#some fandoms just never leave you. they just add a turtle. looks off into the distance. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

crawlspacefics · 5 months

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If it’s okay, i’d like to ask 4,5 and 17. And if you want 21.

Thank you for asking! Now let's see...

4. What piece of media inspired you the most?

Fanart. There’s an extremely creative fandom out there, and I’m lucky enough to be able to virtually orbit some incredible artists who spark creativity and inspire me to add to the collective in my small way.

5. What fandom(s) did you write for this year?

Sailormoon. It’s 2023 and it’s still the only fandom I’ve posted anything for.

17. What were your go-to writing snacks?

Coffee! Decaf more often than not. When I’m writing at a cafe, I usually go for something cold, like cold brew with sweet cream or something that looks more like a milkshake than a coffee. If it’s my favorite local place, I’ll throw in an egg and cheese biscuit. When I’m at home, it’s usually hot with a bit of flavored creamer. (Of course coffee is a snack…)

21. Share your favorite piece of dialogue

This one is tough and I’m going to cheat a bit in a couple of ways.

Favorite that’s posted, because this was just fun:

After a deep breath, Pluto put on a social smile and spoke evenly, “Hello. I’m aware this is going to sound odd coming without any context, but I need you to put that creature down and move away quickly. Please.”

Kaya huffed. “Really?”

A small sigh escaped Pluto’s lips. “This is a complicated matter that I lack the time to explain, but very much need to resolve. Again, please, I need you to…”

“Okay, look,” interrupted Kaya, taking her finger from the kirkri and ignoring its protesting squeak. She then held her hand up in a stop gesture. “I’m not going to judge the cosplay. We like dressing up sometimes in the mystery club, too, so I get it. But there is a line, and running around in costume at 10 at night chasing harmless critter to play out your anime battle fantasy kinda crosses it.”

Pluto’s eyebrows rose. She crossed her arms, letting her staff rest casually against her shoulder as she observed the kirkri grow more agitated because it couldn’t pull back Kaya’s finger. With a slightly amused half-grin, she returned, “I’m not going to argue with you because, quite frankly, we don’t have time for it. In about 30 seconds that ‘harmless critter’ is going to start shooting off sparks. It will then grow to more than twice your height and attempt to steal away all of your life energy, leaving you a gray, empty husk.”

Kaya’s mouth dropped open. “You… you really need to lay off the Saturday morning cartoons. Being part of the anime club is all well and good, but you’re a university student, for pete’s sake. And was that a dig at my height?” Her indignance showed as she stood a little straighter. “I may not be an Amazon in heels, but I am by no means sh… huh, what the…”

Favorite that isn’t posted yet (because I love Outers Family Stuff):

The glass door sliding open brought Setsuna back to her present situation. Haruka, her hair a bit tousled and the t-shirt covering her blue, turtle-print boyshorts a bit rumpled, dropped down into the chair across from her. She took a long draw off her coffee before sighing and leveling her gaze at Setsuna.

“I rolled over this morning and came face-to-face with a miniature human calling me ‘Haruka-papa,’” she said flatly. “When I planned out our date night yesterday, that was not how I was supposed to wake up.”

Setsuna chuckled. “‘Setsuna-mama’ did throw me off a bit when I first heard it. But Hotaru seems quite pleased with it given how many times she’s repeated it this morning.”

Haruka huffed, a corner of her mouth turning up and an amused glint in her eyes. “You have no idea what you’ve actually done, do you? Whatever this new evil is we’re fighting, it’s nothing compared to Michiru when she’s made up her mind she wants something.” She laughed, the sound cheerful in the morning breeze. “She’s never letting either of you go ever again.”

A tiny knock on the glass caused them both to turn around. Hotaru pressed her hands and face against the glass, as though she were peering at them from a great distance. Then she giggled and called out loudly so she’d be heard through a door she’d been told not to open on her own, “Haruka-papa! Michiru-mama says to come get the first pancake!”

With a chuckle, Haruka rose from her seat. “Glad to see my place hasn’t been completely usurped.” She opened the door and ruffled the toddler’s hair before the girl ran out to Setsuna.

Climbing into Setsuna’s lap, Hotaru sat facing her. “May I have tea?” she asked, reaching for the cup in Setsuna’s hands before she had an answer.

Holding the cup a bit more firmly, Setsuna let the girl place her hands over hers and helped her take a sip. She grinned at the little grimace and the way Hotaru’s lips smacked before she hissed out “hothothot.”

“Maybe we can find you something else in the kitchen,” suggested Setsuna.

Hotaru nodded, then placed her hands on Setsunan’s cheeks. “Thank you for coming to get me. I was happy to see you, and I’m going to enjoy my new life.”

Setsuna blinked in surprise. Then just as quickly as the clarity had appeared, it was gone. The girl smooshed her mama's cheeks in circles, laughing mightily at the way this made Setsuna’s lips purse.

“You come get pancakes, too, Setsuna-mama,” said Hotaru as Setsuna gently stopped the child’s play. “Michiru-mama cut up a banana for me. I bet she’ll do one for you.”

“That would be very nice,” answered Setsuna as she rose. She lifted Hotaru and settled her on her hip, realizing belatedly she didn’t have enough hands for both teacup and teapot. At least Haruka had left the door open for her. She could come back for the teapot when it was time for a refill. Before taking Hotaru inside, she glanced one more time over the city.

Just a little longer.

Favorite from a repost (because I love this Minako):

Artemis squinted against the sudden burst of artificial light that engulfed the room. When he could see again, Minako was quickly rooting through a pile on the floor. She emerged triumphant with a duffle bag and proceeded to immediately begin filling it with clothes.

“Mina, what are you doing?” asked Artemis, sure he wasn’t going to like the answer.

“I’m packing,” answered Minako as she continued to fill her bag. “I suggest you do the same thing, if there’s anything you want to bring with you. I don’t know if we’ll be coming back.”

“Where do you think we’re going?”

“To Rei’s. Don’t ask silly questions.”

Artemis sighed. He understood her wanting to do this, but had to at least try and talk some logic into her impulsiveness. “Running away isn’t going to solve things, Mina,” he said gently.

Minako paused in her frantic packing. “I know, Artemis,” she said quietly. “But it can’t make things much worse. Don’t you understand? This isn’t my home anymore. Rei is. And Fate can’t wash your back if you don’t give It any soap.”

“Mina?”

“Setsuna told me once that nothing happens by accident,” explained Minako. “Fate set up everything so we would become Senshi when we were supposed to. And Fate gave me Rei. I have no doubt that on my 20th birthday, I’ll be able to stand beside her, regardless of what happens between then and now. That’s Fate. What happens in the three years between then and now, though, that’s up to me. If I’m supposed to be somewhere else, then that’s what will happen. But I refuse to just sit by and let everything happen to me without at least trying to fight for what’s mine. I’m going home, Artemis.”

#sailormoon fanfiction #2023 in review #asks and answers #crawl's fics

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bay-did-nothing-wrong · 3 years

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The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly (Donnie x GN!Reader)

Synopsis: Donnie’s first fight with his S/O. And it's brutal.

Genre: Angsty af, no happy ending

Word Count: 2126

Mood-setter: Mary J. Blige - Be Without You

Georgia Ku - Ever Really Know You

a bit on the nose but idc

Notes: 1) Just wanted to add some nuance to the fandom, the boys may be “different” but they’re still people, flawed like the rest of us.

2) I see this as a part of the Tell All cannon, so this could very much be treated as an unofficial continuation of that, but you can read it as a standalone too.

3)Inspired by this

Enjoy!

It had been almost two weeks since you’d last spoken. It was torture, but you knew it was necessary.

Leo had formally asked you to stay away from the Lair, avoid calling or texting if you could, because the thing they were working on was far too important and required all of their full and undivided attention. You remember looking longingly at the lab entrance, trying to object. Donnie would probably think you’re avoiding him, he’d be hurt, you couldn’t just leave one day and completely ghost him.

But at the end Leonardo’s intimidating presence had won out, he convinced you to play along. And when you asked what would happen if he called or texted you, he just responded with an ominous-sounding “I’ll handle it.”

Two weeks now, you’ve not heard his voice going on about some invention or other, or some theory he had. You haven’t seen his face in person, or talked to him in any manner, haven’t hugged or kissed him. Was he eating well? Was he sleeping at all? Was he tense and burnt-out or was he relaxed in his own odd hyper-focused way? Was he hunching over again so much his back hurt? Was he taking care of himself? You didn’t know.

You’d never thought being away from him for two weeks would impact your days so much. Your previous partners hadn’t all been monsters, some were relatively decent people you’d had a good connection with, and yet never had you felt such a profound sense of isolation after being away from them for a relatively short period of time.

You were constantly distracted, off some place else, and it seriously impacted your work and your studies, in fact, you’d nearly been laid off that one time in week one when you’d abandoned your station because thought you heard his ringtone and ran to the employee’s locker just to find no missed calls. You were missing class, not skipping, missing - you were physically there, but were otherwise some place far off.

You still hadn’t heard the go ahead from Leo, so until further notice, you were locked out of his life.

But you still had one way in without breaking the rules.

April.

Your conduit to the Lair.

She was probably super busy too. She was a journalist in what is one of the most turbulent times in recent decades, but you reasoned with yourself that you’d only take up a couple of her minutes.

You weren’t great friends with her. You’d never gone on spa days, or shopping sprees or lunches together, to be honest you were only friends because of the turtles, and the only reason you had her number was in case of an emergency. She was intimidating as fuck, all gorgeous and confident, and always equipped with the right answer and a one-liner to go along.

20:26

Is it too late to call?

She’s definitely not asleep, you two have stayed up the nights at the Lair multiple times, and you seemed to be the only one who had an issue with it.

But what if she’s at work?

She can’t be at that time, right?

Fuck it.

The line was open, it was ringing and still your anxiety didn’t seemed to go away even slightly.

“Hello?”

She didn’t know who it was. She hadn’t saved your number.

“Uh, hi, April, it’s (Y/N).”

“Oh, hey, how have you been?”

That’s the thing with her, even if you were jealous of her EVERYTHING, and super intimidated by the way she behaved, you could never truly hate her, because she was just too nice.

“Uhm, I’ve been okay...” technically not a lie, there was a point when you could classify as “okay”, but let’s get to the point, “Hey, listen, I wanted to ask you something. A-about the boys?” God, could you sound any more uncertain?

You fiddled with your lifted hood, that you’d put on to hopefully protect you from the rain of bad news, even though you were indoors.

Liveliness and hearty laughter could be heard all around her like she was in a closed space with extreme reverb.

“...Oh, and some mozzarella sticks too!” Was that Mikey?

“Wait, hold up.” she mumbled, immediately afterwards supposedly covering the microphone, and then - soft thumping.

Somewhat reflexively you hung up. Though, you don’t remember doing it, as your soul seemed to leave your body to make space for the sharp spades of an army of thoughts.

So she was down there? Why? Was she not included in the ban? Was she not a distraction too?

No, she’s an investigative journalist, she could actually help with what they were working on, she wasn’t just gonna sit there and be a burden.

Mikey sure didn’t sound very stressed, like you would after a two-week investigation, but that was just him. What about the rest of the voices you’d heard? Sure, you didn’t necessarily hear Donatello, but the rest of them sounded pretty animated...

Yeah, they’re not working 24/7, dipshit, they can rest every once in a while, like normal people do.

Okay, okay, I can just call and ask...

No, that’s what started this in the first place! I’ll just go in there, now that I know they’re taking some time off and just ask myself. Best way to clear a misunderstanding is by addressing it.

You don’t quite remember putting on a rain coat and boots, you don’t remember getting your keys and phone, and you don’t remember trudging through the streets in the rain, but, quite honestly that whole day was fairly muddy in your memory.

Jump over the fencing before the entrance, down the stairs and into the safe cover of the Old City Hall station and down the tunnel towards Broadway.

For once, you didn’t stop to admire the gorgeous view of the night sky through the skylights, the bright mosaics looked colorless, as their extravagant, intricate designs blurred together in a suffocating yellow fog.

It’s fine. Nothing bad is going to happen. Sure, you’re breaking your promise to Leo, but you’ll ask him to forgive you, you are just worried for his brother. He’ll understand.

“I’ll handle it.” what had he meant by that?

He could not have possibly taken ALL of Donnie’s means of contacting you, Leo didn’t know enough about tech to restrict him. Maybe he just didn’t want to call?

Or maybe, he’s not obsessed with you as you are with him. Maybe that’s just a healthy boundary he’s trying to keep.

Good on him.

And then there’s that one metal panel of the build, looking exactly like the rest of the structure, especially with the dim lighting, but you knew better. On the side on the panel was a smaller sliding panel, with a pass code input under it.

07/15/16

The day of the Kraang invasion. The day you and Donnie met.

The heavy metal panel slid to the side, letting you in to what was hopefully going to be a calm adult conversation.

Immediately, the smell of freshly ordered takeout and some some loud beat hit your senses.

Maybe that’s just how they work.

You didn’t need to step any further through the threshold, as Donatello happened to be walking by.

And immediately, the difference was tangible.

The small relaxed smile on his face fell into a shocked frown, his eyes widened, back and shoulders straightened, tense, as if ready for battle.

Maybe he’s just surprised to see you.

“Uh... hey?” you weren’t expecting much, more, but somehow that hurt.

“Hey.” you caught yourself nearly whispering, so you cleared your throat hoping, the nerves will go away too, “Can we talk?“

From where you were standing, you could see the rest of the family and April, Casey, and Vern. Seems like you were the only one not invited.

“Sure.”

He seemed nervous as he stepped out to get closer to you.

You briefly saw something pass through your vision and it was Leonardo, who through his ever-cool facade seemed to be upset. What was he upset about, everything seemed fine with them?

“What’s up?”

No hug or kiss hello, no warm smiles, he even stood a distance away from you.

Maybe he’s just tired.

“Uhm, not much.” you didn’t get all the way down here to talk about your day, and deep down you kind of knew that, "So, you finish that job?"

"What job?" his brows furrowed, eyes squinting lightly in confusion, he was genuine.

Maybe I didn't phrase it well.

"That big and important one that Leo said would require your undivided attention?" you elaborated, still hoping to conceal the real reason for your visit.

"Oh, uhm," and then he started avoiding eye contact, and took a minuscule step back, "not-not yet, no."

Lie.

"Okay." you nodded, he must’ve had a good reason to lie to you to your face, "Well, I just came to ask if you were okay." still avoiding your eyes, shrinking in the frame, he was ashamed, but what was he ashamed of, "I was worried."

"Yeah, we're good."

But the dam was cracking quickly under the constant rain, small leaks started running through the cracks.

"Why are you lying to me?"

That seemed to shock him into attention, as he stood up to his full height now finally making eye contact, eyes wide, chin low - defensive.

"What are you talking about?" he objected, but for naught, you know him.

"I've seen you lie, Don. I know how it looks."

You sounded defeated, like you'd already broken up. All you wanted to know was why.

"There's no big mission, is there?" you tried to keep your voice from cracking by raising your voice slightly, "Did you make your brother lie to me too, or was it a collective decision?"

Not like you could salvage your relationship with the rest of the clan now, but just out of curiosity, morbid curiosity perhaps, you wanted to know.

Still no response. He was just completely quiet. Defiant in posture but not in words, he was making no effort to fight your accusations. And that made you so viscerally angry.

Keep it together, his family is watching. Don't make a scene.

"You have nothing to say to me? Really?"

Keep it together.

"So this is how it ends then? With you just ghosting me like I don't exist?"

And then he looked down, hands locking in front of him, lips pursed - holding back.

And that broke the dam.

"No, you're NOT shutting me out, Donnie!" your voice cracked at the rapid shift of pitch and volume he seemed startled too, but fuck him at that point, "Not like this! Not after everything!"

"What do you want me to say?" he screams back, you seemed to have got through to him for a short bit.

"Fucking anything, Don!" your arms were gesturing wildly as if trying to fight off your own invisible demons, as you tried to keep the tears at bay, though you seemed to be failing at both, "A text to tell me were breaking up would be better than this!"

"Yeah and then I would be your dick-ex who broke up over text."

"Oh, but it's completely fine to hang me out to dry then?!"

"Like you would accept no for an answer."

And that fucking hurt. Was he just saying that to hurt you or was it true?

Donatello may be kind and quiet 98% of the time but he was truly vicious in a fight. He knew where to hit to cause pain.

"The fuck are you talking about?"

"This whole time we've been going at your pace, you never asked what I want."

That's not true. Is it?

"Then why didn't you say anything?"

"Would you have cared?"

"Yes!"

"Bullshit!"

No, that's not true, that was a lie too. Right?

"So, this is all my fault then? You ghosting me?"

"You're shocked by this?"

Speechless, you stood there, blurry eyed, and shaking.

He still refused to give you answers, just asked more questions.

That broke you.

"Fuck you." seething like a snake, he deserved even less, you refused to look at him anymore, you just ran.

You ran until you couldn't breathe, or was that because you were crying?

Once you reached the stairs up to Town Hall, you crumbled onto the old tile. You just knelt there and cried, until you felt you'll turn to dust if you shed any more tears. You managed to push yourself against a wall, the cold mosaic tiles doing little to bring back the warmth in your life, as you tried not heave under the soft yellow gas-like lighting.

This was all a massive mistake.

A huge, stupid, ugly mistake.

And one you'll pay for dearly.

tagsgsgsgs:

@shadow-ninjas @exovapor @turtle-babe83 @tmntspidergirl @mikeyshulagirl @mysticboombox @remmushound @forerunnertracer @aurora-the-kunoichi

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girlofprey7 · 3 years

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Why Apritello works/doesn’t work:

a short analysis and essay about April and Donatello’s overall dynamic and development in the 2012 show.

Apritello as a pairing is a pretty damn controversial topic in the TMNT 2012 fandom, and with good reason. Some fans may dislike or be against April because of her apparent rudeness or ungrateful nature towards everyone’s favourite brainy turtle, and Donatello may be thrown under the bus for his questionable and quote on quote ‘creepy’ behaviour towards April in the earlier seasons. Because of these observations, it has lead many fans to believe that relationship is unhealthy, toxic, and even going as far to call it emotionally abusive.

Today, we’re going to be looking at WHY fans may come to that conclusion, while also trying to look at the positive and promising sides of their relationship, in order to work out if their relationship works or not. We’ll be going through the moments where both sides have shown signs of toxicity, as well as signs of respect, trust, and love.

Also I just wanna say that this is my personal opinion, and though I am trying to fully consider all points from both sides of the argument, if you don’t agree with my overall thoughts, that’s perfectly fine. Just please keep your anti posts out of the Apritello tag where us fans can’t see them.

First we’ll be starting off With the Crusher himself, Donatello.

Let’s look at his examples of his toxic behaviour first:

He did follow her around New York in Target:April O’Neil. I may love Donnie, but I’m not going to deny that this decision was wrong, nor am I going to make excuses for him. He should have given April time to come to terms with herself, instead of following her and pushing her further over the edge. This was not a good thing to do, and while I wouldnt call it whole heartedly toxic, it was highly disrespectful of April’s space.

He tried to close up on her face when he was watching her with Metal head on the roof top. This is also highly disrespectful of April’s space, and could also be considered quote on quote ‘creepy’. There’s not much to say about this scene since it was pretty short, but all I can say is that he didn’t attempt to do it again after April called him out, though it still wasn’t respectful of him to do.

He got really jealous whenever April got remotely close to Casey, or when Casey got close to April. This is only in season 2 and maybe early 3 as far as I can see, but Donnie really didn’t do well whenever Casey was around April. He tried to pull them apart aggressively from hugging in Chinatown ghost story, and would constantly childishly fight and bicker with him for April’s attention. This is definitely an example of possessive nature, but I wouldn’t call it controlling nature as well, as he never outright insulted her or judged her for hanging out with Casey, he just bickered and fought with him.

Ok, so currently that’s all the So called toxic behaviour I can think of that was in the show, but maybe I’ll be able to find more examples that people use once I watch more of the series again.

Now, let’s move on to April’s purely Toxic behaviour in the relationship:

She stopped any chances of Donnie communicating his feelings or their relationship to him. The main example being in the invasion when she silenced his confession, while nervously saying that it just makes things hurt more. While her motivation behind this behaviour is still up for debate, I won’t deny that she should have tried to listen to what he had to say first, as well as try to communicate her own emotions better with him too. This is an example of miscommunication, and bad communication between a pair.

She would often get annoyed at him when he tried to help her or protect her, like in the Kraang conspiracy when he told he he’d protect her in the fight, and she responded with, ‘protect yourself,’ in a frustrated tone. She could have told Donnie that she didn’t need his help and that she could take care of herself politely, but she made a bad choice with her words and tone. This is an example of lashing out, without thinking of the partners feelings first. But this not completely count as emotional abuse.

She yelled at him, blaming him for losing her Crystal in Bats in the Belfry. This WAS partially caused by the fact the Crystal was controlling part of her emotions and actions, but it was still a hurtful thing to do to Donnie, who was trying to be patient with her throughout. This is an example of ungratefulness towards your partner, as well as lashing out and not considering their feelings first. Again, this is a bad thing to do either way, but I’ll have to look at her other instances in order to determine whether it’s truly emotional abuse.

(I don’t know whether her not actually outright telling either Casey or Donnie how she felt should be considered totally toxic behaviour or not, so I’m just gonna leave it as a half point for her lack of responsibility with the triangle.)

She doesn’t always appreciate him, or show her appreciation when he does something nice for her. This may be connected to number 2, in which when he would attempt to protect her or help her with something, she would sometimes respond in a stubborn and annoyed manner, not being fully appreciative of his help.

Ok, so again, this is all the so called toxic behaviour that fans usually seem to bring up while talking about The relationship, but this is also all the instances I remember her displaying in the series, but if I think of any more examples that people use I’ll add them.

(Also the claim that she may have been making mixed messages is connected to number one if you were wondering.)

Now before we move on, I just want to say something real quick. I love Apritello. Yeah it’s got it’s flaws, but I mostly blame the writers for that, and not the actual characters themselves. Hell, even with the problems I think it was pretty well written for an action show overall.

Also, I’m not trying to decipher which one of the pair had the most toxic behaviour, or who was the problem in their relationship, since both April AND Donnie have done things that I don’t agree with. I’m just trying to figure out whether the good on both sides, outweighs the bad on both sides.

So now, we’ll be looking at the pairs examples of respect/support/love/and trust.

Starting with Donnie:

When he comforted April when she was infected with the gas in Fungus Humungous, he never tried to take advantage of her fearful state, and instead just wanted to make sure she was Ok. This is an example of respect and support towards a partner, and not attempting to further your chances of being with them. Though Donnie still has his undeniable love for her (yes and at this point I’m pretty sure it passed crush territory), he is still able to treat her as a friend and comfort her without the motivation of getting with her.

When he followed April in mutagen man, though it was undeniably a bad thing to do, when April chewed him out for it and said without hesitation, ‘I never want to see you again,’ he felt guilty and remorse for it, and stopped doing it after that. He didn’t follow her again, knowing she needed space after the incident with her dad. This is what separates him from being a stalker. A true stalker would know what they’re doing is wrong, feel absolutely no remorse or guilt for it, and continue doing it even when he is told to stop. Donnie felt guilty and bad about it, even though he didn’t necessarily know what he was doing could be considered wrong, and stopped doing it. This is why he isn’t a stalker, and also shows his respect for April’s space and feelings.

When he gave April a music box in A foot too big, (yeah you knew I was gonna talk about this episode eventually) she acted uncomfortable with his forward ness, as well as the fact that he said nothing the whole time and the box was another obvious ploy to start something between them, showed by the picture of him inside, as well as the heart on the front. After living with big foot, he realised his actions were uncomfortable to her, once again felt guilty and remorse for it, and apologised to her at the end of the episode. He respected what she felt, and was willing to sacrifice his happiness for her. He stopped his behaviour after that and became more chilled and subtle with his crush. Sure he still bickers with Casey like the episode after, but I think that’s just their dynamic/relationship more than it is them fighting for April. My point is, he improved as a person because of HER.

He trusts April to make her own choices and shape her own path and goals in life. An abusive or toxic partner wouldn’t approve of your goals or chosen path, and would instead attempt to steer you away from them in order to change who you are. Donnie however supported April on becoming a kunoiche, and becoming a capable fighter like him and his brothers. He wasn’t at all threatened by her improved growth or skill, nor did he feel the need to put her down or make her weaker just to make himself feel more important. Hell, he even laughed with pure happiness when she took out Tigerclaw with that badass kick, showing that he loves what she’s become, and loves the path she’s made for herself.

He always allows HER to make the moves of affection, and never forcibly kisses her or hugs her without knowing she’s ok with it first. Again, this shows he respects her personal space as well as her wants in the relationship.

He knows when she’s gone too far, and though he does call her out on it, he still does it respectfully. Like the arc with the Aeon crystal and was acting out. He knew the Crystal was making her act that way, and wanted to help her overcome it instead of pretending that it wasn’t a problem. I have more to say on this particular point later, but I’ll wait till I find more prominent examples.

In the Gauntlet, when she broke down after her dad got captured for (I think) the second time, when she went to him for comfort, he comforted her and promised her that they’d get him back. Just like with the first example, he wasn’t trying to take advantage of her state to get with her or anything, he just wanted to be there for her, and make sure she was ok. Not as a romantic, but a friend.

He helped calm her down when she was mad at Shinigami after being beaten, telling her to not let her get to her, therefore calming her down. This is a sign of support of the others feelings and trying to make them feel better.

(This is more of a good thing on both sides as well as just something I find funny and endearing) they both bicker with one another in a banter sort of way. Remember the ‘bait doesn’t talk back’ and the ‘real kunoiche on our side?’ . He may be crushing on her, but that still doesn’t mean he’s not gonna blurt sassy facts at her and bicker with her. He still aknowledges that she has flaws, but as we’ve constantly seen, he still loves her flaws and all.

He apologised and took responsibility for his mistake with the transmitter at the end of eyes of the chimera, trying to make April feel better by even bringing her a hot beverage after the fiasco. This is a sign of looking out for the other and owning up to your mistake that may have hurt them.

Now let’s move onto April:

She apologised to Donnie personally for holding the grudge, and thanked him for sticking by her even when she was mad at him. She wasn’t thanking him for following her or anything like people may think, just thanking him for still being patient and kind with her. Also, while she was holding the grudge, she remembered what he had told her in Target, ‘some things are just beyond our control’. Which may have had a partial role in helping her come to her senses again.

She ALWAYS calls Donnie whenever she’s in trouble or in danger. I’ve seen this labelled off as codependency or her taking advantage of his feelings, but I see it much differently. In my opinion, this shows how much trust she has in him to save her, and help her whenever she needs it.

It was her memories of Donnie that helped her break the control of the Crystal. Donnie unconsciously motivated her be strong enough to defeat Za Naron and break her corruption. She broke through it, and became better, because of him.

She tried her best to get through to him TWICE in the Dream beavers episode. She was gentle and careful with him all the while (well apart from when she was slapping him to wake up, but that was when she was desperate). She was almost always seen by his side, and was close to panicking when he stopped breathing. And as soon as she found out he was Ok, she kissed him. Not for gratitude, not because she needed to make him feel better, but because she was happy he was ok.

When Donnie got injured in Monkey Brains, she told the guys off for teasing him, and was the only one to help nurse him back to health, being gentle and kind with him throughout.

She calls him out on his behaviour when she knows he’s doing something wrong. A lot of people see it as a bad thing when she tells him off for his poor decisions and behaviour, but I see it as a thing their relationship needs. A toxic relationship would most likely have both partnered not aknowledging the bad things that either one has done, and pretending it didn’t happen, or just be uncertain with telling them off. April doesn’t do this with Donnie. She aknowledges when he’s doing something bad, and call him out for it. In Target, she did t sugar coat it or stay silent about Donnie following her. She told him that he was doing something wrong, regardless of his intentions, and that he had to stop and respect that she needed to be alone right now. And like I said, he backed off and never did it again. And again, he improved, because of her.

She got mad at Casey for laughing at Donnie when he was stung badly on Dreggs planet, and was the one to help him back to the ship to be healed. When she knew he was ok, she kissed him again like in In Dreams, simply because she was happy he was Ok.

In Of rats and men, when Donnie told her that they had this covered, she responded with, ‘you always do,’ while smiling warmly, and with him smiling back. Romantic or not, this again shows the amount of respect and trust they have for each other. April instead of insisting she help or stubbornly barge back in, simply showed a sign of trust with him, knowing that had faith in him, and his brothers. This scene alone just shows the trust they have in their friendship, romantic or not, and that’s one of the things that makes them work in my opinion.

In the end of eyes of the Chimera, when Donnie apologised to April for using the transmitter on her, she wasn’t upset with him at at all. She’s said she was glad that Donnie used the transmitter on her because it allowed her to access her powers and learn to use them more. She tried to see Donnies mistake in a positive light, and appreciated him for his help nevertheless. This is an example of appreciation towards a partner, and aknowledging that their intentions are good and seeing them in a positive light instead of being disappointed with them.

For my final words, I just want to put in what the most common definition of an abusive/toxic relationship is.

In my definition, it is any relationship between people who don’t support eachother, where there’s constant conflict, and one often seeks to undermine the other, where there’s competition and disrespect, and most importantly, degrade and become worse as people just by being with one another.

And as far as I can see within the examples I’ve listed, both Donnie and April support each other throughout everything bad that happens to them, any conflicts that befall them they manage to get through, and have never purposely sought to undermine or hurt the other.

I want you to look at that last sentence again, and ask yourself: did April and Donnie grow as people or become better with overcoming their problems by being with one another? Because in my opinion, that’s how you really separate a toxic relationship from a good one.

So as for the question, are Donnie and April toxic or healthy?

Well, in my opinion, they DO work together, and their relationship is NOT abusive or toxic in any way shape or form. Both Donnie and April, though they had their flaws in the beginning, unconsciously and consciously helped eachother become better versions of themselves by being there for eachother throughout the series, as I have illustrated with the majority of my points.

And that my friends, is pretty damn FAR from abusive. In fact, that’s pretty much the complete OPPOSITE of abusive.

#tmnt 2012 #analysis #tmnt 2012 april #tmnt leonardo #tmnt apritello #healthy relationships #toxic relationship #reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

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writings-of-a-daphodil · 4 years

Text

Best Friends

Zuko x fem!reader

Summary: You stayed with Zuko in the Fire Nation and when he gets a little jealous he realizes he likes you, his best friend.

Requested?: Yes! This was inspired by a wonderful anon's request:

Love that you are taking requests, I’m so excited! Could you possibly write a jealous Zuko of Y/N, potentially best friends to lovers kind of thing, maybe when he is fire lord? Would love to see what you would do with something like that 😁

I hope you like it!

Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender

Requests are open!!

A/n: If y’all couldn’t tell by now, I suck at thinking up titles.

“What are you gonna do now, Y/n?” Aang asked as you looked out over the party with the rest of the group. You were the only one who was undecided about their plans after the war, but now that you'd had some time to think, you knew.

“I’m staying here,” you announced, smiling at Zuko. He gave a small smile back as you continued, “There isn’t anything left for me back home since somebody *cough* Zuko *cough* burned it down.”

He frowned at you. “How many times do I have to apologize for that?”

You considered the question. “Oh, I don’t know, forever?” You chuckled. “I don’t mind though, it led to me meeting my best friend.”

Zuko smiled again as you gave him a quick hug. “I need a new advisor if you're up for it.”

“Challenge accepted.”

For a while you all talked, finally enjoying yourselves. It was really nice, but eventually you were all pulled away to go and join the party. Duty called.

As you made your way from person to person, they each congratulated you on your appointment as Zuko’s advisor. Some were less genuine than others, obviously upset that they hadn’t gotten the position.

All of it made you a little nervous and when you finally pulled away from a not so genuine couple, you made your way to Zuko. You wanted to dance and why do it with a stranger when you could do it with your best friend?

You were a third of the way to Zuko when you felt a tap on your shoulder. You snapped around, months of traveling with the gaang made you expect a fight, but instead you found a man a little older than you standing there.

“You’re Y/n, right? Zuko’s advisor?” He asked.

You nodded, giving him your default charming smile. “I am.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Lee.” He bowed and you quickly mimicked him. “I’m hoping to be on the council.”

“Oh? Where are you from?” You asked, trying to make conversation as you looked for Zuko again. He had moved in the brief time you had spoken to Lee.

“A small village that you’ve probably never heard of near another small that you’ve probably never heard of. All of the town leaders elected me to come here.”

You nodded, finally spotting Zuko. “Maybe I’ll put in a good word for you, but for now, it was nice meeting you.”

“Nice meeting you too, Y/n,” he said and you let out a sigh of relief as you left. It was so stressful just to talk to people now. They always wanted something and while Lee seemed kind it was hard to be sure.

You pushed your anxieties away though as you finally found Zuko.

“Enjoying the party?” You asked after he’d finished talking to a couple.

“If you can call it that.”

“Well, let’s remedy that. Come dance, it’ll be fun.”

Zuko nodded, offering an arm to lead you out to the dance floor.

~~~~

“Iroh!” You greeted the old man with a bright smile and a hug. It had been a few months since you’d last seen him and you missed him and his cheerful energy. And not only that, having him around always made Zuko happier.

“Y/n, it’s good to see you again. I hope you’ve been well?”

“Of course, I love the Fire Nation, especially with what we’ve done with it. Zuko’s been great!”

“Speaking of him, where is my nephew?”

“I’m here, Uncle!” Zuko called, speeding down the steps and immediately hugging Iroh. “How have you been?”

“Wonderful! The tea shop is as busy as ever.” He smiled. “How are you? I hear you’re pretty busy too.”

“Incredibly,” you agreed with a tired smile.

Iroh nodded understandingly. “Well, now that I’m here it’s time for some fun!”

The three of you turned to walk back into the palace, but a servant came rushing down the steps. “Your Majesty! Lady Y/n!”

“Yes?” Zuko asked after they had bowed.

“There’s a problem, an emergency meeting had to be scheduled.”

You sighed, but Iroh just chuckled. “Work never really takes a break.”

“Would you like to join us?” You asked.

“Will there be tea?” Iroh asked, earning a laugh from you.

“Whatever you’d like,” Zuko confirmed as you made your way to the meeting room.

You walked inside and took your seat next to Zuko, waving at those who had already arrived. Lee, who had been appointed to the council, waved back and moved to take a seat next to you as Iroh took the seat across from you.

You leaned over to Zuko. “Do you have any clue what this is about?”

“No,” he whispered back.

You sighed. “It’s probably something bad.”

Zuko was cut off from answering as a younger general, Xu, stood to address the room. He began to speak and you listened intently as he discussed a problem with the colonies: some people didn’t want to acknowledge that Zuko was the Firelord, instead they were choosing to follow ‘Firelord Azula’.

It was a problem you’d heard of before and you wondered why Xu was bringing it up now, in an emergency meeting, on your day off.

Just as you were about to voice your question Xu answered it. “Some of the leaders of the colonies have come here and we are worried that they might try something...drastic,” Xu stated.

Zuko nodded thoughtfully and you spoke up. “What do you think about giving them a tour of all the good things that Firelord Zuko has done? Maybe then they will see that he isn’t all bad?”

“Sounds like a great idea!” Lee exclaimed from your right and Zuko nodded in agreement, though there was a frown on his face. You gave him a reassuring smile and he gave a small one back.

“And you should add some more guards to Azula’s cell,” Iroh added. “But don’t let her know about this. I know that my niece is crafty, if she has hope she will act on it.”

With those decisions made, the meeting went on smoothly and you were able to get out of it relatively fast.

As people filed out of the room you turned to Zuko and Iroh. “I’m going to run up to my office real quick. I want to send a hawk to everyone about this.”

Zuko nodded. “Meet us by the turtle duck pond?”

“Yep,” you moved to leave the room, but Lee grabbed your attention.

“You know you have such amazing ideas, why do you always look to Zuko to make sure he approves?” He asked, putting his hands on your shoulders.

You gave him an incredulous look as you gently moved away. “He’s the Firelord, he has the final say on bigger matters and I’d prefer us to be on the same page.”

“His uncle didn’t ask for approval to move guards to Azula’s cell.”

“We would have moved guards to Azula’s cell no matter what, Iroh just so happened to be the one to say it.” Lee opened his mouth to argue more, but you continued, “Maybe we can talk about this another time,” you suggested, backing away. Though, by ‘another time’ you meant never.

Lee nodded. “How about at dinner tonight?”

You shook your head and gave him a fake smile. “I have plans.” With that final statement you turned around and quickly left the room. While Lee typically made you feel more comfortable in meetings, this time he was doing anything but.

You were halfway down the long hallway when you realized that you had forgotten your notes. You sighed turning around, you’d need them to write a letter to your friends. You wanted to give them as many facts as possible so they could decide what to do.

Your footsteps echoed ominously in the hall and you realized how uninviting and creepy they seemed. It was another thing you’d have to talk to Zuko about.

You pushed aside your thoughts and slowed down as you heard slightly raised voices in the meeting room. Two you immediately recognized as Zuko’s and Iroh’s, but third, Lee’s, took you a little longer.

“You were clearly making her uncomfortable,” Zuko stated and you could tell that he was irritated.

“Maybe you were just uncomfortable thinking about Y/n and I dating?” Lee asked.

“You don’t care about her, you just want power,” Zuko argued.

You heard Lee scoff. “Maybe I do. I would be a better Firelord than you. I’m beginning to think it’s your family that’s the problem, you’ll just lead this country to ruin.”

You let out a quiet huff of annoyance. The result of many late night chats with Zuko had led you to know one of his greatest fears: failing. You scowled though no one could see you. How dare Lee say that? You had half a mind to challenge him to an Agni Kai right here and now.

A few calming breaths later led you to remember that you weren’t a fire bender and neither was Lee. However, you still weren’t above fighting him after what he had just said to your best friend. You did not appreciate Lee speaking to him like that.

Zuko was handling it though. “Leave,” he ordered and you could hear the glare in his voice.

“W-What?” Lee asked, all of his fight gone.

“I said, leave. If you are going to disrespect Y/n and I then you don’t have a place in this meeting room or in this palace.”

You didn’t hear anything else as you hid in an alcove by the door. Lee walked out of the room and you could see he was seething, you’d never seen him that angry and you were glad he couldn’t see you. You did not want to talk to him.

You moved back to the door to head inside, but Iroh spoke, “I’ll have some guards escort him out.”

“Thank you.” Zuko’s voice moved away from the door. “Do you think I was overreacting?”

“No,” Iroh stated. “You were concerned for Y/n, I can see how much you like her.”

“What? No!” Zuko protested. “She’s my best friend.”

“She’s not more than a friend?” Iroh asked teasingly.

“I-I don’t know,” Zuko admitted much to your surprise.

You couldn’t imagine Zuko liking you, it was a miracle you were friends after the way you had met. Could you even be more than friends? If you really thought about it you weren’t opposed to the idea.

A chair creaked. “I’ll leave you to think about it,” Iroh said.

“I’ll meet you at the turtle duck pond,” Zuko responded, his voice distant, as the door opened.

“Hi,” You said, slightly embarrassed that you had been found listening.

“You should talk to him,” Iroh advised, a kind smile on his face.

You nodded, pushing open the door. “Hey Zuko.”

“Y/n? H-how much did you hear?”

“All of it,” you admitted feeling your face heat up.

“Oh, um-“

You cut him off. “Thank you for defending me.”

“Of course.”

You smiled at him. “About what I heard after that...”

“Oh, that,” He repeated, flustered.

“Mhmm,” you proded.

“Well, I-I guess I like you then.”

You chuckled at how spontaneous this situation was, but quickly realized it wasn’t a good idea. You moved over and sat in the chair next to Zuko. Taking his hands you beamed at him. “I like you too...even if you burned down my village.”

He groaned. “I’d like you a lot more if you’d stop binging that up.”

“It’s all a part of our story, the good and the bad.”

****

Tada!!! Thank you so.much for this request and I hope it's what you wanted! I hope y'all have a fantastic and safe day/night! I wish you all the best!

P.S. I am open to requests!!!!!

P.P.S. If you want to be on my taglist for all things Zuko, feel free to ask. I hope it works and please message me if it doesn’t.

Taglist: @duh-dobrik

#zuko x reader #zuko x y/n #zuko imagine #zuko x you #prince zuko imagine #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko x you #prince zuko x y/n #fire lord zuko #a:tla imagine #a:tla zuko #a:tla x reader #avatar: tla #avatar the last airbender #best friends #requested #request

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spritewrites · 4 years

Text

time travel doesn’t change everything

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy

Characters: the Hargreeves siblings

Word Count: 5k

A/N: Hi everybody! This is a collaborative fic (wow!) that @ticklishhargreeves and I have been working on for a while, based on an idea that we came up with together about three weeks ago. We wanted to incorporate a bunch of the headcanons we’ve come up with recently into a fic. We hope you enjoy!!

Allison’s room could best be described as a bit of a time capsule; posters from the beginning and middle of her career, drawings that she’d made and been gifted as a child, and family photos in the form of newspaper clippings. Going through the drawers and boxes under her bed provided nearly endless entertainment. A small gasp escaped from her grin when she pulled out one specific piece of paper that she’d forgotten about — a somewhat poorly drawn chart that depicted each of the Hargreeves siblings’ most ticklish spots. The tickle fights they’d had as children were sparse, considering they only really had free time for about an hour a week, but damn, were they competitive. This was the cheat sheet that she’d made to always get the upper hand.

The colored pencil had smudged a bit, but Allison could still make out the faint markings of each of her brothers’ names. She smiled to herself, leaning back on a stack of books to read the chart. They’d been so young then, but she could still hear their laughter echoing down the mansion hallways, as clear as anything. She let out a small laugh at a note in the margin: Ask Mom for acrylic nails before next week.

“Everything okay?” Luther was leaning against her door frame, just a bit bigger than when they were kids, but still with that same kind smile. She smiled back.

“Just reminiscing. Check this out!” She held up the faded piece of paper for him to read.

“No way!” the large figure exclaimed, gently taking the chart from Allison’s hand and sitting on the side of her bed to look at it. “This is from all our —”

“Tickle fights,” Allison interrupted with a laugh, “yeah. Crazy, right?”

“Yeah,” an awkward chuckle from Luther masked the slight nervousness he felt reading his name accompanied by the bullet-pointed notes: squeeze his calves, scribbles under toes, tops of feet are weirdly ticklish??, kicks a lot. “God, I haven’t been tickled in… years, probably.”

“You were so cute,” Allison giggled, and Luther wasn’t entirely sure that he liked the look she was giving him. “I wonder if this is still accurate.”

Luther cleared his throat. “Yeah, well, um, no way to know for sure, so-”

She had tackled him to the bed before he even knew what was happening. “Only one way to find out.”

She sat across his knees - “You kick, remember?” - and gave one of his calves a squeeze. Luther bolted upright, gasping.

“Um, I think there’s another way to find out! See, I could just tell you-”

“No,” Allison smiled, squeezing again and enjoying the desperate noise her brother made. “I’ve gotta test it to know for sure.”

He got as far as “Wait, Allison, please-” before he was choking back giggles, trying to worm his way out of Allison’s hold as her long nails skated over his ankles. She grinned.

“Okay, so squeezing your legs still definitely works. How about your feet?”

“No!” Luther cried, burying his face in a pillow and nearly squealing as she traced gentle lines over his soles. Allison giggled at the sound, scribbling over his heels and leaning forward to keep his straining legs from kicking.

“Feet are still pretty bad too. Thank God the serum didn’t affect these, huh?” She skittered her nails around the tops of his feet, and Luther let out a screech into his pillow. It was taking all of his strength to not… well, use his strength.

“You remember that pedicure I dragged you into, right?” she laughed at the memory, and again at Luther’s quick nod into the pillow.

The screech turned into an uncharacteristically high-pitched yelp when Allison held his toes back with one hand, and skittered beneath them with the other. Finally, he’d began to laugh an endearingly childlike giggle. “AH - Allison,” he attempted to catch his breath with a forceful gasp as his massive arms squeezed the pillow to his face, and his legs shook, “Allison!”

Allison laughed at him and his sounds, almost not wanting to stop. “Alright, alright, I don’t want to kill you. Not yet, anyway.” She rolled off his legs to lay next to him on the bed, grinning from ear to ear. “Looks like your weak spots are still the same!”

Luther groaned, trying to catch his breath through the pillow (he wasn’t confident enough in the color of his face yet to look at her). “That was mean.”

“Hey, I was just consulting the chart!”

“You wrote the chart!”

“And I stand by it,” she teased, giving his leg a poke that made him twitch. She grabbed the paper and left the room, satisfied that her victim was suitably tickled out.

Luther rolled onto his back, panting. “Screw that chart.”

—

As she was leaving the room, Allison couldn’t help but notice the absence of Vanya’s name on the chart. It wasn’t a surprising fact. They never included her in anything as children, not even tickle fights. This fact still broke Allison’s heart, but of course, with the opportunity to make up for lost time, it’d be foolish not to take it… right?

After spotting her much smaller sister reading on the couch, Allison made her way downstairs and plopped down right next to Vanya with a grin.

Ever since their trip to the 60s, the sisters certainly developed a strong bond. Allison was, quite possibly. the one sibling that Vanya felt the most comfortable with; Klaus being a close second. Her attention drew away from the book in her hands, and towards her smiling sister. “Hey, Allison.” Vanya smiled, setting her book down, saving her place.

“Hey, um,” Allison subtly hid the chart by her other side, raising an eyebrow with a mischievous glint in her eye, “Vanya, are you ticklish? By any chance?”

“Uh,” Vanya chuckled, shifting awkwardly with a shrug, “I - I think so. I mean, sometimes Sissy would touch my neck and it would feel kinda funny. Like the back, right here?” She touched the back of her neck to show her scheming sister exactly where she was ticklish. Big mistake.

“Oh,” Allison chuckled, not expecting this to be so easy. She sneakily reached her arm around the back of the couch, “Like, right… here?”

Vanya twitched, letting out something akin to a squeak as her shoulders jumped up beside her ears. “I think - hey!” Her sister had begun tracing wicked fingers along the crease of her neck, her nails sliding effortlessly between the wrinkles to get at the weakest points. Vanya scrunched like a turtle, reaching back to swat at the offending hands, but the light touch made her limbs turn to jelly and her effort was not very coordinated. The endless stream of bubbly giggles, however, was new.

Allison’s face lit up. “Looks like you are ticklish.”

Understatement of the century. Vanya opened her mouth to speak, but all that came out was a squeal when Allison’s tickles wandered down from her neck and over her shoulders, sneaking pokes in under her arms.

“Where else, I wonder…” Allison mused, and slid her hands down her sister’s sides. Vanya’s spine nearly snapped with how quickly she arched her back, letting out a gasp. “Oh, here?”

“Allison, please!”

“Please what?” She tapped a nail on the curve of Vanya’s waist, prompting a high-pitched giggle. Vanya shook her head, seemingly struck dumb by the overwhelming feeling. Another pinch to her side, and she wriggled, curling in on herself. Unfortunately, this left the back of her neck unguarded, and with a smile, Allison reached to tickle her there.

Vanya squealed. “Please, I can’t - mercy!”

Allison laughed at her sister’s reactions, easing off to just rub her shoulders. “Okay, so, neck and sides? Those are the big ones?”

The sigh of relief that escaped Vanya was soothing. “I - I guess so. I think?”

“Well, I still have more exploring to do, but I can be merciful for now,” Allison replied with a wink. “I’ll add you to the chart.”

“Chart?”

“Yeah, see?” She pulled out the piece of paper. Vanya’s eyes lit up.

“Oh my God, this is adorable. How old were we when you made this?”

Allison smiled. “I don’t know, ten maybe? We used to have these epic battles…” She trailed off, catching her sister’s eyes. “I’m sorry we didn’t - ”

Vanya held up a hand to silence her. “It’s okay. I’m included now.” She raked her gaze over the paper in her hands. “Luther was ticklish on his feet?”

Allison couldn’t stop her laugh. “Still is, I just tested it.”

“Shit, that’s goddamn… cute. All of these are so cute,” she said with a smile.

“Aren’t they?” Allison replied, snatching the paper once again with a cunning smile. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some notes to update and some experiments to run.”

—

It seemed like whenever she saw Klaus, he was always talking to some ghost. Usually arguing with them. Sometimes flirting, you never know. The conversation that Allison walked in on today, however, was definitely not flirting.

“Just shut up, you don’t have a goddamn clue… That’s what I said, you never fucking listen to - Allison!”

She paused in the doorframe, amused. “Am I interrupting?”

“What, this?” Klaus gestured vaguely at the armchair across from him. “Nah, nothing important. Just bonding, you know how it is.” He seemed to disconnect from Allison for a second, listening, and then shot a glare at the armchair. “Dickwad.”

Allison clapped her hand over her mouth at the insult, but not quickly enough to stop the laugh that escaped. Whoever it was, they had pissed Klaus off. “Okay, well, I was just going through some of my old stuff, and I found…” She pulled out the wrinkled piece of paper. “This.”

Klaus’ eyebrows furrowed. “Okay… What is that?”

“A chart I made when we were young, to win those fights we used to have.”

“What fights?” Before Allison could answer, her brother’s gaze flicked to the armchair and back to her. “The tickle fights? You made a… what did you say, a chart?”

She nodded. “It’s detailed.”

Klaus laughed. “So organized! Let me see -” He reached up, but she snatched it out of his grasp.

“Nope, this is valuable information. But, I could let you see… if you participate in the experiment I’m running.”

Rolling green eyes, Klaus scoffed and lifted his arms up, a playful smile on his face as he looked away. He clearly already knew exactly what these so-called experiments were; perhaps Vanya’s laughter from downstairs was a giveaway.

A smile played on Allison’s lips. She remembered how Klaus never really hated tickles, and acknowledged the note by his name: asks to be tickled all the time, listed alongside others such as SUPER ticklish armpits, tapped his hips once and he squeaked? maybe he’s ticklish there too? Haven’t tried yet. She laughed, launching her tickling fingers towards Klaus’ armpits, only to be stopped by him slamming his arms down at the last second.

“Sorry, sorry. Instinct,” he smiled, already giggling a bit, before lifting his arms again.

All of a sudden, his elbows shot down towards his hips as he choked on his laughter, “B-Ben! No!” Klaus collapsed to the floor within seconds, kicking his legs and screeching.

Allison smiled. Of course, only Ben could rile her brother up like that. Squinting, she smirked, noticing the placement of Klaus’ slapping hands, “Klaus? Ben’s not getting your hips, is he?”

The silly noises he'd been making between silent laughter was accompanied by a desperate nod, messing up his long hair.

“Good!” Allison exclaimed, a bubbly tone to her voice, before lowering herself to the floor next to her flailing brother. “What a long overdue discovery.” Her pinch to his left hip felt more real than Ben’s spidery ghost tickles, and he squeaked. Her hands moved quickly, though, to lodge themselves under his arms while he was distracted.

The yelp that left Klaus’ mouth was loud enough to make Allison flinch slightly, but her hands stayed put. “Allison,” he whined, squeezing his arms to his sides as he simultaneously tried to roll away from Ben’s way-too-tangible thumbs digging into his hip bones.

She raised her eyebrows curiously as she twitched her fingers ever so slightly, relishing in the squirms and adorable gasps that followed.

When Allison began to wiggle all ten of her fingers, plus the other ten digits, both on his worst spots, his eyes squeezed shut as his squeaks and laughs rose yet another octave. Curling in on himself, he shook his head, unable to shake either of his ruthless tickle-monster siblings.

“Tickie, tickie, tickle!” Allison cooed as she laughed along with him.

“What's wrong, Klausie? I thought you loved tickie, tickie, tickles.” Ben’s words were snide and Klaus could practically hear his stupid grin.

High-pitched giggles rolled out of his mouth as he grabbed onto a nearby throw pillow. “Stopstopstop, okay! Okay, jeez!” It was obvious that he wasn't that desperate for the tickles to stop; he really just needed a breather. Klaus threw the pillow in an attempt to hit Ben, but it just phased through him. Ben stuck his tongue out.

“Asshole,” Klaus grumbled at his invisible brother. Allison laughed again, before leaning over to whisper something into Klaus’ ear. A noticeable smile washed over his face as he looked directly at his ghost brother, crawling towards him.

Ben's eyes widened as he stumbled backwards, falling back onto the armchair. His arms flailed, not knowing how to defend himself since it had been such a long time. “Nonono, Klaus, what did she tell you? – EEP!” His reaction to Klaus’ quick and repetitive pokes to his stomach was immediate.

The notes on the chart read really squeaky, ribs and stomach (but be careful!!!), starts begging after mere seconds, & very gullible, so easy to tickle. Ben had always been super easy to trick into getting tickled when they were younger; asking him to reach things in high up cabinets, challenging him to keep his arms up, and tons of tickle hugs.

He hadn’t been tickled since before he died, but it was just as unbearable as he remembered. He couldn’t hold back a squeak as Klaus prodded around the soft area just below his ribs, throwing an arm over his face to hide his blush.

Klaus threw his head back and laughed. “Awww, I forgot that you were so sensitive, Benny! Guess now we know what’ll happen when you make fun of me, hmm?”

Ben wanted more than anything to snap back at his brother, but couldn’t possibly reply around his high-pitched giggle fit, so he settled on a squeal. “Allison! H-help!”

“She can’t hear you,” Klaus cooed, racing his fingertips up Ben’s ribs to elicit another adorable squeak, clearly amused.

Allison laughed at the image of her brother kneeling on the floor, ruthlessly attacking absolutely nothing. “No, but I can picture it. Remember those physical exams that Grace would give us?”

Every month, in order to keep them all in tip-top shape for missions, Grace would perform physical examinations. These exams, of course, included lots of pressing and prodding tummies with her cold robot hands, much to Diego and Ben’s dismay. Diego would often need to have a break after ten seconds, but Ben would always just giggle his little heart out, and could never sit still, try as he might.

Klaus giggled too. “Of course, dear little Benjamin could never stand those. Could you, Benerino?” Their brother merely cackled in response, batting helplessly at the tickling fingers. God, if this didn’t end soon, he was going to die again. Could ghosts die again?

“I… neeheed AIR, you asshole!”

“No you don’t,” Klaus replied simply, pinching at the skin right above his belly button. Ben shrieked, flailed, and ended up rolling off the armchair onto the ground. Klaus took it as a cue to stop and sat back, grinning at his work.

“What’s he look like?” Allison asked, not even trying to hide her sadistic smile.

Klaus grinned at the rumpled pile of ghost on the floor, who flipped him off. “Like shit.”

“Fuck off,” Ben replied, but he was smiling. Mission accomplished.

—

Diego frequently sat in his room alone, doing God knows what. The minute that Allison walked in, he was just twirling one of his knives in his hand. Turning around to look at his sister, who had been smiling at a piece of paper, his brows furrowed, “What?”

Allison couldn’t help but chuckle to herself as she read the notes beside her stoic brother’s name: ticklish EVERYWHERE, pokes make him squirm, sometimes cries at tummy tickles, GET HIS BELLYBUTTON, & make sure he’s not holding anything. She remembered fondly how her and her brothers would always gang up on him and tickle him until he cried. Grace always had to step in to get them to stop. She cleared her throat, and looked over at him, turning the paper around to face him, “Remember this?”

“Oh, ... yeah, from those - those fights we had when we were kids. Yeah.” Diego placed his knife down on the desk, and moved to stand up, subtly trying to escape what he feared was about to happen.

“Hm, what kind of fights were those?”

“You - y’know. The -… the wrestling and stuff.” He silently cursed his sister for trying to make him say it; she knew that he absolutely hated the word, both hearing it and saying it… and experiencing it. Diego pretended to nonchalantly pace away in order to exit the room, only to make his way into the corner farthest from the door, where Allison was inconveniently standing.

“I heard a rumor… that you can’t move until I start tickling you.” Allison sped up the last part of her rumor, making it so he couldn’t cover his ears as he typically used to. Walking over to him, she grinned and wiggled her fingers in the air, eyeing his torso.

A grunt left Diego’s already reluctantly smiling mouth as he attempted to tug on his legs in order to move, “Dammit! Screw you, Allison! - ACK!” His eyes squeezed shut, embarrassed at the slight giggle that he’d let out without her even touching him yet.

“What is it, Diego? Surely, you've grown out of letting a few tickly fingers take you down?” Allison teased, poking his tummy with her two index fingers.

A snort escaped his mouth in an attempt to stifle the giggle fit that was bound to start as he doubled over. He tried to use his regained mobility to make a break for it, but it was too late. The momentum from the force he'd been using in his attempts to get away pushed him to the floor. He was absolutely cornered.

“Nonono — I-I, yes, I have grown out of it!” The way his arms were wrapped around his torso and the quick pace of his words, however, told a different story. “I’m seri - NO,” he yelped before dissolving into a squirmy puddle of silent giggles. Allison’s digits were swiftly poking and scratching at any spot they could reach.

“You’re what? Cereal? Serene? Can’t be serious; you’re giggling too much for that, silly.” Ever since they were children, Diego always seemed to bring out Allison’s most brutal teases. “It seems to me that you still might be the most ticklish one in this house, Diego! Tell me, how does it feel to have such a title?” She’d been able to latch her hands onto the sides of his stomach before wiggling her fingers into them.

His laughter rose in volume when he opened his mouth to speak, “I-It tickles! - Shit, shit,” he squealed over Allison’s coos, “Sh-sh-shut up!” Saying the word, along with his embarrassingly childish reactions to such simple touches, was enough to redden his face. A squawk left his mouth when he felt a clawed hand digging into his lower tummy, dangerously close to his bellybutton.

Allison stopped for a second, glancing down at both of Diego’s hands clutching onto her single hand on his stomach, and back up at her uncontrollably giggling brother. The grin on her face was the only thing that preceded her free hand flying straight towards his unguarded navel.

Diego weakly pushed at her hands as he kicked his legs and screamed. His cackles now echoed through the whole house. Both of her hands were squaring in on his stomach and fuck, he couldn’t take it. “Allison - fuck! I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die, oh my God, stop,” Diego rambled quickly between gasps of laughter, tears forming in the corners of his eyes, much to his own chagrin, and Allison’s amusement.

He was just so fun to tickle. He always had been. Of course, Allison knew he wasn’t going to die; he was just over dramatic sometimes. “What’s the magic word?”

“F-Fuck off,” he growled.

Allison mimicked a buzzer noise as she continued to tickle and poke around Diego’s hypersensitive midriff, even adding a few pokes to his thigh, and pinches to his triceps, “Wrong.” She laughed at the rather adorable image of her brother, curled up in the corner of his room, hands flailing in an attempt to get the tickles to stop, and twitching away from every little touch. He really was ticklish just about everywhere.

“I've gotta tell Lila about this,” Allison chuckled, making a mental note. “Imagine her finding out that you're ticklish on your shoulders. And your chest? She's gonna have a field day, I know it.”

A squeal, “Noho, okay, okay, please! Pleasepleaseplease, fuck,” he rolled over, yelling when the tickles didn’t stop, “Fucking please, Allison! Pleehease.”

“All right, you big baby!” She decided to finally let up, chuckling at the residual giggles that escaped Diego’s mouth.

He clutched his stomach, wheezing. “Christ, I fucking… forgot what that felt like.” A warning look was shot towards his sister, “Don't you dare tell her.”

Allison grinned, poking him again and brightening when she was rewarded with a yelp. “I think we all did, and…” a quick spider over his tummy got him to curl up again, “I think I just might.”

—

Allison clutched the chart firmly in her fist, making her way up the many flights of stairs. Last but not least. She glanced at the notes by the scrawled out ‘Number Five:’ says he's not ticklish but we know he is, flinches when anyone touches his knees (especially the left one), and hiccups a lot after laughing really hard.

Bursting into his room, Allison, expecting him to be doing… well, whatever old man stuff he liked to do, was surprised to find her brother fast asleep in his bed. After all he’d been through, experiencing the apocalypse twice & back to back, he certainly deserved a nap or twelve.

One thing that all of the siblings agreed on, though silently, was that Five was utterly adorable when he was asleep, and not snapping at anyone. Surely, just a smidge less adorable than when…

A poke to the blanketed figure made his snoring breaths hitch, and then they continued as normal.

He’d napped long enough, Allison thought to herself, not knowing if he’d been sleeping for two minutes or two hours. Nothing could beat her infinite curiosity, though, about just where dear old Fivey was ticklish. It had been far too long, and she knew he was at least a little bad on his knees but there was no way that could be all. That little body definitely held tons of bottled up laughter over the years that just had to be let out.

Of course his right leg was sticking out of the mass of comforter and sheets. Of course it was.

Allison quickly spidered her fingers right above the hem of his grey knee socks, that he even wore to bed, apparently.

A sudden jerking motion under the covers followed as he stopped snoring.

“Fiiive,” Allison crooned in a somewhat warning tone. No answer. She pinched the sides of his knee, only to be awarded with a twitch and a “cough” that was far too loud to pass off as a cough.

“Fuck off, Allison,” Five’s sleepy voice, muffled by the pillow, piped up.

“Okay, rude,” she replied, going in for the kill, skittering all five of her nails over his knee cap.

He internally cursed at the choking sound that escaped his throat, as he pulled his leg under the covers, in order to provide some defense. The blanket reshaped itself as he curled up, and Allison thought she heard a grumpy sigh through the fabric.

“Y’know, you might’ve spent almost 50 years without other people, but I would’ve thought that you’d remember at least some of your manners.” Another sigh. “No apology? Fine then.”

Allison sat right down on Five’s bed, and grabbed his left ankle, pulling it out from under the covers.

Before he could teleport away, he felt unbearably light and spidery tickles along the back of his knee. A screech that he couldn’t hope to suppress left his mouth, but only took seconds for the bubbly giggles, and the violent kicking, to begin.

Allison’s steady hold on Five’s ankle turned out to be a major asset to her attack as his whole body thrashed around, tangling himself in his blanket and sheets. She couldn't help but flinch at the frantic movements and his other foot weakly pushing at her hip.

“Good to see little Five still has those tickly, tickly knees!”

“Allison! Fucking,” he squeaked, unable to hold back the helpless laughter, “Fuck you! I’m gonna - ACK,” another giggle. “Dammit! I’ll fucking kill you!”

The giggles laced with threatening screams were delightfully familiar. “Sure you will, Giggles,” she teased, prodding and squeezing around his entire knee, adding some occasional rib tickles into the mix to make him twitch.

Five’s hands flickered blue, but there was no way he could teleport with how unfocused he was. He felt like he was going crazy. It had been ages since he'd laughed so freely, let alone been tickled; certainly since before he left. The sensation, so completely disarming while also frustratingly familiar, overwhelmed him.

“Fuck you, I swear - shit! Oh my fucking g- Allison!”

“Yes?” She stuck her tongue out in concentration, digging into the spot just above his kneecap that made him scream.

Five was in hell. His hands were still glowing, but never enough to do anything goddamn useful. He could feel his leg twitching, trying to kick, but Allison was merciless, and she had a lot more practice tickling his thirteen-year-old body than he had fighting off her adult reflexes. The giggles pouring out of his mouth were starting to grow hoarse, though, and he was pretty sure that if this kept up much longer, he’d actually go crazy.

“F-fine!”

“What was that?”

“I said - ” The tickling stopped, but his eyes locked on where Allison’s lethal nails were still hovering over his ribs. Flushed, he choked back a giggle. “I said fine, you fucking - ”

“Fine what?” Allison aimed a poke at the space between two ribs and he jerked.

“Fine, I’m sorry!” The hands withdrew, and Five curled into himself, breathing heavily through the last remaining chuckles. Allison blew on two fingertips like a gun, and dodged the smack that Five sent her way.

“Fuck off. Hic.”

Allison’s eyes lit up. “There they are!”

“Huh? What are you - hic - talking about?” Five grumbled, pulling his knees into his chest and sucking in a big breath to try to stop the hiccups.

She grinned, pulling out the chart, and resisting the urge to reach out and poke his puffed cheeks. “I took notes.”

Five’s eyes widened, and he let out his breath, looking vaguely… impressed. “Holy shit. You’re thorough.” His eyes scanned over her scribbled words. “Diego? Really?”

Allison chuckled. “Really. I’m surprised you forgot, he’s the worst of all of us. Even worse than you.”

Five’s nose wrinkled, and he let out a childish snort. “Serves him right.”

“Oh, shut up, you ticklish little son of a bitch.” Diego muttered from the doorway... alongside Klaus, Vanya, and Luther.

Five spun and internally cursed at himself at the blush growing on his face, wondering how long the rest of his siblings had been there watching him get absolutely wrecked.

“I know you are but what am I,” he snapped back at his bigger but younger brother, who’d lunged towards him, ready for a battle.

Diego was blocked by Allison though, and he stopped, knowing not to cross her while she was in the terrifying mood she’d been in all day.

“Guys, enough. Can’t we have just one fun day without you at each other’s throats?”

“Y’know what, Allison, I know I didn’t get a very close look but…” Klaus clicked his tongue as his strong brows furrowed, “I don’t think I saw your name on that little chart.” He made his way over to his other siblings with an unmistakable glint in his eye and grabbed the chart from his sister’s hand.

Allison always did have the upper hand in all their tickle fights, and now they all knew why.

“W-well, that’s because I made it.” The look that her family exchanged did not go unnoticed, and she stepped backwards, ending up stumbling onto Five’s bed. “Hey, hey guys, wait - ”

The chart was updated that day; Vanya’s handwriting scrawled next to Allison’s name, alongside cackly laughter, super ticklish neck and armpits!!!, accidentally kicked Luther in the head, & best sister ever.

#umbrella academy #tua #tickle fic #tickling #ticklishhargreeves #my fics #ticklish!luther #ticklish!diego #ticklish!allison #ticklish!klaus #ticklish!five #ticklish!ben #ticklish!vanya

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favefandomimagines · 4 years

Text

Soul Surfer 5

AN: shits gonna hit the fan..i’m sorry in advance. also, if this doesn’t do well, i’m contemplating taking a break from Soul Surfer or at least putting it on hold for a bit

The night of Friday’s Boneyard party was supposed to be great. It was supposed to go off without a hitch. But that was the opposite of what happened.

Violet was supposed to spend more time with JJ and actually see if the two could work. However, Violet learned that nothing was ever that easy in the Outer Banks.

Violet was at home, getting herself ready for the Boneyard party, when her balcony door opened.

“Knock, knock.” JJ appeared. “You could have used the front door you know.” Violet told the blonde. “Hey, you’re the one who said your balcony door was always open.” JJ rebutted, sitting on her bed.

“Well, since you’re here, how do I look? Sarah and Kie have differing opinions.” Violet asked.

The girl did a small spin in front of him, putting her outfit on full display. “You look stunning.” He commented. Violet gave him a bashful smile before looking back at her reflection.

“Come on, pretty girl. We have a party to get to.” JJ told the brunette as he pulled her away from the mirror.

It was just like any other summer night at the Boneyard. Violet and Kiara were sitting on a log by the fire, talking about a new fundraiser to save sea turtles. JJ on the other side of Violet, talking to John B and Pope.

Everything was fine until Rafe drunkenly stumbled upon the group of pogues.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my favorite new Pogue.” He slurred, eyes focused on Violet. “Jesus Christ,” the brunette muttered.

“Leave her alone, Rafe.” Sarah told her older brother. “No. No, see I don’t want to do that.” He said. “Seriously, Rafe. I don’t want to talk to you.” Violet interjected.

Rafe’s eyes went dark as she stumbled closer to Violet, causing her to stand up from her seat. JJ then followed suit and protectively stood in front of her.

“Aw, does JJ have a little crush on Violet?” Rafe mocked. “Go home, Rafe.” JJ started. “Or what? You aren’t the only one who likes the new girl, Maybank.” Rafe started.

“And I bet she’d pick me over you if we asked her. Why choose you when she could have everything she ever wanted? With me.” He added.

Before Violet could add her own comeback, given she was standing right there, JJ pushed Rafe on to the sand.

JJ was on top of Rafe, punching him as all he saw was red. “JJ stop!” Violet yelled.

Violet hated violence. She hated it more than most things because she didn’t think it solved anyone’s problems. It only made them worse.

Rafe soon gained the upper hand and began punching JJ’s face in. “Rafe, that’s enough man!” Topper yelled, pulling his friend off JJ. John B helped the other boy off the sand before he stormed off.

“JJ!” Kiara called after him, the rest of his friends following. “Dude, stop!” John B yelled. “JJ, stop walking away!” Violet added. “What do you want, Violet?” JJ snapped, turning around quickly to face her. Ignoring the throbbing pain of his injuries.

“What the hell was that? Rafe could have killed you!” She said. “Really? You’re gonna yell at me for defending you?” JJ snapped. “Yes because it’s not worth it, JJ!” Violet yelled.

JJ scoffed before spitting blood on the sand. “You know what? You’re right. You aren’t worth it. I knew you wouldn’t fit in with us. You’re not Pogue. You’re just a sad little rich girl with mommy issues.” He snapped back at her.

All anger disappeared from Violet’s face and was quickly replaced with sadness and disgust. “JJ are you kidding?” Kiara scolded him.

Violet’s vision grew blurry as she glared at the boy who used to have her complete adoration. JJ used her biggest secret and the one thing she was ashamed of the most, against her over something stupid he did.

“I hate you.” She whispered, a few tears falling from her eyes, before turning and walking away.

It wasn’t until those three words left Violet’s lips and met his ears, did the realization of what JJ said hit him.

Kiara looked at her friend in disappointment before speaking. “What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you say that to her?” She yelled, before following after Violet.

Violet quickly became one of her best friends and hearing what JJ said to her made her extremely angry.

“Seriously, JJ?” Pope questioned, following Kie. “What did I just do?” JJ muttered, wanting it to just be a bad dream.

“JJ, why did you say that to Violet? I thought you liked her.” John B asked. “I do like her! I-I don’t know. I was mad at Rafe and I took it out on her.” JJ answered. John B gave his friend a sympathetic look before he himself walked away, leaving his friend alone.

Violet woke up the morning after the Boneyard completely drained. Well, she didn’t consider it waking up when she never fell asleep.

She stayed up all night either crying or staring blankly at the ceiling. Every time she closed her eyes she could see and hear JJ say those awful things to her.

That she didn’t belong with the pogues, she wasn’t worth it, sad girl with mommy issues.

“Vi, honey, wake up.” Rob said from the other side of the door. “I’m up.” She groaned. “You know what they say cheers people up?” He asked.

Violet rolled her eyes before replying. “What?” She asked. “A couple boards and some choice waves.” He answered.

The brunette furrowed her eyebrows before she got out of bed and opened the bedroom door.

“You got that from Lilo and Stitch.” She said, looking up at him. “Yeah and it always cheers you up.” Rob replied.

Violet looked at her dad for a moment before she groaned. “Fine. Let’s go.” She said.

The father-daughter pair got their board and Rob drove them to the beach. Violet looked out the open window, the breeze calming her only for a few moments. Rob looked over at his daughter briefly, not wanting to bring up what made her so upset.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He asked. “Not really. I’d rather not drive into the fact that the guy I liked used my ‘mommy issues’ against me.” She answered.

“Maybe there’s something else going on with him. Something that made him lash out.” Rob said.

Rob always taught his daughter to give people the benefit of the doubt. There could be other factors or circumstances to make people lash out.

They arrived at the beach, it being early enough no one else was there. It was a routine they had that they’d surf early morning so it was only them and the waves.

Violet had to give it up to her father. Surfing did take her out of her head for a while. It made her think of the time that JJ Maybank wasn’t the center of her mind. Before she fell so quickly for a boy she barely knew.

“Feel any better?” Rob asked his daughter as they walked on the sand. “I’m not saying you’re right.” She joked. “Even though you know I was.” He said. “Okay sure. You were right.” Violet told him.

Rob could see that his daughter was still stuck in her head. “What’s going on?” He asked. “I just miss home. I miss Oahu.” Violet answered. “I know, kiddo. But this is our home now. I know it’s going to be hard after what happened with JJ but Kiara is still your friend. She stopped by last night to make sure you were okay.” Rob replied.

Before Violet was going to reply, she spotted Kiara walking towards her. “I’ll meet you back at the car.” Rob told her.

“Hey, Vi.” Kiara greeted her. “Hi, Kie.” Violet said. “How are you doing? After what happened?” Kiara asked. “Honestly, not good.” Violet answered. “I know JJ’s sorry. When he gets like that he just gets angry and lashes out. But I know it’s not an excuse for how he talked to you. You don’t deserve that.” Kiara said. “I wish I could just forgive him but,” Violet started.

The two were interrupted by JJ calling out to Violet. “Violet,” He started. “No.” She muttered as she turned to walk away with her board.

“Violet, please listen to me.” JJ begged. “Just stay away from me.” Violet snapped before she turned and walked away from Kiara and JJ.

JJ watched her walk away beating himself up for how he royally messed up.

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#imagine #imagines #outer banks imagine #outer banks #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #john b routledge #pope heyward #kiara carrera #sarah cameron #rafe cameron #rudy pankow x reader #rudy pankow #rudy pankow imagine

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duhragonball · 3 years

Note

Bulma

Give me a character and I will answer:

Why I like them: Somewhere around 1998, Kurt Busiek took over as the writer for the Iron Man comic. This was back when Iron Man wasn’t particularly popular and the last two attempts to reboot the guy had failed. I read an interview in Wizard Magazine where Kurt promoted his upcoming run, and he explained the character this way: Tony Stark is a superhero, an inventor, a ladies’ man, and a billionaire. �� You could have a blast writing a comic book about any one of those four things, but he’s all four. I may have gotten those four items wrong, partly because it’s been 22 years, and partly because it was more famous when Robert Downey Junior echoed that pitch in 2012. Take away the armor, and what is he? A billionaire genius philanthropist.

My point is that this is the appeal to Bulma as well. When we first meet her, she’s an adventurer, but then we find out she invented the device that lets her locate the Dragon Balls. And her mission is a romantic quest, so she’s like the heroine in a romance story. Then we meet her parents, and it turns out she’s a wealthy heiress. Well, I’m assuming Dr. Brief doesn’t plan on leaving his fortune to all of his pets, but you get the idea.

There’s a lot of versatility to the character. Some arcs barely make use of her, but others take full advantage. You can plop her in almost any scenario and it works. You want to write her at a fancy charity dinner? She’d fit right in. You want her teaching shop class in your high school AU? No problem at all. You want her to seduce a bad guy? You want her to shoot a bad guy? You want her to be the bad guy? It all works.

The main thing people dislike about Bulma is the way she treated Yamcha when they were together, and she’s kind of a jerk a lot of the time. Fair point, but I think this adds to the character. If she were sweet as could be and a rich, attractive polymath, she’d be downright insufferable. Also, her attitude plays off of the compassion she shows through the series. I can’t explain her behavior around Yamcha, but she did offer free room and board to the entire population of Namek, so I feel like that needs to be taken into consideration.

Why I don’t: In the first... hundred or so episodes of DBZ, Bulma doesn’t get a lot of chances to shine, despite all the screentime they gave her. Early into my DBZ-watching experience, I found her to be something like a shriller version of TMNT’s April O’Neil, a sidekick whose job was to look cute and get into danger so the good guys could save her. She really doesn’t get back into her groove until she returns to Earth, and once I saw those episodes, and her time in the original Dragon Ball, the character began to make a lot more sense. Really, the Bulma in DBZ #1 through 108 was probably intended to demonstrate how out-of-hand the situation was. She fixed the scouter and then it exploded. She fixed Nappa’s spaceship and it exploded. She fixed Kami’s spaceship and then Namek exploded. She just couldn’t keep up with the crisis.

Favorite episode (scene if movie):

Not exactly any one episode, but one of my favorite bits in the Red Ribbon Army Sagas is that the RRA has their own Dragon Radar, but it’s not portable, or anywhere near as precise as the one Bulma invented. It’s Goku’s biggest advantage during that conflict, and when it breaks, there’s literally no one else who can fix it. Those magic babies from Arale could make a new one, but I’m pretty sure they only did that by copying the design or something. And the RRA assumes that Goku must have an entire team of scientists providing him with logistical support, and that Master Roshi must be their leader, since he’s so old.

Also, near the end of the arc, Bulma needs to call Yamcha on the phone, but Roshi doesn’t have one, and then Turtle suggests that Bulma should just build one from scratch, since she had just finished building a robot drone a few episodes earlier. And she’s like “Oh, yeah, I forgot I knew how to do that.”

Favorite season/movie: The Androids/Cell arc is a big deal because it has two Bulmas, and her son is in it too.

And this is what I mean when I talk about versatility. That Super Dragon Ball Heroes series has two Gokus and two Vegetas, and I have no idea why, because they’re exactly the same, except one pair does SSJ4 and the other does Super Saiyan Blue. Bulma’s got more layers, so in a story like this, you can have 30-something Bulma care for an infant son and tackle logistical problems while she figures out her relationship with Vegeta, while the 50-something Bulma in the future can be this strong-yet-gentle post-apocalyptic survivalist, who hopes for a better tomorrow as she longs for her fallen friends.

Favorite line: I’m gonna stray from the canon for a minute, because I’m having trouble coming up with something, but in DBZ Abridged, when she’s arguing with Vegeta during his training session, they just start shouting “Fuck you!” at each other. Then she stops and says: “My room. Ten minutes.”

And holy shit, the delivery on that line was incredible. I knew they’d try to do something to set up their relationship, but there’s no footage to do that with, so they did it all with one line and some killer VA work.

Favorite outfit: This is a big, big wardrobe to choose from, but I’m partial to the one she wore in the Imperfect Cell Saga.

I can’t really explain the appeal, but I like this hairstyle and the clothing looks like authentic stuff you could actually buy at a store, which just makes it feel more real, even though it’s not any more detailed than her other outfits. I’m not sure that makes any sense. The trucker hat looks cute on her, let’s leave it there.

OTP: You know, there’s a lot of chemistry between Bulma and Yajirobe, and even though it’s kind of a rarepair, I can’t help but-- Okay, it’s her and Vegeta. I’ll stop messing around.

Brotp: Definitely her and Goku. I’m imagining the set up to the DBS Broly movie going like this.

“Hey, I’m gonna invite Goku along on our trip. That way you can fight him when you get bored.”

“Why do you keep asking him to tag along I can’t stand him.”

“Yeah, but I like him and I paid for the resort, so I guess you gotta deal with it.”

“...”

Then he shows up and she sends him on some ridiculous mission to search the ocean floor for sunken treasure or something.

Head Canon: Future Bulma does tech support in Toki Toki/Conton City, because Xenoverse is canon and the Goku Black Saga can just bugger right off because it never happened.

She shows up from time to time to check on all the Capsule Corp tech in the city, and she drops by just to say hi to her boy, and also she has coffee with my Mary Sue OC, because Future Bulma appreciates how tough and cool my writing is.

Unpopular opinion: The Vegebul ship probably gets way too much attention. Not that it’s a bad ship or that it doesn’t deserve the attention, but it feels like a buffet where all anyone gets is ranch dressing. They just ignore the rest of the spread and fill an entire bowl with ranch and head back to the table to drink it. Then they come right back and line up for another helping.

I’m not knocking it. I have a Vegebul calendar in my kitchen. But it reminds me of how the “comics fandom” in the late 90′s was really just an X-Men fandom that acknowledged that other comic books hypothetically existed.

They’re gonna come after me now, aren’t they?

A wish: A lifetime supply of strawberries does sound kind of nice...

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: I hope we’re done with Bulma’s Resurrection F outfit for good. The cowboy boots, no, we’re done with that.

5 words to best describe them: Five would never be enough.

My nickname for them: Don’t have one. Vegeta calls her “woman”, but I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t go over well if I started doing that.

#ask duhragonball #dragon ball #bulma #2d3dlover

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words-with-wren · 4 years

Text

i’d give you my lungs so you can breathe

Words: 2,027

Fandom: Tangled the Series

Characters: Eugene, Varian, Angry, Catalina, Lance. Max and Ruddiger are there to.

Warnings: Ice and cold. I keep making Varian cold. But hey, Eugene is the one who needs to be rescued today that’s new.

A/N: I honestly don’t think I’ve written this much outside of Nano for y e a r s this fandom has inspired MANY WORDS over the last couple of months. Anyway, it’s an obligatory drowning fic because I always end up doing one of those apparently.

______

“Come on, Eugene!” Varian called. He was stumbling slightly as he tried to gain his balance on the ice and Eugene shot a glare at him from where he was turtled up in his coat, trying to hide as much of his face as possible from the cold air.

“Why we had to come all the way out here I don’t know,” he muttered. Varian grinned, his face a healthy flush, and that was enough for Eugene to relent somewhat, despite his dislike of the cold weather.

Angry and Catalina had recently found a small spring, a little way from the river. When it had frozen over, they had excitedly invited Varian to join them in ice skating and playing on the ice, and Eugene had decided they needed at least some adult supervision that wasn’t Lance.

Lance had left them to it for the moment, leaving to prepare a hot lunch of pancakes for when they grew bored. The two girls were already on the ice, moving skillfully, clearly having practised before. Varian was much more uncertain, stumbled a little as he struggled to get used to the ice skates.

Eugene, who had steadfastly refused to put the skates on, stepped out to help him before he landed on his face and passed out because of a bleeding nose. Varian gratefully latched onto his arm, grinning as they began to slowly move around the edge of the ice.

“Hurry up, V!” Angry called, spinning past them, eyes dancing. Varian stuck his tongue out at her.

“You’ve had a head start at practice!” he called, slowly letting go of Eugene’s arm. He swayed, maintaining his balance and began to slowly slide forward.

“You’re getting it,” Eugene said encouragingly, and Varian’s grin widened. He had been cooped up inside for far too long, busy trying to figure out a way to use the hot water boilers to heat the castle. If he was being honest, Eugene had only agreed to come so he could make sure Varian had a full day outside, with his friends, away from the close walls of his laboratory. And seeing his flushed and excited face, looking more like the kid he was than he had in a long time, was more than worth the slight discomfort the cold brought.

Varian began to move more confidently, sliding across the ice slowly, building up speed as he did. Eugene stopped, standing on the ice and watching with a small smile as his young friend began to catch up with the girls, throwing his hands out every so often to keep his balance. He was doing better than Eugene had expected - the kid was never one for coordination.

Eugene turned to make his way back towards the edge of the spring, where Max was waiting, Ruddiger asleep in his saddle, when an ominous cracking sound came from behind him.

“Uh… Angry?” Catalina’s voice was uncertain and Eugene turned to see she had stopped near the centre of the spring, cracks in the ice slowly appearing around her feet.

“Catalina?” Angry called, moving to skate towards her sister.

“Don’t!” Eugene called sharply and she froze, shifting her feet so she didn’t fall. “We don’t want to add any more weight onto the ice, alright. Angry, Varian, get off the ice, I’ll get her - don’t move, Red.”

She nodded, her face pale and scared. Varian began to move to the edge of the ice, looking back with no little concern.

“But -” Angry began, still shifting her feet, clearly wanting to run to her sister’s side.

“I’ll get her, Kiera,” Eugene said, his voice sharp. She sensed the urgency and slowly began making her way off the ice while Eugene carefully stepped towards Catalina. “Take it slowly, alright? The ice should hold your weight so long as you move slowly.”

She nodded, the fear clear in her eyes as she slowly inched towards Eugene. The ice creaked dangerously under their feet, more cracks appearing in the ice and Eugene’s heart began beating quickly. He tried not to think about the water under them, about what would happen if he fell in - if she fell in.

Instead, he focused on her, smiling encouragingly, making sure not to let any of his own fear shine through.

“Clearly I need to stop eating so many of Rapunzel’s cookies,” he said, keeping his voice light as he stepped forward again. The ice cracked as he adjusted his weight and he grit his teeth. But his comment got a small smile out of Catalina and she stepped forward again, close enough for Eugene to grab her hand.

He pulled her close, holding her tightly for a moment.

“You okay?” he asked quietly and she nodded. “Great, because you owe me a pancake for rescuing you.” She rolled her eyes at him and he smiled. “Keep moving slowly, alright, we’re nearly out.”

He tried not to worry too much - the ice had held thus far, there didn’t seem to be much reason for it to crack all the way. But it was making ominous noises and every step caused more fractures to appear.

And then he felt something shift. Instantly, he knew the ice was going to give and he had seconds to act.

Instinctively, he grabbed Catalina by her shoulders and flung her forward, stumbling forward himself. She skidded across the ice with a cry of surprise and Eugene felt the ice crumble around him, earsplitting cracks echoing around the spring.

“Eugene!”

Varian’s shout was the last thing he heard before the water closed over his head.

He had time to take half a panicked breath of air before the water exploded around him, ice and bubbles and darkness making a disorientating mess of chaos, the cold already sinking into him. He kicked, reaching for the glinting light of the surface.

But his hands brushed ice and a bubble of panic filled him. He had no idea where he had fallen in - he was under the ice, unable to surface.

He kicked again, pressing his hands against the ice, moving in the direction he thought he had come from. For all he knew, he could be moving in the opposite direction. Fighting back a scream, he pushed against the ice above him, kicking as hard as he could, ramming into it with his elbow in an effort to break it.

But he couldn’t - could barely see anything and his lungs were beginning to scream for air. He couldn’t get out, he couldn’t break the surface, he couldn’t breathe and the cold was slowing his movements.

He was sinking away from the surface and he kicked up again, weaker this time, his whole body numb from the cold. His lungs were screaming now, screaming for air and he kicked weakly, once again scraping the surface of the ice, panic almost overwhelming.

He clawed against the ice before it sank out of his reach again, and this time he didn’t have the strength to kick up again. He sank, hands reaching for the light, lungs screaming.

A hand grabbed his.

For a moment it was a rush of cold and water and then suddenly, he could breathe again, the cold air slamming into him. He gasped, coughing violently and shuddering.

Hands grabbed him, pulling him up onto the ice and he shivered, still gasping. He collapsed onto the ice, coughing up the last of the water he had swallowed, trying to give his lungs what they burned for, shaking violently.

“Eugene,” a breathless voice called his name and he blinked, looking up to see Varian leaning over him, shaking slightly, his hair dripping wet.

“Hey, kid,” he gasped out, taking in another shuddering breath and trying to push himself up on a shaking arm. Varian lunged forward, wrapping him into a hug and he relaxed into it, too weak to fully return it. “Thanks,” he muttered.

“We should get off the ice,” Angry’s voice pulled his attention and he looked up to see her standing a face paces away, shifting nervously. For a terrifying moment, Eugene looked around for Catalina and saw no sign of her - had she fallen in as well?

“She went to get help,” Varian explained, sensing his panic, and Eugene closed his eyes in relief. He shivered again, the cold biting into his bones. Varian shifted, taking his weight with an arm over his shoulder and staggered to his feet. Eugene didn’t protest, leaning on his brother and closing his eyes as he let Varian guide him off the ice.

Angry ducked under his other arm as they left the ice and Eugene couldn’t help but be grateful to his young friends - he wasn’t sure he would be able to even properly stand, let alone walk. His strength felt drained, like the cold and water had sucked it all away.

Then Varian shuddered under his arm, and he realized the boy had jumped in after him and was just as cold.

“You okay, Goggles?” he asked, his voice slurred through frozen lips. Varian nodded, his teeth chattered, his face flushed unhealthily. “Okay, n-new plan,” he said through chattering teeth, stopping. Angry looked up at him but Varian didn’t respond, swaying slightly and shivering. “We st-tay here until Cata-talina comes b-back with Lance. Wh-where’s Ma-x?”

He shivered violently and Angry ducked out from under his arm.

“I’ll find him,” she said, and vanished into the low undergrowth. Eugene collapsed to the ground and Varian curled up beside him, shaking. With clumsy hands and shaking body, Eugene pulled Varian into him, holding him close so they could take warmth from each other’s body heat.

“Th-thanks, kiddo,” he muttered. Varian shifted, smiling up at him.

“C-couldn’t let you d-rown,” he muttered. “‘Punzel w-would kill me.”

Eugene snorted, wrapping his arms tightly around the boy, trying to stop shivering.

Angry returned a moment later, a worried Max snorting beside her. Ruddiger bounded off the horse as soon as he caught sight of them, wriggling in between Eugene and Varian and curling up close to the younger. Max snorted, huffing a blissfully warm breath into Eugene’s hair.

He didn’t have to ask - the horse sensed what was needed and awkwardly sat, kneeling in the grass beside them. Eugene pulled Varian along with him, pressing into the warm side of the horse.

“Thanks,” he said, and Max snorted. Angry scrambled onto his saddle, leaning down as Eugene and Varian curled into the horse.

“You guys okay?” she asked.

“We will be,” Varian muttered.

“Lance had b-better have hot ch-chocolate ready, I think we des-serve it,” Eugene said, and was relieved to hear a small chuckle from Angry and a snort of amusement from Varian.

Lance did indeed have hot chocolate ready at the treehouse, though by the time he and Catalina had arrived, a bundle of blankets each, and they had made it back to the warmth of the treehouse, the drinks were mostly cold. It didn’t take long to warm up again and Eugene was soon feeling warm, slightly swamped in a spare shirt of Lance’s, his clothes drying by the fire, a blanket tight around his shoulders. Varian was similarly outfitted, being somewhat put out to discover he could fit into Catalina’s clothes.

“You’re like three years younger than me, how come I can fit your clothes?” he demanded, adjusting the blanket around his shoulders to be more comfortable for Ruddiger as the raccoon settled down. She grinned.

“You’re just small,” Angry supplied, and Varian glared at her.

“So’re you,” he shot back.

“Yeah, but I’m young. I’m supposed to be small.”

The last of Eugene’s tension faded from his shoulders as he listened to the children bicker. He adjusted his grip on the mug he was holding and let himself smile.

“I vote no more ice skating on weird lakes until we know the ice is solid,” he said, earning a few chuckles.

“Seconded,” Catalina called from where she was curled up in front of the fire like a contented puppy.

“Agreed,” Varian said, grinning slightly.

“Motion passed,” Lance said from the kitchen behind them. “Now - who wants pancakes?”

The chorus of assent was unanimous.

#tangled the series #tts #rapunzel's tangled adventures #rta #eugene fitzherbert #varian #catalina #angry | keira #idk how to tag them on tumblr tbh #lance strongbow #for a lil bit #ruddiger #whump #drowning #ice #cold #this time on my apparent endless need to make varian COLD

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goosewhisker · 3 years

Text

russetfur vs. the entirety of skyclan || ch. 3

read this on ao3 || read this on fanfiction.net

chapter one

chapter two

summary: After enduring months of Turtlekit and Kitekit’s abuse, Rootkit finally snaps and accidentally awakens his powers. This has the unfortunate side effect of reviving the ghost of an angry Shadowclan warrior who: 1) is personally offended by Skyclan’s existence, and 2) has magnanimously taken it upon herself to relieve the world of that burden. Or something

okay so its been a minute since i posted. a lot of things happened, i got a kitten, a job, a new fandom, and i speedran a full semester of calculus in like the past four weeks. im sorry about how late this is and i cant promise when the next one will be up but its half written already so uh hope springs eternal. anyway thanks for coming to my ted talk

also shoutout to @turquoise-tulip for reminding me that ive had this chapter in my drafts for half a year now this ones for you im sorry its so stupid

Chapter Three: In Which Rootkit Practices the Art of Blackmail

The morning after is quiet.

...is what Rootkit would like to say. Actually, he gets woken up by Tree at what his mom likes to call 'the butt-crack of dawn' to go talk to Leafstar, thereby ruining his chances of being a normal warrior forever.

When they get to the leader's den, Violetshine is already there. Rootkit discovers this by walking into her while his eyes are closed in the middle of a yawn.

"See, he's about to fall asleep on his paws," his mom points out, sounding pretty close to yawning herself. "It's too early for this. Morning, kid."

Rootkit mumbles something that's unintelligible even to himself and falls asleep on his mother's paws. A few minutes later, he's woken by gentle paws on his back.

"Hey, kid. Kiddo. You gotta get up."

Rootkit hums absently, still mostly asleep, before realizing abruptly where he is. Mouse dung! Suddenly, he's completely awake. He jerks his head up, almost colliding with Tree's jaw before he pulls out of the way. Rootkit, too busy panicking, doesn't notice. He just fell asleep in Leafstar's den! After she'd brought him over to talk specifically to him! After seeing this humiliating display of incompetence, she'll really never make him a warrior, and Kitekit and Turtlekit will-

"Rootkit." The single word cuts through the panic. Rootkit looks up to see Leafstar, looking very serious with only a hint of amusement seeping through. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Yes!" The answer bursts out of him before he really thinks it through. And, well, it's not entirely true, but it's not entirely untrue either. Either way, he's up for answering any questions, which is probably what she's asking.

Leafstar looks at him just long enough for him to start fidgeting before she begins. "I've already spoken to your parents, Rootkit, so I know most of the story. I just need to know your side. What happened yesterday with the ghost?"

Rootkit looks at his paws, then back to Leafstar's calming gaze. "It started when I was at the grave. I was just- just talking, and then Kitekit found me..."

He tells her the whole, stupid story. How he'd lost it at Kitekit and Turtlekit and turned around to find a ghost looming over him; how he'd asked Tree for help, only for her to disappear; how she'd attacked him and Tree, announced her intentions, and vanished. At last, the story runs dry and he falls silent to watch her expression change.

Leafstar hums thoughtfully. She turns to Tree. "Do you think she's likely to hurt someone?"

Tree shrugs, looking uncomfortable. "If she's serious, yes. Most ghosts can't touch the living. Those who can - like this one - usually died violently or thinking they were wronged. And angry ghosts tend to be... volatile."

"Ah." Leafstar considers this.

"If it comes to that, what'll you do?" Violetshine asks. "Will you be able to stop her?"

Rootkit watches Tree watch his mom, and something in his dad's eyes soften. He leans over to swipe a tongue over her ear. "You want to help her, don't you?" he says quietly. "Because she's Shadowclan?"

Violetshine flushes, but she doesn't back down. "Many of them weren't kind to me," she says, "But Shadowclan was still my home once. I can't just forget that."

Tree purrs and winds his tail with hers. "That's why I love you," he whispers.

Rootkit sticks his tongue out in disgust. Bleh. Grownups!

"To answer your question," Tree adds, "I don't know what I'll do. I suppose-" he pauses, eyes tight with worry. "I've never exorcised a ghost who didn't want to move on before. I don't know if I even can. This may be something of an experiment."

The grownups look at each other for a long moment. "I will do whatever it takes to keep my clan safe," Leafstar says. There's something like a warning in her voice that makes Rootkit shiver.

"What should I do?" he asks. All three adults look at him like they've forgotten he's there.

After a moment, Leafstar's face breaks into a smile. "Tell you what. You can help by keeping an eye out for this Russetfur and letting one of us know when she's nearby. But listen, Rootkit," and her voice goes stern. "You must stay away from her. Russetfur is dangerous, and she may hurt you to get what she wants. Do you understand me, Rootkit?"

Rootkit looks into Leafstar's amber eyes - warm and worried and burning with a fierce, protective fire - and knows what he has to do. "I understand, Leafstar," he says, and just like that, his mission clicks into place.

From somewhere else in the camp - probably the warriors' den - someone screams, followed by Russetfur's haunting cackles.

Rootkit ignores it.

As he double checks his supplies, Rootkit runs through a mental checklist. He's talked to the ghost - check. He's figured out what she wants - check. He's given her what she wants - well... no. Tree's three-step-plan hadn't exactly accounted for what happened if what the ghost wanted was unobtainable.

Well, it doesn't really matter now. This plan is sure to work.

"Are you sure this is gonna work," Needlekit says again.

"Yes, I am, Starclan above will you stop nagging me," Rootkit says.

His sister makes a disgruntled noise and hauls the next bramble into place with a particularly vicious tug. "I'm just concerned you have no idea what you're doing, is all."

"I know exactly what I'm doing."

Rootkit doesn't have any idea what he's doing.

"Hmm." Needlekit seems thoroughly unconvinced, but she gets on with the task anyway. The trailing brambles she's weaving into place will form a turtle-shell-shaped cage laced with warding herbs over the grave when they're done. The plan is more or less to summon Russetfur into a cage she can't phase through, leaving her unable to escape. In Rootkit's opinion, it's a pretty solid plan for someone who has no idea what he's doing. "Why're you so set on doing this, anyway? Didn't Leafstar tell you not to mess with Gingerpelt?"

"Russetfur," Rootkit corrects her automatically. "And, well, yes, but..." he hesitates. "It's just... you know. I was the one who set her free in the first place, and..."

"Yes?" Needlekit prompts him. She's given up on the brambles and moved to stuffing moss and bracken into the gaps.

Rootkit fidgets uncomfortably for a second before the truth bursts out of him. "And now Russetfur's running wild everywhere and it's all my fault, and what if Leafstar decides not to make me an apprentice? If I don't become an apprentice, I can't be a warrior! And if I can't be a warrior-" he cuts himself off. He can't repeat what Kitekit and Turtlekit had said; even saying the words aloud seems like tempting fate... and he can't burden Needlekit with that, anyway.

Needlekit looks at him, though, and her gaze goes soft. "And being a warrior is your dream," she says, and starts stuffing the gaps with renewed vigor. "Well, come on, then! If we can trap Scarletfuzz then Leafstar will have to make us both apprentices! I can't be an apprentice without you; then I'd have to share the den with just Kitekit and Turtlekit. Can you imagine?" She pulls a disgusted face that has Rootkit giggling despite himself.

"Alright, alright," he says. "While you're doing that..." He shoves aside the piles of bracken they'd collected and settles down on the dirt. In his stories, Tree had never really talked about summoning ghosts - his work had been more about getting them to leave - but Rootkit is pretty confident about his ability to summon her again if necessary. More importantly, one or two of his stories had been about things the average, non-ghost-seeing cat could do to ward off spirits.

Rootkit spreads out his supplies, most of which had been scavenged from the medicine cats through a combination of tag-teaming and white lies. The herbs really are going to help his mom, just not in the way Fidgetflake thinks.

Thistledown. Rosemary. Lavender. Thyme. All plants that either attract or repel spirits, according to Tree (from what Rootkit can remember, anyway). Plus a lot of spiderweb.

"Hey, are you sure that's right?" Needlekit asks, leaning over his shoulder. "I thought we were gonna get some sage. And why'd you pick up the thistle?"

Rootkit frowns. "Well, Fidgetflake was coming back too soon and I panicked, alright? If you've got a problem you can get some more yourself."

Needlekit snickers and prods the massive pile of spiderwebs. "No thanks. I think you could've gotten a little more spiderweb, Frecklewish might still have some left over... yeesh, alright, I'll leave off the sarcasm. You don't have to glare at me."

Rootkit rolls his eyes. The immaturity of some cats. "Maybe I went a little overboard, but we need it. Frecklewish can just send the 'paws out to find some more. Now help me apply it; we need to cover the entire cage so there's no chance of getting out."

It's the work of a few minutes to paste it over with cobwebs, and the work of a few more to weave in all the protecting herbs. With luck, they'll prevent her from just phasing through. By the time they're done, it's so dense that a living cat would find it impossible to escape; Rootkit can only hope that the same goes for a dead one.

"Alright, fire 'er up!" Needlekit commands.

Rootkit closes his eyes to focus, trying to recall the feeling of power rushing through his being. Once, Tree had told them of a time when he'd jumped onto a wire fence and been struck by something he'd called electricity- what lightning is made of, apparently. Rootkit imagines it feels something like that.

The power lying dormant in his veins leaps forth eagerly at his call. It swells like a crescendo of sound, rushing out through his paws into the ground.

Rootkit focuses on the grave with every fiber of his being and wills it to summon its spirit. "Russetfur!" he cries out.

For a moment, nothing happens.

Then, something shifts.

It's like a hole is briefly torn through space; instinctively, Rootkit reaches in, grabs something, and drags it through.

Beside him, Needlekit gasps. "What the heck was that?"

But her voice is wavy, distorted. Rootkit opens an eye and finds his world is tilted sideways. Needlekit makes a high pitched noise that scrapes its claws across the most inner parts of Rootkit's ears.

"M'fine," Rootkit mumbles. His words are slurred, he realizes distantly, because half his face is pressed into the dirt.

Needlekit jabs him. "This is no time for sleeping, Rootkit. Did it work?"

Rootkit blinks. For a moment, he has absolutely no idea what she's talking about; then, the memories start to flood back. He narrows his eyes, remembering the feeling of hooking a soul on his clawtips like a fish. "I think-"

He's interrupted by an infuriated caterwaul that drowns out whatever he was going to say.

"What is this?"

The cage shakes as its captive throws her entire weight against the wall, but it holds steady. The herbs have done their job; even a ghost can't pass through.

Needlekit laughs triumphantly. "It's bad kitty jail for bad kitties!"

Russetfur snarls back something absolutely obscene and proceeds to attack the inside of the cage with a ferocious determination. At least, Rootkit thinks she is; it's kind of hard to tell since they can't actually see her.

"Can she get out?" Rootkit wonders.

"No," Needlekit says at the same time Russetfur snaps, "You bet your kittypet hide I will."

Rootkit blinks.

"Literally," Russetfur adds. "Because I'll strip it off your back to line my nest."

"Oh." Rootkit drops his head back on the ground. The dirt here is very comfy, he realizes. Maybe he should just sleep here from now on. "Yeah. That was kind of unclear."

"It'll become very clear in a few minutes, runt. I'll even give you a demonstration."

Needlekit leans against the cage with a smirk that probably would have been infuriating, if Russetfur could actually see it. "Don't worry, Redpelt, you're clear as crystal."

Rootkit freezes. Even the scraping sounds coming from inside the cage cut off. "What was that," Russetfur says suspiciously. "Did you just-"

"Keep your spirits up," Needlekit says. "I'm sure you'll be back to your old haunting grounds in no time."

Rootkit tries to slam his head into the ground and discovers that it's really much harder to do when you're already lying on it.

Russetfur doesn't say anything.

"What's wrong, ghostie? You're as silent as the dead in there."

Then a translucent ear rises out of the ground right next to Rootkit's face and he screams loud enough to be heard halfway to Riverclan, probably, and scrambles out of the way. Needlekit screams, too, and then Russetfur is climbing out of the ground like a corpse emerging from its grave.

She shakes herself off and grins down at them with more teeth than a cat should rightfully have. "You forgot to ward the bottom," she says. Rootkit makes a very small sound that definitely qualifies as a whimper. "What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."

All the fur on Needlekit's body has bushed out so she looks twice her size - which, compared to the full-grown warrior before them, is almost nothing. She's shaking like a leaf, but undaunted, she spits at Russetfur's feet. "Drop dead!"

Rootkit could kill her.

In a blur of movement, Russetfur pins Needlekit to the cage wall with one paw. "I admire your spirit, kit," she hisses. "But if you want to sass me, you're digging your own grave."

That's it. Rootkit has had enough. That is the final stars-damned straw. "Shut up with the stupid ghost puns, I swear to Starclan," Rootkit screams.

The wind rustles gently in the treetops as the two she-cats stare at him.

"The next person to make a single stars-cursed ghost pun, I am going to snap your fleabitten neck. Is that clear?"

Needlekit makes a stifled noise muted by the heavy paw slowly crushing her windpipe.

"Ah." Russetfur looks to be considering it. "Would you say we're dead m-"

Rootkit makes a very aggressive series of throat-slitting gestures.

"...you've got your father's spirit in you, I see."

"I brought you into this world and I can take you out of it," Rootkit snarls.

That gets her attention. Russetfur's eyes widen, then narrow. "Oh?" Her voice is considerably less friendly.

This is where it gets tricky. Rootkit's at a disadvantage - he's just seriously ticked off a relatively powerful ghost with a grudge against his relatively powerless clan, she's got his sister by the throat, and his only bargaining chip is a bluff. But there's an opportunity somewhere here; he just has to navigate a very prickly, very dangerous minefield and pray he doesn't blow them all up.

Time to channel his inner Tree. "Look," Rootkit says, in his best diplomat voice. "Clearly, we both want something here, something that we can provide for each other. What do you say we make a deal?"

Russetfur narrows her eyes and tightens her grip on Needlekit. "I don't think you're in a position to bargain, here," she says.

"On the contrary." Rootkit raises a paw. "I am in every position to offer a deal... as you just experienced yourself."

Russetfur scoffs. "What could you possibly have to offer me?"

"Your life."

That gives her pause. "If you could exorcise me, you'd have done it already."

Rootkit gives his best imitation of her knife-sharp smile and proceeds to lie through his teeth. "What do you think we were doing just now?"

The ghost narrows her eyes and says nothing.

Rootkit seizes his opportunity and plows onward. "You don't want to be exorcised, and we don't want you in our camp. So here's the deal - you leave and we don't follow." The last few words are growled out, like Leafstar whenever someone threatens the clan.

It's very intimidating, in his opinion, but it doesn't seem to have an effect in Russetfur. If anything, it only seems to make her angrier. "I won't sacrifice my honor as a Shadowclan cat to run from a bunch of kittypets," Russetfur snarls, leaning closer. "Even if you kill me again, I'd sooner die fighting for my clan than kowtow to some coddled housepets."

Rootkit grits his teeth. She hasn't called his bluff, but they can't have her running loose and hurting people. Think, Rootkit! "Another deal, then," he says. "If you won't leave the camp, then you just can't hurt anybody."

"No deal," Russetfur snaps.

"That's the final offer," Rootkit says coldly. "Under no circumstances are you allowed to hurt or injure any Skyclan cats. I'm not going to compromise on that point. And you can't really afford to bargain, anyway," he adds with a shrug. His heart is pounding so loudly he's almost sure Russetfur can hear it. "If you don't, I'll just summon you into the cage again and exorcise you for good. Or who knows? Maybe we'll leave you in there for a while. And this time we'll cover the bottom." He finishes with the nastiest, most hateful smile he can muster - which isn't particularly difficult, right now.

Russetfur goes silent. He can practically hear the gears in her brain ticking as she weighs her options. There's clearly only one real option here; he just hopes she isn't too prideful to take it.

"Fine," Russetfur growls, voice so low he has to strain to hear it. "Fine. I agree to your terms." The hatred seeping from her voice is almost palpable.

Well, the feeling is absolutely mutual. Rootkit dips into a little bow and bares his fangs in a farce of a smile. "Pleasure doing business with you."

Russetfur disappears into the air, leaving Needlekit to slump to the ground, wheezing. Rootkit waits until he's certain the ghost is gone before sinking onto the ground himself, body shaking with all the fear he couldn't allow himself to show before. Holy crap.

"Are you," Needlekit begins, then cuts herself off with a raucous bout of coughs that makes him wince. "Are you... okay?" she whispers hoarsely.

Rootkit makes a high-pitched, keening noise before breaking into nervous laughter. "No, no, not even a little bit. Oh, Starclan, I can't believe I'm alive, I thought she was going to kill us both. Oh stars..." he trails off with a giggle and buries his face in the dirt.

They lie there for a couple minutes, the silence broken only by Needlekit's wheezing and Rootkit's trembling.

"I want Mom and Dad," Needlekit whispers.

Rootkit couldn't agree more.

#warrior cats #warriors fanfiction #wc #wc fanfiction #warriors #rootspring #needleclaw #russetfur #tree #leafstar #violetshine #now that the general premise is done #everything from here on out is stupid ghost shenanigans #you know #if i ever get around to writing them

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 4 years

Text

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 10: Premonitions]

Several weeks and depressive episodes later...I’m BACK! 😃

And guess what: we’re officially approximately halfway done with BYCNL! (There will probably be nineteen chapters total.)

The Queen/BoRhap fandom is feeling extra quiet lately, so if you’re still out there I’d LOVE it if you dropped me a comment/message/etc to let me know! I appreciate you all so much and hope you are finding things that bring you happiness, fulfillment, and peace. 💜

Chapter summary: Roger makes a purchase, Freddie makes a friend, Y/N makes an unsettling discovery, John makes a bewildering request.

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language, babies (but not your babies...or are they?!).

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii @loveandbeloved29 @killer-queen-xo @maggieroseevans @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark @im-an-adult-ish @queenlover05 @someforeigntragedy @imtheinvisiblequeen @joemazzmatazz @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @namelesslosers @inthegardensofourminds @deacyblues @youngpastafanmug @sleepretreat @hardyshoe @bramblesforbreakfast @sevenseasofcats @tensecondvacation @bookandband @queen-crue @jennyggggrrr @madeinheavxn @whatgoeson-itslate @brianssixpence @simonedk @herewegoagainniall @stardust-killer-queen

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! 😊

“Roger, this is too much.” Your sandals click on the marble tile floor, a sandy gold like the beaches of Ostia. You peer up at the winding staircase, the Tudor-style diamond windows, the chandelier dripping with crystals. “This is way, way, way too much.”

“There’s no such thing as too much,” he parries merrily. “And look!” He pulls back an armful of sheer white curtains that had obscured the backyard. “The pool has a slide!”

You smile because you have to; he’s so elated, so young. “Roger, baby, unless you’re planning to acquire a literal harem of women we will never have a use for six bedrooms.”

“Sure we will!” He counts on his rugged fingers. “There’s one for us, and one can be the guest bedroom for when my mother or your parents visit, and then there’s one for if Chrissie ever wises up and leaves that wanker Brian and requires a place to stay between husbands, and one for when John needs an escape from that mind-numbing domestic purgatory of his, and one for Freddie’s overflow cats...” Roger trails off. He’s lost track.

“That still leaves one unnecessary bedroom.”

He grins. “One for Roger Junior.”

“Oh my god.”

“It’s a wonderful home for children,” the real estate agent chimes, flitting around rearranging pillows and dusting off tabletops. “Plenty of space to spread out in, lots of bedrooms, fenced-in yard, security gate, spectacular school district...and such a lovely garden to explore! Does your wife garden?” she asks Roger.

“Girlfriend,” he corrects. “And no, she’s thoroughly useless in the agricultural department.”

You laugh and shove him away. “I have other talents.”

“You certainly do.” He growls as he grips your waist, inhales you, bites playfully down your neck and collarbones. The real estate agent raises her eyebrows, but politely averts her gaze and pretends to check if an artificial fern needs watering.

It’s the downturn of August, 1976. The sun is glaring and hot and spills in through the windows, setting the metallic flecks in the marble floor alight. It makes you think of the Yellow Brick Road, of fantasies built piece by piece into truth. John and Veronica bought a house in Putney, Brian and Chrissie a far larger one in Chelsea, Freddie and Mary a posh flat in West Kensington. Roger has his heart set on nothing less than a Surrey mansion. On the rare occasion that Queen has been home since the start of the A Night At The Opera Tour, you and Roger stay in his shabby—dodgy, you remind yourself—old apartment and pack boxes late into the evening, giggling over all the random and ancient relics you stumble across, sticks of Freddie’s eyeliner and dust bunnies tangled in strands of Brian’s spiraled hair, crumpled up spheres of paper with excerpts of songs scrawled on them, fossilized crusts of grilled cheese sandwiches beneath the couch. Queen is preparing for a brief UK tour at the start of September, including a free concert in Hyde Park organized by entrepreneur Richard Branson. Then it’ll be back to the studio to record their next album, a highly anticipated album, an album that will make millions regardless of what’s on it; and what’s on it, in your humble and musically unlearned opinion, is pretty goddamn great.

“Seriously,” Roger prompts, quietly now. “Do you like it?”

“Of course I like it. I love it. I just don’t need it.”

He grins. “I know you don’t need it. But I do.”

“That list of yours is getting awfully long.”

“You have no idea. We haven’t even started on the exotic pet collection yet.”

“There’s a marvelous koi pond out in the backyard,” the real estate agent says. “You could add turtles, and frogs, and all different types of fish. I can recommend sturgeon, they have such an alluring primeval sort of look to them, and the shimmer on shubunkins is just delightful...”

“You heard the lady.” Rog stretches his right hand like he does when his arm bothers him, when the bone that will never fully heal aches like something ancient and irredeemable, like hunger, like unrequited love: fingertips sprayed outwards, then folded into his palm, then outwards again.

“Rog...I don’t know.”

“Come on, baby! It has everything. Roman-style master bath. Bedrooms with mirrors on the ceiling. Space for my own studio. Land. Enormous refrigerators. You’ll have abundant room for John’s drawings.”

“Ohhh, now that’s true.” John is always adding to your collection, slipping you sketches as the boys scurry around getting ready before a show, during songwriting sessions that last long after midnight, when the band and its expanding circle of friends and family gather for birthdays and holidays. You don’t ask him about You’re My Best Friend, or, come to think of it, any of his other songs. You don’t ask him how he feels about his new life as a husband and father. And in return, John doesn’t ask whether you’re ever going to marry Roger, if you even want to, if you worry about what the future holds. It’s a loaded peace, but a comfortable one. A safe one.

“It doesn’t bother you, does it?” Roger asks suddenly. “The girlfriend thing. The not-wife thing.”

“No,” you reply, smiling. “Of course not.” Roger isn’t someone who pens love letters, recites all the reasons why he cannot live without you, sings love songs. He rarely speaks of love at all. Roger is as he always is: all action, all energy, eyes forever looking forward. But he does love you; you’re sure he does. Everything he does bleeds with love.

“Good. Because there’s no one I’d rather acquire a harem and zoological park with.”

“Okay,” you relent. “But no lions or tigers or bears. I’m quite attached to your limbs, and you’ve come close enough to ruining them already.”

“Deal.” He taps the Canon that hangs from your shoulder by its strap. “We should document this momentous juncture. One day we can pull out the photo album and show Roger Junior. ‘Hey look kid, this was the day Mum and Dad bought the house you were conceived in.’”

You laugh, almost positive that Roger isn’t serious. “I can guarantee you that precisely zero percent of children would ever want to hear that.” Nevertheless, you ready the camera and hold it as far away as you can, the lens aimed towards you.

“Don’t forget to smile!” Roger trills in his high, victorious voice as he rests his chin in the dip of your collarbone.

You snap the photo. The flash bursts through the kitchen of the Surrey mansion, blinding you both. The artificial bluish light dissipates like smoke.

~~~~~~~~~~

His name is Laszlo, and he’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen...even when he’s not especially well-mannered.

Currently, Laszlo—an Eastern European moniker from somewhere in his mother’s comically vast family tree—is whimpering and squirming against Veronica’s chest as she pats his tiny back and sighs wearily. Veronica, ever the good Polish Catholic wife, is already pregnant again. Chrissie smirks triumphantly and puffs on a cigarette, her rings glimmering on her left hand, her dress violet and new and very expensive. Brian is lost in some deep intellectual conversation with Richard Branson, gesturing with his long nimble hands and nodding empathetically, his dark curls rustling in the breeze like the lithe branches of a willow tree.

“Thank god you’re here,” John calls as you and Roger approach. “Freddie is about to get this concert cancelled.”

“I’m about to make this concert fabulous, darling,” Freddie objects. “We need pyrotechnics, we need sparklers and explosions and fireworks!”

Mr. Branson shakes his head. “Can’t do it, Fred. The embers could travel and set the trees on fire.”

Freddie groans. “Tell him, Roger!”

Roger shrugs, grinning, resting his elbow on John’s shoulder. “I don’t know, maybe we shouldn’t burn down Hyde Park.”

“You’ll be under a huge orange canopy, right over there.” Mr. Branson motions with a sweep of his arm. “You can’t do anything aerial. Flashing lights, sure. Fog, sure. But no fire. No explosions. Oh, and there’s technically a noise ordinance, but we’re working out a deal so the city won’t enforce it on the day of the show.”

“Orange?!” Freddie squeals.

“How will the acoustics be in a tent?” Brian asks, troubled.

John smiles mischievously. “Yes, how dreadful if no one could hear the extraneous guitar solos.”

“I have a gong, Rich,” Roger says. “Everyone will be able to hear my gong, right?”

“Your gong?” Freddie whines. “What about my voice?!”

“I miss stadiums,” Roger grumbles. You exchange a knowing glance with Mary and Chris and Veronica, who is imploring Laszlo to take a bottle. Our boys are difficult, aren’t they?

“The acoustics will be fine,” Mr. Branson snaps. “The tent color will be fine. Everything will be fine. You don’t need any fucking fireworks. Please for the love of god just tell me what kind of sandwiches you want.”

“That’ll be an ordeal as well,” Chrissie quips, and you all laugh; even Laszlo perks up, stops wriggling, glimpses around the open green space with curious greyish eyes like John’s.

Some teenage employee carrying a tangle of cables trots over, sweat dripping down his flushed freckled cheeks. “Mr. Branson? There’s someone from the city here to see you.”

Richard Branson smacks his forehead. “Jesus christ. Okay, I’ll be right there. Hey, Steve, hey, have you seen Dom? Go find Dom and tell her to come over here, okay? Thanks.”

The teenage employee nods and disappears into a sea of bustling people ferrying equipment, fliers, chairs, messages.

“I’m so sorry about this,” Mr. Branson says. “These city bastards are out to crucify me. You’d think they’d be a little more grateful that Queen of all bands is willing to put on a free concert in their backyard, but alas. Hey, Dom, over here!”

He waves to a petite young woman with a glossy shock of black hair and olive Mediterranean skin. She’s wearing all yellow: shorts patterned with daffodils, a tank top the color of butter, a headband like a sunbeam. One of her trim arms is cradling a notebook; the other reaches out so she can shake hands with everyone. The gesture is courteous but somewhat unnatural.

“This,” Mr. Branson begins, “is my personal assistant Dominique. She’s wonderful, she’ll listen to all your pretentious tales of woe and do it with a smile, because she’s a true professional. Better yet, she’s going to ask you the tedious questions I was supposed to so you don’t have to wait for me to finish sparring with the city council. Okay? Okay. Have fun. I’ll be back.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Dom says placidly in a heavy French accent. So that’s why her handshake was off somehow, stilted and weak; the French usually kiss as a greeting. You choke back a snort as you imagine Veronica’s reaction to that. Mr. Branson stalks away muttering about litigious twats.

“Oh, aren’t you just darling!” Freddie circles Dom, admiring her outfit, her hair, her gold hoop earrings. He wafts his cigarette around flamboyantly, completely forgetting to smoke it. “The French are so tasteful, aren’t they? You simply must connect me with your stylist.”

“I would be happy to, Mr. Mercury. But regrettably, I am my own stylist.”

“Ahh!” Freddie exhales, enamored. Mary lifts Laszlo from Veronica’s tired arms and cradles him, tickles his nose, beams down into his fresh and inquisitive face.

Dom pulls a pen from her shirt pocket. “May I ask your sandwich preferences for the day of the show?”

She immediately receives four very different answers, and she raises an eyebrow, her pen hovering over the lined paper of her notebook.

“I’m so sorry about them,” Chrissie says, and Dom chuckles civilly.

“Ham and cheddar,” Freddie tells her, synthesizing the responses. “Bacon, fried fish, steak and onion jam...and something for Brian. Cucumber maybe. Could we get some cucumber sandwiches, dear?”

“You’re a vegetarian?” Dom asks Brian, jotting down notes.

“He’s morally superior to us in every way,” John sighs dreamily, and Rog and Freddie cackle.

“I’m not a strict vegetarian,” Bri clarifies. “But for the sake of the animals and the planet, I try to limit meat when I can.”

Roger adds: “And I order twice as much of it, just to spite him.”

Dominique leads Queen around the portion of Hyde Park where the concert will be held, runs through the itinerary, fields a litany of questions and complaints. And you decide that you like Dom; she’s professional and reserved, yes, but she’s also patient with Freddie, smiles at his jokes, compliments his black-and-yellow striped shirt (“We match, and you remind me of a...oh, what’s the word in English? That bug...it flies around buzzing...buzz buzz...a bee!”), asks him what he’s planning to wear to the show. She assuages Brian, listens to John, takes the time to chat with the women about children, makeup, homes, what it’s like to be in love with rock stars. But Dom mostly ignores Roger, dodges his grins, remains staunchly undazzled. And that would worry you—because Roger loves the chase, you know that firsthand—if he hadn’t already taught you how to trust him, how addictively flawless and exhilarating life with Roger Taylor could be.

When Laszlo begins to fuss in Mary’s grasp, you take your turn holding him; and he blinks up at you with eyes that are wide and clear and seeking, and you find yourself feeling like you always do when you’re around your godson: like maybe you have a stronger opinion about wanting children than you thought you did, like you can’t stop envisioning a baby with Roger’s eyes instead of John’s.

That evening—after leaving Hyde Park, after dinner, after drinks mixed out by the koi pond—as you doze in a sweltering bubble bath and steam curls through the air, you hear Roger’s voice floating from the kitchen downstairs. You rise out of the tub, towel yourself off, slip into a white silk robe as rivulets of bathwater slink down the back of your neck. You tread gingerly towards the kitchen, keep silent so you can hear, lurk in the shadows of the hallway with your palms pressed flat against the wallpaper.

“Hello, is Dominique Beyrand in?” Roger says into the kitchen phone. “I’ve been trying to track her down. Sure, I’ll wait. Thanks.” After a pause, he continues. “Hi, Dom! It’s Roger Taylor, from Queen. The irritating blond one. I was just wondering if you’d happened to stumble across my wallet since this afternoon, I seem to have misplaced it. Oh, you haven’t? Bloody hell. Well, thank you for taking my call. Aw, that’s so kind of you, I’m sure I’ll locate it eventually. I’ve got a terrible habit of losing things. Okay, thanks so much. Goodnight to you too. See you soon. Cheers.” He hangs the phone up as you step into the kitchen. His smile is bright and innocuous. “Hey, baby!”

“Who was that?” Your tone is similarly casual; or so you hope.

“Just Richard Branson’s assistant. That French woman Dominique. I can’t find my wallet and thought I might have left it at Hyde Park, but no dice. Oh well.”

Roger begins rummaging through the drawer full of business cards and address books, tapping his foot, humming to himself. And surely he isn’t trying to avoid my eyes. Your gaze skates over the marble countertop. There, by the refrigerator, just a few feet—a meter, you correct yourself to be properly British—from where Roger stands, is his black leather wallet.

“It’s right there, Rog,” you say, pointing. And now your voice isn’t so nonchalant.

Roger spins to check. “Oh my god, I completely missed it!” He snatches up the wallet with a celebratory chuckle. “I’m such a twit sometimes. You’re too fucking smart, you know that? You’re making me look bad.”

He rushes to you, takes your left hand, bites your knuckles lightly like he did outside Massachusetts General Hospital under dawn skies over two years ago. And then Roger whispers to you, nuzzling your neck scented with lavender soap and doubt.

“Let’s go to bed.”

~~~~~~~~~~

There’s a knock at the door. John is standing on the front porch of the Surrey house with his hands in his pockets and a vague sort of smile on his face. He’s in a black suit.

“Get ready,” he says. “Do your hair, throw on some earrings. Maybe the pearls Roger got you last Christmas. We’re going shopping.”

“Why do I need to look fancy to go shopping?”

John shrugs, feigning indifference; but the puckish glint in his eyes gives him away. Yet there’s something a little sad and weighty in them too, isn’t there?

Your own eyes narrow. “I’m onto you, bassist.”

He laughs as you tug teasingly at a lock of his downy hair. “You always are.”

John takes you to a dress shop on Bond Street where the corsets trickle with gemstones and the designers all have Italian names: Armani, Prada, Abate, Cerruti, Valentino, Biagiotti. He sinks into a leather chair just outside the fitting room and lights a cigarette, takes a long drag, points to you with the lit end.

“Go ahead. Go wild. It’s a blank check.”

“Really?!” You glance around the shop, your pulse racing. “But I don’t know the occasion. I don’t want to be underdressed or overdressed or whatever. Although I don’t think I’ve ever been overdressed in my life.”

“Yes, you can’t seem to shake those pragmatic service industry roots, can you?” Another drag. “You need a dress and matching shoes. Formal, but not too formal. Think a record company party. Elegant but exciting. Lots of sparkle. Slightly slutty, if you’re so inclined.”

“This is an unconventional bonding activity,” you tell John, trying to conceal your nerves.

“Love, this isn’t something you can fail at,” he says, gently now. “You’re going to look amazing no matter what. So just have fun with it. This isn’t a test. This is one of those adventures you’re always searching for.”

I can promise you that your life will never feel like a cage; that’s what Roger once told you. But maybe you don’t always want to be quite so free, so unmoored. “Okay. But you have to swear to give honest opinions. I don’t want to show up looking like a wombat because you were too nice to say anything.”

John just chuckles to himself, shakes his head, devours cigarette after cigarette.

With the assistance of one of the shop employees, you climb into a pastel pink dress with a full ruffled skirt, an emerald green dress with an empire waist and loose sheer sleeves, a shimmering metallic silvery dress with a form-fitting silhouette. John nods at all of them, wholeheartedly approves, defers to your judgment. He periodically consults his wristwatch as he taps his cigarettes on the rim of an ashtray, and deflects your questions when you ask him why. Then you step out of the fitting room—balanced on gold heels—in a white dress with a hem that hits just above your knees, a halter neckline, a slim keyhole down the center of your chest; and John’s cigarette tumbles out of his fingers.

“That’s the one,” he breathes, soaking it in. Then he asks the employee to cut off all the tags and whips out his wallet. “Toss your old clothes and shoes in a bag. We gotta catch a cab.”

“We’re going straight to the party?”

“We certainly are.”

“What the hell kind of ridiculously lame party starts at 3 p.m.?”

John smirks craftily. “The kind of party we’re going to. Let’s rock and roll, Florence Nightingale.”

John gives the taxi driver an address and you sail through the streets of London, splashing through shallow evaporating puddles, squinting when sunlight ricochets glaringly off the slick pavement. The taxi rolls to a stop outside of a grand stone building with columns and intricate carvings of leaves and flowers. The sign outside reads: Kensington and Chelsea Register Office.

You turn to John. “Who’s getting married?!”

He just smiles, a deep harbor of secrets.

“It’s Fred and Mary, right? Jesus christ, John, you can’t wear white to someone else’s wedding, Mary’s going to strangle me—”

“It’s not Mary’s wedding.”

Slowly, your jaw falls open. “No,” you whisper in disbelief.

John darts out of the taxi, jogs around to your side, and opens the door for you. You gape up at him senselessly, struggling to remember how to form sentences.

“John...this...this is some bizarre and elaborate joke, right?”

“Nope.” He offers his hand, helps you out of the taxi, leads you up the front steps of the Register Office. Inside, everyone is waiting: Freddie and Mary, Brian and Chrissie, Veronica with babbling baby Laszlo, Roger’s mother and sister...and Roger, of course, in his best black suit and bleached blond hair and trademark guaranteed-to-dazzle (unless of course you’re Dominique Beyrand) grin. He flies to you and takes your hands in his.

“You look incredible, baby.”

“Roger, what’s going on...?”

“Don’t freak out,” he commands, and instantly your panic vanishes. There’s a pink rose pinned to his lapel. “I know we don’t feel like we need to get married. I know we agree it doesn’t mean anything.” Is that still true? “So don’t think that this is about trying to trap you or control you or bullshit white picket fences or anything. And of course you can say no, I won’t be mad, no one will hold that against you, we can find some other reason to party. But the simple facts are that I’m a British national with a mansion and a plethora of perpetual royalties and you’re an American here on a work visa, and the law gets a bit thorny in this situation. And I want to make sure you’re taken care of if something happens to me. That you can carry out my wishes. That you can stay here with the band as long as you want to. So, I’ve got your passport and birth certificate and everything else we need...and some overly-enthusiastic witnesses. Are you cool with signing a piece of paper today?”

“Of course she bloody well is!” Freddie exclaims, and everyone laughs. Mary is carrying a basket full of champagne flutes, Chrissie several bottles of pink champagne, Roger’s sister a tub of ice. Brian has been entrusted to chronicle the event with your Canon. Veronica is more giddy than you’ve ever seen her, even more animated than she was at her own wedding. Well, I suppose she doesn’t have to worry about any illicit pregnancies or condemnatory great aunts this time around.

“Okay,” you tell Roger. And you wish you weren’t beaming so broadly your cheeks ache, because it feels a little pathetic to be this happy about an admittedly meaningless wedding. But it does make you happy, your general aversion towards conventionality be damned.

You sign papers and you toast glasses and you giggle uproariously in the lobby of the Register Office with the best friends you’ve ever had, guzzle pink champagne, pose for photos, take your turn holding Laszlo, kiss Roger beneath the stone arch of the centuries-old building.

It doesn’t mean anything, you remind yourself, suddenly very aware of the missing weight of a ring on your left hand. It doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t mean anything.

But you catch a few furtive glances between Chrissie and Bri, the twist of a frown on Freddie’s face when he thinks no one is watching, the distance in John’s shadowy eyes as he inhales champagne like air.

It doesn’t mean anything.

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imma-lil-teapot · 4 years

Text

TMNT 2003/2k3 Headcanon: Crying - (Leonardo)

Feel free to scroll past this first part if you’re not interested in my silly rambling and nonsense. I won’t mind. Promise. ;)

Okey-dokey then, with the global epidemic that is the Coronavirus well in action and most of the world stuck in lockdown (starting this Friday for us too), felt like getting the ��ol creative juices flowing with a little headcanon-y thingy in preparation for -possibly- more fandom writings to keep myself busy during the house arrest (well... it kinda is!) and hopefully my mind off all the bad news. :(

Also, this is totally my first one on the blog! WOOT! Please bear in mind that I’m SUPER rusty! Haven’t written in ages so there are bound to be typos and all matter of general errors scattered throughout the post. Don’t pet them! They bite!

Anyhoo~ Despite attempting to create and share with the goal in mind to uplift spirits, I decided to start on a rather upsetting subject (PLEASE DON’T LEAVE! They end on happy notes ;) ) because, Imma just come and say it, I enjoy seeing my favourite characters shed tears (not for just any old reason -their personality plays a huge role in this- and CERTAINLY not for sadistic reasons, land sakes no! But... well, you’ll see~ ;) ) It makes me all gooey and fuzzy inside to see them display such raw emotion and I just wanna leap into the TV screen to hug and console them. I dunno why. Maybe I’m nuts like that. (Remembers Raph crying at the farm when Leo was badly injured and wishes she could just hug them all and take away the pain) Oh well, if you enjoy visualizing the same, then *High Fives*. :)

So yeah, if you read the title, you’ll know this is based on the 2003/2k3 series (my favs). Hope you all enjoy~ :D Grab tissues cause sad turts ahead! :’(

Jibber jabber stops here~

TURTLES~

LEONARDO - You are here

RAPHAEL

DONATELLO - Coming soon

MICHELANGELO - Coming soon

WARNING(S): Because of the subject, Angst and Hurt/Comfort will be present.

RATING: G (General)

WORD COUNT: Don’t have the foggiest.

ANYTHING ELSE TO ADD:

And apparently gifs too, so without further ado: (Completely unintentional but in actuality, totally intentional rhyming)...

TO THE HEADCANONS~~~~

~LEONARDO~

-- It’s no easy feat to make the leader in blue turn on the waterworks. Leo won’t cry for any old reason. It’s not because he has no emotions, far from it, but being the leader of a small ninja clan -who happen to be family as well- is no easy task in itself: he has a lot on his young shoulders and deals with many issues on a daily basis few his age ever have to.

-- It’s because of these reasons that Leo doesn’t cry often. One of the lesser likely to out of the four brothers. But when he does, it’s an emotionally distressing sight to behold.

-- Leo tends to cry whenever those closest to him -namely his brothers, his father/master and truest friends- are severely injured or are in a dire situation. Remember his angry/moody arc? The thought of losing any of them causes him great pain and distress, especially if he were the cause of any of it, and when that happens, he can’t stop the dampness that forms around his eyes and soaks into his mask.

-- He’s not fond of crying, especially in front of others, even though he fully comprehends its normalcy. He feels he needs to be everyone’s rock, their fortress of physical and emotional stability to turn to for strength when things get rough... So when the tears start to fall, he feels he can’t show them, can’t allow them to watch him crumble under the gripling weight of helplessness and anguish.

-- He frantically wipes at his eyes and desperately attempts not to sniffle, but it’s a hopeless battle, for his tears are already a steady stream.

-- He’ll try to hide when possible, usually retreating to his room to allow the worst of the emotions to spill over before returning to the others... Though he may be in there a while: when Leo lets his emotions go, it can be just as powerful as his red-banded brother’s rage.

-- He spares no time in making sure the coast is clear for the tears are already streaming by the time he reaches his futon, and there’s no stopping them now as he lets himself drop to his knees, only halfway onto the mattress. He purposefully leaves the room unlit, cloaking his form in the darkness.

-- He sniffs a few times as he shuffles up against the wall, sitting upright against it, bringing his legs up and hugging them loosely and droops his head against a single knee pad.

-- His voice desperately wishes to escape. To express its misery. But he won’t allow it to, often placing one hand over his face in a bid to quell the sadness and remain silent in the battle against his own inner turmoil. He refuses to let anyone see him in that state of utter sorrow and vulnerability.

-- He whimpers ever so slightly and coughs a few times as breathing becomes difficult. He knows this episode won’t be over any time soon. Fortunately, he keeps some tissues next to his bed for such rare occasions and tries not to blow too loudly. He thinks back to the last time he cried so hard... It’s been a while. It felt like a build up.

-- Time has been forgotten as he’s lost in deep thought. By the time he slips a hand across his eyes, only the material of his mask is still slightly damp. He clears his nostrils a couple of times before considering whether he was ready to return to his family. He’d of course straighten up his bedding beforehand, and would also require a trip to the bathroom to wash his face. A true ninja leaves no evidence.

-- Leo tries to put the horrifying images out of head before leaving his quarters. He doesn’t wish to be weighed down again and thus maybe cause his emotions to come out a second time. He knew someone would catch on that time. Instead, he holds his head up high, focusing on the there and now to carry him forward.

BONUS EXTRA~

-- Failure is also one of his greatest foes. Leo despises it, but not in the irrational sense; he fully comprehends that in order to grow, one has to lose in order to learn and thus, succeed in turn, and while it can frustrate him when he’s unsuccessful at mastering a martial arts technique for example, he understanders it’s part of the process and that no one’s perfect.

-- It’s when his slipups could spell casualties or death to his family and/or friends is when it weighs down on him like a boulder strapped to his shell.

-- A really big one.

-- And it hurts. So much so that it causes him to become despondent and often teary-eyed when no one’s looking.

-- Boi Bloo might also cry from especially sad movie scenes. He gets seriously into the story, and when the scene is just right -perfect music, perfect timing etc.- you may just catch Fearless with watery eyes.

-- He can’t help it. After all, he’s a leader, and very caring and kind-hearted individual, so movies showing children or anyone/anything defenceless getting hurt has him not only visibly upset, but also angry at the cause. He’s a softie like that.

-- He won’t have a meltdown, of course, but the tears are definitely there. Just don’t tease him too much; he’s easily embarrassed by it. ;)

BONUS EXTRA EXTRA FEMALE READER OR S/O EDITION~ (Can also use an OC/FC insert if you wish, up to you)

You had figured something was up by the time you’d finished greeting everyone in the Splinterson household except for the Turtle you’d long to see most and he hadn’t made his presence yet known.

The idea that he must’ve been practicing or meditating swiftly vanished when Mikey told you he’d been in his room in the dark for the past few hours. “The guy hardly ever naps, and even so, never this long.” He’d told you. “I dunno, (Y/N), we were about to check on ‘im when you arrived, but maybe you should be the one to. Think he’d really appreciate it.” And there was absolutely no argument from your side as you were already making your way up to the room.

You didn’t know what to expect as you neared the doorway. Could he possibly still just be sleeping? Meditating in the dark instead of his usual spot by the training area? Or... was he sick? The latter now had you concerned and you picked up your pace... Only to pause mid step when an unmistakable sound reached your ears: a sniffle.

Had it come from within his room? It was the only logical explanation as everyone else was downstairs. You were truly perturbed now as you stood outside the doorway and called out the ‘eldest’ Turtle’s name.

There was some shuffling to be heard but you were unable to tell for sure what he was doing -probably trying to neaten up his bed- “(Y/N)? Just a second, okay?” he responded in a rather awkward verging on frantic tone, and you were certain you heard another sniffle escape him.

That, along with the way he’d replied really didn’t help to put your mind at ease. “Leo, are you alright?” Nor was the pitch blackness in which he remained concealed in.

“Yeah, just... l-looking for something.” There was some more shuffling as if to prove his point, but you were having none of it.

“Then maybe this,” you began, turning around to flick the light switch, “will help?”

“No! Wait!” But it was a split second too late for as soon the brightness illuminated the entire room, you had caught the telltale signs of an emotional meltdown in progress plastered on his face before he quickly turned away and briskly wiped an arm across his face, attempting to hide the shame... or perhaps embarrassment?

“Leo...?” your heart and voice softened, “Hey, what’s wrong?” You automatically walked to him, closing the gap he was now trying to form.

“Nothing,” he lied, and acknowledged it was a fruitless attempt but still couldn’t stop himself. Autopilot panic mode was enabled now. “It’s nothing.”

Unfortunately for him, autopilot mother hen mode was activated for you as you reached with both hands to his carapace and shoulder, gently turning him to face you. “I can see that it’s something.” Your words were gentle, and you wanted nothing more than to take away his pain. “Look at me, Honey.” His body was turned but his head remained to the side. It was clear he didn’t want his obvious distress on display, even to you. “Please, Leo?” You tried again, and slowly but surely, his eyes met yours, and you felt your heart sink further.

The fabric of his mask was wet and eyes were still red with fresh tears that threatened to fall. He appeared so broken and helpless as he stared at you, and even though he uttered no words, you could practically hear him despairingly ask “Is this what you wanted? To see me at my lowest?” from his expression alone.

Never had you witnessed the leader of this band of mutant brothers cry. At times you had wondered if he ever did, and yet here he was; the incredible pillar of strength and dignity you had come to know and adore, in tears and so dejected that you couldn’t stop your own eyes from becoming damp the more you gazed at him. “Oh, Sweety...” You whispered as you felt your soul shatter. It was too much to bear. You slowly wrapped your arms around him, one around the midsection and the other over his shoulder, and buried your face into his leathery neck, offering every ounce of comfort you could muster.

It didn’t take him long at all to sink into the embrace and return the action. Beyond the point of concerning himself with showing the pain he felt -or the wetness now soaking into your shoulder when he placed his forehead against it- he sniffed and finally allowed the tears to fall once again as fresh waves of emotion surged throughout his body.

And this time, he couldn’t keep the whimpering to himself.

“Shh~ It’s okay, it’s okay,” you soothed, lightly patting and rubbing along the scutes of his shell as he weakly sobbed, finally letting go of all the sadness that gripped him.

You weren’t even aware of what was wrong, and you most likely wouldn’t find out til later once he calmed down, but right now, he just needed you to hold him. Hold him until the hurt was gone... And so you would.

AND THAT’S ALL SHE WROTE!

ALL THE FEELS!! I EMBARRASS!!

OMGosh, this turned into a monster! The mother of all HCs!! :O No seriously, this wasn’t meant to be this long! I was suppose to squish all four into one itty bitty little post, but then it just grew... and grew... and GREW! Personally, I blame the Reader Bonus but I’d be damned if I didn’t enjoy writing it! ;P You guys here on Tumblr got me slightly addicted to them and have wanted to attempt some myself so... Anyhoo~ I can’t really say if I’m entirely content with the whole thing, I dunno. I feel some parts are better than others (writing style-wise) but yeah, I really need to get back into the swing of things...

Speaking of which, I DO plan on adding my two cents on the other bois as well, but judging by how this one turned out, they’ll most likely all be this length, more or less, so each Turt will get his own post so I can really jot down those details with all the freedom in the world! That being said, I can’t say when they’ll be added but hopefully soon-ish. :) Raph's next on the list!

Thank you all so much for the read and hope you enjoyed~ :D

~Drag0n Mistr3ss’ Random Fandoms*

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kc-anathema · 4 years

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Reblogging ‘cause I don’t like being swiped at.

More rise of the tmnt bitching. A lot of bitching, actually.

Not surprised a lot of long term fans hated this show. Just because a show has its fans doesn’t mean it’s above criticism, or that it doesn’t suck. And man, this show had a ton of things to dislike. This, coming from an old school fan who had major issues with some of the original Mirage comics, hated portions of the original cartoon, and disliked swaths of the 2012 toon. (Miss me with the stupidity of the Next Mutation and the Bayverse.)

I could go off on the Rise version of ‘splinter’, which is hilarious when you know I hate most incarnations of Splinter. This one was just bottom of the barrel and the show knew and shifted on it, but there was no way to change that much from such a terrible initial characterization.

And I could definitely go off on April, who had vapid characterization, nothing in the way of conflict, and just stagnated through the show. I find a lot of April’s boring, but this one was bad. Not the worst--that’s still original toon, but still pretty bland.

The less said about the villains, the better--they were boring, disgusting, and frankly, I’m still a little insulted that lgbt representation came in the form of a hippo and a goddamn worm. Of course not a main character. Sorry, I don’t like acting happy for scraps, and this was shit scraps.

However, the real issues came with the crap humor, nauseating designs, and the complete lack of substance.

All of this is hard to discuss as they’re each a distinct issue but yet they bleed into each other. If I had to sum up, a simple comparison would probably work.

The series that looked like this...

Straightforward, stylized, different than before but played straight. That’s where the show shined. That’s where the show could have been something good. A new set of designs, a different take on the characters, giving them room to grow and change and echo. This had such potential that it’s what makes me so pissed at the creative team behind the show that they gave us this instead:

That.

And you know what, I’m adding in the other one:

I nearly threw up at this. This is just gross-out humor focused on complete non-entities. And the whole show was like this--either the designs were disgusting or else the show ignored the main characters to focus on something I didn’t come to watch. Was anyone seriously invested in the brotherly drama of the two characters above? Instead I see Leonardo getting pushed to the side, which seemed to happen in several episodes where the main four are ignored so some third tier character can take the spotlight, usually for a throw-away laugh, and...that’s not why I tried to watch this?

Add the crap pacing and I’m not surprised this show died. I’ve been hearing about how great the animation was in the finale--I don’t care. Fuck the animation if I don’t care about the characters. There were hints of what they were leading up to with Shredder, and those hints felt interesting and cool, but that’s all they were--hints, well hidden behind sight gags about kicking a foot sign on people’s faces or tickling challenges in a library. It felt like a mess of stupid without any good characterization to back it up.

There were occasional scraps of interesting things--Donatello feels neglected by his father and his family. Raphael is ruled by his emotions and even his positive emotions can betray him. Leonardo has confidence issues and will do unheroic things like run from fights. Mikey is treated like a baby. April seems to be living alone and is lonely. All of these had potential. All of these could have been so great if brought up and developed. This is where the show could have outshone every other incarnation.

Instead the ninjitsu was treated like a joke, the characters served only as punchlines, and the show never won back the audience it alienated.

“But all the callbacks to previous shows!” So what if it referenced previous incarnations? The show wasn’t going to win prizes based on what it could reference. The show has to stand on its own first.

I really wanted this show to succeed. There were elements I wanted to see done well. I knew it could be a dumpster fire, but even that could have been fun. Instead watching it felt like I was doing a chore to stay current with fandom.

I’m not looking forward to anything else in this fandom. I’m done. I’ll be amazed if the seth rogan film is any good. The current comic is boring and badly done with gimmicks. Can they please just give this IP to a team that knows how to write characters and not gags?

update:

Confession, not quite sure what you mean, plz feel free to clarify. If you mean the changing incarnations what I liked about the differences...there is a core to these characters that is fun to explore, twist, shift, stretch, and throw into a fire. Watching the high drama that results and the unexpected ways they react is the fun of this experience.

2012--Raphael admits he can’t handle putting his brothers in harm’s way and yields fighting for position. Leo isn’t the best fighter but is the best tactician. Splinter is actually good for the first few seasons. 2003--Michelangelo is the most emotionally intuitive character. Donatello is absolutely in wonder at the world around them. Mirage--the highway dimension issue. The way they mail themselves to Egypt. And Rise--the way Leo runs from the fight and stealths the rest. Michelangelo’s art splattered everywhere. Donatello’s leather shell. And yet so much of that went nowhere.

This fandom is like a buffet--take what you like, leave the rest, and make your own meal. And Rise had the chance to leave a whole new pile of fandom pickings well beyond what the Beyverse threw down. But...nope. Sight gags and boring, lackluster characterization.

The characters were born out of a dark, urban comic book with a very dark take. Five mutants in the city cistern, intent on revenge against the clan violence that turned them into deadly warriors. The very fact that this farfetched idea can be played so deadpan should indicate that its humor is best played straight, like there’s nothing weird about any of this. It can be the most hilarious when it’s being 100% sincere. There is an emotional core there that has lasted almost as long as I’ve been alive. It’s when people go out of their way to make it humorous that it just fails so hard. They’re four turtles who are ninjas. It’s already a joke. That’s the lowest hanging fruit possible. The trick is to make you care enough to watch and find them cool.

Y’know what’s funny? I was willing to try up until I got to the capybara episodes. And then I was just...yeah. Whatevs.

#in a nutshell #rant

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sparkwhorunswithwolves · 4 years

Note

Hey, so I just kind of fell into this fandom a few weeks ago and you seem like a really nice person :) Do you maybe have some fic recs?

Hi! Welcome to the fandom~

I have a lot of fic recs (ft. my own not that helpfull summeries), so in no particular order:

Running with Wolves

Stiles goes back in time and becomes a werewolf.

Odnowione życie

Stiles goes back in time, twice.

The Tragedy of Achilles Hale

petopher— Peter is looking for Chris’ and his bio son he thought had died shortly after he was born— while he accidentally starts parenting Jackson. His biological son. Not that either of them knows that.

A Beauty, a Beast, and a Stiles

Stiles gets bitten instead of Scott ft. stallison

A New Start

post canon pre!stira

Adult Supervision (Position Open, Searching for Responsible Adult)

Kira and Stiles get eaten by a giant evil dimension traveling turtle and complain about the adults

Missing Scenes

missing... well, scenes

Similarities

IED!Liam bonds with ADHD!Stiles

Afar

stallison bonding over Skype while Stiles stays with family recovering from the nogitsune

Curious pup

Stiles’ curiosity is a perfectly good reason to go to Eichen and ask Peter an Valek about organ transplants

Shatter

Stiles and Scott bond over Deaton being an ass and Stiles not being able to be Scott’s emissary

And the Walls Come Crumbling Down

stallison joining Peter’s pack while Scott is losing control and going after Allison

Conscience

the parking garage scene, but Stiles’ dad was involved in covering up the fire

It's All In Your Head

more ADHD!Stiles

Stained Glass Windows

petopher— Peter and the kids survive the fire, and struggles to keep the kids alive and happy while finding the one who killed their family, with help of Chris

Give You the Sunset

Peter leaves Beacon Hills, Stiles helps

The Argent-Stilinski Household

Chris/Noah— Stiles and Allison find out their dads are secretly dating, kill everything that tries to kill them witout them finding out, Peter helps and becomes an alpha again. Also: a wedding, aliens, and Tony Stark trying to kill Stiles because he told Steve to hide his coffee

Nothing Ever Happens in Sioux Falls

Stiles stays with Bobby Singer, and, Stiles being Stiles, gets involved in the local drama

foreverish and selfsubtracting

Stiles, Lydia, and Danny lose their friends in Beacon Hills, get abducted by a carnivorous, space-bending library, and meet some Avengers.

^^I’d add my own summery but that’s pretty much it

we've been here before

Stiles accidentally resurrects a bunch of people. Whoops?

the sound of iron on stone

Stiles goes back in time, but get cursed and can’t go anywhere near the supernatural

Right, wrong and everything in between

Peter bonds with bb!Stiles over gummybears and selfworth

Inevitable

Stiles and Scott get trapped in a time loop, kill people, get killed, call each other a monster, and Stiles gets the pack he deserves.

i looked at you and saw forever

stallison s1 rewrite ft. soulmates

Triumvirate Outtakes

sequel to I looked at you, warning for very big spoiler if you havent read it first

Mirror-and-Steve Boy

Stiles is Steve’s and Bucky’s grandson. Because science.

I am no sidekick

Stiles Stilinski & Peter Parker oh my god they were roommates

dust off these cobwebs

unrelated, but same concept as the one above

Hard to Believe it's Not Dead and Gone

tw/soa zombie crossover

There Are Many Names In History (but none of them are ours)

petopher²— Peter and Chris are stuck with their teenaged selves for the foreseeable future, ft past relationship, current feelings, and me still crying about that one scene 3 years later

you're never too much of an old dog to teach a duckling a new trick

Chris offers to train Stiles. Stiles isn’t Allison

Bet You Didn't See That Coming

The pack takes Stiles’ memories, thinking it’d keep him safe. Except he’s a Winchester who doesn’t need protecting

Mothers And Fathers

Stiles is Bruce Banner’s son. It goes about as well as you’d expect

Normal Adolescent Lycanthrope Behavior

all the teens are in a polyam relationship, ft alive Hales, asshole Wittemores, and trees used as baseballbats

Tell Me No Lies

Peter gets hit by a truth spell, Stiles is the only one who isn’t an ass about it

Those Who See

Stiles threatens Peter who’s trapped in a mountain ash circle

Not a Spark, But a Burn

Stiles goes back in time to before the Hale fire (haven’t read this one in ages so I can’t be more specific)

another pretty vein (just dies)

Stiles is psychic

Allies

missing scenes between Derek and Chris

You're Gonna Need Someone On Your Side

Chris wants to train Stiles because of hunter politics, Stiles thinks mutual kidnappig is the perfect way to bond with his new mentor, and Derek is just genrally bad at feelings.

Long Lost

Stiles is Harvey Specters long lost half brother. It goes a lot worse than expected

Falling into place

teen wolf/suits crossover, but this time they’re all werewolves

The Hotel Key

petopher— Chris gets kidnapped; the hotel key in his wallet has nothing to do with it

The Inconveniences of Being Dead

petopher— Chris helps Peter with the, well, inconveniences of being dead. Or as I like to call it: the accidental sugar daddy au ft. cats

#teen wolf #All the fics #Fic rec #I would have included the authors but the formatting between ao3 and tumblr is a pain

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battleshell · 4 years

Text

THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE; Mun & Muse - Meme.

fill out & repost ♥ This meme definitely favors canons more, but I hope OC’s still can make it somehow work with their own lore, and lil’ fandom of friends & mutuals. Multi-Muses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm. tagged by: @dansiere whom im care tagging: extremely informative meme for ppl who have lots of cross-over interactions, i encourage u to steal it from me anyway BUT @sternenteile @twelvians @stellamris @grandtales

My muse is: canon / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless / complicated

Is your character popular in the fandom? YES / NO. [ he is a very, very minor NPC that i’ve essentially wrested from the game with my grubby hands; Gerson is a merchant NPC found in Waterfall, the third area of the game focused with water themes. he has less than 100 lines of dialogue (but jam-packed full of info) and doesn’t even have an overworld sprite. although noted to have a history with multiple major characters, it’s not often i’ve seen him be the main focus of any fanfics or art pieces. ]

Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK. [ put that faaaaaaaar away from me please tyty ]

Is your character considered strong in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK. [ i personally believe that Gerson is a strong and potentially powerful monster with fighting capability that could rival some of the stronger Monsters in the Underground due to his background as a fighter during the Human-Monster War, but since has waned in both reputation and fighting skill. we never fight him in game and as such, will never see how he compares numerically, but it’s clear from his dialogue that he knows how to fight professionally/cleverly and would have given a hard challenge. ]

Are they underrated? YES / NO / IDK. [ i mentioned before that Gerson has ties with lots of major characters - I hardly see it being put into action or talked about! i also have a soft spot for elder/older characters in general since they seem to be overlooked in favor for younger characters that carry the action of plots - which I understand and totally get, but I still like to put these characters out there for the sake of it ]

Were they relevant for the main story? YES / NO.

Were they relevant for the main character? YES / NO / THEY’RE THE PROTAG. [ he was a funny merchant dude that said “wahaha” a whole bunch of times and carried a magnifying glass; sure he and Frisk would have been good friends after the golden ending but most people have forgotten about their interaction with Gerson once out of Waterfall ]

Are they widely known in their world? YES / NO. [ as one of the older if not oldest Monsters in the Underground, or from his reputation as the “Hammer of Justice” from wartime. he is also a historian and is noted to have written a few of the books in the Librarby. definitely known in the Underground, but probably only in that community ]

How’s their reputation? GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL. [ as mentioned before, a benefactor to the community and maybe even a sagely figure. a source of wisdom (even if cheeky) and a person of stability ]

How strictly do you follow canon? — ehhhhhhhhhh both extremely canon compliant and then hands off the wheel, let jesus drive me away~ i only have so much canon material to work with so i have milked as much as offered to me, then went off to forge my own path in order to patch up the missing holes then add a few sprinkles. the base of the character is all there, but if you really want to get invested with him (or me) then we have a lot to walk through.

SELL YOUR MUSE! Aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutuals. — old tortoise (NOT TURTLE) guy sells knick-knacks and cracks jokes, knows everyone’s dirty secrets but thinks they’re just funny to think about them than use them. an elder in the community who has stories to tell and lessons to teach, who has lived through half of recorded history and now spends his time just trying to make things around him interesting. a war veteran who protects his community and understands the horror of the world, but keeps eyes looking into the future even in the face of grimness itself. plays the accordion and harmonica, could probably square dance if he knew what that was. will call you kiddo.

Now the OPPOSITE, list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?). — little to no motivation to find a passion for himself that would benefit or service just himself; his entire sense of worth comes from servicing others in some way (being a soldier and protecting people; recording history in order to teach future generations; maintaining a shop in order to literally service others) and lack of action due to decrepitude in old age. close-minded compared to other Monsters, as he doesn’t actually take to think of humans or outsiders kindly; judgmental to the point of being racist. proud and dislikes being one-upped that it could lead to pettiness, and despite his positive outlooks, very pessimistic worldview.

What inspired you to rp your muse? — funfact: Gerson is my first tumblr RP muse ever, and since i was worried about duplicate anxiety when i first started i specifically wrote him since he was a smaller character with less attention - i’ve since learned i have no anxiety about it so it’s no longer a problem, but what keeps me going today is the challenge of writing someone so different from me. the elder aesthetic along with homely, almost cottagecore kind of vibe is also appealing, and the humor that comes with gerson is a joy to write out.

What keeps your inspiration going? — reading literature, music, artwork, pinterest, replaying the game, and doing little hobbies that would embody the character (collecting or sewing, for example) are things i can do by myself, but with other people i have the most drive when i can have friendly and nonpersonal arguments/debates about character motives or about source material like what made a character act like this or that, or about really anything as long as it makes me seriously think about characters critically and force me to recognize flaws.

Some more personal questions for the mun.

Give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters, which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not.

Do you think you give your character justice? YES / NO / I SINCERELY HOPE I DO? [ unfortunately i’m not a tortoise monster who lived for probably centuries if not decades older than myself, but i enjoy writing older characters and hope that other ppl see the potential gerson has like i do ]

Do you frequently write headcanons? YES / NO / SORT OF? [ you know when you have a concept and in your own mind you can see it clearly, without fuzziness or confusion, but you can’t seem to put it clearly into words without it turning into an essay because you need to connect all the other points that’s in the single concept you envisioned? yea. ]

Do you sometimes write drabbles? YES / NO [ bro i should.. ]

Do you think a lot about your Muse during the day? YES / NO [ hmu if you got pinterest and i’ll give u tons and tons of boards ]

Are you confident in your portrayal? YES / NO / SORT OF? [ this is unfair to answer as (AFAIK) i am the only person writing Gerson in... any capacity. despite that i like to think i bring out the humorous side of him, and show ppl that he and other NPCs are tons of potentials and shouldn’t be overlooked because they aren’t popular ]

Are you confident in your writing? YES / NO. [ i always believed my style and my skill in not only PSDs or aesthetics, but analysis or understanding was always a bit plain, without much flourish or complexity. while that is appealing on its own and has its own merits, i can’t help but feel i can always push myself to do a little more, add a little flavor, or paint an image that could only be done in writing. although i am doing enough to get the job done, i’m searching for a certain voice of writing that i like and want to integrate into creative writing in order to make it more personalized and more engaging. ]

Are you a sensitive person? YES / NO. / SORTA. [ i despise pussyfooting and will often tell ppl straight up if i have a problem with them or something about them; straightforwardness, honesty, and integrity are some of my core values and that includes being harsh if it comes to it in order to keep order ]

Do you accept criticism well about your portrayal? — assuming it’s rooted in goodwill or from a point of analysis, absolutely! it’s one of the direct sources for growth and getting better at any craft, but as Tumblr loves to be.... jumpy, i’m always cautious when its not from someone i know.

Do you like questions, which help you explore your character? — YEA BUDDYYYYY

If someone disagrees to a headcanon of yours, do you want to know why? — absolutely, i thrive off friendly discourse as i mentioned.

If someone disagrees with your portrayal, how would you take it? — if we don’t discuss it as above, in lit any other case i’d say “well there are other blogs to follow” but since i’m like 99% sure i’m the only gerson blog that isn’t applicable lmao; the point still stands that everyone has the freedom to write a character as they wish. there are valid reasons to dislike a portayal but not a lot of valid reasons to attack someone for it - with the exception of ppl being gross. stop that, nasty.

If someone really hates your character, how do you take it? — strangely. it’s not my job to make people like a character, you either like them or not. if you dislike them for unreasonable points then, to leave in the previous response, “clowns will be clowns, no matter what you do. I just don’t get why you would follow someone if you hate their character to begin with.”

Are you okay with people pointing out your grammatical errors? — of course, as long as it’s polite and all that jazz!

Do you think you are easy going as a mun? — depends on the meaning - i like making new friends and i find it easy to talk to new people, be it about roleplay or other things like organizing video game play sessions. however, i also have on multiple occasions have approached ppl privately saying “this is annoying/this is problematic/this is inappropriate, stop” and been met with general disdain for voicing such so Who Knows..... (tm). at least on a private level. here, publicly, i’m pretty relaxed! memes and jokes are abound. as long as a person can be mature and responsible for their actions we can vibe, yo.

#definitely plan to link this in rules or something #as a guide for newcomers #what a nice meme!#* verbatim ⟐ meme.

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wingsoffireaus · 5 years

Text

Fanfiction Recommendations

Just a few of my personal favorite Wings of Fire fanfictions. I'm going to try and keep them organized but no promises.

Also please give these fics love by leaving a review. They are honestly really good and lot of them have like maybe five reviews at the most. I'm trying to get better at leaving reviews myself. It is so important to make sure they know it is being enjoyed by others.

If anyone has a fic they don't see on here let me know since I might have forgotten it or not read it yet. Thank you and enjoy!

Shipping

Healed by @sandshadow

Summary: Flame has a lot of issues and has been sent away to the healing center in the Sky Kingdom to deal with them. The last dragons he expected, or wanted, to see there were Umber and Sora. As Flame spends more time in the healing center, and with Umber, he starts to heal in more ways than one. But can he overcome the hate that's been growing in him for so long? T for coarse language.

A personal favorite of mine. And Flumber has quickly become a favorite pairing of mine in this fandom. The only problem I have is there's not a lot of Flumber outside of this fic. But that's okay since there has been an addition to the lore (is that the right word here?) of the fic with an adorable two-shot that takes place a little bit after the events of this fic.

But on other news it's honestly just a good character piece as well. Umber and Flame get great focus and we also get to see Sora again. And there's therapy. Honest to goodness these characters are getting therapy. Praise the Moon's!!!!

10/10 will read again. (Honestly its become one of my therapy fics that I read when I get upset. 😆)

Embracing Peril by Ilral (for the life of me I couldn't find out if there was a Tumblr for them so please let me know so I can add it onto this post.)

Summary: Peril always knew she was different, of course, but it still surprised her just how many ways the world came up with to make her distant. Oh well, at least Clay is here now to buoy her up. And they might just have more in common than she realizes...

A pretty good Cleril fic that deals with a lot of potential prejudices the dragon society might have. A lot of these aren't my headcanons but I can still appreciate the work that went into the fic. And the characters are written pretty well. I like seeing Clay and Peril as an established couple.

A perfect example of it being possible to enjoy a fic even if you don't necessarily share all of the same headcanons as the author.

How to Dance with Rainwings by @quasimagical

Summary: Deathbringer had never anticipated the harsh reality of being pushed away by the love of his life. But when the RainWing queen presents him with a new assignment, he finds himself trapped in the middle of an even more puzzling predicament. AU.

OMG. It's a Jambringer fic. Honestly this one is really cute and I totally ship it. Just a warning Glorybringer isn't the only ship the author breaks up. And while I personally don't ship all the ships they went with I'm the type of person who can still roll with it. Haha.

Another issue is it actually has not been finished but from what I've heard the author does plan on picking it up again sooner or later. But it's definitely worth a read. It's good to see a Deathbringer fic where he is actually treated as a character and not... Well you know exactly what I'm talking about.

Anyway give it a read and review! It's worth it. :)

The Prince and the Body Guard by @a-croissant (based off of their bio on ffnet so hopefully that's right.)

Summary: A oneshot between Turtle and Pike. When Turtle notices that Anemone gets rid of Pike, and Pike runs away, he decides to go after him.

That's right it's a Pike/Turtle one shot. Low key this is really cute. That's kind of all I have to say about it. I ship it and it's adorable.

Character Fics

Winter: A Character Study/Faded Portraits by @sandshadow

Summary: Winter lies awake thinking of everything he's done wrong. The family he disappointed, the love he lost, and the friends he pushed away, but as the night wears on he comes to a new realization about himself.

Wow! Two @sandshadow fics on the list? What?!

Nah but seriously guys this is potentially one of my favorite fics in the fandom. Because I don't know if you know this but I am a Winter fan. And I am still bitter about how he was treated at the end of DoD.

(Also if I have to read any more Winterwatcher fics about him apologizing to Moon for being reasonably upset about a legitimately traumatic experience I am going to scream. )

Anyway. This is what I wish his epilogue in DoD had been. Read it for yourself. Leave a review... I practically an essay myself. My bad. 😅

Winter Returning by Fatespeaker (I can't find a Tumblr for this author so if anyone knows please let me know so I can add it to this post.)

Summary: A week before Icicle's trial, Winter returns to the Ice Kingdom for a very awkward visit. Tensions are high. Old conflicts have resurfaced. With his tribe still reeling from the recent disaster, his family destroyed, and a complicated friendship to deal with, Winter is left picking up the pieces of his old life...and discovering hope for a new one.

Surprise, surprise. It's another Winter fic. I love this boy so much.

Honestly this is done pretty well and we also get to see Winter interact with his family some more as well as getting to see him face some of his own trauma.

It's angsty in all of the best ways.

Aftermath by Fatespeaker (this author has some pretty good stuff honestly.)

Summary: When it comes to living family, Starflight definitely got the short end of the stick. He's kept his distance from his mad scientist father. Well-meaning Fatespeaker wants to help her friend by interviewing Mastermind, but even the briefest of conversations can dredge up uncomfortable truths. War is complicated...its aftermath is messier still.

Kudos to the author for touching on a pretty controversial character. I mean I completely understand why people dislike him. But I can't help it. The fact that his first thought when meeting Starflight was "look at my beautiful boy isn't he astounding!" It was just so refreshing in all the best ways.

I knew the shoe would drop, and what a shoe it was, but I still have a weird fondness for him. And don't fuss me. People can like characters who did horrible things and the thing is I think he's not beyond saving. It will be a lot of work but its possible.

Mastermind- The Scientist and Mastermind- The Monster by The Friendly Space Marine (Again. I don't know if there is a Tumblr for this author. I am so sorry.)

Summary: Mastermind. The NightWing who would become infamous for experimenting on live RainWing subjects. But what is the story behind Starflight's often demonised father? Why did he do it? What drove him to such lengths?

Mastermind. The NightWing embodiment of the mad scientist archetype. A dragon held in contempt by his own son. A monster responsible for unspeakable crimes against the RainWings. What made him do it? Did he ever truly realise the gravity of his actions?

I really like this take on the character! It adds a new layer to him that nobody really wants to acknowledge or see which I think comes back to the fact that people want to always see characters as good or bad. And I've already stated that I hate that mindset. Like... Wow, people with that mindset must live in a very boring and frankly cold world. I'm sorry for your loss.

Story Driven

Stories that are a little more story driven. Although some are very character-based too so this was kind of hard for me separate. Anyway enjoy!

Finding Peace by @warriorofspectra (for some reason it won't link. I don't understand Tumblr!!!)

Summary:Peacemaker has enjoyed a happy seven years. Raised by his mother and living amongst the RainWing and NightWing Tribes, he would ask for no better life. But with the emergence of nightmares, which have grown increasingly vivid upon arriving at the Jade Mountain Academy, Peacemaker begins to question whether or not the life he lives truly is his own or the shadow of another.

Ey... I already talked about this one before but it's definitely up there as one of my favorite fanfictions and probably my favorite Peacemaker fanfiction.

I don't even want to say anything in too much detail because it's just too good. All you need to know is the characters are great, including OCs. Peacemaker is adorable and almost makes me feel bad for hating the strawberry scene... Almost. Seriously just read it. And then take a peak at the authors side drabble series from POV of the other characters. There's one about Winter that I read just because it makes me so happy to see him again. Agh!

In the Light of the Moon's by Qebui (which is actually a group of people. So I have no clue if there are any Tumblrs associated or not)

Summary: We know the Dragonets of Destiny. Five dragons hatched on brightest night. However, what if the dragonets had hatched in the moonlight instead?

That's right we got a thrice born Starflight and Sunny Fanfiction. Not too much to say about this one. I just love this concept and I like what the authors are doing with it. :D

And... I think that's pretty much it. Wow, this was a lot of hard work. But fun. Lots of fun. And it was good coming back to some of these. Again if there was any I missed please let me know and I will glad I do an updated list adding them to it.

Thanks so much and see ya next time!

#wings of fire #fanfiction

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