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#is this implying that as long as someone has the intent and successfully manages to not pay taxes it counts as a felony
eudico-my-beloved · 1 year
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if i die with the intent to commit tax evasion would said death count as a felony
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bloatedandalone04 · 8 months
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The Only Reason
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➪the one where leon finally gives you some much needed closure after four months of feeling nothing but regret from what he did.
Warnings: angst, fluff, making out, swearing, mentions of cheating, cheating, toxic relationships, mentions of a bad past, mentions of weight loss, all the ada slander in the world because i actually cannot stand her, mentions of unwanted sexual attention (from ada to leon), unwanted intimacy (from ada to leon), eating disorders (implied)
Word Count: 5.2k | Part 1
Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡
The loud music and thumping of the walls were the last thing on Leon’s mind as he scanned every single room of the house. Chris decided to throw a housewarming party for Claire at her new place, and of course Leon was invited. 
Leon refused the initial invitation, but quickly changed his mind when Chris told him that you would be there. It seemed as though the brunet had long since grown sick of his friend’s moping and knew he had to do something about it. 
Pretty much everyone that Leon knew was here, yet he couldn’t seem to find you. The house wasn’t big, and it didn’t have very many rooms, but it seemed like it was still impossible to locate you. Not that he even had a right to. 
If he does manage to find you, what would he even say? “I’m sorry for everything, and for letting you leave without trying to fight for you. Also, I don’t blame you for ignoring my calls and not texting me back, I deserve that.”
He couldn’t remember the last time he sounded that desperate. Back when he was a dumb twenty one year old, he supposed. 
Leon has been here for over an hour now, and he still hasn’t seen you once. He was beginning to think that Chris lied to him just to get him out of the house he used to share with you. While he wouldn’t put it past him, Leon wanted to give Chris the benefit of the doubt and believe that he had good intentions when he invited him to this thing. 
Nearly giving up on his search, Leon heads back to the kitchen, where Jill hands him a bottle of beer. She leans against the counter and he does the same, his eyes still expertly scanning the room, just in case.  “Hey, Kennedy,” she greets as she sips on her own beer. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Been busy with work?”
Leon shrugs, his face almost emotionless. “Yeah,” he lied. Of course he had been going to work and successfully completing missions, but he hadn’t left the house outside of that. Work usually took up a good portion of his time, and the rest of it was spent thinking about how badly he fucked things up with you. 
It wasn’t even worth it. Ada. 
He hadn’t seen her since he broke off their little agreement a month before he confessed to you, despite her texting him and asking to meet up so he can fuck her in exchange for information he thought was worth more than you. 
It really wasn’t. 
He’s been ignoring her texts for months now, just like how you’ve been ignoring his. 
Leon had never blocked someone’s number ever in his life, but Ada was about to be the first if she didn’t take the hint and leave him the fuck alone. 
As much as he wanted to put all the blame on her, he knew it was half his own fault, as well. He couldn’t believe he had gone back to Ada Wong when he had you, his entire world, waiting for him at home. 
He knew he would never forgive himself, even if you somehow managed to move on and forgive him for the worst mistake he had ever made in his twenty nine years of living. 
Four months. 
It’s been four months and he was still beating himself up for what he did to you. 
“Yeah, Chris and I are looking into this new virus that is spreading down in Oxford. The cases have been going up daily, might be something you can help out with,” she offered, leaning closer to him so he could hear her better over the loud music. “You’re more experienced with viruses than anyone else I know.”
Leon gave her a tight lipped smile. “Sure, Jill,” he replied. “Whatever you need.”
“Great,” she says as she finishes off her beer. “You staying long? I never took you as the party type.”
He really wasn’t. He hadn’t been to a party since he was nineteen. Even the frat parties he was invited to were boring, so he never had the urge to go to anymore after the age of twenty. Until now, because he was told that you would be here. 
And he wanted to see you so badly. 
“I’m not, really,” he agreed and brought the bottle up to his mouth. “I just thought someone I know would be here-”
He wasn’t able to take a sip of the alcohol before his eyes landed on you as soon as you entered the room. 
All words had died on his tongue and the bottle was raised half way before his hand froze. 
You looked beautiful. Your cute white dress fit you well and showed off the concerning amount of weight you had lost. He hadn’t seen you that small since the beginning of your relationship, back when you didn’t know how to take care of yourself and listen to your body’s warnings. 
Leon felt his heart constrict at the thought of you going back to your old ways of ignoring the signs your body tried giving you. You were barely getting by when he met you, and you hadn’t gone completely back to that since leaving him, if your makeup and pretty hair were anything to go by. 
You hadn’t given up on yourself entirely, and that gave him enough hope that you would be okay. Even if he was given the chance to talk to you and explain things, he knew you weren’t completely broken like you were when you first started dating, and that you would be fine if you decided to never forgive him. 
Looking as shy as ever, you inch further into the room, seeming to have not noticed Leon yet as you ventured over to the bottles of booze that had been set out on the counter. “Oh, shit, is that Y/n?” Jill asked as she squinted in your direction. “I didn’t know she was coming, but that pretty much explains why you’re here. Are you okay?” 
Leon watched as you browsed through the drink options, dropping his arm back to his side and not caring about the beer that splashed onto his hand at the quick movement. He didn’t take his eyes off you as he slowly shook his head, a quiet “No,” leaving his mouth afterwards. 
Jill looked between the two of you, unsure of what to say. “Do you want to move to another room?”
Leon shook his head again. “No. You said it yourself, Jill. This is why I’m here,” he muttered and watched as a younger guy moved to stand next to you. He helped you pour a large amount of vodka mixed with ginger ale into a cup, and he quickly recognized the guy as one of the new agents Claire had befriended named Kegan. 
Kegan stepped closer to you and Leon could instantly tell that you were uncomfortable. He knew you like the back of his hand and could tell when you got nervous or anxious, like how you are right now. 
Leon stood up straight and placed the untouched bottle of beer behind him on the counter before making his way across the kitchen. 
Within four strides he is behind you and towering over Kegan, who noticed Leon long before you did. “Kennedy? Leon Kennedy is actually at a party? Wow, never thought I’d see the day,” 
Leon glared at him and it was then when you realized who was standing behind you. “You don’t know me,” Leon stated as you turned to face him, but he just kept his eyes on Kegan. Leon had quite the reputation at work, and he was well known as the guy who is more than capable of completing any mission, no matter how tough it may be. 
That being said, his superiority often annoyed the new guys as they tried to live up to the high expectations and standards of Leon Kennedy. 
“And you don’t know her, but I do, and I know she wants you to leave her alone but is far too nice to actually say that to you, so I’ll do it for her,” Leon continued and felt his heart skip a beat at the quiet gasp that left your lips. 
Kegan looked between you and Leon, and more specifically the protective look in his eyes, before backing away with his hands up. “My bad, man,” he shrugged. “Didn’t realize she was with you.”
He disappeared in the crowd as you turned completely to face your ex. “You didn’t need to do that,” you muttered and Leon could feel his face heat up at the fact that you were actually talking to him. You wore an annoyed look, but still, you’re talking to him. “I could’ve done that myself.”
Leon forced a grin to form on his lips. “But I bet you’re glad I did it, instead,” when you just shook your head and began to leave the kitchen, Leon stepped in front of you, refraining from grabbing your hand like he so desperately wanted to. “Wait, please.”
“What, Leon?” You asked and you sounded so exhausted, it made his heart physically break a bit. “What could you possibly have to say to me right now?”
“Everything,” he answered instantly. “I want to say everything I didn’t say the day you left. Please, give me a chance.”
You narrow your eyes and cross your arms. “It’s been months, Leon,” 
“Four,” he confirmed, watching the brief shock that flashed across your face. “And I’ve thought about you everyday for every one.”  
You give him a conflicted look that is quickly followed by a sigh. “There is nothing you can say that will fix what happened, just so you know,” 
Leon nodded and held his hand out to you, surprise filling him when you actually took it. “I just need you to know that it wasn’t your fault, and that it’s all on me,” he promised as he led you towards the front door, missing Chris’ look of relief as he passed him.
While he didn’t know the full story of what his friend did to you, he knew Ada had been involved in the reason you were no longer together. Chris was never a fan of Ada and how she treated Leon whenever the two crossed paths, and he was sure the blond felt the same way after being her little pet for years. He was sure the two of you would end up getting married, so he could not fathom how the fuck Leon had let Ada get in the way of what you and he had. 
All in all, he was sick of Leon’s bad moods, and wanted his friend to go back to normal. Well, as normal as Leon Kennedy could be. 
Leon led you out onto the front porch, and with one look from him, the two guys who were standing out there quickly scampered back into the house. Once you were alone, he turned back to face you with guilty eyes, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to figure out what to say to you. 
He had wanted the chance to talk to you again for months, and now that you are actually here in front of him he was blanking. 
But he wouldn’t let his inability to form a proper sentence be what cost him his once chance at explaining to you why he did what he did.
An apology would be a good place to start, right?
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly as he finally allowed himself to look into your guarded eyes. You looked at him as if he were a stranger, and he supposed he kind of is now. The person you both thought he was would’ve never done what he did to you, no matter how important those fucking files were. “I’m a fucking idiot.”
You nod and lean back against the railing, crossing your arms as you stare at him with a soft glare. “I’m really glad we agree on that,”
He knew he deserved that. He deserved worse, actually, but you were simply too kind to completely go off on him, and he simply never deserved you in the first place. “That’s fair, you’re being hostile,” he mumbled and felt his skin begin to heat up under his dark leather jacket. “I know I have no right to even be talking to you right now, but I just need you to know that what I did with Ada was the worst thing I have ever done, and I’ve done a lot of bad shit in my life. None of them cost me you, though, so they’re not very high on that list.” 
You tense up at the name you’ve hated since the second you heard it, and the mention of her sent your insecurities right back to the front of your mind. “Yeah, well,” you trail off, kicking a stone that was on the porch away from you as you avoid his stare. “I hope she was worth it, because I haven’t been able to wrap my head around the fact that Ada fucking Wong is the reason the best relationship I had ever been in ended.”
“She wasn’t worth it,” he said instantly, taking a cautious step towards you. “She was never worth it, even back when I was a stupid twenty one year old and trying to start my career. She never cared, and I wasn’t smart enough to see that. I’m not smart at all. If I had half a brain I would’ve never gone back to her ever again.” 
You shake your head. “You can say that now, but it doesn’t change anything,” you mumbled. “You cheated on me with the one person I’ve been worried about since day one. You promised me that she was in your past, and that you were over her. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to believe that. Guess we’re both fucking dumb.”
“No,” he said sternly. “You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met. Ada hasn’t had control over my heart for a long time now, it’s always been you. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the day we met, and that was years ago. I know I fucked up, but I’ve never stopped believing that you’re it for me. I don’t want anyone else, and that was clear after I met you.”
Your lip was quivering just slightly and you blinked back tears, trying to stick to your promise of never crying over the man in front of you ever again. You weren’t sure how much longer you could keep that promise if you were to continue to talk to him. “Then why did you do it? Why did you ruin what we had?” You regretfully ask and quickly add, “And I want the truth, not some bullshit story you always seem to come up with. Be honest with me, Leon.”
Leon really felt pathetic at this point as he felt his heart jump a bit at the fact that you said his name. He missed you so much, he missed hearing your voice, and he missed the way his name sounded when it came out of your mouth. 
He knew his answer wouldn’t satisfy you at all, but he said it anyway, “It was just about work,”
“Oh, don’t give me that,” you say angrily, wiping under your eyes before he could see your tears. “Don’t waste anymore of my time, Leon. I refuse to spend another second with you if you’re just going to lie to me. You’ve done that enough.”
Leon shut up after that, shifting from one foot to the other and beginning to feel anxious. He shouldn’t feel this way around you. He had known you for four years and been with you for three, he should feel comfortable around you, but he supposed he lost that right, too. 
At his lack of words, you turn away and are about to head back inside when he grabs your wrist and pulls you away from the door. “Y/n, wait,” he begs, blue eyes clouding over with desperation as he stares hopelessly down at you. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. There are no words that could ever describe it. I hate that I hurt you and I hate that I fucked up the best thing I had going for me. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.”
You fell silent as your eyes flickered from his lips then back to his eyes. 
What if….for just one more night…what if.
“I should’ve never let you walk out that day without explaining to you that it was all my fault, just like how I should’ve never let Ada come anywhere near me. But I’m weak,” he was saying all the words he should have said to you the day he confessed that he had been seeing Ada. God, even her name made a feeling of disgust creep into his bones. “I’ve always been weak when it comes to you and my job and everything. I’m not cut out for this kind of thing, but you made me feel like I was. I can’t believe I took that for granted.” 
Your eyes burned once again and you moved to lean back against the railing when he inched closer.
“You’re everything to me, sweetheart,” he sounded so genuine, you almost thought you could believe him. He placed his hands on the railing behind you and leaned down so his face was close to yours. “You always will be. She is, by far, the biggest mistake of my life and I promise that I haven’t seen her since. I can’t stand even thinking about her-”
He wasn’t able to finish that sentence as you leaned in and pressed your mouth to his.
Just one more night. 
You just needed one more night with him, one where you could pretend you were still happy and still in love. One where you were still oblivious to the affair he was having with his ex…or whatever the fuck they were. 
Just one more night to fuck him out of your system, then you’ll never have to see him again after this. 
Leon got lost in the feeling of having your lips on his for the first time in months. His hands immediately grip your waist and his body presses right up against your own. 
He missed you more than anything else in the entire world. Every single inch of you, he craved it everyday. He was so fucking angry with himself for how he destroyed your relationship and for how he hurt you after he swore he wouldn’t. After he swore he was different. 
Really, he wasn’t far off from the assholes you had given your heart to in the past, even though he tried so hard to be. 
His fingers bunch up the fabric of your dress and he wanted to take you right there, right against the railing of his friend’s new porch, but you deserved more than that. He wanted to give you more than that. 
Your hands slide up to tangle in his hair and he never thought he’d ever get to feel your soft yet firm touch again. He couldn’t help but melt into it. 
Your lower back pressed against the cool metal and the contrast of it had you gasping against his mouth. 
Leon groaned at your quiet sound of pleasure and couldn’t deny how it went straight to his dick. Sometimes he really hated being a man who had no control over that part of his body. “Missed that sound,” he mumbled against your mouth. “Missed everything about you, pretty girl.” 
You moan into his mouth and he swallows it like the greedy man he is. “Take me home, Leon,”
It was like a switch had been flipped. He pulled away but kept his hands on your hips. Now that he had gotten a taste of you again, he never wanted to let you go. But he needed to focus on why he sought you out tonight. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he trails off, noting the brief look of embarrassment that flashed in your eyes. “I don’t want you to think that this is all I wanted out of-”
“I want it, Leon,” you cut him off, pulling him closer by his jacket. “I want you. I know you don’t want me anymore, but-”
He shook his head and pressed another kiss to your lips, against his better judgment. “I do still want you, baby,” he promised. “I want you, always.”
You bite down on your lip and don’t miss the way his eyes flicker downwards when you do so. “Then take me home,” you pressed, watching as he seems to have an inner battle with himself. 
You weren’t sure what result you wanted out of this; him agreeing and getting you off one last time, or him rejecting you of what he so gladly took from Ada. 
 Either way would provide you with some closure, you’d hope. 
A few more seconds pass before he’s moving away and taking your hand. He leads you to his car and drives the familiar road to the house you lived in with him not too long ago. 
As he guided you through the very door you walked out of the day he told you what he did, he gave you a conflicted look as he said, “Just so you know, this isn’t all I want from you. I meant everything I said before,”
You give him a blank look as you move closer to him. “I don’t care,” 
Leon looked like he was in agony as you grabbed his jacket and pulled it from his body. “Don’t say that,” he begged. “Please.”
You don’t say anything else as you pull on his hands and walk backwards until your knees hit the edge of the couch. Sitting on the armrest, you run your fingers down his toned chest and try to remember that this will be a one time thing. He wasn’t yours and this wouldn’t be like all the other times you and he had been intimate. 
“I don’t want to talk anymore,” you whisper, grabbing his wrist and guiding his hand to your chest. “So please, don’t say anything else.”
Leon could only nod, regret filling him at what he knew he made run through your head. You thought this was all he wanted, when in reality he just wanted you back. 
He leaned down and gently grabbed either side of your face as he kissed you deeply, pushing you back against the very couch you broke up with him on four fucking months ago. 
It was too much, but he couldn’t stop. He was too afraid you’d leave him forever if he did. He really was fucking weak when it came to you. He was selfish. 
He wanted you back so badly, his brain couldn’t keep up with his body. His lips were placing kisses desperately to your mouth as he felt your legs wrap around his waist. 
Leon wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to function again if you were to never talk to him after this. He didn’t even want to think about it. 
But it seemed as if you were doing the opposite. 
He kissed along your neck for a few seconds before hearing a sharp intake from you that was followed by the push of your hands against his shoulders. “Wait,” you nearly gasp, sitting up when he instantly pulls away from you, proving to you that he is at least a little better than your past boyfriends. They would have ignored you and continued touching you until they got what they wanted. 
Leon stood back and put a bit of distance between the two of you, his eyes guilty and his heart on his sleeve. “I’m sorry,” he says and you just shake your head, straightening your dress back out. 
“No, I initiated this. I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into me,” you apologize and stand up. “I should go. This was a mistake.” 
Leon felt his heart break as you quickly stood up and made your way to the door. He got flashbacks to the day you left him, and he knew he wasn’t prepared to see you walk out that door for the second time. 
Maybe he didn’t have to.  
You passed by the counter and abruptly stopped, your eyes fixated on something on the granite. Leon held his breath as he watched you move towards the island, your hand reaching out to grab his keys. “Leon,” you gasped quietly, your fingers gently moving something on the chain. He knew what was on it. The ring haunted him every time he used his keys, and that was the exact reason why he attached it to the chain in the first place. 
He stayed still when you turned to look back at him, his keys held tightly in your hand.
“You kept it?” You asked in a hoarse voice. You would recognize that ring anywhere, even after only seeing it one time. You couldn’t believe he kept it instead of selling it, and you were heartbroken to discover that he saw it every day whenever he entered or left his house. 
Your question offended him, but he’d never show it. “Of course I kept it,” and yet another flashback flickered in his head. 
You weren’t sure you wanted the answer, but you asked, anyway, “Why?”
Leon hardly moved as he answered, “As a reminder,” 
And it was the truth. 
And then you broke your promise as the first of many tears began to fall. 
You wished you never met him. Never said yes when he asked you out on a date, said no when he asked you to move in. You wished you didn’t agree to come to that stupid housewarming party, because now you felt lost all over again. 
Setting the keys loudly on the counter, you turn to face him fully. “Why?” You asked, your voice angry and shaky as you tried to keep your cool. “Why did you do it? I loved you more than anything else. You saved my life, Leon. Why didn’t that mean anything to you?”
Leon felt his own eyes burn as he stepped away from the couch but made no move to walk over to you. “It means the world to me, Y/n,” he promised, his heart begging his body to take you into his arms, but he held back. “So do you.”
Your lower lip trembled as you moved to stand in front of him. “Why?” You ask again, much quieter this time around. You reach up and push on his chest just slightly, knowing damn well it wouldn’t faze him one bit. And it didn’t. “Why did you go to her?”
Leon refrained from taking your hands that were still on his chest in his. “Because she had something I needed,” he regretfully answered. 
Your brows furrow and he knew he accidentally offended you with his poor choice of words. “What, I wasn’t good enough? Didn’t put out enough for you?”
“No,” he said immediately, going against his better judgment again and wrapping his fingers around your wrists. “You’re more than enough for me. You always have been and you will be forever. The thought of doing that with her made me sick and I hate myself for it, but it was the only way she would give me the information I needed for my job.”
Your eyes softened a bit but your whole body was still guarded. “Your job you can’t tell me anything about?” 
“Yes,” he whispered, his face twisting up in agony when more tears fell from your eyes. “That’s the only reason I went to her. She had something I needed, but if I ever had to do it all over again, I’d tell her to fuck off and I’d get it some other way. I can’t stand the fact that I hurt you like that.”
You tried to process his words, but you didn’t know what to think anymore. 
You believed him, and it was clear he felt awful about all that came out of his encounters with Ada. But you also weren’t sure what he wanted out of this encounter with you. Yeah, it appeared he wanted to fix things, but who’s to say he won’t shatter your heart again? 
You couldn’t take much more. You knew that. 
“It was just for work?” You asked quietly, avoiding his eyes as he pressed your hand flat against his chest. “You’re not in love with her?”
“No,” he said quickly, shaking his head to further get the point across. “No. I don’t love her, not anymore. Maybe I never did. She never made me feel the things you did and still do. My heart was never hers. It’s yours. Even after tonight, I’ll still be yours, even if you aren’t mine.”
Your eyes were begging for a break, but the tears kept coming. “My heart is yours, Leon. It’s yours to break,” you whisper. “And you did.”
He couldn’t stop himself from taking you into his arms. He wrapped you up and let out a sigh of relief when you let him, and even held onto his waist. “I’m so fucking sorry,” he says, kissing the side of your head. “So fucking sorry. I swear, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I’d use my last breath for you, baby. You’re my entire world. You’re everything.”
“Leon,” you beg, bunching his shirt up in your fists. “Don’t do this to me again. Don’t hurt me again, I-....I can’t take it.”
“I won’t,” he promised, cradling the back of your head in his hand as if you were the most frail and fragile thing in the world. “I love you so much. It’s you who I want for the rest of my life. I never doubted that. I never want you to doubt that.”
You nod and press your head to his chest. “It’s going to take some time,” you begin, your voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe a lot of time-”
“I’ll wait forever for you,” he swore, leaning back and pressing a kiss to your forehead. He was shaking now, disbelief filling his entire being at the fact that you were letting him hold you like this again. 
You look over at his keys before meeting his eyes again. “I won’t forget about what you did, Leon,” you murmur, watching the guilt seep back into his blue orbs. “But I’m willing to forgive….I just need time.”
Leon nodded, wrapping you back up in his arms. “I’ll give you all the time you need, I promise,” he rasps. “Just don’t leave me again.”
He had no right asking you that, but he also had no control over his words at this point. 
But you just pressed your lips to the side of his neck. “Don’t give me another reason to,”
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lazywriters-blog · 3 years
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Yandere scenarios [modern AU]
Includes childe, zhongli, diluc. More to come later..
Warning: May contain triggering content, mentions of kidnapping, implied violence, yandere content. This is purely for entertainment purposes only.
Kinda edited. Apologies for any errors.
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𝓒𝓱𝓲𝓵𝓭𝓮 /𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓪
His family wants him to get married soon, he understands their intentions, but he just wants to enjoy his life and obviously his rebellious statement doesn't go unheard. So they decide it was time to take matters into their own hands, gradually, he starts meeting new peoples, forced to attend weddings with his family, he doesn't particularly mind going to marriages but he does grow tired, in one of these weddings, he meets you. After he successfully managed to escape the deadly clutches of his family and roam around awfully bored by himself, he stumbles across you. Standing with your sister he assumes, smiling and laughing, not caring how boring the event was like himself. For whatever reason, he is interested, very interested. While following you around, he manages to retrieve your name. Hmm maybe his family could help him out.
He lets his parents know that he has taken a liking to someone, of course being as delighted as they were, immediately agreed to ask your hand in marriage, he watches you as his parents and yours speak, his siblings busy clinging to him, he could see how awestruck your sister seemed by the cuteness of his adorable siblings. Too busy calling them over to play, to notice your discomfort. He likes your shyness.
The unfair advantage he gets is delightful. His parents are anything but determined to get you by his side, eventually he knows where you live, how you behave, your unique habits. He takes sick pleasure in seeing your thinly veiled uneasiness, you should be pleased to know he has taken such a huge liking to you, if anything he rejected almost every girl he met. You are a exception.
When he comes to know you rejected him, he can't help but laugh, he's not marrying anyone other than you, he's made that much clear to his parents, he's not giving up on you. Whilst his parents try to persuade him into meeting another woman who is more willing to marry him, he makes it so she hates him, he's done worse than this, this shouldn't cause any trouble.
Clawing his way into your life, he comes to know how many proposals you've had, how many are interested in making you their wife, it truly makes him angry, he likes a good chase, he likes the thrill, so he's gonna enjoy taking down every last one of them. Then you won't have a reason to reject him again. He's going to be the only one you can accept.
Because there's not going to be anyone else left.
"I knew the moment I saw you we were destined to be! You don't believe me? Then how come everyone other than me remain to take your hand and pledge life long loyalty to you? Surely, that's enough proof, is it not?"
𝓩𝓱𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓵𝓲
He works hard for the both of you. His pure little angel, his beautiful wife. His day is instantly brightened when he comes back home from a strenuous day, to see you dressed beautifully, giving him a smile that sends his heart beating and easing his nerves. He truly loves you.
He loves it when you look at him that way, fondly watching him as the both of you sit together to have a peaceful meal, he feels content to know you've come around, those dark days are behind you now, you've become his beautiful spouse, now forever destined to be together till the time comes for your death and his. He's happy to know that his affects weren't in vain, his hardwork has comes to fruition. He can't be more happier than now.
Expect.. now you've become a little.. spiteful.
Have you come to know of his ways? Or are you simply attempting to test him? He knows what he did was for the best, he is aware that you might not understand, but he knows better. You are quite naive, he likes that about you, now when he says it, it is not in the purpose of shaming you, he wants you to know that you simply too fragile to face the world alone, you need him. He is more than happy to aid.
Hugs are a little hard from you, recently, you have managed to leave the house without so much as his consent, he remembers telling you to stay put when he's not around, however, you've rebelled and decided not to heed his word. He's forgiving though, mistakes happen, he just hope's you learn your lesson.
When he comes home, there's no smile, you don't greet him the way you used to, he figures that you are just having one of those days, where you are moody, where you don't feel like doing anything. He trys his best to understand your womanly needs, he does his hardest to adjust for a while. If only your behaviour didn't worsen, he wouldn't have.. extended your time kept in solitary confinement, he needs you to know that your questionable behaviour isn't welcomed.
No matter your struggles or shouts, he will always be there, to make you understand that everything he's doing is to ensure the relationship between you and him isn't threatened.
"How are you feeling now dear? Much better I hope."
𝓓𝓲𝓵𝓾𝓬
Lovely eyes, silky hairs and a timid facade. You smile more often than you are awake, you struggle not when he snakes this arm around your waist, deep in dreamland, peacefully unaware. You softly giggle as he traces his finger across your face, his heart skips a beat, rapidly picking up the pace. You are so much more accepting when you are asleep. You don't react violently. You make such faint sounds while you are slumbering, he can't quite describe how it makes him feel. Your lips are much more tempting. He will not make any moves that might ensure your violent reactions, he must keep his feelings under check.
When sleep does not willing come, he ends up watching you instead, which.. some might find it to be creepy, including yourself, but you don't have to know. Your skin is soft against his fingers, he finds this.. sensation to be quite pleasant.
Perhaps, slipping a sleeping pill into your drink might not be the solution towards your submissiveness, but he.. almost prefers this.
Almost as if you had felt his intentions, you turned away, leaving him to his own thoughts, of course you weren't submissive enough, at least not yet, he knows he shouldn't force it out of you, he can not remain patient forever, he has his limit just as you.
He wonders how long can he suppress this.. unhealthy thoughts.?
He really hopes you can forgive him, because he is going to do something that he knows he's going to regret soon.
"Now open your mouth, I need to get going soon. Don't worry I'll be back before you wake up, what do you mean you don't want it? Dear we've discussed this before.. you are not going to escape like the last time. In order to make sure that doesn't happen, I need to do this. You get it don't you?"
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itsclydebitches · 2 years
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Hi there, @goblinmatriarch! Welcome to Tumblr! :D
For the record it’s completely within the norms to comment on posts—that’s what the feature is there for! I’m currently making a new post because 1. Tumblr doesn’t allow you to comment through sideblogs (which mine technically is) which makes it super confusing when the same person is using two different usernames for a conversation and 2. I’m... very long-winded 😅
But I love chatting about shows and I’m currently obsessed with Ted Lasso, so!! Feel free to ignore this if you want (seriously, I know I write entire essays there is no pressure to respond), I just love throwing thoughts out into the void.
I’m really glad I’m not the only one who felt weird about the whole Rebecca/Sam plot-line. Not that it happened, necessarily, but that the show has treated it as this cutesy romance when, as you say, dating the far younger adult that you have some kind of power over is a very Rupert move. I think it would be easier to overlook the show not engaging with the romance’s questionable aspects if it were anyone but Rebecca in the relationship. Her experiences bring a certain perspective to all this that, frankly, the show needs to comment on to make the story-line “good” imo. Granted, there are some pretty key differences between her/Sam and Rupert/Bex—Rebecca isn’t cheating on anyone, Sam isn’t a means of getting back at Rupert, there’s no marriage, no child, no intentional power difference: “What’s hers will be mine and what’s mine will be… well, still mine”—but if the show wants to continue treating them as a healthy item, I think it needs to actually grapple with some of this. Let someone point out the problems here and have Rebecca either give in to her initial reservations that dating him is a mistake, or successfully refute why this is a different situation than what she’s gone through, one whose potential downsides don’t outweigh the happiness they’ve found together. Just something other than all her friends and family treating it like sexy fun times and nothing else.
Omg Nate. Istg I’ve thought about his journey at least once a day since I caught up lol. I’m doing a re-watch too, though I haven’t reached season two yet (so my thoughts might change when I do), but I’m currently really interested in what “success” means here. I agree that under normal circumstances you can’t expect to promote someone from kit man to coach with little guidance and expect things to go well—even though Keeley arguably works as a counter example, going from “famous for almost being famous” to PR Manager—but in this case I don’t think Ted expected Nate to be a coach who knows how to manage people. He expected Nate to do the thing he’s good at: coming up with strategies.
For me, this circles all the way back to the initial dynamic that we see between Ted and Beard. Ted is meant to look completely inept when he first arrives and that’s achieved largely by emphasizing his lack of knowledge about football. As you say, open a book, Ted! But the thing is, Ted has a “book” with him 24/7: the encyclopedic Beard. Why does Ted need to know every rule of the game when the man beside him knows that already? Of course, I think it’s important that Beard’s knowledge doesn’t mean that Ted doesn’t bother to try. The whole first episode is filled with him learning terminology (pitch, gaffer, training instead of practice) and there are other moments that imply he’s continually working on his own understanding of the game. I’m not sure where to find the quote again so I’m doing this by memory, but I think he says something about still not understanding the offside rule when he confronts the ref during a game, with the “still” implying that Ted has tried to learn all this, it just doesn’t come easily to him (and boy, is that personally relatable as someone with non-contextualized learning disabilities). So he’s not good at the technicalities of the game. Ted knows that about himself. What does he do? He co-coaches with someone who is excellent at that—Beard. Beard, in turn, is not much of a people person; he often resorts to enigmatic nods, shouting, or tough-love approaches that, on their own, could do far more harm than good. So what does he do? He co-coaches with someone who is excellent at managing and inspiring people—Ted.
It's important that they’re a balanced duo. It’s important that the coach they’re replacing, the one Rebecca fires in the first episode, appears to be working solo and has produced only “profound mediocrity” for years. Personally, I’ve read a lot of this dynamic as a commentary on individualism and the expectation that any one person can (or should) shoulder all the work, even when they are, technically speaking, the boss of the group. The “Lasso Way” isn’t just believing in people and putting their growth over wins or loses (or ties), it’s using a collaborative coaching style where no one person is expected to succeed in all areas. They should absolutely work to improve themselves (Ted slowly learning terminology at his own pace), but isn’t it better to bring in someone who succeeds where you tend to fail, rather than trying to shoulder it alone and, inevitably, achieving less than you would have with help? Ted needs a technical perspective, so he brings Beard with him. Then, they realize that they need someone who is skilled at coming up with strategies, so they bring in Nate. Then they realize the benefit of having someone who has actually played the game their whole life and possesses a perspective from the other side of the pitch, so they bring in Roy.
Nate was never meant to be someone who learned how to coach in all the ways that Ted coaches (or Beard, or Roy), he was supposed to fill a particular niche that he’s already skilled at. I think we see this same work with the Diamond Dogs where they “coach” their friends through personal problems. Ted’s sarcastic optimism won’t work on its own. Higgins’ and Nate’s straightforward questions about “Are you exclusive? Have you already had sex?” won���t work on their own. Beard’s tough love of “Grow up and get over it” won’t work on its own (he’s only “bringing it home”). But put it all together—find that balance—and you’ve got a situation where Roy can return to Keeley and admit that he loves her more than he hates Jamie. Personally, I don’t think the problem was ever Ted failing to teach Nate how to manage people like he does (especially when we see the team already responding positively to Nate post-bullying. He’d already earned their love and respect, he just couldn’t see it), but rather the problem lies in Nate’s concept of coaching as a solo act. Basically, the scene where he talks about how Ted will steal all the credit, ignoring Beard and Roy’s metaphor of socialist trees working in harmony to share sunlight. Nate is so insecure that he’s unable to take pride in a 1/4th role, instead seeing himself as the only reason why the team succeeds. And yeah, his strategies have had a big impact, no question, but I don’t think they’d mean anything without the culture Ted has developed. No one on this team would have successfully implemented those ideas if they still hated each other. In turn, Ted never would have developed the drive to win if Beard hadn’t forced him to recognize that a professional sport is more than just a feel-good ‘You tried your best’ situation. The creation of the Richmond team we currently know is a result of all their work, but Nate only sees his strategies — the flashy wins in public, not the subtle work behind the scenes — as mattering. From his perspective then, if he’s only getting 1/4th of that credit when he should get it all, he’s being “cheated” and “abandoned.”
Basically, Ted’s approach to coaching is this:
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Nate’s is this:
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Success isn’t one individual pouring all their knowledge, advice, and tips into another individual so they can go off and solo a team too; success is creating a team within the team where each individual brings something important to the table, balancing one another out.
Nate can’t accept the core idea of them all sharing everything they produce—success and defeat. And of course, that’s wrapped up in his deeper insecurities and anger at his father. I made a comparison in another meta to Rebecca helping Ted after his first panic attack. Could she theoretically have done more for him? Sure, but nothing was going to get better until Ted sought professional help and worked through his underlying problems (as we saw). I think it’s the same with Nate. Could Ted have done more for him? Sure, but without the kind of help a professional can give him, Nate was always going to head down this road. The second season in particular is filled with moments where Nate’s friends help him in the kind of surface level way that Rebecca helps Ted by calming him down and offering to walk him home: here’s a jersey to celebrate you, this is how you can make yourself feel powerful in private, here’s a pep talk about going for what you want, etc. But without tackling the warped thinking that’s coloring Nate’s perspective, it all gets twisted into something harmful (an insult, spitting at the mirror, ‘permission’ to kiss Keeley). The fact that Nate sees Ted not having his picture in a public space as a slight—not even considering that he might have it at home next to his son—just highlights that nothing Ted could have done would have fixed this. Everything Ted does, his success and his mistakes (of which there are plenty), becomes more fuel for Nate’s pessimistic outlook. Plus, quite obviously, Ted can’t give him support 24/7, or keep twitter from being cruel, or make Nate’s father acknowledge him. Nate can’t control any of that either, so he needs to learn how to control his own responses to them instead. He needs the wonderful Dr. Fieldstone, not a mentor/friend. Or, to quote Ted and Rebecca before Ted overcame his fear of therapy:
Rebecca: Why pay someone to do what a friend should do for you for free?
Ted: Exactly. I mean, that's why you have friends, isn't it? To burden them with your issues and anxieties, right?
Rebecca: Right. Yeah. Yeah. Speaking of, you got anything you wanna get off your chest?
Ted: No. You?
Rebecca: No. See, there you have it.
Ted: Exactly. Yeah, okay. See you later, boss. 
Whatever mistakes Ted did or didn’t make in regards to promoting Nate are ultimately inconsequential against Nate’s need for professional help. Ted can’t be the friend Nate dumps all his anxieties and issues on, even though that’s precisely what he tried to do. Nate has not yet grown in the way Ted has by moving from this conversation in S2E2 to asking Sharon for an appointment, running away, coming back, and finally starting the hard work of unpacking his father’s suicide.
But I so, so hope Nate gets that arc 😭
God okay I’ve blathered on so long I’m sorry but ANYWAY Trent is absolutely crushing on Ted and even if the show decides he’s not I will very politely be all
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Also thank you for the offer of fic recs! … though I’ve probably read them all by now LOL. Not literally all of them, but damn close considering we’ve only got about 13 pages on AO3. But that’s a lot given the amount of content in the show?? I’m so proud of the fandom, look at us go. I’m writing a fic myself now (with about 20 more ideas waiting in the notebook), but it’s slow going because I can’t write fiction nearly as fast as I churn out excited meta thoughts. Please know that I’m crazy impressed by 25k and I’m gonna have virtual party poppers ready for the day we break 300 fics 🎉
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hueningshaped · 3 years
Text
★ good friend | k.sy
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▰ genre: implied spice/nsfw but barely angst AND fluff, the classic
▰ word count: 2476 hhhh
▰ synopsis / request #1: fwb to lovers! soonyoung since this idea has actually been on my mind before the ask came in (also HOORAY ASK :D) hehe
▰ possible warnings :: mentions of sex and vomiting and food
▰ notes: im lame also tmi but ive never had experienced anything romantic in my life so i tell u this - i am not good with romance and im not sure how any of this stuff is supposed to go so ur ever bewildered at what i postulate, u are not alone lmfao. i hope this isn’t too bad and i hope what i write in general isn’t too rough
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Most nights offered the same routine and have offered the same routine for the past few months: nights of mottled yet complete love marks ridden upon your very feverish skin, long abandoned clothes of your weekly activities, and sweet and overwhelmed sounds that were evoked from pleasure that lasted hours. However, the fulfillment of satisfaction could no longer be quelled as the filaments of your heart now yearned for something more.
And while Kwon Soonyoung did you no wrong directly, only the knowing that there was nothing more besides sex despite your growing feelings furthered an irreversible damage that rested in your hands alone.
The reality was that you weren’t his and he wasn’t yours. It would never be that way. You and he had agreed to it, but now, the guilt and pain blossomed like a bruise in your soul. Your heart always hurt afterwards and beforehand.
Just two days had passed since the last time you allotted another rendezvous with Soonyoung and he had messaged you again. Of course, upon seeing that text, which you received during your lunch at work, you soon lost appetite and utilized the rest of your break to weep into your bag in the restroom.
The meetups with him did you no good as they had frequented and seemingly were no longer just for sex.
Soonyoung learned your body and the things that made your body pleasured and joyous. He’d walk in early to bring you your favorite snacks. Sometimes, he would greet with a kiss on your nose or cheek.
When your limbs were tangled and you were at his mercy, Soonyoung would plant kisses all across the expanse of your neck and chest. On more occasions than you can count, the love marks he’d left have been often uncountable. With each passing meeting, his lips journeyed to your own, swollen and bitten raw by the time you’ve both finished. Sex was more than sex; it became that way before you even understood. He held and touched you in the way one cherished and love someone else.
Soonyoung brought forth so much joy, laughter, albeit cries from pleasure, but you were now unable to continue.
Your friendship with him was something priceless and a treasure. For you to risk that and the one thing that nearly convinced you that you were more than that would be foolish. The shift from simple friends to friends with benefits had only began due to a joke. Nearly a year had passed and you often regret trespassing the fine line of friendship and more than that.
Good friend Soonyoung also wasn’t foolish; he knew you and knew how you could be when you didn’t want to be you at times because you were precious to him. He knew this much.
Pretending his message had never been glossed over twenty three times, you managed to get on with your day, ignoring the dropping of your stomach, the sooner the clock moved closer to the time you were set to return to your apartment, which Soonyoung also knew.
And Good Friend Soonyoung was good, indeed.
SOON(YO)UNG: y/n
SOON(YO)UNG: are you busy tonihgt bc i need you
SOON(YO)UNG: if not i understand but i still wanan be with you
SOON(YO)UNG: i might not be good at this whole technology thing but i hope u do know ur read receotps are on
Soonyoung had a way with words; Not only at times where you needed comfort but also during those when you were at the edge, legitimately clutching to his shoulders for mercy to his wicked moves.
You felt yourself losing more grip and composure of reality as you sped home, having forgotten which days he actually did have practice. Was it everyday? Would he be at your place before you knew it? Were you a good liar? Was this the first time you were so open about postponing your boning? Were you even open about everything?
Contrast to last week, your meetups and reality with Soonyoung were as they had been for the past few months: frequent, intimate as always, but as more time passed, he was nearly inseparable from you.
Soonyoung was more than enough of a single person than you realized. He’d always been by your side for years and the things he did proved that. He always went above and beyond to made sure you felt good, comfortable, confident, and healthy. The kisses he left on your shoulder, bruises from his grip on your waist, aftercare of sweet touches and whispers, dedication of feeding you whatever he thought or tried to cook were just a fragment of what he did for you and of what he meant for you.
Not to mention he knew how to read you so well it hurt. Soonyoung could understand the light of your eyes; the light in his own eyes were effervescent, embers glowing with the lights of places wherever he entered, and they were never cold to you, the best of all.
But he would never be yours and you would never be his.
Luckily, upon your return to your place, you discovered that Soonyoung was not home before you, after silently screaming and double checking each and every possible place any person could have been.
He indeed would be at practice today, hopefully, but painfully wrong, you thought that maybe he would be too exhausted to even think of coming here.
There was the factual prospect of Soonyoung entering as he had his own key; however, his entrances were never outside of your consent or comfort, nor were they all strictly for sex. He was your best friend, who you had mingled with the territorial line that keeps platonic from sexual relationships.
Confronting the boy you had dreadfully fallen for was last on your list; your body told you so. Oh, it had no trouble letting you know of the conflict within your heart, perspiration, and clamminess.
All things came to a heading stop — in the midst of you tidying up your living room to keep your thoughts and stresses at bay — when a knock resonated. A bouquet of flurries within the pit of your stomach sent the broom in your hands over, whipping about the surfaces of the area you were in.
So much for ever trying to take the “not home” excuse. Clumsy hands.
“Y/N, is it okay if I come in?” Even the ginger edge to his voice offered no cloying confection — a sharp intake of breath drew past your raw-bitten lips. He was sweet as always.
Despite the fact he now was present and, on top of that, knew of your fabricated absence or intentional silence, confrontation with Soonyoung was just about inevitable. The flurries in your stomach now equated to the punch of an avalanche with endless swirls that even hijacked the means of your vision.
Could the end of your friendship await on the other side of the door?
“Darling, won’t you open up? Not the door, heh. I... to me... Are you okay?” The final question loosened the ivory pronunciation of your knuckles against the wringing of your shirt’s hem. There was nothing more visceral or internal that surpassed the knowledge of Soonyoung’s proximity and love to you.
How you just wanted the kisses Soonyoung messily left across the edges of your skin, the goosebumps and crimson flushes in his plump lips’ wake to be because of love and not strictly from the other way.
“Soon...” you stammered, a familiar stinging threatening behind your eyes.
“If you don’t want me to come in, then this is it. You don’t have to force yourself,” a somber tone shadowed his words, which left you perplexed but all the more conflicted. Only the thicket of steel and wood separated you, but you could still successfully make out that loving voice of his. “If you want to talk, I’m right here. I’m literally right here — your neighbors keep giving me the side eye, so lovedoll, open the door if you’re ready so we can talk. If not, I’ll understand.”
An answer, even a mustered, broken out noise from the depths of your throat, would have sufficed, except the swirl of your stomach returned full blow, barreling you straight to the toilet.
“I’m sorry I — ” you all but yelped to the front door.
Esophagus stretching and lungs flushing, you knew well what was coming. Words were cut short before the terribly familiar, pungent acid pounded out of your mouth in spurts and nearly imprecisely in the bathroom.
Nausea was your body’s coping mechanism for much stress: just the cherry on top.
Tears peeked at the brims of your eyes. The burn of your throat was just about the peak of your overstimulation. On top of that, you wanted nothing more than to things be right, even if it meant giving Soonyoung up. And oh, how that pain would leave this minor, minor, minor one in the blink of an eye.
A set of footsteps neared you, just as you finally were reaching for something to wipe your mouth off.
“You could’ve just said you were sick, sweet Y/N,” he sighed and you sniffled, continuing your ministrations. Confessing a possible unrequited love here was not ideal, but it would be worth a shot...if you could even speak. “Here I was fearing the worst: imagining a horror film scenario, since, you know, one of the idiots, namely Channie, decided to have a marathon the other — Y/N?”
As you moved to sit back on your sprawled and folded knees, your eyes trained upwards: a position and person you could remember by muscle memory at the least. That silly grin of his slowly dissolved into a concerned clutch of his lips, eyes roaming past that of your own eyes.
Your heart was nearly leaping before the machinations of your head could compute exactly you wanted to say. The silence was shared by your staring contest and your ventilation system that constantly busted up.
No words were said — from you, really. Confessing your love was much harder than it looked.
With the help of Soonyoung, you were eventually put to rest, after an entire system of learned routines that followed familiar episodes of your countless seasons of your friendship.
You let him choose what to watch, which he did not hesitate to execute to his choosing. His warmth was no different, he knew this. Enveloped in his lap, your feet trembled at the same rate as your hidden fingers did.
“Do you want me to make you some herbal tea?” He chimed, flipping through the cast list of whatever show that currently caught his eye. The slant of his eyes desperately deserved a kiss.
“You don’t know how to make tea,” you stated, earning the gaze that weighed tons. He pouted comically. His cheeks still possessed a flush from earlier practice, where you’d seen first hand how he dominated the room and led the others, allowing them to shine with his practice and ministrations.
“Soonyoung, you know I get sick like this. It happens occasionally.” His eyes had trained back to the screen until you let the final word escape your mouth, shocked at the chuckle rattling his voice and shoulders.
Those constellations met your eyes again: a nebulous light that could have had your knees buckling had you been standing.
“Occasionally? You get sick when you’re nervous or angry, which, for that part, is a kinda funny rarity — but I know you, Y/N,” he let your name ripple off his lips, the equivalent of having shared the most fragrant and delicate fruit between your very lips. “Why are you nervous?”
The lump in your throat throbbed, leaving you with something more than a twisted tongue. Good Friend Soonyoung was good indeed.
He leaned down to close the proximity between you more and more, taking a strip of loose hair and curling it around his finger before swooping in like a hawk. His brisk scent enveloped you, of musk and some other herb of a lotion you had purchased for him from a Christmas gift just a few months back. Soonyoung brought the hair to his lips, as your own merely parted at the proximity, quite possibly electrifying the amorous feelings even more so. 
A gasp was all you could muster last until he was nose to nose with you, lips just a hair away. 
“Why do I make you nervous?” He spoke lowly. You could barely meet his eyes. He planted a shallow kiss on the corner of your mouth until warm streams trailed from the corner of your eyes and of course, he cupped your face.
Concern furrowed upon his expression. He was no longer kissing you, and you were no longer poker faced, a sob billowing from the depths of your throat.
“What’s wrong?” And of course, you cried more at that. So much for not letting him know your feelings.
“Y/N,” he implored softly. His arm was perched beside your head where you laid and he now moved back so you could sit up at the slightest, or to at least where you were able to since you were now sobbing.
“I love you, Soonyoung. I love you,” each word left more emphatic with a gasp for air in between. His face dropped and his hand retracted from your chin. You did your best to silence yourself, pursing your lips. “I'm sorry. That-that’s why I've been avoiding you and I know I’m full of crap for making it look like anything else, and I know I’m ruining everything we’ve ever had, but I just couldn't...couldn’t live like this.”
Nearly out of breath from your speech, your eyes fell to his hands, which rested on your blanketed feet. 
“We had a great friendship. I’m—”
“Hey,” Soonyoung called out emphatically, earning eye contact that could have seared your soul. That same hand returned and again, your jaw dropped slightly. “Why did you assume I didn’t love you?”
His velvety mouth curled with a soft smile and his thumb rubbed your past tears into your cheek. 
“I love you, Y/N. You’re just silly enough to convince yourself of the opposite,” with that, a popping kiss planted on your lips. “And this is also why you should talk to me about anything. Remember when we tried a different position and I thought you were crying about how it hurt, but you just felt—”
“Okay, okay,” you laughed with a sniffle as he rested his chin on your sternum, grinning, “so, you’re in love with me as I am with you?”
Soonyoung nodded hard enough to jolt a new yearning within you. Needless to say, he would spend the entire night proving it.
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waatermelon-sugaar · 3 years
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Annual General Meeting
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Gif by @santigarcia
Pairing = Nathan x reader
Words = 1.7k
Summary = Nathan gets jealous at Blue Book’s AGM
Warnings = none I think
A/N =  Prompt no.74 requested by @mariesackler as part of my 300 follower celebration, thanks so much, hope you like it! Prompt was  “Are you really that jealous?” “You don’t even know how you make me feel.” w/ Nathan and bolded in text
this was kinda inspired by the fact that I’ve been to two AGM’s in as many weeks, and they are very boring. Only ever been to online ones, but I can’t imagine they’re much better in real life lol.
Posted to AO3
Masterlist
***
AGM’s are never fun.
Blue Book attempted to make it more fun (read: successfully made it worse) by having a ball afterwards, giving everyone a chance to relax and properly mingle. The last thing you ever wanted to do after a long boring day of listening to talks, was dress up nicely and talk to boring people about even more boring topics.
Networking wasn’t an instinct that came naturally to you, but you forced yourself to socialise at these events, well aware that this is where the most important people in the tech industry gathered, all on this one night.
Including Nathan Bateman.
You’d met him a couple of years ago, at this exact AGM. It had been your first time representing your company Aardvark on such a large scale, and you had, to put it politely, been bricking yourself.
You hadn’t known who Nathan was at first, mistaking him for someone else who didn’t know anyone in a room full of these big names. You’d gone up to the balcony that ringed the edge of the room for a break, needing a moment before you could compose yourself enough that you could bear even thinking about going back.
You recognised him from the conference earlier that day, having noticed him at the back of the room when you’d gone up to speak on Aardvark’s fiances, not paying a lick of attention to what you, or anyone else had to say, his fingers moving furiously over his phone.
“Enjoying the view?” You hadn’t expected him to speak, both of you occupying separate spaces.
“What?” You didn’t really want to talk to him, but you could see him wanting to come closer, tucking his phone away.
“I always think you can learn more about people’s intentions from up here.” He’s leaning on the rail, while you sit, decidedly not people-watching.
And yet, you get up, arranging your dress to stand next to him. “See him?” The stranger points at an older gentleman with an impressive white beard. “That’s Alfred. He really wants Felix, who’s standing to his left, to charm Nelson, because they want to start a joint venture between the two companies, but Nelson’s under strict orders to make no promises.”
You watch the three men talking for a moment, watching as Felix laughs more when Nelson speaks, and turn to the stranger next to you. “And here I was under the impression that you were jealous of his beard.”
The laugh he lets out is surprised and he looks at you. “What’s your name?” He asks.
You tell him, and the two of you shake hands. “Nathan.” He introduces himself. That should have been your first warning, but you still didn’t connect the dots.
You never ended up going back downstairs that night, instead staying with Nathan as he entertained you on all the reasons why Nelson would never accept the joint venture terms from Felix. You learned about Olivia, and how she’s recently asked for a promotion at her old company, only for them to say no, and how Blue Book has snapped her up with a promotion and a raise. “She’s good.” Is all Nathan would say on it.
It wasn’t until the next morning that you wondered how Nathan had known all of that, waking up to a stream of texts from him, when cold realisation slid down your back.
You could only stare in shock at your phone. Why hadn’t you realised last night? You couldn’t even blame it on alcohol.
And what started as texts also turned into the occasional facetime, when you couldn’t articulate your point well enough or fast enough via type.
And then you looked forward to the next AGM, and the one after, hoping that maybe this year you’ll be brave enough to make your move on Nathan.
Normally you’d spend the beginning of the evening talking to as many people as you could, so your managing director would hear that you’d attended, before taking the first opportunity to escape to the balcony, where you and Nathan could pass comments and scathing judgments on those down below.
“I hope Felix gathers up the courage to ask Olivia out one day.”
“Maybe tonight’ll be the night.” The two of you watch as Felix and Olivia make their way over to the bar, chattering and laughing. Olivia touches Felix’s arm as she laughs, slightly over the top. You’ve talked to Felix before, and he’s not that funny.
You keep scanning the crowd, looking for Alfred, gasping a little too loud when you catch sight of him. “Nathan!”
The speed he turns his attention to you would be flattering if you weren’t so distracted, groaning theatrically. “He’s shaved!”
Nathan turns to where you’re looking, catching sight of the distinctly younger-looking, clean-shaven Alfred. “That was my idea.” He’s so smug.
You hit him in the chest, not hard enough to hurt. “No you didn’t.”
“I so did. I may have casually put some prompts in front of him that implied that a beard is not in fashion anymore.”
“So you’ve just proved the point I’ve made for all these years,” you say, “You have been jealous of his beard.”
He opens his mouth to say something, but - “Sorry to interrupt.” It’s Nelson. “Would you like to dance?” He asks, holding out a hand to you.
Figuring you can’t say no without seeming rude, and hoping you maybe get a free drink out of it, you accept, hand brushing against Nathan’s in a silent apology as you leave.
Nelson’s nice enough, looking only a couple of years younger than you. As you follow him downstairs you briefly entertain the idea of going home with him at the end of the night. You know you could. You always have more confidence with people you’re not actually interested in.  
However, you’ve never fully appreciated just how boring he is. Despite your best attempts all he wants to talk about is his business and Blue Book, and Nathan. Whose eyes you can feel burning a hole in your back throughout the whole dance.
At the end of the song, he gets you a drink, which you accept, before politely excusing yourself, feigning tiredness. You might actually fall asleep if you spend any longer in his presence.
You catch Nathan on his way downstairs, scowling. “Are you alright?”
“I’m going.” Was he this brusque before? “Do you still want me to walk you back to your hotel?”
You eye him up. Do you? He doesn’t look to be in the best mood. But then this is Nathan, who you won’t see until next year, so you say yes, dumping your free drink and grabbing your coat from the cloakroom on the way out.
Nathan’s unusually quiet on the way back, and a sneaking suspicion starts to appear. Suddenly your retelling of your dance with Nelson is shown in a much more flattering light way, the kind way he bought you a drink, and- “If you enjoyed dancing with that idiot so much, why didn’t you stay there with him?”
You stop walking, surprised, but pleased at his reaction. “Are you really that jealous?”
He just huffs. “I don’t get jealous.”
“No?” You raise an eyebrow as the two of you stand in the middle of the pavement under a streetlight. “You gonna tell me what all this is really about then?”
The two of you stare at each other for a moment, silent aside from the occasional car. You can’t tell what he’s thinking, eyes hidden in the shadows of his face.
You walk the rest of the way in silence, suddenly feeling much more alone. You’re not great at picking up hints but you’d have to blind to miss this one. Because he is jealous. That’s an undeniable fact. But he doesn’t want to say anything - why?
You stop, just outside the light spilling from your hotel lobby. “Nathan!” He doesn’t look at you, instead reaching for his phone in his pocket. You step closer to him, holding his wrist by his waist, forcing his phone to stay at his side.
“You don’t know how you make me feel, do you?” You’re trying to look at his face, trying to read him as best you can in the darkness, but he doesn’t want to see it. “Nathan, look at me. Really.” You sound desperate, but you don’t care. “Just. Look at me.”
So he does. His eyes are analytical, his face the way he looks when the two of you peer over the balcony. And he sees the dress you’re wearing, in a colour he’d once said was his favourite on you.
How soft your hand is on his wrist, still gripping him tightly as though you’re scared he’ll run. As he looks at you, your breath speeds up a little, hitching slightly in your throat. Your lips are slightly parted, and your eyes keep flicking between his eyes and lips. Your free hand is fluttering at your side like you want to touch him, and your body is leaning towards him.
Hesitantly, he puts his free hand on your waist, and you step closer to him. His eyes are still scanning your face. Has he really never seen you in this way before?
“Nathan…” His name is a whisper, but your heads are so close now. “What are you doing?” It’s a warning for him as his eyes desperately move across your body, his shortening in his chest.
When he speaks, his voice is lower than normal. “I never even dared imagine that…” He stops himself too soon, and looks away.
You put your hand on his cheek, bringing his gaze back to you. “What?” Your voice is soft, you don’t want to scare him away. You’re suddenly very conscious that Nathan has never before talked about an ex-anything with you, and you hate your brain for dropping that one on you now.
“You’re interested … like that … in me?”
You kiss him.
It’s soft, on the lips for a couple of seconds before stepping away, letting go of him.
You’re suddenly shy and you don’t know why. “Does that answer your question?”
Had it been lighter, you would have seen the blush rising on Nathan’s cheeks before he kisses you this time, keener and more insistent, his hand returning to your waist, while yours moves to his shoulder.
You take him up to your hotel room, and teach him what you really like.
***
Thanks for reading! Reblogs and comments mean the world to me 🥰🥰🥰
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theodora3022 · 4 years
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Too Trusting (Yandere Ciel Phantomhive X F!reader)
Summary: You picked up a half-dead young man from a dark alley, tended to his wounds  with your nurse skills. However, you did not expect his way of paying his debts.
Notes: So this is a Ciel counterpart of this by @animeyanderelover First time writing for Black butler so hopefully this do not turn out to be too OOC.
Ciel is aged up in this, so no pedophilia haha.
Word count:3.1k(I went overboard oops, a sequal is already taking space up in my mind but whatever), long read with caution
Trigger Warning(s): Gore, drugging, implied dub-con, stalking
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Stars glistening behind thin clouds, while the silver moon watches over midnight London carefully. 
You yawn and stretch your stiff limbs as you walk out the hospital hall. It has been a long night, though not many patients, the slow hours from afternoon to midnight is nothing less then torture. 
You know what you were getting into when you took up studying nursing, but you still cannot chase away this sensation of annoyance. The walk back to your family’s manor is usually peaceful, as it is through a well-to-do neighbourhood of the city. But you still stay on your guard as you lower your hood cape and hurried along. Under ideal circumstances, you would have a carriage for commute, but your noble yet impoverished family could only live a modest life even though your father holds the title of Count. As a result you grown to be independent, cleaned your own room, dressed yourself,  enough to become a hard-working nurse instead of a proper noble maiden.
You were unsure of your eyes when you noticed a trail of blood prints leading towards a dark alleyway. Judging by the traces, it means the person, or the thing is still nearby as they are fresh. Should you follow this? What if it is a criminal? But your care for this person’s health got the best of you. With this amount of blood loss, the wounds can be fatal if not given proper medical care. Whoever they are, you cannot just walk away and forget all about them, as it is against your conscience.
A young man dressed in fine suits is not what you expected, although you imagined that suit would look better if not soaked crimson, it seems that he has been shot by guns, the bullet wholes are the proofs. This is no good, you thought as you observe the pool of blood forming underneath him. He needs treatment right away. Although the gunshots are not on his vital parts, such as heart or brain, the blood loss from arteries would drain his life quickly.
“Sir? Can you hear me?” Crouching down, you made a close-up examination of his condition. Unconscious and pale, it seems he had dragged his way into his dark back alley with all those bullet shots. Putting some simple bandages over his wounds, you scoop his slim form up and hurried out of that place.
It feels like a long, feverish dream for Ciel, being carried as he senses the bullets still present in his flesh.
He woke up staring towards your bedroom ceiling. It is morning already, where is Sebastian? Noticing the unfamiliar scenery, Ciel quickly reaches for his right eye, relieved to feel that his eyepatch is still intact.
With a crack of the door, you walked in with a teacup in hand. “I see that you’re awake, I was expecting you to be in coma a bit longer.” Although you are a bit offended by the young man’s cold and evaluating gaze, you still put the cup of warm water on the nightstand.
Instead of taking a sip at the liquid, he asked questions. So demanding, fitting for a young noble.
“Where am I?” “The (family name) manor, do not worry, my parents would not be home until later this week.” Brining a man home while your parents are away, how scandalous, yet you know the laundry maid and the cleaning maid knows to keep their mouths shut. “I advise you to not trying to move too intensively at present, your wounds are still healing.” Pouring yourself a cup, you took a seat on the long sofa next to him. That is where you doze off last night, where the wounded man took your bed. Today is supposed to be your day off, you planned to use it to catch up on sleep, but now it is all ruined thanks to mister mystery on your bed here.
The (family name) family? Ciel vaguely recalls reading about this name before. This house of Counts used to be quite influential in the days of the Queen’s grandfather, George III, and the regency era, but now they are nothing more then minor nobles. Still, he cannot fandom how a lady like you had saved him from that bloody mess. 
Looking down to his abdomen, Ciel can see he had received medical attention from you. Now that he has been saved from the reaper’s collection, Ciel knows the best thing to do is calling for his loyal butler. However, he must find a way to repay his debts you. You did save his life, after all.
“How long was I unconscious?” “Only for a couple of hours. May I have your name, Sir?”
He knew he should hide his identity, even from you. The less people knowing that the Queen’s guard dog was almost successfully assassinated last night, the better. But as if his lips have a mind of its own, Ciel let it slip out. “Ciel.” Good thing he managed to hold the word after.
Ciel, the French word for sky. Suitable for his eye color. “Well, pleasure to meet you Sir Ciel, I am (y/n). You might have guessed I am a noble but spare me the court protocols. Right now I am nothing but a humble nurse.” Now you have a chance to look at Ciel properly, he is actually quite handsome with those delicate features. Silky blue-black hair paired with peacock blue eyes, although one of them is covered by an eyepatch. You were tempted to pry when he was still out but choose not to as it could bring horrific consequences. Noblity can be so cruel, you do not want to get dragged into their mess further.
“I thank you, for coming to my aid.” Ciel lowering his upper body forward, attempt to bow as best as he could in his current state.
“It was nothing, really. Please be careful, Sir Ciel. Your wounds are sealed, but vigorous movement can still open them up.” Your knotted brow amuses him, how can you act so nonchalantly when receiving gratitude form Lord Phantomhive himself? You are a peculiar one indeed. Brining a stranger home and patching him up, while you know nothing of his identity or intentions. How very naïve of you. Guess there no harm in trusting you for a bit. If you want him dead you could have just left him in that damp alleyway.
Taking a sip of the teacup you prepared for him, the Earl frowned at the plain taste. But he drank all of it, nonetheless. Being subjected to tea for so long, he finds water dull and it leaves a foul taste in his mouth. It would have to suffice for now. “My butler would be here soon; would you mind opening the windows?”
Baffled by this odd request, you still drew away the curtains and let the morning sunshine in the room. Seeing you bathed in sunlight had made Ciel feel a certain something. He is startled by this strange sensation, how it made him blush and lose composure. The Earl had never been very sociable person since childhood, so the only female he frequently spend time with is his fiancée Elizabeth. One could say the fairer sex is foreign territory to this man. Ciel is used to being around Elizabeth, out of duty as she is his future bride. But he never felt this warm feeling when he is with her. You might not be a beauty by popular standards, but there is just something about you that made him want to... maybe it is your caring gaze, or your easygoing attitude, Ciel is not sure which one to pick.
“Excuse me, young lady, do you mind telling me how serious my lord’s injuries are?” You jumped back, frightened by the sudden appearance of the tall man on your window ledge. This is two stories high; how did he get up here? No wonder why Ciel wants you to open the windows.
“Sebastian, you frightened her.” The young man scolded the butler, who merely bowed and apologized for the intrusion. You begin describing his bullet wounds in great detail, even showing him the aftermaths: the bullets you took out before on a plate. But you soon found yourself staring up into the butler’s gorgeous eyes, and you started stuttering. Those eyes are like swirling tornadoes, drawing you close every minute. Although Sir Ciel is already an attractive lad, his butler seems to be on whole new level.
Usually when women were swooning over Sabastian, Ciel would find it irritating but simply ignore the interaction, as it could be used to their advantage. But seeing your starring eyes fixated on the tall man in black, a bunch of...jealousy hit in in the head. You saved him; he is supposed to be the one you are looking after! Why are you so focused on that demon? Taking notes of his young master’s angry signs: how Ciel bit his underlip, Sabastian knows he had gone too far with you.
“Sabastian, carry me back home, that is an order.” He spitted out the sentance rather harshly.
You snapped out of your funny state, approving his actions: “If you must move, it is the best if someone carry you. Sir Sabastian, do you need me to call you a carriage?”
“No need, Miss. My lord and I would be on our way now, thank you for your assistance.” Within two seconds, they both disappeared from the room, as if they were never there. You shook your head, cleaning up the teacup and the messy quilts, wondering how you are supposed to return that blood-stained suit jacket that still lies in the laundry bin downstairs.
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The Earl Phantomhive is now back to his study, reading a report about you.
“May I ask you why this young lady had peaked your interests?” That smirk on Sabastian’s lips successfully irritated Ciel’s short temper. Scowling at him, he tried to explain how he only wants to properly thank you on saving his life. “I never like owning debts, but I do repay them. What is that smirk for, Sabastian? Are you teasing me?”
“Why, how could I milord. I do not have the courage to mock my master.” After giving him a warning look, Ciel returns to his paperwork, setting your files aside. But unfortunately his mind starts to wonder.
 What would it be like, to have your hands messaging his shoulder when they are sore from work? Those hands that pulled him from death not so long ago. No, no. He has to stop. Ciel Phantomhive already has a fiancée, and even though he had no romantic feelings for Elizabeth, it is not proper to just daydream about another lady in such salacious manners.
Even so, Ciel needs to make you do not face any dreadful consequences because of him. Many people want him dead; he simply cannot allow you to be affected by his foolishness. A precious person like deserves to be protected and cherished. 
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Labelling your strange encounter with Sir Ciel as a notable but past event, you carried on your daily duties per usual. Your parents did not suspect a thing as you took care of all traces of Ciel, you still work those awful full night shifts. That suit jacket is cleansed, folded neatly in your bottom drawer, as a reminder of Ciel and his handsome butler is not a fever dream.
While browsing the London news during afternoon tea, you glance at the gossip column and find how Lord Phantomhive had broke off his engagement with little lady Midford. You pay it no particular mind, as you were barely involved in high society due to your family’s declining status. Gossips such as these does not bother you a bit. You placed the newspaper back to its proper shelve, finishing the biscuits as you thought about how you should get out of this state of unease.
Maybe you are just losing your sanity from night shifts, but ever since that day Ciel appear in your life, you have this constant feel of being watched everywhere. In your bedroom, in the hospital halls or in the streets, no matter where. No matter how hard you searched, there is nobody. Even though you sense no malicious intent, it still worries you and kept you up at nights. Your parents are worried about your ever-growing dark circles, but you just brush it off as side effects of your job.
“Really, dear, you shouldn’t overwork yourself.” The Countess, also your mother said at the dinner table one night. “The household can still run without your overtime pay; you know.”
You nod silently, pretending to be having trouble dissecting the salmon filet. Working is a way to help your parents pay for the ever-expensive bills of this manor, as well as your insurance of not being sold on the marriage market by your devious uncle, who brought suitors to every family party. How he said: “Your family might not be what it used to be, but a son of a wealthy merchant can change that!” disgusts you so. Those men disgust you also. All they want is that Count title, as you are the only child, your family title would go to you.      
“You got mail, milady.” Your washer maid presents the latest postage to you. Ah, is it the pay checks?
When you held the white envelope in your hands, you could not believe your eyes; The scarlet wax seal is engraved with the crest of a dog, representing the Phantomhive family. What could the Earl possibly want with you? Although you are a nobleman’s daughter, you never acted like one and you lived a middle-class life. The only distinction being the family tree and your blood. Knowing your worth, you did not assume naively how the earl must have want your hand in marriage, even if he recently broke off his engagement. Your status of a backwater noble is too insignificant for him to notice, so why did you receive this letter?
It indicates the Lord wants you to join him for dinner tomorrow night, which made your stomach churns. Your table manners are not the best, as your parents do not care for such things. Along with the letter there is a package containing a fine black dress, its velvet material surely feels expensive. What did you do to attract such attention from the Queen’s guard dog? You simply cannot fathom why, never at once Ciel came to your mind. You initially wanted to turn down the invitation, but your father said it would reflect poorly on the family. You accepted it, not wanting to put your parents in trouble. This must be a mistake, you thought. I am not qualified to be some lady, all I wanted is to help people in the infirmary.
The dress fits you perfectly, as if it is tailored by the finest in London. A shiver climbs down your spine as you thought about how he obtained your measurements. All you have to do is smile, eat whatever, and he will get bored of you in no time, right?
No.
When you were greeted by that devilishly handsome butler again, you were so relieved. This is just Ciel inviting you to dinner, to show his gratitude! There is nothing to be concerned about.
Ciel not like himself from few weeks ago at all. You can tell that he is trying whatever strategy to make you feel comfortable, even telling you to forget about stiffy table manners if you like. Hm, how unusual, as you heard before the Earl is found of strict etiquette and protocols. But having seen him in a fragile state before, you never once suspected his true intention.
Ciel is mad. Not at just anyone, but at his loyal servant, Sebastian.
How dare he drawn your attention away, how dare he makes you giggle like a fool, how dare he make you smile like that. Doesn’t the demon know you will soon belong to his master from all those investigations? It is bad behaviour for a servant.
“Were you listening, (y/n)?” Ciel suddenly stops in the middle of a description on his company’s latest candies.
“I-I’m sorry Lord Phantomhive, it is just...” You lower your head to apologize, but he seems less then pleased.
“Sabastian, leave the room now.” “As you wish, young master.”
 After the butler backout of the dining room, leaving the two of you alone, Ciel’s expression completely changed. But you are a bit preoccupied by your dizziness. Why did your head feel so heavy all of a sudden? Have you caught a chill? Standing up from the chair, you courtesies to your host: “Thank you, Lord Phantomhive for this delicious dinner. I am feeling rather unwell, so I am afraid I must take my leave.” You almost lost your balance because of your vertigo, only caught the chair for support at the last moment.
Thin, but strong long fingers grabbed your wrist, forcing you to sit down beside him. “Oh no, my dear. I think you are exactly where you need to be.”
His...dear? What can he possibly mean by that? There are certainly many other suitable noble ladies available to him, why?
However, your mind starting to become cloudy, as you can no longer form coherent thoughts. Seeing you in such hazy state, a sinister smile forms on his lips, as he pulls your body into his embrace, slowly stroking your hair as you black out. Feeling you had been forced into a dreamless sleep, Ciel knows he had succeeded, as always. To be honest with himself, Ciel did abuse your trust, by seasoning your steak a little differently, but it is your fault for being so trusting of someone you only met once. Ciel had won this game, now he would gladly take the prize to the new bedroom he so thoughtfully prepared for you. You are going to love it, including his series of plans. The title of Lady Phantomhive suits a sweet person like you impeccably.
He had thought about this long and hard, and he came to a conclusion of the best way to repay you is to offer you a position you cannot possibly refuse.  The position of Lady Phantomhive. He even upsetted Elizabeth for this! It should qualify as a decent compensation. Should you ever think it is not suitable, your parents would be a good place to start negotiating. You wouldn’t want anythnig happening to them, don’t you?
Now that Ciel understand how it is like to “love” someone romantically, he swears he is going to try his best to make you comfortable with him in this new home. Your presence would lighten the grim mood of this manor greatly. Easily swooping your unconscious body up bridal style, Ciel begin to walk up the grand staircase, towards the bedrooms. Maybe the manor could return to its former glory in the near future, with a happily married couple and their adorable little brats. He could have a family again! Doesn’t that sound just lovely?
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lyeekha · 3 years
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In the mirror he could see Ernest stood behind him, tie tucked safely into his vest, sleeves rolled up and a towel slung over one shoulder. He had ushered Lemony to a seat with a headrest, politely remaining in eyeline and not making any surreptitious-looking movements. He had removed his suit jacket and pointed out that, really, you needed to be topless for this, and Lemony had said oh yes, of course, as if this had slipped his mind instead of caused him to hesitate, and taken off his shirt, and nobody had made a fuss about it, and he had actually relaxed, and now Ernest was rubbing something into his neck that smelt... incredible. It smelt of summer.
The manager was obviously skilled, that hadn't been a lie. His palms worked the oil across his flesh with just the right firmness and friction to make his skin tingle. His fingertips pressed confidently into the exact hollows that made him hum with appreciation. He wanted more than anything to drift off and allow himself to be looked after, but Lemony was still playing the game. He had to be. As casually as possible, he watched Ernest's reflection. The man seemed totally absorbed in his work. In fact, Ernest looked more peaceful than he had ever seen him before. The enigmatic smile didn't seem as forced, though still impenetrable. A slight, strange frown of concentration was on his brow. Something ancient stirred in the back of Lemony's mind. He could believe that this was a genuine pleasure for Ernest, no matter what other motives were in play. The attraction of a simple, intimate, uncomplicated, repetitive task. Lemony cleared his throat and summoned a more jovial tone.
Thank you!!! (Pick a passage or comic chapter of mine for commentary)
this ones from Double Edged so, spoilers for that. sorry if its too much and maybe incomprehensible i just wrote everything i thought in a stream
The idea of rival spies in a truce having an unspoken etiquette about making sure the other person can see what they’re doing clearly at all times really amused me and also seemed like a natural progression for people who just, Live Like This all the time. Kind of like the body language animals develop to deliberately signal trust and lack of threat? Like when cats do the long blink or prey animals make a big show of laying down near you. Of course then you have it as a reassuring gesture, and that gesture being false, and I’ve set myself up for the whole rest of the thing to be about successfully and realistically (enough) distracting Lemony without him noticing.
Humans are the animals that do this too, of course. it is the same thing as normal body language just made more pointed. I have Ernest as having complete control over his body language and complete observation of everyone elses, in a Derren Brown type reading/manipulation style.
I like slipping dialogue into the narration here because it cuts out a lot of stuff that’s boring to read and skips a bit of time by having Lemony reflect on things that have just happened. the whole thing is in past tense but this is like, a few minutes further past tense than everything else. Means I can just put the pertinent things. Also it was very important for this bit to happen very fast so that you get his POV sense of being swept along with ‘naturally unfolding’ events. It buries the fact that Ernest now has possession of Lemony’s jacket by making the second half of that sentence much more engaging and interesting looking and easy to move on to - which is exactly what Ernest is doing by saying something distracting as he performs the natural gesture. It’s all about giving the reader the same experience as Lemony, that’s the goal for this one.
Lem is a bit nervous about taking clothes off - which is reasonable, actually - but also he’s a bit precious about it in general because of a lifetime habit of showing skin equalling danger (tattoo) and being vulnerable (without disguise or situation-appropriate clothing). I’m thinking of socks and the symbolic importance of clothes in atwq, the reliance on the disguise kit forever, the scene-appropriate netflix outfits to blend in all the time. That’s whats canon anyway - this all also contributes to my headcanon of trans Lemony, and I made sure to imply top surgery scars in the illustration. Again, vital to remember that its Lem’s POV (even though it’s not in first person), so ‘nobody made a fuss about it’ both tells you his relief that no comment about his body (whether salacious or surprise or mockery) was made and cements that he was nervous in the first place. 
Of course Ernest wouldnt say anything, or even visibly react at all. He is a practiced expert of the service industry.
This is also in contrast with Jacques, who has complete confidence in showing skin. Lem feigning absent-mindedness to disguise hesitation feeds into the overall ongoing thing of Lemony trying to be smooth, and I reckon hes’s coping by pulling directly from how he’s seen Jacques act. This whole seductive wiles angle isn’t really Lemony’s scene and his awkward phrasing and justifications in his own thoughts about it reflects this. Pretending to be going along with stuff he can do, but the playful flirty aspect is different and throws him a bit. So its pretty much all from what he knows of J’s playbook. Of course Ernest isn’t fooled by the faux casualness, and Lemony knows he isnt, but its the polite etiquette to go along with face value that makes everyone more comfortable. Lot of that in this fic. 
‘and he had actually relaxed’ the word ‘actually’ implying his surprise as he’d been intending to only pretend to relax - same with ‘that hadn’t been a lie’, as in, well *that* at least was true. Lem is double checking literally everything Ernest says. The fact that he is actually a practiced masseuse sells the idea to Lemony that this is not just a ruse to get his top off or whatever. And at the same time reassures the reader that Lem is not actually being a complete idiot - he is constantly suspicious of everything as always, and remains so throughout
It smelt of summer.... I wanted a feeling more than a specific scent. Its how it makes him feel. He can’t pinpoint it exactly because its too evocative. To me, smelling of summer evokes warm spice and mango. Also, the sudden switch from a factual barrage to slow and conceptual is a strong feeling. 
The fast pacing and then the sudden slow at the end of the paragraph like a sigh. Like the feeling of being swept along and then being a bit bewildered, bit ‘i can’t beleive this is actually happening’, bit ‘how did i get here’, bit proper relaxing. 
Then slow and meandering pacing, to match Ernest’s hands. Palm oil. Flesh Firmness Friction.
Ernest said pointedly earlier that the mirror was for Lemony to watch him, to feel safe. So he is well aware - and is in fact encouraging - that Lemony study his reflection at this point. However, I hope I managed to get a good genuine vibe in here. Ernest enjoys this, and is finding it relaxing. Probably the actual genuine feeling from him is a huge advantage to calming Lemony down, Lem can probably pick up on fakeness very well subconsciously, so the verisimilitude is Ernest’s best weapon. Also, he wants for selfish reasons. He doesn’t get physical contact because of his position, and when he does its not someone that understands why. And Lemony understands him. And he understands Lemony. Better than most on their respective sides do. Lem even acknowledges in his own narration - 'genuine pleasure... no matter what other motives were in play’ - that the truth and the trick are not mutually exclusive. he gets it.
Very intentional focus on enigmatic smile and brow in quick succession, which happens repeated through the story - yes we are invoking Ellington this fic, more quietly at first and then stronger later. A stirring of something ancient, you might say. 
And yes, the mind naturally wanders to other simple, intimate, uncomplicated, repetitive tasks and he has to shut that line of thought down immediately, something Lemony gets increasingly worse at doing as the fic goes on. Shoving words like ‘pleasure’ and ‘stirring’ and that technically accurate description together heavily implies Lem’s growing arousal. Just to really spell that out. Just in case. If it’s missed it would be there subliminally enough im sure.
Thanks for asking and a great choice of section, I havent read this commentary back so here it is have it immediately before i remember what i forgot and edit forever
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bathroom-sand · 4 years
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BBSim: Year of the Rat: Week 1: Episode 1
@bayleighsvote @cirie-sandra-michaela @flopbb-22 @froglegsz @iorivalenti @julieeexcheeen @peterbrownismydaddy @rockstar-its-real-cute @shaolinbynature @whats-bb22 @wheremy--demons--hide
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Welcome to Big Brother! And in true big brother fashion there was many delays, last minute changes, and restarts of a simulation I should’ve been more than capable of starting. Yet I’m not. 
This sim, 12 new houseguests have entered the big brother house, vying for their chance to win half a million dollars and an inch of tumblr clout. Once dismissed, every houseguest is hesitant to enter the house first, all aware of the curse. With everyone lingering by the door, @shaolinbynature finally gets annoyed enough to enter first. Moments later everyone else rushes in.
After relaxing in the lounge playing ice breakers and chatting, they suddenly hear a noise from previously locked door. Four former houseguests appear: @ashleaevans, @bigbroaddict, @brentrobinson, and @remember-caltoru
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The house guests are ushered into the backyard, still wearing the clothes they came in with. The only ones dressed for the occasion are the returning players.
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Suddenly, everyone is taken back to middle school with most houseguests feeling awkward about the pick. None of the returners know the names of the players but try their best.
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@ashleaevans picks first and switches the names of @whats-bb22 and @flopbb-22. in the process, @ashleaevans also pronounces @flopbb-22 as flop-bb22. Not wanting to cause confrontation, @flopbb-22 goes by flop-bb22 the rest of the game.
They dub themselves: Young Dumb and Hot
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@bigbroaddict tries to pick the people she thinks would best serve her in an alliance. She sees a lot potential in @peterbrownismydaddy in particular. Immediately, she regrets her decision to add @julieeexcheeen to the team after @julieeexcheeen makes a tiktok reference. @cirie-sandra-michaela is picked last and feels awkward about being there. Nobody really talks to him.
They create the name: Alls Fair in Love and Big Brother
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@brentrobinson picks everyone he thinks would vote him out, figuring that if they win he’s automatically protected because HOH’s can’t nominate members of their own alliance. In the end he creates a hostile environment where people don’t really want to be there. @rockstar-its-real-cute in particular tries to start a fight immediately but @bayleighsvote and @froglegsz pull him back and rationalize that if they let this get to them then they’re going to get eliminated. They decide to work past this.
@brentrobinson conceeds to the name: The @brentrobinson Sucks Club
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@remember-caltoru tries to figure out who would be good in competitions and picks bathroom-sand (unrelated to the host) and @wheremy--demons--hide. In the end, he is forced to accept @shaolinbynature into the team because there is no one else left to choose from. He tries to play it off as if its intentional but fails. @shaolinbynature is hurt by this and bathroom-sand pulls her aside to talk it over.
They finally decide on the name: Team 4
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The @brentrobinson Sucks Club pulls out the first victory of the season and is thus safe for the next two evictions. They rest easy, although @froglegsz implies that they wished @brentrobinson wasn’t safe. Everyone but @brentrobinson laughs.
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Alls Fair in Love and Big Brother successfully pull out a win in the next competition.
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Team 4 is also able to secure a win. They are relieved to be safe from elimination, but wished they had secured it sooner. They are given 10,000 to split between the 4.
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Young Dumb and Hot are now facing sudden death.
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@iorivalenti swiftly and quickly wins the competition with @flopbb-22 following closely behind. As the two sit and wait,it becomes a moment of do or die for @ashleaevans and @whats-bb22.
It’s neck and neck with @whats-bb22 pulling ahead. @flopbb-22 realizes he doesn’t enjoy being on a season, let alone a team with someone with a similar name. Therefore he begins to create a loud distraction. It throws off @whats-bb22 who then falls behind @ashleaevans. @ashleaevans secures the win.
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His win results in only one thing for sure....
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Sad and hurt by the betrayal of @flopbb-22, @whats-bb22 slowly begins to cry and walks off of the game. @flopbb-22 tries to talk to him but if flipped off as he leaves the game.
With one member down, they are then given the upper hand. The decision to decide which member of their team is going to become the first HOH of the season. The process is swift. @ashleaevans feels indebted to @flopbb-22 after he distracted @whats-bb22, thus securing @ashleaevans spot in the game. It quickly becomes 2v1 with @iorivalenti wanting to be HOH but quickly backing off.
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@flopbb-22 comes out on top and has been declared the first HOH of the season.
The houseguests then go back into the house, shaken up. And for the first time in the game they’re finally allowed to mingle, interact, and form alliances.
Night One: 
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@rockstar-its-real-cute immediately runs around forming final 2 alliances with a small number of people. While he seemingly holds no loyalty to any of them, a few houseguests get the feeling this could be a long term partner in the game.
@rockstar-its-real-cute and @froglegsz have a long talk about being avid big brother fans their whole life. They realize that most of the players are most likely recruits and are dumb. @rockstar-its-real-cute jokingly suggests to make an alliance and @froglegsz takes it seriously. @rockstar-its-real-cute walks away from the conversation realizing the kind of power he wields.
Later on in the same evening, @cirie-sandra-michaela is sulking in the hammock, trying to get some sleep while the other houseguests are inside talking about their dreams. He admits to @rockstar-its-real-cute that he thinks listening to other people’s dreams is boring and @rockstar-its-real-cute agrees. They create an alliance they call The Dream Team. Once again, @cirie-sandra-michaela takes it more seriously.
An hour later @bayleighsvote and @rockstar-its-real-cute have a small disagreement over pineapples on pizza. It gets oddly heated really soon and the two don’t talk the rest of the night. In the morning @bayleighsvote wants to talk it out and discuss what happened, @rockstar-its-real-cute has no interest in doing it but agrees anyways. The two form an alliance, if only as a mutual agreement to not vote the other out. Neither hold strong commitments, but walk away not resenting the other. @rockstar-its-real-cute leaves with no loyalty.
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After her fight with @rockstar-its-real-cute, @bayleighsvote is comforted by bathroom-sand, @flopbb-22, and @shaolinbynature. @bayleighsvote grows a close bond with everyone who comforted her and the four begin to discuss working together.
While @flopbb-22 appears enthusiastic, he’s also the least emotionally involved in it. These are the first people to proposition the HOH and alliance, and feeling suddenly insecure in the game he decides this is his best shot. They call themselves The Final 4, with the intention of getting that far together.
They discuss different targets for the week. No one agrees on anything and hardly knows anybody else’s name to even begin to target anyone. They have a sleepover to celebrate their alliance.
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While @rockstar-its-real-cute and @cirie-sandra-michaela form an alliance in the backyard, @brentrobinson, @iorivalenti, @julieeexcheeen, @peterbrownismydaddy, and @wheremy--demons--hide have a talk in the living room about their weirdest dreams. They do no talk of strategy but when @brentrobinson confides in them that he feels unsafe in the house due to not getting along with the other returners or his team they all begin to discuss their place in the house.
@iorivalenti expresses his concerns over a majority alliance he believes formed without them. He lists off a bunch of names, and while entirely wrong manages to convince the rest its real. This results in them forming an alliance where they assist each other in the game called Divide and Conquer. The goal being to split up the majority through rumors and chaos until they become the new majority. @julieeexcheeen thinks @iorivalenti is dumb and that nothing is going on, but fears that if she speaks up they’ll target her.
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At the same time, @ashleaevans, @bigbroaddict, @remember-caltoru, and @whats-bb22 talk about how boring everyone else on the cast is. @ashleaevans and @bigbroaddict reminisce about how fun their seasons were and how much drama impacted their enjoyment. They convince @remember-caltoru and @whats-bb22 to form an alliance based on drama with the goal being to cause tension and fights.
@remember-caltoru takes this the most seriously while @ashleaevans, @bigbroaddict, and @whats-bb22 knowing that first day alliances rarely go far.
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@iorivalenti has an issue over something controversial that @bigbroaddict did on her original season. This spirals into a fight over how @bigbroaddict was unfairly portrayed by production and that she’s grown as a person. @iorivalenti calls her out on how confusing that statement was. @bigbroaddict flees the season, successful in her mission to shake things up.
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Suspecting of their being alliances, @ashleaevans gets close to a few houseguests in attempt to get them to spill the beans about their alliances. Two people he talks to are @bayleighsvote and @julieeexcheeen. This blows up instantly in his face. @bayleighsvote gets angry, as she’s protective over her alliances and causes a scene, making @ashleaevans back down. The two angry with other moving forward. @julieeexcheeen, despite not being loyal to her alliance, feels played by @ashleaevans after hearing about @bayleighsvote, because she realized he’s doing the same thing to her.
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Third times a try, and when @ashleaevans talks to @wheremy--demons--hide, she gives everything up immediately and invites @ashleaevans to the alliance. The two have a long talk about loyalty, but @ashleaevans finds her endearing and offers to take her under his wing. The two agree to work in secret with @wheremy--demons--hide being allowed to ask any questions or for advice in general.
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After the fight between @bayleighsvote​ and @rockstar-its-real-cute​, bathroom-sand and @bayleighsvote​ bond over being emotional and wearing their heart on their sleeve. They talk about how good they feel about the alliance and agree having each others backs no matter what. They also discuss a vacation when its all over.
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@peterbrownismydaddy​ realizes he recognizes @froglegsz​ from an incident back in 2012, where @froglegsz​ hit him with a car. This brings back old memories as @froglegsz​ apologizes again and claims that she was young then. @peterbrownismydaddy​ claims that’s a dumb excuse and @froglegsz​ takes back their apology and curses @peterbrownismydaddy​ out. They both storm off.
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At the end of the day Final 4 group back up and discuss potential nominations. @shaolinbynature​ brings up that @wheremy--demons--hide​ is forming a lot of close alliances with people because she’s so nice and sweet. She adds that this makes her a good pawn long term but could be potentially dangerous to keep around as she doesn’t want to end up nominated against her. @bayleighsvote​ agrees and talks about seeing her talking to a lot of people.
bathroom-sand offers up @cirie-sandra-michaela​ as another nomination, citing that they did really good in every competition so far, almost winning the first one off the bat.
@flopbb-22​ expresses feeling like his HOH is being controlled by his own alliance and doesn’t know what’s good for his actual game. bathroom-sand asks what he means by that and he doesn’t respond.
The group continue to discuss different nominees with the other three making more of an effort to let @flopbb-22​ talk and come up with names. He appreciates the effort and begins to feel better.
The Next Day:
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@flopbb-22​ explains his reasoning by saying he’s nominated @cirie-sandra-michaela​ because it’s only week one and he doesn’t don’t have a lot to go on. @cirie-sandra-michaela​ made no efforts to really talk to him or include him in his conversations. @flopbb-22​ also respects him as a competitive threat and believe that he could easily win the veto.
@flopbb-22​ adds that @wheremy--demons--hide​ is already a social threat and that he has nothing against her. He then implies that she’s just a pawn and that he isn’t intending on sending her home so early
@wheremy--demons--hide​ begins to cry on the spot and gains sympathy with the house feelings like @flopbb-22​ is being too harsh. He gets upset and leaves to his HOH room, locking the door and refusing to see anyone else the rest of the night.
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Note
If Equius punch me, I will die. This is not an emotional statement, but the énonciation of a simple physical state
Yes. X3 Also I’m gonna put these under a readmore because I woke up to like, 30 messages, and that is far too long for a singlepost. 
Hum. Why.... why is Equius theme sending me SOS in Morse code ? Is it really ? Did I just dream it ? That’s creepy and confusing
I didn’t dream. That’s definitely an sos in Morse code. WTF ?
Oh that’s just part of the theme, I don’t know the backstory behind it but it happens.
Karkat said I was the realest friend ^^
Karkat’s a good buddy!
Awww. He is such and awkward, disgusting, sweaty sweetheart
ASfasfasf- That’s a way to describe Equius!
Oh that’s cute ^^ the first things he want to do once he learn I can teleport is visiting his moiral ^^
If he wasn’t so fucking disgusting, I would actually start liking him. I have conflicted feelings right now
Imagine when you get to Eridan’s route.
WHO IS HE ASSHOLE T POSING AT ME ?!?!?
I am angry now ! If I don’t get to see the moirals reunited, I will scream o\/o
:3c
White text. That’s always bad sign. But on the bright say, since that asshole told me not to skip ahead, that probably mean it will work in Nepeta’s route
Gasp, spoilers.
That was such a sweet ending. Now, for the bad one... let’s roll XD
Gotta love getting the Good Endings first-
I should stop doing time travel. I am obviously very bad at that
Is anyone in Homestuck good at it?
Terezi Time
>:]
Here I am, just jeering on angular glasses like an asshole :)
(Is jeering an actual verb ? I’m pretty sure it is, but I’m not certain of what it actually means. I just like the sonority, and since Caliborn use it, I assume it must be something evil :) )
Jeering is like Cheering, but being a dick about it instead of encouraging. Basically booing someone.
I like terezi because she is the only one among the twelve troll who actually managed to successfully troll (the verb) the kids. She is competent. I like that in a character.
She’s definitely a great character.
Did. Did I FUCKING HUNG HER in the bad ending?
Aaaaand now she’s gone!
Bruh. I’m not surprised that existing is a crime on alternia -_-
It was basically implied already considering Mutants, but it’s good to read the literal laws.
Karkat won’t shut up about Dave, huh :)
Snrk.
Will I remember another friend ?
I did not. I’m sad. I’m even more sad because my cool tired lawyer friend did not manage to change the system from the indside.
:(
Here I am, in a meta textual corridor with a weirdo who eats chalk, talking about our insecurities.
Friendship has its way. And those ways makes no fucking senses
That’s just how it be sometimes.
WHO IS WATCHING MEEEEE
It’s not doc scratch, this bitch wouldn’t know how to T pose. Is it Hussie ? Is it ult dirk ? IS IT MYSELF FROM THE FUTURE ?
We’ll see. :3c
ARE THEY DOING A SMILEY BATTLE ?!?!? They are. They are absolutely doing sad/angry smiley at each other. This is AWSOME.
> : |
: : : : ?
I love it
Ah, the face journeys.
I am right. Terezi is like, my 5th murder lawyer friend
Pfffft. Teals be like that.
Hummmmmmmmm.
Okay. I don’t hate this Vriska anymore. I still strongly dislike her, and she have a lot to make up for, but I don’t hate her.
Vriska prime can go fuck herself, tho.
:::;)
Meh. I don’t like the ending were I get wasted with terezi and Gamzee. Give me game over flashback. Terezi shouldn’t do drugs, ever.
Yeeeep, that’s the intention.
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Benzodiazepine Withdrawal - What Every Doctor Should Know
ome benzodiazepines are widely and successfully used as short-term treatment in certain settings such as for instance in hospitals as pre-medication before operations, for nervous patients before a dental procedure, and in treating some forms of epilepsy and movement disorders. 
They are also utilized in the management of alcohol withdrawal because they work to ease delirium tremens. While many doctors are aware of the dependency and withdrawal issues related for their long-term use, others are still limited in knowledge and may consequently give substandard care, often putting their patients'safety at risk.
These are useful points to be looked at when withdrawing an individual from a benzodiazepine:
Symptoms
When taken long-term (more than four weeks), the in-patient may become dependent on the drug and may experience withdrawal symptoms when it's discontinued. This withdrawal experience is exclusive and symptoms vary according to individual. 
Common physical symptoms include: profuse sweating, headaches, nausea, dizziness, gastric disturbances, palpitations, chills, muscle pain, twitches, spasms and tremors. Psychological symptoms such as for instance feelings of depersonalisation, derealisation, anxiety, panic attacks, nightmares and distorted perception may also be common.
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You can find doctors that are very aware of the and can reassure their patients that the symptoms are indeed withdrawal-related and will disappear once withdrawal is over. Sadly, this isn't always the case and many patients with no pre-existing psychological problems become misdiagnosed and treated for schizophrenia, bipolar and other mental health disorders.
Cold-Turkey
Someone should not be advised to discontinue taking a benzodiazepine abruptly. "Then stop taking it" was the reply of a well-intentioned doctor when I expressed my concern that the drug had lost its efficacy. Fortunately, I found the 
Ashton Manual online (see link below) which recommended a slow taper using diazepam - due to its longer elimination half-life - and surely could successfully wean off. It is surprising that lots of doctors still give this advice and that individuals so often receive frantic emails from people experiencing extremely distressing symptoms as a result. Quitting cold-turkey is dangerous and could cause serious problems including seizures and psychosis.
Tapering
Your decision to withdraw mid hudson addiction recovery ought to be the patient's and she or he must certanly be permitted to taper off the drug at a comfortable pace using the most appropriate weaning process. The more common methods are: substituting with diazepam, titration by crushing the tablet into a dust and mixing it with water, and the direct method where in fact the dosage is quite slowly reduced.
 Factors to be looked at include personal circumstances, overall overall health, the stressors in the patient's life, stamina, support available and previous experience with drugs. It is most critical that the in-patient feels in control of the process. Apart from the usual withdrawal challenges, being pressured into tapering prematurely could cause additional anxiety and hinder recovery.
Benzodiazepines with Antidepressants
It is advised that somebody taking an antidepressant with a benzodiazepine should taper off the benzodiazepine first and then wait (ideally for at the very least three months) before tapering off the antidepressant. Please remember that there is also a discontinuance syndrome or withdrawal effect when quitting antidepressants and so, like benzodiazepines, they must be tapered off under a doctor's supervision.
Duration
The conflicting reports concerning the duration of withdrawal and if protracted withdrawal exists poses one of the biggest problems for patients. Withdrawal can last as short as between 5 and 28 days for those with mild dependencies. However, there are lots of cases where symptoms persist longer - for many months or a couple of years sometimes - and these patients are told the withdrawal period has ended and the problems are "all in the head .
Furthermore, as alternative diagnoses are queried additional emotional energy is expended awaiting diagnostic tests results which usually are negative. When every test is exhausted, the suggestion that the problems are psychogenic in origin and nothing to do with withdrawal is inevitably made. 
This misinformation does not augur well for the unfortunate patients who then become concerned about the implied likelihood of psychological disorders only to locate that the symptoms disappear after the protracted period ends.
Benzo-wise doctors will concur that while many recover inside a six to eighteen-month period, it's not uncommon for a percentage of patients to see symptoms (often interspersed with windows of normality) for 2 to 3 years or longer in rare, unfortunate cases.
Pre-existing Anxiety Myth
Because many patients are prescribed benzodiazepines for anxiety-related issues, the consensus is normally that the post-withdrawal syndrome or any protracted symptoms are in fact due to a resurgence of the pre-existing anxiety. I was prescribed a benzodiazepine for a neuromuscular condition and had no history of anxiety, depression or any other psychological problem. 
The anxiety I experienced especially during acute withdrawal was inconceivable. I also have communicated with others have been prescribed benzos for medical problems and experienced intense organic fear and numerous anxiety-related symptoms. Pre-existing anxiety or not, a nervous system in a hyper-excitable state as a result of down-regulation of GABA receptors can reduce probably the most grounded and stable person to literally a'quivering wreck '.
It is the responsibility of every doctor who prescribes a benzodiazepine to give the in-patient information where the decision to take or not take the drug can be based. When treating patients for anxiety, insomnia or other related conditions, a health care provider might understandably be hesitant and conclude that imparting an excessive amount of information will simply make matters worse. 
However, keeping patients snorting benzos ignorant of the addictive properties of a drug isn't in their finest interest and this really is the explanation for the'unpleasant surprise factor'that presents in the form of withdrawal.
They're only the basics from an ex-patient's perspective. Probably the most comprehensive guide could be the Ashton Manual - Benzodiazepines: How They Work & How To Withdraw which will be compulsory reading for each and every healthcare professional. 
It's additional information on symptoms, tapering schedules, Z drugs which are much like benzos, aftereffects of other medication such as for instance quinolones, and everything required to make sure that an individual withdrawing from a benzodiazepine is given the best possible care.
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mobius-prime · 4 years
Text
231. Sonic the Hedgehog #163
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The Darkest Storm (Part Two): Onset of the Squall
Writer: Ian Flynn Pencils: James Fry Colors: Jason Jensen
So Mammoth Mogul is back. Not only that, he's not restrained by any more Ancient Walker curses, given that the Ancient Walkers are now super dead. The Freedom Fighters, Merlin, and Sir Connery surge forward immediately to attack, but Mogul releases a concentrated blast that knocks half of them out, including Elias, from whom he takes the Crown of Acorns without a word. Meanwhile in New Megaopolis, Eggman is trying to ascertain if the Egg Grapes have been shut down successfully, unaware that Anonymous has used the breach of dimensions to release another key player into all the chaos.
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Ugh, not Naugus again! I gotta say, he's one of my least favorite villains in the comics. M tries to zap him, but, quickly figuring out she's a robot, Naugus freezes her in place with his elemental magic. He informs Eggman that he intends to come back to kill him eventually, but first, he plans to reunite the Sword of Acorns, which the children of Uma Arachnis have so graciously given him, with its counterpart back at Knothole, teleporting away in a flash. But, hey, listen. No one, in all this, ever thinks of the poor folks stuck in jail cells while all the fighting is going on outside. Let's check on Knothole's prisoners, shall we?
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Oop! Things just got a lot crazier. Naugus and Mogul are ready to go at each other, and the Freedom Fighters and their allies get ready to attack the both of them, wanting to get both the sword and the crown back on principle now despite no longer being able to use them to save the Ancient Walkers. Nack, after picking his jaw up off the floor, realizes that this is his chance to escape prison when no one else is looking, and easily squeezes through the bars of his cell. Man, whoever built Knothole Prison is so fired. Nack says that on his way out he plans to "hit the kitchen" and leave his previous weasel allies (from the Sally kidnapping plot) a "gift," which is pretty vague and doesn't seem to mean much until you learn that Ian's intention with this line was to imply that he straight up murders the other weasels during his escape. That's right, kills 'em in cold blood! I don't know what he needed to get from the kitchen to carry out this murder - knives? a heavy pan? a makeshift bomb hastily assembled from a pressure cooker? - but yeah, the guards definitely came back to their posts later on to find three dead-ass weasels lying in pools of their own blood inside the cell. That's… actually super messed up, man. I can see why Ian wanted to leave that line vague.
While the battle rages on in Knothole, with Naugus and Mogul fighting each other while the Freedom Fighters contend with the Destructix, A.D.A.M. lets Eggman know that he's managed to find out who's behind the dimensional breach in his Egg Grape Chamber - Anonymous, of course. But that's not all! Though he still doesn't know Anonymous' true identity, he's found out that none other than M has been collaborating with him! M stutters and tries to deny it, but A.D.A.M. plays a recording of her conspiring with Anonymous - whose form is blanked out on the video, as before, though it does bear a strange resemblance in shape to the original Robotnik - to destroy Eggman and rule in his stead.
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I'm actually kinda sad to see her go. I always kind of liked M as a character, and apparently so did Ian, but Sega forced him to kill her off. It's actually kind of interesting, though, how actually upset Eggman is about all this. I mean, his words ring a little hollow when he's just brought Snively back as his henchman once more, but like, he did literally consider M to be his daughter, if only a twisted facsimile of one. You can tell ordering her to self-destruct actually hurt him on a personal level. As A.D.A.M. sends a cleaning bot to burn M's remains, Eggman mutters to himself Deku-style, thinking through how Naugus seems to have his powers boosted by using the Sword of Acorns. He reasons that if he gets the crown as well he could be a genuine threat, and decides he must go to Knothole and stop him, coming up with a mysterious "contingency plan" at the end of this train of thought…
As Naugus and Mogul continue to magically battle it out, we get our first inkling of the fact that "Ixis" isn't actually a first name. In fact, it's a title - denoting someone who's mastered the "Ixian" magicks of this world. Naugus gloats that he's perfected these magicks with his crystalline powers, but Mogul does the verbose and villainous equivalent of chuckling and saying "cute," claiming to be even more well-versed in Ixian magicks. While the two are distracted with their fighting, Merlin and Sir Connery leap in to try to grab at least one of the Source of All artifacts, but the two see their attack coming and fling them away, with Sonic and Knuckles having to jump in to catch them. However, when they return to earth they find a stunned Naugus questioning Mogul on his claims of knowing Ixian magicks. Mogul smugly explains that thousands of years ago, he studied and perfected magic, eventually founding an order of fellow magicians who followed his teachings. They were all wiped out a very long time ago in a forgotten war against the "Albion Knights of Aurora," but Mogul himself survived, and now informs Naugus of his true name, long since forgotten - Ixis Mogul.
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Well, this whole situation just got a lot worse…
Sonic Riders (Part 1 of 2)
Writer: Ian Flynn Pencils: Tracy Yardley Colors: Josh & Aimee Ray
Already we've come to another one of those weird not-adaptions, this time for Sonic Riders. Unlike the Sonic Rush "adaption," however, this one doesn't have anything even slightly to do with the events of the game - literally the only correlation is the Babylon Rogues and the Extreme Gear being there, and the latter isn't even called Extreme Gear. Jet the Hawk attempts to steal a mechanical part from Eggman's base, but is easily captured by his Egg Pawns and brought back to a cell. Eggman deduces that Jet was planning to use the part to upgrade his board, and Jet replies that things have been hard for him since he left "the Armada" (remember that name for later). Eggman, however, is less upset about Jet's attempted theft than he is impressed that he was traveling as quickly as Sonic on his board, and offers him a deal - namely, that if he goes after Sonic and gives him hell, he'll let him go and forgive the theft. Of course, Jet being the arrogant brat he is, agrees, eager to prove to Sonic that he is in fact the fastest thing alive, and hoping to bring along some friends to help him demonstrate this…
The next day, Sonic is running through the forest after the Freedom Fighters' sensors picked up the approach of intruders, and runs straight into Jet, along with Wave the Swallow and Storm the Albatross. When Jet mockingly shows off how fast he is on his board, and states that he plans to go trash Knothole, Sonic follows, attempting to fight the three of them. However, despite his speed and fighting prowess, he's simply no match for three speedy foes.
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Keep in mind, the game is about Sonic entering an Extreme Gear contest run by Eggman for Chaos Emeralds, and competing against these three along the way. It's a racing game, after all. I realize that given how different this world is something like that can't really easily be replicated, but still, this is vastly different from the game - so different that it feels weird even giving it the name of Sonic Riders. That said, I do appreciate how the art style for this two-parter replicates the unique style of Sonic Riders' art, foregoing traditional shading and inking in favor of the games' trademark diagonal shading and flatter colors. It’s a really cool art style, and interesting to see it integrated into the comic, if only for a couple stories.
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dalekofchaos · 5 years
Text
An analysis of Michael Myers as he's portrayed only in the original Halloween
From reddit user silviod
When we think of Michael Myers, we think of The Shape - standing, staring, white mask and blue overalls. We think of the music, and the relentless pursuit. We think of the iconography of the killer and his permeation into horror and cinema. What we generally don't think of is the human, and that makes sense: John Carpenter has often described him as being 'almost supernatural' and 'a force of nature.' In Halloween itself, released in 1978, Michael Myers' psychiatrist, Dr. Sam Loomis, describes Myers as being "pure and simply evil." He is evil personified, and that is it. But let's get into a bit more detail here, because despite everything, the Michael Myers that we see in the original Halloween has flesh and blood and hair.
Let's just get one thing out of the way straight away: Michael Myers isn't Laurie Strode's brother. This was, of course, a twist invented by the alcohol-infused mind of Carpenter and Hill for the 1981 sequel and has no relevance here. I'm talking specifically about Michael Myers as he's presented in Halloween and Halloween only. So we open with the POV shot of Myers killing his sister Judith. He walks outside and his mask is removed by his parents - he's near catatonic, and seems shocked at what he's done. Bullshit to all those who say he had a blank expression - that is not the fucking look of an expressionless kid. It might not be much, and his shock doesn't imply he's less evil, it just shows that this is probably his first exposure to anything of the magnitude of murder. Skip to years later, and Michael is 21. Let's outline the moments we spend with Michael, as well as his actions and the way he holds himself. Loomis and a nurse are going to Smiths Grove to pick him up and take him to be tried as an adult. As they approach the sanitarium, they notice many wandering inmates in the darkened fields. As Loomis gets out to investigate, Myers leaps onto the car from behind like an animal. He's swift and quick, and is already playful in his actions. He makes noise on top of the car to startle the nurse, then smashes the side window and tries to grab her. He jumps down, throws her out the car and hops in. He drives away. Now he embarks on his 100 mile plus road trip to Haddonfield.
On the way, he stops at a garage, kills a guy there, and steals his overalls. He arrives in Haddonfield, breaks into a shop and steals a mask. He returns to his old home, eats a dog, and sees Laurie walk up to the door. He decides to start following her, so he hops in the car and does so. He follows little Tommy, Laurie, and Laurie's friends. He stands on the streets and in gardens and intentionally exposes himself, then hides. He's letting them know that he's around. In my head, Myers was always robotic, with surgeon-like stillness, but he really isn't like that. He holds onto the trees as he hides behind them and leers out from the side. He stumbles and knocks a plant over when watching a girl in her house and backs away quickly as it made noise - or was this intentional? Either way, he's not anywhere near as robotic in his mannerisms as I remembered.
His stalking is deliberate and unsubtle. He doesn't give a shit if people notice him, as long as the ones he's targeting do. He's really getting off on this. Eventually, he decides to actually start killing them. He sees Annie naked, as she spills whatever-the-fuck-she-spills on herself. He watches her this entire time - these scenes constantly have Myers presence, because he's constantly there. At this point, he's staying within a tiny radius: just two houses. He's got everything else out the way now His sister's gravestone was successfully retrieved earlier and he's already popped that into the house ready to decorate his house-of-horrors. The killing begins. He's stalked for at least twelve hours, and by now he understands the people he's watching and he's figured out their interpersonal relationships. For a man who does twelve hours of stalking, his kills are pretty quick. A strangulation, a cut throat and a stabbing. It seems this isn't the ultimate goal for him, it's just the final piece in a long chain of excitements. When he killed Judith as a kid, he watched her first. It's probably likely that, for hours, days or weeks before the scene that opens Halloween, he was watching Judith not with eyes of a younger brother, but eyes of a killer.
He kills Annie and then takes her corpse upstairs where he positions her on the bed. He waits again, this time for someone else to arrive. Lynda and her boyfriend rock up soon after, so it's time to start killing. Michael has paid the least attention to these two in terms of stalking, so he gets to business quite a bit quicker. He lets them have sex - yes, this is a matter of him allowing them to, because he was there the entire time. Then, the guy goes downstairs to retrieve some beers. There, Michael makes a noise and then hides in a closet, waiting for the guy to investigate. He lunges out the closet and pierces the guys' chest, nailing him to the wall with the knife. The guy dies, and Myers does what is now considered one of his trademarks: his head tilt. He probably had a similar experience after killing Annie, but it cuts pretty soon after that one so we don't get to see it. Nick Castle - the actor portraying Myers - was told by Carpenter to act like a kid who had pinned a butterfly to a board: it's almost as if there is an element of curiosity here. And that's where we get to an interesting point: Myers has been catatonic and lifeless since the killing of his sister 15 years ago. Not a word spoken. We imagine Myers sat in his room, all day, every day, staring. Staring at the walls. He grew. He went through puberty. He grew into a man. All whilst in this state. It's not unreasonable to surmise from this that he's probably, on some level, in a state of arrested development. What could there be to develop him? He was, presumably, a normal child, in a normal household on a normal street in a normal school, before he murdered Judith. Whatever was brewing inside of him took over when he killed Judith, and he froze in that moment - he'd have to. He spent all of his time thinking about that kill, because if not, why would he instantly start trying to memorialise, to relive? Why bring his sister's gravestone to his new house of mayhem if he didn't have some affinity to it? Michael Myers is still that six year old boy, and he's still got that curiosity. Whatever it is that drives Michael to kill, it's in the same state as it was when he was six: he likely killed Judith out of curiosity, and here he is again. He's amazed that he just pinned someone to a wall! Wow, no longer does he only have one kill to fantasise about, but he's wracking up more and more.
He then follows this firey curiosity with another infamous Myers moment - he takes a bedsheet, cuts out two holes, puts it over his head, puts his recent victim's glasses over it and heads upstairs. He opens the door of the bedroom and stands there, then after a moment, edges himself closer. After a while, he strangles her and she dies. But let's think about this: after killing that guy, whose name I have just completely forgotten, he cuts holes out of a bedsheet and wears it like a ghost. What does this say about Michael Myers? He roamed around the kitchen searching for scissors, cut out eyeholes, put the bedsheet on over the mask he's already wearing and puts the glasses on top of that. Is this his sense of humour? Is this just a method of getting closer to his victim without her knowing, so she's easier to attack? Some people say it's that, but Michael Myers simply wouldn't care about that. She was in bed, naked, a few feet from him. If he opened the door as himself or as the bedsheet, it wouldn't matter. He's just curious, and weird. He wanted to watch her for a while. By doing this, he can see her not just in a state of fear, but in an unalarmed, happy state. He didn't know what she'd do, but he was curious and excited to see it. His decision to do this also shows his creative flair - even if he is celebrating an ode to Judith's original kill 15 years ago, he's doing different things. Lynda was in a bedroom, naked and post-sex with her boyfriend. The environmental factors were almost the same as Judith's original kill. If Michael was simply trying to recreate the kill as an obsession to the original kill, he wouldn't be adding new elements. Hes building on the old memories, he's improving himself, pushing himself.
So he starts piling the bodies in different ways: hanging upside-down in a closet, shoved onto a shelve and laid on the bed below his sister's gravestone. Now he waits for his next victim. Laurie comes, but this time she manages to fight back. There are two schools of thought now: was Laurie his final girl, or was she meant to be another victim? Was his plan supposed to end with Laurie, or was she simply going to be another body? Based on what we see, he wanted to fill that room, and likely the house, with bodies. Clearly, he had planned what he was going to do for a long time. In his head, as he sat at Smiths Grove, he thought specifically: I'm going to take Judith's gravestone and surround it with more bodies. Either that, or this is all just on a whim, but I don't buy that. He escaped for a reason, on the anniversary of her death. He knew what he was going to do all along.
I don't think Laurie was all that important to Michael's plan. If he had successfully killed her too, he'd have continued to just find more and more bodies until he couldn't anymore, setting the house he was in as a giant mousetrap for the people of Haddonfield to fall into. But he couldn't because Laurie kept attacking him and he kept falling.
Now let's look at Michael's invincibility and supposed supernatural abilities. She stabs him in the neck with a sewing needle and he falls to the ground. It takes a while for him to get back up, but a wound like that likely wouldn't kill straight away. Sure, it would incapacitate, but we've learnt that Michael can be very "inhumanly patient" when he wants to be, what with his time at Smiths Grove as an example. He gets up and continues - does he feel pain here? Did it affect him at all? The fact he was down for a while implies, at least to me, that Laurie did manage to strike a fatal blow with that needle, otherwise Myers would get up straight away. Either that, or he didn't feel it, and simply allowed her to get away a bit to continue the chase. We've already established how much Michael enjoys the chase and the stalk, so of course he's going to give her that edge again. Then she stabs him in the eye with a coathanger and then in the chest with his own kitchen knife. Fatal blow. He falls. She gets the kids out of the house, and then he... gets up again. What was he experiencing? What was he thinking? He does think, because he isn't an empty vessel, so what was he thinking? Was he confused that he wasn't dying, or was his single desire to kill so overwhelming that he was able to override everything and continue? Either way, he goes for one last attack, where she demasks him. Here, we see that his eye is messed up. So his body does respond normally to physical stimuli - his eye was stabbed so the eyelid curls up. He bleeds. He's definitely human.
Then he's shot six times, falls out of the window and gets up again. This is the moment that a normal human being couldn't survive, so how did he? He must've been baffled! But anyway, through all this, we have to imagine the same scenes playing out not with the globally-recognised Michael Myers horror icon, but with the man behind the mask. He's a weird 21 year old guy who killed his sister when he was six and now he's back. He does weird shit. He's curious about kills and amused at the ways he does them. He stalks and watches. He used his sister's gravestone in his new rituals. He's just a young guy who really fucking likes killing. I don't want to explain why - it wasn't druids, but it might be that he's a pure incarnation of evil. But even if he is, he isn't just a shape. He clearly has a personality, and enjoys the way he stalks, and understands humans and how to get under their skin. If we imagine the same film but without the mask, it's a different picture. He's just a complete fucking weirdo, and somehow, his pure desire to kill grew so overwhelming that it broke reality and transcended life and death, and allowed him to become something more - his giver of death allowed him to escape it himself. This is Michael Myers. Haddonfield weirdo.
Now, I don't want to denounce the concept of evil here. I don't want to portray the concept of evil as being bound to the supernatural - it's often described Myers is the incarnate of pure evil and therefore he is a force of nature and unstoppable/unkillable - not human. There are many cases in real life of men who are truly evil - or at least commit heinous acts in the same vein Myers does - and this is the real world, where there is no supernatural. His ability to withstand stabbings and gunshots is not related to that, and is, to me, the ambiguity and amalgamation of the character of Michael Myers: all of Michael's personality traits are the perfect bedding for pure evil in a supernatural sense, but this doesn't negate Michael from being a human being who has lived 21 years and has his own personality, thoughts and internal lexicon. There is a precise logic and rhythym to Michael, and that's precisely because of the way he's portrayed: hes curious, playful, intelligent, agile, sadistic and childlike. He's inventive and creative and driven. He's Michael fucking Myers!
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blancheludis · 5 years
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A/N: @stony-week, day 4, prompt: high school
Fandom: Marvel, MCU, Avengers Relationship: Tony Stark / Steve Rogers Tags: High School, No Powers, Secret Relationship, Howard Stark’s A+ Parenting, Kissing
Summary: “You're staring at Tony's ass again." Steve can't help himself. Just like everything else about Tony, it is great. Too bad no one knows they are in a relationship. He has a feeling that no one believes his protest either way.
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Time is standing still. For the umpteenth time this class, Steve has dragged his eyes up to the clock over the door, willing its hands to move faster. Steve has long since stopped listening to their teacher, can barely even say whether they are still talking about the human nervous system. It is still twenty-nine minutes until they are free. Twenty-eight and a half. Twenty-eight.
There is a commotion in the front of the classroom. Some heated argument carried out in short-breathed whispers and furious gestures. Tony and Bruce. They are likely still carrying out the debate they started earlier in Physics. Science is never boring where those two are involved.
Some paper goes flying and Tony half-rises from his seat to pick it up. Steve is mesmerized.
“You’re staring at Stark’s ass again,” Clint hisses in Steve’s ear.
On Steve’s other side, Bucky startles, returning to full attention for the first time since entering the classroom. He looks between Clint and the heat Steve feels rising to his cheeks, and grins.
“Don’t call him out like that,” Bucky jokes, not bothering to whisper, “Stevie thinks he’s being secretive.”
It is only with great effort that Steve manages not to look back at where Tony is settling back into his seat.
“I’m not staring,” Steve protests. His vehemence is dampened by trying to be quiet about it. When he glances past Clint at Natasha, she merely raises an eyebrow at him. No help will come from her then.
“You totally have.” Clint smirks. “Ever since Physics class.”
Because Tony had been called up front and offered a much better sight than anything else in that drab room.
“He was being rude,” Steve snaps, almost wishing their teacher would call upon them and end his friends’ interrogation. He does not look at the clock again, mostly because Tony sits in the same direction, and he should not give Clint and Bucky any more ammunition.
“Considering how Stark usually is, today was rather tame,” Bucky intercepts with that lazy confidence of his that implies he knows more than everybody else.
“Which you might have noticed if you hadn’t been busy staring at his greater assets,” Clint adds cheekily.
Steve is trapped between them, unable to go anywhere or to make the time pass faster. This is his personal hell.  
“You have a really bad taste in jokes, Clint,” he says, sounding miffed, which has Bucky snickering.
“Well,” Clint says, leaning close, “you have a bad taste in men.”
This is a trap. Thankfully, Steve notices before he can open his mouth and bury his friends under a hundred reasons why his taste is everything but bad. As it is, he bites the inside of his cheek and looks straight ahead at the blackboard. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Clint pout in disappointment.
An eternity later, the bell rings. Steve is out of his seat before their teacher has even finished his sentence. He is not normally this rude, but he cannot wait to get out of here. Clint and Bucky are making plans for their movie night, which will, as usual, dissolve into mayhem and upset stomachs from too much sugar. Normally, Steve might pitch in, but today he prefers to sneak out while they are still busy, lest they start the teasing again.
As he shoulders his backpack, Natasha appears at his side. “You’re a bad liar,” she says simply, looking not at him but towards the front of the class where Tony and Bruce have still not finished their argument.
She does not wait for him to answer – knowing she could not believe him either way – but walks past him to join Bucky and Clint. Steve could defend himself. In the end, though, he just uses his chance to escape unnoticed.
Tony catches up with Steve after school. They meet at their usual table in a small café that none of Steve’s friends frequents. Normally, Tony might be annoyed by the secrecy but the coffee is really good and he has no intention of ruining his reputation by being associated with Barton and his bad jokes. Romanoff’s secret assassin vibes might be useful, but the two sadly come as a package deal.
He noticed Steve rushing out of the classroom earlier, face bright red, his friends laughing at him. It might be a stupid hope, but he wishes they could share these things. In Tony’s imagination, everything would be so much better if they did not have to sneak around. For once, he would feel less like an illicit mistress. Things are as they are, though, and Tony knows to make the best of it. It is still so very baffling to him that Steve wastes his time on him at all.
“You’ve been staring at my ass,” Tony says by way of greeting as he slides into his seat. A steaming cup of coffee is already waiting for him, which he immediately pulls towards himself, inhaling deeply. That is almost enough to profess his undying love to Steve.
Meanwhile, Steve buries his face in his hands. “Not you too.”
“I don’t blame you,” Tony smirks, “it’s a great ass.” He takes a sip of his coffee, not minding how hot it is. His tongue is already used to it. “But that’s not my point. You’re really shit at lying.”
“I’m not lying,” Steve protests with some petulance. “Just omitting something.”
Steve is one of those people who, if he stoops down to lying at all, broadcast it to everyone within a mile to see. He pulls up his shoulders, worries his lips. He is a textbook example for a liar, a walking cliché.
“Secrecy, then.” Tony shrugs dismissively. Word games bore him. “So not your thing. Especially since you’re the one who wanted to keep this quiet.”
This being a relationship. Their relationship, as in Tony and Steve being together. For someone whose brain is usually so quick to grasp anything presented to it, Tony has to repeat these words to himself fairly often. Daily, even. A world in which Steve Rogers, football star and all-around good human being, would willingly spend time with Tony Stark, rich bad boy and obsessive nerd, is not one he can imagine, despite living in it. It seems too good to be true.
“For you,” Steve answers easily, looking at Tony like he is the only thing worth seeing. Then he frowns a bit. “You could make it a little bit easier by not winking at me in the middle of class.”
Mostly, Tony just cannot help himself. Sometimes, he is just overcome by a sudden, cruel doubt, so he just has to do something to prove he has not just been imagining things with Steve. If he can wink at Steve in the middle of school and not get an earful for it, there has to be some truth to their relationship.
“To get a rise out of you,” he explains, completely unrepentant. “We’re playing at having a healthy rivalry, after all.” They are both trying to act like they always did while withholding the fact that they have some affection for each other now.
Steve’s face looks vaguely like he is about to scold Tony but they are interrupted by the waitress bringing cake. It is no secret that Steve wants Tony to eat more – also more healthy food, but he settles for what he can get. The result is Steve ordering Tony something new each week. Officially, they call it a learning experience. In truth, it is just Steve trying to spoil Tony rotten the best he can. Today, the cake is blueberry. Tony already knows it will be a favourite.
“You’re being everything but inconspicuous,” Steve says as he picks at his chocolate éclair.
His mouth full of cake, Tony shrugs. “Because I don’t care whether the whole world knows.”
They have had that argument a dozen times, but Steve will not budge. In a way, Tony should feel flattered, but his whole life consists of acting and lying. He is tired of it.
“I do,” Steve says firmly, “since I’d like to avoid your father kicking you out.”
Howard would literally kick him, leaving him with some broken bones to drive the point home. Tony has been careful to hide his various bruises from Steve, but even though they have never explicitly talked about it, Tony is sure Howard’s abuse is just as impossible to keep quiet as their relationship.
Still, he rolls his eyes, pretending there is nothing to worry about. “I’ll land on my feet. I always do.” That, at least, is the one Stark family trait he has successfully implemented in his life.
Steve puts his fork down forcefully, expression upset. “You won’t have to if I have anything to say about it.”
That is the thing with Steve, he still believes in saving the world. He believes humanity as a whole and Tony in particular are not beyond hope. It is refreshing to be with someone so pure, compared to the shrewd businessmen and rich snobs Tony has to deal with otherwise. Life would be so much better with a couple more people like Steve in it – although Tony might be biased.
Because he does not want to be arguing, Tony grins and says, “It could be so romantic, though. I’ll run away and sleep on your couch. Your mum loves me.”
It would never work. Howard would find him and drag him home before the week is out, making the life of everyone who helped Tony miserable. He can dream, though.
“My mum doesn’t know you,” Steve answers dryly, not quite ready to give up on their former topic.
Tony waves dismissively. “All parents love me. My mother raised me with manners.” She also taught him to always be ready to bite behind his smiles. “Also, you told me you come after her, and you love me too, right?”
Tony almost winces at how needy he sounds, but he has learned to keep his head up high. If this relationship with Steve does not work out, he prefers to know sooner rather than later. His heart has always had a tendency to break easily.
“Of course I do,” Steve says without hesitation. Tony could kiss him for it, right here in the open. “I just –” He interrupts himself again, looking at Tony with a heaviness to his gaze that cannot mean anything good. Then he nods as if he has come to a decision. “We’re having a movie night at Bucky’s tonight. Want to come with me?”
The words are as simple as they are unexpected, unheard of. Tony does not trust his ears, even while he is sure Steve would not pull a prank like this on him. For almost a year now they have been sneaking around everyone’s backs. Tony’s parents, of course, but also Steve’s friends, who he views as family. They decided in the beginning that no one should know until they are both out of here, until Tony is of age and able to get away from the expectations loaded on his shoulders.
This is not just a break of their self-imposed rule, it could change everything. Tony is not sure he is ready for that. He might be whining about the secrecy, but he likes having Steve all to himself, to not have to fight for his place at Steve’s side.
“Are you inviting me to meet your friends?” Tony asks, voice full of doubt.
“Yes,” Steve agrees like there is nothing to it. “I mean, they already know you.”
“But we don’t like each other,” Tony exclaims, feeling like this is a disaster in the making. “And how are you going to explain my presence? That you didn’t finish yelling at me for disrespecting our teachers before school was out so you want to continue in private?”
Their carefully built house of cards is ready to collapse. Before Tony can descend into the panic building in the back of his head, Steve clicks his tongue to get his attention.
“I’m going to introduce you as my boyfriend.”
Tony stares. Of all possible and impossible scenarios, he has not expected this. Barton is notoriously bad at keeping his mouth shut, and Barnes usually glares at Tony so bad that it would be no surprise if he used this information against him. Romanoff – well, Tony does not want to imagine what she would do to him if she thought he had wronged Steve. They are such a loyal group.
“We’re walking in circles here, Rogers,” Tony says, not sure what he even wants Steve to do. “You can either want us to remain secret or invite me to hang out with your friends.”
Steve nods with a grave expression, making Tony think he has messed up. Here he had been offered a hand and refused it. Then Steve gets up and slides on the bench next to Tony so that they are sitting pressed against each other. Warmth spreads into Tony from where their legs touch.
Tony automatically lets go of his fork, cake forgotten, when Steve reaches for his hand. If there was even one logical thought left in his brain, he should call an end to it. Anyone could see them here, making a spectacle of themselves. Or, perhaps, the only thing making a spectacle is Tony’s heart, beating wildly.
“You’re not my dirty secret Tony,” Steve says in that quiet, firm voice of his that leaves no doubt he believes what he is saying, “and I don’t want you to feel like it. I don’t want your father to know, because you might be all blasé about his behaviour, but I’m scared of what he might do to you. Whatever happens at school can and will get back to him.”
He takes a deep breath, likely thinking the same thing as Tony. If they do this, there is no going back.
“My friends will stay quiet about it if we ask, they might even help with keeping our cover,” Steve explains with more confidence than Tony feels. “But they are important to me. Bucky is like family. I want them to meet you as who you are to me. I want us to be able to be open about our relationship with the people I trust most beyond you.”
Tony is floored by the emotion he sees in Steve’s eyes, emotion that is directed at him. “I – Steve.”
With a small laugh, Steve squeezes Tony’s hand. “I know you’re not great with words. So just pick me up at seven,” he says, making the decision for them. “And be prepared for Clint eating pineapples on his pizza.”
For several long moments, Tony’s tongue feels heavy, unable to form words. His lips, though, pull up into a wide smile of their own volition, and Tony’s stomach is doing summersaults. That is when he knows he is going to ignore what his brain says. He wants this. If Howard finds out, they will deal with that when the time comes. For now, Tony wants to be happy.
Leaning against Steve’s side, Tony wants to thank him. Instead, his mouth does what it wants and says, “I knew something was seriously wrong with that guy.”
“I’m sure the two of you will get along like a house on fire. I’ll regret ever introducing you two.” This time, Steve’s laughter holds more relief than amusement, making Tony realize that he was worried Tony might say no. Tony would have never thought he might not be the only one being insecure about their relationship.
“You don’t have to do this just for me,” Tony says.
By now, he is sure Steve would not do it if he did not mean it, but there is always a voice sounding suspiciously like Howard in his head, telling him to never expect anything good happening to him.
With his free hand, Steve gently cups Tony’s cheek. “You deserve the world, Tony, and I’ll readily share what little I have of it.”
Not caring anymore who might see them, Tony leans closer and presses a small kiss on Steve’s lips. “I love you, Steve.”
Nothing could make him happier than the readiness with which Steve answers. “Love you, too.”
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robininthelabyrinth · 6 years
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here are some keywords about a fic (idk if it’s 200 words or 20k i’d read it anyway) if you wrote it: coldflash/coldflashwave kidnapped!tiedup!gagged!barry and some insane villain who enjoys driving len and/or mick mad.
A fill for Coldflash Weeks Day 2: Hostage Situation/Kidnap
Anon: I’m sorry. I tried. It came out as crack despite my best efforts.
Ao3 link
Summary: Leonard Snart joins the Legion of Doom as Team Flash’s inside spy, except then Barry gets captured and tied up by the leader of the group. Luckily for Barry, Len’s terrible sense of humor comes to the rescue.
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It’d seemed like a good idea at the time.
“Our known enemies are forming a new League of Evil People Doing Bad Things, but they’re being super secretive about it this time – clearly the best way to figure out what they’re up to is to have one of our allies, someone no one will ever suspect, infiltrate it!”
Now, who do does Team Flash possibly know who could pull that delicate balance of ‘evil but not actually that evil’ off?
Unlike Mick, Len has the advantage of having spent a few years dead for tax reasons instead of running around saving the world, and his only famous exploits before that were as the Flash’s enemy rather than his ally. So, naturally, he’s the obvious pick for the job, even if he had originally planned on laying low for a while, recover from the whole death thing, maybe running a few heists to stay in shape, that sort of thing.
Despite Len’s best intentions regarding that, Barry tracked him down and asked Len to join the Loathsome Legion of Darkness. For his sake.
He even said please.
One day, Len will figure out how to say no to Barry when he’s doing that big wide-eyed “it’s for the good of the city!” pleading expression.
That particular day, alas, was not the day.
So Len took himself over to the villains they knew were involved and crashed their party, doing the whole smirking and innuendo and intimidation thing that basically counts as a supervillain’s resume submission, and he got himself a nomination for the Confederacy of Criminals.
It wasn’t all that easy, of course. They demanded a show of good faith first.
A demonstration of Len’s criminal credentials and his general villainous disposition.
Len robbed them while they weren’t looking and offered to give them back their weapons as their sign of good faith, with an added helping of his boot up their ass.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, that actually worked, and before you know it, Len’s a full-fledged member of the Malicious Mob.
Naturally, they don’t trust him at first, giving him little jobs that are more about appeasing him and keeping him in the group long enough to use him as cannon fodder in someone else’s plans, but Len’s nobody’s henchmen. He starts working his way up the ranks of the Network of Nefarious No-Gooders, making himself useful to one person, then another.
Of course, usually he’s helping people with backstabbing other members of the Society of Sociopaths, and the superheroes don’t really object to those - and, of course, the villains treat it as de rigeur. Sometimes, however, it’s pulling jobs against superheroes he’d never even known existed and has no particularly good ways of countering.
Luckily, Len is very good at his job.
Every once in a while, though, he’s forced to help with…less savory things.
For instance, today, the leader of the Band of Blackguards and Bad Guys had apparently managed to capture a superhero (how he avoided letting his overwhelming incompetence stop him from successfully doing so is a mystery) and wants Len to help torture him, or at least help keep watch while said superhero gets tortured.
Len never likes those jobs in the best of times, and he usually finds some way to avoid them, but in this case, he got a very special personal invitation to the torture session.
And the reason for that invitation is because the kidnapped superhero in question is the Flash.
“I knew you’d enjoy this one,” the leader of the Club of Convicts and Criminal Masterminds crows. “At last, Cold, your membership in our little group has paid off.”
Please. Like Len would ever need the help of the Atrocious Alliance to capture Barry.
Len could probably bait a cardboard box with some pizza and that would work.
Or maybe he’d just pop over to STAR Labs, where there is still no security system, and say “I need you for a kidnapping, please come this way” and Barry probably would.
Len loves the guy, but they really need to work on his gullibility.
As it is, however, Barry is currently a prisoner of the Order of Offended and Offensive Outlaws.
He’s still in his costume with his mask intact, which is good and means that Len won’t have to murder the leader of the Gang of Gruesome Gangsters to protect Barry’s identity, but he’s also, as Len likes to put it, a little tied up at the moment.
Barry’s on his knees, his body draped with silvery ropes that glimmer blue and look like something that just came out of the laboratories. His hands are tied behind his back and his knees are spread, and he’s been gagged with an equally silvery ball gag that makes his lips look even redder in contrast.
Len’s going to rescue him.
Totally.
He just, uh, needs a few seconds to fix this image in his head for posterity.
And possibly take a few pictures first.
Oh, now Barry’s glaring at Len. Specifically, at Len’s stolen iPhone that he’s using to take photos. But that’s okay! Len’s cool with it. It gives the pictures a very sexy implied non-con effect.
“Now, Flash, you are at our non-existent mercy! We have captured – are you quite done taking pictures, Cold?” the leader of the Syndicate of Sinister Scoundrels asks, scowling at Len.
“No,” Len says. “Hold up, I want to get a different angle.”
“Cold, stop that at once. You’re not helping create the appropriately intimidating effect,” the leader snarls.
“Don’t let me interfere with your monologue, O Glorious Leader,” Len says. “Hey, Flasher, gimme a smile.”
Barry glares death.
He must really not be able to get out of those ropes.
Len goes to get a picture from the back (Barry has such excellent assets, it’d be a crime to overlook them) and Barry flips him off from where his hands are tied together.
“Nice,” Len says appreciatively. “Very nice. You know I like it when you’re feisty for me.”
The leader of the Coterie of Conniving Crooks coughs pointedly. “Do you want me to let you have some…alone time with your superhero?”
“Yeah, boss,” Len says. “That’d be great. You can leave now.”
“The question was rhetorical,” the leader says flatly.
“And the answer wasn’t,” Len says. “What’s your point?”
“Are you sleeping with your superhero?” the leader of the Hookup of Hateful Hooligans demands. He sounds appalled, which is just offensive. He’s the bad guy here! He has no place to judge!
“I mean,” Len says, “not at the moment, no.”
“I don’t know if we allow that sort of thing,” the leader of the Association of Absolute Assholes sniffs.
“What if it was entirely non-consensual?” Len asks. It’s important to know where they draw the line.
“I wasn’t suggesting that it was consensual!”
Seriously?
Gross.
“Listen, are you going to let me torture him or not?” Len asks, putting away his phone and crossing his arms. “I thought that’s why you called me here, so I could get some of my kicks in before he’s inevitably rescued by the good guys.”
“Rescue is not inevitable,” the leader of the Institute of Incurable Idiots objects.
“It kind of is,” Len says. “Since they’ve done it every other time we’ve successfully kidnapped a good guy or done something else like this. Now shoo.”
“I want to torture him too!”
“You don’t get to,” Len says sternly. “He’s mine. I’m very possessive -“
"Since when?!”
“It’s a new development. Anyway, you don’t want to cross a possessive supervillain. Remember Gotham?”
The leader of the Circle of Craven Cowards winces. He does remember Gotham.
“Fine,” he says sulkily. “You can have him.”
“I’ll be sure to monologue before I do anything untoward,” Len promises. "I’ll follow your wonderful example.”
The leader of the Federation of Fugitive Felons scowls at him and flounces away.
He’d probably think of it as a menacing glide, but really, it’s a flounce.
Len turns back to Barry and removes the gag at once.
“Were the pictures really necessary?” Barry hisses.
“Entirely,” Len lies. “I definitely wasn’t taking them for my own amusement. Not at all.”
Barry tries to maintain a glare and ends up sniggering.
“But seriously, what are you doing here? Are these ropes actually enough to keep you back?”
“They’re problematic,” Barry allows, which means yes. “But actually, thanks to your intel, we’ve figured out what the doomsday device they’re working on and we’re planning a big attack on it tomorrow, so we’re here to pull you out. Ideally with your cover intact in case the Legion reforms after we take them down.”
It’s not like Len won’t leap at any chance to escape the Wicked Wrongdoers of the World here, he’s been dying of boredom for weeks, but an escape that keeps his cover intact means…
“You’re going to kidnap me?” Len says, starting to grin. “Oh, good. Will I be tied up? Will you use the gag?”
Barry rolls his eyes at him.
“What if I ask really nicely?”
“I’ve told you once, I’ll tell you again,” Barry says. “Not in public.”
“Spoilsport.”
94 notes · View notes
skulduggerypleasant · 6 years
Text
Twitter Q&A (8/3/18)
Derek did an impromptu Q&A session on his Twitter last night, and answered a lot of tweets in very quick succession. I really do mean a lot, and he’s not even finished with all the questions yet (although I helped him out where I could), so expect an update to this post soon enough! Under the cut, you’ll find a summary of pretty much everything that he said, excluding anything that wasn’t really relevant to a wider audience. There are, inevitably, spoilers for every book up to and including Resurrection. Anyways, enjoy!
We’ll be getting bits and pieces of information about Carol’s death—and it’s consequences—as the books go on, although it won’t be a main plot point by any means. [x]
“China is generally the hardest to write, because I have to force myself to not make jokes. Val's the easiest, because she's the most real to me.” [x]
“Skulduggery has had primarily straight relationships in the past, but pretty much all sorcerers are bi, China included. Val is, at this point in her life, kinda straight, with definite bi leanings.” [x]
Female sorcerers have a monthly menstrual cycle for however long their bodies stay young. [x] (Why do you people ask these things?)
We’re never going to be told Skulduggery’s given name. [x]
The Unnamed will be elaborated on in Phase Two. [x]
Skulduggery brushes his teeth, and he showers if his bones are dirty. [x]
Derek only decided on Ghastly’s grisly fate around Mortal Coil; up until that point, he was going to live. [x]
Derek considers Necromancy the coolest power to write, but thinks that Teleportation is ultimately the best. [x]
“If someone was taken over by [both] a Remnant and a Faceless One, the Faceless One would burn out the Remnant in an instant.” [x]
Derek has no intention of telling us how many books he has planned for the series, but we’ll probably find out eventually. [x]
“[Valkyrie’s] powers will be explored further as we go.” [x]
Only one reflection can be released at a time, and you still have a normal reflection in mirrors all the while. [x]
“I had the first idea [for the series] in the summer of 2005, and I didn't change any of the major aspects since then. The only question was whether to set it in the ‘real’ world or a fantasy world where walking skeletons weren't a big deal. Obviously, the real world won.” [x]
Valkyrie will not be teaching any other sorcerers, as she isn’t in any kind of mindset to teach, and her power set is entirely unique. [x]
We’ll learn how Mevolent died during the war in Phase Two, as well as how the alternate-dimension Mevolent managed to survive where the original did not. Also, it’s implied that there’s plenty more we’ll find out about. [x]
“Harry Potter probably influenced me the most, especially early on. I should have been confident enough to throw off those shackles, but in a way I needed them in order to find my own way of telling stories.” [x]
Derek is suitably—but not necessarily suspiciously—evasive when questioned about possible connections between Valkyrie/Darquesse and The Unnamed. [x]
Skulduggery probably can’t seal his true name, without a heart to carve the appropriate symbols into. [x]
“Okay, but when does Ghastly come back to life?” / “On a Tuesday.” [x]
We’ll find out about Valkyrie’s infamous “vision boyfriend” that Cassandra Pharos saw back in Last Stand of Dead Men. [x]
Again, Derek heavily implies we’ll see the return of alternate-universe Mevolent in future books. [x]
“I've left it open enough so that I COULD link [Skulduggery Pleasant and Demon Road], but I don't think I will, unless I have an awesome idea for a crossover...” [x]
Derek was originally intending to reveal what Saracen’s power is, but now he’s unsure if he ever will. [x]
We’ll find out what strange thing Dusk tasted in Valkyrie’s blood back in Dark Days; it was already confirmed that it was neither her Ancient lineage, or her Darquesse alter-ego. [x]
Necromancers have yet to successfully figure out a way to harness their powers without the use of an imbued object. [x]
Derek is unsure if he’ll ever write (another) Dead Men short story set during the war, as short stories are incredibly time-consuming. [x]
We’ll find out as we progress through Phase Two what, exactly, made Skulduggery quit his job at the Sanctuary. [x]
“China’s charm works on EVERYONE.” [x]
The Reflection would’ve been unable to approach the Book of Names. [x]
It’s possible for a sorcerer who has discovered their true name to achieve power equal to, or greater than, the Ancients/Faceless Ones. [x]
Valkyrie has “not yet” dressed up as Skulduggery for Halloween. [x]
“Love is love, is it not?” [x]
Gracious O’Callahan is based on one of Derek’s friends. [x]
“Where did Skulduggery find the Bentley?” / “In the Bentley shop.” [x]
The Book of Names was not the only way to discover one’s True Name, and the Book itself was created by the Ancients. [x]
“The pop culture references simply reflect the times in which the books are set. The problem is that pop culture can date a book pretty fast, but I tend not to care about things like that.” [x]
Before Skulduggery died, his face was apparently “like, super handsome and stuff.” [x] (As if that surprises anyone...)
“You can use sigils if you're, say, an Elemental, but you can't get to China's level unless you devote yourself to the discipline.” [x]
Lord Vile is not mute, he just doesn’t like to speak. [x]
It’s a possibility that we might see a villain in future who has control over older, more visceral forms of magic. (Although, I can��t say Derek’s response was notably promising, but who knows?) [x]
“Omen has a definite journey in these books. He's just trying to figure out who he is, and find his place in the world.” [x]
“Darquesse is either A) kicking Faceless One ass or B) having her ass kicked by Faceless Ones. Vile hasn't gone anywhere...” [x]
Derek promises that we haven’t seen the last of shunters, again pretty much confirming a return to the Leibniz Universe. [x]
“Solomon always liked the name, which is why he took it... and he HAD [nine] brothers but they all died mysteriously. VERY mysteriously.” [x]
Fletcher was supposed to die early on, but Derek changed his mind. [x]
Solomon Wreath once had a pet gerbil, apparently. [x]
“The Taken Name is a psychological protection, so literally all you have to do is decide on your new name, and there you go.” [x]
We may possibly get more short stories set before the first book. [x]
“As powerful as Vile was, Mevolent was more so.” [x]
There are no plans to tell us much more, if anything, about Skulduggery’s family. [x] (However, we have previously been promised that Midnight will delve a little more into Skulduggery’s past.)
“Is there any way of bringing Tanith and Ghastly back together?” / “Sure. I’ll just have to kill Tanith.” [x]
Derek listens to music while he writes: “Soundtracks only—no lyrics! Star Wars, Marvel, Pirates of the Carribbean—anything big and bombastic.” [x]
Serpine has apparently used Skulduggery’s ribcage as a xylophone. [x]
Darquesse’s personality shifted away from Valkyrie’s because “she changed once her power grew; her consciousness expanded.” [x]
“[Skulduggery]’s unlikely to be the only one who's ever figured out how to do it, but I like to think that anyone else who learned how to fly lost their focus mid-flight and died screaming all the way down...” [x]
Following the death of Anton Shudder, the Midnight Hotel has been passed on to a different (unknown) owner. [x]
There probably won’t be any extra books or short stories about Milo, of Demon Road trilogy fame. [x]
We pretty much already know this, but: “[Skulduggery] is one of the few magically ambidextrous people out there.” [x]
If Derek had the chance to rewrite the series, he would save Ghastly. [x]
Skulduggery’s guilty pleasure is “watching old movies.” [x]
“Tanith is keeping busy, and Militsa SO fancies Val...” [x]
Billy-Ray Sanguine’s magic is earth-focused, so technically it could be classified as an Elemental ability, but because he’s so specialised and his powers are so unique, it’s counted as an Adept discipline. [x]
Elders are elected. [x] (But apparently, Supreme Mages are not...)
“At this point in her life, I'd say Val is probably closing in on bisexual, but heteromantic. So far.” [x]
“[Thrasher] had a mother, but she has sadly passed.” [x]
Apparently, Mevolent’s three generals were “cool with each other,” and “they had game nights and everything.” [x] (Inexplicably, I got scolded by an anon for saying that this was more than likely a joke.)
Valkyrie and Tanith’s dynamic may have changed following the events of the last books, but we’ll have to wait and see “if and when they meet again.” [x]
“There are parts I wish had slightly different rules linked to them, which would have made it easier to use these things in later books, but nothing I regret as such, no.” [x]
Mobile phones still worked when Skulduggery and Valkyrie were in Hammer Lane Gaol (in Kingdom of the Wicked) because... magic! [x]
There are no plans, and there probably never will be, to tell us whether Skulduggery’s child was a boy or a girl. [x]
Derek knew that Erskine Ravel was probably going to end up being the main antagonist in the book in which he was introduced, but he only knew for definite by the time he was writing the book after that. [x]
Again (because when do they not?), someone asked whether there would be a movie or a tv show based on the series, and as always, the answer is: hopefully yes, but no news yet. [x]
Derek would consider writing for Doctor Who again if asked, but he generally prefers having complete ownership over his writing—so he can kill whichever characters he wants. [x]
I don’t know why this was asked, but in case anyone was wondering, Skulduggery and Serpine are not related. [x]
105 notes · View notes