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drefear · 9 months

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‘Nasty’ By Russ

Summary: Miguel finds something out about you through your recent music choices.

TW: praise, jealousy, smut, praise p in v fantasy, masturbation

You and Miguel started dating fairly recently, and he was so happy about it. He told Jess by accident while discussing you beating up an anomaly, and he just laughed and said ‘I knew it.’

His heart explodes when you’re around and can’t help but see stars.

You’re sitting with Jess and Gwen when he is about to ask you about a report you filed when he hears a conversation he was not prepared for.

“I never even knew he existed.” Gwen said to you, making you laugh.

“Oh, she loves him. It’s almost obsessive.” Jess emphasizes and you blush, rolling your eyes.

“I just- I like- it’s like-“ you stutter and Gwen nods.

“I get it, he’s kinda hot and he’s obviously got some skills, so imagining what he could actually do in bed is totally fair.” That was it, Jess’s words made Miguel’s blood boil. Who else were you trying to sleep with?

His eyes perked up as he walked away and passed you to his office area. You two weren’t in a committed relationship, he had no claim over who you thought about or saw when you weren’t with him, yet it made his blood boil and tension appear between his shoulder blades. He’d long forgotten about the question he was going to ask you about as he summoned you to where he was.

You two were mature adults, you could discuss your feelings without being childish and assuming the worst. Plus, Miguel technically already knew the answer to the question, or so he thought.

You walked up with a bounce before seeing the stress between his eyebrows and frowning gently, something he disliked on that beautiful face of yours. “What’s wrong?” You spoke softly and placed a hand on his arm.

“I need to ask you something and I don’t want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable, but I just need to know the truth.” He prefaced and you felt a knot of anxiety form in your gut. “Are you seeing anyone else?” He searched his eyes over your features and found nothing to give away your thoughts until a bright smile formed on your lips and you couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “This isn’t funny.” He huffed like a petulant child, which made you giggle more.

“Miguel O’Hara, are you jealous?” You teased and poked his bicep, making his nose twitch in self awareness which turned into embarrassment. “No, I’m not seeing anyone else. Who could compare to you?” You smiled wider and slid your hand up his arm to his shoulder, quickly wrapping your arms around his neck. His hand fell to your hip and he sighed happily at your touch, but confusion was still evident in his expression. He hummed and you smirked, “Are you? Because if so, I’ll fight her for ya.” You teased and he let out an exasperated chuckle.

“No, not at all. I’m all yours, now dame un besita.” He demanded and you obliged, giving him a soft and sensual kiss.

Letting go of him, you walked towards the door, “How about we hang out tonight? Stay in and order tacos?” You mused and he nodded, sitting back and sighing. You still felt like something was wrong, but you’d discuss that later when you two were alone and could focus without the hovering threat of work surrounding you.

Once you were gone, Miguel instructed Lyla to dig into you and find any other man you could be seeing. Once your glow faded from his presence, the idea hit him hard like a punch to the chest. You’d just lied to him, to his face, and with a smile.

Never once while dating you had he gotten the impression that you were a liar. Actually, he’d found that sometimes you were too honest, so this was more than shocking to him.

He was so focused on some of the videos Lyla had been finding that he didn’t even hear Jess approach from behind him and start asking questions.

“Earth to O’Hara!” Her hand waved in front of his hand and he snapped his eyes to her, relaxing once he realized who it was. “What’s got you so zoned out?” She peaked over his shoulders to see the videos of you being flirted with in a coffee shop, then sighing in disappointment. “Stalking? Really?”

“She lied to me.” He deadpanned and swiped to another video, frustration setting on his lips.

“About what?” Jess inquired in surprise and he glared at the pregnant woman to his side.

“You already know, don’t play dumb.” He hissed, then gained a cold glare from Jessica, “I heard you talking with her and Gwen about another guy in the cafeteria earlier.”

“Another guy?” Jess gapped and then doubled over, laughing so hard she felt tears forming. “You are so stupid sometimes!” She choked out.

“Que?” He flashed an angry expression, bewildered at her name calling.

“That wasn’t about a guy she met, it was about some singer she was listening to. He released a song in her universe and she’s all hot from the lyrics.” She explained, smiling still. “You were worried about her fucking around with some other dude? No, she was talking about how she was imagining you.” She waved her hand and turned to leave, “It’s called Nasty by Ross, by the way. Give it a listen, if you want to know what she likes.” She let out a few more laughs before shutting the door behind her, leaving Miguel speechless.

His hands flew to his keyboard without a second to spare and he lowered the speakers. What did she mean by hot?

As the chorus rang out quietly, he realized what she meant.

Oh.

His tongue pressed to the roof of his mouth as the words made his imagination come to life.

“Show me where you wanna take it

Grab the headboard, hold on tight

I think we 'bout to break it”

His eyes widened as he felt himself twitch against his suit, the technologically woven fabric straining against his half hard erection.

You liked this…?

He had touched himself to the thought of you before, but he never imagined if you’d been into anything specific. You came off as a girl who liked things simple, and for lack of a better word, vanilla. He thought you’d prefer missionary and soft “oh god” moans, nothing too drastic. Something he’d feared was scaring you away with his fantasies of biting you and drilling into you hard on his kitchen counter, or fucking you over his balcony.

So this was a very welcomed change.

His head ran wild with the ideas of what you’d want him to do. Listening to how this singer directed the song, it seemed like you wanted someone dominant with a gentle touch, you wanted to hear how good you could make him feel, you wanted him to give you a display of his strength while still keeping a calm head and fucking you until you fell apart on him. Soft, but firm.

He couldn’t help but inwardly break a bit to the visualization that formed behind his eyes, your delicate fingers toying with your clit as he watched, face creased as your nose scrunched from the tension you’d started in yourself, grinding into your cute little hands as his slowly guided his hand up and down the shaft of his dick.

He’d bend down just to flick his tongue against you. Just once. Just a tease, a taste, a smell.

God, how he wanted to smell that pussy. To inhale your scent until he was completely overwhelmed and covered by it, then moving to shove his tongue into your aching core and retracting it.

He wanted to watch you clench and grip around nothing, your body practically calling out to him without making a sound.

Miguel wanted to shove his tongue so deep inside you that you’d think it had a mind of its own.

His hand reached out to his desk as he sat down in a chair he almost never even used, letting the blue around his groin dissipate and freeing his cock as it slapped against his abdomen. His fingers pressed a few buttons to close his doors and have his watch on ‘do not disturb mode.’

“She said, "Spank me, that's the only way I learn"

I said, "Okay, good girl, good girl"

His tongue licked his lips as he thought of you from behind, face in his pillows as he caressed his hands up your ass, then planted a smack against your smooth skin. He’d watch the muscle jiggle and redden from the impact of his slap, admiring the soft mewls you’d make for him. Words fell from his mouth like dripping honey.

“That’s it, good girl, buena niña,” He mumbled and let out a relaxed sigh.

“I know everyone wants a pretty girl like you

You look so good when you put me inside you

Listen

There ain't nothin' like that moan when the tip's in

Good God

Look at you, you're doin' such a good job”

The song painted a vivid picture for him about how you wanted him to treat you, to love you. He inhaled sharply as he saw the image of your ass in the air, pussy fully exposed for him as he nestled the head of his cock against your folds and rubbed against you a few times, gathering your sticky mess to soak him before pushing in just the tip. The hiss he let out when he saw this in his head was almost pornographic, groaning as he rutted into the fist he didn’t know that he wrapped around his cock. More aware now, he spit into his palm and continued rubbing himself as he completely indulged. His mind continued its dreams of you, gripping his headboard as he pushed into you and bent down so your back was completely pressed to his chest, his lips kissing the underside of your jaw and whispering in your ear, whispers he didn’t know he was speaking out loud.

“Taking my cock so good, mi amor, such a perfect cunt for me to sink into, like a champ.” He growled and felt his lips twitch, so close to cumming at the idea of you pushing backwards and wanting to take more of him.

“Girl you're mine now, you were made for me

Cum for me baby, you don't gotta wait for me,”

Miguel’s fangs dug into his bottom lip as he tried to muffle his loud animalistic sounds, thinking about you so asking and tightening around his cock, fucking your through your orgasm as he watched a creamy ring form around his dick. The vision made his saliva pool on his tongue and he swallowed it, along with his words.

“Te ves tan hermosa así, solo para mí.” He grunted in Spanish and felt the tension growing in his dick, his orgasm briefly blinding him as ropes of cum shot from his cock, more than usual as he heaved in heavy pants.

You were so fucking beautiful and as he opened his eyes again, his spent still dripping down his own abdomen, his sight caught the current video feed of you.

You, hiding in a corner as you listened with your ear pressed against his office wall and your hand in your suit as you touched yourself.

“No fucking way.” He whispered to himself, catching his breath once more. Miguel looked around and had an idea. Poking his watch a bit, he called you.

“Y-yes?” Your voice was shaky, which he smiled at darkly.

“I need you to bring me some towels. I had a spill in my office.” He spoke, leaning back and watching the cameras ss your body shook and he could hear you gasping through your receiver.

“Be there soon…” you whimpered and he just laughed.

“Just get here quick, so I can replace that hand in your pants with my face, ok pretty girl?” His voice dropped and you let out a moan.

“Y-yes…!” You nodded frantically and swung to get what he needed, making him smile as he leaned back once more in his chair.

Part 2

#miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel smut #atsv miguel #angst

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teopatra · 6 months

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What makes you pretty? Pick a pile/card (PAC)

Teehee happy libra ♎️ season, the prettiest season

Top left: mulatto // bottom left: justa (@justuh-IG)

Top right: crystal westbrooks // bottom right: chan (@trapezoidmouth-IG)

“On October 3rd, he asked me what day it is…”🤭

🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍

Latto🖤🤍 (top left)

🖤keywords: glam, mixed , clean cut, dark feminine, vixen, sports illustrated

🤍I checked on Latto’s chart and her sun is 0° Capricorn and she has a lot of Sagittarius, Capricorn, and Aquarius influence. what makes you pretty off first glance is the size or shape of your bum bum lol it’s very plump and your skin and lips are soft looking. This makes people want to touch you and if you happen to attract people who are coarser with you or [TW] stalker-y then that’s why. The shade of your complexion also makes you pretty also.

🖤 You are probably considered getting work done to some part of your body or you could have already gotten work done; if not, then this is your sign. Whether the work you seek to get done to your body is cosmetic or not, you want to improve your body for your mental or physical health. You like to stay healthy and focus on beauty a lot.

🤍 you have very stern, strong, and structured features like a very nice smile, nice teeth, white teeth, or dimples. You may have a square shaped face or a heart shaped face with a small forehead or widows peak.

🖤 dark hair probably looks best on your but diff hair shades suit you and you can really pull off any color. If you like to wear your hair down it’s very feminine and gives me typical cheerleader trope with flowy or bouncy hair. If you wear your hair up it accentuates your ears, neck, and shoulders

🤍 what makes you even prettier than most not to compare but you’re a chamelon. With the theme of Lotto this is fitting because her stage name USED to be Mulatto but the term is technically derogatory, but the meaning is a mixed race person. Even tho I’ve mentioned multiple or specific races in other piles, n this group the mixing of energies makes you able to pull off multiple aesthetics. You’re definitely ambiguous and most of you are mixed, but not all of you. For those of you who are full breed you probably have a feature that isn’t likened to your race for example if you’re black you may have really fine or straight hair maybe even a very loose curl pattern. I’m even getting some of you are bald maybe you are diagnosed from alopecia (at first I said suffer from alopecia, but I changed it bc although this is a disease that is hard to deal with , I don’t want to use the word suffer bc you are so inspiring and influential to others despite the hardship you endure with this health challenge. Stay strong loves you’re very beautiful.)

🖤 what makes you pretty is your ability to control your emotions and think rationally. Being focused and goal oriented are traits that can make you prettier bc people can see that you take yourself seriously. You are able to make something out of nothing and even n the toughest situations you know what to do. Your resourcefulness makes you pretty bc it shows your wit and survival skills. You’re an innovative person in the way you maneuver thru life and you don’t rely on others to make things happen for you

🤍 what makes you pretty is how sought after you are. A lot of people demand your presence and want to be around you; most finding you to be attractive, but even if they aren’t looking to seek you romantically, a lot of them want to work with you just to have a reason to be around you. In matters of a classroom environment, others may want you to be their partner or study with them. Being around you gives others confidence and makes them feel important bc of how pretty you are. It sounds shallow only to a small minded person bc your beauty is of God’s craft. Your features are sharp yet symmetrical, making you a model of many facets.

🖤 your jaw line makes you pretty which makes me think of mercurial energy like people watch your mouth when you talk or people love your teeth and if you see people looking at your mouth during a conversation that’s why lol don’t feel awkward about it. People hang onto your every word lol you may have an accent and even tho you’re pretty you speak sternly and alot of times you tend to be sarcastic and people may find this intimidating bc they can’t tell if you’re serious or playing. they don’t know when to laugh lmao you make people feel awkward bc you have queen energy that’s like when she says jump I’m supposed to jump but idk how high to jump and I don’t want to look stupid lol. People are not afriad of you bc they feel comfortable in your energy but their afraid of how you may perceive them. People can’t help but compare themselves to you but in a good way, like if you wear a bow in your hair then when someone goes to the mall and sees sowmthing similar to what you wore like that bow they’ll get it just bc it reminds them of you and how pretty it looked when you wore it. You have that “effect”.. idk if I’m supposed to use affect or effect lol

🤍 but that’s another reason why people find you pretty bc even tho you take life seriously you don’t take YOURSELF too seriously. You’re effortlessly pretty like yea you like to dress cute and look put together, but honestly you don’t try too too hard. You’re a very simple girl but you’re about your business. It may make you sad sometimes that you may make jokes but you have dad humor so it goes over a lot of peoples heads lol. You’re especially pretty to people a lot older than you bc of your maturity and wisdom and those a lot younger than you bc you give them cougar energy even tho you’re not that old ( you could be), but to them if they were to have a crush on an “older” (than them) women you would be that gworl.

Xoxo

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Justa 💕 (bottom left)

💕keywords: shapes, coquette, dainty, fairy, girly, (divine) feminine, pink, fresh, spring, winter

💕 pretty Justa is a libra sun and she is Indonesian and black. But what makes you pretty is your charm, wit, and feminine energy. When you’re pretty but not intimidating yet alluring n a way that draws people in bc you’re down to earth it hypnotizes people. You probably are clumsy or may move kind of fast, you’re the type to stubble or drop something when you’re walking out the door but don’t get it twisted you’re ALWAYS prepared. You are a triple threat (song, dance, AND act model as well) and that makes you pretty bc your talents are your hobbies and your favorite things so you shine.

💕 you’re just a girl (no pun intended) and this makes you even prettier bc to men you’re like a damsel in distress and you may or may not realize this but you attract the same gender as well even if those people aren’t normally attracted to their own gender, but it’s something about you like siren energy that gets people lost in your eyes. You have a seductive quality without trying but it’s the way the tone of your voice rises and falls. Your voice probably doesn’t match your face and that makes you pretty too bc it’s a shock factor and makes people hooked to your every word.

💕 you have no problem tapping into your dark feminine energy it’s giving me Xtina and old school 90s video vixens who are just hot for existing. Everyone wants to look like you but they can’t seem to do it quite like you bc of the features you possess esp if you’re mixed with multiple things and if you aren’t I’m hearing it’s your eyes, you probably have cute little eye bags not the scary dark ones lol but the plump ones like a baby that give you an innocent quality. How can you be so innocent, fresh, and young looking, yet sexy and seductive at the same time.

💕 you combat your sexiness by wearing girly girly stuff like coquette theme and you don’t show too much skin for the most part you’re actually modest but you give a little tease like an off the shoulder shirt revealing your collar bone or a deep plunge revealing your cleavage and bust line, or a skirt with a slit or cam micro mini revealing thigh (tbh you prob love short skirts but wear tights or leggings under) . What makes you pretty is that people would take your Instagram pictures to their cosmetologist, esthetician, or surgeon as reference. I’m getting even trans or boys who want to identify as women want to look like you bc you’re the epitome of pretty but not mainstream pretty. You have an exotic look that was probably too sexy for mainstream media, pop culture, and magazines. Some of you either have dark features OR the opposite like striking blonde hair and blue eyes and if not you could potentially look great with the opposite like if you have dark hair you’d look just as pretty with highlights or colored contacts.

💕 it’s almost scary the type of pretty you are bc people can’t help but stare at you to the point it’s rude but the way you look people have never witnessed before. Have you ever seen a gorgeous person n public randomly and it gave you a boost of energy or confidence like wow I’m n the same room as that person we must have sowmthing n common. What also makes you pretty are your mannerisms, if you’re a clutz while you’re rushing out the door, once you get yourself together I’m seeing you being very calm and controlled almost too controlled which is another reason they stare bc they can’t tell if you’re real even tho it’s quite obvious you aren’t a mannequin lol but you aren’t seen on your phone too much n public, when you’re alone you take lots of selfies and that makes you pretty bc of the self archives you have. You may do your own photo shoots n private for your socials and it’s like you have an arsenal. You probably wear a lot of black and or white with accents of pink or blue. You dramatize doll makeup with lash extensions or loads or mascara, lip plumper, and blush to make you seem flushed or embarrassed.

💕the mannerisms you posses that make you pretty are your ability to stand up straight and very still for long periods of time bc most likely you’re very focused on your surroundings taking n the ambience while others are taking you in as well. This gives me high priestess vibes bc you’re able to bask n the moment and be very present and understand the spiritual significance of the moment in time you’re in. People can see this wisdom and innate understanding when they look at you bc they see your gears moving.

💕 you look like a little doll but people don’t feel the urge to possess you or dominate you, men ofc would love to have you like a little girl would love to have a pretty doll on her shelf, but you have strong Yang energy or feminine energy that makes a man want to be balanced with you. You make men straighten up or fix their hair or clothes, you can make the manliest man blush or have sweaty palms and even stumble over his words bc there’s a depth to your eyes yet looking into them is almost like looking into the eyes of a porcelain doll. You’re often very hard to read and this makes you pretty bc nowadays a lot of girls can give off pick me energy and have no mystery to them. You aren’t overly mysterious but there’s more to you that meets the eye and it’s apparent that you’re talented in the arts whether it be that you’re a great vocalist, maybe even a poet or public speaker.

💕 it makes you pretty that you’re very involved whether that be n the community or taking your hobbies serious as in professionally. If you’ve considered going to art or fashion school or moving to a major city that’s known for music or fashion then do that bc it’s a part of your destiny. I’m seeing that wearing half up half down is very pretty on you. Your hair may be very straight and hard to curl I seen you have tried to curl it but it takes lots of products and afterwards your hair just feels heavy and greasy and all you wanna do is wash it and start over with a fresh flowy blowout. If you’re considering dying your natural hair maybe try weave alternatives first like a wig or tape ins. Esp if you’re into theatre and acting skits, don’t change your look too drastically bc with todays resources you can get a nice makeover without it being permanent.

💕 I’m skipping around about here n this group but back to community involvement, this makes you pretty bc it shows you’re not selfish like most pretty people are assumed to be. You don’t just have a maternal nature but you also have a leadership quality that allows people to trust you, you’re almost like an angel to people bc not only are you pretty but you’re sweet as molasses. You have a strong personality and this makes you pretty bc it shows that you know what you want and where you’re headed, you’re a one (wo)man band who doesn’t mind involving others along for the ride. You may have not been Regina George popular but you’re popular n the way that everyone knows you and they don’t mind indulging n a quick chat with you every few passings. You’re really pretty in jeans and boots. Esp winter and fall apparel like a winter American girl dollie lol

Xoxo

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Crystal 💙 (top right)

💙 keywords: passionate, resourceful, loved, loving, gentle, flower child, bohemian

💙 she is mixed with black, Native American, Mexican, creole, and some Asian descent. She is a Pisces sun but I mistook her for a cancer. When I looked at her chart she had a LOT of fire energy which I was slightly surprised by because on her social media she doesn’t usually talk or SAY much she’s more of a re-poster.

💙 it’s pretty when you try to tan or go outside in the sun bc for some reason your face may not tan much or stay tan for long but the rest of your body including your neck stays darker than your face

💙 if your hair is big that is bold and makes you stand out even if you’re introverted or shy and you may always wonder why people talk to you when you may not feel mentally prepared to engage in conversation but your hair draws people in if you were ever wondering. The thickness or length of your hair makes people want to get a closer look bc of the contrast from your hair color and pale face. Browns and blondes can look the best on you whereas darker colors like black hair and dark browns can make you looked washed out.

💙 you may not wear a lot of makeup which makes you extremely pretty bc you probably indulge in a lot of skincare or maybe you wear makeup that looks so natural as if you’re not wearing any like a boy beat makeup look that isn’t full coverage but accentuates your natural beauty features, try to only wear mascara, lip gloss and stain, and blush. There’s almost no color match for your skin youd have to mix at least 2 or more shades to get your right skin match bc you have different undertones esp once you go out in the sun. This could be due to you being multiple ethnicities.

💙 your mouth is pretty expect people probably never see your teeth bc don’t smile with them and you could be shy about showing your teeth or being overly expressive. Having too many emotions in public can make you feel embarrassed which is cute to others bc it makes you come off as mysterious. You remind me of tangled how her hair is always in your face, your hair is like a curtain shielding and protecting you from the outside world but ofc that only makes people more curious

💙 I feel like tones of chestnut brown like Ariana grande brown hair tone or auburn and reds suit you, also maybe thinner or natural brows. Try mascara instead of lashes and if you don’t wear either mascara could elevate your natural beauty and maybe even brown eyeliner instead of black. Your hair could be prettier up and off of your shoulders and out of your face either like a messy bun/updo or a pineapple style.

💙 you look pretty when you show your legs or arms and people pay attention to your hands as well they’re very dainty and maternal as if you give good massages or people daydream of you playing n their hair 😆.. try a French manicure or a clear polish and if you don’t do polish do not bite your nails start carrying around a nail file instead and give your nails a square or almond shape. You look pretty n neutrals like browns and beiges. Gold jewelry also accentuates your beauty but necklaces instead of earrings. The type of pretty you are is you’re extremely naturally beautiful but accessories take away from that and it clashes. For the most part if you already don’t do too much n that aspect then this is confirmation.

💙 side note this isn’t about physical feature but it’s makes you more attractive that you aren’t seen around large groups unless it’s for family. I see you probably are a loner who likes to eat at restaurants alone and read or scroll on your phone and you enjoy your own company. This makes you pretty bc it gives off self assurance and that you aren’t caught up in the joneses of clout chasing and trying to be seen amongst the cool crowds, instead you walk alone and people-watch. Although you’re reserved, around the right folks you’re deff goofy and that makes you pretty bc since you’re so quiet for the most part you’re seen having fun giggling at those around you which makes you down to earth and trustworthy. Girl you’re fine asf and you prob like vintage or thrift shopping. I see a very old Hollywood when you dress up but mix and match in your daily dress like a soccer jersey that’s from the little boys section or that you tied n the back with a rubber band and some sports shorts and maybe doc margins, vans, or ballet flats. You’re so girly and cutesy, but dress like a tomboy sometimes even tho you aren’t and people know this bc you’ll carry around a dainty purse and probably rock shades when you’re out bc you have something with your eyes like astigmatism lol it reminds me of how Ariana Grande is always squinting bc she can’t see LOL that makes you pretty tho xoxo

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Chantel💟@trapezoidmouth (bottom right)

💟 keywords: soft, dainty, warm tones, pastels, versatile, round and petite features but feminine and curvy physique, sparkly, sensual

💟 Chan is a Sagittarius sun, I’m not sure her chart details but she has a very curvy yet petite frame and a small shaped face which is typically attributed with the planet mercury.

💟 you could have a way with words and thing things that you say and or the way you say them makes people laugh. You’re witty, yet down to earth so you know how to crack a GOOD joke, even if you’re not trying to. Due to your dry humor, sacrastic tone, social ques, and emotional intelligence you have a personality and intellect that people don’t come across everyday. You’re like a fictional sitcom character with a really good script. From a pretty lady like yourself …

💟 you’re a doll to where people want to dress you. You may not know this but in the traditional old fashioned way that women would be spotted by industry talent agencies bc they wanted to see that particular person in their clothing brand or representing their label is because of look that person had. You are very editorial and a fantasy/traditional Victoria’s Secret vibes to those wanting to dress you but not in a trendy way rather a trendsetting way. For example when new Bratz would have edgy and over the top outfits that you didn’t see everyday and you’re prob the person that experiments with clothing and have always done so by putting together pieces in a cool way which breaks the mold and makes others more comfortable with being quirky in their dressing instead of waiting for mainstream media to give the “ok” with particles looks first. Just as much as people love to see you wear the most high fashion they imagine what you’d look like nude as well.

💟 I see you having a defined back or an arched back or even back dimples. If you have wide hips or love handles this makes you pretty bc it gives the child bearing appearance that makes you seem more maternal. Being more maternal means you’re caring and people can see this in your eyes as well. Your eyes could be intimidating and I feel like you don’t mske a lot of eye contact with people in person. People are not offended by this bc you give off the energy that you’re always busy doing something or too busy for the convo. Most people would find this rude, but with you people are happy to just be in your presence or even be seen within feet or you bc you’re so gorgeous.

💟 if you have an uneven skin tone or discoloration (vitiligo, tan, sun spots, freckles, hyperpigmentation) it’s very pretty and some people may try to hyper focus in on how many hues you have or compare and contrast the different shades of your skin tone. The people who get close enough to you to analyze you (as they always do you may just not notice it) try to inspect small things about you that they could remember later to help them visualize you after you leave bc people crush on you hard . People could notice when you get goosebumps and that turns them on bc that very human nature makes you feel more personified even tho to people you are a fantasy or a fictional character in the flesh

💟 Jessica rabbit, Lola bunny, and Betty boop are all vibes you remind people of due to the pure innocent nature of the feminine needing masculine energy to counterbalance.. men view them as fragile and weak to where they could overtake them or almost pick them up and take them away and even tho you may be dainty or petite, people wouldn’t dare harm you bc they assume that there are lots of strong masculine figures in your life bc your demeanor exudes that. And even if that isn’t the case, there is a masculine ancestor or spirit guide who is fighting for you on the spiritual plane to protect you. Even tho you a divine feminine, your masculine and feminine qualities are balanced.

💟 aside from your face and body frame, your limbs particularly make you pretty, it’s the way they move when you talk or walk, like water. (Tyla) you’re prettiest in clothing that accentuate your body no matter your frame as long as the skin is covered for example a body con, or long sleeve, or a skims type dress, or all black leggings and title neck with long riding boots and cute accessories. Obvi you’re hot no pun intended (from being clothed head to toe LOL jk) in anything you wear but you’re most attractive n that style bc it accentuates your limbs. Particularly your hands are slender and men could imagine what your hand would look like with a wedding ring. If men grab your feet when you’re chatting with your crush on the couch it’s bc you have cute toes. Your teeth are pretty and white, but continue to take care of your gum health and whiten your teeth more to charm men.

💟 long wavy hair is pretty on you if you haven’t tried it I would suggest that in maybe extensions or a wig BUT if you want to do something different try curly and super short and if you’re thinking abo it chopping your hair off then this is a sign, the pixie length with your dainty facial features would eat downnnn. As far as makeup peach tones, browns, and golds will bring out your complexions and undertones in your skin. Also I see wavy hairstyles are pretty on you as well

Xoxo

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Ps this is a LATE libra ♎️ season post 🤭 oopsie happy Scorpio ♏️ season xoxo 💋

———————————————————Tip Jar 🍪

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defectivevillain · 3 months

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scar-crossed lovers

pairing: Severus Snape/Reader (can be platonic or romantic)

summary: “This really isn’t necessary,” you feel the need to say, once you realize that Severus is going to apply the burn paste for you. “I’m perfectly capable-” You break off at the cynical expression on his face, which suggests exactly how incapable he thinks you are.

word count: 2.7k | ao3 version

this work is technically in a series, so feel free to read the other parts and then come back :3

warnings: first-degree burns

Potions was one of your least favorite subjects as a Hogwarts student. You weren’t necessarily bad at brewing, but you weren’t quite skilled at it either. The pressure to follow precise instructions coupled with the subsequent risk of injury that came with errors made it a hard class for you to enjoy. You didn’t have enough confidence in your abilities to proceed through Potions with conviction, and that showed through in your classwork. You often brewed the Potions correctly, but it took you twice as long as it took your classmates.

Thankfully, your Potions days are long behind you. You’re the Ancient Runes professor at Hogwarts and acting Head of Hufflepuff House—and neither of those roles require an extensive knowledge of Potions. You’re more than content to leave the art of Potions to Severus Snape, the current Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House. You’re secretly relieved that you left Potions back in your school years. You’d much rather continue practicing and researching the subject you’re skilled at—Ancient Runes—than meddle with Potions.

The universe seems dead-set on spiting you, however, because you soon find yourself in a rather uncomfortable position. Minerva is regarding you with an expectant gaze, evidently waiting for you to respond to her statement. You have to put a conscious effort towards remembering what she’s requested of you.

Severus will be away for the next few school days, in order to attend an international Potions conference. Since the Potions Master will be absent, the castle will need a substitute to stand in his place. You’re not exactly surprised that Minerva is asking you to fill in for Severus—you teach an elective course for upper-years, which means that you have less classes to teach than your colleagues. You have enough time in your schedule to fill in for Severus. The thought of returning to the dungeons for Potions isn’t quite savory, but you know you’ll manage. Besides, you’ll be the professor, not the student. You won’t actually have to brew anything; instead, you’ll be supervising the students’ creations.

“I can do it,” you tell Minerva. The Transfiguration professor thanks you and the tension seems to leave her shoulders. For the rest of your meeting, the two of you review the lesson plans Severus left and discuss any potential obstacles. You leave feeling both nervous and excited.

To your surprise, however, your Potions classes proceed rather well. The first day flies by without incident and you find yourself feeling strangely validated. You had anticipated there to be a struggle with maintaining your authority, especially with the younger classes of students whom you haven’t gotten to know yet. However, everything went rather smoothly. There were a few hiccups here and there, but you managed to handle them well. Perhaps this won’t be so bad after all.

Of course, the moment you begin to relax, something goes wrong. In hindsight, perhaps you should’ve expected mishaps from the second year Slytherins and Gryffindors—the two Houses usually don’t get along well, and the students are fairly young. But, you don’t have a choice in the matter—you have to supervise them, since Severus is absent. Safe to say, within a few moments of starting class, you’re developing a headache.

The class is currently learning how to brew Strengthening Solution. You copy the recipe from the textbook onto the board with large handwriting and provide a few general tips, before allowing the students to pair up and begin brewing. By the end of the period, each pair should present a Strengthening Solution for grading.

Strengthening Solution is far from a difficult brew, but you still spot a few pairs having trouble. You eventually decide to pace around the classroom in circles, keeping your eyes peeled for raised hands or confused looks. Malfoy is doing well—unsurprising, considering that he’s apparently one of the top of the class. The same goes for Granger. Zabini and Nott seem to know what they’re doing. Weasley seems torn between attempting to slice his ingredients and cheating off of Granger. There aren’t any noticeable fights brewing amongst the students, which is a plus. Malfoy and Potter have a rather bitter rivalry, from what you’ve heard.

Someone is trying to get your attention, though. You break away from your thoughts and walk over to the student, who is raising their hand diligently. “What’s the next ingredient?” A boy you recognize to be Neville Longbottom asks. You peek down into his cauldron, frowning when you notice it’s the wrong color.

“What have you done so far?” You ask him. Longbottom recounts the steps he’s taken and you manage to find where he left off. “Salamander blood is next, Mr. Longbottom,” you answer him. Longbottom exchanges a worried look with Finnigan, his lab partner. Dread coils in your chest. The two of them look scared.

“Salamander?” Longbottom asks, his eyes wide.

“Yes,” you respond. The shocked look on Longbottom’s face does not inspire confidence. You grimace and take another sidelong glance at the cauldron, surprised to find that the color has since changed. Just what did Longbottom put in the concoction?

You don’t have time to find out, as the cauldron bubbles ominously. Within the blink of an eye, the cauldron is spitting boiling hot liquid everywhere. You quickly shove Longbottom to the side and turn to conjure a shield. Your arm is prickling and aching, but you ignore the sensation and focus on containing the potion’s unexpected eruption. Thankfully, you manage to prevent any harm to the other students—which is most important. A nullifying spell calms the bubbling potion back down, and you quickly send Longbottom to the infirmary before instructing the class to finish brewing and turn in what they have. Despite the mishaps with Longbottom’s brewing, the majority of the class seems to have finished the Strengthening Solution unimpeded. Once the students are dismissed, you turn your attention to the now-melted cauldron and try your best to repair it. After a few minutes of concentration, you manage to somewhat restore it. At the very least, it’s functional. Longbottom will just have to deal with it.

You finish cleaning the table up, before wiping the sweat from your brow and taking a deep breath. That was a close call—your heart is still racing. There’s no telling what would have happened if you hadn’t contained the potion in time. Thank Merlin for small mercies, you suppose.

It takes several moments for your adrenaline to fade away, and the feeling is then replaced with a strange prickling along your forearm. You frown and pull up your shirt sleeve, hissing as it rubs against your chafed and burnt skin. It seems not everyone escaped unscathed. Truthfully, though, you’re glad you’re the one injured—and not any of the students (aside from Longbottom, who is likely being chewed out by Madam Pomfrey right now).

You know a few minor healing spells, but they hardly do anything to get rid of the harsh burn that seems to tear its way up your arm. You don’t really want to go to the infirmary—you know Poppy would have no qualms about telling you exactly how reckless and foolish you were. You suppose you could raid Severus’s Potions stash… but you don’t have a death wish. Severus is very possessive of his Potions, and you know he’d flip once he returned and noticed that something was missing. You inhale slowly and take a moment to process everything that just happened.

Your brief reprieve doesn’t last very long, as a student enters the classroom and breaks you out of your thoughts. You cast a minor pain relief spell and quickly roll your shirt sleeve back down. Before long, you’re too busy greeting the next class of students to pay much attention to your injury.

Thankfully, your remaining lessons are uneventful. It isn’t until your final class is over and you start to walk to the dining hall that you remember the burn itching at your skin. The pain nullification spell has worn off and you cast another, idly hoping that it’ll somehow get rid of the burn entirely. You don’t really have the luxury to devote time to your wound—you need to finalize your lesson plans for the coming week and grade some essays that the fifth-years turned in. You spend dinner lost in thought, planning out how you’re going to spend the rest of your day.

It’s really a shame that your plan falls into obscurity the moment you leave the Great Hall. You can’t be more than a few steps down the hall before you feel a presence at your side. You chance a sidelong glance at your newfound companion, relaxing when you realize it’s Severus.

“Hey, Severus,” you greet him, unable to stop the small smile that works its way onto your face. You’re happy to see him. Severus nods and begins to walk at your side. You’re heading back to your office, and you suppose he is going to be returning to his office too. “Glad you’re back. How was the conference?”

The Potions professor huffs. “There was a veritable mix of bright minds and complete fools,” he remarks with a dark glare pointed ahead. You have to stifle your amusement at the gesture. Severus doesn’t seem keen to elaborate further on the sentiment.

“That sounds about right,” you hum, recalling what you’ve heard about the conference in passing. “Your classes did pretty well. Only one cauldron blew up.” Severus lets out a long-suffering sigh, evidently thinking about all the cauldrons that will blow up across the duration of the school year. You can’t help but smile at his exasperation. Admittedly, you share some of it too—especially since the incident yesterday.

“Thank you for watching over my classes,” Severus says, apropos of nothing. There’s no hint of anything other than sincerity in his voice. You raise an eyebrow at the realization. His lips quirk up ever so slightly and, Merlin, is that a smile? He surprises you even more by placing a hand on your forearm. Ordinarily, you’d appreciate the friendly gesture, but his grip falls right on your untreated burn and you have to wince. Immediately, his eyes are squinted in suspicion. You try to tug your arm back, but his grip is tight on your wrist—thankfully, away from the burn. The professor’s infamous scowl returns. “What did you do?”

You resolutely keep your mouth shut. Unfortunately, Severus isn’t the least bit discouraged. Instead, he grabs your sleeve and delicately rolls it up. The marred skin on your forearm is revealed and Severus shakes his head in irritated disbelief.

“To be fair, I didn’t do anything,” you feel the need to establish. Severus pinches the bridge of his nose. You decide to continue speaking, even though his expression is quickly turning from annoyed to fuming. “Remember the cauldron I mentioned? Yes, well… Mr. Longbottom had a bit of an accident.”

Severus’s grip on your wrist becomes bruising and you hiss. He removes his hand, but the indignant expression on his face doesn’t fade. His fists are clenched at his sides and his scowl is the angriest you’ve seen. It looks as if he’s moments away from stalking over to the Gryffindor Common Room and taking points from the Longbottom boy.

“Severus,” you chide him. You’ve been meaning to talk to him about his treatment of Neville Longbottom. The Gryffindor is absolutely terrified of the Potions professor. Now that you’re on the topic, you might as well mention it. “Actually-” The rest of the words disintegrate on your tongue, as you catch the murderous expression on the professor’s face. He glares at you and you fall silent. Now might not be the best time, you realize.

Severus starts to walk away. He doesn’t offer a single word of explanation, but you follow after him because it seems like the right thing to do. A few moments later, you find yourself standing in front of his Potions stores. Severus lets out a long suffering sigh and climbs the ladder to the top shelf with practiced ease, grabbing Burn-Healing Paste and another vial before shouldering past you in the doorway. You take a step back and watch him lock the space, before following him into his office. It takes you a few moments to realize why he hasn’t dismissed you yet.

“This really isn’t necessary,” you feel the need to say, once you realize that Severus is going to apply the paste for you. “I’m perfectly capable-” You break off at the cynical expression on his face, which suggests exactly how incapable he thinks you are. Severus silently takes a few steps forward, leaving you to hesitantly backpedal until you’re forced to lean back against his desk. He makes quick work of rolling up your sleeve; you’re not given even a word of warning before the paste is being deposited onto your arm. You manage to keep quiet, despite the sudden shock. The paste is weirdly cold, and it almost immediately soaks into your skin. You stare down at it in fascination.

“Thank you, Severus-” You move to get up, only for your colleague to push you back with a firm hand. You let your free hand fall to the desk behind you, feeling a sudden urge to brace yourself. Severus doesn’t seem to pay you any mind, as his gaze is honed in on your forearm. He procures the vial from earlier and picks up the pipette to place the amber liquid on your skin. At your questioning gaze, Severus explains.

“Anti-scarring solution.”

“Severus, I don’t care if it scars,” You try to say.

“Merlin forbid you mar your flawless skin,” Severus interjects, complete with a scoff and an intense eye-roll. The wording sounds a little familiar, but it takes you a moment to place it. Once you realize that he’s repeating something Lockhart said to you a few days ago— “You have such flawless skin!” —you can’t help but choke on a quiet laugh.

“He’s rather friendly, isn’t he?” You muse aloud. Severus visibly stiffens at that, for some reason. Tension suddenly settles in the air, heavy and palpable amidst the quiet of his office. You can’t help but feel as if you’ve just done something wrong—you’re just not sure what it is.

“More than friendly,” Severus states mildly. You want to ask him about the unreadable expression on his face (and the inexplicable glimmer in his eyes), but he places a healthy amount of salve on your arm and you flinch at the stinging sensation it creates. Lockhart had touched your forearm there, too. Whilst his touch incited disgust and discomfort within you, Severus’s touch makes your heart race.

“Okay, thank you-” You try to escape again, feeling a bit flustered by the intense gaze he has pointed at you. The Potions professor doesn’t respond verbally, instead leveling you with such a malicious glare that any more objections fall to dust in your mouth. Severus returns his attention to your forearm, a roll of bandages in one hand as the other hand gently extends your arm. A shiver rolls down your spine. Time drags on like a viscous sludge, and you’re a prisoner to its whims. All you can hear is Severus’s calm, measured breaths; all you see is the careful manner with which he handles you, as if you’re made of glass.

“Thank you, Severus.” You breathe once the bandages are secured around your forearm. You swear you feel his hands linger for the briefest of moments, but you put it down to your imagination. At a loss for words, you end up bidding him a good night and retreating to your own office. Even as you try to immerse yourself in grading your class’s essays, the weight of Severus’s touch and the pressure of his gaze refuses to leave your mind’s eye. You fall asleep that night with your arm prickling, both from the salve and from Severus’s attentive, careful grasp earlier.

The next day, you’re set free from your supervisory duties. While the few days you spent as Potions professor were enjoyable, you’re very relieved they’re over. You’d much rather devote attention to Ancient Runes—a subject you feel you’re more qualified to teach. It’s also nice to have your free periods back. You take the chance to study up on some recent scholarship and walk about the castle, taking in the fresh air that the spring brings.

Unbeknownst to you, during Potions class with the second-years, Gryffindor House loses a hundred points. When you hear the news at dinner, you can’t help but laugh. You then glance at Severus, unsurprised to find a vindictive smirk tugging at his lips.

thanks for reading! <3

check out my other works, sorted by fandom.

general taglist: @its-ares @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @kingkoku @the-ultimate-librarian

#defectivevillain #x reader #reader insert #gn reader #male reader #nb reader #snape x reader #snape x male reader #snape x gn reader #severus snape x reader #severus snape x male reader #etc etc

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friendlyengie · 9 months

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oh hey, speaking of ocs actually, some proper updated refs for these guys! Id like to get a collection of drawings detailing specific details and introducing their classes more properly, but for now, I’ve got these! Character ramblings under the cut for anyone interested!

The Decoy is a support class built around getting someone’s attention and being a nuisance for as long as possible. It’s not a very damage-heavy or strong class, but focuses more on being tough to catch than anything else. The Decoys are both circus themed runaways who insist on being in costume despite the fact that the class is not inherently circus-themed. Armani is loud, friendly, but kind of an acquired taste as far as whether or not he’s actually enjoyable to be around goes. He’s learned to utilize a few decades worth of aggression issues by simply avoiding losing his shit until he’s on the field and allowed to beat the shit out of people. He’s marginally successful at holding out until this opportunity. Marcel is a mime of few words, opting to obnoxiously emote to communicate before he’ll speak directly to you. He’s quick on his feet and good at appearing like he’s got his head on his shoulders, but you can only be so normal when you’re a man whose decided to operate as a mercenary in a full face of performance makeup.

The P.I. (Investigator isn’t the technical title, but it filled the space better) is a pretty standard offense class. She’s got some robot eyes with some cool recording and projecting abilities, but I’ll be honest, I don’t have a lot filled out to make the P.I. An interesting class yet, ive been focusing more on Hattie as a character. U_U She’s a pretty empty-headed but charismatic lady. She operates with a lot of confidence, regardless of her skill. She’s a damn good investigator, great with puzzles and working through clues, but when she doesn’t have a metaphorical magnifying glass in her hands and a case to crack she’s as dumb as a bag of rocks and refuses to listen to anyone trying to point it out. She talks like an old noir detective despite it being the 60s, and speaks in extravagant metaphors that don’t really make sense if you think about them longer than three seconds.

#Tf2 #tf2 ocs #tf2 tenth class #armani (the decoy)#marcel (blu decoy)#hattie (the pi)#my art!!

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adnauseum11 · 2 months

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Point of Contact (John Price x Reader)

John reaches out to Kate for a favour.

850 words

CW: swearing

feedback welcome!

It is the absolute crack of dawn when Kate gets the call she’s been expecting for the last few hours. She’s up, mainlining coffee and checking her emails relentlessly when her cell vibrates across the desk.

“John?”

“Kate.”

Kate’s initial impression is that John sounds tired. Immediately she wonders if she’ll get the full story from him or have to rely on Gaz’ version.

“Gaz said you were going to have a name for me to run? What’s happened?” Her concern is unmistakable down the line.

Of course, Kyle told her what happened, but she wants to hear it from John himself. Their past squabble is sidelined immediately without discussion. John sighs and Kate can picture her friend pacing and pushing his hand through his hair in frustration.

“Her place got broken in to yesterday. Guy didn’t touch obvious jewellery, or cash, seemed to be looking for information. Not sure what type of information or to what end just yet. Dislocated his shoulder before the police picked him up so he’ll be with medical for a little bit. Could be something, could be nothing. I’m hoping we can use their detour through medical to do a little information gathering of our own.”

“You’re sure this isn’t just a B&E gone bad, John?” Kate tries to keep the skepticism out of her voice.

“Worst B&E I’ve ever seen if that’s the case. Man was empty handed after a sizable head start. Odd time of day too, right when people are getting home from work.”

“You think he meant to do more than rob her?”

“Don’t know. Scared the hell out of her at the least. But he wasn’t doing any talking and I’m no good to her arrested so I didn’t force the issue. He’s booked on B&E but he didn’t technically steal anything. He’ll get a slap on the wrist at best. Never hated being a fucking civilian more in my life.”

Kate can hear the frustration in his voice. For a man like John, used to making things happen and getting answers by any means necessary, being beholden to the laws and skills of the local police force was particularly infuriating.

“What’s the name?”

John gives her the name from the police report, spelling it out for her.

“I’ll owe you if we can get this put to rest sooner than later. I’m hoping it’s nothing and just some tweaker, her place isn’t in the best part of town but something’s just not sitting right for me. Maybe I’m seeing ghosts where there’s nothing, but I want to be sure.”

“You really should move her out of there John, either way.” Kate can’t help but prod him about it, finding it out of character for John to be lax about security.

“You think I’m unaware? I thought I was going to have to drag her out of there last night. I’m going to have to pick my moment with that topic.” John’s cranky, making Kate smile to herself.

“At least it sounds like you know what you’re up against.”

John’s huff of amusement is weak, even over the staticky line.

“This favour, would it have limitations?”

Kate switches topics easily, only half teasing. She isn’t above making her own life easier down the road, even if it temporarily complicates John’s. That give and take has been a natural part of their friendship for years.

“Cross that bridge when we get to it.” John defers, and Laswell decides to take pity on the man and let him get away with it for the moment.

“Gaz said she seemed nice. When do I get an introduction?” Kate tacitly accepts the terms of his offer, moving on to personal interest.

“After I get some answers. We’ll have dinner, my treat.” John sweetens the deal further, a peace offering for their last interaction.

“Alright, I’m going to hold you to that. It’s not every day I get the chance to meet someone who can order a Captain around in his own home.”

Kate can’t help taking a swipe at the man, Gaz’ report including just as much detail on the state of John and his woman as anything else to Kate’s delight.

“Unbelievable, fucking Gaz, listen she was not having a good time of it yesterday–“

John’s trying to explain but Kate cuts him off before he can get very far.

“Knowing you, I’m sure not. I’m also sure that after you were asked to keep it down so she could sleep, you did, you big softie. Certainly, you two left an impression on Kyle.”

Kate’s smile bleeds through the line and the corner of John’s mouth quirks up finally at her gentle teasing despite his concern over how yesterday shook out.

“Bloody hell. Don’t make me regret agreeing to dinner, Kate.” He sighs, pushing his fingers through his hair.

“I’ll update you after I do some digging John, keep your phone handy.”

"Thanks, Laswell."

John's gratitude is palpable. The knot of tension in his chest relaxes infinitesimally, and he disconnects the call and leaves the kitchen to rejoin you, still sleeping soundly in his bed.

Next Chapter

Tag list:

@deadbranch @beebeechaos @cadotoast @syoddeye @writeforfandoms

#call of duty #fanfic #captain john price #john price x reader #john price cod #friends to lovers #john price #captain price #john price x f!reader #john price x you #john price x female reader #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic

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sunshine-theseus · 4 months

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Hermanita’s Broken Nose| Laia Aleixandri x Reader

Words: 1.6k Summary: You’re technically ‘off limits’ to any of your sister’s friends, but that doesn’t stop Laia. It also doesn’t stop the ball coming for your nose Warnings: Angst, no proofreading what so ever because i'm with family sorryy Requested by - @deynacastellonaswife

“María will kill us if she finds out Lai.” I try to catch my breath, hands resting against Laia’s chest.

“Mapi lives an ocean away.” A ghost of a kiss is pressed to my lips in reassurance.

“No, she lives 1825 kilometres away. Not even that will stop her wrath if she finds out one of her friends is dating her hermanita.” The dim light of the Manchester City utilities closet was beginning to make my eyes strain as I looked at my secret girlfriend.

“You know the exact distance between Manchester and Barcelona?” a teasing grin spreads across her face as she pushes open the door, looking around to make sure no one will see us.

“Sí. You don’t? Usually, I use it when I’m in need of comfort, my sister isn’t really that far if I need her. But your teasing is taking that away.” A joking jab in her side sends Laia running and screaming back to the pitch.

No one is there to meet us, the other girls still having lunch and relaxing, so we take some time to play around with the ball. Laia begs to practice penalties, so I line up with my goalie gloves tightly on my hands, waiting for her to kick the ball. I dive back and forth as she goes to score, managing to catch or stop the ball often enough for her to want to keep going.

I begin to get tired. My hand rarely meets the ball and I stop putting effort into my dives but she doesn’t notice.

“Lai… I gotta stop bebé. It’s too much.” I’m already sitting on the ground as Laia takes a final kick, not being able to stop in time after my plea for a break.

It’s a beautiful ball. It spins and floats down perfectly, but it doesn’t hit the net. Instead, it comes barrelling down toward me, and slams aggressively into my nose. The pain radiates across my face, and I feel the warm blood start to trickle out of my nose as I groan in pain. I lean forward, trying to find a safe place above my nostrils for me to pinch, and Laia comes rushing toward me.

“Mierda! Lo siento coriño. Necesitas ayuda y poco hielo.” (Fuck! I’m so sorry sweetheart. You need help and some ice) I reach out for her but she’s already sprinting toward the medical room before I can say anything.

~~~~~

“Hermanita! How on earth did you break your nose?” María and Ingrid sit in the Barcelona sun as we facetime, the older of the two questioning me with an accusatory tone.

“Laia. We were practicing penalties, and I sat down for a break, but it was too late… she kicked a beautiful penalty, but I was not in a good spot. Came right for my face.” To finish my statement, I point to the cast over my nose.

My sister tries, yet fails, to conceal her laughter while Ingrid pouts, eyes full of concern.

“Din stakkars kjære! Are you healing okay?” (you poor dear!) my sister’s girlfriend was a ball of sunshine and kindness, you couldn’t not love her, so in return I’d begun to learn some Norwegian so we could both speak each other’s languages. María tried to join me, but decided that 2 languages was enough for her, leaving her confused whenever Ingrid and I decided to test my new skill.

“I am, Laia felt really bad so she’s taking care of me.” It’s a simple lie to explain the random items that are very clearly not mine that are littered around the apartment behind me.

Laia had moved into my apartment mere months ago, not long after we started dating. Her clothes were already filling up my cupboard and small trinkets dawned my kitchen counter tops and tables.

“Good. Where is she? No one hurts my baby sister and gets away with it.” Despite her previous laughing, María’s lips pull tight and she becomes serious, looking around my screen as if she would be able to spot the Spaniard.

“Out getting groceries. She’ll be back soon, you can rip into her then. Shouldn’t you be worrying about your own injury by the way?” María had torn the meniscus in her right knee during training and was out for the rest of the season. A significantly worse injury than a simple broken nose.

“I have Ingrid for that!” She smiles goofily at the Norwegian beside her as Bagheera jumps onto her lap, sniffing his way toward the camera my sister is holding up.

The black cat begins to meow and paw at the screen, and I smile, but quickly let out a squeal of pain and nearly grab my nose. Perhaps a little dramatic, I grant myself a pass.

“Fuck you and your cute ass cat María! God that hurt.”

“Don’t talk about him like that!”

We talk for quite some time, that I forget about the impending arrival of the girl who most certainly wasn’t supposed to be my girlfriend.

“We should probably go soon-” right as Ingrid makes the comment, Laia walks through the door.

“Hola bebé! How are you feeling?” after placing the bags on the kitchen bench she makes her way over. She leans down and kisses me softly but I can’t find it in me to kiss her back, too shocked.

“QUE CARAJO?” (WHAT THE FUCK?) Laia freezes beside me at the sound of my sister’s voice booming around the apartment.

“Now might be a good time for us to go.” Ingrid, ever the angel, reaches across her girlfriend and hangs up the call.

Laia and I give each other a look before I stand up. I knock my phone off the couch beside me and begin pacing the length of the apartment. Laia watches with wide eyes, unsure of what to do as I pull at my hair and try not to run my hands over my face. Avoiding the broken bone seems to be hard in times of worry.

Eventually she stands in front of me and grabs me by the shoulders, physically shaking me to snap me out of my panic.

“It’ll be okay. It’s not like she’ll fly over just to tell us off.” In a moment of foolishness, I nod in agreement and fall into Laia’s arms. She presses kisses to my shoulder as I rest my chin on her own shoulder.

Like I said, a moment of foolishness. Not 2 days later, María was knocking on my door.

“Sé que estás ahí! Open up!” (I know you’re in there!) I have no choice but to open the one thing separating Laia and I from the rage of my sister.

Laia stands beside me, hand squeezing my own. Both of us were terrified of what the older girl would have to say but knew we had to face the music. I can hear Mrs Goldfinch, the single mum next door, telling, or yelling, at María to stop. It’s hard not to laugh at the shocked and rather embarrassed face of my sister as the door swings open.

“Laia Aleixandri when I get my fucking hands on you!” she comes storming toward us so fast that I barely have time to shove my girlfriend behind me. Her injury doesn’t slow her down at all.

“Mapi! Mapi! We can talk about this!” Laia tries to reason with her but there is a flame in María’s eyes that show no mercy.

“No, I told you all, no messing around with my hermana. I told you there would be consequences if you did, so here we are.”

“María! I am a grown woman, I can decide who I date myself. When I was 15? I would’ve understood, but I’m 24 now. I love you but who I date is up to me. And Laia is it for me.” The fury in my sister’s eyes dissipates quickly.

“I’m sorry, I’m just trying to protect you.”

“I know, and I appreciate it so much, but this is for me to decide.” María surges forward and hugs me, barely missing my nose.

Laia stands awkwardly behind me, smiling at the interaction. I reach over to her to pull her into the hug.

“I love you both so much.” Laia leaves a kiss on my head and María squeezes me tighter.

María stays for a week before heading back to Barcelona for a check up on her knee. Laia and I spend the day after she leaves, curled up in bed, watch movies. My nose is okay enough to not hurt all the time, almost completely healed, so I rest my head on her chest, kissing wherever I can reach.

Similarly, she presses kisses to me head and draws patterns on my back. Both of us are close to falling asleep when she finally speaks up.

“I’m honestly glad that we got that out of the way. I love you but Mapi terrifies me.” A grin spears across my face.

“You looove me? I love you too bebé.” I can feel the joking roll of her eyes before I look up at her.

Without second thought, I press a deep kiss to her lips. We both turn out head to better accommodate the gesture.

“Fuck my nose!” the movement pushes the healing bone into Laia’s own nose and it begins throbbing in pain all over again.

“Lo siento coriño! Not again. I’ll get you some ice.” She ashamedly looks down as she walks to the kitchen.

There’s no one else I’d rather break my nose.

#woso x reader #woso #womens soccer #woso fanfics #wsl #laia aleixandri #laia aleixandri x reader #laia aleixandri fanfics #manchester city #manchester city women #manchester city wfc #man city women #man city wfc

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the-sun-and-the-sky · 11 months

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The Dress

Summary: A shopping trip leaves Bob with a new obsession.

Pairing: Bob x gf!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: NSFW, minors DNI, making out in public places, and no beta reading so good luck

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Remind me again why I can’t just wear my uniform?” You ask, annoyance creeping into your voice. “It would make everything so much easier.”

You gather a handful of fabric in your hand and twist back and forth in front of the mirrors. Try as you might, you still can’t properly see the back of the dress you’re currently trying on. The pale blue fabric scratches against your hand and you let it drop with a frustrated sigh.

Behind you, your boyfriend chuckles lightly. Without having to turn, you glare at him in the mirror. Bob holds his hands up in surrender as he moves to stand next to you.

“Because this technically isn’t a Navy function,” Bob reminds you gently. “So you’re not required to wear your uniform.”

You sigh again. You hate shopping on a deadline. Especially when none of the options are grabbing your attention.

“And,” your boyfriend’s voice lowers, the southern drawl becoming more pronounced. “I want to see you all dressed up. Want to show you off.”

A shiver runs down your spine at his words. When you glance over at him, his eyes are dark behind his glasses watching you.

You’d met Bob a few years ago when you’d both been assigned to the same squadron. There hadn’t been anything between you at first, just an appreciation for your skill as a pilot and his as a WSO. And while both of you flew with other WSOs and pilots respectively, you’d still found time to hang out and get to know each other.

Aircraft carriers are lonely places and before long, the two of you struck up a friendship that quickly devolved into other things. And that was how, nearly two years later, you were spending your weekend in a dress shop with your boyfriend, trying on dresses for a mutual friend’s engagement party.

“I’m just gonna…” you trail off, gesturing vaguely at the dressing room.

Bob nods and steps back to give you your space as you gather the dress up and make your way across the large, empty room to the curtained-off section. You feel his eyes on you up until the curtain falls shut.

Inside the dressing room, it looks like a bomb went off. Rejected dresses hang haphazardously on their hooks, a mess of colors and fabrics. The blue dress you’re wearing joins them. The airconditioned air hits your bare skin and you shiver as you consider the next option.

Three more dresses hang on the “yet to be tried” hook. With resignation, you reach for the top one, a lovely peach dress with a long skirt and plunging neckline. But you have a hard time getting excited about it.

The strap of the dress catches on another hook and you tug, trying to free it. A hint of red grabs your attention. You hang the peach dress back up, already forgotten, and reach to pull the red one out. Silk brushes against your fingers. You’d forgotten about this one.

Normally, when you weren’t in uniform, you preferred to wear soft, pale colors and loose-fitting outfits. You liked how they fit and how they complimented your skin. That familiarity was reflected in the choice of dresses you’d picked out to try today. All of them, that is, save this one, which you’d impulsively grabbed and buried under the safer options.

Quickly, and without second-guessing yourself, you slip into the red silk dress. The soft fabric falls around your thighs and the neckline gathers just above the swell of your breasts. You twist, watching the way the dress hugs your curves. The silk feels cool against your skin and you can just make out the crisscross of thin laces showing off your back.

You take a breath, readying a quick joke, and push back the curtain. But anything you might have said dies on your tongue as Bob’s gaze falls on you. For a moment, neither of you moves as your boyfriend takes in the dress. You swear you can feel the heat from his gaze as his eyes drink in every bit of red silk and exposed skin.

You finally break the silence. “So, thoughts?”

You move to stand in front of one of the large mirrors spaced throughout the room. You pretend to fuss with the dress but you track Bob in the mirror as he comes to stand behind you.

“Where were you hiding this?” He asks, his voice dangerously low.

You shrug, feeling emboldened by the effect the dress is having on Bob. “Do you like it?”

Bob doesn’t reply right away. Instead, his hands come to rest on your hips. You feel the heat of them through the thin fabric. The breath catches in your throat as an ache pools in your stomach and sinks lower. Bob presses his body against yours and you bite your lip, hard.

His hands brush against your sides as they travel upwards. The silk drags with them. Your breath hitches and you lean back against Bob. He hums approvingly and you lightly shift your hips to relieve the ache building between your legs.

Still quiet, Bob’s hands come to rest cupping your breasts. Your eyelids flutter and your head drops back to rest against his shoulder as he gently squeezes. A whimper escapes your throat.

“Look at you,” he breathes, his breath tickling your ear. “Look at what you do to me.”

You just manage to crack open your eyes to meet Bob’s gaze in the mirror. His eyes are dark with want. The same is reflected in yours.

Through the haze, however, one thought is crystal clear.

“Bobby.” He groans at your whispered use of the nickname. “We’re in public.”

Technically, the shop attendant had left the two of you alone but there was the very real possibility that she would return any moment. And as adventurous as you were, you didn’t want to get caught going at it in a dress shop of all places. None of your friends would let you live it down.

Bob considers this as he casts a hasty glance around the room. You watch his eyes land on the curtained-off dressing room. An idea blossoms on Bob’s face and before you know it, he’s pulling you into the small space and tugging the curtain shut.

You giggle, watching him trip over the dresses you’d rejected. Bob shoots you a smirk before pining you against the wall, his lips finding yours. Tulle tickles your cheek but you ignore it. Instead, you throw your arms around Bob’s neck and deepen the kiss.

Bob’s calloused hands run over your thighs, setting your skin on fire. Your breath quickens as he hitches one leg, then the other, up and around his waist. Without thinking, you tighten your legs, drawing him closer to you. He groans into your lips and you smile.

You can feel him against your core, your clothes the only thing separating the two of you. You rock your hips just to feel something. Bob pushes his hands up under the dress to grab at your hips, making the fabric ride up and pool in your lap. His fingers dig into your skin and you’re sure there will be bruises tomorrow. You hum in pleasure at the thought.

Bob pulls back from your lips and you’re about to complain when he dips his head and trails searing kisses down your neck and along your collarbone. Your head knocks painfully back against the wall, but you don’t feel it through the haze of your pleasure. Everywhere Bob’s lips press, your skin burns and you want more. You want it so badly, you’re beginning to rethink your stance on public indecency when a voice breaks through your spinning thoughts.

“Are you doing alright in there miss?”

Bob’s head jerks up, his expression of abject horror mirroring your own.

“Miss?” The shop attendant’s voice is closer now.

Bob’s eyes widen, silently begging you to say something. You cough hastily, your thoughts tripping over one another.

“Everything’s fine.” You manage to get out.

Your voice is a little out of breath but you’re proud of how normal you sound overall. However, there are no footsteps that indicate the attendant leaving.

“Actually,” you say, getting an idea. “I think I may need a larger size of the…”

You trail off, fumbling with the tag of the nearest dress.

“The Sky Lark dress, size four.”

“I’ll be right back with that miss. Anything else?”

“No,” you say, praying the shop attendant will leave.

Only when you hear her receding footsteps do you dare disentangle yourself from Bob. He helps you stand on trembling legs and throws a nervous smile your way. You grin in return, relieved.

“That was some quick thinking,” he says and you note the flush in his cheeks.

You shrug, like making out in dressing rooms is a common thing for the two of you. “I guess it’s just my keen pilot instincts at work.”

Bob laughs in relief as the two of you make yourselves look presentable again. After a moment of silence, he opens his mouth.

“You’re getting the dress though.” There’s no room for argument.

So that was how, when you finally left the dress shop hours later, it was with two drastically different dresses and a boyfriend detailing everything the two of you would be doing once you got home and back into that red dress.

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omnipresentlemon · 1 year

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Avatar Modern AU Headcanons: The Early Years

Spider was adopted into the family after Neytiri found him wandering around the neighborhood as a toddler in just a t-shirt and underwear on one of the coldest days of the year. She immediately went to the police station and within a week Spider was removed from the McCoskers and was taken in by the Sullys as his foster family.

Jake and Neytiri have it ROUGH for a couple years - four kids under four? Eywa have mercy.

Listen. It is inevitable that little kids have a favorite parent, but the Sully kids are a little extreme with their hardcore Mom Favoritism™️. Neteyam can only fall asleep if Neytiri sings to him. Kiri doesn’t like Jake reading their bedtime stories because “mama does the voices better.” If Spider gets hurt he is inconsolable until Neytiri kisses it better. Lo’ak throws a tantrum for at least an hour every time Neytiri leaves them with Jake. My dude is being bullied mercilessly by kids who can’t even spell their names yet.

I fully support @be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie’s headcanon that Jake and Lo’ak are mortal enemies until Lo’ak hits about 5. But like, in a Megamind kinda way.

Whenever Lo’ak is acting up Jake pretends to call Santa and tell him to put Lo’ak on the naughty list.

Lo’ak will tell other adults the most embarrassing shit about Jake in the worst circumstances.

When Lo’ak is two and realizes his parents have names other than mama and daddy, he calls Jake by his first name only for three months. Imagine trying to discipline your two-year old and he whips out the first name.

In retaliation, Jake refers to Lo’ak as “the brat attack” until Neytiri reminds him that he’s the adult in this situation. He still does it sometimes when Neytiri isn’t around.

Neytiri has the mom reflexes of a god. No ER trips on her watch.

In fact, the first ER visit for the Sullys was when Neytiri left the kids with Jake to go shopping with Mo’at for some baby stuff while she was pregnant with Tuk. They don’t even make it down the street before Jake is frantically calling about Spider splitting his head open on the edge of the coffee table.

Spider is the most accident prone of the kids not due to clumsiness but a serious lack of survival skills and critical thinking. He used to throw himself off the top of the bunk bed he shared with Lo’ak just for fun.

Spider is technically the oldest, but due to the McCosker’s neglect he has some developmental delays and regressive behavior. Neteyam loves being able to act like a big brother for Spider even though he’s a year younger. They have a rough patch when they’re a bit older and Spider starts to assert himself more, but at the end of the day they’re Team Eldest and lean on each other a lot.

Kiri was a leash kid. Jake thought it was embarrassing but Neytiri could no take another incident of Kiri disappearing in public because she saw something interesting and wandered off to investigate.

Bluey is a staple in the Sully household. Jake and Neytiri are just happy that the chokehold Paw Patrol had on their kids seems to have gone away. Plus, now whenever they’re mean to each other, they just have to ask, “would Bluey and Bingo treat each other like this?” It results in an instant apology 99% of the time.

They talk back to their kids babble like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. Neytiri has full-on soap opera plots. The kids find it hilarious.

Jake, at the end of the day, is a military dad. And that means it’s MMA every day in the Sully household, starting young. He’ll suplex them into the couch, throw them onto the bed from across the room, toss them so high in the air he sees the bottom of their feet. Neytiri at first hates it, but she sees how gentle Jake is and tries to let it go. Even if it gives her heart palpitations.

Neteyam’s first word was “dada”, Kiri’s “mama”, and Lo’ak’s “no”. Spider’s speech was severely delayed and it took half a year of speech therapy to get him where he needed to be developmentally, so there’s was hot competition between Jake and Neytiri over who would get his first word.

It’s neither of them. Spider’s first word was “Teyam”. Even when they’re older Neteyam lords it over Spider’s head (but if he thinks too much about it it’ll make him cry, he just loves his brother so much).

I def have more of these percolating in my brain, but for now, enjoy!

#avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar twow #jake sully #neytiri #spider socorro #spider soccoro sully #lo’ak sully #kiri sully #neteyam sully #avatar headcanons

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general-fanfiction · 1 year

Text

Don’t Trust Him. (Wally Clark x Reader)

Summary: With Rhonda, Charlie and Wally trapped in the fallout shelter, Y/N is their only way out.

Word Count: 2,727

Gif Not Mine. Requests Are Open!

Warnings - Violence, Swearing?

A/N - So I know technically the ghosts don’t bleed but I felt like it was slightly better in this situation if they did so let’s just pretend they do. I also apologise for how rushed this is, I really just wanted to get something posted.

Before I died, my knowledge of ghosts was based on what I’d seen in movies. Completely fictional. Turns out there is no way of communicating with the living, nor any way of possession or torment. Not even a way of leaving the place you died. Unless you’re the exception. Which in my case, turns out I am the exception. It’s funny, in life I was very much average, no different from the other thousands of kids attending Split River High. Though in death, I’m powerful. Able to leave the place that the others are stuck, able to speak with the living if only for short periods of time. Mr Martin tells me I’m a vessel. That I should be careful because other ghosts may attempt to take advantage of my unique skills. However, I haven’t had any issues so far. In fact, I’ve done my best to help those trapped here to heal old wounds. Allowing them to forgive.

I’ve been here since 2007, over a decade and yet I’m still the newest ghost. Rhonda died in the sixties, Dawn the seventies, Wally the eighties and Charlie the nineties. Not that I mind, as much as we’re a weird bunch, we’re friends. Hell, I consider them family at this point as we have done nothing but support one another since dying. Wally even more so. He made a point of helping me get settled when I died. Sticking by me through all my meltdowns and the struggles I faced when coming to terms with the powers that I held. It’s safe to say we grew close.

So close in fact, that we’ve been dating for the past seven years. Contrary to popular belief, Wally is fairly shy and so it did take a good few years before either of us dared to confess our feelings. I can’t complain though, we’d been going to homecoming together for years at that point and as we lay on the field gazing up at the stars, he finally asked me to be his girlfriend. What followed was a pretty eventful night fuelled by passion and desire. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Which brings me to the present day, returning from my trip to the grocery store, I wander aimlessly around the hallways. Hoping to find Rhonda, Charlie and Wally, however, they are nowhere to be found. I must admit, the empty hallways are pretty eerie, with Dawn gone the air feels heavier. She brought a certain lightness to the school that can’t be replaced.

Entering the basement, I find myself swinging the shopping bag slightly. Attempting to give myself a confidence boost by acting as though it’s a happy, cheery place to be. Despite residing here for all the years, I’ve never once found myself in the basement, so as much as I am creeped out, I do use this opportunity to be nosy and explore everything on the shelves. Nothing peaks my interest though. Dusty old paint pots and garden tools aren’t exactly my idea of entertainment.

At that moment I begin to hear yells and shouts for help. My head spins in the direction it’s coming from and only then do I notice the huge metal door tucked into the wall. Hesitantly stepping towards it, the shouts get louder, pleading for help. The voices sounding very familiar to those of my friends.

“Wally?” I ask, feet pushing me towards the door a lot faster as I realize who is yelling. “Rhonda? Charlie? Is that you?”

Pushing on the door, I try to move the latch but for whatever reason it is completely sealed shut. No movement whatsoever. It doesn’t matter which way I attempt to pull or twist, the latch isn’t budging. My brows furrow in confusion as I try to work out how this could have happened. The door is old but not old enough to become so stuck that it is impossible to open.

“Y/N!” Wally calls out, relief evident in his voice. “Y/N, we’re completely stuck, the back hatch is locked too.”

“It’s okay. I’m here, I’ll get you out.” I tell them, still pulling on the door, though my eyes shift around the room, hoping to find a crowbar or any sort of object that may help me.

“Y/N, be careful! You can’t trust him!” Rhonda shouts, her voice panicked, the first time I’ve heard her sound genuinely scared.

“Trust who?”

Before my question is answered, the basement door swings open and I see a shadow looming over me at the top of the stairs. The shopping bag slips from my hand, glass bottles smashing against the floor as I realize who Rhonda was warning me about. Mr Martin’s friendly demeanor is gone, appearing menacing and dangerous as he makes eye contact with me. Shuffling backwards slightly, I keep my eyes on him. Trying to calculate his next move.

“Y/N, do you remember our little chat?” Mr Martin asks, slowly descending the stairs with his hands clasped together, truly looking like a villain.

“I’m not sure which chat you’re talking about, but I’m sure you’re going to enlighten me.”

Each step Mr Martin takes towards me, I take a step back, putting as much space between us as I possibly can. Unable to contain it, I feel my body trembling, the sounds of my friends pounding on the door simply heightens my nerves. Their shouts fill me with dread and I do my best to remain calm, to remain observant. Mr Martin feels like a predator, stalking me as if I’m prey. Was he always like this? Were we all fooled by his supportive teacher act?

“A short while ago, I talked to you about your uniqueness.” He starts, throwing a sharp glare towards the metal door that my friends are trapped behind. “You told me that you wouldn’t use your gifts to benefit others. Clearly you are not a girl of your word.”

He talks slowly, I’m assuming to get some sort of reaction out of me. If I react on impulse, he is in control. I can’t let that happen. If he gains control of this situation, there is no way I can help Wally and Rhonda and Charlie.

“I don’t think I’ve really used it to benefit anyone other than myself.”

“Peach iced tea. Is that not Rhonda’s favorite beverage? Plus, I know for a fact that pack of jelly doughnuts is for Wally.” Mr Martin points out, reaching down to the shopping bag on the floor and rummaging through it to see its contents.

“If I’m going to the store, I’m going to pick up their favorite things. That’s called being a decent person.” I respond, feeling my back touch the shelves that line the walls as I continue to step away from Mr Martin. “They’ve been stuck here long enough, they deserve good things.”

He smiles, though it doesn’t reach his eyes and ultimately feels incredibly forced. Continuing to make his way towards me, I know he thinks he has me cornered. He thinks I am trapped in the room with him. Little does he know he has made one major mistake. If there is one thing about me, it is that I am insanely loyal and I will do whatever it takes to protect the people I care about. Right now, those people are trapped behind that stupid metal door, and there is nothing I won’t do to get them out.

“You know Mr Martin, I think you’re just jealous.”

“Y/N what the fuck are you doing?” Wally shouts, the banging on the door becoming more frequent as I sense he is becoming increasingly more panicked.

“Jealous?” Mr Martin questions, an expression of confusion on his face as he obviously didn’t expect me to steer the conversation in this direction. “Jealous of what Y/N?”

My hand snakes behind me at a snail’s pace, ensuring that he doesn’t catch the movement and spoil my plan. I just need to stall slightly, catch him off guard and then if all goes well, I should have them out in no time. Then I can stop worrying, especially about Wally. I know he’s only on the other side of that door but it feels like he is one million miles away.

“Well, you’re the only teacher here. Stuck with a bunch of teenagers, must be hard right? I’m sure you feel isolated and alone. Especially when one such teenager has powers that you can only dream of having. Powers that she uses to get her friends and boyfriend their favorite snacks or new books and films.”

“You think I’m jealous that you use your gifts on something so trivial?” Mr Martin questions, stepping towards me once more so we are practically inches apart. “Trust me Y/N, if I had the gifts that you hold, I would be using them to guide myself to the light. To cross over. Not you though, you’re just a stupid little girl that wastes talent on a bunch of people that do not care about you and are only using you for your gifts. I mean do you really think Wally would be sticking around with you if you weren’t able to bring him little treats? Though I suppose you did spread your legs for him the moment you arrived so who really knows.”

With a sigh, my hand takes a firm hold of the paint pot handle. “I really wish you hadn’t just said that.”

With a sharp swing I aim the paint pot directly at Mr Martin’s head, hitting him right above his ear. A pained groan escapes his mouth as he is knocked off balance, planting his hand against the wall so that he doesn’t fall to the ground. Sure, he can’t die twice, but I’m certain that I can at least knock him out for a while. As I go to swing the pot again, his forearm blocks my blow. Sending the pot clattering to the floor.

“Well now I’m angry.” He states, giving me no time to react as he grabs the end of one of the smashed glass bottles swiping at me with the sharp end.

Despite finding reassurance in the fact that I can’t die twice, I still wince at the feeling of the glass drag directly across my cheek. Cut opening, I feel the blood dripping down my cheek and in the one moment that I reach up to hold my wound, Mr Martin strikes again. Blunt end of the bottle hitting the back of my head sending me crashing to the ground. Grunting softly as I hit the floor with a thud.

“Y/N!” Wally bellows, worry laced in his voice and guilt floods through me as I hate to put him through this. “Y’N be careful, please. Y/N!”

Rhonda and Charlie are shouting as well, pain in their voices as they are evidently stressed out not knowing what is going on and only being able to hear the sounds of our fight. It must be hard having no indication of who is winning.

Flipping myself so that I am no longer facing the ground, I watch as Mr Martin stands over me. Dropping himself into a crouch, his fingers brush a stray hair out of my face. A wicked smirk settled on his face.

“Such a pretty face, too bad nobody else will get to see it.”

A rush of energy pulses through my body and with all the strength I can muster, I manage to stretch my arm out to grab the paint pot. Repeatedly hitting the teacher over the head with it and I feel little splatters of blood coat my face and body as he collapses to the floor. When I see no sign of movement, I begin to search through his jacket pockets. Whether that’s for a key or a key code, I’m not too sure. Though, I’m hoping when I find it, I’ll know.

With just my luck, a key slips into my hand, just in time for me to watch his body disappear as he resets to wherever he died. I’m unsure of how long he will be out and so for now I ignore my injuries focusing on finding any sort of lockbox.

“I’ve got a key. Any idea where it’s supposed to go?” I ask, hoping I can find some sort of answer from the three behind the door.

“I’m pretty sure there’s a little box to the right of the door, just above the ground.” Charlie answers, allowing me to search quickly.

Within no time I have found the box, twisting the key to find a switch which completely resets the lock on the door. This time when I try the door it pushes open with ease and I’m greeted by a swarm of tight hugs. Even Rhonda wraps her arms around me, squeezing slightly.

Wally hangs back, waiting for the other two to finish their greetings first. As soon as he gets the chance, he’s sweeping me off my feet, hugging me so tight that I feel as though my ribs may shatter. He’s twirling me around clearly happy just to see me again, and no doubt to be out of that room.

“I hate to break this up guys but we should probably head off before the evil teacher decides to come and take his revenge on Y/N.” Rhonda states, already beginning to make her way up the stairs.

Once we make it to the library, Wally is immediately all over me. Tending to my wounds as best as he can with the limited medical supplies we picked up from the nurses office on the way. He has a slight frown on his face as he wipes away the blood and I can’t help but place my fingers under his jaw, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips as a way of cheering him up. Yet the frown remains.

“Hey, what’s wrong? We made it out didn’t we?” I ask, cupping his face with my hands, thumbs stroking his cheeks.

“Yeah but I should have been out there to protect you. If I was there you wouldn’t have been hurt. You would never have been in that position.” He tells me, eyes not meeting mine as he speaks and I have a feeling that it’s because he is embarrassed and ashamed that he couldn't do anything.

Smiling softly, my lips press against his forehead, followed by both cheeks, then his nose, chin and lips. As I’m peppering kisses all across his face, he finally begins to crack a slight smile. His hands wrap around my forearms as he tugs me into a slow, heated kiss. Lips moving against mine at a relaxed pace and I find myself pulling at the hair on the nape of his neck. He groans quietly, hands moving to carefully pull me onto his lap as we get caught up in the heat of the moment.

“Can you guys please be gross somewhere else?” Rhonda asks, tilting her book down slightly to make sure we hear her.

I giggle as a soft rose blush tints Wally’s cheeks, pink from ear to ear. It’s cute, and he’s the most relaxed I have seen him since leaving the basement.

“Not to kind of spoil the mood, but what do we do about Mr Martin?” I ask, sharing a worried glance between the three other ghosts sitting at the table.

“I mean, we’re already dead, he can’t hurt us.” Rhonda states, a logical answer though I’m sure he’d still find a way to make our lives hell.

“Yeah but he still trapped us and look at Y/N’s face.” Charlie comments, clearly nervous by the entire situation. “No offense.”

“Not to mention he’s been studying us.” Wally adds in, to which he receives a questioning look from me. “I’ll fill you in later.”

“I guess we just avoid him and maybe brush up on exorcisms and ridding ourselves of negative spirits.” I say, smiling at Wally as I feel him reach for my hand under the table.

As eventful as today was, and as scary as today, I’m no longer scared. Mr Martin may be big and tough but I know that the four of us are able to take on anything. Besides with Wally by my side, I know I’m able to accomplish anything.

#wally clark #wally clark x reader #wally clark fic #wally clark imagines #school spirits #school spirits fic #school spirits imagines #rhonda #charlie #mr martin

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sapphicrow · 16 days

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The choices for the side enemies in each section of resident evil was very deliberate, and shows off both what Mother Miranda thought the lords deserved and what suits their characters. This may have been for difficulty purposes for each area, but still. I think it is a nice tidbit of flavor to our characters even if it’s indirect. Also I have brain rot.

Moreau doesn’t have any mobs. His reservoir is uniquely isolated. It’s evident from the way the other lords treat him that this is how they feel towards him as well. He isn’t a popular fella. As such, Mother Miranda granted him no special protection or privileges. Besides, I’m sure his bile would repel any creature, even a zombie or moroaica.

Lady Dimitrescu has many creatures within her castle because she interacts with more people on the regular. It’s canon that she had a whole service of female servants who were regularly harvested and experimented on. These subjects are later turned into one of two things: moroaica (the on ground creepy crawlies), or samca (the harpy looking things on the roof). Though we know Alcina isn’t Miranda’s favorite, she’s still pretty high up there. She had to make these critters herself still. Plus, her castle is huge and it only makes sense to have scattered security. I’d say Alcina’s daughters count as a high honor and another reflection of the characterization of Castle Dimitrescu.

As for Lady Beneviento, her situation is an interesting one. Angie doesn’t quite count as a mob, since she is technically an extension of Donna’s consciousness. This is obviously part of her as a person. Disregarding Angie, Donna has no major creatures. I say this because I don’t believe her dolls count as beasts bestowed upon her by Miranda. They’re handmade. She had to harness the skills of cadou experimentation, combined with the craftsmanship of doll making. This reflects Donna because she is isolated, but skillful enough to combat it unlike Moreau. She’s delusional, but evidently not to the same degree as Sal. She copes in her own fucked up, crafty way.

Last but not least, Heisenberg. Now, Heisenberg is Mother Miranda’s established favorite. The golden child. The sun of her sons. It’s also established that Mother’s fondness is by no means requited. Heisenberg loathes her. But nonetheless, even with his absolutely meh loyalty, he has a fair deal of power bestowed upon him. Disregarding his cadou abilities, he has the entirety of the lycan pack. That is no small force. Miranda practically trusts the most dangerous lord with an army. I’d like to believe she isn’t stupid enough not to realize his faulty loyalty, but I feel as if she treats him like a second true child. He’s the son that could’ve been Eva’s big brother should everything have worked out. Love is blind, and Miranda’s too busy to question cutie Karl. Karl also has the Soldats that he’s made himself. This is an intriguing view of him in my opinion. Karl lets Ethan slaughter Miranda’s creation because the entire time he’s been using the powers she gave him to oppose her. Silly guy moment.

Mother Miranda herself has no side mob which is very purposeful as well. She works alone. Her sidekick is the cadou, which we see in the form of all those root looking appendages bursting forth from the ground later in the game. Unlike Moreau who’s isolated due to his insufferable and odorous nature, Miranda is alone by choice. By grief, more accurately. Why bother with companions when Eva isn’t back yet? For her shattered mindset, I’m sure the thought of her daughter is companionship enough. Even with the mold making an appearance, Ethan only has to engage in combat with her herself. This is because even with the mold present, she’s still the vessel. It’s illogical and unnecessary for the megamycete to risk itself when Miranda is right there and so willing to take the blunt of the force.

The megamycete’s side mob is every single thing infected with the mold.

Thank you for reading :) hope it was coherent

#resident evil village #lady dimitrescu #mother miranda #re8 #donna beneviento #dimitrescu sisters #karl heisenberg #salvatore moreau #yapping #moroaica #samca #I know this was really long and perhaps irrelevant but whatever #thoughts

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lttleghost · 1 year

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The Thematic Relevance of Jesse Pinkman as an Egg 🏳️‍⚧️

(I wrote this analysis awhile back and wanted to make a fresh post to update it!)

While not intentional, there is a lot in Breaking Bad that supports reading Jesse as an egg. This reading of Jesse has a lot of thematic and narrative relevance and also doesn't create any conflicts with the canon material. Jesse being someone who hasn’t realized he’s not actually a man yet could quite literally be canon.

This analysis is heavily based around parallels between Jesse’s character development and what Breaking Bad thematically associates with gender. It’s also heavily interconnected with the show's overarching theme of change, and also, at least for our two main characters of Walt and Jesse, the revealing of true self. There’s plenty of evidence that each of them already had the traits we see them with at the end of Breaking Bad. Jesse being this very kind and compassionate young adult and Walt being this egotistical monster.

But I would consider Walt's self-deception to be more shallow than Jesse’s self deception. While Walt did end up in a lifestyle that was opposed to who he truly was, he consciously knew what he wanted to some extent, whereas Jesse fully convinced himself that he was a different person than the one he truly is because he never really got the chance to actually figure out much about himself.

There are a lot of examples of Jesse’s disconnected sense of self throughout the show, but the first one that comes to mind has to do with his superhero OCs-

EDIT: YO! if you find video essays more engaging than reading a bunch of text, this analysis now also comes in video form [link]

I think that Jane’s observation that all of them looked like Jesse was, in fact, correct. I wouldn’t consider him doing this as a conscious decision but I feel that he almost admits it. After initially denying that his OCs looked like him and after Jane affectionately teases him he ends up saying to her “like you never wanted a superpower.” And while you could interpret this as just a response to her teasing, I’m convinced that there’s an additional layer to it. Especially because when Jane leaves to check the door, there's a moment where Jesse looks at the sketchbook with his drawings and it seems like he’s considering something, and I’d bet you anything that what he’s thinking about is whether or not he had actually drawn himself and this is REALLY interesting since-

Jesse is a criminal right? And while superheroes themselves are technically criminals as well, as vigilante justice isn’t actually legal, they’re still typically known to be ‘crime fighters’, and Jesse describes his characters as being such. So with his OCs subconsciously being depictions of himself and them being superheroes (crime fighters) and his current life as a criminal, you get the image of someone who doesn’t know who he is or what he wants deep down.

There’s no way that Jesse’s current delinquent lifestyle was his truly… preferred path. It’s much more likely it was the only thing he thought he could do successfully. It’s evidently been the one thing he’s made a decent living off of. He has no support from his parents, and doesn’t seem like he has had it since he was a highschooler. Jesse is shown to have no support outside of the drug trade. Most of his personal skills and interests are artistic or honestly domestic in a world that assigns more value to academics and he’s a highschool graduate who doesn’t have any job experience.

I also believe Jesse is very aggressively ADHD coded, and the combination of having virtually no support, struggling with addiction, and having undiagnosed and improperly self medicated ADHD would make slogging through any “respectable” job that he has access to, or any job that his parents might encourage him to do, unbearable.

So the drug trade was his best bet, Jesse even views cooking meth as a form of art, something that he’s passionate about.

I can’t in good faith ignore that doing something that is... generally frowned upon, didn’t factor into what Jesse chose to do on some level, as society and the structures that it’s built on failed him and there’s an inherent sense of rebellion that often forms in a person when they’re failed like that. Granted, superheroes also tend to often contain some commentary on societies failings as well. Jesse just couldn’t actually be a real-life superhero. So with the few benefits it had in practice compared to any other job, Jesse played into the rest of the role of a criminal, and convinced himself that the aspects of it that conflicted with his personality... didn’t, probably without even noticing.

Even more to this disconnect; When Jane asks “and that’s a superpower?” in response to Jesse explaining Backwardo’s powers Jesse responds with “come on, I was a kid when I drew these, it was like four years ago.” And Jesse is 24 years old in that scene, meaning that he would’ve been 20 when he drew these characters, and when I first wrote this analysis I was wondering whether or not Jesse had gotten involved with the drug trade other than buying drugs by that time, but there wasn’t really anything I could confirm any theories with.

But now I've got the Better Call Saul episode “Waterworks” where Jesse has his second cameo, where he is in fact, 20, and in that cameo Jesse accompanying Emilio, a person we know is his partner in cooking meth, to Saul’s office makes me certain he’s in it by that point. And I just have to wonder if Jesse’s superheroes were almost a… subconscious vent, a manifestation of how being a criminal in the specific way Jesse is, is not what he wants. Something that suggests that Jesse’s actual identity and his current view of his identity don’t line up.

Another thing to point out about the cameo that could be seen as additional evidence of Jesse’s discomfort with being more than just a customer of the drug trade is that he was hanging out outside of Saul’s office, and until Kim gave him one he didn't have a cigarette, so he wasn’t out there to smoke. And while there could be other explanations to why he was outside on his own, I don’t think it’s much of a stretch to say, other than just his general skepticism of Saul, he was just not particularly jazzed to be where he was at that moment and not comfortable going inside.

So relating all of this to gender; that narrative of convincing yourself that you are the person that you’re supposed to be for your best chance of survival instead of being able to truly be yourself already works pretty strongly as an allegory for being trans. But to add onto that even more, thematically Breaking Bad associates “manhood” with the drug trade in one way or another, and paralleling how Jesse realizes he doesn’t fit into the drug trade like he thought he did with how he might not be a cis man like he thought he was makes for a really solid queer reading.

The whole show is pretty explicitly about toxic masculinity. Obviously in real life masculinity and manhood do not have to be toxic, and in Breaking Bad’s original intended story Jesse is a cis man who ends up not fitting into those toxic ideas of manhood.

Things that the rest of the male cast don’t blink at or at least have more mild reactions to, just tear Jesse apart. He’s also targeted at least a couple of times for having emotional vulnerability that is considered to be “not manly”. It’s much easier to point out the differences between him and the male cast than it is to point out similarities between them and this just gets more pronounced the longer the show goes on. He doesn’t really have any positive ties to being a man and I don’t think we can say we ever see Jesse actually reclaim his own sense of manhood. And I think that lack of reclamation gives even more legitimacy to the reading that, along with leaving the drug trade and all of its toxic masculinity bullshit behind, maybe Jesse just leaves behind being a man altogether, and maybe it was something that wasn’t really ever a true part of him, just like his life as a criminal.

Even at the start of the series Jesse’s attempts at hyper-masculinity come off as really goofy and performative. In episode one Krazy-8 mentions that Emilio thinks that Jesse might’ve ratted on him Jesse first has a much more genuine response of “that’s bullshit” which makes sense with his strong character trait of being loyal, but then he goes to say “I should kick his punk ass for even thinking that.” and it just sounds like fake bravado to me. There’s no way Jesse actually thinks he stands a chance against Emilio since Jesse has a body type that resembles a small bird and there's no way he has that little self awareness. He's just playing out a script that wasnt even well thought through, and while some of his other performances of masculinity don’t come across as that fake, there aren’t many that feel like they actually come from Jesse himself, they just feel like something that he just thinks he should do.

And while not every experience with men Jesse has is negative, there always seems to be some distance between him and the men he does have good relationships with. Jesse forms a parent-child type relationship with Mike that is healthier than any other he’s had up to that point other than probably his aunt, but there’s a part of Jesse that Mike never seems to fully get. When Jesse doesn’t want Lydia to be killed Mike says that 'this woman deserves to die as much as any man' and I think he misses that Jesse just still isn’t that keen on killing people even with everything he’s gotten involved with. Even if there are some acts of violence and even some people’s deaths he is fine with and thinks are justified, Jesse never fully adapts to “the job” the way Mike does, and Mike is just not quite able to understand that, or at least not why.

Jesse and his friends have a distance between them as well. Though they’re arguably not as entrenched in toxic masculinity as any of the other prominent men in the show are, and aren’t nearly as involved in the violence of dealing drugs despite being in the trade. Yet still Jesse’s interactions with them most of the time feel different and more withdrawn than their interactions with each other. Like Jesse really wants their presence and company and wants to fit in but there ends up being something that he can’t connect with alongside them, and this also gets more prominent as the show progresses. There’s parts where Jesse seems to be withholding how badly his “high rank” in the drug trade is affecting him when Pete and Badger seem to sort of idolize him for it and want in on it. I think Jesse sort of considers saying something to them about it, but he hesitates and doesn’t. He repeatedly doesn’t confide in them even though, while his friends do perform some facets of hyper-masculinity, they don’t really seem to target or reject vulnerability in the way most of the other men in Breaking Bad do. And Jesse’s distance from even the more harmless side of the male cast makes it feel like it’s not just the toxic masculinity that he’s disconnected from.

Jesse’s relationships with women even further separate him from the men of the show. His romantic relationships with Jane and Andrea read much more as relationships between equals, compared to Walt and Skyler or Hank and Marie. While Jesse does throw the “nice job wearing the pants in the family” insult at Walt in episode two of the first season, after Skyler almost caught him moving Emilio’s body, in Jesse’s own relationships he never actually tries to take control and doesn’t have any problem with Jane honestly being the person making more active choices for the both of them in their relationship, which Walt comments on by throwing that same “nice job wearing the pants” insult back at Jesse.

Another interesting thing found within Jesse’s relationship with Jane that ties them to specific gender roles happens after Jane doesn’t really introduce him to her father. Jesse asks about it and after a bit this Jane ends up saying “What am I supposed to say? Hey dad, meet the stoner guy who lives next door and by the way I’m sleeping with him?” and Jesse replies “Is that all you think you’re doing?”

It’s been pretty common for “the guy” to be considered as the one who sees a relationship as just being sex and “the girl” to see it as being romantic, and this is a very very dumb aspect of traditional western gender roles that this scene even has to subvert, but I think in the context of Breaking Bad’s dealings with gender roles the fact that Jesse is put in the role much more typically associated with women could be viewed as significant. And this significance can be extended to the show’s most prominent dynamic, dealing with the relationship between abusive men and women, Jesse is a victim. I’m not implying men can’t be victims of other men's abuse, but it does make Jesse easier to associate with women in the story, and while the narrative association comes from a negative place, the negativity is directed towards men. But the connection it forms between Jesse and women is a sense of camaraderie and even comfort, at least on Jesse’s side.

and with those connections with women I’d say the most accurate egg interpretation of Jesse is that she’s specifically transfeminine in some way.

I think in this analysis its important to specifically examine Jesse's journey with gender questioning as I think it follows the rest of the ups and downs in her learning more about herself in the resr of her character arc. My personal interpretation of Jesse is that she is a non medically transitioning nonbinary transfem person. The not medically transitioning bit is largely because I enjoy bringing attention to the existence of no-med no-op trans people and to push the point that not seeking medical transition doesnt make a person any less trans, though I do feel that since Jesse's relationship with gender is focused on the societal side of gender roles that don't really relate to physical form that it's a reasonable interpretation that she may not medically transition. I think she uses he/him and she/her pronouns, and is maybe a futch lesbian. I’m saying all of this because it'll be the lens through which I’ll be talking about Jesse’s journey with questioning his gender and how that progresses during the timeline of Breaking Bad. However I don’t claim this to be the only version of transfem Jesse that works with my analysis, or that it's necessarily better than any others that do work. I’ll also be mentioning concepts of “offscreen” additional scenes. That being said, if you’re someone who likes to stick 100% to the text given to us, the “offscreen” scenes aren’t exactly necessary for this interpretation to work as a part of the existing story as the general emotions behind them still stand.

I don’t picture Jesse as having any definable Gender (™) experiences when he was younger other than just a general sense of not belonging, though gender wouldn’t be the only thing playing into that. But as Jesse got older and struggled more, he started to purposefully play the part of what he saw as “a man” to survive in the only role that he thought he could. I see the thought “I wish I didn’t have to be a man” crossing his mind every so often though. I think he just deals with his place in the world for awhile, but after Walt enters the scene and Jesse experiences shit he really didn’t bargain for because of his old teacher, someone who is settling into a personification of toxic masculinity, Jesse’s frustration with being a man becomes more prominent and harder to ignore internally.

In my opinion Jane is the person that helped him start to solidify what exactly those thoughts were indicating. Her approach to relationships would be considered not traditionally cishet, and so is the way she presents herself in general, so I think Jane has some sort of knowledge about the complexities of gender, if she isn't actually queer herself in some way.

And she’s one of the only people we see Jesse truly, truly open up to and so I think at some point later in their relationship Jesse might actually say something about wishing she wasn’t a man around Jane, and I can see Jane saying that Jesse doesn't have to be a man if she doesn't want to be.

But then Jane dies, and I think as a result of that and the lesson Jesse learned from rehab “I’m the bad guy” he goes into just total repression mode. Embodying this new belief Jesse very much dips into the hyper-masculine behavior of the drug trade, he is much more concerned with money beyond paying bills and having nice things, and he plans to do the one thing in the entire show that makes me truly angry at him because of this whole thing, attempting to sell drugs to the rehab group. I don’t think he would’ve ever thought of doing something like that before. He’s trying very hard to be something that’s even further from his actual nature than we’ve seen up until this point.

Part of Jesse’s grief over losing Jane, a person who he confided in probably more than anyone else at that point, was to just completely close up, even to himself. Forget all of those parts of himself that resisted the rougher aspects of the drug trade he was getting dragged into and definitely forget about wondering if he really is a man or not.

At least until meeting Andrea and Brock, which snaps him out of that “I’m the bad guy” mindset, but by that time I think just, too much starts to happen for Jesse to have much time to question her gender. I wouldn’t consider her to be as actively repressing any sort of “I wish I wasn’t a man” thoughts but the amount of turmoil and danger that she’s in, just really really doesn’t lend itself to that sort of gender introspection as much.

I’ve got some additional thoughts on Jesse’s journey with gender that are more headcanons than actual analysis of the show so I didn’t include them in the text above. But I still really wanted to share because I like them and think that they really add to the analysis, so here they are;

I mentioned that I don’t think that Jesse had any particularly notable moments that might’ve suggested that she was trans when she was younger other than feeling out of place, but maybe he did have some interest in playing with “girls stuff” and her parents discouraged it because as we know they’re the shitty type of people who value their child being “normal” at the price of that child’s happiness, but I can also see her being one of those kids who just didn’t even grasp the differences between boys and girls stuff for a longer time than others, or I can even see Jesse’s last connection to the "male" side of gender being from when she was a little boy, before he was aware of the concept of what being a man was, and that it would be expected of her.

But later, in his adulthood, after the idea and pressures of "manhood" became very present in his life, one of the more certain instances of gender questioning I picture Jesse having is at some point while hanging out with Badger, Pete and Combo, Jesse screws around and puts on a dress. And he's like “haha I look like such a queer don’t I?” but is internally thinking something more along the lines of “ I will die before I tell anyone how this makes me feel” (that being that it makes him feel happy).

And then, as we enter into the timeline of the show itself; when Jane first tells Jesse that he doesn’t have to be a man if he doesn’t want to, I don’t actually think that Jesse would be receptive of it at first. I think it’s more likely that he’d decide he suddenly doesn’t want to have this discussion anymore and change the subject. Jesse would still have the misconception that you need to medically transition or at least be required to fit some sort of ‘criteria’ to be trans, instead of just identifying as a different gender than your assigned sex, and I think that would play some role in his not wanting to talk about possibly being trans. And even more because, while he could opt out of telling anyone that he’s trans, Jesse’s in a world in general that isn’t trans-friendly, but the drug trade he’s in specifically is very lgbtq-phobic. Jesse himself is definitely gonna have some internalized transphobia, we’ve seen his homophobia, and I definitely read that as a result of his environment rather than actual hatred considering at Jesse’s true core he’s a pretty caring person. But there are definitely people in the drug trade who would be violently homophobic and transphobic, and Jesse would know that, and would probably perceive even realizing that he is trans to be a threat to his safety. But, later on, further into her relationship with Jane I think she’d open up, even if only to Jane.

And that’s what I like to focus on the most with this analysis, all of the happiness and freedom and healing that Jesse gets to feel detaching himself from manhood, something that honestly contributed so much to every part of his suffering. And god does this girl deserve some happiness.

Then when for the most part too much is going on for Jesse to consider whether or not he’s trans, I still sometimes think of a situation where Jesse might’ve suggested? Her gender questioning to Mike, and while I don’t think Mike’s personal reaction would be technically negative, I think he’d tell Jesse to ‘please not share that with anyone else kid’. Which would be discouraging to Jesse, and she’d quickly backtrack, some because of the reaction on its own but also because he really already knows that it’d be stupid to say anything to anyone else, but it’s not until Jesse’s really free from the drug trade that she can finally crack that egg. I really like to think about the comfort and relief Jesse would get to feel no longer having to try and be a man, cause she finally realizes that she isn’t one.

#breaking bad #jesse pinkman #jesse breaking bad #trans jesse pinkman #queer analysis #breaking bad analysis #brba #jesse brba #this is my girlfriend don't touch him #meat.txt #this is a shortened and edited bit of my video essay script #i just like.... HAD to update my inital text analysis while im working on figuring out how to successfully record my video #cause the old one is so jumbled and stufff #or it feels jumbled to me now at least

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miss-sweetea-pie · 9 months

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A zutara rant about Aunt Wu’s prediction.

As a proud Zutarian I personally love the idea about aunt Wu’s prediction that she gave Katara about marrying a powerful bender is actually hinting at Zuko being the guy.

But I did see some antics mention “Zuko isn’t a powerful bender and it’s mentioned a lot that he’s not that good, they didn’t even think he was a fire bender bah bah”

First off that’s very rude!

So let’s over, analyze the fortune teller episode. Looking back on that episode we noticed that Aunt Wu’s predictions are technically accurate, but not always as they seem. this gets confirmed by the end of the episode and how that one man smugly tells Sokka that the prediction, said the village wouldn’t be destroyed and it wasn’t. Or that one guy having a safe trip and almost getting attacked by a platypus Bear but the gang saves him, technically, he still had a safe trip.

So the whole prediction is “ I see great romance for you the man you’re going to marry, he is a very powerful bender.”

(technically that wasn’t actually the whole prediction, considering A.ang was eavesdropping and well Kat@ang is all about A.ang and his feelings but I digress)

So the first half I guess is more about your taste in romance. I don’t think or feel like the canon kat@ang is this great epic romantic personality. But hey i’m willing to admit it could just be my taste. However the show does give us an example of a really powerful romances between Oma and Shu. In story lore of a romance that is so great it has been remembered for centuries and has a city named after them and ironically it has the famous enemies to lovers trope. hmm Interesting.

What I can defend though is the part that mentions “the man you will marry is a very powerful bender” you see A.ang it is a very powerful bender and once he is a fully realized avatar, he will probably be considered the most powerful bender. but like I pointed out Aunt Wu’s predictions have a catch or they’re not always as you expect. And she said, A (not most) very powerful bender that could technically be anyone right? considering there are masters for all the different elements and being considered a master is still very impressive and seen as an accomplishment Even if you are not the avatar. So her future husband could be a possible Master. Adding the fact that most of the masters are old so this person could not even be fully realized yet, Insert Zuko.

So people mention that he isn’t that great of a bender or he’s not that powerful and yes, the show does mention that, but also who tells us that? Oh right. His dad the literal villain. The people that try to put him down tell him that he isn’t good enough. personally, I also think the show try to contradict that by showing us moments. for example in book one he did take down Zhao and showed him mercy. (when I watch the show, I think Zuko is actually holding back a lot of the time because he does have a consciences. his whole arc was kick started by him, having a conscience and being empathetic so I don’t think it’s crazy to imagine him holding back a little). so when Ozai calls Zuko weak it’s kind of similar to how he calls A.ang weak in the finale. But no one questions A.ang not being a powerful bender. Hmmm weird.

Also, the other reason why I think Zuko being the one in the prediction is just better for the story is because the idea that you can become a powerful bender just feels so satisfying to me. In the show people still need to find masters and grow their skills. we are shown that people get better at things over time if they apply themselves. I think that’s a really good lesson. A similar lesson is already applied with Katara I may add, so it’s pretty fitting in a way.

Also the fact that he learns the true meaning of fire bending adds a nice layer of depth. it isn’t just about the skill of fire bending It’s also about the mindset. It really goes to show how he really has become a better and powerful bender in the end.

#zutara #katara #anti kataang #zuko #zutarian #basically i smell cap whenever someone says omashu was not a parallel to zutara #the fortune teller episode was a zutara episode #Zuko is a powerful bender

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afreakingdork · 1 month

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Weak Spot - Chapter 60

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

This week's chapter art by @garbagemilkshake lights up the night

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Marathon Sex, Somnophilia, Bondage, Feral Behavior, Feral Donatello, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Public Sex, Dom Donnie, Human/Turtle Relationships, Turtle Noises, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay

Synopsis: A love story of villainous proportions! Though it hadn’t come easily, as these things rarely do, you found yourself in a whirlwind romance with a handsome and mysterious mutant. His idiosyncrasies had been easy to ignore as attraction grew into something more. However, will love endure when the unknowns about him end up being far darker than you ever considered?

STOP! BEFORE YOU READ:

If you can stomach excessive violence, please remember that this chapter technically falls chronologically after the Sore Spot one-shot. However, it is not required reading and you will not miss out if you could not read it for whatever reason.

Fem!Reader References/Warnings Below Cut

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

Fem!Reader References/Warnings: Hospital, egregious injury, coma, intubation, needles, IV, coma, drugs, bleeding, broke bones, medical descriptions, medical tests, guns, gunshots, ect

“You’re late.”

“Sir.”

“47 minutes this time.”

Heavy sigh.

“27 the last and an hour and a half prior to that. You have two assigned patients total, one of which is no longer in critical condition and yet, here you are, late for the last round of your shift.”

“If you think-!”

“133 Pitt St, Apartment 3B, New York, NY 10002.”

Sharp inhale.

“Contain your personal life. You shouldn’t have moved in with your boyfriend so fast. Of course, he’s cheating on you. If your sloppy time management skills are any indication, you were never meant to be a suitable partner.”

“THAT’S ENOUGH!!! I’M THROWING YOU OUT! I DON’T CARE THAT-!”

“Again!?”

“NO! NO MORE! I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU SAY! I REFUSE TO-!”

“Please, ma’am! I’m begging you! I know! I know what he’s like and he’s a million percent at fault, but if you could-!”

“He just said my home address.”

“Eugh boy…”

“He’s cruel. He’s mean! He never stops! He’s-”

“Ma’am…”

“No! Don’t you ma’am me again! Do you know how many nurses have refused to serve this room! You are down to less than a handful and mark that down as one less because there’s no way in hell I’m coming back here. I’m filing a fucking police report. I’ve had enough of this shit. He threatens us. He lies. He antagonizes. He hovers! He’s a stalker! He’s a bastard! He should have been kicked out the moment he pulled that stunt in intake! I bet he was the one who did this to-!”

Slam.

“H-He-!”

“Donatello!”

Slam.

“Get out of my way, Leonardo.”

“Do you want to be cut off!? That’s what you’re fucking doing! We’ve been busting our fucking butts to keep you in here, but that’s enough!! Don’t you get it?! Do you want to be here when Y/N wakes up or do you want to be miserable and alone!?”

Snivel.

“She… insinuated… that I…”

“I know.”

Rustle.

“I know.”

“I didn’t…”

“I know…”

Sigh.

“I’m taking charge.”

Sharp inhale.

“That’s the only way this is going to work. You threatened her, idiot. What the fuck did you think was going to happen?”

Hmph.

“Ma’am…”

“You think I was gonna be moved by that?”

“Look, I get it. This is… There isn’t a way to explain this. All I can promise you is that if you can… find it in your heart to let this incident slide, there won’t be another.”

…

“I’m taking full blame, full responsibility. If he acts out of turn again, he’s banned. I’ll make sure of it.”

…

“Please.”

Heavy sigh.

Clink.

“You saved… my sister two years ago from a monster… er-“

“Monster. I’m not sure it was a mutant.”

“Right.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s… I’m only doing this because of that. Not for him. Fuck him. Hey! Yeah, I’m talking to you. Fuck you.”

…

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.”

Squeak.

“And one cup of absolutely burnt coffee for the-!”

…

“I knew it!!!”

Clatter.

“Donatello!”

“Don’t.”

“I knew you were hiding something, but this-!”

“Get back.”

“What did you inject yourself with!?”

“That doesn’t concern you.”

“The hell it does! You think you can-!?”

“Don’t you dare touch me.”

“I didn’t mean-!”

“You know why, now leave it.”

Bang.

“I heard yelling! What’s going on? Donatello!”

“It’s alright, Lee.”

“Don’t you pull that shit! What happened!?”

“It’s fine.”

“Knock it off! No, it’s not! You’re going to let him talk to you like that?! What was that?! I was gone for five seconds!”

“Leo.”

“Don’t ‘Leo’ me, Mikey! Everything that happens is on me. Don’t you get that? You need to tell me what just happened!”

…

“Well!?”

“I got too friendly, Leo. Nothing else. I swear it.”

…

“Damnit…”

“It’s been 2 weeks.”

…

“Donatello.”

…

“Say something.”

“I keep time. Down to the second.”

“Then you’ll know that you haven’t slept. Not once.”

…

“Donatello.”

“I fatigue of hearing my name come from your mouths.”

Heavy sigh.

Creak.

Squeak.

Wane.

“I… I know what this is like.”

…

“I know you know why I know.”

…

“It’s not going to get easier.”

…

“I know you don’t want to hear this.”

“You presume too much.”

“Donatello!”

“What? Why do you insist on pleading your case? Why do any of you? You think of yourselves so highly. You are wretches. You are sheep parading yourselves as saviors. You flock if only because you are too feeble to attempt anything alone! You think I need you? I never have! I never will! You have hitched yourselves to a technicality at best! That I let you live and occupy the same vicinity as Y/N is happenstance at best! Yet you press! You always press. Always. You never stop! You never have!!! You will plague me for my lifetime and I will never be rid of you so, please, pray tell, Raphael, what wisdom on this dimension or any other could you possibly think to disturb me with this time!?!”

…

“Ya done?”

“I should have-!”

Scrape.

Crash.

…

“You need to eat and drink. Actual food. Actual water. Y/N will need you when they wake up. All I was gonna say. I’m taking my turn outside. Try considering that we might care about something other than you once in a while.”

Step.

Click

Fuzz.

Someone left an ancient video set on.

It was plugged in for the sake of it.

Or it was being checked.

To see if it was still operational.

Something was beeping.

Not overly loud, but enough that it made a thrum in the room.

It smelled clinical.

Dry, but with a must of synthetic polish, it spoke of industrially cleaned linens and hospital corridors.

There was an actual hum.

The kind that came from fluorescents when they painted everyone a sickly hue.

Something was in your mouth.

A twitch found a tube in your nose.

You were cold.

Every breath came with an ache and numbness.

It all channeled down your throat.

You were layered up with blankets.

Three parts of you were free as far as you could tell.

Your left arm.

Stiff, folded, and holding emphasis.

Your head.

Lying on a papery substance concealing more than one pillow.

Your right hand.

Only emerged enough for something stuck to the back of it and large digits cupped between your loose fingers.

Two digits.

Two long, thick fingers.

You squeezed with as much force as you could manage.

You heard a little grunt.

You shifted to dig your nails.

“Woah there.”

Not Donnie.

That wasn’t Donnie.

It wasn’t Donnie.

You made a weary noise and tossed lightly against your pillow in dismay.

The thing in your mouth shifted.

You choked.

“Shh. You’re okay. Breathing tube. I know, I know. I also know I’m not the one you want, but I can get him. Can you hang tight for me, kay?”

The fingers returned the hold.

Eyes.

You wanted your vision.

You cracked a lid and winced it back shut at the light.

“You’re in the hospital. I’ve got you.” Another hand came to touch your leg in a neutral, but reassuring way. “You with me?”

Knowing there was too much white, you opened your eyes slower this time and glimpsed Leo leaning over you.

“Hey, Y/N.”

You croaked.

“That’s all the confirmation I need.” He gave your hand a final squeeze before walking to the end of your bed. “Any more false starts and he’d lose it. The roving eye thing has been a nightmare.”

Gaze adjusting by the second, you watched him slice open a portal and Donnie clamber through with a rush of sound. “You had seven more minutes before you were meant toI-! Does that mean-!?”

Leo stepped out of the way and held out an arm.

Donnie rounded his head and was at your side before you could blink.

Function was difficult.

He cradled your hand close and you saw the wire attached to it.

Tracing it drearily, you found several bags sitting above you dripping liquid directly into your veins.

Coming back down, Donnie had tears in his eyes and a watercolor smile on his lips. “Y/N.”

You creaked, rusty on your intubation.

“Yes! We’ll get that right out if possible! Of course!” He brought his beak down and kissed the tips of your fingers. “Procedure says you should first explain whereabouts as a patient may be confused.” Donnie gave a sharp nod. “Y/N. There has been a travesty. We were in the Hidden City when we were ambushed. We-I-No-We were drugged… and you… you were…” Tears threatened to fall and he choked with a swollen throat.

You squinted at him.

None of that made sense.

You didn’t remember anything like that.

You remembered.

You remembered a beach.

You remembered a love potion.

You remembered rolling in the sheets with your mate.

You remembered.

You made a fearful noise and pulled at your body.

None of it came as it should.

Your arm wasn’t just folded, it was taped down to your chest.

In fact, most of your body was constricted.

The pull clanged along muscle groups and you felt a pulse trained inwards on your abdomen.

Shooting sparks of pain straight into your gut, you gave a soft pained cry and tried to kick.

Only one leg responded.

The other was lead and weighed down.

You were choking.

“Y/N, w-wait! P-please!” Donnie refused to touch any more of you.

“Donatello.” Leo appeared just behind him.

“Don’t. It won’t. Not now.” Donnie went to snap at the blue turtle.

Leo stared back, stoic.

“Don’t…” Donnie managed, gaze falling.

“Y/N.” Leo took to the other side of the bed and reached in to adjust a strap of bandage on your shoulder. “Listen. You’re at the Mount Sinai on Madison. You were in emergency, then the ICU, then you got assigned a room. Saying you were banged up is an understatement. You almost died. You might have, if we hadn’t…”

Relegating to pupil movement, you first stared at Leo, then checked with Donnie.

Your boyfriend gave a sharp nod where he’d taken Leo’s seat at your side and your hand.

You rasped.

“They had to medically induce a coma so we could figure out what substance you were injected with. You were considered an overdose patient until then. S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. cracked it and passed the info along so they could treat you. Then you… didn’t wake up. They considered it a regular coma after that. You were stabbed in your shoulder, miracle it missed any of the three arteries there. You’ll have a hell of a time with physical therapy for the muscle though. Your left femur is broken, but that… We’ll get into that later. You were cut along the ribs and stabbed in the right upper torso, into the liver. You were in surgery for hours. Internal bleeding… concussion… broken bones, you name it.”

You made a flighty grunt.

Donnie squeezed you.

You sent him a weak flick of your eye.

Leo sighed softly. “Button time?”

“I hit it a moment ago.” Donnie answered, not looking away from you.

Leo nodded and put his hands on his hips. “Ready, Y/N?”

Leo.

Donnie.

Together in the same room.

It only occurred to you now that there was an issue with that.

There was so much happening.

All of it was wrong.

You shifted your pupil between the two and translated what you hoped was a question.

“I’m assuming you’re wondering about this?” Leo pointed between him and Donnie. “Another explanation for later because you’re going to want to sleep after what’s about to happen… I sure as hell did.”

He walked to a corner and you wanted to know what he meant, but a nurse walked in. “Oh…! How are you feeling!?”

What followed was torturous. Over and over your sanity was questioned and examined as they checked your faculties. Tests were done in abundance and you were poked and prodded by what you assumed was every metal device known to man. A legion of doctors, nurses, and contracted medical personnel filed through to tell you similar and yet all new information about your wounds. Tubes were inserted, removed, and shifted around in what you could only imagine was a cruel cosmic game of hokey pokey. You picked up little details where you could under the barrage. There had been something about mysticism, both bad and good. You’d healed nicely. You had more healing to do.

It had been three total weeks since the attack.

You held onto that lost time with an iron claw until you were forced upright. Both for physical examination and because a wheelchair arrived for some test that couldn’t be done in this room, you saw Donnie keep a wounded strength up and Leo keep his distance. Both men had been similarly cycled, in and out of your vicinity, for the sake of decorum. You alternatively had none as you were carted around for more scans where doctors both talked to and around you. By the time you were uncomfortably back in bed and finally left alone, you could barely keep your eyes open.

“Sleep.” Donnie kissed your temple.

“Donnie…” You fought your lids.

You hadn’t gotten to talk to him at all.

His name was probably the first thing you’d said to him.

You wanted to say so much more.

How could you be tired?

You’d been asleep for nearly a month.

Donnie hushed your mind and a glimpse of him was the last thing you saw.

You woke up sometime in the night to a nurse fiddling with your IV.

“I have to get used to seeing you.” She teased lightly, checking the cord and coming away with a syringe.

You grunted out a sound.

“Don’t mind me.” She told you before giving your good leg a pat and disappearing around the bed. “Just something to ease the pain.”

You stared after her shape and caught a dull hue of Leo on the far side of the room.

Squinting, you found him watching after the nurse before he turned with a tired expression.

Following his gaze led to Donnie who was waiting with a patient expression.

“Hey.” You told him still groggy.

“Hi…” He pet your arm. “No need to get up.”

“No… I… I’m… can I…?” You stirred, trying to remember if sitting up was a chore.

“What do you need? Feel free to sign an approximate.” Donnie watched on with tepid affection.

In the corner of your eye you saw Leo turn his head in a way to give you privacy. You eyed him openly before returning to Donnie. Your first real look at him, you saw how the last few weeks had taken their toll. An odd midpoint in comparison to your last separation where he’d headed to the Hidden City alone, he looked a little on the mend. Eyes sallow, but skin perked with some vestige of hydration, he mostly looked exhausted.

“Water…” You decided, your throat dry and still cracked from the tube.

“You might have trouble swallowing, go slow.” He retrieved a pitcher and cup from a side table before filling it carefully to offer it with a straw.

Knowing he would hold it, you wrangled the lead with your lips and sucked in the life giving liquid.

He lowered it when you’d had enough.

“Sore…” You mumbled, leaning back and feeling the cool drink travel downward in your body.

Donnie nodded.

You took your time reaching up to cup his cheek with a spin of your wrist to coax him in. “Not clean. Sorry.”

“I’ve done my best.” Donnie whispered, coming in only enough to barely rest his forehead against the side of your head.

“Why-?” A cough caught you and each wheeze thudded through your wounds.

Donnie disappeared to monitor you closely.

Hand falling away, you winced against the aggravating loose, but tight nature of your esophagus.

You heaved a sigh as you caught your breath with the ragged little pinpricks that still held on.

Taking additional time to simply breathe, you eventually calmed enough to look out at Leo. “Explain this.”

Leo perked up in the moonlight seeping through a window and approached.

“Now?” Donnie asked without pressure.

You gave a single nod.

“Consider it a bedtime story.” Leo refused an actual smile, but there was a jovial edge to his tone as he came around to the opposite side of the bed. “We make it boring enough and we can put Y/N right to sleep.”

Donnie barely rolled his eyes.

“What got you here or this situation?” Leo asked with minor disdain, ignoring Donnie while also referencing him.

“Both… from the… beginning?”

Leo gave a knowing nod. “When I got the call, you were…”

Donnie bristled and had to hold himself.

“Bad.” Leo decided with a tight eye over your boyfriend. “It was bad.”

Donnie closed his eyes.

You reached for him.

He caught your hand and held it delicately to save the IV.

“We were together so we moved together.” Leo went on.

“Toget…?” You struggled on the syllables.

“Me, Mikey, and Raph.” Leo confirmed.

You bobbed slightly.

“Skipping over our entrance onto the scene, Mikey sort of…” Leo juggled his phrasing.

Donnie was up and away from you.

You stared after him and noticed he’d taken the time to set your hand down before fleeing.

“Mike’s got all sorts of mystic mojo.” Leo tried anew. “I knew you were going straight to surgery and Mikey sort of… snuck into prep.”

“Wha…?” Your lips parted dry and you wished Donnie would come back with the water.

“I wasn’t there, to be clear, I’m going off what Mike told me, but basically he zapped you with magic before the staff caught him.”

“I don’t…” You wanted to shake your head, but you settled for a failed swallow.

“In addition to flying, Mikey can kinda sort of teleport like me, but it’s different… he can…” Leo struggled.

“Leonardo trained with an artifact to hone tears through space. Michangelo can rip through space and time with his bare hands.” Donnie spoke, his back half turned to you. “To his detriment. You’ve seen his scarring.”

Leo seemed unperturbed by this knowledge. “He’s banned from it, but I can’t control him in an emergency or last resort sort of thing. It’s… a whole thing, but he can manage very short distances without it… without…”

“Leo…” You murmured, sensing there was something painful there.

Leo took your acknowledgement as a cue he could skip over details. “He took one look at a hospital map, teleported into the OR, dumped as much mystic healing into you as he could, teleported out when he was found, and then promptly passed out for an entire week.”

You heard Donnie inhale to speak and both you and Leo waited for him to, but he didn’t.

Something was off here.

You felt like you hadn’t woken up.

Pangs said otherwise, but you still wanted to pinch yourself.

Leo and Donnie were being as civil as you’d ever seen them and only a few weeks didn’t seem like enough time for that.

Something else was happening, but you were struggling to keep up as it was.

“What… did he…?” You hoped that was enough.

Leo lightly touched a blanket crease on the edge of your bed. “He mostly reassembled bone fragments. From what I understand, flesh, with all its blood vessels and such is a harder patch, but he did get some in. Mostly that gash along your ribs. Overall, it’s more of a general spell. If it had been me-” Leo’s teeth caught the light.

“You…?”

“Medic training.” Leo held the first bitter edge you’d seen to him. “I’m a trained medic.”

Donnie rotated further away.

Why were you losing him?

“Mikey took you from a femoral break to a fracture.” Leo kept a sharp gaze. “Your bone was shattered.”

“Oh…” You gazed down at your body.

“T-tricky with the casting.” Leo stepped up to point and shift the topic. “It’s called a spica. A groovy kind of asymmetrical bottoms, half shorts, half pants, which you have, but they should have cast it up your whole torso, only they couldn’t because of the… stab wounds…” He drifted, his acrid edge returning.

“What’s… going… on?” You got out, the many odd signs too much for you.

“I’m sure you don’t want some medical textbook info on the arteries… But I think I can simplify it-”

“Leo.” You pressed down on his name.

Donnie was nearly curled into the wall.

“Donnie.”

Your partner's head barely rotated at the sound of your voice.

“What… happened?” You wheezed.

You’d asked Leo to start from the top.

Instead, he’d skipped around.

Now there was an ever changing air as if something enormous was being avoided.

You had to know. “Tell me.”

Leo tugged your sheet until it was smooth. “Intake.”

The word oppressive, you felt the other two suffer under it where it held no connotation to you. “What… about it?”

“You still don’t remember what happened during the attack?” Leo asked, edging closer to you with an odd timber.

You shook your head slowly.

“A… Hidden City police officer… abducted you both.” Leo began, a clear wary of Donnie even though he didn’t look. “The guy disobeyed the temporary pardon. We know next to nothing about his goal.”

Your hand flexed and you felt the bite of your IV needle.

“Without you, there’s no account of what happened. The perp left no evidence of planning or anything so we have to assume it was spontaneous, but… we don’t know. We won’t know. Donatello regained consciousness right before the guy tried to…”

Your gaze flew to Donnie where he’d wedged in a corner.

He didn’t know what happened?

No one did.

Was he guilty?

You wished you could go to him.

Leo gave a shaky exhale. “I can only say what I saw for sure.”

You were slow to trek back to Leo.

“Donatello called me and… asked-”

“Begged.” Donnie spoke venom. “Say it.”

Leo’s eyes flashed a warning that Donnie didn’t catch. “I guess he… beggedfor my help. I portaled over and saw you… you were… you…”

Soothe them.

You wanted to hold Donnie.

You wanted to pat Leo.

If your arm closest to him wasn’t bandaged down you might have managed the latter.

Leo seemed to notice your intention and gave a tired smile of his own.

This was the closest he’d been to you yet.

His eyes looked like Donnie’s.

“I scooped you up with the others trailing behind and portaled us straight to triage.” Leo cut through the silence. “I had to leave you bleeding out on the nurse’s station because…”

“Y/N.” Donnie spoke around shattered glass.

“You won’t tell it.” Leo ground out just shy of a bark.

“I should…” Donnie tried to turn, but there was an odd glint to his eye.

“Donatello…” Leo had that warning to him again.

“I can talk about it!” Donnie’s voice held a rising bile. “I am not some child!”

“Donatello!” Leo took a few steps over.

“I lost control!” Donnie turned to plead his case with you.

Trapped in your bed, you felt strapped down.

You couldn’t help.

You were helpless.

“I didn’t see the yokai, you know.” Donnie crept forward slowly. “Your-our-your attacker.”

He looked a vision similar to a sleep paralysis demon.

Your heart clutched and it reflected in the ever constant beep of the heart monitor.

Leo neared the edge of the bed, his body readying.

Donnie saw nor heard neither. “I saw a knife. I saw you. I saw you speak your last words to me. Then I saw purple.”

Leo’s arms went up.

“They were trying…. They tried… They-!!!” In a single blink, Donnie’s eyes lit up a bright fuchsia. “They weren’t going to touch you.”

“Stop!” Leo’s eyes spun a blue similar to his portals.

Dancing lights filled the room.

For every flash of purple there was an equal blue swallowing it up.

It cast horrifying shadows across Donnie’s face. “I couldn’t control it. I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t stop the bleeding. I couldn’t-!”

Leo caught Donnie’s shoulders in a swift move.

You flinched away as the dueling lights picked up to a blinding luminance.

There was a sharp choke.

You forced your lids up to see the glow gone and Leo’s leg lifted where he’d kneed Donnie straight through his plastron and into his stomach.

Donnie hunched with drool dripping from his mouth and had just caught himself from vomiting at the force.

Leo let go just as fast and held up innocent hands as he backed away. “Well? How’d that work out for you?!”

Donnie winced, clutching himself for a moment before he raised his own hand as a signal.

“What… was that…?” You looked at them both, feeling a ghost amongst them.

“Donatello unlocked his ninpo.” Leo turned to you looking haggard.

Now a moment away from tears, Donnie scrambled to his side of your bed on his knees. “I’m sorry. Are you okay? I’m sorry. I didn’t-!”

Your hand immediately went to his cheek and though your body raged and you were only allowed a few inches, you turned toward him as much as you could.

“Don’t do that…” He scolded and your action alone was enough to ground him minutely.

You shushed him with affection and pet down his jaw.

It took two strokes before he went a calculated limp against you.

“Has this…?” You swallowed hard and the cup appeared in front of you.

Hating how much maintenance you needed, you took a quick sip before shaking your head to force the swallow down.

“This has been… happening the whole time… since I got…?”

“Put in the hospital.” Leo nodded and staggered a few steps before he caught the bottom of your bed.

“What… power? Why… now?”

Leo rubbed an eye and mocked. “What power?” He clicked his tongue. “We… as in my family, believed it was only possible for clan members. You unlock your ninpo through acceptance. You have to have faith or trust or believe in the Hamato clan, in us, in family, and poof! It’s the only way you should be able to…” A form of irritation brought Leo upright. “Mikey and I unlocked ours to save Raph. It should be for family. Our family. That fierce protection. That-”

“He unlocked it…” You looked at Donnie.

He was curled into your palm with his eyes screwed shut, looking especially young.

“…saving me?”

Leo clicked his tongue.

Donnie gave a nod that was more of a nuzzle.

“It was wrong.” Leo spoke sharply.

A purple gun appeared in his face long enough for you to watch it cock before Leo realized and a tiny blue portal swallowed it up.

“Enough already! We just did that! You already flipped out so chill!” Leo growled, his eyes still entrenched in a glow.

“Don’t you tell me that saving them was a mistake in any way.” Donnie pulled from you to bare his fangs.

Several cycles of purple and blue cascaded a waterfall around Leo’s features. It painted him haunted before his face broke into true dismay. “I would never.”

The flickering stopped and you didn’t dare look at Donnie.

“How you activated it…” Leo shook his head trying to bury the raw emotion. “Your faith is misplaced. You get granted Hamato rights because you’re a Hamato. Because you believe in one another and how we’re stronger together… You are supposed to believe that you are a part of something larger and that they have you, everything about you. Every single bit. They will do anything for you! You don’t…! You don’t believe any of that!” His eyes rose with tears caught by the pale lights in the room. “That’s why you’re wrong. You tore into a power you shouldn’t have. That’s why you don’t have control. It will never be okay. It will never be yours! It shouldn’t.”

Donnie finally turned inward toward you and there were broken flickers of purple in his gaze like a match trying to light.

You had very little movement, but used what you could to grab his mask and tug.

He came limp and loose into your good shoulder and wilted there, shutting off the light.

Leo grunted about his weakness and did a small pace to recompose himself.

“Leo…” You murmured, petting Donnie with a heavy weight that he accepted.

“Yeah…?” He rounded the edge of the bed.

“That was… What Donnie made was…?”

“Weaponry.” Leo spat. “His power manifested in the same shit he started with. Destruction as always.”

There was a humming vibration of a phone.

Donnie flinched into you.

Leo pulled his device out.

“What’s wrong?” You whispered to Donnie, knowing you couldn’t go low enough to not reach Leo’s tympanum.

“The others…” Donnie rooted closer to you. “… they’ll come now.”

“Why?” You wished you could hold him.

“The flare of ninpo.” Leo answered, tacking something out. “They’re worried. I’ll tell ‘em it’s okay for now. You… I’ll give you this.”

Donnie couldn’t thank him, but he chuffed a sound of acknowledgement.

That seemed enough for Leo.

You felt a depth of what they’d been through without you.

It was huge and weighty and both of them were overtaxed by it.

All because of you.

“Raph said you each had… specialties or something…” You murmured.

Leo stared dully at the blue light from his phone illuminating his face. “Donatello has built guns a million times over. Now he can assemble them without anything, but his mind. Makes sense. A stupid fucked up sense.”

You read the faintest emotion of him.

Fear.

“Leo-”

“I don’t agree, but Mikey has a different theory.” Leo pocketed his phone and his angle entrenched him in darkness. “He doesn’t see a problem with the unlocking because it was done to protect. He thinks the malfunction is tied to Donatello holding back. Something about him not being able to embrace the power because he’s forcing it away like everything else.”

Donnie exhaled revulsion.

“Agreed.” Leo puffed his own.

He did hold back.

You stroked down, tracing towards his concealed mating mark.

Did Donnie disagree because Mikey was on the right track?

He’d come a long way, but he still believed that the person he was with you wasn’t the authentic one.

He’d also said he could never live as himself.

That meant he’d never harness this power.

It loomed overhead, something even more dangerous than his enemies.

“It does… seem connected to your anger.”

You felt both men look at you, but you only watched Donnie.

“From… the little I’ve seen…” You tried to sound sheepish.

Donnie leaned in to rest his beak against your cheek. “You’re correct.”

Leo broke away and walked toward the window.

“And you two have just been…?” You glanced between them. “Together… this whole time?”

The palpable disdain swept through the room.

For a long moment neither spoke.

Donnie seemed the more sturdy of the two for now, sighed to retreat lightly, and adjusted your covers. “Not at first.”

Leo scrubbed his face.

“The initial chain of events went as such: I was…” The moment weighed on Donnie and took his voice.

“Not again…” Leo turned, looking twice as exhausted.

“I can do it.” Donnie pressed, harsh. “Look away.”

Leo bristled with obvious concern.

All you could think was how strange it was.

In such a short amount of time they’d seemingly come so far.

The Leo you knew would have taken every opportunity to barb Donnie.

Your Donnie would never allow the amount of supposed weakness he was currently displaying.

“I can.” Donnie tried again, his voice more even.

Leo said nothing and turned to tuck his head against the wall.

Donnie was slow in taking your face.

A familiar cascade of affection, it coaxed a smile from you and he nosed you lightly before drinking you into a kiss.

“My breath…” You murmured against the chaste press.

“Brushed earlier once the tube was removed and you were up to it.” Donnie caught your lips again and you realized the light brushes were to keep any errant smacks at bay.

“I’ve slept…” You teased him with the lightest nosing though the reach with your neck disturbed the muscles in your shoulder.

“You will learn to lie still.” He spoke with light heat and stole what was an obvious final kiss with a heavier press.

You relented into the pillow and failed to catch a soft sigh.

“That day… After disposing of that miscreant, I was beside myself. You needed more immediate attention then I could possibly… I found your phone. I called… When Leo appeared… I… I passed you off. My inadequacies were…”

“Too much…” You found his hand near yours and squeezed it.

He nodded and nuzzled close. “I let him take you, not more than a step behind, but Michelangelo…”

You tilted your head the slightest amount.

“You were deemed an obvious emergency and taken immediately. That I stood for, but Michelangelo he only…” Donnie paused and took a deep settling breath. “He had been nearby, suddenly saying he could help. Then he disappeared. I… It was an unknown variable. Him alone with you. With his mysticism… I… He hurt you before…”

You studied his eyes closely.

He leaned in to give you a better view, illustrating his gaze was free from purple, before nudging you with his beak. “I was irate to say the least. The staff would not let me warn them. Everyone kept telling me to calm down and then…” He caught himself and with several false starts to give a heady exhale. “Raphael subdued me after I manifested an entire arsenal and nearly leveled the waiting room.”

Leo shook his head against the wall, but you read it less as a disagreement and more of distress at the memory.

“His projections aren’t sturdy enough to dispel mine however. He temporarily knocked me out as the drug was still in my system.” Donnie continued. “When I woke, moments later, I was propped in the waiting room, informed Michelangelo had been returned to the sewer, Raphael was having a few superficial bullet wounds treated, and Leonardo was sat beside me.”

Leo flittered with a faint movement that you found to be his fist nervously tapping near his hip.

“For a while…” Donnie wrangled himself in and pulled away minutely to check your IV. “We sat as such for several hours until Leonardo spoke in regards to our predicament. A repeat of my display would put you at risk. The blue bast-ahem-Leonardo was meant to only be utilized as emergency transport. It was a temporary necessity. However… I was forced to acknowledge there was now more at play.”

Leo’s head tipped up and he looked toward a darkened ceiling corner.

“The staff had no choice but to accept my staying by your side once I was able.” Donnie had a faint smirk to him. “In situations such as those, I am unbothered. What power do they have? Police?” His teeth gleamed around a laugh, but he subdued it. “It was… your ongoing treatment that proved difficult. Not up to my standards. We’d failed to get S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. inside. You required the facilities and providers available here, but…”

Your lips parted and Donnie offered more water for you to sip.

“My threats along with my volatile ninpo made a dangerous combination. Not that they could have kept me away, but I was threatened with several premise bans.”

He let the cup sit comfortably against your side.

“You see, upon our arrival here, each of us displayed our powers meaning the uninitiated were confused. Sure, there is an irritatingly obvious color coding, but what was less evident was the effects. Raphael had smothered my attack so only sick, delusional waiting room patients saw a hallucination at best. No one of importance saw what my ninpo created. This was for the best, but to keep it that way, as the lethality of my manifestations happens to be off putting to some-'' Donnie flicked a quick glance toward Leo in gesture. “-I had to be monitored…” His lip curled. “The others sat with me in rotation. I was unfortunately in need of their attendance in case my ninpo activated. The three traded off, but Leonardo’s ninpo is most suited to safely disarming mine.”

Donnie came close enough that you could lean on him.

“Waiting at your side gave me only time. Slowly, I achieved enough emotional control so as not to create weapons at the slightest provocation, but I am still me. I acted my usual and voiced my overall displeasure with your ongoing unconscious state. These… comments were not appreciated and compounded as I had worn my welcome. On supposed ‘thin ice,’ there was a particular incident where I slipped and allowed a nurse to see one of my manifestations. Thus a final deal was struck.”

Leo felt comfortable enough to turn and watch with a worn expression.

“Leonardo…” Donnie took on a strange expression that bordered appreciation. “… stepped in. He used his connections, status, and manipulation to garner you a better care rotation. In exchange, he was charged with being my full time handler. I was to defer to him in exchange and he put his entire public reputation on the line if only to keep me from actually being kicked out. If only… to allow us...” Donnie carefully cradled your hand. “... to stay together.”

You were overwhelmed.

Suddenly awash, your chest tightened lethally and you sent water works in Leo’s direction.

The blue turtle startled at the emotion and gave a single sharp nod as if it was a normal duty as any other.

“Shh, don’t waste your limited energy on him. Again, not that it would have mattered. Nothing would have kept me from you.” There was a fragility to Donnie’s usual bravado.

You pinched his fingers to translate that you noticed.

He looked away with the faintest noise of frustration.

“That was a week ago.” Donnie murmured.

“Back up some.” You let go of him to point.

Donnie studied you before adjusting his stool with a rolling slide.

It put him more easily in your reach and you tugged his mask up from his beak.

He grunted, annoyed, but allowed it and you revealed the deeper dark bags barely concealed by it.

Trying to betray little, you delicately put Donnie’s mask back in place before gesturing for Leo to come over. “You next.”

Leo walked to his spot on the opposite side where he yanked his mask up, unprompted, for you to see his equally swollen lids with an amused fluttering of his lashes.

“Him-” You threw a thumb back to Donnie as you spoke to Leo. “I expect to not sleep, but you?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time I lost sleep over the jackass.” Leo smirked.

Donnie rolled his eyes.

“He’s up, I’m up.” Leo shrugged and used both hands to get his mask right.

“I would never allow myself disarmed around you.” Donnie growled lightly.

“And you see why neither of us have slept.” Leo’s hands fell away and he cracked you a manic expression like it were an ice cold drink.

“Where was…?” The memory seemed so vague. “Donnie was portalled in… when I woke up.”

“Ah.” Leo nodded, thoughtfully, before sending a smarmy look at Donnie. “Now where were you at, hm?”

Donnie bristled.

Leo pulled his expression slightly, but waited with a cocked ridge of his mask.

Donnie let a canine peek as he turned an acidic expression to you. “I have… scheduled meal breaks.”

Leo wiped a hand over the lower half of his face, no doubt covering a smile.

“A bargain to make you eat…?” You looked over Donnie with knowing affection.

For a split second you saw a swipe of guilt flash over your boyfriend’s face before he settled to a neutral expression. “My choice. An accepted one around. The only agreement was travel.”

“My moment of freedom tainted!” Leo held up a dramatic hand. “Basically, the jam jackass will only go to the cafeteria if I portal him there.” Leo shook his head free of his hand to show his disdain. “Mike or Raph take it from there, but still.”

“My retribution and instantaneous returns.” Donnie sent a lowered lidful of affection toward you.

“I’m not a damn taxi.” Leo grumbled.

You took them both in before you exaggerated a pout.

You then sank deep into your pillow though it made your body ache.

Donnie switched to worry and touched your arm anxiously.

“Leo.”

Donnie twitched with faint annoyance over you ignoring him.

You held out your hand to soothe him.

“Hm?” Leo leaned back, folding his arms.

Donnie took your hand and sulked.

“I get your stupid banter comment now.”

For a beat nothing happened.

Then Leo popped a single snicker before he burst out laughing.

You clucked along with him until the bubbles of comedy clung and irritated your liver.

Donnie pressed your arm to urge you to stop.

You tossed him a smile.

Leo came away, wiping his eye. “Oh man, I’ve lost my mind… That was good. What a call back…!”

“I’m mad I didn’t see you two get close.” You pursed your lips.

“We aren’t.”

There was a certain amount of horror passed between them which Donnie dispelled with a puckered focus on his face.

“Knock it off, bozo!” Leo’s lip curled.

“What are you doing…?” You touched Donnie.

“Trying...” Donnie’s eyes narrowed, willing something with all his might. “… to shoot him between the eyes.”

“You can’t do it on purpose yet and hopefully ever.” Leo sneered.

“If you keep that up he will.” You stared at him dully.

“Pfft.” Leo blew a raspberry. “I’ll just do a little abracadabra and poof, it’s disappeared right before your eyes.” He did a flourish with his hands.

“Hypno would be insulted.” You tilted your head away from the poser.

“Hypno’s a hack!” Leo threw up a hand. “I’ve studied the greats!”

“Since when do you-?” You reared your head. “No… I’m… I’m too injured for this.”

Donnie puffed with a single bubble of laughter and then painted a stoic face as if nothing happened.

“We’re literally right here. This room is dead silent.” Leo shook his head.

“Donnie…” You chewed your lip.

Donnie turned his beak up.

“Seven straight days of this.” Leo threw a hand out to Donnie.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to say!” You tapped your sheet. “I missed it! Donnie, pull up the recordings!”

Donnie’s hackles went up.

Leo put extra shine on a snarky smile.

“You…” You looked between the pair before settling on Leo in awe. “How the hell did you get him to agree to not tape this?”

“You’re on the line. You’re literally the best bargaining chip anyone could ask for!” Leo turned a smile on you that was eerily similar to Donnie’s malevolent one.

They’d spent too much time together.

“Weak spot…” You whispered in spite of yourself.

“Come again?” Leo held up a hand to his tympanum.

“Nothing.” You crooned.

Leo cocked his brow through his mask.

“You have to fill me in on everything.” You demanded from both of them.

Leo opened his mouth with a retort, but a nurse appeared in the doorway with a tapping foot. “Ahem.”

“Maria! If it isn’t the most lovely night nurse this side of Queens!” Leo spun to her in a flourish and seemed to almost manifest sparkles.

She seemed largely unbothered, but you caught the slightest ghosting of pink to her cheeks from the fluorescence in the hall.

“Give ‘em a break. The lovebirds are making up for lost time…” Leo cooed.

She huffed loudly and renewed the fold of her arms. “They and everyone else in the corridor also need sleep.”

“Done.” Donnie spoke.

Leo polished his grin.

She glared openly at Donnie before sending Leo a pointed look. “I’ll check back in fifteen.”

“I’ll be waiting.” Leo gave a little amorous growl and you gagged to Donnie.

His lip wrinkled with a smile that he buried as soon as Leo walked back over.

“Think that’s a pretty good demonstration of how this arrangements been going.” Leo tossed a thumb back to where he’d come from and reverted to what you assumed was his neutral setting.

Donnie stood and fluffed your pillow.

You looked him over affectionately and felt that ever present exhaustion tug at you again.

It was there.

It had been there.

Speaking of it felt like a command and now it threatened to engulf you.

You hated the helpless feeling of it all.

“Just like that.” Leo hummed, cocky.

“Shut up.” You grumbled.

“Finally, someone else can tell him.” Donnie took his seat and assumed what must have been his usual waiting posture.

“Ugh, almost forgot you let him ruin your morality.” Leo made a big show of rolling his eyes.

You had more complaints, but your lids were heavy.

“Get some rest.” Leo blessedly dropped the complaint and took a seat in a far chair.

“We’ll get you home soon.” Donnie took your hand and pressed a careful kiss to it. You made a little sweet sound for him, but your vision of him skewed as you dozed off.

💜NEXT💜

Through every crazy little idea I have, my darling betas are right there with me and I could be more honored to know @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

#weakspotfic #rottmnt #rottmnt donnie x reader #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #donatello hamato #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #me #fanfiction #my fanfiction

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