. A raised eyebrow. A seemingly casual, offhand question about whether I'd ever been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. Even female doctors!

We're not talking about super rare symptoms here either. Joint pain. Chronic joint pain since I was about 19 years old. Back pain. Trouble breathing. Allergy-like reactions to things that aren't typically allergens. Headaches. Brain fog. Severe insomnia. Sensitivity to cold and heat.

There's a lot more going on than that, but those were the things I thought I might be able to at least get some acknowledgement of. Some tests, at least. But 90% of the time I was told to go home, rest, take a few days off work, take some benzos (which they'd throw at me without hesitation), just chill out a bit, you'll be fine. Anxiety can cause all kinds of odd symptoms.

Anyone female-presenting reading this is surely nodding along. Yup, that's just how doctors are.

Except...

I started transitioning about 2.5 years ago. At this point I have a beard, male pattern baldness, a deep voice, and a flat chest. All of my doctors know that I'm trans because I still haven't managed to get all the paperwork legally changed, but when they look at me, even if they knew me as female at first, they see a man.

I knew men didn't face the same hurdles when it came to health care, but I had no idea it was this different.

The last time I saw my GP (a man, fairly young, 30s or so), I mentioned chronic pain, and he was concerned to see that it wasn't represented in my file. Previous doctors hadn't even bothered to write it down. He pushed his next appointment back to spend nearly an hour with me going through my entire body while I described every type of chronic pain I had, how long I'd had it, what causes I was aware of. He asked me if I had any theories as to why I had so much pain and looked at me with concerned expectation, hoping I might have a starting point for him. He immediately drew up referrals for pain specialists (a profession I didn't even know existed till that moment) and physical therapy. He said depending on how it goes, he may need to help me get on some degree of disability assistance from the government, since I obviously shouldn't be trying to work full-time under these circumstances.

Never a glimmer of doubt in his eye. Never did he so much as mention the word "anxiety".

There's also my psychiatrist. He diagnosed me with ADHD last year (meeting me as a man from the start, though he knew I was trans). He never doubted my symptoms or medical history. He also took my pain and sleep issues seriously from the start and has been trying to help me find medications to help both those things while I go through the long process of seeing other specialists. I've had bad reactions to almost everything I've tried, because that's what always happens. Sometimes it seems like I'm allergic to the whole world.

And then, just a few days ago, the most shocking thing happened. I'd been wondering for a while if I might have a mast cell condition like MCAS, having read a lot of informative posts by @thebibliosphere which sounded a little too relatable. Another friend suggested it might explain some of my problems, so I decided to mention it to the psychiatrist, fully prepared to laugh it off. Yeah, a friend thinks I might have it, I'm not convinced though.

His response? That's an interesting theory. It would be difficult to test for especially in this country, but that's no reason not to try treatments and see if they are helpful. He adjusted his medication recommendations immediately based on this suggestion. He's researching an elimination diet to diagnose my food sensitivities.

I casually mentioned MCAS, something routinely dismissed by doctors with female patients, and he instantly took the possibility seriously.

That's it. I've reached peak male privilege. There is nothing else that could happen that could be more insane than that.

I literally keep having to hold myself back from apologizing or hedging or trying to frame my theories as someone else's idea lest I be dismissed as a hypochondriac. I told the doctor I'd like to make a big list of every health issue I have, diagnosed and undiagnosed, every theory I've been given or come up with myself, and every medication I've tried and my reactions to it - something I've never done because I knew for a fact no doctor would take me seriously if they saw such a list all at once. He said it was a good idea and could be very helpful.

Female-presenting people are of course not going to be surprised by any of this, but in my experience, male-presenting people often are. When you've never had a doctor scoff at you, laugh at you, literally say "I won't consider that possibility until you've been cleared by a psychologist" for the most mundane of health problems, it might be hard to imagine just how demoralizing it is. How scary it becomes going to the doctor. How you can internalize the idea that you're just imagining things, making a big deal out of nothing.

Now that I'm visibly a man, all of my doctors are suddenly very concerned about the fact that I've been simply living like this for nearly four decades with no help. And I know how many women will have to go their whole lives never getting that help simply because of sexism in the medical field.

If you know a doctor, show them this story. Even if they are female. Even if they consider themselves leftists and feminists and allies. Ask them to really, truly, deep down, consider whether they really treat their male and female patients the same. Suggest that the next time they hear a valid complaint from a male patient, imagine they were a woman and consider whether you'd take it seriously. The next time they hear a frivolous-sounding complaint from a female patient, imagine they were a man and consider whether it would sound more credible.

It's hard to unlearn these biases. But it simply has to be done. I've lived both sides of this issue. And every doctor insists they treat their male and female patients the same. But some of the doctors astonished that I didn't get better care in the past are the same doctors who dismissed me before.

I'm glad I'm getting the care I need, even if it is several decades late. And I'm angry that it took so long. And I'm furious that most female-presenting people will never have this chance.

#transgender #queer #transmasc #lgbtqia+ #trans man #sexism #medical sexism #feminism #male privilege

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。the dictionary definition of a rich boy

synopsis. that rich guy who won’t stop asking you out is your partner for this project—send help

contents. pre dating rich boy! gojo, college! au, implications of a zenin being pushy on the first date, satoru being distraught you went on a date lol, pre relationship shenanigans with the cutest loser boy !!

word count. 3.8k (it’s literally all just him being a handful)

notes. thank you niku my most cherished gojo stan for comming this (and giving me the most ridiculous tip) i adore you so much :,) mwah 💋

he’s late—gojo is late. in fact, he’s very late, by forty-five minutes and thirty-two seconds to be exact. you aren’t really the count-by-the-second type of person, but somehow when it comes to that irritating, smug, too-talkative brat that you’re stuck with…well, you can’t help but be petty and use the seconds against him too.

he shows up close to an hour after your agreed time, waltzing in with a grin on his face—and, oh, you should kill him. he has the audacity to send you a wink when he walks over, coming up to your table and pushing his sunglasses down his nose just a bit to look you in the eyes over the lenses. 

what kind of person wears sunglasses indoors? surely only the kind that are nothing but trouble.

“aw, you’re here already,” gojo hums, “that excited to see me?”

“you’re late,” you spit.

“am i? i could have sworn—”

“now it’ll get dark by the time we get through what we planned for today,” you glare. he looks enthused, positively delighted by the statement—it’s almost as if you’ve offered him candy. 

“well, then i’ll just have to walk you to your apartment,” he offers smoothly. 

what a jackass. of course, just as expected, he’s still attempting to worm his way into your personal life (and likely your pants) in the most obnoxious of ways. over your dead body, however, will you ever allow him to know where you live, let alone accompany you on the way. you value your sanity, and having a conversation with gojo satoru longer than you absolutely have to seems like the most efficient way to fry every nerve and brain cell you have left.

“absolutely not,” you grit, “you can call me an uber. you pay.”

“alright,” he nods, “i’ll get an uber for you. but i’ll need your number to make sure you made it home safe. otherwise, what kind of partner would i be?”

typically, any normal pair of partners are meant to exchange numbers for a project—it would be the easiest form of communication, and more importantly, you can spam call if gojo decides not to carry his weight instead of just hoping and praying he checks his socials. but you can’t let him have your number—he’s not trustworthy enough for that. the last thing you need is him bombarding you with texts, or worse: calls, in the middle of work and class. so instead, you strictly inform him that any and all communication will occur via social media.

he pouts at that—it’s a cute pout, you have to admit. it’s slightly dangerous, too, because had you not had the self-control you do, you might have caved. but then he lights up at the prospect of you adding him back on socials. 

i’ll get your number one of these days, he says confidently. his confidence is as aggravating as the way he clicks his pen in the middle of class. he still chooses to sit right beside you despite all the free and very available seats the entirety of the lecture hall has. 

but no, he insists on sitting right next to you—and you? well, you have to hope you don’t get charged with homicide by the end of every class from the constant clicking he makes you endure. despite all that, gojo is surprisingly smart, which means your project might not be so doomed. 

he’s annoyingly smart, actually—he never takes notes, and just when you think the professor has him cornered by asking him a question when he’s seemingly dozing off, he answers immediately with the correct answer. 

you hate him.

“absolutely not happening,” you grumble, opening your laptop, “anyway i think we should start with—”

“well, i hate to inform you,” he sighs sadly as if it genuinely pains him to say this, “but i’ve actually deleted all my socials.”

“what?” your eye twitches.

“yeah,” he nods, “it’s a bit of a cleanse if you will. staring at your screen all day and finding value in fake posts is not good for mental health, you know? i’m trying to be more in tune with myself. it’s been a real self-journey.”

before the end of this project, you might either be a college dropout or an inmate at the county jail. you’re not sure, either is equally as possible.

“gojo satoru, i am sick of your games,” you spit, “we both know—”

“and i would hate not being in touch with my partner since it’s a crucial part of this project for us to work together,” he hums, something of a smug look plastered on his aggravatingly gorgeous face, “that thirty percent deduction for ineffective partner communication would be such a shame to get when we’re working so hard already on this, wouldn’t you agree?”

is he threatening you? for your number? with your grade? he is, you realize—and you clench your fist tightly around the phone in your hands as he eyes it with a knowing look on his face. he has you right where he wants you, whether you like it or not.

“you’re an asshole,” you spit.

“i’m a mental health advocate,” he gasps—he has the nerve to act offended, even as he’s so obviously enjoying working you up like this. you wish he’d drop dead immediately. maybe you could take his card from his wallet as his cold body lays lifeless on the table and order yourself a new laptop if he did—that would be ideal. 

“i saw you post on your story last night—”

“you didn’t watch it,” he pouts, “i posted a shirtless gym selfie just for you—wait a second, you pay attention to my story, huh?” he cuts himself off with a smirk, wiggling his eyebrows at you, “c’mon, you don’t have to force yourself to skip them. you know you wanna watch them.”

“no, i don’t,” you seethe, “it was just the first one at the top. stop being self-important—”

“anyway,” he drawls, eyeing your phone again. you want to splash your coffee in his face. “i’ll need your number,” he sniffs, “the crushing disappointment of you skipping my story made me realize i’m too focused on getting social media validation, so i’m taking a break. it’s the best thing for me to do in my headspace right now. hope you understand.”

“are you kidding me?” you stare at him. he grins before shaking his head.

“i would never joke about mental health,” he says seriously—it’s not as serious as your desire to slap him, however.

“fine,” you take a long, slow sip of your coffee to calm down, “give me your phone.”

“oh, you’re gonna set your own contact?” he brightens, immediately handing you his phone. it’s brand new—the newest model, in fact. it’s barely been a few days since it dropped. truthfully, you’re not even sure why you’re shocked—of course, he, of all people, would upgrade immediately. “how intimate,” he gushes, “it’s almost like we’re going on a date—”

“do not text me outside of project purposes,” you interrupt, thrusting the phone back into his hands, “got it?”

“you got it,” he grins triumphantly.

—————

like all things he does, gojo finds a roundabout way to keep his word without actually keeping it. it’s his secret talent, you think—finding loopholes through all the technicalities of things.

hey when ur free can u read over my portion? i just finished

btw r u going to that frat party this wknd? u don’t seem the party type haha but u should come 

i’ll introduce u to suguru! he’s my best friend he’s super nice u’ll like him

oh and when do u wanna meet this week? promise i’ll be on time this time ;)

you make sure to only respond to the questions regarding your project—just because he technically kept his word and started the conversation centered around the project before getting off topic doesn’t mean you have to indulge him. and the way he types is infuriatingly annoying—who shortens every possible word like that? only him, you think.

okay, maybe you’re just nitpicking now, but every time you see his name pop up on your screen, your mood sours tenfold. you decide to answer as dryly as possible.

k i’ll look. we meet same time as last.

the period at the end should add the perfect touch—you grin to yourself in pride at that one. instantly, bubbles pop up and indicate he’s typing again. your smile very quickly drops.

wow ur a rly dry texter aren’t u?

that’s ok i don’t judge

so how bout the party? 

i can be ur escort ;) 

it’ll be fun!

from his side of the screen, gojo watches as your contact shows notifications silenced at the bottom. he pouts to himself—no party, then, he thinks.

—————

gojo satoru, the guy who seemingly has everything he could ever want, likes you. 

frankly, he’s not really sure why—at first, he finds you mildly amusing, and he thinks it’d be fun to have a short fling with you perhaps. somewhere along the line, however, that changes. he watches you dedicatedly take notes in class, no matter how tired you seem from work the night before. he notices the way you chew on your bottom lip when you’re really focused—it’s actually very cute, he thinks. and he’s entertained by the way you always have some smart little retort waiting on your tongue. you’re not boring—and more than anything, you leave him a little humbled. it’s refreshing, and he kind of likes it, if he’s being completely honest.

he’s never liked anyone before—it’s a weird feeling. at best, he’s had a crush where he could appreciate that someone is generally pleasing to the eye and has a personality that might mesh well with his, but he’s never yearned for someone before. 

it just so happens to be his luck that the same person he wants more than anything in the entire world (for the first time ever, too) seems to hate his guts. it also happens to be that the same person he wants more than anything is currently getting asked out by some kid from the zenin family. right in front of him. and you’re saying yes. 

why on earth would you say yes to a zenin of all people? don’t you value yourself? 

gojo can admit that he’s had his fair share of heart robbing and tear inducing moments—he’s not exactly someone with the best track record for commitment, but at least he doesn’t use people for his own benefit. plus, he does, in fact, actually plan on committing to you. that zenin boy most certainly can’t be any good news if he’s anything like naoya, who gojo has met on a multitude of occasions, and knows very well is a scoundrel of a guy. 

“see you at nine?” he hears the zenin (what was his name again?) ask you. you nod, smiling sweetly. 

why don’t you smile sweetly at him like that? he buys you coffee every week. sure, he only gets to buy you the coffee because you have no choice but to meet him for the project, but he even offers to get you a slice of cake—you don’t ever accept, though, so he ends up eating both. but you do like coffee, very strong coffee that’s probably not sweet enough for his liking, but you enjoy the coffee he buys you nonetheless, and that has to count for something.

“sure, see you at nine,” you hum.

gojo watches in absolute shock (and abject horror) as you look down shyly. as soon as the zenin boy walks away, he stomps up to you.

“hey, what gives?” he asks petulantly, making your face paint on that irritated look that it always seems to adopt when he’s in the vicinity—how rude.

“what do you mean?” you ask tiredly, “i don’t speak toddler, so please use your words—”

“why’d you say yes to that zenin boy—”

“he has a name. it’s—”

“who cares what his name is? he’s an asshole! he won’t treat you right even if his mother’s life is on the line—”

“oh, and you would?” you raise an eyebrow, glaring at him. how is it his place to tell you who’d treat you right and who wouldn’t? how is it his place to even care?

“i would,” he gasps at the accusation, “you’d date a zenin but not me? how come?”

“because you’re annoying,” you counter like it’s obvious.

okay, now that is technically fair—gojo has heard his fair share of you’re annoying’s from people in his life. in fact, a good amount of them come from his own mother, but he’s also dashingly handsome, very good in bed, has soft hair, is tall and muscular, can buy you whatever you like, and can be smart and funny too if you really don’t care for those kinds of things. he’s the entire package and more. and more importantly, he’s not from the zenin family, and that automatically means you’ll actually be treated with an ounce of respect.

he looks at you incredulously, feelings a little hurt. “that’s not true! name one annoying thing i’ve done—”

“you laughed in the middle of me speaking in class.”

“that wasn’t at you! suguru showed me something funny on his phone—”

“and you took like twenty minutes in line ordering the most sweetest drink on the menu while i was running late—”

“you can’t use that against me, that’s not fair! i’m a paying customer, i should be able to get whatever i want. plus, it’s technically not my fault you were late.”

“you rubbed in the fact that you had a black card.”

“you mentioned it first!”

“you were late to our first meeting for the project.”

“okay, that was an honest mistake! people are allowed to make those, you know—”

“i don’t want to go out with you,” you say frustratedly, “and it’s really annoying when you act like a spoiled brat that can’t handle the word no and keep on insisting, okay? so leave me alone unless it’s to discuss our project—which weighs fifty-five percent of our grade, by the way, so don’t even think about getting lazy.”

he is not lazy, he wants to argue.

but before he can, you roll your eyes and take a step to walk around him, leaving him there to blink in shock. okay, he thinks with a huff, so you’re playing hard to get. that’s no matter, he’s good at the chase anyway. 

—————

the date doesn’t seem to have gone well. gojo can tell because your eyes are slightly red and puffy, and you’re extra grouchy today in class. your professor seems to have noticed, too, because instead of calling on you today, she calls on gojo extra as a rare show of mercy. 

gojo doesn’t mind—this class is surprisingly easy, and he’s bored half the time anyway. he might as well indulge the uptight professor in an ugly brown pencil skirt and answer her pretentious questions that aren’t as complex as she thinks they are. 

“so,” he finally breaks the silence, “how was your date—”

“if you’re looking for a chance to say i told you so, just get it over with, you jerk,” you grumble. he raises his eyebrows in surprise before both hands go up in surrender.

“i wasn’t,” he says genuinely, “you just…uh…you look upset, is all.”

you hesitate for a short second, gauging his sincerity for a moment before sighing and slumping on the desk, cheek resting on your arm. gojo resists the urge to poke the soft flesh—it’ll probably make you mad, and you’re already in a bad mood. 

“he was…pushy,” you say quietly, “i don’t really believe in taking things far on the first date. he didn’t like that.” instantly, his fists clench tightly, eyeing you from the side carefully, almost in concern. “nothing happened,” you wave off, “but he did make me feel disgusting,” you mutter.

“yeah, well, he is a zenin,” he points out, “they’re…well, my family’s known them for a while. my mom hates them.”

you look over at him in mild interest, raising an eyebrow. “don’t tell me there’s drama in the rich community,” you gasp, “i thought you all just came as one to sip fancy wine and laugh at the poor together.”

he snorts, throwing you a toothy grin that you think for a moment is kind of cute—but that doesn’t mean he’s any different from the rest of the rich folks. someone of gojo satoru’s caliber has no business mixing with someone of yours—it’s common knowledge. gojo has everything he wants, and if he doesn’t, it’s a simple matter of asking before it’s his. there’s simply no way you can mold into his world to be what he needs you to be, and when the time inevitably comes when he realizes you’re not what he wants, well…you’d like to save yourself the wounded pride and crushed soul while you can. 

“sometimes we have fancy appetizers too with the wine,” he jokes, “don’t forget those.”

“oh, my apologies,” you chuckle. gojo likes it when you laugh, he decides. it looks much better than when you’re glum—he thinks seeing your lips quirked in anything other than a smile is a waste of your perfect features, and he can’t have that.

“my mom married my old man in this stupid arranged marriage or something,” he explains casually, like it’s just the norm. you suppose it is—for the rich, at least. you wonder briefly if gojo will have a marriage planned for his future, too, and you wonder if he’s okay with that. surely it’ll be some wealthy and fancy socialite of a girl that fits his family’s standards. someone who’s not you—not that you care anyway, you wouldn’t marry him regardless. “my grandma wanted her to marry the zenin, but she said no. said he treated her like a piece of meat every time they met, so she settled for my dad instead. lucky her, 'cause now i’m her son,” he beams. 

settled—something about the way he says it makes you think his parents must not really care for each other as a husband and wife should. it makes you think briefly about what his childhood might’ve been like, not watching his parents happy and in love the way they should be. but still, the way gojo talks about his mother is fond, with a gentle smile on his face as he recalls the things she’s told him. you can’t help but smile a little too.

“i think that makes you the lucky one,” you snort, “you’d still be her son. just that you’d be a zenin.”

he crinkles his nose at the thought, dramatically shivering and making you giggle. “gross,” he gags.

“well, now you have her to thank,” you hum, “your dad would’ve been…whoever the zenin she was supposed to marry is.”

“yeah, well, trust me,” he mumbles, his smile dropping ever so slightly, “my old man’s not that big of an upgrade from a zenin. even my grandfather’s sick of him. imagine being such a douche, your own dad can’t stand you.”

you’re learning more about gojo in one sitting than you ever imagined (or planned) to learn—part of that is because he seems like he’s the type to overshare on the first meet; the other part…well, you have to be honest with yourself, it’s not exactly a bad pastime hearing him talk about himself. gojo is an odd piece of work, and you can’t say you hate learning about the little pieces that come together to make him so weird. 

okay, perhaps weird is a bit rude, you think—he’s…unique.

“oh, so you’re the dictionary definition of a rich boy, huh?” you hum, resting your cheek on your hand as you sit up and face him—gojo, for a quick moment, feels his heart stutter when you talk to him like that: with your undivided attention like he’s the only one in the room. 

“what makes you say that?”

“daddy issues is like…the first thing in the rich boy starter pack.”

he laughs at that, smooth and almost sweet—it’s a dangerous thing. it’s easy to attract you to him, like a bee to honey, with the way his lips curl like that, showing off his dimples. but the bees can easily turn into maggots—and you don’t want to find yourself as a dead carcass by the end of this.

“i don’t have daddy issues,” he says smoothly, “that old man should sleep with both eyes open. if anything, he has son issues.”

“you’re hands down the oddest person i have ever met,” you mumble.

“what was that? did you say hottest? yeah, i know—”

“shut up, jackass,” you scowl, shoving his shoulder when he leans closer with a bat of his lashes. he laughs, and so do you—and just for one, quick, momentary instance, gojo satoru is not so bad. dangerous and a bad choice maybe, a setup for a big mistake perhaps, something you should stay away from, in fact. 

but not so bad. 

“how about i show you what it’s like to go on a date with a gojo,” he grins, winking easily. he’s persistent—very persistent, you note. “you might like it a lot more than a zenin.”

“no, thank you,” you hold a hand up, “never going to happen.”

“never say never,” he hums, “you might eat your words.”

—————

“hey, satoru?”

“that’s not my name.”

“that actually is your name,” you say tiredly.

“hmph,” satoru rolls over, dramatically tugging the blankets over his body as he shuffles away from you, “not to you, it’s not.” 

you sigh, pursing your lips at his antics. “oh my god. okay—hey, toru?” you correct yourself. and just like that, he turns back around, grinning brightly as he inches closer until his head is resting on your chest.

“yes, baby?” he says sweetly, earning a roll of your eyes as your fingers weave into his hair. it’s soft—you don’t think you ever want to let go.

“it’s way better dating a gojo, by the way,” you murmur, “than a zenin.”

“oh yeah?” he grins smugly, arm draping over your body as he kisses your jaw, “i told you it would be, didn’t i?”

“i haven’t dated other rich families to compare, though,” you tease, “you might get replaced.”

“unlikely,” he chuckles, “no one,” there’s a kiss to your jaw, “will love you,” another kiss to your cheek, “like me.”

finally, there’s a slow, soft kiss to your lips—and when he kisses you like that, you have no choice but to believe him.

satoru sooooo sends multiple texts back to back he just like me for real

#teepods.writings #fics. #rich boy! au #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you

[steveandbuckysdaughter]

I am so so so so so TIRED to see people fatshaming two perfectly healthy girls because they have round faces. It’s disgusting.

The actresses of Mai and Azula are on point for their roles. Hell, if they were chosen there must be a reason, it’s not like there’s no Asian actresses out there they could choose from.

People can’t accept that Azula can have a characterization beyond “crazy and sadist sicko”. She’s a perfectionist. She’s an asset to her father. She’s jealous of Zuko’s birthright and of how it might take what she has away. Those are things that OG Azula too had. The only difference is that we actually see it in season one and have a background on her, rather than writing it in a rant. And what has been added only makes her a more complex character, given the change in the family dynamic as well.

And Mai? The actress is talented, she delivers a good Mai, and does justice to the character. She’s 17 and at the beginning of her career, of course it won’t be perfect. She gets to grow. Thing is, you guys won’t let her, because a square jaw scares you so flipping bad that you feel the need to shame her for it.

Everyone is a body positivity advocate until a girl with a rounder face shape is cast as a character in a live action you are NOT forced to watch? Seriously?

I’ve seen so many people on the internet calling them all sort of names, fatshaming them, insulting their work without even focusing on the acting. And I’m like, what’s to fatshame there? Let me tell you: nothing.

If I have to put it through your thick head like this, so be it. Even though I hate talking about and comparing bodies.

This below is a picture of Azula’s actress.

She has the face card, she has the jawline, and she has a fit, enviable body. And you still have the audacity to “fat-shame” her?

These two pictures are in costume. Again, face card and an enviable body. She even has the expression for Azula. You see a girl with a rounder shape of face and will automatically go “no she’s too cute to be Azula!!” Dude. No. When she will actually deliver as the crazy girl we know, she will devour. She will, and you all will switch back because that’s what you are, slimy switchers.

And now, onto Mai’s actress, a very beautiful girl with talent and looks. She is literally so pretty, and you dare hate on her? You dare shame her for how she looks? From what I’ve heard she’s a minor, too, so this makes you 100000% more slimy and undeserving of any sympathy in my book.

This is her, this is the girl.

She’s literally so pretty. Maybe she hasn’t got the same facial structure of Mai, but she delivered all her lines she had in the little screen time and with the discutibile scenes she was given. She was good. But you see a square jaw, a rounder shape of face, and are immediately triggered.

And you can’t even use the stupid argument of “she’s fat”, because this is literally her.

A very normal, very healthy young woman. Not as skinny as OG Mai? So what? She’s still a fricking thin girl. Nowhere as “fat” as you haters make her to be.

I shouldn’t have to explain common sense and basic decency to grown adults, and yet here we are.

This is honestly so frustrating. In the year of 2024 you can’t possibly justify insulting girls like this, with no shame. It’s absolutely idiotic and shows very a big lack of brain cells. I see you, haters, behind your device, with your insecurities and shame for yourself, laughing at two girls who made it farther than you ever will. You can critique the acting once you’ve seen it in full potential. Until then, shut your tramp up. This is very small dick energy of you.

I don’t see why I should treat you with kindness when you are so eager to make this kind of jokes about pretty and in shape girls you are very obviously jealous of. Go touch some grass, incels.

#I hope anyone who sees this copies the link and sends it to whatever bitch-ass they see commenting this crap #Mai #ATLA mai #Azula #ATLA Azula #lizzy yu #Thalia Tran #NATLA #ATLA #avatar the last airbender netflix #netflix avatar the last airbender #netflix avatar #avatar the legend of aang #avatar the last airbender #body positivity #rant #Ross rants

[dr3c0mix]

Alistair x (platonically) Teen Reader

In the fic he is like oh my god a bride, he walks in and instead of an adult..or a bride-

They find a teen, who literally threw a pebble at him, an angsty teen💀

I’m very happy to read ur fics and usually pair them with teen/child mc because I find it funny because they expect the love of their life

and teen mc standing there :🧍‍♂️

anyways sorry for the long request, luv ur writing, and ur art :D

Yandere! Evil King x Teen! GN! Reader

CW: platonic relationship, Alistair is a bit of a DILF so do with it as you will, Dads are hot you guys!! READER IS A MINOR.

👑 Who is this sassy lost child?

👑 His minions kidnapped you while you were on a carriage ride back to your kingdom.

👑 He was hoping for like a princess or something to marry and take over the kingdom with or whatever so like...what tf he gonna do with you???

👑 Clearly you were too young to be in a situation like this, but theres no way he's giving you back without a reward, so yes he still holds you for ransom.

👑 "Child, I am Alistair, King of-ACk!"

👑 Did...did you throw a pillow at him?!

👑 "How dare yo- AHK! Stop it!" another one..

👑 You refuse to listen to anything he says, you just wanted to go home

👑 You two had a bit of rivalry for a bit. He hated you and you hated him.

👑 He promised not to show any affection or care towards you since in his eyes, your actions didn't deserve it. How can someone be so rude to a king !?

👑 But he starts to notice you don't eat much. He never sees you in the dining hall and has only seen quick moments of you nibbling on some bread or pastries the servants gave you.

👑 He scoffed, so irresponsible! You must eat a proper meal right this second or you'll starve!

👑 You're surprised to see a meal prepared for you during your routine trip to get a snack from the pantry with a note on the plate.

👑 "Next time, ask for a proper meal. I don't want your parents to think I've been starving you. -Alistair P.S. go to bed early."

👑 Huh...

👑 Alistair smiled from the doorway of the dining hall, watching you eat up with a smile on your face. You might have been too scared of him to ask for food so you've been sneaking snacks while he wasn't looking.

👑 Of course he wasn't doing it because he cared about you, he just didn't want royalty like you to resort to such pathetic means to eat!

👑 Why are you still sad? Perhaps he should get you some things to keep your attention..

👑 He asks (threateningly may I add) about your hobbies or interests.

👑 The next morning your cell (which has been upgraded to a lovely room in the castle because he didn't want you to be filthy and gross in a dungeon) was filled with anything he could find that he thought you'd enjoy.

👑 Don't think he wants you to be happy! He's just tired of seeing you sulk everywhere!

👑 He denies everything, but you swear you could see a tiny smile on his face when you hugged him happily.

👑 You start being a little more open to him, showing him anything you've made or done with pride and he'd receive it gratefully, but he won't show it of course.

👑 "I made you this friendship bracelet!"

👑 "I've seen better jewelry."

👑 "Oh I'll take it back then I guess.."

👑 "No, it's mine now, back off."

👑 Drawings and the like that he said would be thrown out as soon as you left would be seen framed in his room

👑 It would be a..waste of good canvas..

👑 And of course he buys a few books of your choice for you to read, he'd be damned if your brain turns to mush.

👑 Bro bro he'd be the type to let you swing around while holding onto his bicep.

👑 If you ever have any problems, or come to him in a bad mood, he'd have no idea how to help other than to sit down and listen to your troubles.

👑 He's not the most physical when it comes to affection, but you bet your ass he's gonna do everything he can to cheer you up.

👑 At this point he's rewriting his demands for the ransom. Either your kingdom lets him sign some adoption papers or he's starting a war.

#yandere #yandere x gn reader #male yandere #yandere oc #oc yandere #yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere x male reader #tw yandere #x reader #x gn reader #gn reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #king x reader #yandere king #evil king #platonic #platonic reader

[lazycats-stuff]

HEYYY, firstly how are you! I wanted to ask if you could write about a teen male reader with the Batfam. He is kinda like the winter soldier if you know what I mean ( skilled fighter, metal arm..), since he lived with the Batfam he was doing a good mental recovery, but one day he goes back to winter soldier mode on the fam, and they try to get him back to normal again, idk

Thanks you bye !

Hi anon, I'm well and I hope you are doing okay too. I can do it, no worries.

Summary: (Y/N) gets back into the Winter Soldier mode.

Warnings: implications of torture, mind control, mentions of Hydra, Bruce is sad for (Y/N), some violence... And everything else that goes with Hydra and brain washing.

The road to recovery is often a long one. Bruce thought of it when he first saw (Y/N), aka the Winter Soldier. The infamous one, a ghost within the intel community. Many people didn't believe that the Winter Soldier even existed. But the trail of neat and clean murders was the one thing that made Bruce think there is something more.

Of course, the way to get (Y/N) was hell. Hell being and understatement of the decade. Bruce at one thought that he was indeed chasing a Ghost, but something in his mind told him that the Winter Soldier was real. Something in his gut made him chase that ghost.

Months of chasing, fighting and hoping he would be alive by the next encounter, they finally got him. Bruce was lucky to be alive. He hugged all of his kids right then and there. (Y/N) was put into a glass box, strong enough to contain Bane.

(Y/N) refused to back down, refused to retreat. He punched the glass of the cage with his metal arm and some were worried that he would actually brake it. Bruce knew that even if he broke the glass, he had no handler anymore.

His organization has been destroyed. Everyone important was caught. Those who weren't... Well, their time was running out. They may have scattered like rats, but you can bet your ass on anything that the League would find them all. Especially since they didn't burn down their base. One hell of a mistake.

Bruce and the rest searched through the base and they found something that can only be considered as a holy grail when it comes to someone who was brainwashed.

A dark red book, bounded in leather, with all the trigger words written on those pages... Bruce knew that he has hit a jackpot. He looked through them and then has decided to burn it. They also found the footage of (Y/N)'s brainwashing,

The footage, as much as it is damning, making it very easy to persecute anyone they needed, it was also nauseating. (Y/N) was tortured with electricity, memory wiped with electricity... Worse of all, (Y/N) fighting.

It had shaken Bruce to his core and made him triple check the manor security and it has made him check on his sons 5 times that night. He couldn't sleep at all. He refused to sleep that one single evening and night.

And when he stood in front of the glass cage, (Y/N) looked utterly defeated. He was sitting down, looking down at his metal arm and his human arm. He seemed mad beyond belief that he was even caught. Bruce knew he would have to be delicate and gentle with this (Y/N). He had taken the book with him, to try and have some sort of leverage.

And to show him that he was free. (Y/N) was finally free of the mental shackles that they have put on him. Bruce took a chair and sat down near the cell, but far enough to make sure that there was some sort of space.

He couldn't have (Y/N) feel cornered.

He sat down, book in his lap. (Y/N) still looked down, but looked up after a few moments.

" They will come and get me back. " (Y/N) said and Bruce wanted to laugh.

" Hydra is gone. " Bruce simply stated and watched (Y/N)'s reaction.

Nothing. Huh.

" Lies. "

Bruce stayed calm and shook his head. " I'm afraid I'm telling you the truth. The book you see in my hands? The book with your trigger words. Do you really think they would hand it over ever so willingly? " Bruce asked, showing him the dark red leather book.

" You are officially free. " Bruce said as and watched the way (Y/N) reacted.

Bruce nearly broke when he saw hope in (Y/N)'s eyes. He never lost hope.

" I'll never be free... " (Y/N) said quietly, looking at his metal arm. Bruce saw that it was not a nice arms, made with quality. While it looked strong, it wasn't made to be comfortable. And Bruce could see the claw marks at the part where the flesh and metal met.

" That may be true. But you can start healing. You can start working through all of the trauma that they put you through. Mental scars will always be there, but I can help you. " Bruce said softly and (Y/N) was still emotionless and with hope glimmering in his eyes, there was something else too. Bruce could only decipher it as happiness, but he knew that (Y/N) would rather die than admit it.

" I'll be with you the entire way. I have a great friend who can help you unpack everything they put you through. And I can give you a better metal arm, something that wouldn't be so uncomfortable and something that reminds you off the organization. " Bruce said as he looked at (Y/N), holding the book close.

" And what about the book? "(Y/N) asked quietly and Bruce knew exactly what (Y/N) meant.

" It will be destroyed by me. I wanted to show you that the thing keeping you in their grasp is destroyed. Well, will be destroyed. " Bruce said as he put the book down on the chair before moving closer.

" And you can officially start your new life. "

" I'm not sure if I can... " (Y/N) said softly and the defenses were slowly cracking.

" I can assure you, you can. You will have to put some work into it, but it will pay off. I'll be there to help you to start. "

" But the feeling of guilt will never go away, will it? "

" After some time it will. One way is to go through therapy and work it out or you can become a hero. But that only if you want it and after you went through therapy. " Bruce said softly.

" Maybe then I'll atone for it... " (Y/N) said softly.

" One step at the time (Y/N). One step at the time. " Bruce said softly.

And that's exactly what has happened at the time. Bruce made sure to be with (Y/N) before and after the therapy sessions. He made sure (Y/N) knew he had support while he was talking to the Black Canary. And once Black Canary said he could start meeting new people, Bruce slowly started bringing his sons around.

Damian knew exactly how (Y/N) felt. Being in that environment is not easy and it's just the battle of the fittest. And one hell of a battle for your mind. You truly had to be strong enough to make sure to not completely break. Somehow, (Y/N) has kept his humanity, but he had to give a part of his soul to keep it.

Jason just talked to him about stuff and has made sure that he has access to TV shows and movies. (Y/N) needed to be connected to the outside world. And also, Jason has been bringing books for (Y/N) to read. Jason took him his favorites and often took him some classics. (Y/N) appreciated it and liked all the recommendations that Jason has brought to him. It was a nice break.

Tim has always sneaked in some snacks and the two would just talk. It was a hell of a time and since (Y/N) has started school, Tim would help with mathematics and some other subjects. (Y/N) couldn't really go to a public school or any type of school, but he still needs his high school diploma.

And Dick? Dick has been involved in making sure that (Y/N) was getting physical activity. (Y/N) was stiff in Dick's opinion and he wanted to make sure (Y/N) felt good in his body too. Dick did stretches, some tricks and considering that (Y/N) did have some knowledge about gymnastics, it was slightly easier. Not to mention, stretches were something that everyone needs.

About a year after being saved, (Y/N) has moved into the Wayne Manor. It was a nice change of scenery for (Y/N). Beautiful manor, garden, not to mention no noises... And Titus, the Great Dane being an emotional support animal for (Y/N)...

(Y/N) was incredibly happy, but had hard time showing it. Everyone knew but didn't comment on it. They were helping him get adjusted to his new life now and they were more than happy to help. And one thing that made (Y/N) happy out of his mind was the fact that he got a new metal arm. It was black, with red, blue and green accents. It was something to signalized that he was a member of the family.

Bruce was going to adopt him soon enough. Just give him some time and he will do it.

But something happened at the two month mark. Something made him reverse back into the Winter Soldier mode. Bruce was certain that they wiped the triggers from his mind. Not to mention, the boys remembered the trigger words, just in case something like this happened and that they could be careful.

But something must have snapped inside of (Y/N). The boys were careful, but something must have gone awry. Something.

Jason and Dick were the first ones to see it and were the first ones to see it and the brunt end of it. Jason was hurled out the window, while Dick was thrown at the wall like a rag doll. The commotion woke Tim up and Damian was curious as to what was going on.

They were also thrown around the room.

" (Y/N), you are not a Winter Soldier, relax! " Jason said as he made his way through the window, grunting at the pain.

" Please, (Y/N) this is not you! " Dick yelled as he gripped his sides, huffing and panting.

(Y/N), seemingly didn't hear anything and nothing was reaching him. The cold and murderous look in his eyes was more than enough to tell them that they had to subdue him.

Somehow.

Damian jumped on (Y/N)'s shoulders, trying to take his metal arm off. Once they get that off, they are going to be fine. They hope at least.

" (Y/N) come on! Fight it! " Damian raised his voice, trying to make (Y/N) see his senses. (Y/N) didn't listen and threw himself into the wall, back first to throw Damian off and then he threw Damian into the shelves, making him groan in pain.

Bruce walked in from the outside and froze in shock. His adopted sons in various stages of pain and (Y/N) in the Winter Soldier mode. Bruce stayed calm as he glanced over his sons.

They were alive and breathing. That's the important thing right now.

" (Y/N) listen to me. " Bruce said softly as he moved closer, quickly checking on his sons, who were all softly confirming that they were good.

" Look at me. Remember me. It's Bruce. You are safe. The Winter Soldier doesn't control you, you control him. " Bruce said, raising his hands in the air, trying to make sure that he didn't look like threatening.

" You control him, remember that. " Bruce said as he quickly checked on Jason.

(Y/N) looked like he was confused and shook his head. Bruce watched in silence as (Y/N) was getting his bearings together. And once he saw tears falling down his cheeks, he swooped in and hugged his son.

(Y/N) wept as Bruce embraced him and everyone, including Alfred, brought him into a hug. It was a tight hug and Bruce refused to let (Y/N) shatter. And (Y/N) felt safe Bruce's embrace, but by God, guilt was eating him alive.

Apologies were falling from his lips and everyone assured him that it wasn't his fault. It really wasn't his fault.

#dc comics #dc x male reader #x male reader #batfamily #bruce wayne x male reader #batman x male reader #jason todd x male reader #red hood x male reader #tim drake x male reader #red robin x male reader #dick grayson x male reader #nightwing x male oc #damian wayne x male reader #robin x male reader

[spitdrunken]

I’ve been thinking about winter king a lot… all of this is essentially an excuse to ramble about some thoughts ive had about him, so don’t think too hard about how reader/you ended up in his universe, there's no reason haha notes: manipulative behaviour, unhealthy relationship.

A person can only withstand so much time with only the company of creatures they made themselves. Winter King is no different. He hadn't noticed it at first, the fact that every word out of his subjects' mouths is predictable, and that their one personality traits was dedication. Back then, he'd been caught up in the thrill of a life without madness, too lost in the mind that could hold coherent thoughts. (The price that had been paid for that change had not been his to pay.)

But, with time, a loneliness- Well, not a loneliness. No, that is a pathetic word, that belongs with the pathetic past self of his that he's shed by now. Let's call it a boredom that settled over him. One that made him allow Candy Queen to kidnap him over and over again, despite the fact he could easily defeat her. At least around her, there was unpredictability, and a semblance of a conversation to be had. As incoherent as it was, it was close to a human conversation. An odd thing it is, for that word to pop into his mind now. She has never been human, and he has long ceased to be one.

What use is it being this charming, this handsome, when there's nobody around with enough brain cells to admire it? He'd never been popular as the Ice King, understandably so, he'll admit, but nothing has changed since. Not even now that he is the ruler of a prosperous kingdom of his own, one that he has spent countless years meticulously perfecting. It really is a pity. With the Winter Kingdom avoided by everyone except by its inhabitants, he might as well just start kissing himself at this point. By the time that thought starts to seem viable, he is lucky enough that a change does occur.

Imagine his surprise, his utter delight, when someone new wanders into his kingdom! Entirely unfamiliar with him or his story, even this world, and oh-so completely lost. It's perfect! Whatever he tells you, you'll just have to believe, with nothing else to compare it to. You're so clearly human, too. It's been forever since he last saw one up close. ...Well, an adult, at least. He can't deny the fact that the scientist inside him is curious about how in God's name you'd ended up here, but that is of lesser importance to him. He's gotten exactly what he wanted: a companion! He'll put his charms to the test, and ensure that the thought of leaving his Winter Kingdom never crosses your mind again. How could your home ever be better than his?

With the promise of trying to find you a way home, he offers you a place to stay. The world out there is dangerous, you know! But even if he had genuinely wanted to help you out, crossing dimensions is, as of now, outside the realm of his abilities. Winter King quickly comes to the conclusion that you're just plain cute. It's delightful how easily impressed you are, and it's clear that whatever world you're from, magic is not a part of it. Things that, to him, are as simple as breathing, pull a response from you.

The first time he showed his powers in front of you, creating ice by freezing the moisture in the air, and moulding it together into a chair for you to sit on, you'd responded with awe. He couldn't possibly keep himself from laughing at that! Ah, sorry, dear, he really means no harm- But why did you think he was called the Winter King, hm? He loves it, though, really. You are perhaps stroking his ego a bit too much through all of this. It makes him stand just a bit straighter, puff his chest out a bit more, and thinks: yes, taking you in really was no mistake at all.

He puts the charm on thick. Now that has the opportunity, he wants to try his best to really swoop someone off of their feet. He'll compliment your personality and appearance any chance he gets, and especially enjoys it if you are easily flustered. (Though if you aren't, a part of him would enjoy more of a challenge as well.) As soon as he knows you're embarrassed, he'd put his hands on your cheeks to help you 'cool off.' ("Ha, ha! Oh, dear, you're going to melt my hands off at this rate!)

He'll order his servants to obey your every desire. As long as it doesn't conflict with his own, that is. There's a lot of things to get used to in the Winter Kingdom, and he'll even linger around you as you get the hang out of skating around the palace. With a snap of his fingers, he'll create ridges and bumps on the floors, only to catch you as you inevitably fall. Winter King is not above some... Well, lying sounds a lot worse than it is. Twisting of the truth? In his attempts to woo you. As long as you don't find out, there'd be no harm in it.

This aspect of him becomes most obvious in the way he handles the subject of the Candy Queen. She becomes merely another actress on the stage for him to use in the process of courting you. He'll warn you, of course, that there is an utterly mad woman, a nuisance, who is completely obsessed with him. As she's constantly following him around, she'll likely find out about your presence soon, too. And, against his will, he knows her well enough at this point to know that she won't be happy, ha! You'd best stay close to him, so he can keep you safe. With the type of special relationship the two of you have, she is bound to get jealous, dear! He doesn’t mind if he were to kidnap him, it has happened before, but if she were to hurt you, oh…!

He really thinks that was a wonderful performance of this. Oh, of course there were grains of truth in there! If you'd actually gotten hurt, if you were actually taken away from him, he doesn't know what he'd do- But he knows Candy Queen's whims and shenanigans well enough to know to avoid such a thing. He will keep you safe, he promised, but what better way to heighten your opinion of him even further, than through saving you from the clutches of danger? So, yes, he will let you get kidnapped once or twice by her on purpose, knowing full and well that Candy Queen was only doing so in order to draw him out. In achieving that goal, it would always be successful. As long as he always ensures he gets you back safe and sound, where's the harm in it? When you inevitably fall for him, and you can spend a happy life together, was anything he's done truly bad?

#fionna and cake x reader #winter king #winter king x reader #adventure time x reader #fionna and cake #cha.winter #he makes me foam at the mouth

[lxclerc]

𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 | 𝐜𝐬𝟓𝟓

SUMMARY: where charles regrets introducing his sister to his teammate or the leclerc brothers are cockblocks WARNING: fluff, SMUT, 18+, age gap (reader is 23, carlos is 27), oral (both m and f), the leclerc siblings basically sharing one brain cell PAIRING: leclerc!sister x carlos sainz REQUEST: “can I request a Carlos Sainz smut imagine??” WORD COUNT: 3.5k

NOTE: since it’s carlos’ birthday, i thought it’s finally time to write something for him

masterlist

The moment Charles saw the look in your face as you reached to shake Carlos' hand, he knew he messed up. Despite being a year older than you, Charles has never been the overprotective type. He leaves all that to Enzo. More often than not, he encourages you to meet new people, go on that date with that nice guy from your chem 101 class. It's when they mess up that Charles is the first to throw in a punch. 

That being said, he isn't particularly happy with the idea of you dating his teammate. It's not that he doesn't trust you and Carlos because he does but statistically, most relationships in our lifetimes fail. There are bigger chances of you and Carlos not working out than you did living happily ever after. 

And when Carlos’ face lit up as he shook your hand, Charles felt as though he's watching a crash happen. 

“Pleasure is all mine, Hermosa,” Carlos says kindly, causing a blush to rise to your cheeks. At that moment, Carlos thought you're the most beautiful being to exist, everyone else around you becoming background noise as he focussed his attention on you. 

Meeting your eyes, it feels as though something clicked in place. It sounded cliche and overused but he could have sworn that everything suddenly felt a little brighter the moment you stepped into his life. 

Charles looked back and forth between the two of you, resisting the urge to groan at the sudden brightness in Carlos’ eyes and the sudden redness of your cheeks. Introducing the two of you was definitely his worst mistake. 

It didn't take long for you to suddenly keep appearing in the paddock more than usual. Charles is happy to have you around, of course, along with Arthur and Lorenzo but he found it odd how you're suddenly able to make time to jump from plane to plane just to show support. 

However, he's quick to piece together the reason for your sudden interest in the sport when you climbed in the ferrari private plane, summer dress on and barely glancing at him as you crashed straight into Carlos’ chest. Your attempt at a ‘friendly hug’ that lasted longer than it should had him scoffing along with the wide smile the two of you are sporting.

“Qu'est-ce qui se passe ici ?” Arthur asked from beside Charles, surely already thinking about the thousand ways he can tease you of your obvious new crush. What’s going on there?

“C'est de ma faute,” Charles muttered under his breath as he watched Carlos reach over to tuck in a strand of your hair that fell to your face. My fault.

“Enzo ne sera pas content,” Arthur said with a mischievous grin, obviously finding amusement in the situation you're all currently in. Enzo won't be happy.

Enzo, the eldest of the four of you, has taken it upon himself to always be protecting his siblings, especifically you and Arthur. He can be overprotective, especially the guys you date, having been tasked more than once with picking up the broken shards of your heart after some guy callously broke it.

“Oi, Y/N!” Charles calls with clear irritation in his voice, breaking you and Carlos from the little bubble you've created, clearly having forgotten about everyone else. “Greet your brothers too, why don't you?” 

“We haven't seen you for a month and you don't even notice us!” Arthur childishly whines, making you roll your eyes as you give Carlos another smile before moving towards your brothers.

 “Je t'ai vu hier, Arthur,” you say, a little bit of accusation in your voice. I saw you yesterday, Arthur.

Arthur pouts but the teasing glint in his eyes is obvious. “Yes and I've missed you since.” 

You roll your eyes again as you envelop Charles in a hug, reaching behind him to lightly smack the back of your youngest brother’s head. 

“I'm going to tell maman.” 

“Cry me a river, you big baby,” you say, your french accent jumping out. 

Finally, Lorenzo enters the plane just as you and Arthur are beginning to bicker, Charles completely relaxed between you two, already used to it. Lorenzo sighs. It's always the two of you giving him a headache. 

“Y/N, s'asseoir. Nous sommes sur le point de décoller,” Lorenzo orders in an attempt to stop you both before you really get at it. Y/N, sit. We're about to take off.

Instead of listening, you only cross your arms over your chest. “I'm not sitting next to Arthur.” 

“Cry me a river, you big baby,” Arthur mocks childishly, causing a sigh from Enzo, Charles still completely unbothered in between the brewing chaos between the two youngest. Growing up, it's always been like this. You and Arthur bickering back and forth, Enzo trying to keep you both in line and Charles unbothered and used to it all. 

However, before Enzo can propose a solution, you've already turned your back on them, walking back to where Carlos sat with his trainer, occupying the free seat next to the Spaniard as a smile breaks into your face, Carlos quickly putting his phone down in order to give you his full attention. 

“When did that happen?” The oldest asked, causing a frown and Charles could feel himself shrinking in his seat. 

Charles’ regret with introducing the two of you finally reached an all time high during the holiday break. You've been cooped up in your apartment for days, claiming the heavy load of school work you're going through to be the reason. 

Charles had no suspicions. He had no reason to not believe you and so when he drove over to your place with a pint of your favorite ice cream in hand with the purpose of inviting you to join him and the rest of your friends in his yacht, he genuinely thought he was doing a nice thing. 

He missed his family and he wanted to spend quality time with you guys before flying to Belgium in three weeks but his good mood was instantly ruined when he knocked on your door and it wasn't you who answered. 

“Carlos?!” Charles asked, shocked and confused at seeing the Spaniard before him in Monaco, much less a very much topless one. As far as he knew, the rest of the other drivers are taking advantage of the break to spend time with their families so what’s Carlos doing in your apartment? 

And then it became clear from the guilty look on Carlos’ face along with the purple marks all over his chest and neck and Charles let out a long groan as he pushed past his teammate into your apartment. “Y/N!”

Finally, you emerge from your bedroom, hair messy and skin all blotchy with matching love bites, wearing a too big shirt that definitely doesn't belong to you. “Charles! Tu ne m'as pas dit que tu venais.” You didn't tell me you were coming over.

Your attempt at playing dumb had him rolling his eyes as he points at a sheepish looking Carlos. “Explain yourself.”

“It isn't what it looks like,” you start before faltering, eyes switching between your brother and the man you had been on your knees for mere seconds ago. You can still taste his cum on your tongue. “Okay, nevermind that, it's definitely what it looks like.” 

“Mate–” Carlos starts but Charles holds a finger up to stop him, sitting himself down on your couch. 

“Give me a moment,” he says, mind spinning. Charles had never been the overprotective type but all he can think about is that Carlos is going to break your heart and Charles will have to kill him and there goes years of friendship down the drain. 

“Here.” You offer him a glass of water. “We didn't mean to but we’ve liked each other for weeks and it just happened—”

“Stop,” Charles groans, not wanting to know the details of your relationship. 

For a moment, silence envelops the three of you as Charles tries to gather his thoughts. He watched as you and Carlos slowly gravitated towards each other, finding yourself on the other side of the couch, legs pressed against each other’s and Carlos’ hand situating itself on your bare thigh. 

Charles groans again. “I shouldn't have introduced you and now Enzo is going to kill me.”

The pure fear in your eyes almost worried Carlos if he didn’t already know that you and your brothers seem to share the same wavelength that consist of making each other lives the hardest it can be for giggles and laughs.

“No wait!” You say immediately, sitting next to Charles. “Parlons-en, Charles. Je vais lui dire. Ne le dis à personne. Especially not Arthur!” Let’s talk about this, Charles. I’ll tell him. Don’t tell anyone anything.

You already know that Enzo will freak out and Arthur will make your life a living hell by teasing you and quite frankly, you don’t want to put yourself or Carlos through that. 

“Je n'aurais pas dû vous présenter tous les deux !” Charles exclaimed before facing Carlos, unknowingly switching to italian. “E tu, Carlos! Mia sorella, davvero? Non potevi scegliere letteralmente qualcun altro?” I shouldn’t have introduced the two of you! … and you, carlos! My sister, really? You couldn’t have chosen literally anyone else?

“Mate, non volevo che accadesse! Non ho mai voluto mancarti di rispetto, ma abbiamo–” I didn’t mean for it to happen. I never want to disrespect you but we’ve–

“Aye! Aye!” Charles interrupts, covering his ears like a toddler. “I don’t want to know anything about your relationship with my sister, mate!” 

The switch in languages is giving you a whiplash as the two men seem to be speaking a thousand miles per hour, barely giving you time to catch up considering you’re not as fluent in italian as the two of them.

“Charles, stop acting like a toddler!” You exclaim finally, throwing your hands up in frustration the way that Carlos often teases you. “Je suis un adulte et je peux prendre mes propres décisions. Je peux sortir avec qui je veux sans ta permission ! Si vous avez un problème avec ça, vous pouvez vous le mettre au cul.” I am an adult and I can make my own decisions. I can date whoever I want without your permission! If you have a problem with it then you can shove it right up your ass.

With your outburst, Charles and Carlos both found themselves frozen in place. Charles because he hasn’t seen you that angry since secondary school when Arthur pranked you by dumping slime on your homework and Carlos because, well because he found you rambling in french to be an extremely attractive sight. 

Charles rolls his eyes but knows that you’re right either way. “Fine. I won’t tell anyone.” 

A small smile finally broke into your face as you reached towards him and enveloped him in your arms, causing Charles to roll his eyes for the second time as he couldn't help but return the hug. 

“But please–”

“Charles,” you interrupt before he can say anything else that will annoy you. “That’s the end of the conversation and it’s your cue to leave.”

Charles looks like he wants to object but thinks better of it as he plants a kiss on your cheek before exiting your apartment, leaving you and Carlos shell shocked. Finally, you stand up and walk over to your lover, arms snaking around his neck and his placing on your hips as you go on your tiptoes to plant a soft kiss on his lips, forcing him to look down at you. 

“I think that went well, no?” You grin and Carlos can’t help but lean into your touch, pulling you closer to his body.

“I think we traumatized him.” 

You grin wider, already dragging him to the bedroom

--

You and Carlos had woken up from the monte carlo sun blinding you through your window, wrapped around in each other as you dread bringing him to the airport to spend the next two weeks of his holiday break with his family with the promise of returning for the last week in order for you to introduce him to yours.

“I don’t want to leave,” he muttered against your skin, laying between your legs and head on your chest. His hold on you is tight as your fingers absentmindedly play with his hair.

“You have to,” you tell him. “You miss your family and you should spend time with them.”

You dread the next two weeks, having received a text from Charles that he’s going to be dragging you around with all of his plans along with your brothers. He calls it spending quality sibling time, you call it trapping you so they can grill you about your love life.

Carlos climbs from your chest so he’s hovering over you, lips ghosting over the skin of your neck. “Te amo.”

You smile softly as you cup his cheeks between your palms, guiding his lips on yours. “Je t'aime.” 

Carlos grins into the kiss before slipping his tongue past your lips to explore your mouth. “Show me how much.” 

In all honesty, with every new layer you uncover of your lover, you’re left in even more awe than the last time. He always finds some way to be touching you, so much so that you’re quite surprised it took Charles this long to figure out your relationship. Carlos is so soft, loving you so gently. He’s sweet and considerate, always knowing what you need before you even say it. 

But when you’re in bed, there’s a different side of Carlos, someone who likes being in charge, being in control. Someone who demands you scream his name as loud as you can and would have you begging for release only to finally give it to you and have your legs shaking till you’re begging him to stop. 

You were in the process of climbing down from his neck as you unbuttoned his pants when you heard it, immediately making Carlos halt your movements. 

“Y/N!” You heard the voice of your little brother, throwing your front door open. “Qu'est-ce que j'entends de la part de Charles, que tu sors avec un certain pilote espagnol de Ferrari ?” What's this I'm hearing from Charles that you're dating a certain spanish ferrari driver?

You groan, pulling yourself up as Carlos’ hard on immediately softens at the sound of your brother’s voice. “I’m going to kill Charles.” 

Carlos laughs as you fall back into his chest, his arms wrapping around you. “You have way too many brothers.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh as you finally pulled yourself up, pulling him along with you as you threw a hoodie in his direction. You can’t find it in you to be ashamed as you watch his back muscles flex and stretch as he pulls the hoodie over his head. 

“Like what you see, Corazón?” He teases and you playfully roll your eyes.

“I’d like it more if I were on my knees right now sucking your dick.”

At that exact moment, Arthur comes barging into your bedroom, thankfully not having heard your statement as he all but throws himself at your bed, throwing a weird glance at Carlos’ extremely reddening face.

Facing your brother, you give him your best stern look. Charles and Enzo may get to boss you around but you are still older than Arthur by a good two years. You’re well within your rights to be mean to him whenever you see fit.

“Arthur!” You start. “I gave you a spare key in case of an emergency, not so you can come into my home anytime you want.” 

“This is an emergency.” He sounds so much like a whiny child that you have half a mind to throw your slippers at him. “I wanted to see if what Charles said was true. I can’t believe you actually got yourself a boyfriend!” 

“I’m going to kill Charles,” you repeat, Carlos planting a kiss on your temple as he continues on to the shower, leaving you to deal with the youngest Leclerc. “And what do you mean by that, you idiot?” 

“Well, I mean you look a bit like a troll–”

This time, you actually throw your slipper at him. 

---

You squirm as Carlos’ finger circles your clit, his lips attacking your neck. 

“Doing so good for me, Amor,” he whispers against your skin. “Doing so good keeping quiet.”

“Carlos,” you whine out, squirming on his lap in an attempt to get his finger to move. “Please.”

“What do you want, baby?” He asked, the callus pad of his finger feeling like heaven against your most sensitive area. 

“Please touch me,” you beg, already breathless. “Please, please.”

You can feel the imprint of his mischievous grin as he kisses along your neck to your shoulder. “I am touching you, Amor.” 

God, you both love and hate it when he gets like this. “More. More please.” 

His driver room is tiny and so your heavy pants bounce against the walls and you’re sure you sound pathetic begging for his touch but he hasn’t touched you since he left you in monte carlo that first week of his holiday break and quite frankly, you’re desperate for some sort of relief.

Carlos nibbles at the sensitive skin on your neck, making you release a moan that you desperately tried to hold in. “Alright, honey, since you’re being such a good girl letting me use you like this.”

Finally, finally, his finger slips inside your folds, giving you relief as you throw your head back, your legs turning jelly and Carlos being the one holding you up as you become puny in his hold. You bite your lip in an attempt to hold in your moans as his finger starts moving faster. 

“So filthy,” Carlos whispers in your ear as the squelching sound of his finger thrusting inside your cunt vibrates around the small area. “So filthy for me.”

“Hmm,” you agree, head thrown back as you begin feeling your high approaching, the feeling intensifying as Carlos adds in another finger. Your climax is right within your reach as your legs shake, hands gripping Carlos’ thigh that you’re sure your nails would leave an imprint on his skin. 

Yet just as you’re about to spasm, you both hear insistent knocks on Carlos’ door, your eyes flying open at the intrusion. 

Carlos keeps his fingers buried deep inside you, movements not ceasing as he speaks up. “Who is it?” 

You’re honestly amazed at how even his voice is while you feel as though you’re about to fall apart, having moved your head so you’re biting on his shoulder in an attempt to keep yourself quiet, something that Carlos barely flinched at. 

“It’s Lorenzo,” came your eldest brother’s voice and just like that, the moment was broken and Carlos immediately pulled his fingers out of you. 

You feel like you’ve been robbed, your climax so close yet now so far as Carlos very easily removes you from his lap, making sure your clothes are perfectly back in place, wiping his hand on a nearby face towel and spraying some alcohol on his palms before he opens the door with the biggest smile on his face as though he hadn’t just been finger fucking you seconds ago.

For a moment, you sat stunned. A few seconds ago, you were coming undone with your boyfriend’s fingers deep inside you and now said boyfriend is smiling at your older brother as if Lorenzo had cured cancer itself. You know he’s been desperate to earn your family’s respect ever since you two went public but goddamn it couldn’t he have let you finish first?

“Maman is insisting on a dinner to cheer Charles up and celebrate Carlos’ podium,” said your brother. “We’ve been waiting for the two of you for ages.”

“Actually, can we—” you start but your boyfriend gives you a pointed look before he interrupts.

“We’ll be there in a second,” Carlos said calmly. “Let me just change out of my race suit.”

You’re on your boyfriend as soon as the door closes, glaring at him. “That’s extremely rude.”

Carlos grins as he pulls you towards him in order to connect your lips. “I’ll take care of you later, Amor.”

Carlos does not, in fact, take care of you later. It isn’t his fault. The next couple of days were extremely hectic with ferrari working overtime to catch up with red bull and you barely got any moment alone with him apart to sleep. 

You understand, really, but you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t felt extremely on edge the entire time. It’s like the cruelest game of teasing and never getting to cum. And frankly, you blame your brothers entirely for your predicament. 

“Charlotte, I’m telling you it’s like they’re determined to make sure I don’t have a sex life!” You complain over the phone. “Ils continuent à apparaître de nulle part ! Je suis sur le point d'embrasser Carlos ? Oh, voilà Charles ! Je suis assis sur les genoux de Carlos ? Enzo frappe à la porte ! Je veux descendre sur mon petit ami ? Il y a Arthur !” They keep appearing out of nowhere! I'm about to kiss Carlos? Oh there's Charles! I'm sat on carlos' lap? Enzo's knocking on the door! I want to go down on my boyfriend? There's Arthur!

On the other side, Charlotte laughs loudly at your misery and if you weren’t so frustrated, you’d find it in yourself to be embarrassed but you haven’t been this sexually frustrated since you were a teenager and everytime Carlos even mildly touches you, it’s like your body goes on an overdrive and you’re ready to get down on your knees for him. Unfortunately for you, your brothers seem to be everywhere. One always seems to be tailing you around. 

You suddenly agree with Carlos that you have way too many brothers because this is just ridiculous at this point. 

“Ils ne le font sûrement pas exprès,” Charlotte says, trying to calm you down. Surely they don't mean to do it on purpose.

“I don’t care,” you pout again. You so badly want to jump his bones that you almost feel like a pervert. “I just need them to leave me alone for an hour so I can actually spend time with my boyfriend. Can’t you just steal Charles for the day so I can lock Arthur and Lorenzo somewhere?”

Charlotte laughs again. “I’ll be there by tomorrow and I definitely wouldn’t mind a day alone with Charles.”

“Yes please, I’d kiss you on the spot!” 

Finally, Carlos and Charles arrive and you end your call with Charlotte in favor of spending time with your boyfriend, removing the armrest between the two of you so you can place your head against his shoulder. 

“Mon amour, you are cruel,” you whisper against his ear, making sure no one else can hear. 

At your words, Carlos’ eyes darkened a bit. “Trust me, Corazón, I’d love to fuck you silly too.”

Very much like you, Carlos too is struggling with the multiple interruptions as is now becoming apparent to you considering that your boyfriend barely uses such dirty words outside the bedroom. He needed you and he’s beginning to get a little desperate. That must be why he agreed when you told him to follow you to the bathroom five minutes after you. 

Carlos loves trying out things in the bedroom but one thing he isn’t is risky. The idea of getting caught fills him terror rather than lust especially the thought of getting caught by someone you shouldn’t be caught by with his career in the line. You understand and it isn’t usually your thing either but you’re both desperate. A little bit of relief is very much needed or else you’ll explode. 

You basically throw yourself at him as soon as the door shuts, your lips messy against his as Carlos’ hands fall to your hips, trying to stabilize you as you hurriedly pull his shirt off him, mouth already traveling to his exposed neck. 

“Needy, are you?” He teases but he lets you take the lead despite knowing you’d willingly give control if he wanted it. Despite his good boy persona, Carlos does have an ego and nothing boosts a man’s ego more than his girlfriend being desperate for him.

“Shut up,” you muttered, already working on his belt that seems to be adamant to stay on. “Ceinture stupide.” Stupid belt.

You grin triumphantly once you finally get the belt off him and the sight of you grinning as you hold his belt up triumphantly was so adorable to him that Carlos planted a gentle kiss on your forehead, genuinely so hopelessly in love with you in that moment as you move to unzip his pants. You don’t even pay attention to the sudden sweet gesture in the middle of your lust filled mission to get him in your mouth as you sink to your knees. 

Carlos holds your hair in a ponytail as you pull out his cock out of his boxers, kitty licking the side and causing Carlos to throw his head back, lightly tugging at your hair. “Baby, don’t play.”

You look up at him under your lashes, the pure look of innocence if only you aren’t gripping his cock. Finally, you put him into your mouth, slowly lowering your head till your nose hits his pelvis and his tip hits the back of your throat. 

“Y/N!” And then there’s banging on the door and you actually fall on your ass at the impact considering that you and Carlos were leaning on said door.

“I’m going to scream,” you tell your boyfriend as you recognize your brother’s voice, completely frustrated at the predicament you found yourself in for the fourth time. 

Carlos laughs, kneeling next to you as he covers your mouth. “Don’t.”

“Y/N, you better not be doing what I think you’re doing in there!” Charles screams from the other side, banging on the door once again.

“Just ignore him,” you plead, reaching between the two of you to grip Carlos’ now softening cock. “Please.”

“Amor, as beautiful as you are, I’m not going to have sex with you with your brother on the other side of the door,” Carlos side, hastily pulling his boxers and jeans up.

“Y/N!” Charles calls again, voice becoming louder and you can hear Arthur’s voice on the other side now too. 

“Can’t a woman shit in peace around here?” You scream back as Carlos slips his shirt back on, you still sitting on the floor, arms crossed over your chest and a pout pulling on your lips. 

“Do you need Carlos in there with you in order to take a dump, sister?” You recognize Arthur’s voice (which if you aren’t so pissed at them, you’d pat yourself on the back on considering that Charles and Arthur’s voices when speaking English are eerily similar). 

“Leave me alone!” You scream again as Carlos, now fully clothed, pulls you up from the floor. You pout, lightly pulling at his shirt in your last attempt to convince him to continue what you had been doing but Carlos only chuckles as he finally unlocks the door, revealing a smirking Arthur and a disgusted looking Charles. 

“Y/N was just helping me with something,” Carlos tries to reason, his hand entwining with yours. 

You look murderous as you glare at your brothers, making sure to give them the middle finger as you drag Carlos back to your seats. 

taglist: @ricsaigaslec @dragon-of-winterfell @coffeehurricanes @rdtbattinson @privcherry7 @miniminescapist @lostinketterdam

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x y/n #ferrari #formula 1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fluff #arthur leclerc #arthur leclerc fluff #lorenzo leclerc #lorenzo leclerc fluff

[sidekick-hero]

(steddie | mature | 2k | tags: established relationship, post-s4, Valentine's Day, Robin is the best, fluff | summary: Steve loves Eddie, he really, really does. He just can't say it. | @steddielovemonth prompt Love is just a four-letter word by @sal-si-puedes | AO3)

"He probably thinks I don't love him, Robin. Which is... ridiculous. I do! I really, really do. I just can't say it." Steve is pacing around the blissfully empty Family Video Store, his hands making a mess of his hair as they run through it in frustration.

"This is so stupid. I* am* so stupid, it's just four stupid letters, even a preschooler can say it," he rambles, his eyes wild as they look at Robin. "Why am I like this, Robbie?" His voice breaks, along with his heart, at the thought of Eddie doubting Steve's feelings for him for even a second.

Robin walks over to him and grips his shoulders tightly, her blue eyes boring into his as she says in her firmest you-listen-to-me-now voice. "You're not stupid. This is my best friend you're talking about, so watch it." That earns her at least a half-smile, which counts as a victory considering Steve was already pinching his nose to hold back tears.

"I know you love him, Steve. Everyone knows it. One look at you when he's in the room, or even when you're just talking about him, is enough to know you love him. And I'm sure Eddie knows it too. He has to."

Robin's words soothe some of the fear in Steve's heart, knowing that she would tell him if she really thought he had messed up. But even though it's okay now, Eddie won't wait forever for Steve to say those three little words. No one would. Steve knows that his heart couldn't take being with Eddie, loving Eddie and telling him that, only to never hear it back from him.

"I don't know. Even if you're right, I feel like I'm losing him. That something in me is broken, and one day he'll realize that too, and then he'll leave." With an even smaller voice Steve adds: "I can't lose him, Robbie".

They don't hug very often. Robin shows her affection in many ways, but most of them aren't overly physical. That's Eddie's job, clinging to Steve like a koala most days, always touching Steve in some way, even if it's just his shoulder nudging Steve's. Robin pulling him into a tight hug now means a lot to him, but it's also a testament to the gravity of the situation.

With their arms around each other between the horror and action movie sections, Steve takes a moment to just soak in the comfort she offers. What happened at Starcourt messed them both up, caused them both more trauma than any teenager should have to deal with, but on a very selfish level, Steve can't help but be grateful that it happened. A life without Robin Buckley sounds like the greater horror to him.

After a few minutes, Robin gently pulls away from Steve to look at him. He's reluctant to let her go, even though he knows this is an even longer hug than the one she gave him when Nancy told him they weren't getting back together after defeating Vecna. She wanted to go to Boston, make a career, see the world. And Steve? Steve wanted a home, a place to belong, and someone to share that home with. They wanted different things, he realizes now.

That doesn't mean it didn't open old wounds, memories of how it felt to be rejected by her, his love for her thrown in his face like it was worthless. Bullshit.

As attuned to him and his thoughts as ever, a true testament to the fact that they share a brain cell, Robin says, "I think it's understandable that you can't say it. The last time you told someone you loved them, you were hurt, badly. Your heart is probably just trying to protect itself. Like a kid who touched a hot stove and got burned wouldn't touch another stove, you know?"

Steve nods, because in a way it makes sense. It just doesn't help him to know.

"But what am I supposed to do, Robin? It's not Eddie's fault that I'm broken."

"You, Steve Harrington, are not broken. Just a little bruised. There is nothing wrong with you just because you got hurt and have the scars to show for it. Like Max, because of the injuries to her leg, she cannot walk like she used to before Vecna, so she uses her crutch. She's not broken. Is she?"

"No, of course not. If anything, she's even stronger now, I saw her hit Lucas with the crutch and tell him to hurry up on the way to the movies," Steve says, smiling at the memory.

"See!" Robin waves her hand at him in excitement, almost bouncing with it. "All you need is a crutch!"

They look at each other wide-eyed before matching smiles break out on their faces, Robin's giddy at having found a solution, Steve's reflecting the tentative hope blossoming in his chest.

His talk with Robin certainly helped, but as Valentine's Day approaches, the fears and insecurities start to creep back in. It's not even like Eddie is giving him any indication that he's not happy with Steve or their relationship. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Eddie tells him he loves him almost every time they see each other, at the most random moments. Some days he whispers it in Steve's ear to wake him up, other days it's his way of saying good night to him with his arm around Steve's waist and his hand over Steve's heart in a protective grip. He says it casually when Steve brings him breakfast in bed or lunch to the record store where he now works. Just yesterday he said it while Steve was buried deep inside him, their hands intertwined beside Eddie's head and brown eyes looking softly up at Steve.

It's not meant to make him feel bad about himself, he knows that.

He still does.

So when he opens his front door to the sight of Eddie standing on his doorstep in his nicest jeans and a forest green button-down Steve has never seen before, clearly having put some real effort into his appearance, Steve almost crumbles.

He's a shitty boyfriend, isn't he? There's this amazing guy who goes out of his way to look nice for Steve, even though he doesn't even like Valentine's Day, just because he knows it's important to Steve. And he can't even tell him he loves him.

Some of what he's feeling must be showing on his face, because Eddie's cheerful smile falls and he hurries into the house to pull Steve into his arms, slamming the door shut with his foot.

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry, I told Dustin green wasn't my color, but he insisted. I look hideous, don't I?"

That makes Steve snort wetly into Eddie's neck before muttering a fond "Idiot" into it.

Eddie just hums, obviously pleased with himself for making Steve laugh. "You can tell me. You know I don't mind getting naked for you."

"You're getting a little ahead of yourself, aren't you?"

Eddie grinned wolfishly at him. "I don't know, the tear in my Hellfire shirt from when you ripped it off me begs to differ."

Steve blushes at the memory, even as he laughs at Eddie's words. Instead of saying anything else, Steve pulls him back into his arms and Eddie goes willingly.

"Hi, baby," he says, his nose brushing behind Steve's ear.

"Hi." Steve breathes him in, the smell of cigarette smoke and his shampoo strong where his nose is buried in Eddie's hair.

They don't let go for a long time.

It's Eddie who pulls back first, and Steve does his best not to read into it. "You want to tell me what's going on?"

The Steve from before the Upside Down would have just shaken his head and told Eddie that everything was fine before pulling him into the bedroom to reassure them both that it was. Not talking about his feelings, fears, and needs might have worked for hookups, but he learned the hard way that it doesn't work when you want to be in a relationship.

So Steve takes Eddie's hand and leads him over to the couch where they both sit facing each other. They don't let go of each other's hands.

"I know you're probably wondering why I haven't told you... why I haven't said it yet."

Eddie's eyebrows disappear behind his fringe. "It?"

Sighing, Steve watches his fingers run over Eddie's knuckles. "You know. That I love you."

"Oh."

It's hard to place Eddie's tone, and even harder to place the silence that follows, but it makes his knee jiggle with nerves and his stomach churn. Usually it's Eddie who tends to fill the silence between them when it feels too big, too heavy, but today it's Steve.

"It's not because I don't want to, I swear. It's just," another frustrated sigh, the hand currently not held by Eddie's rubbing over his face, "I just can't say it. And I am so, so sorry, because you deserve to hear it. Every day. But I can't... I can't. So I understand if you don't want to do this anymore. You deserve better, Eddie. You really, really do."

Eddie lets Steve's words settle between them, aching and raw, but he never lets go of Steve's hand.

"You're right," he finally says, and the sound of Steve's heart breaking is deafening to his own ears. Pinching his nose, he tries to take his hand back from Eddie, but his boyfriend (if he can still call him that) won't budge. "You're right about me wondering, Steve. But that was before."

Looking up, a frown forming between his eyebrows, Steve asks, "Before?"

"Before I realized that you do tell me that you love me, every day. You say it when you tiptoe around the trailer in the morning to make breakfast without waking me. You tell me every time you pack an extra blanket or sweater when we go to the quarry because you know I always get cold. I hear it loud and clear every time you bring me lunch, even though it means you waste most of your own lunch break driving around town. It's in the way you try so hard to make Wayne like you because you know how much that means to me, and in the way you hold me after another nightmare, and in the way you kiss me sometimes like there's nothing in the world you'd rather be doing, without it having to lead anywhere, just because you like kissing me."

Eddie scooted forward and bridged the gap between them by taking Steve's face in his hands.

"Steve, you've been telling me you love me for months with everything except words. I don't really need them. It's just a four-letter word."

And, fuck, now Steve is crying. Eddie wipes away his tears with his thumbs, and when that's not enough, he kisses them away with his lips.

Steve is so in love with him that he has no idea how the feeling even fits in his body.

"Damn," he chuckles wetly, "that means I didn't even have to find a crutch?"

Now it's Eddie's turn to look at Steve in confusion, clearly worried that his boyfriend might have lost his mind. "What crutch? Is this a sex thing?"

Laughing and shaking his head fondly, Steve raises his free hand to his head, palm facing Eddie. Then he brings his thumb, index finger, and little finger up, keeping his ring and middle fingers down, before moving his hand back and forth slightly.

"Robin came up with this. She said if I couldn't say the words with my mouth, maybe I could say them in a different way. I thought of trying sign language," Steve adds sheepishly.

Before he knows what's happening, Eddie is on top of him, pressing him into the couch with his body weight and showering his face with kisses.

"You're so smart," kiss, "and beautiful," kiss, "and wonderful," kiss, "and I love you so much." The last part is accompanied by a lingering kiss on his lips and Steve melts under it.

Even though he obviously didn't have to tell Eddie this way, Steve is glad that he did.

He also thinks it won't be long before he can say those words, too. If anyone can help him walk without a crutch, it's Eddie.

#steddie #steddie fanfiction #steddie fluff #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddielovemonth #day 27 #love is just a 4 letter word #my writing

[nerdofspades]

Danny is on the run (reveal gone wrong, Vlad went too far, or GIW gaining brain cells, take your pick) and he makes his way to Gotham, the only place he can reasonably hide.

He's injured, scared, and cut off from all his resources, so he's been squating in a rundown half abandoned apartment somewhere, waiting to be healed enough to start trying to figure out something more sustainable.

And it just so happens that this place is where Jason sets up his first safe house when he returns to Gotham to become Red Hood, kill the Joker, and beat Bruce over the head with his failures.

Obviously, because Danny was squating, no one was really able to warn either of them about the other.

So Jason literally walks into the apartment with bags of essentials (including many guns) and basic furniture on the way and the first thing he sees is a half feral teenager in filthy ragged clothes, bundled in thread bare (and just as dirty) blankets just. In the corner.

Now, dirty or not, the kid is obvious Wayne bait. (Sure Bruce had only taken in three at this point, but three is a patern.) And Jason might be pit mad, but he is not kicking out a starving kid that looks like he's waiting for Jason to literally kick him. Not when he knows what it's like on the streets. Not when he knows this kid could wind up in the manor.

So he just. Moves in around him. And makes sure there's enough food for both of them that night. And the next.

He isn't adopting the kid. Definitely not. He's got revenge plans to deal with but... he's not heartless either. Kid can come and go as he pleases, but if he can provide a safe place for him to sleep and some warm food he doesn't have to steal, then he's going to.

On Danny's end. He knows there's something sketchy about this guy. He smells like shit, and he got this crappy apartment, but he also clearly has money? All the furniture is pretty clean and new (though it's all generic and nothing fancy). And of course. All the guns. Hard to ignore that part.

Danny really shouldn't stay anywhere near him. Not safe. (Not for either of them if who ever he's running from catches up and this guy shows up on their radar.)

Hell. This guy should know better than to let a total stranger hang out when he's planning something that requires that many guns.

But all he does is tell Danny he can stay and to not touch the guns.

And then he feeds Danny.

And gives him a spare key.

Neither of them speak to each other for weeks.

Danny is well enough to move. But he doesn't want to.

So he doesn't.

He comes and he goes. But he doesn't leave.

(It's a bad idea. He should leave. But. Maybe there's safety in numbers.)

And then things start shaking up. Black Mask's lieutenant are dead. Someone is starting a gang war.

But no one can figure out who's leading it. No one knows what gang.

Danny sees his... live in acquaintance come back to the apartment injured.

He sees more guns and more ammunition.

He knows it's not a gang.

Not yet.

They still don't talk.

Not until Red Hood comes in through the window one night, and Danny grabs the first aid kit and patches him up without asking any questions.

He makes the first step and tells Hood his name. Only his first name. His last isn't useful anymore.

And they talk.

They share some stories.

Edited. Half true stories.

And they talk through some stupid shit.

But eventually. They stop hiding behind half truths too. It only takes so many times covering each other for the full story to spill.

In for a penny and all that.

Jason convinces Danny he should finish his schooling.

Danny convinces Jason that maybe the new Robin isn't a part of his problems.

Jason doesn't drop his plans for revenge. Or stop blaming Bruce.

Danny refuses to go to a public school, but allows for online schooling.

Jason gets Danny a new name. A new identity. He needs one for school.

Maybe he did adopt the kid after all.

Jason really hopes Bruce never finds out.

Of course Bruce finds out.

#dp x dc #danny phantom #dc comics #jason todd #red hood

[jasmines-library]

Hi! I think you said that you would write for Cassandra? If you don’t it’s fine and feel free to ignore this <3

I used he/him pronouns but if you don’t do male readers you can make it gn! :)

Here we go.. So the reader is 12 and younger than the rest of the family. He is a child weapon like cass and Damian. Actually he is Cassandra’s little brother, he was made solely on defeating Cassandra after she escaped. He also has electricity powers and is as much as good of a fighter like Cassandra. So he is sent on a mission to destroy or eliminate Cassandra or another family member but the batfamily stops him. Somehow they knock him out after a hard fight and put him in a. Cell or somethin. They find out he is Cassandra’s bio little brother and are determined to help him. So they talk to him when he wakes up or something and cassandra is like really clingy and protective of him so he reluctantly stays.

If you can, can you show some snippets or short story of his interactions with others and how he is adjusting to his new life in the manor, (he also gets to be a vigilante along side them.)

BROTHER MINE

Summary: Male Reader is a child weapon with electricity powers, created with the intent to kill Cassandra after she escaped, though when he tried to take her down and he gets caught he ends up with much more than he bargained for.

Warnings: Kinda child abuse? (It's a child assassin), violence. Nothing explicit or graphic

Word count: 2.1K

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

Cassandra Cain was the sole reason for your existence. Almost as soon as she left you were dragged away from your mother kicking and screaming to begin your training. Sandra feared it would happen at some point. Cain had taken her daughter, it was only in due time until he would take her son. 

Although you were older than Cass when she began her training, they still made you ruthless. They pushed you until your legs were trembling and the only thing that crossed your mind was the art of assassination. You didn’t speak anymore. It was forbidden. This meant that the parts of your brain normally used for speech were trained so you could read your opponents movements to predict their next move in a fight. You remember your mother telling you once that they did that to Cassandra too. It was one of the only things you did remember from what little of your childhood you had before it was ripped away from you. Your training was not much different from your older sisters, though your father had made one thing clear. In order to beat her you had to be better than her. So he pushed you further than he had ever pushed anyone before until something in your brain began to change and you discovered a newfound ability to manipulate electricity. They had made you into the perfect tool; smart and powerful but submissive to the right people. You were a weapon with one mission. Kill Cassandra Cain. 

You roamed the streets of Gotham, mask pulled over your face. Your time had finally come. After years of waiting your father finally found an opening on Cassandra and had sent you into the city to meet her. You had been warned that she was with Gotham’s infamous vigilantes and you had deemed it a welcoming challenge. As you walked, boots scuffling along the floor, you couldn’t help but feel that there was something so utterly wrong about this. You had pursued your sister before without a second thought, but now as you grew older and more wise about your actions a part of you buried deep within your teachings couldn’t help but feel as though you were doing the wrong thing. But you dismissed the thought very quickly, honing in on your surroundings as your training kicked in. 

You could see them now. The five of them perched on a rooftop, just above a bright billboard advertising an expensive brand of clothing. The two eldest seemed to be keeping a watchful eye over the city, even from down on the street you could see the way their heads turned and their bodies tensed up when they thought they saw something. The other two boys seemed to be having a scuffle behind them as they jested between each other. And then there was Cassandra, donning her black and yellow suit. She surveyed silently, leaning against the brick wall of the entrance to the building’s exit staircase. She was on edge, and rightly so. 

You moved silently through the building and up the stairs as though you weighed nothing more than a feather. You hugged the walls, moving swiftly to avoid being detected by any of the blinking red sensors and alarms. It was child's play really; something you could do in your sleep. 

The door to the rooftop was locked when you tried to ease it open gently, so you brought up a spark of electricity to your fingers to fry the circuit so that you could then open the door and slink onto the rooftop without anyone noticing. 

The youngest two vigilantes had since stopped their bickering and were now also surveying the skyline, but your dear sister still hadn’t sifted from where she was before you entered the building.Perfect. 

Moving silently and agilely you ran towards Cassandra and grabbed her roughly from behind. She went down with a cry of alarm but was quickly moving again, flipping you off of her before you even had the chance to think about conjuring up electricity. Her shout had alerted the other four, who quickly came rushing to her aid, weapons readdied as they charged towards you. Nightwing swung his escrima sticks at you, they crackled but you caught them one handed and sent him staggering back so you could move for the next attack. Despite the fact that you were heavily outnumbered, you managed to hold your ground extremely well by maximising your small frame and use of training to slip around them and send them to the ground. The heroes were well trained too though, and the scuffle was tiring for all of you. 

With a flick of your hand, you sent Robin flying across the roof skidding to a stop when he hit the brick wall. Finally you had managed to get rid of the obstacles in your way and could focus entirely on your sister. You turned, manoeuvring your body to land a kick to her chest but she ducked and rolled out of the way before trying to grab your ankle and pull you down to the ground. The two of you fought intensely, neither of you making much progress besides landing the odd lucky punch here and there because you were both able to predict each other's next move. Though eventually, you managed to make a false move and grip her wrists which allowed you to flip her over your body. Once you had her pinned underneath you, you began to conjure up the strength to finish your mission, but something stopped you. She looked up at you with wide eyes, one word slipping from her chapped lips.

“Y/N?”

You froze. 

At some point during your fight with her, your mask had fallen from your face without you noticing, and now she could see exactly who you were. And now your name had fallen from her lips accompanied by that look of recognition, you were stuck still. And one moment of distraction was all it took for one of the other vigilantes to regain their senses and land a heavy blow to the back of your head. 

~

Cass was quiet. More quiet than usual as she sat on the other side of the cell, peering at you from the other side of the bars. There were a million things running through her head all at once and she was struggling to process them. You were alive. You were an assassin. You had tried to kill her. It was a lot to handle. Dick seemed to notice as he glanced up at her from the computer. 

“You okay, Cass?” He frowned, worried for a moment that she was injured more than she let on, but Alfred had checked the five of them over and assured that everyone had escaped with nothing more than a few scrapes and bruises. 

She nodded, biting the inside of her cheek as she thought. Dick made his way over to her, sliding down on the bench and eyeing you up. You were still unconscious, Tim had hit you hard with his staff. 

“He’s not gonna get you, Cass.”

“No.” She shook her head, fiddling with her hands in her lap and completely avoiding his gaze. “It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“He’s my brother.”

Dick had to stop his jaw from dropping completely. “What?”

“I-I thought he was dead. They told me he was dead and now he’s…this is my fault.”

“Slow down.” He told her as the others had started to approach. 

“What’s going on?” Damian asked.

“When I was still living with my father…sometimes my mother would stop by. She seemed cruel too, but she had this tenderness. She knew I was just a child. I suppose I was too young to remember everything, but I remember her telling me stories of a little boy. My brother. Y/N.” She gestured to you. “My father wasn’t supposed to know. Whenever she stopped by she would show me pictures of him and tell me how no matter what happened I must keep him a secret…but I guess my father knew because now he is just like me.”

“Oh, Cass…” Someone placed a hand on her shoulder. 

“A few nights after I escaped, I stopped by my mothers house in hopes of at least seeing him. But he was gone. And instead I found my mother clutching a bloody sheet. I assumed he was dead. But this is so much worse.”

“We can fix this, Cass. We helped you, we can help him.” Dick told her. He understood that what you did wasn’t your fault and that you were just a scared little boy following orders.

She hummed, watching as you stirred before snapping upright on high alert from the moment you woke up. 

You were confused for a moment when you awoke on a small cot in the corner of a cell, but then it all came flooding back to you. You almost immediately noticed the power suppressing cuffs on your wrists and secure bars on the wall. Cursing, you noticed the group of people eyeing you from the other side of the room and instead of staring daggers silently at them like you were taught to do, you began to break down.

The hot, thick tears that cascaded down your face were alien to you but you made no move to stop them from falling. Cassandra furrowed her brow at your demeanour as she had fully anticipated an aggressive reaction.

“s-sorry…” You rasped out. Your voice was so hoarse from not using it for so long you were surprised that you even remembered how to talk, even if your sentences lacked half of the words they needed. “They m-made…”

Cassandra moved closer towards you, ignoring the protests that Jason made. She crouched down near you and studied you. 

“I thought you were dead.” She whispered. 

You recoiled slightly, surprised that she even knew you existed. You shook your head meekly, interacting tenderly with her and going against everything you had known, but despite that it felt so right.

“Oh…Y/N. I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

“N-Not fault.” You stuttered back. 

“But it is-” She protested. 

“No.”

When one of the other boys approached the cell, you moved back hesitantly. 

“It’s okay.” Cass told you. “You can trust them.”

“We can help you.” Tim said. “If you’ll let us?”

“ c-can’t stay. Father-”

“He won’t know you’re here.” Dick told you. “We’ve kept Cass safe, we can do the same to you too.”

“Please, brother…” Cassandra insisted “Let me make this up to you.”

After pondering a moment, you reluctantly nodded. “Okay.”

BONUS:

Inspired by this image:

Cassandra had not seen you all day and as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she was getting worried. When she returned from patrol, she had peered into the room that Bruce had given you, only to find it empty. She then checked in the cave to see if you were there, but all she found was a weary Tim and Jason who had been sparring. She asked around, but neither of them had seen you either. 

She was on the verge of panicking as she made her way back to your room to double check, when she heard chatter coming from Damian’s room. It spilled underneath the door with the light into the hallway. She knocked before pushing it open to a most peculiar sight. 

You were sprawled out beside Damian on his bed, with a book in hand. He guided your finger across the page as you read, helping you as you tried to decipher the words on the page.

“I-It…vuh? Vuh…Vuh-uss? It vuss? No.” You shook your head, screwing your face up as you scanned the page. Damian sat patiently beside you. “Was!” You grinned. “It was!” 

“Yes! Well done.” Damian smiled slightly. “keep going.”

“What are you doing?” Cass interrupted, making the two of you jump. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“Sorry…” You muttered. “Damian teach me to read.”

Cassandra raised a brow. “The demon spawn is doing something nice for once?”

“Tt. No.” 

“Sure looks like it.”

“No. No. it’s for everyone’s benefit. How is he supposed to become a vigilante if he can’t read? Hmm? He needed to learn, so I decided to teach him. No one else was going to do it.”

“Are you sure it’s not because you just wanted to do something nice for once?”

Damian’s cheeks flushed. “No. Of course not.”

Cassandra shook her head. “Keep telling yourself that, Dames.”

#writing #batfam x reader #batfam x brother reader #batfam x little brother reader #cassandra cain #Cassandra cain x reader #dick grayson x reader #dick Grayson #dick Grayson x brother reader #Tim drake #Tim drake x Reader #Damian Wayne #Damian Wayne x Reader #Jason Todd #Jason Todd x Reader #nightwing #nightwing x reader #red hood #red hood x reader #Robin #Robin x Reader #red Robin x reader #red Robin #fluff #found family

[heartfullofleeches]

Clown Talk

Yandere Crime Harem + G.N Clown TV-Showhost Reader

-

Extortion. Aggravated Assault. Murder.

The list went on for the royal who had it all, and lost almost everything in one night.

A well respected and charitable figure in their community, it was a shock to the masses to see local casino owner, and frequent donor to hospitals framed on the five o'clock news for misconduct. Anyone with a good head on their shoulders and a realistic outlook on the world could see straight through the facade. Beneath that mask was a monster - every good deal that person ever committed a cover for their true goals.

Those they had helped plead their innocence. Those they had wronged tied their noose. The documents leaked to the public would tell which party was correct, wiped clean from history before the victor could be declared. Read aloud in court, each word marked a new trial at play. The execution of the rat bastard who got them into this whole ordeal in the first place.

The criminal know exactly who it was. Caught his hand in the cookie jar resembling their safe weeks ago, but they had enough of a heart to let him go for being the one person his little girl had. Not again. Day in and day out they dreamt of how they'd carry out their revenge. Splattering his brains all over the wall. Slicing him into cutlets and having a nice cookout for everyone involved. It was a beautiful dream. The one thing preventing the compete lost of their sanity. Shouldn't be too long now until their people manage to get them out and their hands around that bastard's neck. Only a matter of time-

"Quit mumbling to yourself- I can't hear the TV."

As if this hell couldn't get any worse. A desaturated rainbow flies across the television screen, showering an empty field with stars and hearts that sprout colorful flowers from the earth. The theme song for the show plays in the background; the strums of each guitar string and the voice humming along to the beat drilled into the criminal's head like psychological warfare. While the voice wasn't totally abysmal it still belonged to their greatest enemy. That fucking clown.

"Good Day, everyone! I've missed you all so much, and am so excited to meet all the new faces. Are you ready all for an exciting day of fun and new adventures?"

The few shouts of agreement make their ears bleed more. Needless to say the prison they had been thrown in was a shit hole. Terrible food, hard beds, and televisions that only played one station without interference. That neon haired, colorblock mess of an entertainer had haunted them from day one of their stay; the sounds chasing them whenever they fled to the sanctuary of their cell. Pathetically, while there were a couple naysayers, majority of the prison population had begun to actually like the show. A body hurls into the seat next to them.

"Thank fuck I didn't miss it. You staying this time, Zero?"

Zero's face wrinkles from the frown lines. 4D was a fellow intimate and the biggest fan of the show. A crook booked for various robberies who just like Zero was ratted on by an acquaintance. The nickname came from their tag including the number fourty and they thought it would be cool in unison with the one they forced onto Zero.

"I told you not to call me that."

"I get that you're some big hot-shot and "adults shouldn't be watching shows for kids.", but it's really good when you sit down and watch it. That clown ain't too bad on the eyes either."

Zero resists the urge to snap their fingers as they air quote. "I'd rather flush my head down a toilet."

"Come on! If ya watch it, I'll leave ya alone for the rest of your sentence."

That catches their attention. Armz crossed, Zero looks at the television. The set had switched to that of a kitchen as the clown speaks

"Juno has been feeling better down today, let's cheer him up with his favorite snack! Before we begin, make sure you always ask for an adults help when handing sharp objects or using the stove. Unless you are one yourself. "

With a wink, they throw an apron and go through the steps of making homemade rice treats with the audience. After putting the tray in the oven, they discreetly pull out another one with a full sheet of the treats already made. Marshmallow fluff and melted chocolate chips ooze from their sides as the clown cuts out a heart shaped piece with a cookie cutter.

"And there you go! A simple, fun activity you can do with family and friends, and even get something taste out of it. Juno prefers chocolate, but you can add a number of things to your own and let your imagination run wild."

Great. Now they were annoyed and hungry. They couldn't stand another segment.

"I'm leaving."

4D whines. "Whaaat? That was barely anything. Hey, don't go-"

They grab Zero's sleeve, but are powerless to stop them as they leave the common area and venture up to their room. Over the guard rail of the second floor, they watch the other inmates mindlessly crowded around the television screen and unironically enjoying it. They would've spat at them had it not been for the guard by their cell. Inside the room, their roommate had left the tv on and that same damned show was playing. They go to turn it off only to be cut off by a fake cry of pain.

"Ouch!"

The clown tumbles to the ground, figure looming over them off screen. They come into frame as they grip the clown's arm and helps them to their feet.

"I'm so sorry, Y/n. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It's okay, Juno. I know it wasn't on purpose."

The two face the screen as the clown speaks.

"Sometimes our friends do or say things that hurt our feelings. Take a breath, hear them out, but there's one important rule. Remember - forgiveness and friendship aren't always mutual. Sometimes people we may think are our friends go too far, and they believe an apology will make everything okay, but that's not always the case. The best thing you can do is forgive - and let go."

The background music is soft. The clown's smile is sincere, but an offshoot of that silly expression they had moments ago. Forgive. That weasel? There's no way in hell they could. He ruined them. Damaged their imagine. The bitterness Zero held was the only thing that pulled them forward. But what would come after they got their revenge?

"That's all for day, folks! And don't forget- you all may be my helpers, but I am here to help you the most!"

The intimate ends up watching the show until lights out. Each episode holds a new life lesson, cushioned by the silly activites prior to them and the songs the clown and their friends sings at the end. Regrettably, Zero finds their lips twitching upwards and a hushed laugh in their chest at some of the clown's jokes. When the clown visits them in their sleep, the dreams didn't seem as bad as before.

The next day Zero finds 4D in the yard. They're hesitant to speak.

"So... Why exactly do you like that clown?"

4D drops the equipment in their hand, looking flustered. "Wow, uh, why do you ask?"

"Just curious. If it's so embarrassing, I can make it worth while."

4D refuses the cigeratte they offer. "I quit. It ain't nothing serious like that, we just... talked."

Zero raises a brow. "Talked? You some kind of nutcase or something?"

"Maybe, but what I mean is I sent them a letter. After all the rush and freedom of the things I did, I was going mad in here. I got no friends, no family. At the end of every episode there's an address so I thought I'd try and send them a letter. I never expected them to respond. Hell, I thought the guards would tear it up and laugh, but neither of those predictions were true. They... helped me. More than anyone ever had in my life. Even sent me a couple things when I hadn't asked. They're all I have."

4D wipes their face with their sleeve. Zero, unsure, raises their hand to their shoulder, but falls short of a comforting touch.

"..Thanks... Take care."

Zero sits in their cell when the next show comes end. They pen down the address on the screen, wondering if they were really going to go through with this. They write out their letter and hand it off to the only guard they trust.

"What do you do, when you've lost everything."

A response comes in a week's time.

"Hey, there!

First off, I want to say thank you for sending your letter in. From the address and the others I've spoken too, I know that you're going through a really tough time. It's understandable to believe you've lost everything, but there will always be a new ladder to climb to the top so long as you try your hardest. You may be in the dark for now, but the sun will shine again for you some day."

Zero loses track of how many times they read the letter. They can see eraser marks from when the writer rewrote their lines. It was the exact same penmanship as when the clown wrote their name on a drawing they had just finished, clearing out the possibility of it being an assistant on the show. Zero crumples the envelope and throws it in the trash, but tucks the letter under their pillow.

When they are released the following month, they're found sitting in front of the community television.

-

"Sunshine's beautiful this time of day, isn't it?"

"B...oss, I'm sorry, please."

Zero takes another drag of their cigar as his head is dunked into the freezing waters. The silence makes the scenario one for the books, but for some reason the sun just isn't as bright as it was on those dirty screens. They exhale as the bruised male is brought out of the sea once more.

"I forgive you, and now I'm letting go." They wave to the others on the boat. "Drop him. I don't want to be late for the show."

-

Arriving at the studio, a whiny voice drills from behind them.

"Aw, man- you got front row seats? Switch with your ol pal. Its the least you can do since I introduced you to them."

#Clown reader #yandere oc #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere insert #yandere scenarios #yandere blurb #yandere x darling #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere drabble

[pikahlua]

Wait pika do you really mean don't ask you about predictions? Some of my favourite Tumblr posts of all time are your thoughts, theories and predictions! :((

Please sleep also, but when you can let us know what's going on in that head of yours. I'm desperate for someone with a brain cell to discuss this chapter! (Twitter is a cesspit)

I mean, you can ask lol. I just sometimes get these vague "any predictions?" asks and it's like, YES. YES I HAVE SOME. BUT IT'S FAR TOO MANY TO JUST LIST LIKE THAT, CAN YOU PLEASE BE MORE SPECIFIC?

Okay, I'll tell you about my thoughts.

This is a new frame of the scene in chapter 1. This perspective doesn't exist as a drawing in chapter 1, but we know pretty easily what this scene was about. Why is Horikoshi putting the scene here though? Why does this scene have the line "Let go of One For All"? Why not draw Kudou saying it, or Izuku's reaction to it? Is it because this is a memory of the scene where Izuku receives OFA, so giving OFA up is coming around full circle to this moment again?

I don't think so.

This is not the moment where All Might proclaims "you are worthy of inheriting my power" and Izuku looks up in shock. This is the moment where All Might says the words Izuku has longed to hear his whole life: "You can become a hero."

We're coming back to this moment now because the emphasis is on Izuku's upcoming choice. This is about the MEANING Izuku places in OFA. All Might told Izuku "you can't become a hero without a quirk," then shows up to tell Izuku he can become a hero...by giving him his quirk.

To Izuku, letting go of One For All is sacrificing his greatest dream. He believes by giving up One For All, he can no longer be a hero. Even though there have been moments where All Might let on that the reason Izuku deserves to have OFA is because he's already a hero, Izuku never seems to internalize that answer. He thinks his heroism is tied to being the bearer of One For All.

No one has ever told Izuku he can be a hero without a quirk.

I said before I had a big guess about why Katsuki's memory was wiped at the end of Heroes Rising. Notably, he is allowed to remember most of what happens. His memory cuts off from the moment Izuku passed One For All onto him. Do you remember what Katsuki said after he got OFA?

"This is the end of your dream then, too, huh?"

That's the last thing he ever says on the matter. Sure, it's the moment where Izuku answers with "It's okay if it's you" and all that, but Katsuki never responds to that. We don't know what he's thinking about this moment.

The only clue we have is the fact that he accepted the quirk from Izuku, and how he reacted to that. He seems quite upset by the prospect, but in the end he relents and accepts OFA willingly.

Perhaps the issue he is grappling with in his heart in these moments is not the fact that he has to inherit OFA but that Izuku has to lose it. Which means...the reason he loses his memory is because his reaction is important. It's a moment we will have in the manga, which makes it a spoiler.

We've never heard Katsuki tell Izuku what he thinks of quirklessness now. All he's ever told Izuku is that way back when, he thought it meant Izuku was supposed to be beneath him. He doesn't even tell Izuku why he felt like somehow Izuku was actually above him.

He's also only ever told Izuku his actions were correct ever since he received One For All, nothing about before.

I think Katsuki's reaction to Izuku losing OFA--which could come before the final battle or after--will have to be about his feelings regarding Izuku's quirklessness. I think Izuku is going to be incredibly hurt by losing One For All because he'll think he has lost his dream, and Katsuki is going to have to set him right, because only Katsuki knew who Izuku was before he had One For All. All Might is the only other person who had at best a glimpse of Izuku.

I think Katsuki has been coming to terms with just how special Izuku is, how heroic he always has been, and that he's the only one capable of acknowledging it in a way Izuku will be able to hear because he knew Izuku before he got One For All. I think he's been grappling with this possibility ever since DvK2.

And I think he grapples with it again in Katsuki Bakugou: Rising.

In the same way Izuku saw something great in Katsuki that he wanted to cling to so he could see what Katsuki would one day become, Katsuki has always seen something great in Izuku, which awed and scared him. Their greatest divide was in not knowing what greatness the other saw in them. Katsuki has to tell Izuku what Izuku is to him.

Katsuki has to tell Izuku the words he's always wanted to hear, that he can be a hero, quirk or no, that Izuku always has been a hero, more than anybody else. Katsuki knows the truth of it firsthand.

#anon ask #ask pika #my hero academia manga spoilers #final arc spoilers #my hero academia heroes rising spoilers #izuku midoriya #katsuki bakugou #meta #theory #bakudeku

[stinalotte]

Happy 19th Birthday, Stargate Atlantis!

On July 16th, 2004, the pilot aired. Here's a handy little primer for anyone who doesn't know what the heckity heck this show is about. Everything is totally accurate, 100% true and very, very serious.

So.

This is the lost city of the Ancients, Atlantis, in the Pegasus galaxy, about 3 million light years from Earth. (The Ancients can go fuck themselves. Long story.) Atlantis is a city/spaceship approximately the size of Manhattan. She's semi-sentient, but not really, except actually yes, maybe, sometimes, totally. The whole city can go underwater or into hyperspace. Loves her humans. Home. Declaration of independence imminent.

The Atlantis expedition consists of civilians and military from at least 34 countries (in later seasons, the original expedition was just over a dozen). In no particular order:

Dr. Elizabeth Weir. The first leader of the expedition. The only adult. Sometimes. Okay, not very often. Is not above a little war crime for the good of the galaxy—or at least, for the good of Atlantis. Left a boyfriend and a dog on Earth, but we all miss the dog more than the boyfriend. Eats UN representatives for breakfast. Is terribly awkward on dates and really good at solitaire. Loves her chaos children. Which are:

Lt. Colonel Suicide Mission John Sheppard. Walked through the Gate and Atlantis said, "dibs". Thinks people who don't want to fly are crazy. Not good with emotional stuff. (He's getting better.) Loves his found space family and would die for them, often literally. Stop that. Also loves Ferris wheels, things that go fast, and Rodney McKay. And no, we don't know how he gets his hair to go like that.

Dr. Meredith Rodney McKay. Four degrees, two of which are PhDs, none of which are in social skills. Smartest man in two galaxies. Used to be an asshole, but got himself some friends who loved him such a stupid amount that he had no choice but to change. Still a work in progress. We love to see it. Blew up three quarters five sixths of a solar system. (It was uninhabited.) (Mostly.) Deathly allergic to citrus. Loves fully charged ZPMs, arguing with Dr. Zelenka, MREs, and John Sheppard.

Lieutenant Aiden Ford. Went ass first through the Gate with a grin and a whoop on his very first trip. One of the youngest members of the expedition. Is not allowed to name anything, ever. Mild case of hero worship when it comes to his commanding officer, which is totally understandable. A cautionary tale of how addiction messes up not only you, but the people around you.

Ronon Dex. Used to be hunted by the Wraith, lost his people in a terrible war, and is now a member of Sheppard's team where he gets to shoot things and beat up bad guys. Doesn't talk much, but when he does, he has something to say. Good friend. Excellent hugs, but have Carson check you out for any cracked ribs after. Is one bottle of Athosian wine away from staging an intervention regarding the Sheppard/McKay situation.

Teyla Emmagan. In possession of the team's one brain cell. Leader of the Athosian people. Will rock a baby to sleep and then go outside where a Wraith is dangling from the highest tower of the city and stomp on his hands until he falls 800 feet. Can either beat you up in the gym or force you to meditate on your problem, your choice. Has the aforementioned bottle of wine ready and loaded.

Dr. Radek Zelenka. Keeps the science team sane because Rodney sure as hell doesn't. Loves pigeons, cursing in Czech, and overseeing the thriving black market underground economy that has developed in the city. (Thanks @shaddyr for that lovely headcanon). Zachránil všechny naše zadky víc než jednou.

Chuck the Technician. Aggressively Canadian. Doesn't have a last name, doesn't need one. Is ALWAYS in the control room, seriously man, when do you sleep? Reads trashy sci fi novels on night shifts and organized a betting pool in 5 different currencies when Ronon was fighting Teal'c. Needs to share his eyelash routine because we're jealous.

Dr. Carson Beckett. The most Scottish Scot to ever Scot. Brilliant medical doctor who is not above the occasional unethical unorthodox treatment method. Sweet cinnamon roll of a man. Beloved by all. Loves his mom and wee baby turtles. Someone should take him fishing soon. 🥹

Colonel Samantha Carter. Member of SG-1. Legend. Awesome. Boss. Absolute BAMF. Punched a Goa'uld system lord in the face once. We all have a crush on her.

Dr. Jennifer Keller. Is very doctor-y, for better and for worse. Was all of us when she freaked out being on an alien planet for the first time, like a normal person would. Should totally have gone on a date with Captain Vega in that one deleted scene. [WE COULD HAVE HAD IT AAAAALL]

Jeannie Miller. Rodney's sister. Gave up a career in science to be a mom. Solved Rodney's math problem in her spare time, with finger paints. Loves her brother even when he's being an idiot. Fanfic canon says: her house is always open for him and certain Air Force Colonels to crash in. Don't you dare get a hotel room. Yes, the guest room has Only One Bed, Mer, what's your point?

Major Evan Lorne. If you are a moron and get yourself captured and imprisoned off world, he will swing by real quick with a couple Marines and bust you out. Co-parents Atlantis with Dr. Weir. Is actually a really talented painter. Needs a raise, a holiday, and a drink.

Colonel Steven Caldwell. Grumpy. Has to deal with Elizabeth's chaos children on a regular basis. Will make the enemy ship go away with a big boom and save your sorry ass in space. AGAIN.

Richard Woolsey. Used to be a New York City lawyer, one of the most ruthless creatures in the universe. His wife got the Yorkie in the divorce. Broke his heart. Is actually pretty cool if you let him do his thing (like get you out of an intergalactic war crimes trial by bribing the judges).

I know some characters and all the villains are missing, but this post is already longer than a trip on the Daedalus, so there you have it.

Stargate Atlantis. A show about wormholes, life-sucking aliens, ancient civilisations, space battles—and family, friendship, allowing yourself to love and be loved, and what it means to be home.

Happy birthday, fam.

#stargate atlantis #happy birthday #sga #found space family #elizabeth weir #john sheppard #rodney mckay #teyla emmagan #ronon dex #aiden ford #samantha carter #look I can't name them all

[chrissturnsgirlll222]

second, never first

part eleven | part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten |

PLEASE READ WARNINGS

chris x fem!reader

summary - you grew up hating one guy all of high school but suddenly become friends, but as time goes on feelings develop, only its one sided.

warnings - swearing, kissing, use of y/n, mention of family issues, mention of domestic violence (NOT BETWEEN THE MAIN COUPLE), BOYS (no smut… for now lol)

word count - 2k+

a/n: this part of the story contains a scene involving domestic violence so please dont read if that is a topic that triggers you! also this part is taking place 2 weeks since the last. also i made it a little lengthy for you all <333

NOT PROOFREAD

-

i was fast asleep when i heard a crash from downstairs over the show i have playing to fall asleep. instantly getting up i slipped on a robe and slowly walked to my steps.

growing up in the house hold i did meant i had to be in constant fight or flight. i stood at the top of my steps with my phone in hand. looking down at it, the time reading 12:34.

“you need to learn to keep your fucking mouth shut, i am threatening you and your daughter. ever try to leave me and i will have both pf your heads.” i heard my dad yell from downstairs, my mom sobbing. common occurrence from my house hold.

“mom” i say my voice cracking up as i walk down stairs. “y/n go the fuck upstairs now.” my dad screams standing over my mom as shes sitting on the floor with both hands on her cheek as if she was just punched and her throat red. i knew my parents argued all the time but i never saw them get violent.

“i will do it.” holding my phone up i type in 911.

“sweetie you know i would never be violent, your mom just needs to be talked to like a baby since she has double left brain cells.” he switches up his tone.

“now i wont repeat myself, go to your fucking room.” he growls.

tears pool in to my eyes as i turn around.

my vision gets clouded with tears as i make my way to my room. immediately breaking down once i get to my room. feeling scared in your own house is one thing but feeling unsafe is another. i cant trust either of my parents to keep me safe anymore.

turn on my phone i call the one person who i can trust with my life, chris.

ring ri-

“hey kid whats up.” he answers. i dont say anything as i am hyperventilating, crying and shakily breathing trying to calm myself down. “y/n?” i hear him say, “chris” is all i can reply and i am sobbing on the other line of the phone. “where are you?” chris asks in a concerned tone, “i- im home.”.

“whats wrong why are you calling?” he questions. “i cant- i cant be here.”.

“im on my way kid, give me a second here ok?”

“mhm” i reply.

he hangs up and i slowly take deep breaths. im not one to cry often but after school the other day ive been crying for 2 weeks straight it feels like. i dont know if chris would mind but i start frantically packing a bag with clothes and things i need for tomorrow morning. i cant be here in this house with them.

i knew in the back of my mind i shouldn’t leave my mom alone but i just couldn’t bear to hear any more crashes or slams now that i know things have gotten physical.

i sit on the floor in front of my door still sobbing as i just started and me and chris’ texts waiting for-

wednesday 12:57am

chris: here

waiting for that.

i open my window not caring to be quiet as i slip through it. sliding it shut and carefully climbing down the stairs of the treehouse my father built for me when i was a baby. probably the only thing ill ever be grateful for from him.

i wipe my eye and nose trying to compose myself while walking up to chris’ truck. opening the back door first and throwing my bag in to the back seat and then making my way to the passenger side. climbing up to the seat and buckling myself in. a few tears still streaming from my face.

“y/n what happened.” chris asks in a quiet tone. the question making everything flood back in to my head and i breakdown again. i bring my hands up to my face and cry into my hands. “it cant be that bad kid whats wrong.” he says with concern. “its worse.” i reply. “can we p- please go to your house. i- i cant be hear any longer.” i ask through choked sobs. “of course.” he puts the truck in drive.

the drive is quiet, the sound of my crying and heavy breathing being the only sound coming through the vehicle.

we get to his house and he immediately gets out and goes to grab my bag from the bag and then opening my door. i sniffle and smile at him thankfully.

once i enter his house its fully of joy. warm lighting and happiness filling the walls. i stand in the door way shivering as im in a big shirt and sleep shorts with sneakers on in the middle of winter. chris comes in after me with my bag over his shoulder and closing the door behind him and locking it. “cold?” he smiles and i nod rubbing my arms.

i look around his house for a minute, “cmon” he nods towards the stairs and we start walking up them to his room. we get to his room door. he walks over to his bed turning on the white led strip lights he has and walks back to the door. “hey go sit down kid ill be right back.” i nod in response and walk over to his bed. “hey y/n is gonna sleep here tonight.” i hear chris say, his voice is muffled slightly and i hear matt and nick ask “why?”.

“i dont know she just called me crying and she wont speak, i think something happened at her house.” he replies and walks back in.

going to his closet he grabs a hoodie and tosses it to me, “thank you.” i sniffle and smile putting the hoodie on immediately feeling warmer. he walks over to his bed crounching down in front of me.

“talk to me kid, what happened?” he asks softly, “was it your parents?” he adds. i close my eyes as streams of tears flow from them. my not answering was an answer for chris. he bows his head down shaking it and letting out a breath. “how bad was it?” he looks up at me.

“bad enough for my mom to be crying on the floor with a bloody nose and a bruised neck.” i reply and wipe nose. chris’ face fills with concern as i cry into my hands.

he takes my hands and removes them from my face starring at me with my runny nose and red eyes. i move to stand up and he does the same, “chris im sorry i shouldnt even be telling you th-“ i am paused with his arms coming around my head in to a hug. i melt into his touch burying my face into his chest and hooking my arms under his. i hold on to him for dear life and sob.

“im sorry.” i keep repeating as he hugs me. “stop it. none of what happened is your fault ok? your dad is a piece of shit stop apologizing.” he comforts as he gently rubs my back. the world goes quiet as i hold on to him, everything seemed to do that when i was with chris. i pull away still holding on to his arm “chris you have no idea how grateful i am for you.” i smile fiddling with his fingers. he smiles and kisses me, “shit sorry. bad timing, im awful.” he blurts as he immediately pulls away putting his hand up to his forehead. i wipe my nose again, “its ok. never apologize for that.”

our friendship as of now felt different. we are best friends that are fake dating but occasionally kiss when no ones around. i want to ask him what this means but im afraid it will ruin what we have. so i stay quiet as he leans into me again. i go on my tip toes and grab either side of his face into a long sweet kiss. pulling apart we both sit down on his bed and get under the sheets inches apart.

both of us laying face up but chris is on his phone.

thinking about my night i wonder what i would do without chris. having him as my best friend was the biggest blessing i could have asked for. even though i was enduring the roughest two weeks of my life chris always managed to to make my rocky world a still calm path.

as i think about him i instinctually move closer to him wrapping both of my arms around him. “whats this for?” he asks looking down and me and raising him arm for me to come in, as i can hear him smiling in his voice.

“i just am in l-, i just love you so much you are the only thing that helps me constantly.” i correct myself. he chuckles and shuts his phone off grabbing his tv remote. turning on a show on a low volume and shutting off his leds.

with his free hand he slips it under his hoodie thats on me and lightly starts scratching my back. i hum at the feeling closing my eyes. “that feel good?” he says in a quiet voice. “mhm” reply lightly nodding my head thats buried in his shoulder now. the low hum of of the show playing, my comfortable position cuddling with chris, plus my exhaustion and his hand scratching me made my tired eyes even more intense.

i fall asleep happier than i was an hour ago and its all thanks to chris.

chris pov

the feeling of her breathing against my side is more calming than anything i could describe. her fragile body is fast asleep on me with her leg over mine and her arms around my neck as i continue to lightly draw shapes on her back.

i cant believe what she endured tonight let alone it being a normal occurrence for her parents to argue. she told me about them fighting before and she always said it got intense but i have never seen her this emotional. i feel happy knowing that she can trust me in such a vulnerable state.

she hums in her sleep nuzzing her head impossibly closer to me and i just admire her as she does so. i just wish our current situation could be more than it is but bringing that up would change everything and commitment to another person is like holding a new born. you have someones full trust and life in your hands never knowing if their going to fall out.

ill take what i can get as we are closer than we have ever been tonight. watching her sleep is the most beautiful thing ive ever come across.

her dark hair lays out on her back as i can smell her vanilla scented shampoo that she told me was way to expensive for what she would normally pay. my hoodie that fit her in the most adorable oversized way. her sleep shorts that are peeking out from the covers that slightly show her skin. and her cold finger tips against my neck, the feeling of them almost lulling me to sleep.

i continue to scratch her back even though she is already asleep and kiss the top of her head which i wouldn’t have the courage to do if she was awake.

“im so in love with you kid, i just have fear of making that real. it would ruin everything. i just wish you were awake for me to tell you, but it would be selfish to take you as mine you have so much love to give.” i mumble whispered against her head just seconds before i fell asleep

-

thanks for reading xx

taglist: @sleepysturnss @blahbel668 @alorsxsturn @w4nnabeurs @junnniiieee07 @waydasims @matthewloverr @bitchydragonparadise @matthewsturnioloswifey @iloveneilperry @stunza @realuvrrr @jennss23 @tubl-mc @lilsstvrn

a/n: pls send thoughts in the comments. also i know this is a heavy topic to cover so my dms are open if anyone needs to talk. love you all🩷🩷

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x y/n #christopher owen sturniolo #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo angst #matthew bernard sturniolo #matty b sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo angst #nick sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo fanfic #spotify #sports #smut #sturniolo fluff

[cairavende]

My wonderful girlfriend got me Gideon the Ninth for Christmas and I realized why should I just give Worm recaps? Let's read some Locked Tomb! (We'll see how this format works, maybe I'll adjust it. Specifically might break stuff down into smaller segments instead of full acts, but I didn't think of doing this until after I had read all of act 1.)

Gideon the Ninth Act 1 (chapter 1 through 8) thoughts:

This book is so gay oh my god

Like, it's gay in ways I can't even explain. I love it.

Harrow beats the shit out of Gideon in chapter 2 and I don't know if I've ever seen someone get beat up in a more gay way.

"Oh Griddle! But I don't even remember about you most of the time." ROLL A FUCKING DECEPTION CHECK HARROW! You are saying this standing in the middle of the field you spent all night burying bones in just to foil her escape in the most dramatic way. You can't stop remembering her.

Gideon is the most herbo of herbos. I fucking love her. I love reading her PoV. She just knows punch and stab with sword and if those don't work than she'll just do them harder.

Also Gideon is SO fucking gay. Dear god. Dulcinea faints and Gideon turns off all though. HELP PRETTY GIRL. Nothing else.

Ok I could just make this whole thing "EVERYTHING IS GAY" but there is technically more than that.

I love how weird everything is and how little explanation is given. I don't want pages of exposition, I want to learn the world as it comes at me! This is perfect.

And just the very nature of things that seem weird not being given more than a passing thought in the book is information. Something may seem wild to the reader but it's so normalized to the characters that they wouldn't even think about the idea of it being different.

Lack of explanation also helps really show how much of a meathead Gideon is. Do the readers get to learn details about this thing? Only if it is a weapon, has tits, or Gideon is forced to listen while Harrow explains it. Otherwise no, why the fuck would Gideon spend her precious few brain cells on thinking?

And even if Gideon is forced to listen as Harrow explains it, the readers might not learn much cause Gideon might stop listening. I love her.

Aiglamene is wonderful. Crux is fine but I like her more.

Poor Gideon just wants a big sword that she can swing hard. It's not like she can't use a rapier. But why when she can go big sword?

SO MUCH CATHOLICISM

As someone who once was Catholic and then realized I was actually not a straight man, but instead a lesbian, I am in deep.

And the fucking slang used! Or whatever would be the right term. The shit they say! I love it. Just the weird sci-fi far future space necromancer universe and then suddenly "Are you asking me to . . . throw her a bone?", "Gideon had always known that this would be how she went: gangbanged to death by skeletons.", "Don’t hypothetically shove stuff up my butt again, it never does any good.", "Lo! A destructed ass.", "Well we were developing common sense, she studied the blade.", "Double Bones with Doctor Skelebone."

House of the First appears to be Earth. I kinda assume the House of the Ninth is Pluto, even though things obviously aren't in order given that the Seventh and Sixth are closer to the sun. Of course, I'm kinda expecting this to not technically be this solar system at all.

Undying Emperor, King of Resurrection, I Have Ten-Thousand Titles, Boss First, etc etc hasn't been on "Earth" in over nine thousand years. I wanna know MORE.

And the fucking Ninth House has their own prayer! Everyone else has one that the Ninth didn't know and then the Ninth had one that no one else knows! GIMME MORE!!!!

Also again, so many Catholicism metaphors or comparisons or whatever!

I could go on forever but gonna end this one with OH MY GOD SHE FOUND SUNGLASSES I LOVE HER. Fucking "I came prepared, my sweet." and "But then you couldn't have admired . . . these!" as she whips on the sunglasses. God. I nearly died.

#The Locked Tomb #tlt #Gideon the Ninth #Cairavende reads The Locked Tomb #Gideon Nav #Harrowhark Nonagesimus #Dulcinea Septimus #This might be the most lesbian thing I've ever read and I've read some pretty fucking lesbian things #Dulcinea might be my favorite so far