#@katie I know you would make better choices than this but honestly.... HONESTLY

[rulimaquina]

Something Is No Longer Wrong With My Stepdaughter

Word count: 4981 words.

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I never planned to have kids of my own. The mere topic of getting pregnant was enough to turn any conversation awkward because most people don't understand why my face twists with disgust at the idea. The idea of giving birth didn't make me feel any less disgusted. And I'd suffered enough during my years spent hopping from foster home to foster home when I was a kid and having my birth certificate altered twice so they could pass me as younger in hopes of getting me adopted off before I finally grew out of the system, to know that 'adoption' is, in many cases, just a fancier word for 'child trafficking'. So that was also not an option.

But I love kids. It was the reason why I became a teacher and studied and continue to learn as much as I can to be the best role model I can be for them. Because all kids deserve to have someone to look up to, someone to turn to when they're excited, scared, angry. Someone who will be there for them. After all, kids are what we, the adults, make of them.

Louis was a godsend. I met him during a soccer game one of my students had begged me to go to, where Louis' eleven year old niece also happened to play, and it was the closest I've ever gotten to believing in love at first sight. He was handsome, hardworking —bordering on being a workaholic— and funny. The best part, the part that made me ignore his talk about leaving on work trips that could last weeks at a times, was that he didn't mind that I had gotten my tubes tied fresh out of college, because he already had a daughter and often joked about how she was more than enough for him. The fact he'd finished the sentence with: "Either way, I wouldn't mind. That's women's choice." earned him even more points in my book. We had a relatively short period as boyfriend and girlfriend —a year—, then spent eight months engaged, two of which were spent living together, before we finally got married.

He was just perfect. The kind of perfection that makes us broken people feel like there has to be something really, deeply wrong, because such perfection just cannot exist.

His only flaw was his daughter, Katie.

Katie was a grade A bitch. Not my words. I would have never called or even thought about calling or even thinking about a preadolescent kid as a grade A bitch. At first, to me, Katie was just a shy kid- some would say too shy for a 12 year old kid. But hey, some kids are just introverted and I saw no problem with that, nor did I see any problem with her behavior. Not right away, it took a while for Katie to show her true colors, long enough that when I received warnings from Karen, Louis' sister, I believed that she must have been exaggerating because describing your own niece as a 'grade A bitch' when your brother introduces his, at the time, girlfriend at Thanksgiving dinner isn't exactly normal. Also because she'd started the sentence with "I'm warning you now that you still have a chance to get out." as if a 12 year old girl's behavior could be enough to make me break up with Louis. Honestly, I thought Karen perhaps didn't like me and wanted to scare me out of dating her brother. I even joked with friends that, maybe, she was in love with her brother and didn't want competition, fully believing Katie was just a shy, introverted kid who hadn't yet opened up to the fact her dad was dating. Her name being Karen also played a role in me believing she was being overly dramatic.

But Karen was right and I was so, so wrong.

Katie was truly a grade A bitch. I tried my best to not let that description of her cloud my ability to create an opinion of my own, but there was just no better way to put it. Katie was selfish, rude, entitled and it seemed that the only thing that brought her joy was making others miserable. I should have known. The amount of times Louis had to leave work to go have meetings with the principal should have been the warning, but he never talked about the meetings and I just assumed Katie was being bullied, not that she was the bully. But her cruel behavior didn't just stay at school, she was banned from Karen's house, was never left alone with her cousin who, despite being only a year younger and both taller and heavier than her, was terrified enough of her to apparently be manipulated and terrorized into all sorts of trouble.

I somehow managed to remain oblivious of all that, until after the wedding.

Our carefully planned honeymoon was canceled because Katie faked appendicitis. I say 'faked' and not 'had an appendicitis scare like many girls going through puberty do' because she confessed to me that she'd been faking it, right after hearing me talk to the hotel we'd booked, begging them to understand our situation and be empathetic, only for them to tell me that, no, they couldn't refund us the price of the suite with a sea-view we'd paid for in advance, because the room had been kept empty and they hadn't been able to reach Louis within the 24 hours window to cancel and get a refund, curiously enough, Katie had been playing on his phone all day because hers was 'dead' and she 'needed a distraction from the pain'. It was the first time I saw her smile.

But I didn't complain, because Louis had promised that he could make that money back in no time, that he could refund me my half or we could make up for the missed honeymoon with a family vacation. Both to celebrate our union and to celebrate that, to him, Katie's appendicitis had been 'just a false alarm'.

Of course, I picked the family vacation. Even if it meant spending even more time with Katie than I had to at the hospital.

I was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt, willing to understand that having to share her father with a woman who wasn't her mother —another grade A bitch, I might add, and without shame because since I'd gotten engaged to Louis eight months ago, she had only spent time with her own daughter twice, and before that, only five times in two years— was something that took time to get used to and this must have been her way of crying out for attention. Until we made it to the vacation house.

It was a nice two stories tall house —Louis called it a cabin, but I wasn't going to call it a cabin because 'cabins in the woods' just don't look like that— in some heavily forested corner of Oregon. The kind of place with windows that cover a whole area of the wall from floor to ceiling on the second floor, and make you feel like you might get Friday the 13th-ed in there. We got there on a humid summer day, a Friday, intending to stay until two Mondays from that day.

The first day, Katie was just too exhausted from the road trip and having to unpack to start anything. Or so I thought.

The whole day had passed so easily, I ended up letting my guard down. We were sitting down for dinner later than usual, and I was putting down the plates with steak. Mine first, because my chair was the one closest to the kitchen door, then, I intended to walk behind Katie to get between her and Louis, and put both their plates down at the same time like in some fancy restaurant. I was planning to fake a french accent and everything, just to see if I could make them both laugh. But my plan was foiled by Katie planting both her hands against the edge of the table and pushing herself, chair and all, away from the table and into me.

Both glass plates crashed to the ground as I stumbled for balance, one hand gripping the back of her chair, accidentally catching her hair between my fingers and the wood, pulling enough that she shrieked.

It should have felt cathartic. But I apologized to her, profusely, right before I got down on my knees and started picking up the shards of glass and the steak. Louis joined me on the floor, smiling at me before he looked up at Katie, his expression hardening and, for once, I thought he was going to actually do something.

"Go get the mop and a bucket, young lady."

That was it. Katie huffed but obliged, and returned with both things, dropping the bucket an inch away from the floor and causing it to splash some water out. Clearly intended for me, though it mostly reached her father. I could tell she noticed because, unlike if more water had reached me, she looked regretful.

"You cooked mine wrong anyway so, no loss," she said, smiling at me.

As Katie made her way back to the kitchen, a smile of satisfaction on her face that I couldn't see but I could feel was there, Louis gave me an apologetic look. Another flaw of his, he just didn't know how to discipline his daughter despite being the adult and her being the child. But I didn't count it as a flaw back then, because I didn't know how to do so either.

Our second day there was better.

I was stuck taking care of Molly, the chocolate-colored toy poodle that Katie often, even that morning, made sure to remind me was not mine, but who I fed, played with, cleaned up after and walked. Even before this vacation. While Katie only picked her up after her grooming appointments to take selfies with and, very rarely, played fetch with when she had friends over at the apartment I'd been sharing with them for two months prior to the wedding.

"I'm tired of this fucking house." at first, I was caught off guard by the fact Katie was speaking to me. It shocked me enough to make me forget Louis had left to go to the store around forty minutes ago, and that the closest town was fifty minutes away. "I'm gonna go outside."

It took me a minute to react. I watched her walk out the back door and left Molly to her food before I moved to the kitchen window that had a great view of the backyard. I opened it.

"Stay in the backyard, you don't know the area!" I told her.

Katie showed me the middle finger over her shoulder, then disappeared past the treeline.

I deflated a little. But Molly butting my leg, demanding more food and greeting me with that cute little face of hers fixed my mood some. I played fetch with her, throwing the ball from the kitchen to the living room, watching her run after it and bring it back only to make me wrestle her for it. I wasn't really paying attention to the passage of time. I got the ball from Molly again and I threw it across the house again, Molly ran after it, but stopped right in front of the wooden back door, every hair in her little body standing on end as her ears pressed back against her head, teeth bared as she growled. Then, she ran and hid under the couch.

The door opened.

I felt my heart drop to my stomach and my world spin when I laid my eyes on Katie. Her jeans and blouse were dirty and torn, she looked like she'd rolled around in the mud and at the same time, like someone or something had tried to rip her clothes off her. But her body seemed pristine, not a scratch or bruise or even a speck of dirt on her skin, the high ponytail her long blond hair was pulled into was a bit crooked but, other than that, it looked the same as when she'd left. She stared at me, but looked as if she was staring right through me.

"I fell," Katie spoke, realizing I needed some sort of explanation, fast. But only giving me the most emotionless and short explanation.

She fell? She just fell?

I scrambled to my feet and stepped forward, not daring to touch her at first. Then, I dropped to my knees in front of her, my hands moved to feel the inside of her thighs for any wetness, any blood, as she just stared down at me with that thousand yards look in her eyes, her lips pressed into a thin line. Then, her eyes finally focused on me, moving slowly as if she was studying my face carefully.

"What happened?" I asked her, my voice more of a plea for her to tell me than a question.

"I told you," she said, just as emotionless as the first time. "I fell."

I stood up and reached for her shoulder. Without really meaning to, but needing proof that she was actually there and wasn't just an apparition while the real Katie was lying dead in some tree, having been attacked by an animal or taken advantage of by some sick bastard because I had too little of a spine to make her listen to me, I squeezed. She just stared at me. Then, as if she realized she was supposed to feel pain because she'd just told me she'd fallen, she winced.

"That hurts," there was just barely a hint of emotion in her tone. The kind of 'that hurts' that you voice when you get a drop of hot water on your hand while cooking, not the kind you voice when you've fallen in the woods hard enough to walk back home with torn clothes.

I didn't know what to do. I called Louis, I called the rangers. They both arrived at around the same time, with the park rangers car parking in our driveway just before Louis did. He must have broken some kind of record, and all speed laws known to man, considering the park rangers building was way closer than the town the store he'd driven to was located in.

The rangers came prepared. One of them had medical training while the other kept asking me questions. I insisted that something more than a fall had to have happened, and they agreed, but with no injuries, no signs that she'd been hurt other than the state of her clothes, and no word from Katie other than that she'd fallen while taking a walk through the woods and come back home right after, there wasn't really anything they could do other than go outside with Louis and check the surroundings for a little over two hours, before concluding that there was no sign of people nor any animal that could have caused that, only Katie's footprints going to and from the woods.

Afterwards, Katie had been… strange.

I blamed it on the shock of whatever had happened to her, but deep down I knew there was something else going on. Katie hadn't ever come in contact with me, aside from that first time we'd been introduced to each other and we shook hands. Any other time I tried to initiate any kind of physical attention: a gentle squeeze, a playful poke, or even as much as brushing my hand against her by accident, she moved away as if my touch burned her. If Louis wasn't looking, she'd pair her actions with a look of disgust that would indicate I'd touched her with a shit-stained stick instead of my very clean hand. Now, she became my shadow.

She sat by my side on the couch, cuddling against my side. She followed me into the kitchen and insisted on helping me cook dinner, which I had to guide her through like she had never done or before, which didn't surprise me because- well, she was spoiled and I wouldn't have put it past Louis to never teach his daughter how to cook. Since the night before's dinner had been impossible to enjoy and Louis hadn't been able to get more groceries with his quickly he'd returned in his panic of something happening to his daughter, I just decided to recycle the idea of making steak, which Katie seemed really happy with. She watched me open another package of four steaks, and put it in the microwave so that they would unstick from each other. I could have sworn I watched her mouth water when I pulled them out after five minutes and there were droplets of blood dripping from them when I got them with the fork to get them off the plastic container.

When it came time to turn them around in the oven, Katie was hovering behind me, staring over my shoulder.

"Can we eat them like that?" she asked me.

Her tone was gentle, hesitant and polite in a way that made me flinch because I fully expected this to be some sort of trap. I even looked down at her hands to make sure she wasn't folding anything that could be used to prank me or hurt me. That was the level of paranoia this child's behavior had reduced me to. But her hands were empty aside from a cloth I'd been using to clean some blood off the counter and I'd asked her to hold it for me while I checked our food. She was squeezing and twisting it almost nervously.

"You like your steak rare?" I asked her. Her eyes narrowed and her head tilted in confusion. "That's when it's juicy and red on the inside."

"Oh," she said, her tone suddenly monotonous. "Yeah, I like it like that."

I nodded, thinking to myself that, well, that was weird. But I would take this kind of weird behavior ten times over her usual angry-at-the-world behavior.

The next day, we all went to town. Even Molly came along, because Katie insisted on bringing her with us. It'd been an odd night, but slowly, Molly seemed to begin warming up to Katie again, enough to let her be the one holding the leash. I blamed the previous growling and hiding on the fact seeing Katie the way she'd returned from the woods had probably scared the soul out of Molly, or that perhaps she could smell some wild animal on Katie that made her wary of her. But that didn't matter. How could it matter when Katie walked ahead of Louis and I, trotting to make Molly run and bark, her fluffy tail wagging a mile per second.

We made it to the store and each of us went their own way, agreeing to meet back at the front to pay in fifteen minutes, while Molly stayed outside, tied to the bicycles rack.

As I made my way from hall to hall, I noticed Katie in the hall with all the hair products. She was holding a box of hair dye. It didn't surprise me, since I'd already seen her dye her hair different colors a few times. She had the hair for that, honey blond and healthy from her five products routine. What made me let out a punched-out gasp as I approached, however, was the fact that she was holding a brunette dye box, staring intensely at it and, upon realizing I was there with her, holding it up beside my hair.

"Do you think it's the same color?" she asked me.

Hesitantly, I took the box from her hand while grabbing a strand of my own hair with the other, comparing the color shown on the box with my own. Then, I looked up at Katie.

"I think mine is just a shade darker," I said, handing the box back.

Katie nodded, returned the box to its previous spot, even made sure that it was perfectly straight. Then, she looked for a darker shade and grabbed it. She looked at it, then at me, and she smiled a smile I could only describe as tense and unused.

"It's this one," she said. "Can you dye my hair when we get back?"

This time, I managed to hold back the punched-out gasp that threatened to leave me. I smiled a crooked smile, torn between shock and joy that this was actually happening, Katie wanted to spend time with me. "Of course I can!" I said, wincing at me own excitement because this felt unreal, felt like any moment now she was going to start cackling, mock me for falling for her prank. But, instead, Katie hooked her arm with mine, and walked with me around the store grabbing things, holding onto her hair dye box until it was time to pay and I had to tell her to hand it back.

I never heard so many compliments about how pretty my curls were and how shiny my hair was as I did on the ride back to the house. Katie complimented me enough to make Louis feel like he had to, too, but his "I love when you have it loose like today." didn't compare with Katie's "Your hair is soft like cotton."

It was nice. But I still sort of expected the other shoe to drop. I made sure that Katie told me she wanted me to dye her hair the same color as mine and that it'd been her idea out of nowhere to do so, twice, in front of her father once we made it to the house, before I even made my way with her to the bathroom to actually do it, because I wasn't going to risk her claiming that I'd forced her or anything of that sort once it was done and there was no turning back. Once it was done, she stared at herself in the mirror, awestruck, and made me stand beside her, her expression growing even more joyful as we stood side by side with our now identically-colored hair. I even offered to get a curler and try my hand at giving her curls that looked like mine, but Katie very politely told me she just loved the color.

That day had been so perfect, I didn't even have it in me to get mad at Louis when he got a call early in the morning the next day telling him he had to go back home because something at work had gone wrong and nobody but him could sort the problem out. I just smiled and told him we'd be waiting for him, even after he told me that he'd be gone until Thursday night.

Louis left after lunch. I just resigned myself to having Katie go back to her old self the moment his car sped away from the driveway. I even walked back to the living room with fearful, hesitant steps, only to find her sitting on the carpet in front of the couch, Molly curled up on her lap, her tail wagging lazily as Katie petted her. Katie turned her eyes from the weather broadcast to me, smiling.

"It's going to rain tonight," she told me. "We could watch a movie."

That's how we ended up cuddling- yes, cuddling on the couch, a blanket over both of us, Molly lying over the blanket on Katie's lap, and a now empty bowl of popcorn on mine. Rain poured outside, but there was no thunder, just the howling of the wind and the crashing of water against glass and the wood of the porches.

Then, there was a much heavier, louder crash on the back porch.

We both tensed. Molly whined and shifted in Katie's lap, even barked, and Molly rarely barked. Something was wrong. I moved to stand and Katie's hand seized my arm, her features twisted into a fearful expression.

"Don't go," she whined.

I rested my hand over hers. It took me a minute to pry her fingers from my arm, the feeling of her grip lingered even as I brought her hand to my lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

"Stay here," I told her.

I moved the blanket off myself and petted Molly to try and calm her, before I slowly made my way towards the door. I peeked out through the peephole just as something heavy and human slammed against the door.

Katie stood outside, soaked to the bone. Her hair was a mess, knotty and dirty like she hadn't combed or washed it in days, her arms and legs were covered in scratches and bruises, some deep enough to bleed, she had a wild look in her eyes, looking back over her shoulder towards the woods with frantic glances, never ceasing her knocking on the door, her clothes were different from what she'd worn that day when she left the house to go for a walk, it looked like some kind of leather I couldn't recognize if I didn't open the door.

I pressed my forehead to the door and closed my eyes, feeling each vibration all the way to the bone as her fists frantically banged against the outside of the wooden surface.

"Dad, are you there?!" she cried out. "Let me in. They're going to find me! Dad!"

"I told you to stay in the backyard."

A couple seconds of shocked silence passed, then. "Teresa?" she asked. The little shit sounded almost surprised I was there, when this is my house too. "Teresa, what the hell are you waiting for?! Open the fucking door!"

"You should have fucking listened to me, you disrespectful little brat!" I spoke, louder, harsher than I'd ever dared speak to her before. I was tired of being the enabler and receiving only disrespect in return. "Now you're going to learn!"

Then came the insults. Being called an envious cunt, among many other nasty words that no twelve year old should be using with anyone, but much less with her father's spouse who had up until now been trying her best. It made it easier to turn my back to the door, eyes still shut as I took a deep breath, reminding myself it wouldn't be right to tell a child that this 'envious cunt' made her daddy's toes curl at night.

I looked towards the living room and there was Katie on the couch, where I'd left her. Her body remained facing towards the paused television, but her head was tilted as far as she could to the side, staring directly at me through the corner of her eye. Her face seemed to have paled, shoulders tense and eye wide like she'd been caught looking through my closet, but also like an animal ready to attack. Like a cornered rat, the thought popped in my head and, honestly, it was fitting. This was the most genuine emotion I'd seen on her face since she'd walked in with her clothes torn and dirty, but otherwise unscathed.

The microwave went off. The popcorn was ready.

I walked towards the kitchen slowly, holding my hands behind my back to let the Katie on the couch see them at all times. I poured all the popcorn into two bowls and added butter and salt to mine, ketchup and sugar to Katie's. The hairs at the back of my neck stood on end and, resisting the urge to look over my shoulder, I glanced towards the microwave door and saw the reflection of Katie peeking into the kitchen, staring right at me with that same 'busted child and cornered rat hybrid' look on her face. When I turned to face that direction, losing sight of her for perhaps half a second, she wasn't there. I walked back into the living room with one bowl in each hand, ignoring the banging on the door and the voice that had changed her strategy from insults to desperate pleas, and found Katie on the couch again, in the exact same position as when I'd left her.

"Remind me to add ketchup to the list of things I need your dad to buy on his way back," I hummed as I sat back by her side, resting the bowls on my lap, hers in front of mine, closer to my knees. "We don't want to run out or we'll have to find you a different snack for movie nights."

I grabbed the remote, swung one arm over the back of the couch and watched her flinch at my closeness. I didn't touch her, choosing to instead give her time to initiate contact on her own. After all, some kids are fidgety when they feel like they might be in trouble, especially kids like my Katie, always trying so hard to be the perfect child and make me happy, but not socially aware enough to tell that my previous upset had been directed at the rude little shit at the door, not at her.

It took a minute, but she finally returned to her previous position leaning against my side, and I wrapped my arm around her, tracing gentle shapes against the smooth, hairless flesh of her arm. There was hair growing there, I could feel it now.

The screams got loud and more desperate before they finally stopped and I was able to unpause the movie.

"I love you, mama," Katie said from where her head rested against my chest, one of her hands pressed flat over my belly, fingers sprawled out as if she wanted to feel as much of me as possible, as if she loved me so much she couldn't get enough of me.

"I love you too sweetie."

#creepypasta #horror stories #scary stories #nosleep #horror writing #fiction #horror fiction #something is no longer wrong with my stepdaughter #my writing #my original work

[givemeanaccountalready]

Hi! Off sideblog/anon but anyways For the milgram ask game: Yuno for 2, 5, and 18

2. Favorite music video moment/frame?

Hmmm, I think this one is my favorite:

Pop off, queen 💅🏻

Honestly, I love the irony of Yuno going, “Oh, so you love your ideal me? How about I break it and see how much you love me then?” To which the Internet told her, “YAAAAS, SLAY GURL SLAY.”

Yuno is going to live her life the way she sees fit, and you can’t stop her or her catsona. In all seriousness, I do admire the confidence and agency that they gave Yuno in Milgram. It would have been so, so easy to say she did sex work as a last resort to make ends meet or some other reason, and Yuno makes it clear that her choices, while we may not agree or like every single one, are entirely her own. No one forced her to do this. This was something she chose. Not only is her agency very refreshing, but I also enjoy her acceptance that she may be condemned and is even open to it, even if it is only there to kill this pitiable image of herself. Maybe condemned isn’t the best word… open to the consequences of her actions, be it good or bad? She doesn’t shy away from what she’s done or that she won’t stop because people tell her not to. It’s interesting. I like her character a lot actually. She’s in my top 3 for Milgram 😅

5. Favorite voice drama line/moment?

“Well, if I were to say what I was trying to say… It’s fucking bothersome.”

Iconic.

It doesn’t help that I’m weak for precision F-strikes. I think she’s the first, and so far the only character to say fuck and I am here for it. I remember having English teacher after English teacher emphasize the importance of a good hook, and Yuno executed it beautifully. Her hook is succinct and strong, and then she goes straight into ripping Es a new one over the changed circumstances of Milgram. I know Yuno has a devil may care attitude, but that attitude reads to me more as a defensive front to present to the world rather than her being flippant and ditzy. She foils nicely with Fuuta and Kotoko in how the three of them look for justice. Fuuta focused more on calling out bad behavior than reparations before Milgram and during Trial 1, while Kotoko is almost certainly doubling down on her belief that she is the fang of justice. During Yuno’s first trial voice drama, it seems like she’s trying to feel things out and see what exactly Es and Milgram have in store for her and the other prisoners. During the second voice drama, she seems to have a grasp on what Milgram wants (justice outside of the law, seemingly without regard for nuance) and decides not to play ball.

She lists all the new issues with the Milgram prisoners that she is aware of and presses Es on what they are going to do. When Es is verbally cornered and repeats Milgram’s purpose statement, Yuno asks if repeating it makes it easier to believe (also iconic). Yuno doesn’t seem to be interested in making Es pay, just aware that they are not infallible, so don’t act like it. She doesn’t beat the dead horse with assigning blame, like Trial 1 Fuuta would have, but she isn’t trying to force consequences for Es’s decisions like Kotoko would have.

Fuuta and Kotoko operate on simpler terms of black and white morality, which feeds their behavior before and during their time in Milgram. Yuno is acutely aware of society’s perceptions and that situations vary in terms of complexity so blanket statements like FORGIVEN and NOT FORGIVEN are ultimately useless. It doesn’t allow for nuance and just causes trouble.

18. What non DECO Vocaloid song fits them?

To be honest, I don’t really know any Japanese songs outside of Milgram. She’d probably sing Katy Perry’s “Hot n Cold” to Es and Jackalope as an additional middle finger to Milgram.

Maybe, Kesha’s “Woman”? No, I think “Die Young” fits her vibe better. It’s a fun song to dance and sing to, especially when the drums hit. Yuno can pop off to it.

#ask game #yuno kashiki

[opalescent-cheetah]

for the writing asks.. 19, 26, 33 ?

19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?

I actually still remember the first story I ever wrote! I think I was around six years old? And I was at home, feeling kind of bored because my parents were busy, so I sat down with a few sheets of paper, some markers, and wrote a little picture book about this owl called Mrs. Owl (original, I know) who was looking for her friend Katie. My dad (who also writes) was SO proud of me and I think I've been riding that high ever since tbh. I went from Mrs. Owl to a detective series about my cat (think the Thea Stilton series but with anthropomorphic cats) and then to warriors fanfic, and it's just gone on from there. The most major bump in the road has been my fibromyalgia, which causes brain fog and fatigue like you wouldn't believe 💀 Initially I wanted to be an author as my career choice, but I've had to let that dream slide because the brain fog makes it too difficult to read and write as much as I would need to as a full-time writer. Writing as a sort of side-hobby is still super fun though, so I'm not really unhappy about where I'm at. Just hoping to get on top of the brain fog + fatigue so I can give y'all more updates 💪

26. How do you get into your character’s head? How do you get out? Do you ever regret going in there in the first place?

Honestly I'm not too sure! For some characters, like Shenhe or Crystal Methyd, it comes pretty easy because I already relate to them on some fundamental level, so I just draw from myself and my own experiences. For others, I try to relate them to people I know or admire (I very much connect Nicky Doll with one of my best friends, for example), or I just go off on a tangent in my discord server, analysing the characters' behaviour, voicelines etc to get a better grasp of them. I've had to do that for Rosaria in particular quite a lot, lol. I find music also helps, if I can find songs I think they'll relate to (I basically had Promise to Try, Oh Father, Voices and Inside of Me (all by Madonna lol) rotating in my head when I was writing Shenhe's scenes in the early chapters of Destiny)

33. Do you practice any other art besides writing? Does that art ever tie into your writing, or is it entirely separate?

I draw (and should be animating bc that's like. what i'm studying. but I don't do it much lol) and play bass as well! Occasionally I also dabble in cosplay, painting denim, sewing etc but not so much nowadays. I'll occasionally sketch stuff from my fics but other than that there's no connection between my writing and my other hobbies :,0 admittedly though, when I don't know what to draw, I'll often fall back on drawing Shenhe and/or Rosaria 😂

Tysm for the questions inkats!! 💖

#asks #ask game #inkats

[remythologise]

:) :) :)

#:))))))))))) #preserved forever and ever amen #kaburagie #I never said I was a role model brodie but honestly of all the things for you to join me in I'm so glad it was this #kira for ts #@katie I know you would make better choices than this but honestly.... HONESTLY #get the club back together #I need a tag specifically for you two tbh #brodie #replies #anyway so @ everyone on the fence I thoroughly encourage you to join me in hell it's absolutely the greatest #who needs to care about november elections when you can care about how badly they're going to fuck the spn finale

[kpopfanfictrash]

Raise the Barre (Ch. 1)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Creative Content Contributor: @baebae-goodnight​ (WHO MADE THIS PERFECTLY GORGEOUS MOODBOARD)

Pairing: Jimin / Reader

Rating: 18+ (Eventual Smut)

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Dance Academy!AU 

Word Count: 7,003

Summary: You and Park Jimin have been rivals for as long as you’ve known one another; ever since he tripped you in the front row of your first dance convention. When you graduate from high school and enter Russet Ballet Academy, you tell yourself you’re leaving all past quarrels behind. The main problem with this though, is that your past seems determined not to leave you alone.

Worse still, the obstacles you face while out in the real world might prove more challenging than anything your enemy has to offer.    

Thumbs hooked beneath the straps of your backpack, you paused on the sidewalk to tilt your head up. A sign reading Russet Ballet Academy hung from the building above, detailing the location of the next four years of your life.

It was the dream of many to attend and yet, few ever came to walk these halls as its students. Only eighty dancers were accepted to their dance program each year; the fiercest competition from all over the globe.

Somehow, you were amongst them.

The day you’d received your letter still felt like a dream but here you were, standing under the sign and knowing you’d made it. You stared at it a second longer before your mom came up and squeezed your shoulder.

“Wow,” she said, also reading the sign. “Seems like just yesterday you fell on your ass at Hall of Fame, huh?”

“Mom!” You laughed, the moment effectively broken. “Why would you bring that up now? I was twelve!”

She grinned and glanced in your direction. “You just had such enthusiasm! Picked yourself right back up and kept going. I should’ve known then you would make it.”

Despite yourself, you felt your insides soften again. It sounded like something your old dance teacher, Miss Katie, would’ve said. She’d always had faith in your perseverance and ability. You hadn’t started competing until the age of eleven; in dancer years, this was considered late and yet, you grew quickly through the ranks. By the time you reached high school, you were known on the competitive dance circuit as one of the elites.

Your parents joked it was your contrariness that kept you going. Growing up, you’d never much liked hearing the word no – something your parents applauded and bemoaned in equal measure.

Hiking your bag higher, you turned to face your parents. “So, are you going to take a photo, or what?”

“A photo! Great idea.” Scanning the sidewalk, your mom found your dad. “Honey, come here! Honey! Hone – honestly,” she huffed, waving both arms overhead.

Finally, your dad noticed and hurried in your direction. “Have you seen the gargoyles?” he asked, clearly impressed. “The architecture of this building is incredible, Y/N. When you get settled, maybe you can find out for me who the builder –”

“Take the picture, darling,” said your mom, handing over the camera.

She moved beside you, hugging you tight enough to make breathing difficult. You were happy though, smiling brightly as your dad took the shot.

“Okay, okay,” you said, laughing after the tenth frame. “I think you guys have embarrassed me enough for one day, don’t you?”

“Debatable,” said your dad, grabbing your luggage to haul up the steps. “We’ve got to make up for all the days we won’t see you. You’re not coming home until the holidays, right? That’s a long time!”

At this, a small pang went through you and you nodded. He was right – your parents lived a plane flight away and you’d never been the wealthiest of households. You wouldn’t be able to return until three months from now, which was the longest you’d ever spent away from your family.

It was such a strange thought, you didn’t know what to do with it. As crazy as it was, since they often drove you crazy, you hadn’t ever lived far away from home and the thought made you sad. It was just another way your life was being upended.

As you entered the arched door of Grace Hall, your soon-to-be home, your head spun from the newness. In your small suburban town, you’d had a reputation. The best dancer, the straight-A student, the person with her act together – never mind what you did behind the scenes to make it appear that way. The point was, you were known.

Here, you were just another small fish thrown into the big pond. It wasn’t that you were a bad dancer – far from it – but here, everyone was the best. Everyone at Russet had passed the same bar, which meant the stakes would be higher than ever before. You had never danced under that kind of pressure and scrutiny.

Stomach churning, you once again wondered if you’d made the right choice. You’d been accepted into other Universities; ones without dance programs where you’d have a more secure future. Instead, you chose to pursue dance as a career.

It wasn’t that other majors were without risk or difficulty, but there was a certain physical and mental exhaustion associated with dance which most found to be a deterrent. You once had a teacher who said if you needed to think twice about dancing, you shouldn’t do it. Way too many people never made it to the top; if you weren’t prepared to make sacrifices for what you loved, then this wasn’t the path for you.

At the time, you hadn’t thought twice about your decision, but that was before the events of Senior year.

A week before the final dance competition of the season, your tendonitis grew so bad, you physically winced whenever you landed a jump. Your teachers finally caught on and forced you to see a doctor, who forbade you from dancing in the upcoming competition.

It had been the last one of the year; your final chance to compete and show everyone – well, someone – why you were considered the best. You went to the competition despite your injury, determined to cheer on your teammates, but something hollow settled into your chest as you watched, realizing your time on the stage would someday come to an end.

You realized how tenuous your body was and, by extension, your career. Of course, you’d known this before, but it had been your first time to face this knowledge head-on and it scared you. Tendonitis wasn’t something that went away, although it was a condition you could work through and manage. Still, your body would only get worse and although you knew you wanted to dance, now you had doubts.

As you stepped through the doors of Russet Academy, these doubts reared their ugly heads once again.

Hiking your bag further up on your shoulder, you plastered a smile on your face and pushed these thoughts away. That was last year. You were better now, fully recovered and approved to dance by your doctors. So long as you took care of yourself, there was nothing to fear.

More suitcases waited in the trunk of your dad’s rental car, but your roommate had already texted her arrival, so you headed upstairs. Noelle Carmichael was from California, a Sagittarius, had begun dancing at the age of three and loved caramel popcorn more than anything else in the world. All this information had been thrown at you during your first text conversation, which might have seemed like a lot, but after a summer of talking, you knew it to only be Noelle. 

As you lugged your bag from the elevator – the singular service vehicle had been repurposed for move-in – a head poked itself from a room down the hall.

“Y/N?” 

When you nodded, your roommate whooped and leapt into view. 

“It’s me – Noelle!” she called.

She rushed to help you with your bags, chattering excitedly as you walked down the hall. Noelle’s move-in time had been yesterday, and her parents had already left, but they couldn’t wait to meet you the next time they visited.

You found her enthusiasm contagious and before long, most of your worries had been banished to the sidewalk outside. It felt like you’d known Noelle for much longer than the few months you talked over the summer. This greatly relieved you, since you’d been worried about making friends at Russet Academy.

Dancers weren’t always the friendliest, especially when it came to institutions like this. So much of dance was competition – competition for that ranking, that medal or that place in that dance company. It was hard to make teamwork a priority when so much of success was judged on the individual.

Noelle didn’t seem to think this way though, which helped ease some of your fears. You had both entered the ballet track at the Academy. You weren’t naturally a ballerina, but Russet recommended those who wanted to go into jazz or contemporary start with ballet. Smaller majors existed for tap and hip-hop, but those had never been your forte.

Meeting Noelle was enough for minimal tears to be shed while saying goodbye to your parents later that night. Your dad ended up crying, which of course set you off, but by the time they got in their rental car and turned the corner, you’d managed to mostly pull yourself together.

Noelle remained in the dorm while you said goodbye, lounging on her bed with a book in her lap. 

You paused on the threshold of your room when you returned, taking in the strangeness of all your surroundings. Your old comforter on a lofted bed, your laptop perched on a strange desk, your clothes hung in an armoire. It was both strange and familiar; the sight of it brought tears to your eyes.

“Oh, no!” Noelle said, hopping down from her bed. “Don’t cry, Y/N! I only just stopped crying this morning. If you cry, then I’ll cry and people will think something terrible is happening here.”

You laughed when she hugged you, hugging her back in the middle of the room. It was comforting to know someone else felt this way; after a moment, you pulled back to wipe your eyes.

“I’m fine,” you groaned, shaking your head. “Damn. I didn’t expect that.”

“I know.” Noelle smiled. “I was so excited to leave I forgot that deep down, I’m a gigantic baby. Huge mama’s girl.”

Stifling a laugh, you crossed the room to grab a Kleenex.

“If it helps,” Noelle said. “Some girls down the hall are having people over tonight. We could go and meet some of our classmates before orientation starts tomorrow. It should be fun!”

“That does sound fun,” you said, and you meant it.

A few hours later, you found yourself seated on equally horrible carpet in a room down the hall. Several other freshmen were seated beside you, sharing similar parting stories, which lifted your spirits.

“I bawled,” said Irene, clutching her chest. “I’ve had this giant countdown in my calendar all summer. I crossed each day off with a marker and then suddenly, I’m here and I miss my sister. Pathetic.”

Noelle laughed. “I’m just glad I was part of yesterday’s move-in day. It means only half of you heard my gigantic breakdown last night. Mad embarrassing. Pretty sure I told my brother I love him.” She shuddered. “He’s only supposed to get that honor on his birthday!”

The room cracked up, another girl chiming in and you swirled your cup, happily buzzed from the drink in your hand. You hadn’t had alcohol many times before, but it seemed appropriate for a night of new experiences. No one here was drinking to get drunk, since orientation began tomorrow, but some social lubricant tended to help in times like this.

Ballet wouldn’t start until Monday morning, so this was your last chance for a while to indulge. It wasn’t that you couldn’t drink during the semester, but you’d learned the hard way hangovers made for terrible class the next day. You’d only done it once before deciding to ban the idea of alcohol the night before dancing.

The other girls on your floor did their best to put you at ease. Aside from your roommate, there were five other girls who’d congregated in the room.

Ari and Jasmine lived in the room you all sat in. Ari lived within driving distance of the city, had the largest collection of gel pens you’d ever seen and had started dancing later in life (at age ten), which made it all the more impressive that she’d gotten in. Jasmine was from a tiny city in the south and was also a studio dancer; you recognized her the moment she spoke, having run into her as a teacher’s assistant at a dance convention you went to.

Also present were Irene, a ballerina from Chicago and Lia, who was on the hip-hop track. They were also roommates and although you probably wouldn’t have many classes with Lia, orientation tomorrow would be the same. As you got to know them better, the bubble of trepidation in your chest slowly deflated. Everyone here seemed nice – intense, but not as though they were out to get anyone.

As though conjured into being by your very thought, a girl appeared in the door.

She was tall, slim and had her hair pulled back in a French twist. Everything about her screamed ballerina, from her light blue warm-ups to her arched expression. The moment she appeared on the threshold, several people in the room quieted.

Noticing this, you glanced at her with renewed interest. It seemed the girl’s reputation preceded her, but you honestly had no idea who she was. Rather than introduce herself though, the girl merely sighed.

“I thought I heard something,” she said, her tone piqued.

Forcing a smile to her lips, Jasmine rose from the floor. “Hey, Sabrina!” she said, making her tone bright. “We were just getting to know one another. Did you change your mind about coming? We have room if you want to join.”

Despite her forced smile, you detected a glimmer of want beneath Jasmine’s words. Clearly, this Sabrina was considered a big deal. Jasmine’s hopes were immediately crushed the second Sabrina opened her mouth.

“No, thanks,” she said, her gaze sweeping the room. “I need to get to sleep soon. I want to wake up early and get in a quick barre before breakfast.”

Noelle, seated beside you, stared at Sabrina in amazement. “You already have access to rooms?”

Sabrina turned; a faint, amused smile crossed her lips. “Yeah. I went to Russet Prep. I’ve known most of the teachers here for years.”

Hearing this, your stomach sank to the floor. You’d known, of course, there was a feeder school into Russet Ballet Academy. You’d received the same audition letter many years ago, but the cost and distance had been too much for your family to consider.

While you’d understood the fact that you’d be amongst great dancers, you hadn’t thought specifically about Russet Prep ballerinas. Sabrina’s presence instantly dampened your mood, since the way she glanced at you confirmed what you already knew. 

She had a leg-up, she knew it and she wouldn’t hesitate to use it.

Leaning back on the futon, you slowly sipped your drink. “Did you just come here to say that?” you asked. “Or did you want something else?”

Multiple heads turned to face you. Irene’s lips twitched and beside you, Noelle let out a laugh. Based on their reactions, you got the feeling that Sabrina wasn’t very well-liked by her peers. 

Smile vanishing, Sabrina met your gaze. “That was all,” she said. “Just wanted to ask if you could keep it down. Some of us are trying to take this opportunity seriously.”

With that, she turned and stalked from the room. The door slammed shut behind her and silence lingered – until Noelle snorted and others began to laugh.

“Some of us are trying to take this opportunity seriously,” Noelle mimicked, rolling her eyes. “Give me a break. Like we all didn’t bleed into our pointe shoes to be here.”

The rest nodded in agreement and slowly, the conversation shifted to other topics. Although you joined in, uncertainty lingered in the back of your mind. It seemed some of dance’s cattiness had followed you after all. You weren’t truly surprised by this; after all, you were barely three months older than you’d been in high school. It was too much to expect people to become adults overnight.

Still, at least there was one cause for celebration this evening. The fact that you’d arrived at Russet meant you no longer had to compete against your most fierce rival.

For the next four years, Park Jimin, utter bane of your existence, would be nowhere in sight.

Early the next morning, you stood in line for registration at Danley Hall and awaited your schedule.

“Honestly.” Noelle stood on her toes to peer down the hall. “Why do they insist on handing these things out in person? We could easily get them online and skip all this nonsense.”

“We need to take our ID card photos,” you pointed out. “But yeah, it sucks. You’d think they could’ve at least assigned us time slots.”

“Dancers.” Noelle shook her head. “Great at conceptualizing abstract choreography – not so great at administrative tasks.”

You laughed, facing forward as the line started to move. It stopped shortly thereafter, as did you, rearranging the bag on your shoulder. You recognized several people from last night and waved hello to them all, receiving greetings in turn.

When your phone vibrated in your pocket, you jumped in surprise. Pulling it free, you smiled when you saw the name of your boyfriend.

“Oooo.” Noelle peered over your shoulder. “Who’s that? Boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” you laughed, swatting her arm as you opened his text. “It’s my boyfriend, Finn.”

“Finn’s a good name.” Noelle moved forward in line. “Strong. Noble. Damn, though – are you two doing long distance? Brave souls.”

“No – thank god. Finn’s at Redfield University. His orientation was last week, so we’re planning to meet up later tonight.”

“Redfield? That’s so close!” Noelle gushed. “Wow, you two are so lucky. And Redfield is a great school, too. I wholeheartedly approve.”

“Well, as long as you do,” you laughed. 

“What’s he saying? Wishing you luck with registration?”

“That, and asking where I want to get dinner tonight.”

“Sickeningly cute. I’d be jealous if I weren’t such a great person.”

You snorted, about to respond when someone called your name.

“Y/L/N, Y/N?”

Head jerking up, you saw a man at the office waving you forward. It seemed your time had finally come.

“That’s me!” you said, stepping from line.

The first stop at registration were two, tiny desks set before the main office. Past these, you could see someone finishing up their student photo. A bright flash went off, momentary blinding as you winced and faced forward.

“Here you go!” you said, placing your paperwork down. “Everything should be in order.”

The paperwork man barely nodded, grabbing the folder to rifle through. He seemed content to take his time and you quickly grew bored, glancing around the lobby. Much of your class was waiting in line, looking amusingly enough like a middle school dance. There hadn’t been general orientation yet, so most people had only met those in their (single-sex) dorm last night. Groups of boys and girls awkwardly faced off from across the hall.

While you waited, you began to size people up. It was unintentional, but you knew you’d be paired with someone for ballet and it seemed better to get a head start than not. Most people were unfamiliar to you, and you’d made no meaningful progress when a new voice said your name.

“Y/N?”

Freezing in place, you continued to stare at the hallway before you.

You knew that voice. It was one you could’ve identified in the depths of Tartarus itself – which honestly, was the only place you’d imagined hearing said voice again, since it belonged to Park Jimin. Top hellion of the underworld.

Slowly, you turned and had your worst suspicions confirmed.

Park Jimin stared back at you in the hall.

He wore a jean jacket, white t-shirt and golden sunglasses perched on his head, despite being indoors. Every part of his attire screamed pretentious, but no one around you seemed to notice. Instead, a buzz spread over the crowd as more and more people realized who you were talking to.

Before you could compose yourself, you demanded, “What are you doing here, Park?”

Jimin’s smile disappeared. Slowly, he walked forward and closed the distance between you.

“So, you’re not even going to try and be pleasant?” he asked, coming to a stop. Casually, he looked you up and down. “Surprised to see you here. Thought you’d stopped dancing, or something.”

Subconsciously, your hands balled into fists. Jimin had a way of getting under your skin that no one else did – even though admittedly, you could’ve just said hello. You didn’t have to act like he was the anti-Christ, even if he was.

“I didn’t stop dancing,” you said to him through gritted teeth. “You know that perfectly well.”

Jimin shrugged. “How was I supposed to know that? The last time I saw you, you were limping around like you were on your last legs. I just assumed.”

“I… was not limping,” you said with as much dignity as you could muster.

“Weren’t you on crutches?”

“My doctor made me use those!”

“Aha!” Jimin grinned, triumphant. “So, you were injured.”

“I had tendonitis,” you shot back. “Hardly fatal, Park. I’m fine now.”

“Right.” Jimin glanced at your feet. “Hope it doesn’t come back.”

From anyone else, you might’ve taken the words at face value, but this was Jimin. He’d never wished for your success before, so it would be foolish to imagine otherwise now.

Gaze hardening, you took another step forward until you stood nose-to-nose. Well, nose to chin was more like it. Jimin had grown since you first began competing against one another. You remembered a time when you both were the same height. This had once been a source of great amusement for you, choosing to stand directly before him at awards ceremonies.

You opened your mouth to tell him off when the paperwork man said your name again.

“That’s me!” you blurted, spinning around.

Jimin would have to wait, you decided as you strode forward. The paperwork man looked at you in alarm, clearly not used to having such enthusiastic participants.

“Uh, I know,” he said slowly. “You confirmed your name earlier. The photographer is ready,” he added, nodding towards the room Jimin had vacated.

Cheeks burning, you accepted your paperwork and nodded. Although you purposefully didn’t look at Jimin as you left, you could feel him smirking at you from behind.

Refusing to give him the time of day, you brushed past – or you would’ve, but the space was too small for dramatics. You nearly elbowed him in the spleen as you went, forced to squeeze against the wall in an undignified fashion.

Still, you didn’t look back as you entered the ID office. Some of your anger became transparent in your photo-taking, though – this much was obvious when you were handed your ID. Staring at this in horror, you remained frozen in the hall when Noelle finished and joined you.

“Oh, shit,” she said, glancing at your ID. “I feel a lot better about my photo now.”

“Hey!” you said, hand curling around the photo.

Despite this, you laughed, since she was right. On a scale of model to mug shot, your ID was definitely on the latter end.

As you walked away, you shook your head and shoved the ID in your bag. In the corner of one eye, you could see Jimin lingering while he talked with other students. You recognized no one in his group, except for a guy you thought you’d seen on YouTube. Hope on the Street, or something. Probably on the hip-hop track.

“Seriously, though.” Noelle looked at you sympathetically. “What happened? Photographer tell you he was going to murder your family?”

“Ugh, no,” you groaned. “Just got in my own head.”

“Uh-huh. And the fact that you were talking to Park Jimin right before had nothing to do with it?”

Blinking, you glanced at her in surprise. “You saw that?”

“Kind of.” Noelle looked a bit guilty. “I mean, it’s hard not to notice Park Jimin wandering the halls.”

You couldn’t help but scowl at this.

It was unprofessional, but your feud with Jimin went back so far, it was hard for you to be completely impartial. Your rivalry had begun when you’d both been picked to demonstrate the combination at NUVO dance convention and Jimin had tripped you while in the front row. He’d apologized afterwards, claiming ignorance, but you’d seen enough of his dancing by then to know Jimin didn’t make mistakes.

He’d tripped you on purpose.

Jimin was known on the competitive dance circuit, like you, but he had an almost cult-like following on YouTube and TikTok. Rumor had it, he’d been asked to join Ariana Grande on tour the previous summer, which was why you’d thought for sure you were rid of him. It seemed this was no longer the case.

“Yeah,” you grumbled as you neared Jimin in the hall. “He’s here, alright.”

Noelle hid a smile. “You don’t like him.”

“He’s an ass.”

“Yeah, he does,” said Noelle, gazing wistfully at his butt as you passed.

“Noelle!” you snorted. “That’s not what I said.”

“Huh?” Blinking innocently, she returned to you. “Oh, you said – oh. Sorry. Though you said something different.”

The smile she gave was incorrigible though and, despite your best interests, you laughed.

“I mean, he does have a nice butt,” Noelle argued. “Come on, Y/N. You have to admit that,” she continued once you were out of earshot.

“Hadn’t noticed.”

“Liar.”

“I mean, he’s a dancer!” you sputtered. “We all have nice butts.”

“Valid counter-argument,” Noelle said as you walked outside. “But seriously, he’s not a good guy?”

Paused on the sidewalk, you turned to glance at the building. Danley Hall rose above you; the location of class every day for the foreseeable future. Some of that now felt tainted by the prospect of seeing Jimin every day, as well.

With a sigh, you met Noelle’s gaze. “No,” you said at last. “We were rivals all throughout high school and believe me, there aren’t enough terrible superlatives to describe Park Jimin. He’s the most annoying, most childish, least humble–”

“–biggest suck-up, least trustworthy, mind-numbing idiot,” you finished, stabbing your salad with a fork.

Finn laughed at you from across the table. By this point, your feud with Jimin was old news to him. Shaking his head, curly brown hair flopped into his gaze.

“Damn, Y/N,” he said sympathetically. “That sucks. Can’t believe that jerk had the audacity to follow you to Russet. Sounds to me like he can’t get enough of you.”

Ignoring this, you rolled your eyes. “Believe me, it’s not that. Park Jimin doesn’t care about anyone but himself. It’s just Russet, you know? The most prestigious dance academy in the country. I just don’t understand how I didn’t know this,” you sighed, still troubled by the thought. “How come I didn’t know he’d be in the freshman class?”

“I don’t know.” Finn shrugged. “Maybe he doesn’t have a Facebook?”

Most of the freshman class had connected on Facebook, at least before someone made a What’s App chat for the group. Finn was probably right about Jimin not giving out his social media.

 “That’s probably true,” you grumbled. “But still.”

Finn laughed at your expression. Reaching across the table, he squeezed your hand in his. “Hey,” he said gently. “You beat him for what – four years? So, this is just another four years of putting him in his place. You’ll be fine.”

He was right, although in all honesty, Jimin had won about fifty percent of the time against you. It was one of the reasons you’d pushed yourself so hard in high school.

“You’re right,” you said, somewhat mollified.

“Of course, I am,” Finn said, letting go of your hand. “You’re talking to a man who put his loft bed together alone. By hand.”

You looked at him in alarm. “Did you at least use the manual?”

“Please, Y/N. Men don’t use manuals. We don’t believe in them, much as we don’t believe in cleaning, cooking, or coming in second.”

“Gross,” you groaned, throwing a cherry tomato at him. “Worst ad ever for the male sex. Besides, it’s not true – I beat Jimin in dance plenty of times.”

“Oh, come on,” Finn laughed. “He doesn’t count.”

Something about the way he said this made you sit a bit straighter. Finn resumed cutting into his steak, but you continued to stare at him across the table.

“What do you mean by that?” 

Finn looked up in surprise. “Well, you know. It’s not like he’s super manly.”

You stared at him, bewildered.

“I mean, he wears tights, Y/N.”

At this, your eyes narrowed. It wasn’t like you were Jimin’s biggest fan – you despised him, actually – but Finn’s argument was just stupid, even if he meant it as a joke.

“And?” You tilted your head. “He also bench-presses women above his head for fun. Are you being serious? Just because he –”

“Whoa, wait – I was kidding,” Finn said, looking stricken. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I just meant it as a joke, you know, since you hate the guy. Truce?”

You hesitated, still miffed, but ultimately deciding it wasn’t worth it. Finn truly looked sorry and this was Jimin, after all. Not that this made it better, but sometimes you grew tired of lecturing your boyfriend. Sometimes, it was just easier to let things go.

“I – yeah,” you said after a long pause. “Fine. Truce.”

“Come on.” Finn smiled and reached for your hand again. “You’re not really mad, are you?” He looked hopefully at you from beneath his curls. “Jimin’s the worst. What’s got you this upset?”

Sexism and toxic masculinity, you wanted to say, but he was right. This was Jimin and you hated that guy. It felt kind of weird to want to defend him to your boyfriend.

Still, though. Finn’s comment was annoying; it was one thing for you to insult Jimin. You did it based on Jimin’s merit, his talent, and the way he kept beating you. You’d never once insulted Jimin because of his gender. In the oddest of ways, it felt like your boyfriend had insulted you when he put down male dancers.

“I’m just annoyed by the whole situation,” you said at last, settling on a half-truth. “I hate the fact that Jimin won our bet.”

Finn nodded in sympathy, settling back in his seat to eat the rest of his meal.

You stared at your salad, no longer as hungry as you had been before. Remembering the bet had thoroughly ruined your appetite.

The bet had been made Senior year, a consequence of years of competition with no real declared winner. Jimin had been the one who suggested it, albeit after you goaded him into it. 

It had been your first competition of the season and you’d taken home the top trophy – First Overall in the Senior solo category. Jimin had come in second and when you met backstage, both holding your awards, you’d come to a stop to size one another up.

“Nice trophy,” Jimin said, his tone dripping with derision.

“Right?” Turning it over, you examined it. “Not sure where I’ll put it, though. My shelves at home are pretty full.”

“I think you’ll be fine,” Jimin said. “Competition is pretty stiff this season. I doubt you’ll win again.”

“Are you referring to yourself as my competition, Park?”

“Who else?”

“I wouldn’t worry about me,” you said, stepping closer. “After all, I beat you today. I can do it again.”

“Really?” He smirked. “What competitions are you going to this season?”

You told him, listing them off one by one without looking away.

Jimin listened and nodded. “I’ll be at four of those. How about a bet, then? Whoever wins First Overall at three of the five competitions declares themselves the winner.”

“Hm. What’s the catch?”

“No catch.” 

You paused, considering the implications of such a bet. “I don’t get it, though. What does the winner win?”

“Uh, our rivalry? Bragging rights for eternity? Pride? Take your pick, Y/N.”

“Pride,” you said with a snort. “Like you have any of that.”

“I don’t. Let me win it.”

You had to clamp your lips together to keep from laughing; it would’ve ruined your image to laugh at your declared enemy’s joke.

“Alright, fine,” you said with a shake of your head. “But here’s what I want in return – are you listening, Park?”

“Trying to.”

“At the end of this season – when I win – I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me I’m the better dancer.”

Jimin’s smile widened. “And what if I win?”

“Impossible. But if you do,” you allowed. “I’ll tell you you’re the better dancer. Deal?”

“Deal.”

And that had been that.

Shaking your head, you returned yourself to the present and took another bite of your salad.

“We were tied,” you said, the same anger returning. “Jimin had won twice and I had won twice. It wasn’t fair that he just got to win because I forfeited the last competition. I was injured!”

Finn nodded in agreement, just as he had every other time you’d told him this story.

Feeling a little bit guilty, you pushed your tirade aside and tried to focus on dinner. A bet from Senior year wasn’t really important in the long run. All that mattered was that you and Jimin had ended up at the same place.

Still – you couldn’t help but worry he’d pop up one day to make good on the promise. You still hadn’t told him he was the better dancer; it’d be even more humiliating to do so now, surrounded by all your classmates from Russet.

“Anyways,” you said with a sigh. “Enough about him. How was your day?”

Finn began a story about the supposed shower-caddy thief on his floor and you settled back, nodding and laughing at all the right times. Listening to Finn talk was comforting. He reminded you of home, of family dinners and long drives and date nights at the movie theatre.

Being in his presence felt like second semester Senior year – that invincible feeling of knowing where you were headed and feeling unstoppable. Having him in the city made the transition to Russet slightly less terrifying. He was your single known in a future of unknowns.

Well, except for Jimin. Jimin was also known, but in the opposite way. The thought of him was anything but calming; he made your jaw clench, blood pound and heart start to race. 

Even in looks, Jimin was the complete opposite of Finn. Where Finn had floppy, brown curls, Jimin’s blonde hair was usually swept back from his face. Finn was a light-hearted guy, always talking with his hands and laughing at nothing, whereas Jimin was nothing but intense. Every time you saw him at competitions, he was either practicing or sleeping. There was no in-between.

Finn took things one day at a time, which was something you envied. You always felt you were hurtling towards something, the days passing by too quickly to do everything that you wanted. It was part of what made you a good couple, you decided. Finn took things slowly and you sped him up.

Aside from his major, Finn’s future was wide open. He had no real direction other than to learn and have fun, which you also envied. As much as you wanted to have fun at Russet, you knew there wasn’t much time on your chosen career path. Each second counted and you couldn’t afford to waste one.

Starting that night.

Finn walked with you back to campus, dropping you off at Grace Hall with a lingering kiss. It became more heated than you anticipated, each of you panting when you broke things off to head inside. It had been a week since he’d come to Redfield, which was the longest you’d been apart since you lost your virginity to Finn at the start of the summer.

The sex had been good as of late, but Noelle was inside and you had no desire to hook up with your boyfriend in the bushes outside your dorm.

Once you’d returned, you collapsed on your futon and groaned when you read the schedule for tomorrow.

Noelle laughed from her bed. “Copson’s ballet class?”

“Copson’s ballet class,” you agreed with a sigh.

Vlad Copson was known, even to the incoming freshmen. He was a brilliant dancer and choreographer, but utterly terrifying as a teacher. Rumor had it every freshman was assigned to him their first year just to lower the class number from eighty to seventy.

You didn’t believe this, of course, but that didn’t keep your insides from churning. As you tried to fall sleep later that night, you realized with certainty that this was a beginning. Everything you’d done before now, everything you’d once achieved no longer mattered.

Everyone at Russet was on the same foot and all that mattered was what lay before you. Not at all cheered by this thought, you pulled up your covers and eventually fell asleep.

Vlad Copson turned out to be exactly what you had pictured; an immaculate man with a stern demeanor, wearing the exact same dress code he expected of his students.

He stood before the class the next morning, next to the stereo with both hands clasped before him. 

“Welcome,” he said, looking over his students. “I’m Vlad Copson, but you may call me Mr. Vlad for the duration of class. This is Ballet, Level 1.”

Approximately twenty faces stared back, caught in a mixture of certain awe and terror. You knew yourself to be among them, standing at the back of the room with Irene and Noelle. You’d been relieved to find them both in your classes, since there were two other schedules they could’ve been sorted into.

Unfortunately for you though, prep school Sabrina and hellion Jimin were also part of your schedule. They stood at the front on the opposite side and you did your best not to look at them, knowing no good would come from it.

Everyone in class was dressed exactly the same. The women wore leotards, buns, ballet belts, tights and pointe shoes. By this stage in your career, you were expected to do the entirety of ballet class on pointe. There had been much rosin-ing and banging of shoes before the class had started.

“Thank you to those who were on time,” Mr. Vlad said, casting a pointed glance at a boy near the front. Said boy had entered the room a few seconds after 8:00 AM. “For today, I’ll be lenient and let everyone stay. From now on though, class will start promptly on the hour. Those who aren’t ready will be asked to leave and come back when they can respect my time. Understood?”

A ripple of voices chorused yes.

“Good.” Mr. Vlad arched a brow. “You may have heard I’m a tough teacher. This is true. I am hard on my students, since you’re expected to be the best. Do you know how many applications Russet received this year alone? Nearly two thousand, and these were only from those who felt qualified to apply. Russet is a once in a lifetime opportunity, so I expect everyone who enters my classroom to act like it.”

Listening to him speak sent a bead of sweat down your neck. Although he didn’t say it specifically, you knew what Mr. Vlad meant. There were two thousand qualified individuals waiting to take your place if you failed. And that didn’t even include other students at the Academy, or even other dancers who waited out in the real world.

“For those who make it to the end, this will be a life-changing event.” Mr. Vlad paused. “There are teachers here who are far better than I – and I’m considered to be one of the best in the world. You’ll be pushed to your limits, but you’ll also grow at a tremendous pace. We gave you a spot because we believe in each of you. Prove us wrong, though,” he warned. “And that will be that.”

A lingering silence fell and in that quiet, you and Noelle glanced at each other. Again, you were glad for a friendly face. The entire speech would’ve been unbearable without one. 

The boy who’d been late was as red as a tomato, clearly embarrassed at having been singled out. You would’ve felt bad, except you knew it wouldn’t be the last time Mr. Vlad put someone on the spot. The attention could easily swing to you before the end of class.

“That’s enough chit-chat, I think.” Mr. Vlad turned towards the stereo. “We’ll start at the barre.”

No one moved and once he’d reached the music, he arched a brow. “Why is everyone still standing in the center, gawking? Barre!”

Had you been watching from outside, it might’ve seemed comical how quickly everyone scattered. You and Noelle chose a barre near the front, setting water bottles down and moving to stand at the center.

Placing yourself in first position, you turned your head and surveyed yourself in the mirror.

“Eyes on me, not the mirror!” Mr. Vlad called, forcing your gaze his way. “Before we get started, I’ll assign your ballet partners for the semester. You won’t do anything with them until across the floor, but I hate to disrupt our flow later on. When I call your name, raise your hand.”

Your heart sank as you turned to face forward.

This was something you’d known was coming. Ballet partnering was part of the set first year curriculum, but you’d been under the severe misimpression you’d be allowed to choose your own partner. Information on the process had been limited and you’d heard conflicting accounts from upperclassman before your arrival. Apparently, the teachers did something different each year.

“Ahn, Irene!”

Irene raised her hand, waiting awkwardly to hear her partner’s name.

“Olson, Brian! You two are partners.”

The red-faced late boy looked at Irene in alarm, then nodded. Irene nodded as well, lowering her hand and Noelle winced.

“Sucks,” she muttered beneath her breath. “Already paired with trouble.”

Privately, you agreed. It’d be unfortunate to be partnered with someone who’d already been singled out. You could only hope your assigned partner would be better than that. 

Mr. Vlad turned. “Y/L/N, Y/N!”

Your hand immediately lifted, waiting for what seemed like forever, until –

“Park, Jimin!”

 Author’s Note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JIMIN! Thank you for reading 😊 New chapters of Raise the Barre will be posted weekly; dates are listed on the series Master List. Requests for updates will be deleted. 

RAISE THE BARRE MASTER LIST  

© kpopfanfictrash, 2020. Do not copy or repost without permission.

#btsbookclub #smutcentralnet #bangtanarmynet #bts fanfic #jimin fanfic #bts series #jimin series #jimin writing #bts writing #bts e2l #jimin e2l

[amynchan]

"It's Easy."

Okay, but like, Rick.

The whole father/daughter rift in the family that needs to be fixed is a tried and true trope, but almost every time, the father is seen as this character that has expectations of his daughter that she’s not living up to. And our natural instinct is to view Rick in the same way.

He definitely lives up to it in the first bit, tho, doesn’t he? What, with the “failure hurts” and “will you be able to make a living like this,” it’s easy to read into that and say “why can’t you go for something stable that I know you can succeed in?” It’s easy to place him with other parents like Triton from The Little Mermaid, Elenor from Brave, and Jefferson Davis from Into the Spiderverse who just don’t understand their kids and want them to be like them. For reasons that are sound to themselves, of course, but yeah.

But Rick kinda misses something that the others have. The others seem to make their sacrifices while banking on a future where the kid succeeds, and they’d do anything to give their kids that future. There’s nothing wrong with wanting the best for your kid, and that thought process in and of itself isn’t bad, but Rick’s just a touch different, and that shows itself a good chunk into the movie with a pretty solid line: “I’d do anything for that kid.”

As an audience, we’ve been conditioned to think that that comes with conditions and expectations. “I’d do anything for that kid so they don’t have to live what I’ve gone through” or “I’d do anything for that kid if they can succeed” or even “I’d do anything for that kid for the payoff at the end.” And, tbh, I think the studio was banking on our interpretation.

By this point, the audience knows a little bit about The Moose.

We see Katie toss it in the ‘give it away’ bin, then we see Rick find it and seem kind of… disheartened that she’s gone to give it away. Later, we see video footage of when Rick actually gives her the moose. It seems like such a second-thought kinda thing that we almost don’t think twice about it. He’s a nature lover, so of course he’d have a wood carving of a moose on his dashboard. And, as an audience, we kinda don’t give much weight to Katie’s “but this is, like, your favorite thing.” To a kid, anything can be an adult’s favorite thing. It’s a sweet gesture, but it doesn’t really hold weight to us as an audience. Well, it does a bit in that it's a token of Rick's affection, but not much more than that. In this scene, the main thing is that Kiddo Katie’s reassured and that she goes off to camp and that it meant something to her at one point and might as well symbolize how far the two have drifted from one another.

Storytelling and narrative stuff. We almost expect this sorta thing in our stories at this point.

Then, later on in the movie and kinda outta no where, Linda gives us a little bit of backstory that seems so wholly unrelated. The lodge. It’s big, it’s beautiful, and it’s a dream that Rick gave up. When Katie asks “why,” the audience jumps to the conclusion: he did it for her. Why else would Linda tell her this now if not for the fact that he gave the lodge up for her?

It’s a sweet sentiment, but a lot of us know that that kind of sacrifice usually comes with expectations and a bit of guilt. “They gave up their dream for me. I have to pay them back in turn by succeeding.” It’s responsible, it’s expected, and it can be painful and pressurizing.

But then, side note, the reveal of Katie’s lie comes to light. And Rick’s face… the dude has seemed so human throughout this movie, and the whole “I am a dad with emotions and feelings and they’ve been hurt” seriously came through for me in that one moment. He wants to do his best for her, but he’s been hurt. He still tries to do his best, but yeah. Dude’s been hurt.

Seriously. Look at his face.

Look at him. He's in pain.

And then… then we see the moment in the video camera. Linda’s recording, and Rick’s saying goodbye to the lodge. He’s definitely at an acceptance stage about this. Sad, but acceptance. He breaks off The Moose from the pole out front as a keepsake, and Linda says “I know this must be hard for you.” It has to be. That lodge was his dream. He built it himself from the ground up. He carved every nook and cranny of that thing, and it had to have taken him years.

But Rick… doesn’t dwell on it. He takes a momento, sure, but he doesn’t dwell. Instead, he smiles at Linda (and the camera), the only one who’s really gonna remember this at all, and says “Nah,” before going to the car and smiling at babbling, baby Katie, who probably can’t even feed herself right yet, and says “It’s easy.”

Not “It’s not hard” or “I’ll be okay.” “It’s easy.” Also, his face?? Look at his face in this recording!! Look at it!

It’s easy for him to give up the lodge. Why? That doesn’t and shouldn’t make sense. But it doesn’t have to. Because that is Rick loving a daughter who he doesn’t expect anything out of. He’s doing it to care for her and provide for her, to give her what she needs. It’s not a call to the future of “I’ll be okay when this pays off” either. It’s a “right here, right now, this is an easy choice to make because I love my daughter.”

And I think that’s really cool. Katie didn’t get a guilt trip or a pressure of “your dad wants you to succeed and be financially independent so you’ll be okay when he’s gone” or “your dad gave up his dream so you could live yours, so just do it already.” Katie got “this is the love I have for my daughter. I have always had this love, and I will always have this love.”

The execution of it all just makes me so freaking happy.

Also, also, also! Rick and Katie don’t change themselves by the end of the film. What they do is they take a hard look at each other, recognize that the other is trying, and try to give the other what they need. They’ve loved each other and always have; they need each other and honestly always have. It just… takes a while to see that.

And, idk. I just think that’s cool. Rick's worry isn't placed as "succeed or else" that needs to change by the movie's end. I think the way the movie progresses and shows Rick as a character really contextualizes his position as "I love you and just want you to do your thing." And once Katie gets that and Rick is able to see her world a bit through the video (though he still sucks at computers lol), he's able to better support her and she's able to let him.

idk. I just really like what they did with Rick as a character and I love the fact that they developed him out of the motivation of "succeed for my sake," which is usually in there in previous iterations of this classic father/daughter struggle.

Anyways, that's just my thought on it. XD Couldn't get any work done until I wrote this down. Imma try to get work done now. XD

#The Mitchells vs The Machines #OnTheSeries

[zu-is-here]

Okay, I think I gathered and wrote down everything I have for characters of UTMV anx Hazbin Hotel crossover. I'll talk about plot later, in another ask. For now just who plays which role!

As Charlie, the princess of Hell, there are Dream and Nightmare. Yes, your eyes aren’t deceiving you, this version of Hell has two princes. Besides, ‘the princes’ sounds very similar to ‘the princess’, it’s perfect. The twins both deeply care for their people and believe they can do better, suffering from the hopelessness reigning in their home; only Nightmare hides it, while Dream is very open about it. Both look like skeletons, but are capable of going into their “corrupted forms” (which play the role of their full demon forms here), all gloop and tentacles — you know how that goes. And, of course, the princes work together to make their dream come true!

As Lucifer and Lilith, the king and the queen of Hell, there are The Curse and Nim. The original “Curse” is the entity that takes place of original Nightmare after he eats the apples and dies; I personally believe that this entity has much more of the human who killed Nim than of Nightmare, whose body and memory are merely a way to break free and drown everything in endless, absolute negativity. So The Curse and Nightmare are very much able to coexist in this crossover. And, well, original Nim created original Dream and Nightmare, so it’s only natural she’d be the princes’ mother here.

As Angel Dust, there is Ink. His job isn’t the same as Angel’s, it’s more like what Angel is doing in the comic. His boss gives him orders, Ink executes whatever they wish and gets a bit of attention and praise — the only things he craves, still desperate to just be someone, to not be forgotten. Yet he doesn’t believe he deserves it, for he’s given up on himself a long time ago (perhaps even before dying and going to Hell). Because of that Ink isn’t exactly easy to convince to stay at the Hotel and try to redeem himself, but when Cross mentions how they spent the whole day looking for a candidate and nobody would agree, that really gets a spark in Ink — maybe he really could be that somebody for these weird guys. Besides, somewhere deep inside Ink hates his destructive, cruel job. So he agrees.

As Sir Pentious, there is Error. Not that much to say here, just imagine how smug and prideful both are. And Error still has haphephobia, so, uh, let’s say dirty jokes aren’t welcome at all. Also do consider Doll Bois instead of Egg Bois of Sir Pentious! Isn’t it perfect? And besides, being Geno, Error should be smart enough to work with technology and use his strings to his advantage at the same time!

As Cherri Bomb, there is Blue. I mean, he did spike the eggnog with hardcore whiskey during the infamous Christmas Party… And he’s very different from Error, just like Cherri is different from Pentious. Plus they are both extremely good at fighting, so while my choice might seem unexpected, I’ve actually thought this through and have a quite a few points to explain my ways. Oh, and Blue uses bombs as well! That makes him Berri Bomb (;

I already mentioned that Cross takes the role of Vaggie. He’s loyal and quite passionate, both for better and for worse. He’ll protect the princes at any cost and support them with everything he can. Cross still has his huge knife (and lots of lesser ones), but shares some design details with Vaggie; particularly, all the crosses, she does have a few, just like Cross! It’s perfect once again.

As Katie Killjoy and Tom Trench, there are Edge and Red (Underfell Papyrus and Sans respectively). Red is smaller and quieter than Edge, and honestly, almost all the lines of Katie and Tom fit them perfectly. Yet again.

As Alastor, the Radio Demon, there is Killer. Although, unlike Alastor, he follows along with technological development, he is still called the Radio Demon, since it was the first thing he used to broadcast his carnage all throughout Hell just so everyone could witness his ability, and the nickname just stayed while Killer himself kept changing. Nobody knows that, but of course his powers come from a deal with a higher, much more powerful entitiy — this AU’s version of Killer’s Chara. And hate is still flowing through his sockets, and that’s unusual even in Hell itself, which adds a few points to his scary image in minds of other sinners. Also he uses a microphone that is a part of him, only it changes with time, as well as everything else in his looks. The sound is also there, especially background applauds and laugh. This mic talks in a child’s voice, and the laugh also sounds childlike, and Killer’s shadow has red glowing eyes and a broad smile, if you know what I mean (=

As Niffty, there is Murder. He’s nowhere near as energetic as Niffty, but his need to keep everything tidy and neat compensates that. He cannot stand even the smallest speck of dust or dirt. And, honestly, it’s a pun — a Sans from Dusttale is dusting and washing and everything. Besides, original Dust kind of shares fate with Killer, so I clearly see this Dust admiring this Killer.

As Husk, there is Horror. Who else would run a bar, really? What a charming smile and welcoming energy original Horror has for Aliza… And cheap food instead of cheap alcohol! Besides, the Murder Time Trio is together like that. Perfect again.

That's it for now! Thanks for your interest, and I hope you'll like this!

Thank you a lot for this message! (*'▽'*)

Both of Dream and Nightmare being the princes of Hell with their hidden corruption forms is such an interesting idea indeed! Though it was really unexpected to see The Curse as Lucifer (・∀・) But you are right about this headcanon since that man's voice telling Nightmare to become stronger was none other than that mortal (who originally killed Nim). Nevertheless, their tandem is truly a great metaphor for the king and queen of Hell ☆

As for Ink being an Angel, this role really fits our desperate boy. But Error being Sir Pentious with hos doll bois! (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵) Now I'm really confused after the previous discussion, however, considering Error's awkwardness and his bad luck, it would work just right. And Berry Bomb, oh, what a nice pun! Finally, a worthy opponent, their battle will be legendary XD

Cross as Vaggie is a direct hit for sure, even with the design, as well as Edgy with Red with their contrast personalities! ;) But what I was amazed by the most is Killer's resemblance to Alastor... And wow, thank you for calling Murder by his true name, his creators who weren't good with English would appreciate it a lot ;3; Still, such an ironic pun for him being Niffty in this crossover! And finally, for Horror being Husk, he definitely lost the ability to love years ago x)

All in all, that's perfect! (人 •͈ᴗ•͈) You did such a great analysis for each character ♡ I'm sure @help-im-a-gay-fish will enjoy it a lot too ☆

UPD:

Hii! Same here <3 Awww yay!! He would finally be such a supportive brother for Dream ;3; OMG same vibe for sure, X!Gaster using Ink for his own good,,, man *^*

WOW. I'm not even sure about this one (in a good way) since Vox is a pretty odd character just like Valentino and Alastor (ﾟ∀ﾟ) Could you please elaborate on this? *^*

Ah! I thought you meant Epic, not Epic!Gaster, sorry xd Then that's just right ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)☆

Ah sorry for this misunderstanding! Guess it's just that the time for this crossover has come for us heh (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵) And it seems like you and @help-im-a-gay-fish are on the same wave! ☆ Then again, I'm looking forward to your next message *^*

#updated #hazbin hotel #crossover #ask

[trikruismybitch]

@trikruismybitch

Dialgue Prompt List

“Oh this is nothing”

“I’ve had worse”

“Have you ever loved someone that didn’t love you back?”

“I wish I knew how to quit you.”

“I’m also just a girl standing in-front of you, asking you to love her.”

“And the last thing you will ever see will be me because I love you.”

“Because that’s what you are, that’s what you’ll always be.”

“You have to let me go. You have to let me, let you go. I need you to do that for me.”

“There’s all of this pressure to be all of these things to be fucking perfect but I’m not. I’m not fucking perfect.”

“I’ll always love you cus’ we grew up together and you helped make me who I am. I just wanted you to know there will be a piece of you in me always and I’m grateful for that.”

“I will not be the person you settle for just because you can’t have her.”

“I used to think you were the best thing that happened, but now I think you might maybe be the worst thing.”

“I told you my story and you judged me?”

“Most of the time, most days I feel nothing. I don’t feel anything. It is so boring, I wake up and I think, again? Really? I have to do this again?”

“I don’t know that I find myself anywhere.”

“You can rest now.”

“You have your mothers eyes.”

“Well I am fine, I will be fine, really.”

“(Name)? (Name) come on, you got to get up.”

“All I’ve ever wanted to be is loved.”

“Take her to the moon for me.”

“I would rather die tomorrow, then live a hundred years without you.”

“I don’t want to survive. I want to live.”

“I’m not bad, I’m just drawn that way.”

“I love her. She breaks my heart again and again, but I love her.”

“I love every broken bone in your body.”

“I miss you. I miss not touching each other. Not seeing each other, not breathing in each other. I want you all the time—no one else.”

“You never loved me. You just loved how much I loved you.”

“You don't have any idea what I have or haven't done to get to where I am.”

“I keep thinking about all the things I never said because I was so sure, there would be other days to say them.”

“What happened to us?”

“You abandoned me”

“I needed you”

“So that’s it then? Your writing me off?”

“I can’t wait around every time to pick up the pieces, every time you freak out!”

“Don’t this, ok? Don’t leave me again.”

“We are done, ok? No more surprises. No more excuses. No more chances, we’re done.”

“I think you should go. You see I love you so much I just want you to be happy, even if that happiness no longer includes me.”

“One day you’re going to have to stop pretending everything’s okay.”

“I don’t want to face my future without you.”

“All I needed was for you to tell me you felt something…and you didn’t.”

“You don’t know what I look like, when I’m not in love with you.”

“Truth is I’ve tried to stop thinking about you. But I can’t.”

“If you lay even a finger on her I swear I will make you suffer in ways even your evil mind can't imagine.”

“Deal with your jealousy. Deal with your shortcomings. Don’t put your crap on me.”

“I want so much for you. For both of us. So much more than this. More then being stuck with someone who feels stuck. I want you to feel free.”

“Don’t look at me like that. Like I’m damaged goods. I’m still me. I’m still here.”

“Tell me it isn’t true. Please. Tell me I heard wrong.”

“Please tell me your joking.”

“If you push me away I promise you, you won’t find me where you left me. My hearts big but not big enough to deal with people, who only decide to love me when it’s convenient.”

“My heart shattered in pieces when I see the way you look at them-the way you used to look at me.”

“Kiss me. Kiss me as if it were the last time.”

“My dream? My dream wouldn’t be complete without you in it.”

“Because I want you! All of you. forever.”

“I’ve realized that I don’t care if (name) is the most perfect (gender) in the world. Their not you.”

“Please don’t give up on me. Promise. Promise me you won’t.”

“When I had no one else you accepted me....and you showed me what it was like to be loved.”

“You’re my person”

“I didn’t fall in love with you because I was lost and lonely. I fell in love with you because when I bonded with you, I had finally found my home where I felt safe.”

“I love everything about you. Even the things I don’t like, I love. And I want you with me. I love you and I think you love me too. Do you?”

“You came back” “I always come back”

“If you love someone, you tell them. Even if you’re scared that it’s not the right thing. Even if you’re scared that’ll cause problems. Even if you’re scared that it will burn your life to the ground, you say it, and you say it out loud and you go from there.”

“You know I fell in love with you the first time I saw you. You’re just the most amazing beautiful girl I ever met, and I don’t know, somehow you chose me....but how I loved you then, it’s nothing compared to how I love you now. I love you with everything inside of me.”

“I don’t care where we are. I just care that we’re together, you’re my home.”

*“And honestly when I’m with her, I completely forget what I’ve done.”

“If you walk away, it’s for you because I know what I want. I want you (name), I love you.”

“I’m still mad at you because being around you drives me nuts and not being around you drives me nuts.”

“I believe that when you love someone and that person loves you in return, you’re uniquely vulnerable. They have a power to hurt you like nothing else.”

“Anybody capable of love is capable of being saved.”

“It’s not a crime to love what you cannot explain.”

“You were by my side when I needed a friend. You made me laugh. You made me dance. You told me that I would find love again… And, I understand if I have to wait for you, and I will. I’ll wait. And when you’re ready for me, I will be ready for you.”

“Love’s always going to require a huge leap of faith. A big, scary leap over a hot pit of lava. And, you might end up heartbroken, but you might be the happiest person on the face of the earth.”

“Through all of this, you’re the one thing that kept me from giving up.”

“I don’t pretend to be anything when I’m with (name), that’s the whole point. I get to be myself.”

“I would rather spend every moment in agony than erase the memory of you.”

“When it’s real you can’t walk away.”

“If it’d were my choice I’d be with you forever.”

“I’d tell you to have hope because sometimes that’s all that keeps me going.”

“They was your first love. I intend to be your last. However long it takes."

“I don't know who I am without you, but I know that as long as I'm with you, time will stand still."

“I’m not going anywhere. I’d rather burn alive than abandon you.”

“To me you’re the whole damn world.”

“You don't marry the person you can live with—you marry the person you can't live without."

"I swear I couldn’t love you more than I do right now, and yet I know I will tomorrow."

"A hundred hearts would be too few to carry all my love for you."

"My love for you is a journey, starting at forever and ending at never."

"You're something between a dream and a miracle."

"I look at you and see the rest of my life in front of my eyes."

“When I look at you, I see everything I've ever wanted."

“You are every lovely word I could think of."

"If I had a flower for every time I thought of you...I could walk through my garden forever."

"For all the things my hands have held, the best by far is you."

"If you live to be 100, I hope I live to be 100 minus one day, so I never have to live without you."

“You have made a place in my heart where I thought there was no room for anything else. You have made flowers grow where I cultivated dust and stones."

"You make me happier than I ever thought I could be and if you let me, I will spend the rest of my life trying to make you feel the same way."

"I've come here with no expectations, only to profess, now that I am at liberty to do so, that my heart is, and always will be, yours."

"What I'm trying to say, very inarticulately, is that, um, in fact, I like you, very much. Just as you are."

“It's like in that moment the whole universe existed just to bring us together."

“You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how.”

"You want the moon? Just say the word, and I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down. I’ll get you the moon.”

"I love you. You complete me."

"I think I'd miss you even if we'd never met."

“You make me want to be better.”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time. I have terrible judgment.”

“I’m surrounded be idiots.”

“It’s not my fault you dated a bunch of losers till you met me.”

“Badges? We ain’t got no badges? We don’t need no badges! I don’t have to show you any stinking badges!”

“It’s just a flesh wound”

“Your bleeding out!”

"If I wasn't terrified of heights, I'd like this. But, I'm terrified of heights, so I don't like this."

“That's it, Dishonor! Dishonor on your whole family! Dishonor on you, dishonor on your cow!"

“That’s like a big misconception. I’m not shy! I just don’t speak if I don’t have anything to say.”

“It’s not bragging if it’s true.”

“She is more like “girl with dragon tattoo" than “the girl next door”

“I will slap the taste out of your mouth.”

“Give me a mountain, I’ll climb it. Give me a Katy Perry song, I’ll sing it.”

“There is no such thing as bad ideas. Just poorly executed awesome ideas.”

“I was ambushed. I was shot. Now, I’m vengeful.”

“Kiss me or kill me. We both know you’re only capable of one.”

“I know I called you bro, but I lowkey wanna marry you.”

“If I was meant to be controlled I would’ve come with a remote.”

“I know looks aren’t everything but I have them just in case.”

“You think I’m crying about you? No I’m crying about all the time I wasted on you.”

“Do I regret it, yes. Would I do it again? Probably.”

“If you were my wife I’d put poison in your coffee.” “If you were my mine I’d drink it.”

“if you obey all the rules, you miss all the fun.”

“No I checked my receipt, I didn’t buy any of your bullshit.”

“You couldn’t handle me even if I came with instructions.”

#prompts #writing prompt #dialogue prompt #prompt list #quote prompt #fanfiction prompt #quotes #angst #sad #loving #heartbreaking #funny #serious #wise #deep

[themysteryofwriting]

5 Times Something was Wrong with Pidge and the One Time they Realized what it meant

TW: Dysphoria, Self-Doubt, Unintentional Misgendering

(A/N:This is dedicated to the person in the enby pidge tag who told me I couldn't headcanon enby Pidge. You filled me w/ enough rage to write this.)

1.

How ironic was it that it was the announcement to the team telling them that she was a girl that started Pidge’s realization.

She thought it would bring a weight off her chest, the secret she had been keeping from most of the team finally revealed.

And yet...that wasn’t the case.

All Pidge could feel was this...sinking feeling as she told them. Like there was something wrong in what she was telling them. And that sinking feeling only got worse as everyone except Lance told her that they already knew.

Pidge could tell something was wrong but she couldn’t tell what. Shouldn’t she feel better after telling them? Why did she feel so much worse instead? Pidge wasn’t a boy so...why did it feel so wrong being called a girl?

Pidge..didn’t want to think about it. She was probably overreacting. After all she had been living with nothing but guys for months and pretending to be one, that was bound to mess with her a bit.

~~

2.

Pidge tried to push down the feeling she was getting in her gut that something was off. And for the most part she succeeded.

At least she did until she walked in on Hunk and Lance talking about her.

“...I still can’t believe I didn’t realize Pidge was a girl Hunk,” Lance groaned, complaining to his fellow Paladin, “I mean it’s soo obvious now, I should have realized she was a girl back in the Garrison.”

Lance clearly hadn’t noticed Pidge yet, as Pidge was pretty sure he wouldn’t be saying this if he knew that she was right behind her.

But as she heard Lance talking, she froze as the sinking feeling returned with a passion. If she had thought it had felt bad telling everyone she was a girl, that was nothing compared to hearing Lance call her a girl.

Pidge had planned to get a drink from the kitchen, but they had to go through the common room to do that and they just...couldn’t. Not with this terrible sinking feeling in her stomach.

Pidge quickly walked away, not even noticing the two had stopped talking and someone was calling out to her.

Wanting to ignore the weird feeling in her chest, Pidge threw herself into some projects. It was easy to forget about what she was feeling when she was working on things.

~~

3.

It was maybe too easy sometimes that she tended to forget to keep track of time when she was working on stuff.

She hadn’t even noticed how late it was until Shiro came into the lab.

“Pidge, how long have you been working,” Shiro called as they walked in, making Pidge jump a little.

“Uhhh I think it’s only been an hour or two,” Pidge lied, hoping Shiro would buy it.

But glancing back at Shiro, Pidge could tell that wasn’t the case.

“Pidge, it’s late, bedtime.”

Pidge groaned, but listened, knowing Shiro would make her if she didn’t, and headed to her room to get ready for bed.

Pidge sighed as they went to change into some more comfy clothes to sleep in. As the started to change they glanced over at the mirror and the weird feeling they had started moving on from their stomach, instead crawling all over their skin.

Wanting the feeling to go away, they quickly shoved the hoodie they were planning on sleeping in.

Immediately the feeling went away, leaving Pidge with a question as they headed to bed.

How long had it been since they were last able to look at themselves in the mirror?

Pidge shook it off, it was probably nothing, and besides she needed to head to bed before Shiro actually came in to check on her like he tended to do when he was worried people weren’t taking care of themselves.

~~

4.

The next day, Pidge was planning on heading back to the lab, after all they didn’t want to think about...whatever happened yesterday anymore than they had to.

And it wasn’t like anyone was going to treat her differently now that she had told them she was a girl right?

As it turned out, the answer to that was a no as Allura came to talk to her while she was eating breakfast.

“Oh Pidge! Good you’re here!”

Pidge flinched a little, having not heard Allura approach. Why did the Alteans have to be so fucking quiet all the time.

“Is there something you need Allura,” Pidge asked, then wincing slightly at how blunt that was, “Sorry I didn't get much sleep last night.”

Wasn’t a complete lie. Pidge had tossed and turned a bit last night, thinking over the weird feeling they kept getting.

Allura nodded in understanding. She probably thought it was nightmares, not whatever Pidge was dealing with.

“Anyways I was thinking, I saw in some of your pictures that you liked to wear dresses when you were younger. I was wondering if you’d like some of my old ones.”

Pidge hesitated for a second. Something about the idea of wearing dresses again felt...wrong to them.

But Allura looked so hopeful and Pidge didn’t want to let her down. Maybe she could just take them and wear them later if she was in the mood?

“Uh sure, I don’t see why not,” Pidge said after a moment.

Allura seemed to light up. “Great, then you can try some on real quick to see if they fit?” Fuck. Pidge couldn’t help but feel like she didn’t have a choice here. “...Right.”

Allura beamed and dragged Pidge along to grab the dresses. Pidge had a sinking feeling that there wasn’t going to be an easy way out of this.

Once they got to Allura’s room, Allura dug out some of the dresses that she had been talking about and handed them over to Pidge. “Hoefully these will work for you, you can try them on in the bathroom over there.”

“Right,” Pidge said, muttering under their breath slightly as they headed to the bathroom. Hopefully just one would appease Allura so Pidge wouldn’t be here all day.

Pidge sighed as they quickly got changed. Just one to appease Allura and then everything would be fine.

At least that’s what Pidge thought until she actually got the dress on and suddenly everything felt so wrong.

She glanced in the mirror after getting the dress on and could feel her skin crawling. All she wanted to do was get this damn dress off.

But why? She had been fine wearing dresses before? Why did she now just want to tear this dress off and never look at it again?

Pidge flinched upon hearing the knock on the door. “Pidge, is everything okay in there?”

“Sorry, I just got a bit distracted,” Pidge called. She hesitated for a second before adding something on. ‘I think this dress is a bit too small for me.”

Pidge hadn’t even realized that as they put it on, but it was clear now. Why else would it feel so tight? Plus it would explain why Pidge wanted to get it off as soon as possible.

“Well I’m sure I have some bigger dresses.”

“Thank you for the offer Allura,” Pidge said, quickly changing back into some more comfortable clothes, but I have work I need to be doing.” As she said this she handed the dresses back to Allura and got out of there as quickly as she could.

~~

5.

Alright enough was enough. Something was up with Pidge. She wasn’t sure what it was but enough stuff had happened in the past few days that she could tell something wasn’t right.

After some pacing, and trying to see if she could figure out what the fuck was going on on her own, she turned to Google.

Well it wasn’t technically Google, giving they were lightyears from Earth and most certainly not close enough for Google to work

It was more like a Space version of Google that Pidge had worked on to make sure it was a language she could understand.

She wasn’t sure exactly what to look up at first, so many different things had been going on recently that she wasn’t sure exactly she was looking for.

After a bit of debate, she decided to just look up everything she’d been feeling recently and hope that something clicked.

After a wild goose chase that Pidge had needed to take a break to eat in the middle of, she found something.

It was a single word but it kep popping up so Pidge figured she should look it up.

“Nonbinary,” she muttered to herself, reading the definition out loud. “an umbrella term for gender identities that are neither male nor female‍ or identities that are outside the gender binary.”

That had to be a coincidence. Pidge had been a girl for the longest time, she would have realized by now if she was nonbinary.

And besides she had been fine getting called a girl before this. She was just being weird now, nothing more than that.

Pidge closed her laptop and walked off, needing to get some fresh air. She really needed to figure out what was going on with her before it started interfering with stuff.

~~

+1

Pidge probably should have realized that people would start to worry about her when she disappeared all of a sudden. She had just needed some alone time to figure stuff out.

That was kind of ruined when Shiro entered. “There you are Pidge,” Shiro sighed in relief. “Everyone’s been looking for you.”

Had it really been that long since she had come out here? “Sorry Shiro, I didn’t mean to worry you guys.”

If it had been anyone else, they would have brushed it off and just let the others know where Pidge was.

Shiro wasn’t just anyone however, and he could tell when people weren't okay.

“Katie, is everything alright?”

The second Pidge heard her real name leave Shiro’s mouth, she flinched. She didn’t understand why but it was...instinctive.

Katie was still her name, even if she preferred to go by Pidge so why did she flinch?

“What’s wrong with me,” Pidge muttered to herself.

Shiro, if he hadn’t been worried before, was definitely worried now.

“K-,” Shiro stopped himself before calling Pidge Katie again. He probably had noticed her flinch when he called her that before. “Pidge, you know you can tell me anything.”

“If I knew what was going on with me, you’d be the first to know Shiro,” Pidge said, “But honestly, I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me.”

Pidge was half expecting Shiro to call her out on her cursing. But apparently Shiro knew she needed to get it out.

“Why don’t you explain to me everything that’s been going on recently and maybe I can help.”

Hearing Shiro’s words, Pidge spilled everything they’d been feeling recently. All of the weird feelings they’d been getting for seemingly no reason and how everything just felt so wrong.

Shiro paused before speaking. “Pidge, I know you dismissed it before, but what you’re describing sounds like you might be nonbinary.”

Pidge wanted to dismiss it but she (they?) hesitated. It was one thing for Pidge to think that but for Shiro to think so to. Could she….could they be nonbinary?

“..I’ll let the others know you’re okay Pidge, I know you’ll need some time to think this over.”

If Shiro’s talk with Pidge led to them coming out to the team a second time, well that was no one’s business but Pidge’s.

~Bonus~

Pidge was on their way back to the lab after finally getting that weight off their chest. The others all accepted them, though they had to explain to Allura and Coran exactly what nonbinary meant.

Before they got too far though, they heard someone calling out to them. “Pidge! Hold on a second.”

Pidge turned around to see Lance running to catch up to them. “Hey Lance, what’s up?”

Lance took a second to catch their breath before speaking. “I wanted to apologize for earlier, when you overheard me talking to Hunk.”

Pidge hadn’t even realized Lance had noticed them standing there. Then again, thinking back on it the two had gone quiet right before they ran off. “Lance it’s fine you didn’t k-”

“Pidge, it's not fine, it really hurt you. I know if I had been in your position, someone complaining about not realizing my gender, it would have really hurt me.”

Pidge blinked a bit at that, the way Lance had said that...it sounded like he was speaking from experience.

“Lance...are you?”

Lance hesitated slightly. “Kind of? I’m not cis if that’s what you’re asking. But uh...I’m trans ftm, not nonbinary. And I know how much it hurts to be misgendered.”

Pidge thought about how weird it had felt being called she and nodded. “I forgive you Lance. Besides I know you couldn’t have known so you didn’t have to apologize.”

Lance grinned. “What can I say, us non-cis folk have to stick together.”

Pidge snickered a bit at that. “I guess you’re right.”

#nonbinary pidge #pidge holt #lance mcclain #hunk garrett #shiro takashi #allura #voltron #trans lance #dsyphoria #misgendering #it's not intentional tho! #self-doubt

[honeydvew]

what's the biggest life decision (you feel comfortable saying) that you've ever made? do you ever think about what would've happened if you hadn't made a certain choice/how it would've affected your life?

canofworms0 downloading tumblr. i know that sounds stupid but honestly its real. im not allowed to have anything else in regards to social media. not instagram, not twitter, not snapchat, not tik tok, nothing. my mother knows i have tumblr so i dont know why she doesnt make me delete it (but it might have to do with the fact she thinks its like deviant art or smth) but im so glad she doesnt. as social-media-addicted-teenager as this sounds without tumblr my life would fucking suk right now. i wouldnt have the things i do and i wouldnt be as happy. and i can give you examples.

lets go in order of events shall we :)

1. i downloaded tumblr some time last year (around may i think) and i immediately found a blog i liked! they were a 13yo like me they shared some of my interests and they seemed really cool! so i followed them. i dont know this blogs current @ but im so lucky i ever found them. a month or so later they posted about a server! it was a community server that they and some friends were in. i joined. thats where i met @starry-baby-katie and @gayishgothamite. and i love those dorks (affectionate)! we might not talk very offten but i think of them as people who are SO important to me. i love them with my whole soul and i dont know if my life would be as bright without them.

2. around 11/5 of last year i was scrolling through tumblr like usual. i saw an add for a server. at that point i was in maybe three servers on discord and didnt have many friends so i thought you know why not! its a mental health server and i wasnt in the best place maybe could benefit from it a bit. i joined and there were maybe 14 members including the mods. we didnt really think the server would go much of anywhere for a while and i honestly didnt interact much for a while but you know what. now that server is such a huge part of my life i dont think i would be here without it. i mean i love every last person there so much. literally all of them. @the-final-braincell bun bun is honestly one of the best people ive ever met. they’re funny and joyful and just the best to be around. talking to them always cheers me up and she always manages to make me laugh. were on the mod team together and she is such an important part of the team that we wouldnt run as smoothly as we do without her. i love them so so much and if i hadnt gotten tumblr? would never have met them. then theres @sir-tigerr. tiger. just. tiger. hes so amazing and i honestly would die for him. i love him so much and just talking to him can make my day. i wouldnt be as happy and the sever wouldnt be as fun without him. and @reallyradrat server owner :) sammy im so grateful for sammys existence just.. overall. they made the sever. they wrote the add post. and they’re such a good friend. i cant imagine not having them in my life they’ve made such a difference. so just... thank you <3 and @tiredconfusedandgay!! cub!! i love them!! theyre such a joy to be around and them being in the server is such a lucky thing! it wouldnt be as fun and bright of a place without them and they bring so much every time and i love seeing them in chat everyday. and with leo comes @canofworms0 baby child. anni is so amazing. just overall. so happy and funny and just an amazing person to be around and im so happy to have them in the server. @lentil-darling !!! kittycat!!! i love them!! they're so amazing and have helped me through things on more than one occasion and I'm so grateful for that and for them. they're such a good friend and i always have such a good time whenever we vc! its honestly something i look forward to! and speaking of VCs @gayest-unicorn is amazing. VCing with them is so fun and i hope we can do it more often. and on top of that just messaging them is great! and they're puns (ouns ;)/ij)? FANTASTIC! i hate puns by most means but whenever they crack a joke it makes my day 4000 times better. he's just amazing and i think he deserves the world. cant say enough praise to him :) so i low key have to speedrun this bc im running out of time to type this but all of these people also deserve the world and i wouldnt know them if it wasnt for tumblr @smoll-lightning-bug  @totally-tater-tot @savemycrustysoul @a-broken-laptop @nantuckets-weaver @undead-mutt  @hufflepuff-pide-honey-badger @human331279 and just so so many more whos @s i didnt get or couldnt find. i am so grateful to have in my life because of this server and that post. that post literally changed my life forever and i cant imagine my life without it and without these people

3. a few months went by and i made some mutuals and friends and whatnot. my at the time friend irl then made an account. i was really excited! why wouldnt i be! friend made account! awesome! but another thing about that? i had a crush on them.. and they could now see my account. but fuck it it was a great trade off. we spent a lot of time sending each other asks and messaging while in quarantine and it was just great. then i saw an ask game and i rebloged it. i realized this ask game said “♻ are we a qpp or what?” as one of the asks. now im a coward and i could NEVER have done this outside tumblr in anyway but i took the chance. i sent them the post and said “you should rb this! you have followers that would interact im sure” and so.. they did. i sent the ask and they said yes :) five months later and we’re still dating. whos this amazing person? that my friend would be @mossofthecosmos the most amazing person ive ever met. theyre the light of my life and if it werent for tumblr i would still be a blushy, semi-verbal, embarrassed, mess around them. and we wouldnt be dating. i cant even imagine what that would be like. i love them so much and they make every day wroth living for me and if it werent for tumblr, i wouldnt have that. 

4. and ive made friends. so many of them. and i love them all so much! i dont talk to a few anymore but for the while we did they made my days and made me so happy. without tumblr i wouldnt have met @mimekyo or @books-andbiscuits who are both people that have made my life a brighter place! 

okay so i cried writing this and i cried HARD

bottom line nonie? this question is so loaded it took me three hours to write an answer and a stupid amount of words that no one will read all the way through

i cant put it into words but this website is one of the best things that ever happened to me and i cant imagine life without it 

#this was for the honesty hour and i dont think nonie wanted this much honesty akjfsdhasd #asks #anon #important #wholesome

[gins-potter]

One Chicago Rewatch Extravaganza

02/03/22

Fire 2x03

Fire 2x04

Fire 2x05

Fire 2x06

Fire 2x07

Fire 2x08

thoughts under the cut

Fire - 2x03 Defcon 1

“wait is [your friend] hot?” “she’s straight” *sad face* big mood shay

i love how bad they try to make it seem like jeff is the mole and then nope turns out it’s this random other guy

jeez griffin is such a fucking shithead lmao

i still sound it so bullshit that gabby comes into the meeting about griffin, says basically the stuff that matt was saying but because it comes from her it’s supposedly so much better

wow capp has changed so much over the seasons, he definitely wasn’t the comic relief as much as he is now

not otis mixing up cinnamon and cumin

you know i liked isabella and mills, kinda sad that petered out

tbf jeff doesn’t help make himself look innocent either

severide randomly hooking up with zoya - rip

the saltine cracker challenge i’m fucking dead

oh the drama of dawson finding out about jay

Fire - 2x04 A Nuisance Call

dang that silence after darryl shoots himself where all you can hear is shay’s gasp is just - a very powerful choice

gad dawson is at her worst in this scene

herrmann doing pushups on the table is amazing lmao

not the squad guys casually breaking into hadley’s car

ANTONIO!

I love this theme - I think it eventually becomes the Dawsey theme but it started out as just a general Chicago Fire theme and its really pretty

eugh this bitch

what’s her name?

Fire - 2x05 A Power Move

boden telling mcleod to kiss his ass - fucking go off chief!!!!!!!!!!!!

mills asking if he still have to cook for the mole lt. lmao

it kinda pisses me off that they did with this with shay and then killed her off like less than a season later

also hurl at mills having to fin this victim’s toes

holy crap shay throwing her drink at the chick who cut her off - both worrying and iconic

ooooof i love this story jeff tells

lmao love all the transfer paperwork they give the mole lt.

mills calling isabella gabby - i would tear my own face off sdfghjkl;’

pft severide turning down zoya wanting to marry him and then going off and having a vegas wedding literally the next season

oh god could you imagine benny as chief - fucking disaster

oh my god hermmann vs casey fitness screech

ohhhhhhhh yeah Devon - that’s her name

rip gameday i guess

Fire - 2x06 Joyriding

i like seeing jeff in control, he would have been a good lt.

awwwww poor sweet little nathan as bryna and gina call him

kelly really is hella good with kids though

god devon is so fucked

can’t believe that’s the firs time we got to hear “this is detective jay halstead” be still my beating heart

oh the wall of badges scene always breaks my heart

Fire - 2x07 No Regrets

Katie!!!!!

Also lol at Severide thinking Katie was dating Benny

I miss Katie, can they bring her back?

ok i don’t love ingrid but she’s so cute with all of 51

oh i just realised what ep this was - i fucking love this one

honestly this episode is just perfection - i love it so much

Fire- 2x08 Rhymes with Shout

otis thinking buying fandom merch is the same as buying stocks fucking dead

everyone insisting on calling him choot will never not be funny to me

“can she just die in a car crash already?” - my mum about mcleod

“she’s messing with my man boden” - my mum after i told her that was a fucked thing to say

“alright i don’t like [voight] anymore” - my mum after voight threatens cruz over flaco

okay but part of dawson’s problem is that she’s constantly vindicated by everyone around her, literally no one ever actually says, girl you fucked up, when she did

ah see now it’s becoming the dawsey theme

was there every any confirmation if isabella did invite mills to that part because he’s black or was it left kind of vague?

“she’s in my bookclub” mouch i love you

lmao i totally forgot joe proposed to zoya and she said yes lmaoooooooo

and now dawsey are together...

alright i guess *le shrug*

#one chicago #one chicago rewatch extravaganza

[tigerkirby215]

5e Quinn, Demacia's Wings build (League of Legends)

(Artwork by Katie "TeaTime" De Sousa. Made for Riot Games.)

lol who gives a shit about Quinn?

I do. I do Riot. :(

Honestly while I haven’t played Quinn in awhile I still think she’s an extremely fun champion, and not just because you get to bully the enemy top laner with discount Vayne. Quinn has a very unique playstyle that’s so different from every other champ in the game which makes her real refreshing to play after sticking to other champs for an extended period of time.

But let’s be real the main reason I’m making a Quinn build is so I can have a cheat day. I mean she’s obviously just a Beastmaster Ranger, right?

GOALS

Valor, to me! - Burd up! I really wish that Quinn was called “Quinn and Valor” in game.

Stick to the plan, Val - When the going gets tough it helps to be a swift scout, dashing around the enemy and vaulting off them if they get too close.

I'd keep my head down if I were you - While it’s perhaps not the first thing that comes to mind Quinn is known for letting down a volley of arrows when she first engages with Valor on her back.

RACE

League of humans, at least until I go back to Ionia to make more furries. Regardless we’ll be switching it up a bit with a Mark of Finding Dragonmark from Eberron! You get a +2 to Dexterity and +1 to an ability score of your choice: I went for Charisma because “League of Legends female body types.”

You get an early set of boots with the Mark of Finding, since Courier’s Speed increases your base movement speed to 35 feet. And to help with backflips Intuitive Motion will let you add a d4 to your Acrobatics checks (or your Land Vehicle checks, but I’d perhaps discuss with your DM to change that to Air Vehicles instead?) But most importantly you get Magical Passage for a one-time use of Misty Step, for Flash!

IF DRAGONMARKS AREN’T ALLOWED: A Variant Human works fine. Take a +1 to Dexterity and Charisma and the Crossbow Expert feat a little earlier than usual.

ABILITY SCORES

15; DEXTERITY - Dexterity is tied to shooting and back flips, both of which you’ll be doing a lot of.

14; WISDOM - You have a bird’s eye view; the best advantage.

13; CHARISMA - This is partially because “League of Legends female body types” but mostly for multiclassing.

12; CONSTITUTION - Demacians are no easy prey, and spending so much time behind enemy lines has made you sturdier than most.

10; INTELLIGENCE - Intelligence is tied to military tactics among other things.

8; STRENGTH - This is partially because “League of Legends female body types” but mostly for multiclassing because we don’t need it over the other stats.

Feel free to swap Wisdom and Constitution if you want worse skill checks but better durability.

BACKGROUND

We’ll be going for Faction Agent not because it fits best but because it has the abilities that make the most sense. I’m sure you could refer to the Demacian Scouts as a faction after all. Regardless you get proficiency in Insight along with one WIS, INT, or CHA skill of your choice: I opted for Perception for that bird’s eye view. You also get proficiency in two languages so once again pick your poison.

The main reason we opted for Faction Agent was for access to a Safe Haven behind enemy lines. You can always find insiders to give you a place to hide, or to give you information. Not that Val needs any help finding people. "Sometimes I swear that bird is just showing off."

(Artwork made for Riot Games.)

THE BUILD

LEVEL 1 - ROGUE 1

Starting off as a Rogue for the skill proficiencies primarily. Acrobatics and Stealth are the two main ones we want but I’d also recommend Investigation and Intimidation. (Persuasion may be more useful in the average campaign but it doesn’t fit Quinn well feel free to build the character however you want but I focus on making the character as lore accurate and gameplay accurate as possible.) Anyways as a Rogue you also get Expertise in two skills: I’d recommend buffing your Perception right out the gate, as well as your Stealth because... it’ll be useful as a Rogue I assure you.

Rogues can chat with spies and infiltrators behind enemy lines thanks to Thieves’ Cant, a mixture of words and phrases that don’t actually mean what they sound like. But of course what we’re really here for as a Rogue is good ol’ Sneak Attack, for a d6 if you sneak attack an enemy (duh) or if Val (or another ally) is distracting them.

I’m going to briefly mention what weapons you’re probably going to want to start out with: a Hand Crossbow is an obvious must but until about level 6 or so you can honestly just stick to a Light Crossbow to do more damage at a better range early on.

LEVEL 2 - ROGUE 2

Second level Rogues can further abuse their range thanks to Cunning Action, letting them Dash, Disengage, or Hide as a Bonus Action. Play around bushes to get the jump on your Harrier marks.

LEVEL 3 - BARD 1

Seeing as Bards are good at everything we’ll be taking some Bard levels. As a Bard you get proficiency in one skill as well as a musical instrument: pick whatever instrument you prefer and I’d of course take Animal Handling to take care of Valor.

You also get Bardic Inspiration to tell your allies of information you scouted ahead with your bonus action, letting them add an extra d6 to skill checks, attack rolls, and saving throws that they know are coming. You have a number of inspirations equal to your Charisma modifier, and regain all expended inspiration die at the end of a long rest.

But of course the main boon from being a Bard is access to Spellcasting! You get two cantrips from the Bard list: Light will let you see with your dumb human eyes, and Message will let you chat with your team behind enemy lines. You also get four first level spells from the Bard list: Animal Friendship is kinda an obvious one, as is Speak with Animals. Other than that Heroism will help you (or your allies) keep their cool behind enemy lines, and Color Spray (ty Tasha’s) will let Valor blind your foes so you can get away!

LEVEL 4 - BARD 2

Second level Bards get Jack of All Trades, letting you flex into whatever role your party may need. You also get Song of Rest to heal for an extra d6 of health during short rests to patch yourself up after getting into a scrap. And finally Tasha’s gave you Magical Inspiration, letting your allies with Bardic Inspiration add a roll on their inspiration die to the damage or healing of a spell.

You also learn another first level spell like Feather Fall, in case Valor needs to drop you.

LEVEL 5 - BARD 3

Third level Bards get Expertise in two skills: Acrobatics proficiency is a requirement for backflips, and Animal Handling would be good to handle Valor. (But more realistically expertise in Insight or Investigation would be more useful.)

But more importantly we can finally get some combat ability out of the Bard! The College of Swords gives you proficiency with medium armor and shields, neither of which we really need. It also gives you a Fighting Style you won’t use with a Hand Crossbow, but Dueling is probably better for your purposes.

What we’re mainly here for is Blade Flourish, which despite the name works on ranged attacks! When you take the attack action on your turn Harrier will increase your movement speed by 10 feet, and once per turn you can use one of the following Blade Flourishes:

Defensive Flourish increases the damage of the shot by a roll of your Bardic Inspiration and let you add the number to your AC as Valor makes it harder for the enemy to hit you.

Slashing Flourish will let you pick up a Runaan's Hurricane to deal extra damage to the target and everyone within 5 feet of them.

Mobile Flourish lets you vault off an enemy, dealing extra damage equal to a roll of your Bardic Inspiration and pushing them back a number of feet equal to 5 plus whatever you rolled on your Bardic Inspiration. If you want you can then use your reaction to run up to them, but I don’t know why you’d want to do that.

Basically no matter what your Blade Flourish does extra damage equal to your Bardic Inspiration, and you can choose to either make yourself harder to hit, do AoE damage, or push the enemy away. Oh and you can now learn second level spells like Animal Messenger so Val can get important information back to Demacia.

(Artwork by Michelle Hoefener. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 6 - BARD 4

4th level Bards get the first of many Ability Score Improvements but we’re actually going to take a Feat: the Crossbow Expert feat will let you ignore the Loading property of crossbows to attack more than once on your turn, attack in melee range without disadvantage, but most importantly if you attack with your hand crossbow you can make one more attack with your bonus action!

You also learn another spell, and another cantrip! For your cantrip Minor Illusion is great to make a distraction, and for your leveled spell Locate Object will help if you need to find an important artifact belonging to the enemy. Are there more useful spells? Yes, but I’m building what would make the most sense for Quinn as a character. Feel free to take Heat Metal or Lesser Restoration as you’re allowed to change my builds however you want.

LEVEL 7 - BARD 5

Grabbing the 5th level of Bard for Font of Inspiration, letting your Bardic Inspiration (and Blade Flourishes!) come back after a Short Rest. Which is good because your Bardic Inspiration increases to a d8!

You can also learn third level spells like Leomund’s Tiny Hut for a safe place to rest after a long combat.

LEVEL 8 - BARD 6

But of course the 6th level of Bard wouldn’t hurt, as you’d now get an Extra Attack from the College of Swords! You can also learn another third level spell like Sending to send information more directly. Again: feel free to take spells that you feel are more practical if you wish.

(Artwork by SixMoreVodka Studios. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 9 - ROGUE 3

Going back to Rogue to get our Scouting badge, specifically with the Scout subclass! You get to officially be classified as a Skirmisher, and can move half your movement speed if an enemy ends their turn within 5 feet of you. This movement doesn’t provoke opportunity attacks either, so I’d flavor it as you vaulting off the foe to safety.

You’re also a natural Survivalist, with Expertise in the Nature and Survival skills. That’s why we didn’t get Survival proficiency earlier! And to top it off your Sneak Attack increases to 2d6.

LEVEL 10 - ROGUE 4

4th level Rogues get another Ability Score Improvement, and we’ve been sitting on an uneven Dexterity score for awhile now. So the Piercer feat will let you increase your Dexterity by 1 while also augmenting your skills with a Light Crossbow, allowing you to reroll the damage die of one of your attacks and deal triple damage if you crit!

I’d discuss with your DM if your Blade Flourishes count as “weapon damage die” for the sake of Piercer, because if they do you’ll likely get a lot more value out of this feat. If not well... it’s still useful regardless!

(Artwork by bekkomi on DeviantArt.)

LEVEL 11 - BARD 7

Quickly going back to Bard for some 4th level spell slots to cast spells like Dimension Door to quickly get out of danger.

LEVEL 12 - BARD 8

But of course the 8th level of Bard will get you some more Ability Score Improvements: more Dexterity will mean deadlier shots and more AC. And you can learn another 4th level spell like Freedom of Movement to get out of sticky situations.

LEVEL 13 - BARD 9

9th level Bards get to pretend that a d8 Song of Rest die by total level 14 is valuable. You do at least get 5th level spells like Rary's Telepathic Bond to keep communication up with your team.

LEVEL 14 - BARD 10

But what we’re mainly here for is the 10th level of Bard. To start off you get Expertise in two more skills: Insight and Investigation would both be the most practical choices. Your Bardic Inspiration also increases to a d10, which means that your Blade Flourishes increase to a d10 as well!

But far more importantly you get Magical Secrets, and hey look by total level 15 we finally got Valor! Summon Beast will let you summon a beast of land, sea, or (most realistically) air to fight alongside you! The flying beast has a 60 foot flying speed, Flyby (which lets it avoid attacks of opportunity), and can attack using your spell attack modifier to deal damage equal to a d8 + 4 + the level of the spell slot you used to cast this spell. It’s only a second level spell but it gets quite strong when upcast, so you can choose how strong you want Valor to be!

Alternatively if you want to fly Behind Enemy Lines, look no further than Fly! It gives you a 60 foot flying speed, plain and simple! And if you upcast it Valor can even bring a friend, or several friends!

You can also learn another cantrip like Mending, because it’s good to keep your armor in check as well as your falconer’s glove.

LEVEL 15 - BARD 11

Seeing as we got Valor we may as well grab a few more small things from Bard. 11th level Bards get 6th level spells like Find the Path, to find the path to the objective. Again: feel free to take more practical spells I am merely taking what makes sense for Quinn.

LEVEL 16 - BARD 12

12th level Bards don’t get new spells but they do get Ability Score Improvements. I’ll leave you with a choice: more Charisma will increase your Bard saving throw DCs (and Valor’s hit chance) as well as give you more Blade Floruishes, but the Sharpshooter feat will let you consistently add more damage to your shots while also ignoring range limitations and cover.

(Artwork by Ina Wong and West Studios. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 17 - BARD 13

Grabbing 7th level spells from the 13th level of Bard like Teleport, to recall back to base when needed. You also get to pretend that a d10 Song of Rest die by total level 18 is majorly impactful.

LEVEL 18 - BARD 14

14th level Swords Bards get the Master’s Flourish, letting you make a Blade Flourish every turn without spending a Bardic Inspiration, as long as you make your Blade Flourish a d6 instead.

But you also get two more Magical Secrets! To call down a Skystrike try Steel Wind Strike, which will damage up to 5 creates in the area and also let you teleport to one of them after using it. Your other spell doesn’t really matter much so... I dunno. Blindness / Deafness so Valor can make a Blinding Assault? Again feel free to make your own choices to customize the build.

LEVEL 19 - BARD 15

We’ll be stopping at the 15th level of Bard for a d12 Bardic Inspiration, as well as an 8th level spell like Feeblemind to weaken an enemy beyond any capability of fighting.

LEVEL 20 - BARD 16

But we may as well grab one more Bard level for one last Ability Score Improvement. Again up to you if you want to cap out that Charisma modifier or take Sharpshooter for some more damage.

Now that that’s done it’s time for some Ranger levels! Oh wait...

WHY NO RANGER LEVELS? - Put simply it would’ve been very hard to get Quinn’s unique skill set without some weird multiclassing shenanigans or a Bard investment. The three things I needed for Quinn were the following:

* Bird companion (Ranger or Druid)

* Flight (Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard, Artificer, or some weird stretches of logic like “be a Druid and turn into a bird to fly lol.”)

* Skystrike (either Conjure Barrage [bad] on Ranger or Battle Smith Artificer, or Steel Wind Strike on [high level] Ranger or Wizard)

Put simply there was no combination of subclasses that wouldn’t result in weird mix of classes other than Bard. Add in the fact that I really wanted Scout Rogue levels as well as Crossbow Expert (both of which would conflict with Beast Master Ranger) and Bard seemed like the most logical course of action.

The sad truth is that in all honesty Quinn doesn’t even use Valor that much in her kit is kinda the main thing. I wanted to prioritize the crossbow shooting of Quinn more than anything. If you want a more traditional Quinn build that prioritizes the Bird then Scout Rogue 8 / Beastmaster 12 (using Tasha’s Beastmaster companions) will give you more bird and just about everything that this build did minus the flight. (If you build like this I’d also recommend dropping Crossbow Expert and simply opting for a Longbow, or seeing if you can get an Artificer teammate to make you a Repeating Heavy Crossbow.)

If you really want flight and are willing to stretch your imagination then Scout 4 / Drake Warden (UA) 16 gets Perfected Bond by Ranger level 15, allowing you to ride the flying mount. Yes you’ll have a Fireproof Valor but you can just call that Phoenix Quinn.

Of course all of this can be avoided if your DM either gives you a magic item that provides Flight or lets you put Fly on the Ranger spell list. The golden rule is to always discuss with your DM if you have a particular vision in mind, or else accept the sacrifices you’ll have to make for practicality.

FINAL BUILD

PROS

Just like hunting thresher geese - 3 hand crossbow attacks per round with a 3d6 Sneak Attack and a d6 (or d12) Blade Flourish adds up to some pretty decent damage per round overall, and that isn’t even considering Sharpshooter.

I'll follow your lead, Valor - Most of your spellcasting is utility based, meaning that you don’t need to worry about your spellcasting modifier. And hey: we got Valor without having to go for Beastmaster Ranger!

Buy me some time - Mixing Bard and Rogue together means that you have proficiency in quite a lot of skills! Expertise in 8 total skills, proficiency in one more, and Jack of All Trades for the remaining skills. You can fill any role that the party may need!

CONS

Look Val; snacks - It takes us quite awhile to get Valor; some would argue too long. Put simply there’s very little way for us to get the very specific spell list required for Quinn (Summon Beast, Fly, Steel Wind Strike) without doing some weird multiclassing shenanigans. You could go Lore Bard if you want to get access to Summon Beast and Fly faster (Scout 3 / Lore 6 = basically everything to play Quinn by total level 9) but then you’d miss out on Extra Attack among other things.

Still heart, steady aim - Low Constitution along with a d8 hit die really doesn’t do you any favors. You’ll likely have a little over 100 health, which means that it won’t take much effort to put you in Power Word Kill range.

Who's there? Jarvan who? - Honestly our Charisma is low for a Bard, and while most of the spells we took are utility based it still sucks to only have two Blade Flourishes. Feel free to use Point Buy instead for some better starting stats and less in those fairly pointless stats like Intelligence. (8 / 15 / 12 / 8 / 13 / 15 would be my recommendation to have the best Charisma you can get while still having decent Wisdom to boot.)

But your job is to scout: any kills you pick up on the way are a nice bonus. Soften the enemies up with Valor by your side and do what needs to be done to win the war without the enemy knowing you’re there. Fight differently, fight dirty, and remember that no matter what at least you’re not playing Vayne top.

(Artwork by Xu “Crow God” Cheng. Made for Riot Games.)

#DnD 5e #dnd build #dnd guide #dnd #League of Legends #League of Legends Quinn #League of Legends Valor #League of Legends Quinn and Valor #Quinn #Valor #Quinn & Valor #dnd rogue #dnd bard #dnd ranger? #bird up

[electrictoes]

Maybe We Could Be

For @dailysvu's Amanda Rollins Week

Day 3: Friends to Lovers Characters: Amanda Rollins, Sonny Carisi, Minor OCs Relationship: Amanda Rollins / Sonny Carisi Warnings: None

Read on AO3

Amanda had a problem - it was a small, solvable problem, and she even had a plan for how to deal with it. Step one, though, was convincing Sonny to go along with it. Four years ago, she thinks, he would’ve jumped at opportunity, but now he was frowning at her across the room. “You want me to lie to your cousin?”

She crossed the short distance from the door to sit in the chair opposite him. “It’s not actually lying, you know,” she said.

“I think it technically is,” Carisi countered, looking over at her from behind his desk.

Amanda leaned forward on the desk, all but fluttering her eyelashes him, “Think of it as going undercover.”

“I’m not a cop anymore,” Sonny told her, leaning back in his chair. 

“What, so you’ve forgotten how to do it, is that what you’re saying?” She grinned at him like it was a challenge, but he didn’t take the bait.

“No, but this isn’t going undercover.”

“Sure it is - you’re undercover as my boyfriend.” Amanda caught the way his expression changed - almost minutely, his eyes widening slightly, his mouth dropping open for a microsecond before he closed it. “Come on, Dominick, please?”

He sighed, sitting upright. “I’m not sayin' no, I’m just sayin' it’s lying and I don’t know why you want to pretend to be somebody that you’re not,” his expression was serious, and she knew he meant what he was saying, “You shouldn’t be ashamed of your life - you’ve got a lot going for you.”

That stung a little - the accusation that she was ashamed - but she knew that he wasn’t exactly wrong about that - people who were content with their lives don’t ask their friends to be fake dates to dinner with their family members. “I didn’t say I was ashamed; I said, my cousin is coming to town and she will go back home with stories about how little Amanda still doesn’t have her shit together, and I’ll be getting phone calls, my mom and everyone… it’s just easier if Katie can go back to Georgia tellin’ everyone I’m happily shacked up with a nice guy.”

Sonny’s voice was low, concerned. “I thought you didn’t care what they thought?”

“I don’t…or at least, I try not to,” Amanda insisted, then reached over, laying her hand atop his where it rested idly on the desk. “But c'mon, it’ll be fun - you and me, playing romantic for the night.” 

He frowned, but he didn’t move away. “I don’t know.”

“What?” She asked playfully, “The idea of playing my boyfriend so horrifying to you?”

“Not the boyfriend part,” he shrugged, “The playing part.”

Amanda’s own mouth dropped open then, the humour from the moment gone as she looked at him. “Dominick-”  

He shook his head, “Look, I’ll do it… of course I’ll do it, you knew that before you walked in here. But I’m not - for the record - I’m not totally on board with pretendin’.”

 Despite his reservations, Sonny was definitely playing the part - he met her at her apartment, stopping by early enough say goodnight to the girls before they left; he was dressed to impress in a dark blue suit she hadn’t seen on him before - Katie’s fiance was an architect and they had chosen a fancier restaurant than Amanda would’ve expected, although admittedly she hadn’t seen Katie in person for almost ten years.

When she answered the door he didn’t react quite quickly enough to school his expression - she saw his eyes roam over her, and she found she didn’t mind - she returned the favour as he stepped into the apartment to say a quick hello to the girls while she grabbed her coat and bag.

She kissed both of the girls goodbye, and thanked Sienna before they left, ignoring the grins on both Jesse and Sienna’s faces as she followed Sonny out of the apartment. 

He reached for her arm once the door had closed behind them, resting his fingers just below her elbow as she turned to look at him, “Hey… you uh, you look- that’s,” he took a quick breath, “You look beautiful.”

Amanda was surprised to find herself feeling shy about the compliment, endeared by the awkward way he had stumbled over his words, the blush creeping across his cheeks. His fingers slipped from her arm, catching her own before he drew his hand back, her heart thudding in her chest at just that small amount of contact.

Step two of Amanda’s plan was simple - convince Katie she was madly in love with Sonny, which wasn’t going to be hard to do, and make sure she went back to Georgia with stories about how happy Amanda was. When Katie had called to say she coming up to New York for a long weekend with her fiance Amanda couldn’t find an excuse to decline the invitation - and she liked Katie; they’d never been close - Katie was ten years younger than her, and Amanda’s trips back to Loganville were few and far between once she moved to Atlanta; Katie had been just a kid at the time- but they got along fine. Amanda’s reluctance came less from not wanting to see Katie, and more from wanting to avoid yet more judgement - her mother, her aunts, cousins… everyone had an opinion on Amanda’s life and the choices they felt she’d made. Being a single mom with kids from two different fathers had rendered Amanda the topic of family gossip, and she was tired of it. She wished she didn’t care what they said about her, but no matter how far she ran and how much she tried to remold her life, there would always be a part of her that was the same angry seventeen year old kid who was trying to outrun a reputation she didn’t want anymore. 

Sonny held out a hand for her as they got out of the cab, and she took it gratefully, gripping a little tighter than she probably should’ve, trying to ground herself; if it bothered him, he didn’t show it. He led the way towards the restaurant and she tugged on his arm before he went in, stopping them where they stood. “Hey, Sonny.”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,” she said, voice low, “For this, and for, uh, for always having my back.”

He nodded, smiling down at her, “I know you already know what I think about this, and I’m gonna go along with whatever you want, but you don’t need to pretend to be anything you’re not, okay?”

“I know. I know, can we just… can you just be my boyfriend tonight? Be my partner, like you’ve always been?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but they were interrupted by a familiar voice, “Oh, Amanda!” Katie said as she approached them, and Amanda released Sonny’s hand to return the hug Katie gave her. 

When they pulled apart she saw Sonny was shaking hands with a tall, dark-haired man who Amanda presumed was Katie’s fiance. “I’m so excited to see you!” Katie enthused, “And who’s this?” she gestured towards Sonny - Amanda had told Katie she’d be bringing a date but hadn’t given any more information than that - and she was sure Katie’s mother and sisters would’ve had their own suggestions as to who Amanda’s date could be.

Sonny, prepared as ever, extended his hand to Katie, “Dominick Carisi,” he said with a smile, “I’m Amanda’s boyfriend.”

“Is that so?” Katie said as she shook his hand; she turned to Amanda and gave a wink so unsubtle Jesse could do better.  “This is my fiance, John,” she said, gesturing to the man with her.

“I figured,” Amanda said, shaking the hand he offered. “Nice to meet you.”

“Shall we?” Sonny gestured towards the door and Amanda took the opportunity to slide her hand back into his; nerves creeping up now that Katie was here and she was faced with keeping up a charade. Maybe Sonny had been right - maybe it was lying, but as he slipped his fingers into the gaps between hers, she wasn’t so sure that pretending they were together was an outright lie.

As they sat down to dinner, Amanda tried to keep the conversation light, tried to steer back to questions about Katie and John’s upcoming wedding, about their trip to New York, about family members back home. She didn’t know if Katie was genuinely curious or if she’d been instructed to find out as much as possible about Amanda’s life, but she was full of questions for Amanda herself.

She asked about the girls - how they were getting on, what they were interested in; it was all lighthearted and easy, until she turned towards Sonny, “And have you met the girls yet, Dominick?” she asked - Amanda could practically hear her Aunt Sarah in the question, and she frowned. Sonny, of course, wasn’t fazed.

“Yeah, I’ve known them their whole lives,” he said honestly. “They’re amazing kids.”

“Sonny is actually their godfather,” Amanda explained, “We, uh, we were friends for a long time before we got together… it just took us a while to admit to our feelings.”

“Oh right,” Katie said, “That’s great. It’s good to be friends first - John and I were friends in college.”

Amanda took the opportunity to ask Katie more about the two of them - and they made it partway through their main courses before the conversation drifted back to Amanda again. 

“How’s the detective thing going, Amanda? I still can’t believe you’re a cop, the stories Kim and Allie used to tell me when I was a kid!” 

“Um,” Amanda glanced sideways at Sonny, apprehensive about the stories Katie could tell; third-hand or not, they weren’t likely to portray her in the best light, "It's good."

Sonny reached over, putting his right hand on top of her left, his thumb rubbing circles on her skin, “Amanda actually got promoted last year,” he said, proudly. 

Amanda shrugged, “It was a long time coming, but yeah. Things are going really well at work,” she shared a small smile with Sonny, “Even if I still miss having this guy at my side.”

John turned towards Sonny, “You a cop too?” 

“Not anymore. I used to be - that’s how we met, but, uh, I’m a prosecutor now.”

“A lawyer?” Katie looked impressed - she gave Amanda yet another unsubtle look. That was a fact that would definitely be going back to Georgia with her.

“He’s a damn good ADA,” Amanda said; she turned her hand over beneath Sonny’s, lacing their fingers together. Her turn to be proud.

The rest of the meal was uneventful; whatever agenda Katie had been given by their family, it seemed to fade away as time went on - Sonny charmed Katie with ease and the conversation remained casual all the way through dessert. Sonny’s hand kept finding its way back to hers, and she was hyper-aware of his proximity, but she was enjoying it; that thought back in her head, that maybe this didn’t have to be a lie.

When they left the restaurant, they were headed in different directions, and Amanda broke away from Sonny to say goodbye to Katie - a lingering hug before Katie pulled back, smiling at her. “It’s so good to see you,” she said, “You’ll come to the wedding, right? You and the girls?”

“I’ll do my best.”

“And bring him,” she nodded towards Sonny. 

“It might be a bit too soon for that,” Amanda deflected, not sure Sonny would agree to keep up the fake boyfriend ruse for the length of a trip to Atlanta.

Katie shook her head. “The way he’s looking at you? You might be engaged by then.”

Amanda turned her head, following Katie’s gaze towards Sonny - he was watching her, but his eyes dropped away when he saw he’d been caught out.

“Send me the invite, and I’ll RSVP once I know,” Amanda said, not wanting to explore Katie’s idea further. “It was great to see you,” she said, and she meant it - despite the third degree Katie had given them early on, she’d enjoyed their company, and she was glad that she’d accepted the invitation - and even more glad that Sonny had agreed to come along. 

As they bid goodnight to Katie and John, Sonny’s arm came around Amanda’s shoulders, and he didn’t remove it once they were out of sight. Amanda leaned into him, twisting to hug him properly - she’d meant it as a thank you hug, but he drew her in close enough that she caught the scent of his cologne, and she wound her arms up and around his neck. They were standing far too close now for pretence - and there was no excuse now either, no way she could convince herself this was part of their little undercover operation. 

Neither of them made a move to take things further, but they held each other close for a full minute before she broke away.

When she got into bed that night it was with a smile on her face and butterflies in her stomach - she felt like a kid again; fifteen years old and home from a first date with a boy who’d just about gotten up the courage to hold her hand. Hopes and possibilities swirling through her head, and she was too wrapped up in the memory of his arms around her to even chastise herself for the giddy, lovestruck somersaults her heart was doing.

When she stopped by his office the next day, she closed the door behind her and leaned against it as she had done earlier in the week; him watching her from his desk; a smile hiding behind the suspicion on his face. “What do you want me to do now?” he asked - the look on his face said he knew something was coming and he was resigned to the fact that he’d agree to whatever it was, so long as it would make her happy.

She was ready to throw him out of his groove, though.

“You were wrong,” she said, simply.

He leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips, “And how do you work that one out?”

“It wasn’t lying. Last night, at dinner with Katie.”

He frowned, leaning forward again, and much as she’d done the last time they’d talked about this, she took the seat opposite him, a defiant look on her face. 

“It wasn’t lying because I wasn’t pretending. And I don’t think you were either.”

He took a second to respond, studying her face for a moment, uncertainty in his expression, “You wanna loop me in on what’s happenin’ here?”

“I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true the whole night - everything I said about how we met, how our relationship changed over time, none of that was a lie.”

In another echo of their earlier conversation, there was a brief second where his eyes widened; the disbelief on his face lingered longer this time, though. His voice was low when he responded, gesturing between them with his right hand, “I told her I was your boyfriend.”

“Maybe that wasn’t a lie,” she said, reaching across the desk and taking the hand he had in the air into her own, “Maybe it was just… a little early.”

“Amanda?”

“I wasn’t pretending to have feelings for you, Dominick,” she brought his hand down to the desk, their fingers still intertwined. 

“You, uh, you weren’t?” He asked, his eyes moving between her face and their joined hands.

“You said your problem with the whole thing was the pretence,” she said, struggling now to remember the words she’d rehearsed in her head on the way over here. “But I think we just haven’t, uh, admitted the truth to each other - about how we both feel, about how… how if we’re not together, we- we should be.”

Sonny smiled - at first, a small, giddy little smile, then a grin that was equal parts joy and mischief, “I’m pretty sure that still qualifies as lying,” he said, looking pleased with himself. 

“Don’t go all lawyer on me,” Amanda said, “Lose the argument for once; it might be worth it.”

 Four months later they flew down to Atlanta for Katie’s wedding. 

No undercover operation required. 

#rollisi #rollisi fic #rollins week #svu #my fic

[glenncoco4]

Doctors and Detectives Part 2

Thursday

Katie opens the door without peaking, knowing exactly who's on the other side. As the brunette slowly appears, she looks a bit frazzled as if she was in a hurry to get here. "Hey, I was beginning to think you weren't gonna show."

Kensi steps into the foyer, finally able to catch her breath for the first time today. "Yeah, sorry about that, we were slammed today."

As the two women walk down the hall towards the kitchen, Kensi catches a glimpse of the shaggy blonde that she met the other day, noticing he looks a bit frazzled himself as he mixes a drink.

The nurse can't help the small smile from rising to her lips as she watches her husband's partner perform the task, his brow furrowed in concentration. "He's been remaking your mojito over and over again."

"Why?"

"He said he wants to get it perfect." The redhead turns towards her friend with knowing smile as she watches the blush slowly creep up the doctor's neck towards her cheeks. Oh this is gonna be good.

XXXX

Dinner had been amazing and as usual Kensi didn't let her hearty appetite suffer because of Deeks' appearance at dinner. As they finished up dessert, Katie brought out Pictionary in hopes to get the doctor and detective to loosen up a bit and let their guards down.

A few hours and some choice words later...

As the last bit of sand slowly trickles down, Kensi and Deeks eye the other pair, who are stalled when it comes to the last answer...the winning answer. Both Jake and Katie look at each other as they continue to talk it out but just as the answer comes to them the last grain of sand falls into the lower chamber signaling their defeat.

The doctor and detective both stand, exchanging double high fives victoriously. "Yes! D squared is victorious!"

"Champions of the world!"

After their laughter dies down and Jake and Katie admit defeat, Deeks takes a look at his watch stunned at how late it actually is. "Alright, guys, I better head out. The waves are suppose to be great in the morning."

The doctor shares a look with him, almost sad that the night is coming to an end. "Yeah, I better go too. I'm beat."

Making their way towards the front door, Kensi and Deeks step out onto the small porch and briefly exchange hugs with their friends. As they say their last goodbyes, the doctor and detective walk down the driveway, both noticing the other's slightly slower strides.

Once they reach his truck, he pauses, nervously running his fingers through his golden locks as he works up the courage to look at her beautiful mismatched eyes again. "Hey, so uh-would uh...you wanna go for a walk or grab some ice cream?"

She looks at him curiously, trying to not put too much thought into his actions tonight. "I thought you needed to whip out your sex wax and prep for tomorrow morning?"

"Nah, I just said that because that's my go to excuse to leave."

There's a beat of silence as a look of contemplation crosses her face before she nods with a smile, making his heart flutter.

"Okay, I could go for some ice cream.

"I know just the place."

XXXX

The red Dodge pulls into the retro parking area, neon glow illuminating the darkness around them. There are young teens on skates as they carry food out to other cars that are enjoying the atmosphere. High school kids hanging out, a few families along with a few couples.

Kensi takes in the environment as a whole, loving the vibe and surprised by this hidden gem right in the center of her city. "Wow, this place is amazing."

Deeks smiles, mentally giving himself a high five, as he shifts the truck's gear into park. "I thought you might like it."

They both roll down their windows, enjoying the brisk summer air before one of the car hops skates up to Deeks' side of the vehicle.

"Hi, welcome to Charlie's. What can I get you?'

"Can we get a chocolate malt with extra whipped cream, Rocky Road milkshake with extra whipped cream and an order of chili cheese fries?"

"Sure thing. That'll be 10 dollars even."

The detective pulls out his wallet, handing the young girl a twenty. "Keep the change."

"Thank you, sir." The young blonde quickly skates off with a smile on her face.

He places his wallet back into his pocket all the while feeling her eyes on him. Maneuvering himself, Deeks turns his body so now that he's facing her, and once his eyes lock with her's again he realizes he finally has the opportunity to know more about her. "So have you always worked at Cedars?"

"No, actually right out of med school I decided to up and go to Africa and work with Doctors without Borders."

"Wow. That's...wow." If he wasn't left in awe over her before he most definitely is now.

"It was one of the best experiences of my life. Everything was so slow over there, I could catch my breath and just enjoy life while helping others." The doctor shakes her head, smiling as she thinks back to the dance challenges she would have with the local tribe kids every evening before sun down. There's a part of her that misses that life, back when things were simpler and the people she was around were actually genuine, not that the people in her life now aren't, it was just...different.

He notices the glimmer of yearning in her features and he can't help but wonder. "So why'd you decide to come back to LA?"

"Honestly, I was tired of moving around all the time. I wanted to put down some roots. Maybe start a family some day."

There's something in her eyes, he's not sure how to read. Loss maybe?

"So what about you?"

"What about me?" His brow furrows, caught off guard at how quickly she turned the tables, clearly not wanting to talk about herself anymore.

"What made you decide to become a cop?"

He can feel his body tense, more so about his answer than her question. His thumb rubs back and forth across the skin of his wrist, a coping mechanism that he's become used to any time his past is brought up. "My home life wasn't the best. Dad was a drunk...he uh-he beat me and my mom pretty good." Taking a deep breath he looks up at her, cerulean blues locking with mismatched chocolate orbs full of sadness and understanding, and immediately feels a calmness wash over him. "She tried her best to protect me from it and take the brunt of it all. It wasn't until a few years later that I finally realized that it was never gonna end. So late after school one day my friend Ray gave me his dad's gun for protection. I was so worried that I wouldn't have a place to hide it but it turns out I didn't need one because I used it that night. The cops came and the last time I saw my dad, he was laying in a pool of his own blood."

Her heart breaks as she watches the tears roll down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry. I kinda got carried away." He sniffles, wiping away his tears, almost afraid to look back up at her with what he can assume would be pity in her eyes.

A sad smile crosses her face before her hand finds his, knowing just how vulnerable you can feel when talking about your past. "Hey, I'm glad you told me."

There's a beat of silence as the pair gather themselves both reviling in the comfortableness of the moment.

"Do you want to have a family some day?"

The sadness that was in his eyes just a few minutes ago is now replaced by a spark along with a smirk playing at his lips as he looks up at her. "Why, Dr. Blye, are you asking for my hand in marriage?"

She shakes her head and playfully swatting his shoulder, trying to play off the spark of electricity that jolts through her body at the implication.

"Yeah, I think if I find the right woman I'd like to settle down and have a few kids, but it's hard you know? Having the job I do and making time for someone else."

"I know exactly what you mean. I've had like 5 dates since I moved back to the states and that was four years ago."

"Wow. Now that's a crime."

"Am I supposed to be flattered?"

"Yes. Maybe? I don't know. You're-uh, look! Ice cream's here!" He quickly diverts the conversation as their car hop rolls up to the side of the truck once again, this time with a tray full of food.

There's a brief moment of silence yet again as the pair enjoy the first taste of their sweet cold desserts, sneaking a glance at the other as they do.

As she pulls her lips away from the straw, the brunette lets out a small laugh at the unaware detective who has a smudge of whipped cream on his lip. Before she realizes what she's doing her thumb finds the corner of his mouth, wiping away the remnants of the white foam.

The smile that was playing at his lips immediately shifts to shock as he's left completely stunned at her touch.

"You had some whipped cream."

He notices the blush rise to her cheeks and feels his heart rate pick up speed but its her next actions that leave him completely caught off guard.

She leans over the console, feeling a magnetic pull towards him as her lips find his. The moan that escapes her mouth is brought on by the feel of his hand finding her jaw and his fingers massaging the back of her neck.

When air becomes scarce the pair reluctantly pulls back from each other, both trying to catch their breaths. "What are you doing tomorrow night?"

All she can do is smile.

#Densi #Densi Fanfic #Densi AU #AU #Doctors and Detectives #Kensi Blye #Marty Deeks #Kensi x Deeks #NCIS: LA #NCIS: LA Fanfic

[izlaria]

Someone you like (part 4)

This is the fourth chapter of my “Someone you like” inspired fic. It’s also available on AO3 in case you prefer that platform. Please hit me up to talk about Plance!

Summary: In the days following their arrival on Earth, Pidge finds that conflicting feelings don't just disappear because there are more people around. On the contrary, with the approach of the final battle, they seem to get worse.

FYI, we’re still on Pidge pining hour.

18 and 16 years old

Life was not easy when you were a soldier fighting against an evil, intergalactic empire, but Pidge had found a sort of balance to it all. Now that they were back on Earth and she knew her family was relatively safe, much of the sorrow she’d carried had dissolved into hopefulness.

Much, but not all.

Pidge leaned her head against the wall, hugging the papers to her chest. Being on the Garrison made it easier for her to ignore her erratic heartbeats, because she could just avoid Lance most of the time, but it also sent her into overdrive when she accidentally met him in the hallways. She could usually depend on her mother to be there – Pidge was grounded, after all –, but there were times when not even Colleen could protect her.

She wanted to talk to Lance, of course. He was one of her best friends and no crush could ever change that, but it took a lot out of Pidge to hear him drone on about Allura and all the places he wanted to show her on Earth.

Maybe her evasiveness wasn’t the most mature of Pidge’s choices, but she was tired and lovesick and feeling neglected. She would have to be excused a little pettiness.

“Do you want to tell me why I just saw you ignore Lance?” Matt raised his brows at her, an expression that Pidge herself often mimicked and that was especially irritating to be the target of. He was standing off to the side of her station, gloves still on.

Pidge pushed away from the wall, feeling flustered. She hadn’t realized her brother had witnessed the scene.

“Did I ignore Lance?” Pidge opted to feign innocence. “I was so lost in thought I didn’t really see him there. Or you.” This last bit she said with a touch of hostility.

Matt crossed his arms and hummed, sounding disbelieving. “You always were the worst liar out of the two of us, Pidge.”

She shouldered past Matt with a glare. There was a lot of work to do until the Atlas was completed and the last thing she needed were distractions like her feelings for Lance or a fight with her brother.

“When did you land on Earth, anyway?” Pidge put the papers down on her table and moved to one of the computer screens, where she’d left a new code running. It was an improved version of her and Matt’s previous software for predicting Galra presence. “I could use your eyes on this.”

Matt stood at her back, looking over her shoulder at the lines that lit up the computer.

“This is interesting…” He squinted down at Pidge. “Don’t think for a second that a new challenge will make me forget what I just saw.”

She took advantage of Matt’s positioning to elbow him in the gut.

Truthfully, Pidge knew her brother wouldn’t tease her too much about her circumstances. Matt was caring and even protective when it came to her well-being, so he would never rat her out to Lance or any of the others, even if he disagreed with her actions.

Despite that, she struggled with being vulnerable around him.

Pidge didn’t want to think about it, but the years they’d spent apart had certainly affected their relationship. Before going to space, Matt was more than her brother, he had been her closest friend. But now she had Hunk, Lance, and even Keith and Allura. If she needed guidance, Coran and Shiro were only a call away.

She would always be close to Matt, but he was no longer the only person whose company she valued.

“We should finish this up before mom comes around,” Pidge said, trying to refocus. “She comes to collect me at the end of the day.” She rolled her eyes.

“That still going on?” Matt chuckled as he pulled a chair over to her station. He scanned the reports she had just brought in.

“I can’t even go out to eat with the team. We’ve had to meet in the cafeteria, of all places.”

“I’m just glad the cooking staff changed since I was a student.” Matt wrinkled his nose. “That was just nasty.”

“Except for the burgers.” And here Pidge smiled, suddenly reminded of all the times Hunk and Lance had dragged her to lunch and how they always ended up making a mess of their table.

“On Mondays, that’s right!” Matt glanced at her and Pidge couldn’t quite read the look in his eyes. “Until when are you grounded, anyway?”

“Let’s see, I was fifteen when I was whisked into space, so…” She pretended to do the calculations. “Until my twenty-first birthday, unless dad intervenes.”

Matt snorted. “Good luck with that. He doesn’t really have any weight with mom right now. She’s still upset about the whole being-pronounced-dead thing.”

Pidge groaned, burying her face into her hands. “I’ll be going to war in a month, but I still have no freedom here.” She raised her eyes to look at him. “Can’t you talk to mom?”

“And risk my newfound position as the favorite? You’re on your own, kiddo.” He continued to stare down at the papers for a moment, before turning to face her properly. “You know why she’s doing this, right? You spent three years MIA. We thought you were dead.” He exhaled forcefully. “I thought you were dead.”

Pidge didn’t really know how to respond. Since her arrival on Earth, she’d had versions of this conversation with several people, but her brother had always stood back and given her a little space. He probably knew better than most how overwhelming such a welcome could be. “I am sorry, Matt.”

He gave her a tight-lipped smile. “Turnaround is fair play, I guess.”

“Stop.” Pidge put a hand on his arm. She worked her jaw, trying to figure out what to say. “I never wanted you to find out how that felt.”

Matt nodded once, swallowing hard. Pidge could tell that he was putting his emotions back in check.

“I’m proud of what you’ve done, Katie. Mom might act like you’re still a kid, but I was out there before you came along.” It reminded Pidge that, though he hadn’t been present for her battles, Matt had seen his own share of horrors. “Voltron turned the tide, in no small part because of you.”

“Thank you.” She tried to blink away the tears. Matt smiled and brought his hands up to cup her face.

“My little sister is a badass, so I don’t want to see you hiding behind corners because of some stupid boy.” When she tried to protest, he just squished her cheeks. “Who does not deserve you, by the way.”

Pidge couldn’t help but laugh. She could always count on Matt to make her smile through her tears.

“I thought you liked Lance,” she said once Matt had let go of her face. He grimaced.

“He’s eighteen and a flirt.” Her brother didn’t even try to go back to work, he merely kicked his legs up onto a workbench and crossed his arms. “I would feel better about Keith, even.”

“You say that because Shiro would be just as bad of a protective older brother as you.” She pushed at his chair, making Matt almost lose his balance.

“You would never be alone unchaperoned, it would be great,” he confirmed, still pulling himself back into position.

“You realize that I’m technically nineteen?” She aimed a sharp look at him.

“You realize you look twelve?” Matt shot back, looking unbearably satisfied with himself. This time Pidge had no mercy for him; she sent his chair rolling down the aisle and Matt with it.

“Honestly, you have nothing to worry about.” She wrapped an arm around her middle. “Lance is so enamored with Allura that I could yell in his ear that I like him and the goofball would think I meant it platonically.”

Matt wheeled himself back to her. “Then he’s a fool.”

“You’re just saying that,” Pidge scoffed. “You were just as bad as him when meeting Allura.”

“Look, Allura is beautiful, that’s true, but it doesn’t diminish your qualities.” He put a hand on her shoulder, leaning in close so that their voices didn’t echo in the empty laboratory. “You are funny and witty and smarter than anyone in this damn complex. Don’t you dare compare yourself to Allura.”

Pidge dragged her chair until she was resting against Matt’s shoulder.

“It’s sort of inevitable. She’s the one he likes and I have to accept it.” She looked at the computer, where lines of code kept appearing and disappearing. “It’s just hard to be near him. I feel like I’ll do something and everyone will… know.”

“You spent almost a year pretending to be someone else, I think your acting skills are a little better than that.”

“Didn’t you criticize my lying just a few minutes ago?” she deadpanned.

“Well…” Matt gave her a cheeky grin. “I’ve known you your entire life, so I’m a Katie Holt expert.”

“Of course,” she drawled out, rolling her eyes.

Pidge felt her brother put an arm over her shoulder, squeezing her to his side.

“You’re perfect, okay?” he murmured into her hair. “Don’t ever let anyone convince you otherwise.”

She closed her eyes and let herself fall into his embrace. It was something she had missed, even now that the team was back on Earth. Everything had changed since the Kerberos mission and, while a lot of it was good, Pidge couldn’t deny that she wished Matt would stay with them more often.

“Okay.” Her voice trembled, but Matt didn’t mention it, choosing to tighten his hold on her.

“Knock, knock! Anyone in here?” As soon as the voice sounded, Pidge scrambled to hide her face. She got up and pretended to check a different monitor, turning her back to the door. She heard Lance approach their station. “Oh, hey, guys!” Then, seeming to notice the mood of the room. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, man.” Matt was the first to recover. Pidge felt him move, probably trying to keep Lance from getting any closer. “We were just discussing some Holt secret coding.” She almost snickered at this, despite the heartbeat that still hammered in her ears. It was the sort of thing that only a non-techie would believe.

“And I thought us McClains were bad with our ropa vieja recipe.” She chanced a look over her shoulder to catch Lance’s smile. He was always at his brightest when talking about his family.

“You needed something, Lance?” Matt was being a bit more brusque than normal, but his expression was thankfully still amenable. Pidge would have hit him if he just started being a jerk to Lance.

“Not really,” the other boy responded. He looked around Matt to smile at Pidge. “I was just hoping to catch up with Pidge before your mother comes around.” He shuddered. “Let me tell you, that’s a scary lady. She could almost beat mami with that I’m-not-mad-just-disappointed face.”

“You tell me?” Matt sighed. “That’s one thing I don’t look forward to when touching down at the Garrison.”

“You wanted to talk to me?” Pidge interrupted before they could keep going. Putting two of the friendliest people she knew in the same room was only a good idea if she had the patience for a long conversation. Which she didn’t.

“Ah, are you done ignoring me, Pidgeon?” Lance cocked his hip to one side, looking too sure of himself for his own good.

“I’m working, Lance, something you should be doing as well.” She pretended to fix her glasses, if only to have something to do.

The boy waved a dismissive hand at her. “I’m done for the day and I know for a fact that you’re just working on pet projects until Colleen comes to get you.” When he tried to lean down towards her, Matt moved to stand between them. Lance hesitated, before letting the strange behavior go. “Matt can keep your mom busy if she shows up, right?”

It was difficult to say no to Lance. He was jovial and charming, in particular when he wasn’t actually trying to impress anyone.

“Can you, Matt?” Pidge found herself asking. Her brother frowned at her with uncertainty.

“If that’s what you want, Pidge,” he yielded, when she didn’t back down.

“Let’s go before you get me in trouble, McClain.” Pidge gave a long-suffering sigh and moved past the two boys, who were saying their goodbyes.

Lance caught up to her at the door, opening it with an exaggerated bow.

She walked briskly down the hallway, but Lance had the advantage of his height. For every two, quick steps Pidge took, he only had to take one long stride.

“In a rush to get away?” There was laughter in his voice.

“You’ve seen how mom gets,” she replied, peaking around corners as they moved. “If she doesn’t know where I am for more than five minutes, she seems to think I’ll jump into a ship and disappear for another four years.”

“As if I had it any better.” He gestured to a hallway Pidge knew led to the analytics department. “I’m just lucky Veronica is the only one in my family with clearance to come into the Garrison.”

Pidge snorted. “I should sic my mom on you and Hunk, to make things even.”

Though she’d spent so much of their time on Earth making up excuses not to see Lance, the conversation between them flowed naturally. He had an easy-going energy that calmed Pidge’s more tense nature. While they were in the castle-ship, he had been able to soothe the worst of her worries, until Pidge could actually have fun, despite the fears that troubled her mind.

She didn’t know what would have become of her in this war, if Lance hadn’t been there.

“On the subject of your family…” Lance sent her an anxious look. “Is everything really alright with your brother?”

Pidge could tell he was actually worried, which sent a wave of affection and pain through her chest. She struggled to keep her expression blank.

“We were just talking about the war.” She allowed apprehension to seep into her tone. “I know he has a role to perform out there, but I wish he could stay longer.”

Lance twisted his mouth to the side, an unhappy expression he often adopted when trying to look empathetic. “What has Matt said about it?”

“He misses home, but he can’t really ignore what’s going on with the rebel forces.” Pidge rubbed at her temple. “If we are actually able to end the war, then things might be different, but for now…” she trailed off.

Communications from all around the universe told them Voltron wasn’t the only force preparing for battle. There were a lot of moving parts to consider, especially with the still unknown variable of whose influence had been affecting the Altean colony.

“I know what you mean. After this is all over, I think I’ll take a long vacation to just enjoy good, old Earth.”

This surprised Pidge, startling her from her previous line of thought.

“What, is the Tailor going to retire?” She knocked Lance lightly on the arm, trying for a playful mood.

“No,” he objected. He bent at the waist to look her in the eye and winked. “You know I can’t deny the rest of the universe the beauty of my presence.”

Pidge pushed his face away. It was easy to pretend to be annoyed at Lance when he insisted on acting like this. He was most dangerous when he was genuine. “Be real, man.”

“I am!” He laughed as he stood upright. “It’s just… We’ve been off-planet for so long, I kinda want some time to spend with my family, maybe travel around. I’ve only ever been to Cuba and the US, can you believe it? I’ve seen more of space than of my own planet.”

“Yeah, me too.” Pidge frowned. She hadn’t thought about the situation in these terms before. “I’ve been to Italy and England, but that’s it.”

“We should come up with a plan, get the others in on it.” Lance shot her a smile.

They had walked all the way to the MFE taxiway and Pidge focused her attention on the aircraft that Ryan Kinkade maneuvered across from them. She didn’t want to think of Lance’s warmth so close to her, nor of the future he described.

It didn’t matter how long she avoided him, Lance always found a way back into her life and into her heart. This awareness was painful, when Pidge knew he would never look at her as more than a best friend or a younger sister.

She felt something hit her cheek and looked up at the sky. Dark clouds gathered over them and soon there was another drop.

“Oh, it’s raining,” Pidge commented offhandedly. By her side, Lance let out a laugh. He sounded so joyful that she couldn’t stop herself from staring.

Lance had opened his arms and raised his face to the rain. It reminded her of something he had said months ago, about the aspects of Earth he missed while in space. She was once again struck by how attracted she was to Lance: his cheerfulness, his stupid humor, the curve of his Adam’s apple and the way his uniform clung to him in the rain.

“I really missed this!” he exclaimed mid-laugh.

Pidge stood still, admiring his delight even as her hands closed to fists at her sides. “Yeah,” she breathed out, “me too.”

--

After they left the mall, there was still some time for Allura to kill before her date and it was decided that she, Romelle and Pidge would stop to grab something to eat. Rizavi and Ina had previous plans, but they encouraged the girls to have some fun together, leaving unsaid that it might be their last chance to do so.

“I cannot emphasize how thankful I am, Pidge.” Allura reached across the table to grab her hand. She and Romelle had insisted on going into a coffeeshop that had recently reopened; the design was minimalist but cozy, a step-up from anything else they’d seen outside downtown.

“And I’ve said it a hundred times already, princess, I don’t mind.” Pidge let her hand go slack in Allura’s, trying not to snap at her friend. While she appreciated the gratitude, the constant touching was starting to grate on her nerves.

“You do mind,” Allura contested, with the kind of serious but diplomatic tone she used when arguing with Garrison officers. “I could see your hesitance when the vendor first offered the trade. None would have denied your right to keep the item.”

Allura pulled back into herself as she spoke. It was strange to see her uncomfortable, since the princess usually kept either a tranquil or a powerful front in the face of adversity. Free from her touch, Pidge suddenly felt bad for not responding more fervently to Allura’s efforts towards a closer bond. In the castle-ship, she had pretended they were simply too different and, on Earth, too busy.

The truth was much less dignified: Allura had seemed like an unapproachable ideal, made solid only to remind Pidge of all that she could not be. She was prim and beautiful and feminine. Once upon a time, before the complexities of her multiple identities, Katie had aspired to this image, to some degree.

“You’re more important to me than a video game.” Pidge tried to be casual with the way she said this, but the knowing glint that shone in Allura’s eyes told her it was unsuccessful. “I’ll have plenty of time to find it again after the war is over.”

“Perhaps you could teach me these games once we are back.” Allura smiled at her, the picture of earnestness. “I was always curious about the time you and the other paladins dedicated to them.”

“It can be pretty frustrating,” Pidge warned, thinking of the hours she’d wasted with Hunk and Lance just to get past some particularly difficult levels.

“I have noticed that you scream a lot while playing,” the other commented thoughtfully, “but that appears to be part of the bonding experience.”

“You can say that again.” She scoffed.

“Why would I say it again?” Allura tilted her head to the side in confusion and Pidge had to disguise her laughter.

“I’m just agreeing with you.” She sometimes forgot that the Alteans weren’t completely used to Earth culture. In the Castle of Lions, the paladins were the ones to adhere to new patterns. Now, Allura and Coran had to slowly learn their customs, like with this date.

“I suppose we did have something similar in Altea,” Allura mused. “Activities like the maze we had in the Castle were quite popular among the youth.” She leaned over the table to speak in a lower voice. “The element of danger was a point of interest, though I couldn’t quite comprehend why.”

“That’s a lie and you know it!” Pidge pointed accusingly at Allura. “You’re almost as bad as Keith with throwing yourself into dangerous situations.”

“Am not!” It was always funny to rile her up like this. Allura was so calm and collected that getting her to sound immature was a reward in itself. The other shook her head and settled back into her seat, straightening her posture. “Oh, I know what you are doing.”

Pidge continued to grin at her. “What am I doing?”

The princess narrowed her eyes at Pidge, but her mouth struggled with a smile. “You and Lance have such a way of getting me to lose my cool.” She tapped a rhythm on the table. “I must admit it is endearing.”

There it was again, the shock of warmth and sadness that had troubled Pidge the entire day. She loved Allura and was even happy for her, but her heart was conflicted by the news of her new-found interest in Lance.

It just seemed so sudden, Pidge hadn’t had the opportunity to prepare herself. Or maybe those two had grown closer in the Garrison, while she tried her best not to see them, and this was simply the outcome of her bad choices.

Pidge was saved from responding by the arrival of Romelle, her arms full of napkins.

“What a bargain!” She proclaimed as the packages fell from her hands and bounced across the tabletop. “They have agreed to serve us their best delicacies in trade of Pidge’s autographs, a video of her endorsement and an appearance once every phoeb for the next five moons!” The blonde beamed down at them. “On that regard, what is an endorsement?”

Allura and Pidge shared a dismayed look over the piles of napkins.

“Surely they do not expect Pidge to autograph all of these.” Allura gave Romelle an hesitant smile, as if her politeness could change the answer they all knew was coming.

Romelle blinked at them. “The cook assured me it was an amazing deal.”

Pidge pinched the bridge of her nose, calling on any patience she could muster. She had nothing against Romelle and the Altean was nice and cheerful most of the time, but her naivete when dealing with human conventions never failed to amaze.

“Oh dear,” Allura fretted. “I should go deal with that.”

“Think you can convince them to give us food without getting me stuck here for the near future?” Pidge teased, to disguise her vexation.

Her friend slid off the booth. “I have reasoned with beings from several galaxies, I cannot fathom a Terran entrepreneur will be more stubborn than certain members of the coalition.” Allura straightened her spine and clasped her hands over her stomach, looking every bit the princess she was. The determination in her expression made Pidge smile.

“I can autograph one pile of napkins and I agree to do a video endorsement, but I’m not changing back into costume.” She turned to look at Romelle, who seemed to be accompanying the conversation with good-humored confusion. There was something almost sly about the look in her eyes. “I’m going into space tomorrow, how was I supposed to come back? Besides, I’m grounded. If mom found out we were finished shopping, she’d already be here to drag me home.”

“I might have been swayed by the delicious smells wafting from the kitchen,” the other admitted in a manner that could pass for sheepish. She eyed the napkins, before picking up a package. “I suppose these are a little excessive.”

Allura sighed. “I will be right back.”

They watched the princess move towards the front of the coffeeshop, where the human owner was talking to another set of customers. Romelle sat down where Allura had previously been.

“Alone at last.” She clapped her hands together and faced Pidge with a seriousness that contrasted with her usual vibrancy.

Pidge narrowed her eyes at Romelle. “I knew you were plotting something.”

The blonde shrugged. “I wanted to talk to you privately and I didn’t think we would get the chance in the Garrison.” She glanced back to where Allura stood waiting for the other customers to leave. “The owner was a darling, but he was a tremendous flirt, so Allura won’t be here any time soon.”

“Do I even have to sign anything?” Pidge rested her chin on her hand.

“He wants a picture with you and the princess and an autograph to hang on the wall, but that’s it.” Romelle winked at her.

“So what do you want?” Pidge tapped a finger against her cheek. She didn’t mean to sound so suspicious, but the girl’s orchestrations made the situation feel a little like a trap.

“To thank you.” The emotion in her voice sounded almost like pity. “For your sacrifice today.”

Pidge groaned. “I already told Allura that the video game wasn’t that much of a loss.”

“I am not talking about the game.” There was a moment of silence, during which Pidge kept very still. “I saw your reaction when we told you about the date. It was only then that I realized: you like pointy chin.”

“What makes you think that?” She raised a brow at Romelle, doing her best to appear natural.

“It makes sense.” Romelle looked up at the sparse decorations that adorned the coffeeshop, her expression pensive. “He’s the one you spend the most time with, after Hunk. I didn’t think you were interested in romance, given your almost complete lack of sentimentality,” and here she made a face at Pidge, “but I suppose we’re all dealing with high emotions right now.”

Pidge didn’t know how to reply. So far, Matt was the only one who had realized her crush on Lance and he’d been thankfully quiet since. The whole day left her feeling off-center, especially with what Romelle now wanted her to confess. Pidge didn’t want to talk about her feelings. She wanted to take her bayard and carve the jealousy and affection and misery right out of her chest.

Romelle took her silence as a sign to go on. “Look, I know we are not close, but you can talk to me.” The expression on her face was so eager that Pidge didn’t immediately protest. “You are… not kind. Not always, at least, but genuine.” Romelle hurried through her words. “Which is more than can be said about others I’ve met since arriving on Earth. And I can see how much you care for Allura, though you hide it beneath your sarcasm and reluctance.”

“Has anyone on Earth given you trouble?” Pidge chose to focus on the subject that was easier to approach. Romelle clearly knew what she was doing, because the blonde gave her a very annoyed look. “The team and I have tried to shield you from the politics of having non-humans around, but it’s not always possible.”

“I grew up worshipping a man who turned out to be harvesting quintessence from the bodies of my family and friends,” Romelle stated coolly. “I can handle the Terrans.”

“Well, this thing has to go both ways.” Pidge leaned back against the booth to gesture forcefully in the other’s direction. “If you want me to talk to you, then you need to talk to me.”

Romelle seemed to consider this, her eyes narrowed. “Fair enough.” She glanced quickly over her shoulder, then leaned forward. “I know we both want what’s best for Allura, but I hope you will be happy, too.”

Her eagerness brought a small smile to Pidge’s lips, even as her chest constricted with the acknowledgement of her feelings.

There were many things in the universe that she valued more than romance: her family, her intellect and ability to continue learning, and now her friends. Pidge would do anything to keep them safe and content, regardless of how she felt about Lance. She would eventually get over him, of this Pidge was sure.

She loved Lance, but she loved herself more.

“I don’t need a boy to be happy, Romelle. I just want this war to be over.”

The blonde nodded at her response. “You have already done so much for me by going against Lotor.” She sighed. “You will always have my loyalty for that.”

Pidge took a moment to study her. Romelle could be energetic and joyful, but she had also suffered more loss than Pidge could really comprehend. She had never believed Matt and her father were dead, even on the early days of the Garrison’s declaration. Hope had moved her forward, but Romelle hadn’t had that privilege.

“Have I ever told you how I became a paladin?” she asked, much to Romelle’s surprise.

“I don’t believe so, no.” The other furrowed her brows in puzzlement. “Are you changing the subject again?”

“I was just thinking that we have more in common than you know.” Pidge lowered her eyes to the tabletop, tracing a series of scratches with the tip of her fingers. “You have met my brother Matt, haven’t you?”

Allura approached as she said this, a tray of food balanced on her hand. “Oh, has Romelle heard of your search for Matt?”

Pidge stood up to help Allura place the coffee without spilling it and grinned at her friend’s enthusiasm. “I was just about to tell her.”

The princess sat down next to Romelle and put her hands to her chest in a show of sympathy. “It is a lovely story, please go on.”

With a laugh, she did.

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