#and it was relevant to a conversation with my parents the other day so honestly?? thank God i got into the batfam | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hellfiremunsonn · 3 months

Text

Stuck With Me. Eddie Munson x Reader

AN: At the end of each chapter will be a picture of ‘your’ Journal. Photos, and writing of a little bit from each chapter.

(THIS IS A REUPLOAD ALL CHAPTERS WILL BE RE UPLOADED ONE BY ONE)

I do not allow my writing to be republished anywhere other than my own blog without my consent.

WARNINGS: Nothing serious I don’t think in this first chapter.

WORDCOUNT: 2k

Chapter 1: I Made Pasta

It’s 6:35pm when you finally make it through the threshold of your shared apartment with your best friend Robin. After a terribly long shift at a coffee shop just down the road you could barely make it three steps before dropping all of your belongings and laying flat on your back on the cold hardwood floor.

Soft music from the radio in the living room echoed around and you could smell something with garlic cooking. Bare feet thumping loudly down the hallway; stopping only a few millimetres from your head. You opened one eye, squinting the other while looking up and an upside down robin. Her hair a curtain around her face.

“You didn’t even make it to the carpet today” She said, voice soft with sympathy.

You groaned and closed your eyes again, pushing out your bottom lip in a hefty pout.

“I’m making pasta, do you want any?” she asked, her footsteps retreating into the kitchen.

“Please?” you said finally sitting up off the floor. You hated complaining about working at the coffee shop because if you were being honest to anyone other than yourself, you were really lucky to have it, and really lucky to actually like the people you worked with. The past retail jobs you had with snotty coworkers, and middle-aged women forming cliques; the coffee shop was a breath of fresh air in comparison. It was just always hard. Being too nice for your own good and often got taken advantage of which leads you to constantly be overworking, and so sometimes, coming home and laying on the floor is the only thing you can manage for about twenty minutes. Ten if robins cooked something.

You and Robin have lived together for about two years now, but you’ve known her for three. You met at some shitty bar with a bunch of college kids you didn’t know and ending up sticking together and getting high in the girls bathroom. You fell in love with who she was instantly. The way she talked so quickly and passionately, her thoughts tumbling out her mouth before she could even process them. The insane amount of knowledge her brain could hold, constantly blurting facts about almost anything, being able to keep them all within relevance of the conversation was something you almost envied. She had this really good friend Steve. Steve Harrington; they had apparently gone to school together but when they showed you old pictures of them you would have never imagined them ending up as friends. They became close after working together at some ice cream shop in a mall back in their old town that apparently burnt down, and they kind of trauma bonded from that.

Steve was funny and quick witted, often called you out on your own bullshit before you even saw it. He was a delight to be around honestly and if you and Robin had an extra room you know he’d stay here. His parents are rich apparently, but he was quite adamant about paying for his own shitty apartment instead of having his parents rent out one of the nicer ones down town. He stayed down there most days.

There was another kid who came around every once in a while; Dustin… something. You could never remember his last name, but Steve looked after him like he was his younger brother. Dustin was also from Hawkins along with the other two, and it was sweet knowing they all kept in touch as often as they did seeing as they were so far from their home town, and all grown up.

You was jealous sometimes. Jealous of the life they had before, and the friendships they kept. You never had the opportunity to stay anywhere for very long. You lived with your aunt Jean, and money was hard for her. She adopted you after your mom died when you were six, even though she already had four kids of her own that she was raising. It was hard raising us as a single parent, and her kids didn’t exactly like you.

So with Jean often unable to pay rent, you moved from place to place every couple years. It gets tiring being the new kid, so when you turned eighteen you moved out here you decided to stay as long as you could; and every year you’ve been here since Robin has made it worth it. (Although you would never hold it against her, you do miss her when she goes back to Hawkins for the holidays to visit her parents)

Those first couple of years on your own were terrible until you met that chatter box of a woman named Robin.

Finally lifting yourself off of the floor you walked towards your room, putting your things away and ridding yourself of your old work clothes. Dropping them to the floor you searched through your dresser pulling out a pair of pyjama pants and an old baggy Metallica shirt. You never wore it out in public because their music wasn’t exactly your thing, but Robin had given it to you; saying it was an old friends and she didn’t want to keep it but felt guilty if she threw it away or donated it. So naturally you took it in happily. It was too comfy to throw away, so it became a regular sleep shirt.

Sliding your way back into the kitchen Robin was placing two bowls of pasta onto the counter. Grabbing both you brought them over to your little rounded kitchen table that you stuck in the corner. It was a tight squeeze but you made it work. “Have I ever told you that I love you?” you said to her with a mouthful of noodles.

She laughed and slid into the seat across from you, placing two graciously full glasses of white wine. “Once or twice, usually not through a mouthful of food, but still meaningful nonetheless” she quipped. “I am a really good cook though” She admitted.

“You are, I don’t know why Steve is always so shocked about it"

“Because I could barely make toast without setting something on fire when I was in high school"

"I just find that so hard to believe” You said. “I always picture you as this person” you gesture towards her. “Just maybe a little smaller, and maybe more shy”

“Oh I’m still shy” she pointed at you with her fork; half a noodle dangling from it.

“I know, I’ve seen the way you talk to women remember?” You laughed. “You’ve gotten better though, and you’re back together with vickie right? That’s gotta be good for something”

“Yeah I guess” Sighing she poked around her bowl.

“Trouble in paradise?” You ask while raising an eyebrow.

She rolled her eyes at the cliche phrase. “I don’t know, I think I’m just worried that maybe the break wasn’t enough for her and that she’ll realize I’m not that great and she can do better, even though I personally think were perfect for each other, I mean we literally fit together like a puzzle piece, and I don’t know how or why but we do and I-’

"Robin” You say cutting her off. “Sometimes taking a break is really beneficial for bother parties you know? Distance makes the heart grow fonder or some shit; whatever that saying is, anyways” You said swirling your hand in the air. “If vickie doesn’t see how fucking incredible you are, even now after the break, or even when she locked eyes on you for the first time, then she isn’t worth it…” You paused. “I know it’s not exactly what you want to hear, but you are more and you deserve more”

She looked up at you, eyes bleary with tears. Smiling she wiped at her eyes, a small chuckle escaping her. “You really are the best of best friends a girl could ask for” Her eyes widened at her words. “Don’t tell Steve I said that, he might have a mental breakdown”

“Oh I’m absolutely telling Steve you just said I was the bestest of best friends. I need to rub it in that little twerps face” You said grinning.

“Oh!” She exclaimed. “I told Steve we would go back with him to Hawkins on Friday for the week, because I know you’re off work, and I can take my work with me anywhere really, and Steve said that the gang really wanted to get together for the Corroded Coffin show at the bar, and I couldn’t exactly say no so” she stopped to take a deep breath. “You’re gunna see the lovely little shit hole that is Hawkins Indiana” She smiled brightly in anticipation.

You really didn’t want to spend two hours in a car to go visit a town you had never been to, to see a band you had never heard of, but you couldn’t deny the curiosity you had to finally being able to see Robins home town.

“Friday?” You asked and she nodded.

“But that’s tomorrow"

She bit her lip and gave you a pleading smile. And when your best friend gives you that ‘please do this for me I need you there and I made you noodles’ look. You just can’t say no.

"Fine” you groan. “But we’re taking my car, Steve can drive himself, I’m not getting stuck in the backseat with you and your stinky feet again"

"That was one time!” she argued.

“One time too many if you ask me” you fake annoyance.

“Also thank you, I really appreciate you coming… I didn’t want to see Vickie for the first time since the break alone, and Steve isn’t the best wingman”

“I’d kill a man for you” you said taking another mouthful of noodles. “Just give me the word baby”

“God no wonder Steve always thinks we’re secretly dating with the amount of flirting we do” she said shaking her head.

“Hey if you don’t flirt with your best friend then what’s the point in even having a best friend?”

“I don’t flirt with Steve” She pointed.

“Yeah cause you’re a lesbian Robin”

She shrugged in agreement and you both went back to eating your pasta.

Around 9pm you decided to head into your room to start packing your small suitcase. Robin said to pack something for every possible scenario, including the bad ones. Whatever that means.

It was mid July so you decided on half the clothes being okay for hot weather, and half of them being for cold weather, with a few extra cozy options for good measure. You threw an all too new looking copy of The Lord Of The Rings, on top (Something you had been meaning to read for a while) and then fumbled around for toiletries.

“Hair brush, hair ties, headband?” You questioned looking back at your dresser. It was covered in all types of jewelry and hair accessories mixed in with the endless amount of paint supplies. “Nah no headband” You decided. “toothbrush and toothpaste? I’m sure Robins parents have toothpaste…” You bit your lip. What if they were the type of people that just didn’t share toothpaste? “Whatever” You rolled your eyes.

Robin knocked lightly on the doorframe of your room.

You give her a quick glance while continuing to move around your room. She crept in and sat with her legs crossed on your bed. “You’re talking out loud again” she said reaching over to grab one of your stuffed animals, cuddling it to her chest.

“Shit” you mumbled. “I really gotta stop doing that” An embarrassing habit when you were nervous. You even used to have to grit your teeth together to stop myself from looking like a crazy person when you were out in public, but at home, it didn’t really matter all too much if Robin heard you. After a few more minutes of shoving things into your suitcase you stood back to look at it, hands on your hips. “Do you think your parents will like me?” You say abruptly looking up at Robin.

She raised a brow “Yeah probably, why?”

“I don’t know, I just don’t want them to think you’re living with some weirdo roommate"

She laughed. "They already know who you are, they don’t think you’re weird. They have me as a daughter, their perception of weird is much different than any ‘normal’ humans”

“Yeah I guess you are a big weirdo huh?” You tease.

“The best in the bizz” She said with a yawn. “Alright I’m gunna try to sleep, I’ll wake you up in the morning” Skipping out of your room and to her own she yelled a “Goodnight!” Before closing her door.

You sighed looking at the time. Not feeling tired enough to sleep yet so you decided to journal a little bit to pass the time. Scribbling doodles and words all over the pages, adding as many stickers as you saw fit. It was one of your favourite pastimes because not only did you have your own words to look back on, to remember fond moments, you always slapped a couple of Polaroids onto the pages for extra nostalgia. The process of it all was calming, and often soothed any anxieties from the day whenever you got to sit down, and glue, and tape a bunch of stuff onto the lined paper.

Finally deciding to crawl into bed before your week of 'vacation’ started. Wrapping your blanket tightly around you, shutting off all the lights except for one and closing your eyes. Naturally sleeping didn’t come easy, and you tossed and turned all night until around 12:30 am. You fell asleep sometime soon after that, adding another page to your journal in the process.

#hellfiremunsonn #hellfiremunsonn stuckwithme #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fic #Stranger Things #Stranger Things fic #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #Stranger Things fluff #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #Eddie Munson x fem reader

93 notes · View notes

trojanteapot · 7 months

Text

The writing blindspots in Infinity Train with respect to race

To get this out of the way, I love Infinity Train! It’s one of my favourite shows! I started writing fanfiction because of this show, and it still inspires me every day.

I really do think that Infinity Train as a whole is a very thought provoking children’s show and I applaud it for exploring darker themes relevant to psychology and psychological well-being, which are topics often overlooked not just in children’s media but for adult media as well. However, I do want people to acknowledge some of its shortcomings, especially because it is a show that is dealing with such heavy and complex topics, and also positions its human characters as coming from a world which is pretty much a stand-in for our own.

Now I know that the storyboard artists for Infinity Train were quite diverse, but I don’t really know if it’s the same for the writer's room. The reason why is that as a POC viewer, it really does seem obvious to me from the way that the POC characters were written pre-season 4, that their race was mostly an afterthought.

Okay and to be perfectly clear, this is NOT A BAD THING. This is just a neutral thing. Obviously we don’t need every single story with POC characters to have to be about their experience as a specific racialized person. There are experiences that are shared among everybody no matter what race they are. I am not saying that you need to do super in-depth research into every single cultural nuance of every ethnic minority before writing them. It depends on if you really want to delve into how their heritage or traditions or specific life experiences inform their character arc. Not every character arc is about that. And it shouldn’t be!

With that being said, I do think that perhaps the writers should have tried to consider asking themselves very basic surface level questions on how being non-white would inform the problems and conflicts their characters would face. They don't need to know the ins and outs of each culture for each of their characters, but they could have just asked “How would I feel/react to others if people made weird assumptions about me based on my race? How differently would my parents raise me if they were afraid of prejudice or discrimination?” I think they should have reflected on that before setting in stone the backstories for their POC characters, especially with respect to Grace.

Part 1: GRACE'S PARENTS

So I am not Black myself, but I have had many conversations about Grace with one of my friends in fandom who is Black, and we both do get the sense that Grace’s race was very much just an afterthought to her characterization. To be clear, this is NOT because she has very wealthy parents. I am well aware that there are Black Americans with generational wealth. However, knowing what we know about affluent Black people in the real world, how Grace’s parents treated her makes absolutely no sense.

For example, among extremely wealthy people of any race, networking and knowing the right people is of the utmost importance. This is why so many rich people send their kids to prestigious private schools so their kids can get a heads start on knowing the progeny of other one-percenters. If you look up famous people with famous kids, chances are you’ll see a list of all of the very exclusive private academies that they all went to (looking at you, The Strokes). This is the case for wealthy people of all backgrounds, not just white people. And honestly, I imagine that the pressure is at least double for the kids of wealthy POC parents to get to know the right people as early as possible to be able to open as many doors as possible, in order to mitigate the inherent disadvantage of being a racialized person.

But what did Grace’s parents do? According to her, they never sent her to school of any kind, only having private tutors teach her, and her ballet instructor only made her join the other kids in her class once for a recital or something? This is, for lack of a better term... buck wild.

In addition, her parents are American diplomats. Diplomacy is an extremely people-oriented position. If anything, her parents would want her to not only be in the best private school, but to be the best student in school, to know the best people, to join the school clubs that all the other diplomats’ kids are in, and train her from a young age to be a social butterfly. Yes I know that diplomats will often leave their home country and be stationed somewhere else for long durations, and yes their kids could be taken out of school then, but some diplomats just enroll them in a different institution in the visiting country, or not take them out of school at all. This is what the IB Program was invented for, actually. Her parents being diplomats does not justify never enrolling Grace in school. In fact, it makes it less justifiable.

The fact that they did the extreme opposite of that is so illogical to me that I wonder if perhaps the writers just cobbled together a whole bunch of tropes that they think apply to rich people without actually checking if any of it makes sense, doubly so for rich people who are non-white.

I think the reason why is because they wanted Grace’s parents to stifle her growth and her natural social skills, but on the Train, she can be who she truly is. I definitely agree that Grace finding herself and being able to truly blossom into the girlboss she is on the Train is a great plot point from a characterization perspective. However, I do not think that it should be because she was being stifled by her parents. The solution is staring the writers right in their face, but they can’t see it because it’s a blindspot for them.

What they should have gone with is: Grace's inability to become a social butterfly and a queen bee in her daily life is because she is a dark-skinned Black girl!!!

Her parents have extremely high expectations for her socially. They could have pushed her to make friends with kids she didn’t like just because they wanted to be on better terms with their parents for networking or diplomacy purposes – which they could have shown with that one girl from her ballet class. Missed opportunity! But no matter how hard Grace tries, she will never be seen as the perfect girl because of other people’s assumptions about her just based on her race.

Once she’s on the Train, Grace then uses her people skills and finds that they’re a lot more effective there, because it’s no longer Earth’s society, it’s a different world, literally! Plus this even allows her to be a little bit more mean, a little bit more honest, something she wouldn’t be able to get away with in the real world without being punished for it harder than her white peers. We already see hints of this with how she interacts with Simon, a white guy who is the same age as her.

CAVEAT: The dialogue where Grace reveals that she never went to school was something that she told Hazel in a private conversation. So it could be that she did go to school, but lied about it to seem more relatable to Hazel, who had never been around other kids before. Lying is in character for Grace because she would pretty much do anything to get on somebody’s good side. But the way that they had her voice actress deliver those lines, and the way that her expression changes when she talks about how lonely she was indicates that she was telling the truth. To be charitable, I suppose we can land on the reading that Grace told Hazel a half-truth. She did go to school, but she was frequently taken out of class or skipped semesters because of her parents’ jobs as diplomats. So her loneliness in that instant is at the very least truthful. Your mileage is going to vary on this interpretation of course.

This points to a weakness that I can sort of see in Infinity Train in general, where they push societal problems into purely the realm of personal failings. “It’s not because of society that Grace couldn’t succeed, it was solely due to her abusive parents” being just one example.

Never forget this monologue from a Black father to his daughter in Scandal:

youtube

Part 2: JESSE'S ARC WAS PRETTY GOOD THOUGH

The thing is they actually did write a POC character having to deal with a problem that was society-oriented quite well, at least in my view. Although, I am still pretty sure it was still coming from a race-blind method of writing the characters. Otherwise I feel like Jesse’s status as an Indigenous American would have come up more than a grand total of one time. That they could do this well for Jesse makes the fact that they didn’t do the same for Grace quite disappointing.

Jesse’s main issue that he had to overcome was he kept caving to peer pressure and had trouble saying no to others for fear of disappointment. Now, this problem is universal, and it’s not solely something that is specific to Jesse’s race or ethnicity or cultural background. In fact, I am quite certain that they wrote Jesse as a character without even considering that this problem he faces is relatable to POC experiences. But I definitely know a lot of POC in my life who do take on more responsibilities than they can manage, or feel a higher pressure to fit in with their peers. Hell, I’m that POC in many cases! It’s kind of like background radiation to us as minorities that we just have to do more emotional labour in order to be seen as equals. That’s just the reality of the situation. You can understand and relate to Jesse’s problem without being Indigenous/Native American, but at the same time it feels like a natural problem for him to have, because he is non-white!

I will admit that a personal blind spot of mine is I don't know and haven't had the chance to speak to too many Indigenous people, so there could be aspects of Jesse's arc that don't really make sense. If you are somebody who knows more than me, please feel free to correct me! I would love to hear how you felt about Jesse's characterization and arc as an Indigenous person!

Part 3: SEASON 4, THE ASIANS

Alright now it's time to tackle stuff that I actually could have any ounce of authority talking about? Which is how they wrote Ryan and Min-Gi in Book 4. I myself am Asian-Canadian. Specifically, I am a first generation Chinese-Canadian but I've been in Canada since I was six so I find a lot of the experiences of second generation Asian-Canadians more relatable to me. In addition, my partner is fourth generation Japanese-Canadian, so his dad would be the same generation as Ryan's dad. (I also am really really into rock music, but that's besides the point.)

What they got right:

So first off, I could tell that they really did consult Asian people in writing this season, so good on them! The difference in how Ryan’s parents raised him in contrast to Min-Gi’s parents felt very natural and realistic to me. Ryan’s family is more westernized and has assimilated more into broader Canadian culture.

The fact that Ryan has an English name and not a Japanese name immediately shows that. Min-Gi’s parents not choosing an English name for him is a bit of a surprise; very few Asian immigrants go without an English name back in the 20th century. Even nowadays it’s extremely common for us to go by English or Western names that we, or our parents chose, instead of names in our native language. But there are good reasons to not choose an English name. Perhaps Min-Gi’s parents wanted him to have a closer tie to his Korean roots, or perhaps if they travelled back to Korea to visit family it would be easier for them.

Also, Min-Gi’s parents not supporting his dream of becoming a musician and want him to get a stable job in… I think it was finance? Definitely true back then as it is today. I’m not entirely sure how Ryan’s parents feel about his life choices, and we’ll get into that later.

The character arcs for Ryan and Min-Gi are excellent. This dichotomy of wanting to do the good, responsible thing that your parents want for you because they want you to have the best chance at a good life, and doing what your heart tells you to do, is an extremely relevant character arc. It’s a life decision that is not just an Asian thing, but something anybody can relate to. However, in East Asian cultures that were generally influenced by Confucianism, which includes both Korean and Japanese culture, upholding your duty as a child to not disappoint your parents in any way is something that Asian cultures are prone to emphasizing to a great degree. We see this in other media centered on the Asian immigrant experience as well, such as Kim’s Convenience, Turning Red, and Everything Everywhere All At Once.

What was a bit puzzling to me:

So I'll start off with the thing that definitely raised many many eyebrows if you were an East Asian or Southeast Asian watching the show: Why were Min-Gi's parents so friendly with Ryan's parents when they're Korean and Ryan's family is Japanese?!

So like, not to bring politics into it but… World War II happened. It affected, you know, the world and stuff. And in the Pacific Theatre (god I hate that term), the Imperial Japanese Army… invaded Korea?? Among many other countries??? And did a bunch of war crimes?????

Like, Japan was invading other countries well before WWII even started… This is common knowledge… for Asian people that is.

Yeah I know what you're gonna say. “But Ryan's family is Japanese-Canadian!! They wouldn't have done those war crimes! They would have been sent to internment camps!” Yeah dude, I know! My partner is Japanese-Canadian, remember?! And even if I didn't know him, we learned about the internment camps in history class. It's pretty common knowledge among progressives in Canada and the US. George Takei did a whole musical about it.

But that's not how racism works. I can speak from personal experience that the scars of WWII trauma in Chinese and Korean communities run deep. Even my own parents needed a bit of convincing to be okay with me dating my partner, and my parents were born two decades after WWII ended. My partner said that one time when he and his grandmother got into an elevator with an elderly Korean woman, and at first she was friendly, but once she realized they were of Japanese descent, the elevator ride became deathly silent afterwards.

So when you have Min-Gi’s parents, who were probably born during or slightly after WWII, immigrate to Canada, and then be like… totally okay and hunky dory pals with Ryan’s parents just because their kids were born the same day in the same hospital…? I mean sure, anything can happen. But it definitely speaks to how abnormally accepting, forgiving, and welcoming Min-Gi’s parents are.

To be clear, this isn’t something that pulled me out of the experience, personally. Yes, it is strange, but it’s not impossible for a Korean family to be super okay and friends with a Japanese family. Maybe it’s because their small town has very few Asians and so they have to stick together due to solidarity or something. Maybe Min-Gi’s parents are the type of Christians that believe in the inherent goodness of everyone and giving everyone a chance. Maybe they are just extremely progressive and see Ryan’s family as Canadian more than Japanese (highly unlikely), or they know about the internment camps and that was enough to get over their biases toward them (also unlikely). I dunno, anything can happen.

The other thing that bugged me was that they really didn’t explore Ryan’s relationship with his family to the same depth as Min-Gi’s relationship with his family.

They already set up the contrast of like, you have an immigrant who is more connected to their cultural background, and a third generation descendent who is less connected, and more alienated from his cultural background. That kind of stuff can really weigh on you as somebody who is a minority. You feel like you simultaneously aren’t Canadian enough because you aren’t white, and that you’re not enough of your cultural background because you had to assimilate, or were forced to assimilate.

Yes it makes sense why Ryan would throw himself into his music, and be disconnected from his family. But they didn’t take the time to really explore why he is that way. Ryan barely talks about his family except randomly mentioning that they don’t care what he does with his life. I don’t even know if that really makes sense that they don’t care what he does? Maybe Ryan thinks they don’t care, but his assumption is wrong? Either way they don’t explore this point that much. Even if his parents were more assimilated they would still care if Ryan had a non-standard job, such as being a musician. There is a gap between Ryan and his family/parents that was alluded to, but not explored. Feeling like you come from two worlds but not neatly fitting into either is so quintessential to the immigrant experience of Canadians (and also Americans) it’s a shame they only paid lip service to it.

I mentioned in a different post that Ryan would be monolingual while Min-Gi would be bilingual, and how this could cause tension between them. I imagine Ryan definitely feels inferior to Min-Gi in that sense of loss and disconnect with his heritage, just as Min-Gi is jealous that he feels he doesn't have the freedom to pursue his musical career in the same way that Ryan can. This is all stuff that can take a psychological toll on people, and is something which the Train as a metaphor for therapy should have been primed to tackle. But unfortunately we didn't really get that.

There is a term among the Chinese Diaspora known as “Hollow Bamboo (竹杠)” or “Rising Bamboo (竹升)” [more info]. It's an insult tossed at kids of Chinese ethnicity from judgemental adults for being unable to read/write Chinese or who cannot speak Mandarin/Cantonese/other Chinese languages fluently because they've been “too westernized”. They say we “look Chinese, but are hollow inside, like bamboo.” I don't know if there are equivalent terms for other Asian diaspora/immigrant communities but there must be. This term is controversial, and in my own opinion very unfair, because it blames the kids for this loss of cultural identity when there are so many different factors at play that makes them lose it, all of them outside of their own control.

Again, I think this is a blindspot from the writers just not understanding how much this loss of cultural identity is such an integral part of the experience of being an immigrant, and that it's not only felt in first or second generation Asian-Canadians, but also third or fourth generation, and beyond. It's scary to go out there and redefine what your culture means to you, and how to pass it on to the next generation.

CONCLUSION

So there you have it, a summary of the strengths and the weaknesses in Infinity Train as it pertains to writing about racialized characters. Just want to restate that a lot of what I pointed out is pretty minor in the grand scheme of things and I do overall think the writing is solid. I am not going into this to say that I expected the writers to do a good job, because generally my expectations for media and pop culture to portray POCs respectfully is quite low. At least they didn’t fall back on tired stereotypes, which is a low bar to clear, but it is where the bar still is these days.

If on the off chance Infinity Train does get uncancelled and renewed for more seasons, I hope they take these lessons and craft better narratives for their POC characters. Maybe hire some more non-white writers while you’re at it!

55 notes · View notes

tenebraevesper · 9 months

Text

Analyzer - Félix & Emotion, Part 3 (Miraculous Ladybug)

So, yeah... We have reached the final two episodes of Félix being relevant in Miraculous Ladybug, and I'm not counting Episode 26: Re-creation (The Last Day - Part 2), mainly because it was just a cameo. So, Part 3 would only cover Episode 19: Pretension and Episode 24: Representation, fulfilling two roles: Kagami's Love Interest and Exposition Fairy.

For this, I will do a quick recap of the events that occur in these two episodes, as well add what I would've written instead.

So, let's finish this!

Episode 19: Pretension starts off... sometime after the events of Emotion and apparently, Maribug and Adrichat are not interested in pursuing Félix, who is currently spying on Kagami. Kagami in turn is trying to convince her mother to not see her and Adrien as a couple (why am I getting flashbacks to all those secret eugenics cult theories?), with Tomoe scolding her for being "a slave to her emotions". Have I mentioned that I hate this woman?

Argos gets pissed off by seeing Kagami being treated like that, breaks the roof of the car and kidnaps Kagami. I suppose that's one way of escaping a toxic parent. Once they're gone, Tomoe quickly calls Gabriel to recover the Miraculous of the Peacock, because apparently, Gabriel still has no clue where Félix is hiding (hint: his own house in London), so I suppose he was keeping an eye out for him. In classic villain speech, Monarch claims how Félix is a monster who was the one endangering their children - you got no right speaking, you terrorist - and Tomoe gets akumatized and goes after Argos and Kagami.

Speaking of the two, they're at the top of the Eiffel Tower, and Kagami's first instinct is to go for the chair.

You go girl!

Argos quickly de-transforms to show her he's harmless, and as Félix, tells her he's not his enemy, and that he just wants to talk to her. Kagami is still on guard, wondering what he wants to tell her, and then we get this conversation:

Kagami: What is it you want to tell me?! Félix: I... I don't know. But ever since I saw you, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. I've felt that... you and I... were the same. (Kagami looks surprised.) Félix: We have so much in common, and yet, you're also so different. I've never met someone like you. Kagami: We don't even know each other! Félix: I know you. I've been following you non-stop. Kagami: Even better! You follow me, you spy on me and now you've kidnapped me to get to know me?! Félix: Uh... yes? Kagami: You are utterly incompetent at social relations. (Sighs.) You can't take someone away against their will! Félix: Sorry, I won't do it again, I... just wanted to protect you from your mother. She can't talk to you like that. (Kagami stares at him in awe and confusion.)

Yeah, this is the moment where the Féligami ship starts sailing. I will talk about it, but I gotta admire how Félix went from cunning to awkward the moment he opened his mouth to talk to Kagami.

Let's hope those puppy dog eyes will win her over.

To address the ship itself, I honestly have nothing against it, and it is a cute ship (especially when Féligami fans get their hands on it), but it's not my favorite (that one still goes to Brilix/Cursed Charm). However, I will address some of the obvious issues the writing itself created.

First of all, we do know Kagami's type being someone who is a rebel and who has the will to stand up for themselves, and Félix's penchant for mischief fits. I suppose it also helps that he looks like Adrien, whom Kagami still has feelings for... which, uh... okay, it really feels awkward, because out of context (and maybe even in context) it makes it appear as if Kagami just replaced Adrien with Félix. They look the same, and this one actually has a spine.

I do like that Kagami actually calls Félix out on how they don't know each other, and how he stalked her and kidnapped her. Now, that's a realistic reaction! However, I will address Kagami's point of them not knowing each other, and I don't blame Félix for this one, but the writing staff for thinking they can speedrun Féligami and no one will notice.

Like said, I'm cool with Féligami happening, but goddamnit, couldn't the writers have put more effort into having Kagami and Félix interact (aside from their glare in Season 4?). For example, have Kagami talk to Félix way earlier and have her realize that, while appearance-wise he and Adrien are look the same, personality-wise, they're completely different and have her question which one's she's falling for - the guy whom her mother and Gabriel set her up with, or the one who actually has the qualities she likes. Hell, that could be part of her own rebellion against her mother and the reason she breaks up with Adrien.

But yeah, this is Miraculous Ladybug we're talking about. Good character writing is almost non-existent.

As for Félix...

I'll just use the words my friend used to describe him - he's a S.I.M.P.

It's clear that he deeply admires Kagami and is so socially awkward that he thought it would be a good idea to learn more about her by stalking her and kidnapping her. *sigh* Félix, you're a lovable idiot. However, the moment he realizes that he really messed up, he apologizes, telling her how he just wanted to protect her from her mother.

Okay, before I continue, I will address that there is one glaring issues I had with this confession, and spoilers, it's not the kidnapping.

Anyways, before the conversation can continue, Matagi Gozen finds them, alongside Maribug and Adrichat, and everyone wants to save Kagami. Félix quickly transforms into Argos, dragging Kagami along for the ride and is chased by Matagi Gozen, Maribug and Adrichat, leading to a fight between the three. Kagami wants to reveal her hideout to calm down her mother, arguing with Argos how she can set herself free.

Matagi Gozen finds them, shooting an arrow at Kagami, with Argos saving her. Kagami is stunned her mother would hurt her, with Argos responding how his own father was much worse. He then breaks his fan, telling Kagami how her safety is his priority, showing once again his cunning side by spreading out the pieces of the fan to confuse Matagi Gozen. Nice job, Argos!

He and Kagami enter the sewers, with Argos de-transforming and having another conversation with her:

Kagami: I don't understand. You have the Miraculous of the peacock, why don't you create a Sentimonster to get us out of here? Félix: First of all, don't call them that. (Throws his cufflink into the sewage.) I refuse to create a being to manipulate them, control them, abuse them, and end up destroying them. (Kagami looks surprised at him) Cat Noir:(through his earpiece) I found Kagami and Félix. Félix transformed back. Now's the time. Félix: When you bring a living being into this world, you have a responsibility towards them. Your duty is to protect them, love them, help them discover the true meaning of their existence. To deprive them of that... is monstrous. Kagami: Are you talking about... yourself? Félix: I'm talking about... us. Ladybug: Félix, set Kagami free! Cat Noir: And this time, you're giving us back the Miraculous of the peacock! Kagami:(puts her arm in front of Félix, defending him) I am nobody's prisoner! Félix is not your enemy! He's like me! He doesn't know how to express himself. Everyone is wrong about him! Including me. (They smile at each other)

Okay, have you followed this conversation so far? Good, because here's my take on it.

We know now that Félix is a Sentimonster, and given how he described his own father as thousand times worse, it's clear that he suffered a lot. He hates being controlled, and after seeing someone else who is controlled just as him, he lashes out in a misguided attempt to protect Kagami. He does all the wrong things for the right reasons. It really shows just how much depth his character is.

However, remember the issue I mentioned? Yeah, the fact that Félix is suddenly in love with Kagami, AFTER discovering she's also a Sentimonster? It's a huge "yikes" moment. Like I said before, the writers decided to clearly speedrun Féligami while making a lot of unfortunate implications. I will say, it is not the worst writing I saw, but seriously, did no one think about this?

Matagi Gozen attacks them, with Félix transforming into Argos again and trusting Maribug and Adrichat to keep Kagami safe as he escapes. He later appears at Sorbonne, giving Kagami the real ring back after she gave her mother a fake one, telling her how she's now free to make her own choices. Yep, the amok is in the family ring, and from the shot of them holding hands together, they're a couple.

So, before I move on to Episode 24: Representation, I have one more observation to make. I said it before and I'll say it again, Féligami was really the writers' attempt at a speedrun and, as cute as they are together, it feels rushed, especially on Félix's end. Kagami was a complete stranger to him, but the moment he finds out she's also a Sentimonster, he obsesses over her? Yeah, Houston, we got a problem.

It appears that they're getting along quite well, though, with Kagami laughing when Argos draws a heart on her window.

I guess they spent a lot of time together off screen. Anyways, remember how I mentioned Félix also taking the role of the Exposition Fairy?

Welcome to the actual highlight of this episode! Félix and Kagami have learned that Marinette is Ladybug and decide to ask for her help. Félix cosplays as Adrien to lure her away from the party.

Honestly, I don't really think that's wonderful, because what they did is mainly breaking Marinette's heart by making her think Adrien is still around. Félix transforms into Argos again, and actually creates a Sentimonster, despite his earlier rant about how he'd never do anything like that.

Did... did the writers just sleep on that episode? Or did they decide "eh, character depth is overrated, we'll do whatever we want for the plot".

Admittedly, the Sentimonster is a tripod camera, so there is a question how "sentient" that thing is.

I'll just quickly go over the next part, which is basically Félix and Kagami doing a play in regards to all the Graham de Vanily/Agreste history.

Skipping my complaints about this being an exposition dump that could've been done during the show's early Seasons and not in one episode in Season 5, I do love how Marinette is really into the play.

We learn how Amelie married some rich heartless cowboy dude (or maybe that was just a visual to show that he was American? *shrugs*), and after her sister got pregnant (with the visual of peacock feathers in the background), her husband got pissed off.

So, after some convincing from Emilie, Gabriel gave the Amelie's husband, Colt Fathom, the Peacock Miraculous, and Félix was created out of jealousy, with the amok being placed in Félix's ring. Félix's father then falls ill, aware this was the price he was paying for Félix's existence, and sees him as a monster.

Félix himself explains how he didn't understand why his father didn't love him and why he felt obligated to do whatever Colt demanded, no matter how unfair they were. If he became fond of someone who displeased his father, Colt would tear them away from him, or rather, order Félix to end things. Eventually, he realized that his life was connected to the ring when it cracked and almost destroyed him, and he could only recover it after his father died, along with his freedom.

That's when he understood that the Miraculous gave him life and it could take it away, so he made it his mission to recover it, even saying how he went to Gabriel to retrieve it and describe the events of Season 4 and Season 5.

Honestly, it's genuinely tragic and sad just through how much stuff Félix had to go through, day by day fearing for his own life, being hated by his own father and learning not to trust anyone until he met Kagami. It explains his behavior in the past Seasons, even why he only took one ring from Gabriel, because apparently, Adrien's amok was in both of the rings, something Félix wouldn't know.

Anyways, we leave these two lovebirds doing what they want, and myself with my final thoughts.

In my personal opinion, Félix is a really solid character, who does undergo character development, even if it's rushed. He's also a tragic character, who was doing the wrong thing for the right reasons and messed up in execution. He's also a deeply traumatized teenager who had to deal with an identity crisis on his own and the fact that he might cease to exist with a snap of a finger. He's intelligent and cunning, but also socially awkward and has a sweet and theatric side, and he also moves the plot forward every time he appears.

SO WHY THE HELL ISN'T HE THE MAIN CHARACTER?!

*sighs*

I went over how bad the Miraculous Ladybug writing is several times, and I'm not gonna repeat myself here. I will add my own version of how I would've written the events Post-Emotion.

For starters, after Félix learns that he can trust Maribug and Adrichat, he seeks them out to talk to them in private, revealing that Gabriel Agreste is Monarch. Hell, he could even pull another switcheroo to infiltrate the Agreste mansion as Adrien to gather more information. Even if Gabriel is more alert, he'd still be fooled by that. Instead of making it a battle royale where the heroes react to Gabriel's attack, have it be them the ones who go confront Monarch head on. At least, that way, Adrichat would participate in the final battle.

Anyways, these were my thoughts on Félix, and if you want to see how I'd write his character... well, his PV Ladybug self, then check out my story Up Ladybug and leave a comment.

Until next time!

Links:

#Analyzer - Félix & Emotion, Part 2 (Miraculous Ladybug)

#Up Ladybug (Masterlist)

#Ten's Thoughts #Up Ladybug Analyzer #felix agreste #felix graham de vanily #felix fathom #duusu #kagami tsurugi #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #gabriel agreste #ml salt #ml writing salt #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug pv #gabriel salt #feligami #ladybug #chat noir #argos

45 notes · View notes

dailyy-me · 6 months

Text

I recently read The First to Die at the End by Adam Silvera

Wow.

Just, wow.

(Please don’t read if you don’t want spoilers, I’m not going to hold back on my rant so read at your own risk).

I’ve read a lot of peoples reviews for this one because honestly it was hard to make up my mind about it as a whole. At the end of the day, I think my only problem with the book was the point of view from the creator of Death Cast. While it was really interesting to see and learn about his life, it didn’t reveal any relevant information we didn’t already know or any new information we needed. With that being said, it’s probably one of my favorite books now.

Adam just loves to intertwine the lives of his characters. And he does it so seamlessly. Nothing feels forced or awkward. And if it feels too coincidental, isn’t life that way too??

The fact that he wrote about little Rufus and Mateo was a genius way to give us more from those characters without disturbing the events from the first book. If anything, it’s helped us understand even more why they were the way they were and appreciate how much they managed to live with all of it on their backs.

The whole story reads like a romantic tragedy written in the stars. And the fact that one of the characters is named Orion and the other Valentino is absolutely wonderful. Their story isn’t perfect because if it was they would’ve grown old together and they would get to keep loving each other for far longer than they got. That being said.. it is a beautiful story. Adam was able to, once again, raise the questions about mortality and how people live their life, but this time with new perspectives than last time. Reading about Orion's pain of constantly HAVING to think about death and the very real consequences a simple fun outing with his sister could have was eye opening to me. In the first book, I couldn't understand how anyone could wish for a service like Death Cast, but after truly listening to Orion it made sense to me. I truly felt his fears, and worried for him along with his sister. It was also refreshing to see Valentino struggle with religious trauma while still having love or maybe just curiosity about God in a manner that seemed relatable to me. How his parents reacted to him coming out is a huge fear of mine. Reading about it happening to him was truly heartbreaking for me, and his questions and struggles resonated with me deeply.

I would also like to say that Adam surprised me a little when he was able to point out how grief can be a little selfish and how caring about someone so much can create distance between two people like it did with Orion and his sister (I’m so so glad that the characters were able to work through that so quickly because they both needed each other at the end of this story). The way he swirls coincidences and consequences is truly a whirlwind most admirable when you’re right smack in the middle of it all.

(Talking about the ending next, so this is your second warning.)

Honestly speaking, I still don’t know how to feel about the ending. And the feeling of uncertainty towards my feelings is exactly how I would want someone to feel at the end of my own story. I don’t know that I would be okay with someone being happy about how my life ended. I don’t know that I would want them to hate it either. So having the constant debate and conversation feels more comforting than anything else.

(Last Spoilers warning frfr bc the ending was AN EXPERIENCE I do not wish to take from anyone).

Having Valentino give Orion his heart felt like a declaration that love will always live within the stars. And I absolutely love it. Adam, I thank you for this story and these characters.

#adam silvera #the first to die at the end #they both die at the end #lgbtq books #book reccomendation #book review #bookworm #book rant #OLG #valentinOrion

28 notes · View notes

takiisieju-squadra · 5 months

Note

Hello, I’d like to request a La Squadra matchup, if you’d want to write one. I hope this wasn’t too much of a word vomit! :)

-I may seem awkward at first to people, but I just have horrible social anxiety (and possible autism) and public spaces can be overwhelming. Once I am hanging out with people I know, I tend to actually become a pretty loud and more social person, and will take a parental/leadership(? Don’t know the adjective) role in my friend group.

- I’m 18 and a massive nerd (biology major 😶), so I usually end up talking about horror movies or science/math stuff. When socializing with my friends, I enjoy talking about our different interests regardless of whether or not I partake in their interest. If I’m close enough to a person, I’ll probably flirt with them in an obvious joking manner, as long as they’re comfortable. My other jokes, which I share with everyone, are usually random or about morbid subjects like death. Deep conversations are another important aspect of my relationships. I just really enjoy spending time with my friends and partners. Whenever I can, I will try to help the people around me, whether it be with a task or by listening to their problems.

- I have an amazing cat, she is a diluted calico that I found in a sewer drain, and she is the most adorable attention hog. She meows until I hold her like a baby in my arms, but I don’t mind.

- A red flag of mine is that I have trouble reaching out about my emotions, so I end up bottling things up and have a panic attack or a (rare) anger outburst. However this is something I’m working on.

- some of my hobbies include watching horror movies, sewing, embroidery, art, skating, reading, and learning about new things

- I truly love gothic rock, death metal, and classical music. I actually have a really cool patch jacket too, and I also partake in gothic fashion and makeup.

-I can’t stand people who trash-talk others for being poor or something else that is out of a persons control. It just shows a complete lack of empathy and kindness to me.

- oh yeah I don’t know if physical appearance is relevant, but I’m like 5’6, pale and chubby, and have short dark brown curly hair.

Anyways have a good day and stay hydrated ✨💛

Hi! Sorry for the wait.

This was a very difficult one, and I hope you are pleased with your result. I match you with…

Pesci!

Oh, this poor baby boy… He knows all too well about what it’s like to deal with anxiety, so at first you may bond because of that. You could think he’d grow distant once you “show your true colours”, but it's far from that! He’s genuinely happy when you come out of your shell, and your ability to lead is obviously a good thing for him. Now, he may not know all the things you are talking about, but he is very interested. He may not understand some stuff, so please pay attention to his state, he might get overwhelmed or otherwise uncomfortable and be too afraid to actually say something. Also, please don’t laugh at him when your flirty remarks fluster him (even if you are already dating, he is always a mess in such matters).

Pesci is truly, honestly perfect boyfriend material. Whatever your hobby is, he’s trying to pick it up too (please comfort him during horror movies, he’s easy to scare despite his occupation). Whatever you wear, he adores and compliments it. Whatever music you listen to, he also tries to get into. Your cat is now his favorite animal in the world, even if she doesn’t like him. He will probably even ask for a photo of her to keep close (not you, though, it may be dangerous considering his line of work).

Despite his relative cowardice and shyness, he’ll protect you from anything, with almost terrifying ferocity. And when you return the favor by even simply telling off somebody laughing at his appearance, he is literally ready to cry.

He wouldn’t hide his profession from you, because he doesn’t like keeping secrets in a relationship. Prosciutto is obviously the first of his teammates that you meet, but eventually others find out and want to look at the person Pesci “managed to pull off”. You become surprisingly close with Melone, somehow…

Thank you for the ask. Hope you are pleased with the result!

taglist: @go-capt-puppen

(if you have something against Pesci, please don't bother to react, it is rather discouraging to receive "criticism" based on personal preferences considering I spend a lot of time writing these, for free).

#la squadra #jjba #vento aureo #la squadra di esecuzione #matchmaking #prosciutto #jjba pesci

7 notes · View notes

therhythmafterthesummer · 11 months

Note

I saw last anon ask that chris told to his parents about he’s imprinted on pretty. Was he nervous when he talk to parents like imprint is a big deal to werewolves… right 👀 if it’s right that means they are getting married and marriege is a big deal to everyone -i hope so-. Or is it totally common thing to talk straight, like nothing is nervous to talk.

And ofc they are soulmates they feel that too, marriage is eventually happens maybe it’s not that big deal for them but for others…

If it make sense 😂 how about dad’s reaction. His mom is ofc loving that

prev ask for reference

oohhh, i've got Thoughts on this. so many, this is so long.... i'll them leave under the cut

so... just because he imprinted doesn't mean they'll get married. not in the eyes of other wolves, i think

because, for them, claiming/mating is more relevant. marriage is a Human Thing.

i imagine that Chris spoke to his mum very openly first, but not to his dad

i think Chris' dad is not as understanding of humans as his mum (he is, for a werewolf that's used to being only around werewolves, but he's not like his mum who really doesn't care on whether her son's partner is a werewolf or not)

his mum of course was all lovestruck thinking of her son imprinting. not every werewolf imprints, either because they're not wired that way or bc they never meet their soulmate, you know?

it's not particularly uncommon, but it's not like every day you talk to a wolf that had imprinted

anyway, it made her really happy, and she was very encouraging. she did start talking about grandpups and mating and possible marriage and Chris simply told her smth like "would you calm down???? i literally just started this relationship. chill, mother, chill"

the conversation with his dad was interesting. i mentioned once he was apprehensive of the entire thing until he met her.... after that, Chris spoke with him

"you imprinted on a human?" his dad would be shocked. like, sure she's a pretty girl and she's very smart and down to earth and his son looks genuinely happy, but imprinting??

"why are you asking it like that? it's not like i could help it. plus, you know it can happen, it's not that weird", Chris will tell him, a bit defensive, ofc because that's HIS GIRL he loves and adores and why is his dad saying it like it's A Bad Thing????

"i guess it's as common as imprinting in general....." his dad is gonna mull the words over. it's not that he doesn't like the idea, the problem is that he's worried

"you... are you claiming this girl?"

"only if or when she wants to", Chris will tell him, very confidently, which will only aggravate his father more

"what do you mean? does she not want to? you do know what could happen if she doesn't, right?"

because here's the thing.... his dad is Super Worried. sure, she's a nice girl, but she's human. what if she doesn't feel the same way about Chris? what if she leaves him?

"i do know. and honestly? i don't really care. it's not something i want to pressure her with, nor something i can control. if she wants to, great. if she doesn't want to... then i'll have to deal with it. there's nothing i can do about it other than try my best to be a good partner so she doesn't leave"

his dad isn't exactly thrilled, but there's an odd sense of pride when Chris talks to him so absolutely sure of something. sure, he's no longer part of his pack, Chris is a man, a grown ass alpha that can make his own decisions, but that's His Son, you know? so it's only natural that he'll worry about him

he'll understand, though. offering a simple "well, don't fuck this up then. she's a catch", which will be enough acceptance for Chris

hope this made sense and answered your questions sdfjhsjkdfh

#anon #ask #wereroomies ask #wereroomies headcanons

18 notes · View notes

lake-archive · 3 months

Text

Mom Of A Teacher

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Characters: Riddle Rosehearts, Ann (OC), Unnamed narrator

Summary: Strict and cold in class but a clear 180 out of class. A literature fanatic yet at the same time a passionate parent... At least these are their two sides.

Words: 1,209

Tags: Night Raven College (Twisted-Wonderland), Heartslabyul (Twisted-Wonderland). Original Character is Not Yuu | Player (Twisted-Wonderland). No Spoilers. Fluff. School. Family Bonding. Mother-Son Relationship. Platonic Relationships. Riddle Rosehearts-centric. Flustered Riddle Rosehearts. Tsundere Riddle Rosehearts. Riddle Rosehearts is Bad at Feelings. POV Third Person. POV Third Person Limited. POV Outsider. POV Alternating. Original Character(s). Major Original Character(s). No Romance. Platonic Female/Male Relationships

AO3 Link

During class she was said to be a little strict, almost ruthless, but passionate. Demanding the full attention of all students and they pay attention to the subject matter at hand.

“People say that today’s youth have no appreciation for classic literature nor knowledge. Well, we are about to change that. Because if you want to understand modern literature, you need to know the classics as well! Those which influenced us!” had been her introduction to one of her two subjects. No slacking, that one was obvious. With a cold glare, staring around the room and making all the students freeze on the spot, right in their seats. They were terrified at first, shivers going down their spines.

And well, honestly, he had never seen her like this either. until that day It was a new side, one he got to know when he was a freshman. And maybe he had been the only one in the room who found it to be an amusing sight rather than a scary one, even grinning in amusement, right in the front row. She had spotted it of course and only scoffed before having continued her speech that day

“So, I will make sure to educate you properly on the great works of our world. And you will go out here liking them! I’m making it my mission. So… Be prepared to have to work yourselves to the bone!” – Sounding as eager and stubborn as always, even with that serious mask on her face. Then again, she couldn’t help it whenever literature was involved. It was honestly adorable. A passionate writer, thus she had to hold this big speech about authors who had already passed on, only leaving a legacy with their words which had all been carried on by generations. Was it because she wanted to be no exception? Haha, maybe. But that was an educated guess if anything.

But no matter, she had her way with words and stayed true to this promise. Right away she made it more than obvious that she was not going to tolerate any slacking, the first period onwards. But most would listen either way, a bit too caught up with what she had to say. Even distractions remained relevant to the topic at hand, oddly enough. A tangent about for example what other literature used these influences, as if proving a point. A work of art which was well known in the classroom, as if encouraging a conversation. A passionate yet hectic class, to say the least. But she knew what she was doing, she always did.

This was her teacher's side, so absorbed that she became overly serious whenever teaching. Then again, when literature is involved, then she just couldn’t help herself. She could even teach the elderly something new in her field of expertise. In class the students seem to respect her and most pay attention. But that was only one side. One. Because there were two on campus… All thanks to an instinct almost coming naturally to her…

“Now, open wide~” It was not rare to hear this young teacher say something in a sweet, doting voice, a wide smile on her face, with a fork in hand which had a small piece of a strawberry tart on it. The one who had not escaped that day and barely does was the housewarden of Heartslabyul himself. It was not a rarity for him to end up in these situations, being poked and coddled. And he was always turning as red as his own hair when he was in such a position, claiming that it was an unbefitting position for a house warden such as himself. And even then… Even with that in mind… She wouldn’t budge. A teacher nonetheless! Breaking a crucial rule! Or so Riddle liked to claim whenever in this situation.

“Miss Ann, this is unbefitting for a teacher!” He would say, even now, looking around for someone to save him, anyone. But at most he could only see people snickering, watching this unfold. And even he found himself looking, even though he was further away.

It was as if she was just treating Riddle like her own little child, a son she cannot take her eyes away from. And she made it very clear. “Aww, this isn’t class Little Riddle~” Ann chuckled, the piece in front of his mouth now, as if trying to tempt him. “Let me give you a reward for your hard work. You were the only one with a perfect score on today’s pop quiz!”

“Must I remind you of rule–”

“Haha, don’t be so uptight now. There’s nothing wrong with rewarding you for your efforts~” And she wasn’t listening, making no attempt whatsoever. Instead she was just chuckling all over the place.

“A… A teacher shouldn’t play favo—” But Riddle did not get to finish his sentence. Instead his mouth was filled with the small piece of strawberry tart soon after, him being forced to munch on it now.

“But I’m not. Not in class anyway.” Was her counter. “Now eat up. I insist.”

The redhead only stared at her from the side, possibly having her smile in view. He was embarrassed, clearly, not being used to all the smothering he was experiencing right now. Even from afar one could spot the red cheeks and the gaze facing away while chewing slowly. Despite the embarrassment he was trying to savor the taste, or so it seemed.

A quick swallow and before he knew it however the next small piece was in front of his lips, making him look all flustered yet again. Yes, this was certainly like watching a mother sweetly pestering her precious son. Even if the little boy had grown up, she would still insist.

“M… Miss Ann… I can eat myself.” Though Riddle sounded defeated. Maybe he finally came to realize for this moment there was no winning against someone this stubborn. He would try, even if ever so weakly.

“Certainly. But I want to. feed you anyway~” She responded, her free arm suddenly patting the boy’s head and messing up his hair a little.

“Wha– Hey! That—”

“No buts, alright? Alright, another bite~”

“S… Seriously, you—” But silenced by having the piece shoved into his mouth. Talk about a nostalgic sight.

It was a mere taste, a taste of her other nature. But that was Miss Ann. She was in her own league, doing whatever she wanted. And she got away with it, to some extent. Who would put a stop to her? No student. Not even the headmage seemed to never have been able to— Ah no, that may be a story for another day. There is no need to spoil the fun just yet. You will have to come back for more if you wish to figure it out.

That wouldn’t change much of this scene however. This was a frequent occurrence, flipping behaviors like a switch. One side in class, the other with her students outside of class. She had cared deeply, didn’t she? Until the very end… As overbearing as she had been in her lifetime… It had made it all worthwhile in the end, hadn’t it? At least it’s fun to look back on.

4 notes · View notes

occult-roommates · 9 months

Text

Honestly, might be for the best...

Following the scandalous reveal of Delfina Baradoz, Dawud went to visit Matteo. Like, to him, it changed nothing about his life, except that Daniele was gonna be sad for a couple day. However, well, you know...the universe had another plan. It all started when he made the mistake of bringing up Delfina.

Matteo: Fucking hate her. Ooooh look at me, I suffered cause I'm human. Fuck off, I wish I was human. Dawud: Ok but her parents pretended she was dead cause she's human. Matteo: Exactly, the entire spellcasting world is rotten and corrupted. That is why I hate being one. Dawud: I'll be real with you, Matt, but the fact you seem to always find a way to sneak into the conversation how much you hate being a spellcaster is starting to be really fucking annoying. Matteo: But this time it's relevant to the conversation so you can't really complain. Hell, you're the one who brought it up. Dawud: Ok but like, it's really weird. Matteo: I'm not the only one, this entire society is absolutely awful, but nobody cares. And magic can attack your body, it can turn you blind, give you migraine, it frequently stunts growth which is why spellcasters tend to be shorter. Fuck it all, and fuck that guy who suddenly became a spellcaster and claim he always wanted to be one, like sure bud, you totally did. Dawud: ...Why did you had to bring up uh...Adem I think his name is? Matteo: Because I hate how he's happy with being something I wish I wasn't! Do I have to spell everything out for you??

Well, Dawud was regretting bringing up the subject. Then again, what was he even thinking...

Matteo: Anyway, you cannot understand, you're just a human. And just like most human, you probably don't like occults to a degree. You think I forgot how you handled my cousin's rejection years ago? Dawud: Do not bring that up! I did not mean it. Matteo: Of course, people never mean it...And I bet you're only with me cause you see me as a replacement for Dan. Dawud: That's not true!

Was it though? I mean, Dawud wouldn't admit it. Matteo is fairly different from Daniele. They don't look alike that much and have very distinct personality. They're complete opposite when it come to their magic, at this point no explanation as to why is needed. But like, maybe on a subconscious level it was the case. Maybe Dawud does see Matteo as nothing more than a substitute for Daniele.

In a way, he must admit it was a bit like Charlie. Sure, he wasn't fully in love with him, but as Haddaway once said "what is love"? It's not like he doesn't know how it feels like, he definitely had a thing for Daniele he had never felt for another person before. Sure he could make this work and eventually fall for Matteo. However, it seems like that once again, just like Charlie, it wasn't going to happen. This is gonna sound awful, but for all of his problem in his adult life, at least he's in a relationship you know, so he's not a complete loser.

However, at that point, not only is he sure he doesn't love him, he doesn't think he even like him. The two barely knew each other before they kissed in a bar back in February.

Dawud: Alright then, it's over. Matteo: Wait no, I didn't mean it. Dawud: Of course, people never mean it...

Well, that was once again, an impulse. This time though, it might be better this way. Might as well hit the brick before their relationship actually turns to shit, which it seems like might just be a matter of time if Dawud was only dating Matteo for the sake of dating someone. Even if he wouldn't admit to himself it was because he couldn't get Daniele, the fact is, to some degree it kinda is. So of course this will make stuff go sour one day or another. For the sake of Matteo, might as well call it quit now.

Prev - Next

#ts4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 #simblr #ts4 simblr #sims 4 story #ts4 story #occult roommates #dawud sahan #matteo rossini #OcRo s2 #long post

5 notes · View notes

onewomancitadel · 1 year

Text

Cinder and Anakin

That Anakin-Paul post I wrote the other day made me remember the common parallel drawn with Cinder to Anakin, which makes sense because enslaved afflicted ambitious terrified scarred evil is a common category of villain to compare, but also the point I made in that original post - which is that theme and tone matter - is still yet relevant. To go even further the circumstances of their villainy is not really sufficient parameters to say hers will look exactly like his, as might be the angle I want to look at it from.

Because I guess there's that fact that the tragic cycle of the Prequel Trilogy is not the final answer to Anakin's arc, that when Lucas made the Prequels it was not to bask in Anakin's villainy but to show how to get back to him being that little boy again. Execution of the Prequels themselves and Lucas' theory of redemption which conflicts a little with mine aside, I am going to say what I think is the key differences between Anakin and Cinder: Anakin is a father of twins and was married, and fell to the Dark Side as an adult. Cinder is no mother, but is in fact a Maiden, and fell to the ostensible 'Dark Side' as only a child. She has never been loved, not unconditionally, nor has she ever been free.

There really wasn't pride before the fall. There really wasn't that journey of the adult tortured by prophecy and magical forces beyond his control and the war of forbidden love that ran converse to his monkhood values versus the lure of being given the opportunity to 'protect' Padmé (which yes, the draw of the Dark Side came with a sense of possession as opposed to compassionate, unconditional love). Lucas feels that children redeem their parents. The sum of Anakin and Padmé's union is eventually what saves Anakin and is meant to be the satisfying answer to this tragedy (which honestly I think is interesting from a structural perspective. To me, prequels of this nature before the 'main canon' tend to be inherently tragic - that he explicitly wanted to explore that is really interesting... on the other hand, the fact that the Sequel Trilogy couldn't answer in a really triumphant way makes it taste quite sour).

So, the answer I'm interested in is whether the resolution of Anakin (Darth Vader passing away peacefully after not being able to fully die along with Padmé) is meant to really be the same for Cinder, although I'll admit historic comparisons I've seen of Cinder to Anakin tend to leave the question of redemption out. In my opinion I think that the comparison to Vader in the question of villain redemption is almost inevitable, and it can be a tiresome one, because his death is not really an indictment on 'redemption' - it's not that it's impossible, it's that it's paternal sacrifice, death that feeds new life.

You absolutely cannot replicate the same dynamic with Cinder because she is young and beautiful and under a magical Dark Curse, and very explicitly portrayed as a Maiden (that is apparently a corrupting force but really has the potential to be a redeeming one). So her redemption arc is not, or shouldn't, look the same as Anakin's, because it of the tonal and thematic differences, and the simple difference of their character. Cinder simply has more to do in the story.

I do think that tension between enslavement, imprisonment, denial, want, etc. is interesting (and worthwhile) to compare, but my interest is very rarely in only comparing characteristics or similar character backgrounds. It is almost always in what is this saying about the thematic aims/what emotion is it trying to inspire/what does this say about the endgame etc. etc., which is why character comparisons can really bore me; my focus with Anakin and Cinder is going to be primarily centred in answering the structural question of what should an appropriately tailored redemption arc look like?

It should not be lost on you that the 'young and beautiful, cursed from birth' characterisation equally applies to Kylo Ren, which is why he ends up being my shorthand comparison with Cinder. Cinder was conceived as a character before the Sequel Trilogy was fully formed and even released, and I wouldn't even say he's a conscious influence on her - but, and this is the critical point, but, their divergence in inspiration that they both take from Anakin is about the same, which is why they're interesting to think about.

Of course, once you get into the meat of the division of narrative stakes across the ensemble cast, you've also got to be asking structural questions like 'what character can be linked to Cinder's character arc?' which is all the stuff which interests me, because there is no son or daughter whose self-actualisation is realised in response to Cinder's redemption - who also happens to be the main character. Nevermind that the patriarch and matriarch, the maternal and paternal figures in the story themselves, Ozma and Salem, are already the parents to be redeemed by the children main characters. Lol.

So superficial comparison doesn't interest me, but what does interest me is looking at these similar structural ideas explored in different ways, especially the question of redemption and themes it realises... and how it can be a bad move to universalise Anakin's redemption arc for all villains (death by redemption) because it doesn't understand what it's actually achieving etc. etc. I have gone more into this topic under my redemption arcs tag, but I don't think I've explicitly done the Cinder-Anakin comparison so boldly.

#cindemption #cinder fall sadsack tag #redemption arcs #reposted because I made a not insignificant wording change to get my point across better

5 notes · View notes

useramor · 1 year

Note

I’ve seen a lot of people on social media say that the way buddie is being treated in s6 so far is how sterek was treated in s3 of teen wolf. Which was they were purposely and deliberately separated for pettiness by the writers and an insistence to make people stop shipping sterek. I didn’t watch teen wolf but is this an accurate accusation to make of how alarming it is that buddie haven’t had a meaningful conversation after the premiere in s6 yet every other pair of characters has.

(incoming long post oops)

you saw a sterek buddie comparison being made and u thought of ME? kisses u

anyway, i had never actually considered this but perhaps from a very basic overview of the season with no knowledge of sterek, that's what this looks like. yes, it's frustrating they haven't had meaningful conversation and that it seems like they're being kept apart, but the very key difference is that 911 has not made any interviews having oliver and ryan cuddling with each other to promote the show, or hyping up awards where buddie was nominated for best ship, or tweeting about buddie constantly because that's where a lot of their viewers come from.

i didn't want teen wolf s3 live, but i did watch from end of s4, and even in season 5 and 6, when tyler hoeclin (derek hale) had left the show, they were still queerbaiting and keeping the ship relevant (x x).

(also, sterek were kept separate for much of the second half of s3, not so much 3a)

so, yes, in one sense it could feel like they're treating buddie the way they treated sterek by keeping them apart. but buddie is not even CLOSE to being queerbaited the way sterek was. also, buck and eddie didn't have as many big moments in s5a as they did in s5b. i think we need to all look at s5 as an example of how well 911 does dissonance and separation so that when everything falls back into place together, it's that much more rewarding. like, seeing eddie and buck working together at a fire for the first time in an entire season in may day was so. fucking. good. 911 has a tendency to pull characters apart only to bring them back together (and we as a fandom have a tendency to get antsy about that because we forget).

is it annoying? yes. do i think it's what happened with sterek? no. especially when sterek didn't have nearly as many canon roots as buddie does (sure, it's implied that stiles was derek's anchor, but eddie point blank said buck is christopher's legal guardian).

another thing with teen wolf is that sterek got HUGE very quickly, and when the show realized that they kind of cut sterek off cold turkey (most of the sterek fandom is based around head canons anyway). buddie has been building and building steadily since s2, and the fandom has only grown with the show and the seasons. if the writers hated buddie and didn't want people shipping it, they wouldn't have given us the tsunami arc, 'wanna go for the title?', the well scene, the shooting, the will, eddie's breakdown, co-parenting, the couch convo, etc. sterek was s1-2 heavy because when they realized the fandom was getting genuinely big, they said 'oh fuck this' and went heavy on the stalia and the stydia and gave derek a love interest that wasn't batshit insane.

honestly, watching a show with hopes that a non canon lgbt ship is going to get together can sometimes be incredibly frustrating, disheartening, and it can seriously ruin the show for you because you feel kind of cheated out of representation that's so glaringly obvious how could they not see it! and i get you. i am you. but at the same time, if you're losing hope and it's making you sad that every week they seem to distance themselves, maybe you should stop watching with the hopes that they get together, and start watching to make fun little headcanons and write little spec fics. the best part of fandom, in my opinion, isn't just the getting to see your ship kiss on screen part. there's fics and edits and fanart and gifs and so many ways to engage with the content aside from just viewing it. it's truly so wonderful.

personally, i do think buddie will get together and i don't see similarities to sterek. sure, they're both popular non-canon mlm ships, but i have a lot more faith in buddie than i EVER had in sterek. we'll be good :)

anyway tl;dr, i don't think this is the same thing as sterek because, despite the distance, nothing else is being treated the same. 911 is just doing what 911 does best—making us sit and wait because we know the reward will be so worth it in the long run.

sorry for sort of rambling and i hope this answered ur question anon!!

#THIS IS SO LONG #any sterek buddie girlies (gn) pls feel free to add on #anon #bia gets mail #buddie meta #sterek #posting this before the episode bc what if things change tonight LMAO

14 notes · View notes

arvinsescape · 3 years

Text

The Princess and the Guard.

A/N: I am so sorry that this took me so long to update, I promise I will update more regularly from now on!! I hope you all enjoy!

This series is not historically accurate and is not intended to be so please bare that in mind when you are reading, I am no real expert on how royalty works (even if I am from England).

This series will contain misogynistic language and views, violence, death and nsfw content. I will always put the relevant warnings into each chapter!

Teaser, Chapter one, Chapter two, Chapter three, Chapter four.

Warnings: Language, mentions of sex, bad relationship with mum (abusive).

W/C: 2.7K

Chapter four:

You’d felt Tom leave the bed an hour prior, the exhaustion from the day before still weighed heavy as you felt him give you a swift kiss before leaving the room. You’d fallen back into a deep sleep when your brother came through the door.

“Mother has chosen someone.” He said in a panic. You jolted from your spot in bed, eyes blown wide at the wakeup call.

“What? No, that’s too fast. How has she chosen someone already?” You ranted.

“I don’t think you’re going to like it.” He smiled sadly at you and your stomach turned.

“Who?” You asked, deep down you knew the answer.

“The Duke, Oliver.” You knew he was going to say it, but the news still upset you, still made your stomach drop somewhere into the centre of the Earth. You felt a few tears spring to your eyes, this was already moving too fast. “I’m sorry.” Harrison sighed, the sad smile still prominent.

Annie was getting you ready for the ridiculous meeting you were to have with your mother and the duke.

“Do you ever wish you could have a different life?” You asked as she brushed through your hair, her eyes met yours in the mirror for a short time.

“Sometimes,” she sighed.

“I do,” you said confidently, as she put the brush down as she looked at you. “I hate this life. I wish I was free to marry who I wanted, not have the expectation of carrying on the family name.” You huffed.

“You don’t want children?” She asked shocked, she always thought you did, ever since you were little when you had the dreams of a small princess and a perfect life.

“I do. I don’t know, I just don’t want my children to grow up not knowing what love is.” You answered honestly. “I don’t want them to grow up looking at their parents, who don’t love each other, and think that’s love.” You’d always wondered whether or not your parents shared the bond of love, you were never sure. You wanted your children to grow up without that doubt.

You sat there in the meeting room, your groom to be sat across from you as you looked at each other, you barely knew the man. Yet you were supposed to marry him. He slid a box across the table at you, you picked it up, opening it.

“I brought you a ring.” He said, you studied it. It was possibly the most hideously loud ring you’d ever seen. You caught your mother’s eye, and she gave you a stern look.

“Thank you, it’s lovely.” You deserved an award for that lie.

“So, I was thinking of a short engagement. Maybe a wedding by the end of the summer.” Your mother spoke and you had to stop your jaw from dropping, your stomach turning for what felt like the thousandth time that day.

“That’s a month away.” You almost whispered.

“Yes, well, like I said a short engagement.” Your mother said almost mockingly, she was doing this on purpose.

“That sounds good to me.” Oliver said, smug look on his face. Of course he was going to have a smug look on his face, he was to become a Prince by the end of next month.

“Perfect.” Your mother spoke before you could open your mouth. You felt bored again, zoning out of the conversation. You tried to make it look like you were interested but you weren’t doing a great job, your mother had caught your eye a few times, shooting you a look.

“Now all we need to do is sign the papers.” Your mother said, pulling you from your thoughts. Your head snapping to hers.

“What? Why?” You asked in a rush.

“The contract. There’s no going back from this.” Your mother said, smug look on her face. She was very much doing this on purpose you realised.

“Mother, may I speak with you for a moment?” You asked, eyes shooting to Oliver, begging him to leave the room, he seemingly got the message as he stood, taking a bow before exiting the room. “You have no right to decide my future like this.” You snapped at your mother, she furrowed her brows, it was a look you were so familiar with. She was angry.

“Your future was decided long before you were born. You have no choice in the matter, we gave you the choice and instead you behaved like a child.” She said, her tone was firm, she was refraining from shouting you could tell. Your anger had matched hers by this point.

“Why? Because I do not love any of them? I can barely stand the men you have made me choose from.”

“You have a duty, we have been over this.”

“Why does duty have to mean marriage? Why can I not marry someone that I love? What difference will it make? I’ll never be queen.” You said as you went to stand, your mother’s hand shot out, firmly grasping your own, making you sit. Her grip was like a viper’s, it hurt, you felt tears spring to your eyes as she dug her nails into the skin on the back of your hand.

“You will do as you are told. You will stop questioning me. You are an ungrateful little brat, most women would kill to be who you are. Now, I have had enough, you will take that pen and you will sign your name.” She said, firm grip still on your hand, you felt the skin break as a tear slipped from your cheek.

She used her free hand to pass you the pen, you took it into your own free hand and signed the papers.

“May I be excused?” You asked firmly, voice not faltering as you imagined it would.

“Yes. Now clean yourself up and learn to behave. Do not cross me again.” She hissed out as she let go of your hand, you stood, hastily making your way out of the room. As soon as you got out, you let all the tears fall, your hand was in an incredible amount of pain as you examined the damage. It was bleeding slightly, small marks that resembled your mother’s fingernails had made a home on the back of your hand.

You made your way into your bedroom, tears streaming down your face as you collapsed on the bed. Annie instantly rushing to your side.

“Princess? What happened?” She asked as she encouraged you to sit on the edge of the bed with her. “Who did this?” She asked frantically as she examined your hand. She didn’t give you any chance to respond as she disappeared to fetch some alcohol and rags. “Here, let me fix that before it gets infected.” She said as you placed your hand in hers.

You watched as she cleared the blood, wincing slightly as the alcohol made its way into your cuts.

“I hate her. I hate all of this.” You whimpered out, a fresh wave of tears making their way down your face. Annie had wrapped your hand up by this point as she looked at you. “My mother was never the loving type.” You sniffled as you held your injured hand up to her.

“Should I call for your brother?” She asked. You felt lost, felt like you didn’t know what to do, you’d just signed your life away, in one meeting, you’d signed away any chance of happiness you could ever have.

“No,” you said weakly. “I should not bother him with this. I’m sorry.” You whimpered again as the tears returned, you couldn’t help them as they cascaded down your face like a waterfall. Your sobs became ugly as you let out all of your frustrations. You felt Annie wrap her arms around you, she seemingly didn’t know what else to do. This shocked her, she’d never seen you cry like this, even as a child.

You stayed like that for a while as she stroked your back, it was comforting, she’d always been such a good friend and you were happy that you would always have her. For as long as she wanted to work for you, you’d have her. You heard your bedroom door open and snapped your head up, your father stood there as he took in the sight before him.

“Thank you Annie.” Your father said as he dismissed her from the room. He sat next to you on the edge of the bed, taking your injured hand in his own, he sighed. “Your mother is upset with you.” He smiled sadly as you sniffled, tears dying down.

“I just don’t understand!” You let out frustratedly. “You are the King, can you not do something?”

“Like you,” he sighed, “I have a lot expected of me.”

“I don’t want to marry him.” You’d always found your father the more loving parent, when in private he never expected you to speak properly, he was always the more gentle of the two. You never doubted his love for you.

“I know my love, but we can’t have everything we want. Not when we’re born into this.” He said sadly, dropping your hand.

“Mother talks as if it’s some sort of blessing.” You said bitterly.

“Do you know who you remind me of?” He smiled and you furrowed your brows in response. “Me. I never wanted this either.” He admitted, you’d always been honest with each other, but this was the first time you’d ever had a conversation about the life you were born into. The answer shocked you, he’d been brought up knowing he was going to be King.

“What?” You asked, utterly confused.

“Harrison was luckier than you and I will ever be.” He said as he played with his wedding ring.

“You mean?” You asked as you trailed off.

“Yes. I married your mother because it was expected of me. I’d never even met her until the day I married her.” He admitted, sad smile on his face and you felt bad for him, he had been put in the same position you had, and you wondered if it was your father that had been the reason you didn’t marry at eighteen, your mother had wanted you to. You wondered if he’d held off as long as he could, he never forced it on Harrison, he was just lucky to have found someone he loved in time.

“Have you ever been in love?” You asked. Now you knew the answer to the question you’d wondered for years. Your parents didn’t love each other, as you’d suspected but you wondered if he’d ever found love.

“Yes. There was a woman many years ago, a maid. I loved her. Sadly, she passed though.” He said, sad smile on his face. You were shocked by the answer, he’d been seeing someone in private for years and never been caught.

“Did mother ever…” You trailed off, your mother surely would have said something had she known.

“Neither of us have been faithful.” He sadly admitted. “Do you understand what it is I’m trying to tell you?” He asked and you thought for a minute before you answered.

“As long as the public think I’m doing the right thing, it doesn’t matter what I do in private?” You asked and he nodded as he reached out and flicked your nose, just like he did when you were a child. It pulled a smile from you.

“There we go. You and your brother are the only happy thing to come from my marriage to your mother.”

“If you could, would you let me marry someone I loved?” You asked, you had to know.

“Of course I would. I’ve always hoped that you’d be smarter than I was. I’ve always hoped you’d be the one to find a way around it.” He said and you smiled sadly at him.

“The contract is signed, it’s too late.” You huffed out.

“It’s never too late.” He said and you looked at him, you truly loved your father, he was the only parent you’d ever had a close bond with and looking at him now, listening to what he’d just said, you realised just how much you loved your father, just how good of a man he truly was.

“What if I’ve found the man I love? The one I want to risk it all for?” You asked, you weren’t going to tell your father about Tom, but you had to ask.

“Why do you think I’m here?” He teased and your heart froze. He knew. You panicked for a moment, what did this mean for Tom? Was he going to be punished?

“What? How?” You stumbled out in your shock.

“I’m not as oblivious as your mother. I am no fool. I’ve seen how the looks between you have changed over the last couple of months. Be careful, your mother can never know.” He said sternly and you nodded as you hugged him.

You felt hopeful again, more determined as you watched him leave the room. He was saying that you had more control than you thought. As long as you did what was expected of you and was careful behind closed doors you could have what you wanted. You realised that you’d have to let your head lead for a while so you could fill the needs of your heart, you could still have Tom, it didn’t mean it had to end, just that you’d have to be more careful. You wanted to give Tom something that couldn’t be decided for you, something that was his.

“You have the night off.” You said to Annie, a bright smile on your face.

“I’m supposed to be working tonight.” She said shyly.

“I’m giving you the night off, go and do something fun, please.” You insisted and she smiled as she nodded. “Before you do go please can you do me one final job?”

“Anything Princess.”

“Please can you summon my brother?”

She did as you asked and within minutes your brother was at your bedroom door, you ushered him inside.

“What on earth could you want so late in the evening?” He asked.

“Where there many guards on your way here?” You asked.

“No. They’ve all been reassigned to help get Oliver’s room ready.” He furrowed his brows. “Why?”

“Can you please send Tom?” You asked and your brother laughed.

“You need to be more careful.” He teased.

“Harrison, please?” You sighed. “I just want to see him, I’ve had a trying day.” You said and Harrison smiled before kissing your cheek.

“Of course little sister.”

Within ten minutes you heard a knock at your door, you opened it, hastily pulling Tom by the arm into the room, he completely baffled at your action as you shut the door before locking it.

“Princess?” He said with raised brows, and you turned to look at him. Your nerves had set in, your palms becoming sweaty. He took note of the look in your eyes and took your hands in his, furrowing his eyes as he saw the bandage. “What happened?” He asked, eyes snapping to your own.

“It doesn’t matter.” You said as you pulled your hand from his. “Tom, I want to give you something, something that’s been yours for a long time.” You spoke more confidently than you felt. His brows furrowed in response.

“Princess, you don’t have to give me anything.” He said, he had no idea what you were talking about.

“I do. I want you to have it, I want it to be you.”

“Want what to be me? Princess you aren’t making much sense.” He said as he cupped your cheek, taking in the frantic look in your eye. “Calm down. It’s just me.” He reassured as he placed a sweet kiss to your forehead. You breathed in a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves as you spoke.

“Tom, I want it to be you that takes my virginity. It’s yours, I want you to have it.”

Taglist: @allthisfortommy , @bi-lmg , @bigassnocash , @thoughtfulfireangelpersona , @aidinniram , @minejungwoo , @hommyy-tommy , @nellabellaa , @tomhollandsslut , @justsomebodyweird , @sinisterspidey , @marantha

If you would like to be added to the taglist, please let me know!! 💕

#tom holland au #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x royal reader #tom holland

67 notes · View notes

multimilfs · 3 years

Text

Farah Dowling x Fem!Reader: Getting You Home

Summary: Anon requested “Hey ummmm, Can u do a farah x reader I haven’t found any and I really really wanna reade one, so if I can thanks”

A/N: Honestly, I was writing this WAY before that was requested, but it fulfills the request sooo... This is obnoxiously long, I’m so sorry skdjhfks, let me go hide. Also, it was so hard to find a gif of Farah, I need some talented giffers to make more :(

Tag List: @ghostsunderstoodmysoul @multifandomfix

Warning(s): None

“This isn’t a subject we need to discuss.”

Through the small sound-enhancer, Aisha heard Ms. Dowling’s voice grow tense. Strained with emotion. She didn’t understand what was causing the reaction; she’d only just begun to listen. Usually it felt invasive to listen in, but this felt too interesting to stop.

“Yes, we do. You can’t ignore this forever, Farah.” Silva sighed.

“I’m not ignoring anything. She’s never been relevant to the conversation.”

“She has. We let it slide because you didn’t want to talk about it.” Professor Harvey interjected.

A silence filled the room. The tension was so palpable that Aisha could feel it from her place outside of the office. It nearly made her stop listening, but to her luck, someone broke it just in time.

“I know it’s hard, but she was closer to Rosalind than any of us. She must have said something to you,” Silva prodded gently, “Maybe she left something behind in her files…”

“You don’t think I thought of that years ago?” Ms. Dowling snapped.

“We’re just trying to understand.”

“If you want to understand, perhaps you should visit her grave. Maybe she’ll talk back this time.”

Another uncomfortable silence followed Ms. Dowling’s statement. It left Aisha confused, but she didn’t have time to think about it. She could hear the scraping of chairs as Professor Harvey and Headmaster Silva sighed. They weren’t going to get anywhere with the conversation, so they decided to take their leave before the situation got more tense.

Frantically, the young fairy shoved the sound-enhancer under a cabinet, grabbing a random stack of papers. It wasn’t necessary. The two men barely spared her a glance as they left and Ms. Dowling didn’t leave her office. It left her completely confused and invested; this was something to share with her suite-mates.

----

“Did they drop a name anywhere?”

“No, they just kept referring to ‘her.’ Apparently she was someone close to Rosalind. Very close.” Aisha explained.

“Rosalind was Ms. Dowling’s mentor, who could be closer than that?” Bloom asked, looking around at her friends for ideas.

“Someone who was like a daughter,” Stella said softly, “One of the only things stronger than a mentor bond is a familial one.”

“So… we’re looking for someone who was like a daughter to Rosalind. That’ll be easy.” Bloom said sarcastically.

“It’s better than nothing.” Musa pointed out.

“It’s basically a crumb.”

“Well, then we need to play mouse and follow it. Come on.” Stella had enough of sitting around and waiting. She grabbed a jacket and her phone, before walking out of the room. The rest of the girls saw no other option than to follow.

They snuck through the halls and back to the East wing of Alfea. It felt like they’d gone through all of the information there, but they made an effort to scan it all with new eyes.

Bloom was having an especially difficult time, as she still hadn’t learned enough about Rosalind herself. Now, she was on a mission to find someone who’d known her. She hoped that whoever she was, she could offer her information.

Things grew quiet besides the shuffling of papers and Terra’s occasional humming, when the shuffling grew a bit quieter all of a sudden. Bloom turned to see Stella looking down at a framed picture.

“Stel?” Musa said softly, coming to stand next to her friend.

There in the picture was Silva, Harvey, Dowling, Rosalind, and another face Musa couldn’t recognize. But it looked kinder than all of the others. More gentle.

“That’s… That’s my Aunt.” Stella whispered.

“What?”

“I don’t understand. She can’t be…” Stella’s voice cracked, a rogue tear rolling down her cheek.

“I’m afraid she might be, Stel.” Aisha said, pulling the girl into a side-hug.

“What’s her name?” Bloom asked suddenly.

They were all more focused on comforting Stella, but Bloom had that wild look in her eyes. The one that made them realize she wasn’t going to give this up, not now.

“Y/N Y/L/N, but only after she gave up her title.” Stella said.

Bloom seemed to tear through the files around her, but they yielded barely anything. No information about Rosalind, or what her goals had been. Even less of Y/N, second Princess to the Solarian throne. It was like the memories of them had been wiped.

Letting out a frustrated noise, Bloom felt the papers in her hand burn. The files were no use. She turned, following the hallways out of the East wing.

“Bloom, where are you going?!” Aisha called out behind her.

“To get answers!”

----

Overcome by her anger, Bloom didn’t hesitate before she barged into the headmistresses office. Ms. Dowling looked up at her sharply, her lips pursing.

“Bloom, I don’t have time-”

“Who is Y/N Y/L/N?” Bloom demanded.

Any color that had been there drained from Farah’s face. She looked almost like a ghost, compared to the strong woman Bloom knew. A pang of regret hit her. But then the headmistress seemed to recover from her emotion.

“Nobody you need to concern yourself with.” Farah said harshly.

“She is if she knew Rosalind. Maybe she knew why-”

“Y/N was dead before Rosalind would’ve left you in the Other realm.”

Bloom felt like the air had left her lungs. She’d been poking carelessly around the memory of a dead woman. Specifically one who’d been gone before her situation. She felt horrible about it, but she also felt at a complete loss for words.

“If she had known about you… about what Rosalind was doing, she wouldn’t have let her abandon you. She probably would have insisted on caring for you herself, stubborn woman,” Farah laughed, though it was full of sadness, “But Rosalind killed her, Bloom. Do you see why that is a woman you should be glad to not know?”

“I guess.” Bloom whispered.

“You and I will learn of your background together, but I need you to have patience. I can’t find answers if I’m having to manage you.”

“Right… I’m really sorry, Ms. Dowling.”

“I know.”

As the fire fairy left her office, Farah put her head in her hands. It had been so long since anyone had spoken of you. Though she thought about you everyday. The sudden change was almost enough to make her head spin.

Farah wasn’t herself for years after losing you. Too often was she reminded of you and her resolve would crumble. Harvey had acted as interim headmaster for a year while she grieved. The moment of weakness wasn’t something she was proud of. She’d taken up a strong mantle as headmistress, projecting anything less was an abandonment of her post.

It was still difficult to think about you, but she could never push your memory away completely. Things you would say, how you’d handle a situation, they all ran through her mind. Sometimes she swore that she could hear your voice in her ear, steering her right. Calm and level-headed even in the worst moments.

Opening her desk drawer, she pulled out a small photo. The edges well-worn from the dozens of times she’d held it.

There, looking up at her, was your smiling face. She was there as well, focused on you with a subtle smile. You were holding up your hand and pointing to the new ring there. She couldn’t remember a time where you’d been more happy than that day. It made her heart ache.

She knew that it was important to find answers without Rosalind. For Bloom. For you.

----

“Well? Did you get anything?” Stella demanded, seeing Bloom enter the suite.

But Bloom didn’t respond. She sat down on the couch, as if in a trance. Sad and angry tears in her eyes, waiting to be spilled down her cheeks. The rest of the fairies gathered around worriedly.

“Bloom… Did Stella’s aunt know anything about why you were left in the other realm?” Aisha asked quietly, sitting down next to the fire fairy.

“No, um, Rosalind… Rosalind killed her before she left me there,” Bloom said, voice shaking as she wiped falling tears off of her cheeks. She couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh, “Ms. Dowling said that if she’d known she probably would have, um, taken me in.”

Silence followed as Bloom cried bitterly into her hands, Aisha pulling her into a strong hug. Musa winced at the pain radiating off of her friend.

“I could have been raised here and maybe found my birth parents, but now I’ll never know.” Bloom whispered.

While all of the other girls gathered around Bloom, Stella stayed against the frame to her room. Something was bothering her. She was just having trouble figuring out what it was.

“Bloom, when were you left in the other realm?” Stella asked.

“Um, sometime in December. Of 2004.”

The blonde’s eyebrows furrowed frustratedly, before it came to her. Then her eyes widened.

“Something doesn’t make sense.” Stella said out loud.

“What are you talking about, Stel?”

“My Aunt was there on my third birthday. It’s the only real memory I have of her.”

They looked at one another, shock on their faces. Bloom’s eyes sparkled with hope. Maybe finding answers wasn’t completely a loss, maybe you’d known something all along.

“Then maybe she’s…” Terra started.

“Alive.” Stella and Bloom said in unison.

Their eyes met, both of them knowing exactly what to do. But first, they had to convince Ms. Dowling.

----

“I thought we settled this matter, Bloom, I really don’t have the time or patience for this.” Farah sighed without looking up from her work, only one fairy was bold enough to barge into her office.

“Is there a chance she could be alive?” Bloom asked, ignoring the headmistress’ words.

Farah could feel her interest being piqued, but didn’t give it much thought. She’d been there. There was no way that you were alive, not now. Certainly not without her knowing.

“I would know if she was alive. So no, there is no chance.”

“Think about it, Ms. Dowling,” Stella jumped in, “Did you ever bury her?”

She tried to dampen the way her heart lurched. The news of losing you had left her frail emotionally. Harvey and Silva had agreed to make arrangements and she’d never asked for the details, she’d never felt strong enough to hear them.

Taking in a deep breath, she focused her eyes on all of the girls. She couldn’t handle this situation alone. Not if it was heading in the direction she thought.

“Sit down, girls.”

----

It had taken several hours and many arguments, but they had finally agreed on a plan; Farah would lower the barrier to her underground tunnels, allowing Bloom to speak with Rosalind. Nobody was completely confident in the plan, but they agreed it was likely the best possible scenario. If Farah or someone else went, Rosalind wouldn’t open up. She wanted to speak with Bloom.

That is exactly who they’d give her.

The group trudged quietly through the tunnels, Stella conveniently lighting the way. Bloom was practically vibrating with anticipation. The only thing keeping her with the group was Aisha’s grip on her hand.

Arriving at the small alcove to Rosalind’s area, they all stopped. Farah came to stand directly in front of the young fire fairy.

“You know what to do?” Farah asked.

“Get in, poke around about who I am, ask the questions, get out.” Bloom repeated back with an eye roll.

On a normal day, Farah would have been quick to reprimand Bloom for her actions. She didn’t have it in her today. Right now it was about getting answers, not respect.

“We’ll be ready at a moment's notice, should you need us for anything.” Silva spoke up.

He was standing quietly behind the group of fairies, watching the interaction happen. It wasn’t difficult to read the unease in Bloom’s face; the way her eyes darted around, how she kept rocking from one foot to the other. He’d trained dozens of anxious soldiers to know.

“And we mean anything.” Farah added, giving Silva an appreciative look.

“I get it, but I’ll be fine. I know what I’m doing.”

Farah wanted to argue that no, you have absolutely no idea what you’re doing, but refrained. They didn’t have the time. It was important that they accomplish this before dinner, so nobody wondered as to where they’d been.

Bloom turned and walked up the small set of stairs, out of sight, but finally laying her eyes on Rosalind and the barrier trapping her. The woman’s eyes opened and she wanted to step back, but didn’t.

“Bloom…” Rosalind’s voice echoed in her mind.

“Rosalind?”

“I knew you’d find your way here.”

“I didn’t think I would. You couldn’t have left some instructions on where to find you?”

“Your mind is not as safe as you’d believe. But it will be, in time.” Rosalind said, eyes almost unblinking.

“It could already be, if you’d kept me here. Why… Why did you send me away?”

For a moment, Bloom nearly felt her resolve slip. She knew the plan, but she also had her own. There were answers she needed.

“It wasn’t safe here.”

“You couldn’t have left me with, I don’t know, my parents? My biological ones? Or my mother, at least. She could have kept me safe in the castle. I could have learned and been protected the whole time.” Bloom said. Calling on all of the pain and anguish she felt, she brought tears to her own eyes.

“Bloom, what are you saying?” Rosalind’s face scrunched up ever-so-slightly inside the barrier. For the first time in a long time, she felt she was truly missing something.

“My mother. She was in Solaria the whole time and you took me from her! I could have grown up with her and learned magic with Stella, under my aunt Luna. It all could’ve been perfect.”

The fire fairy’s voice broke on the end of the sentence, closing her eyes against the emotions she was feeling. She was trying not to say too much or over-do anything.

“You think that your mother was the princess of Solaria?”

Rosalind’s laugh echoed in her ears, grating on her nerves. It may have been an act, but her anger at the other fairy wasn’t. She’d been abandoned and lied to for too long.

“I know she is. She told me herself, which is something you couldn’t have bothered with!” She snapped.

“That’s impossible, you silly girl. The only way Y/N could do anything is if Luna-“

Bloom couldn’t help the triumphant grin that spread across her face. Rosalind’s eyes widened just enough for Bloom to feel satisfied. She’d tricked a mind fairy, arguably the best to come from Alfea. And it felt good.

“So she’s been in the Solarian castle this whole time,” Bloom states, crossing her arms over her chest, “Thank you so much for that bit of information.”

“You little-“

“Little what? Whatever you call me, you still have to admit that I beat you. Anyway, thanks for your help. I won’t be needing anything more from you.”

Bloom turned to leave, ignoring the protests in her mind from Rosalind. The cruel comments and unhinged promises. It all faded out as she walked away, coming face-to-face with her friends.

“Well?” Farah asked, raising an eyebrow.

“She’s somewhere in the Solarian castle. Queen Luna apparently has her there. That’s all I could get before she realized what was happening.” Bloom said with a shrug, stuffing her hands in her pockets.

Farah took a step back, looking with wide eyes to Silva. He looked just as surprised as she did. It wasn’t everyday that you found out someone you cared for had never died at all.

“How do we get to her?” Professor Harvey asked, looking between his two friends.

The unfortunate thing was she had no idea.

“I can do it.”

They all looked to Stella, who was attempting to look confident in her decision. It wasn’t working very well.

“I won’t ask that of you.” Farah said.

“You’re not. I’m offering. She means something to me too, and I’m the only one who could get around the castle without suspicion.”

Despite their desires, they knew Stella was right. She’d be the only one who could get to you. It didn’t matter what they all wanted, they had to focus on logic first.

“Alright, then. What’s the plan?”

——

It was relatively simple. Spring holiday had only been a few days away. Instead of the girls going home, Queen Luna allowed them to visit the castle with Stella. Just this once.

They agreed not to go searching on the first night. It’d seem too eager and they’d probably cue someone in on accident. The second night was better.

So once Queen Luna had seemingly gone to bed, the fairies left Stella’s room to ‘explore’ the castle. Through the winding hallways and up the ornate staircases, they managed to avoid contact with anyone else. Until they reached the door separating the West wing from the rest of the castle.

Two guards stood inside of the door, in front of a bedroom. Stella couldn’t see inside, but she knew without a doubt you were there. Nobody was allowed in the West wing.

“Alright, I’ll go in and talk to the guards. You hide until I give the signal, alright?” Stella whispered.

“Stel, what if you can’t hold the illusion for long enough?” Terra asked, looking worriedly to her friend.

“Don’t worry. I’ve been practicing. Now go, hide.”

Smoothing down her skirts and straightening her shoulders, Stella walked through the door. The guards on the other side froze upon seeing her.

“Your highness, you’re not meant to be in this part of the castle.”

“It’s quite alright, Damian. My mother knows I’m here to see her.” Stella said confidently.

After putting on an act in school for so long, it was a breeze when it came to the guards. Though for a moment she worried they would try to confirm with her mother. Then their shoulders relaxed, sending her worry away.

“Of course, your highness. Go in.” Damian bowed and opened the door.

Letting out a slow breath, Stella stepped into the room. It was large, but it felt almost clinical. Everything was perfectly neat and tidy, except for the desk space. On it were spreads of books and notebooks with words written in scraggly cursive.

Just in front of the window was a chair. The large back and arms nearly hid you completely, but she could make out the top of your head.

Stella suddenly felt lost for words. She’d heard countless stories of you, had brief memories from when she was a child. This was completely different. How did she introduce herself? Or even explain why she was here?

“You know, it’s quite rude to stare.”

She froze as you turned around, a teasing grin on your face. But then you looked confused. You didn’t recognize her.

“I’m sorry, I meant to say something…. I just lost my words.” Stella said quietly.

“And who might you be? You’re certainly not my usual guard.” You asked.

You stood up slowly, a wince on your face for the briefest moments. Then you gave Stella a kind smile.

She couldn’t help but notice your arms; bare from the elbow down, with painful cork-screw shaped pieces of metal digging into your skin. From them your veins were dark against your skin, black and unnatural.

“You’re injured.” Stella said, looking around for something to help you.

“Shackled, but the injuries come with it.” You sighed.

“Those are meant to do that?”

“They’re meant to be a short-term option. So not really, no, but Luna didn’t have another option.”

“She did this to you?”

“Dear, who else do you think had the power to?” You asked, looking confused, “You never told me who you were.”

Overcome with an unusual shyness, she attempted a smile. It probably looked more painful than it should have, but it was the least of her worries.

“I’m Stella, auntie.” She admitted.

Your eyebrows almost raised to your hairline as you looked Stella over. The last time you’d seen one another, Stella was a three year old with long, blonde pigtails. It felt like there was no way it was really her. But you could see it was, in the way she smiled timidly and wrung her hands together.

“My Stella? Well… you sure have changed.” You breathed out.

“It’s crazy what 14 years will do.” She joked.

You couldn’t help but laugh. She was absolutely right. 14 years did a lot to people, especially you. Now that you knew who she was, you attempted to pull your sleeves over the tools binding your magic.

“Why are you here?” You asked.

“Oh! I’m here to break you out, actually.”

“Break me out?”

“That’s what I said. I brought some friends to help, too, they’re just waiting for me to signal them.”

“Stella…. I don’t think that is such a good idea. Your mother would be furious.” You said, gently lowering yourself onto the stool by your desk.

“Don’t you want to leave? To get out of here?” She asked.

“Of course I do! More than anything… but not if it risks you getting hurt. I’ve lived a nice life. You won’t get the same thing if you anger your mother.”

A feeling of guilt rested in your heart as you remembered the life you had; how Rosalind, and subsequently Luna, had cut it all short. You ached for everything you once had. A sprawling life at Alfea, your fianceé, classes full of students to teach. All of it was lost in an instant. Taken away by the woman you’d seen as a mother to you.

You wanted to return to that life more than you’d ever wanted something. But you knew your disappearance would lead to a harsh punishment for Stella. The hurt Luna could inflict was something you’d never wish on her.

“She’s already ruined my life, Aunt Y/N. Please just let me do this one thing for you.”

The vulnerable, open anguish on Stella’s face put the severity of everything into context. In a castle full of people, it was likely that you were the only one willing to stand up to Luna. And she’d subsequently stifled your magic and thrown you into a room. Nobody had been there to protect Stella.

“Alright, but I need to get out of these cuffs,” You said, referring to your arms, “It’s going to take a lot of concentrated magic.”

“Let me get my friends.” Stella said.

You nodded, watching as she rushed to the door, before slipping through it. Absentmindedly, you wondered how she was going to sneak her friends into the room. Then she came back, seemingly alone, until she let the magic drop. Four other fairies stood with her; examining you and the room closely, with open interest.

“How much magic do you need?” Stella asked, stepping forward.

“A lot, but don’t strain yourselves. If you can’t get them off, we’ll find another way.” You said with a reassuring smile.

The girls all looked determined, but you didn’t want to create an issue. Draining your magic could be deadly. And for first-years who had little practice with large magical events, it would be all too easy for such a thing to happen.

“All you have to do is focus your magic on them.”

Looking to one another, then to you, they nodded. Then they each placed a hand on the shackles and closed their eyes. Usually it was a witches’ eyes that signalled the use of their magic, but now it was their hands; glowing various colors as they focused.

The inky blackness that had flooded your veins was receding slowly, until the shackles popped; falling to the floor with a hollow clang. For the first time in 14 years, your senses were overwhelmed. You could finally feel that faint hum of magic in your blood again. Color returned to your cheeks as you smiled.

“Thank you, girls. I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you’ve come,” You said honestly, “Now, what’s the plan?”

“We’re supposed to plant an illusion box near the door, so the guards won’t know you're missing yet. Then we can get you off of the castle grounds. Someone is waiting there to take you back to Alfea.” Bloom explained.

“I can hold my manipulation long enough to get us all out by the gates. So we don’t have to worry about being seen.” Stella added.

“That’s a lot of magic, Stel.”

“I can manage it, I’ve been practicing.”

Though you worried, you weren’t going to waste time arguing. The more time you spent standing around, the more time you were losing to get away. It was now or never.

----

“Will you be okay?” You asked Stella.

Of course you were excited to cross the barrier, to be free again. The vehicle waiting to take you to Alfea made your heart leap. You’d dreamt for years of leaving, now it was finally real. But you didn’t want anyone to take the fall for your escape.

“She likely won’t realize until we go back to Alfea.” Stella said with a shrug.

Overcome with a burst of emotion, you pulled Stella into a tight hug. You pulled the other girls into it as well. Staying there for a long moment, you wished that it was easier to express how grateful you were to these girls.

You pulled away, giving them all a watery smile. Then you turned, walking through the barrier slowly. And you didn’t look back; too focused on the vehicles sitting right in front of you. The dark color so obtrusive and bold, like a stain against the bright foliage. Out of place, and yet, comforting.

One of the dark doors opened, the hollow noise sending a jolt up your spine. A familiar face stepped out and sent another wave of emotion through you. Longing, completely and wholly shooting through your heart. An emotion you’d hidden from even yourself.

“Farah?” You called out, voice full of disbelief.

“Y/N… Oh, Y/N…”

Farah moved towards you, enveloping you in her arms. It almost didn’t feel real; like she was a mirage in the drought that’d become your life. But she was.

She was skin and bone and warmth. Her strong arms made you feel safe, grounded to the earth like you’d only been wandering before. You could feel the hum of her magic too. Strong tears threatened to fall as you buried your face in her neck.

“Farah...” You whispered, like the same way you’d whisper a prayer or blessing; the reverence dripping from your lips.

You dug your nails into her clothing, holding her as close as she could get. For just a moment, the reality of the last 14 years vanished, leaving only the two of you. Only you and your fianceé locked in a powerful embrace.

She pulled away reluctantly to cup your face in her palms. The warmth there soothed you. Closing your eyes, you leaned into her touch.

“Darling, you’re shaking.” Farah whispered, worry evident in her tone, “Come. Let’s get you back to Alfea.”

Absentmindedly, you noticed your friends were in the front seat, but you didn’t give them much beyond a wave. Exhaustion was creeping in slowly. The brightness behind your eyes was turning into something else; an alluring nothingness. And leaning your head onto Farah’s shoulder, you let yourself succumb to it.

----

“How are you feeling?”

Squinting through your eyelashes, you could see the subtle frown on her features. The worry lines on her forehead. It made you smile and release a huff of amusement. For so long, you’d been the one to worry about her. Oh how the tables had turned.

“I’d feel better if you’d lay here with me.” You said softly.

Farah sat on the edge of the bed with a small eye roll. You noticed that she was wearing her nice clothing, which meant it wasn’t as early as you’d thought.

“I’ll lay with you for five minutes, then I have a meeting.” She conceded.

The worry lines on her face eased as you gave her a blinding smile. While you’d been asleep, a million scenarios had run through her head. It’d overridden her rational thought. The concerns plagued her until now, when she saw that you were doing better than expected.

She stretched out beside you, smoothing a piece of hair behind your ear. You leaned into the gesture without thinking. The comfort she brought you, simply by being near, was enough to sustain you for ages.

Lulled by her soft breathing and the gentle kisses she pressed to your skin, your eyes slipped closed. Sending you back into a deep sleep.

----

As it does, Alfea moved forward without issue. You fell back into your old duties with a renewed sense of purpose. It was almost like before; the lunches with Farah, Saul, and Harvey, the challenges a school full of students presented. Except for one distinct difference; Farah handled you like you were made of glass.

What made it even worse, was that she refused to discuss what’d happened. She didn’t want to think about all the time you’d been separated. Or the horrible way you’d been kept there. She thought ignoring it would make all the pain leave.

But you knew things would never heal unless you faced them with her. Farah was strong, but she could never hurt someone she cared for.

“Farah, can I have a moment?” You said softly one evening, as the headmistress was writing something in warm lighting.

“I don’t know if I can, darling. These need to be filed tomorrow morning and I’m behind.” She answered without looking up.

Crossing the room, you gently pried the pen from her hand. When she only grabbed another one, you used your magic to hide the papers. Then she finally looked up at you with a scowl.

“It’s important.” You said.

“So important it can’t wait?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It already has - since we returned from Solaria.”

Uncertainty bloomed on her face as she looked away from you, anxiously spinning the engagement ring on her finger. You drew in a deep breath. In the face of her uncertainty, you needed to be strong.

“We can’t ignore what happened, Farah. Nor do I want to. I suffered, yes, but I’m still me. You can’t keep looking at me like a victim first, person second.” You said, placing your hand on top of hers.

“It isn’t my intention to… see you like that. But I’m reminded of how much time passed, how I failed to-”

“None of that. You thought I was dead. If you had known I was alive, you would have come for me. Which you did. You have never failed me, Farah Dowling, so don’t act like you have.”

There was a beat of silence. Long and repressive, nearly causing you to falter in your words. But you summoned the confidence Farah had taught you long ago. This was not something you would yield on.

“How can I make this right?” She asked, looking curiously into your eyes.

“Treating me like a normal person would be a nice start,” You smiled, “I’m not suddenly breakable, though there will be moments when I need extra support. We can just… take it one moment at a time.”

“One moment at a time.” She agreed.

You leant forward and stole a kiss, making her smirk. Then, with a wave of your hand, her papers reappeared. She let out a soft laugh.

As you disappeared into your shared bedroom, things felt a little easier. You felt almost like you had before the events. All thanks to a few cunning fairies and their gorgeous headmistress.

#farah dowling #fate: the winx saga #farah dowling x reader #headmistress dowling #farah dowling imagine #fate: the winx saga imagine #fate winx #wlw #wlw imagine #feb2021 #multimilfswritings

270 notes · View notes

hrwinter · 4 years

Photo

You’re not sure what you remember about home. If you try, it might be blue skies and warm summer rain that you played in for hours. It might be your mother washing the mud out of your clothes, frowning and asking if it was really necessary for you to roll that completely in the dirt. You told her you were just doing what the dog did.

You had a dog, right?

You’re not really sure.

Because the other memories you have are not blue and green and the dirt brown of your knobby childhood knees. They’re grey and orange and crispy charcoal black. The market you visited where your parents would sometimes have hushed meetings behind shaky hands, it’s rubble. The wind that used to blow the fragrance of fresh peaches and citrus, it’s ash. The home you had is gone.

You remember a voyage, long, dark, and ripe with a putrid accumulation of smells. You remember getting to see the water a few times, opal blue and ever shifting. It was beautiful. But the ship crashed or was attacked, you don’t know, and then it was back to the oranges of fire, the reds of blood, and the screams of your parents you’d never find.

You washed up on shore alone.

Although, not quite alone.

That’s when you first saw her. The crow. You’re sure of that. She’d been there, pecking at the sand near your arm, the same one still clutching the cheap large plastic debris. It had saved your life. You looked over the edge of it, coughing salt water into the surf, and you saw her.

It was weird. She’d surprised you. You’d never seen a bird so big and black, you thought, and she shuffled from foot to foot, nervous. Was she hungry? Was she scared?

You don’t get a chance to find out before a man with large hands is swatting her away. She cawed angrily, reluctant to go, but she did, maybe to a nearby tree. He shook your shoulders then and asked you who you were.

“Kara,” your voice came out in a croak, not yours.

“Kara,” he says again.

The crow cawed.

It’s years before you put the patchwork pieces of your life back together, that you find out what happened to you. That a warmongering company, LuthorCorp, helped exacerbate the tensions in your region then exploited and profited from them by selling both sides weapons. But that doesn’t become relevant for a long time. For now, you’re an immigrant, and an immigrant is not a very good thing in this new country.

It could be worse. There are other kids who are not as lucky as you. Somehow having never set foot here, you have dual citizenship. Your mother was American. So, despite the government calling your parents insurgents and traitors, they don’t try to deport you. Or keep you locked in a cage. Instead, they put you in foster care.

It’s hard. It’s toiling. It takes you a long while to learn the language. You’re shy to talk because of it.

And you’re pretty. At least, people keep telling you that you are. You’re not sure what you see when you look in the mirror. The kind, clever blue eyes of your mother. The hard line of your father’s brow when he’d reprimand you for sneaking too many cookies.

But your prettiness doesn’t feel like a good thing. The other children resent you for it. And it brings you a different kind of attention, a kind that has you cowering from your foster mom’s drunk boyfriend, a kind that has your crow swooping in and attempting to peck out his eyes. She almost manages it, but when he swings, taking hold of her, you jump into the fray, too. You would’ve killed him if your foster mother hadn’t intervened.

That’s right, your crow has followed you here, has followed you through it all. She’s in the tree outside of the window when your foster mother returns you to the group facility for being ‘cruel and violent.’

You didn’t do anything. At least, you didn’t do anything you wouldn’t do again, a hundred times over.

“We’re better off here, anyway,” you tell the crow sitting with you during lunch recess.

“Why do you talk to that thing?” a boy asks you nearby, trapping a soccer ball with his foot.

“She’s my friend.”

“Friends can’t be birds.”

Yes, they can, you think.

“She doesn’t understand you,” he feels the need to add, certain.

But she does. You know she does.

---

You’re adopted into a new home not long after that. It’s different than the others. They’re called ‘Danvers.’ Eliza and Jeremiah, your adoptive parents, they’re kind and intelligent. They encourage your natural abilities in science and math. You’re starting to get A’s for the first time in your life, and you’re less reluctant to speak in class.

You still feel like an impostor. It doesn’t seem like a reality that’s meant for you. You were meant for the bottom of the sea.

“You have a right to be here,” Eliza tells you, but that’s not how your new sister acts.

Your crow has somehow inferred the antagonism between you. One afternoon she swoops in to steal a large portion of Alex’s sandwich and drops it on your plate.

“Hey!” Alex shouts after her, but the crow merely glares at her with dark black eyes, wings ruffling on your side of the picnic table.

“You did that on purpose.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

Alex looks between two of you, wary, parsing.

“How did you train it to do that, anyway?”

“…patience?” you improvise.

“You’re lying.”

The crow caws loudly, and Alex narrows her eyes.

“Whatever, I’m going inside.”

The crow watches her leave, and you soothe her ruffled feathers with a hand. The sheen of them always makes them seem oily, but they’re not at all. Her feathers are soft, and she preens a little under the touch. You gives her a nickel to play with. Maybe you’ll actually try to train her.

So, you make her puzzles. She seems somewhat competent in checkers. You read to her. Her favorite stories are fairy tales. Her favorite foods are unsalted peanuts, boiled eggs, shell and all. She likes apples too (you painstakingly removes the seeds, they’re bad for birds.) You feed her from the window. She sleeps in the tree there and follows you to school and back every single day. She watches you organize quarters for a state collection, nipping slightly at the plastic casing.

“I already gave you Iowa,” you tell her.

She clicks her beak back at you. Sometimes, she’ll steal your keys. You think she just likes things that you like, but you’re not sure. Alex says you’re projecting. Alex says you make up things that aren’t there, but honestly, Alex is a little mean.

Once on a fishing trip, the crow used bread to catch a fish, laying it before you all on the thick wood pier planks.

“That bird is smart,” Eliza comments, watching her chase away a hawk that seems a little too interested in the fish.

You’re proud. She’s fearless.

“Their brains are bigger than ours proportionally,” you reply with enthusiasm. You look to Alex. “See.”

“Her brain is bigger than yours,” Alex mumbles over her empty fishing line, and the crow dives down to nip at her.

“Hey!” Alex swats without making contact. The crow flies away again. “That crow doesn’t like me, I swear. She knows me.”

“Of course she does.”

“It’s meaner to me.”

“She’s a she, not an it,” you correct her.

“It’s not normal.”

“It’s perfectly normal for a crow,” you bicker with Alex. “They don't forget a face. They hold a grudge.”

“You sound like the Discovery Channel.”

“Well, it’s true. Did you know that they also mourn the dead? That they don’t migrate, staying in one place for most of their life?”

“So, you’re saying we’ll never get rid of it? Great.”

“She,” you correct her again testily. “And they can live to be 15 years old. So, yeah, you’re stuck.”

Alex quiets, and you’re thrilled to have won the argument.

But deep down inside, you’re willing to admit it’s a little weird, she’s a little weird. Crows are supposed to be social, and you’ve never seen her with any other crow. She only talks to you. She only follows you.

It would be crazy to think she wasn’t quite a crow, but something else, something more. Wouldn’t it? But you kind of do. You don’t admit it to anyone, but you do.

---

Graduation from high school is close, only days away. You’ve arranged everything for college, although not without a hulking amount of help from Eliza. She organized all of your scholarship forms, your applications, your dozens of essays. She kept you on track with projects and midterms and extracurriculars (you’re the captain of the Geology club, who knew!) And it’s all materialized into your acceptance at National City University. It’s only a couple of hours from Midvale, and you can’t wait for August.

Sometimes it’s crazy to think you’re going to college. A blonde, blue eyed girl who washed up on the beach one day like a sand dollar? You would’ve never put your money on her.

But here you are, walking a beach not that far from the one you arrived on, a big slate blue sky in front of you, wind whipping your hair. You think about the future; the new city, the potluck roommate, eighteen hours of classes in biomedical engineering.

“You’ll come with me to college, right?” you say to the crow perched on your shoulder, bobbing with every step you take.

The crow softly caws and nuzzles its head on your shoulder. It’s a rare form of her affection. Otherwise, her eyes are focused on the little crabs skittering in and out of the waves.

“I couldn’t have done it without you, you know,” you reach to bring the crow to your hand, her pointed claws clinging gracefully to two of your fingers. She looks back at you expectant and listening, canting her head to the side every now and again.

“We’ve never really talked about it,” you say as if it’s typical to apologize for conversations you haven’t had with your crow. “But you’ve always been there. You protected me.”

The crow flaps her wings a little. Is it pride? Joy?

“Thank you.”

You’re not sure what overtakes you then, but you do something you’ve never done before. Despite the fact that you’ve seen her roll around in ant piles, you lean forward and plant a little kiss on her feathered head.

Immediately, you know something has changed, that something is different. There’s a shimmer in the air in front of you, prismatic in color, and the crow flies away from you, landing, staggering in the sand. You chase after, but a crisp gust of wind blows sand into your eyes and you wobble, falling. When you scramble to your feet again, blinking and rubbing the grit out of your eyes, you don’t see your crow, but a girl with eyes as green as spring leaves, with hair as black as crow.

“You’re her,” you say as she sits up, looking confused, one armed draped across her middle.

“Yes,” the girl answers simply, shaping the word as if unfamiliar.

“You’re naked,” you announce.

“Yes.”

You strip your light jacket off, suddenly rushing to cover her. You rub her shoulders and she looks at you in that same, too intelligent way.

It is her.

You have no idea know what to say next. You just watched a bird transform into a human. It’s not real. You made it up. Maybe you passed out. You did eat a lot of cinnamon rolls right before this. You pinch yourself, but you don’t wake up. You’re still here on the windy beach, clutching a familiar creature in your arms.

In a panic, you fall back on the very first English you learned.

“I’m Kara,” you say. She sort of smiles as if that’s obvious. “What’s your name?”

She looks away, thinks hard. She has a strong jaw. Her skin is too white, like it’s never seen sun. Maybe not under the feathers? God, you think you’re going crazy.

“Lena.”

“Do you have parents, Lena?”

It’s a ridiculous question. She’s been with you for eleven years. But it’s a ridiculous situation.

“I—don’t remember. But I guess I do,” she says thoughtfully. Her voice has a raspy quality to it, not unlike her caw. “They probably think I’m dead.”

“What happened to you?”

She shakes her head again.

“I don’t remember,” then, “a curse, maybe. On my father. A woman came to our house that night. ‘A payment taken of your most prized possession’, she said. Something about an enemy loved.”

“A curse,” you repeat back. It makes sense. Even if nothing about this makes sense.

You shake your head, focusing on what’s important.

“Don’t worry,” you take her hand. Her palm is butter smooth. “Let’s go home.”

#supercorp #fanfic #supergirl au #crow au #i don't know #i literally don't #this was in my drafts for six months and i finally was like fuck it i'm finishing #i havent written 2nd POV in like one hundred years

990 notes · View notes

aellynera · 3 years

Text

The Best Years of Your Life (Reeves x Reader)

THE BEST YEARS OF YOUR LIFE

(hey hey, this is my other submission for @wasicskosgirl and her 800 follower celebration! and yes, you read that right - it’s REEVES. i had a lot of fun writing it and i hope you enjoy reading it! CONGRATS Amanda!!)

Word Count: um like 6200ish oops it was supposed to be a blurb

Summary: They say the best years of your life happen in high school, but what do they know?

Warnings: Some language. Female reader implied but no pronouns/description. Teenage angst. Adult wistfulness. Mostly fluffy tho. No promises about proofreading. Frog murder.

with the prompt - “Like what you see?”

It all started back in high school. Sometimes you wonder how often people say that, and if it’s really true or they’re just falsely remembering how things happened because high school is supposed to be the best four years of your life.

But in this case, it’s true. Because high school is when you met Reeves.

Sophomore Year. High School. A Friday.

It was the third day of sophomore year, fourth period on a Friday morning, your last before the lunch break. Biology class was maybe the one you were least looking forward to, not exclusively because of the required frog dissection, but pretty damn close. Gross. And you never understood why the school year didn’t just start on a Monday, but you were new here in San Diego. Maybe they just did things differently.

It was bad enough being the new kid. It was worse when you walked into class halfway through the lecture, even if it wasn’t your fault. The timing of the move was weird, and you’d spent most of the first two days, and this morning, doing placement tests and talking to your counselor.

And now you were being called out in front of the entire class.

“Ah, there you are,” your teacher announced as you walked in the door. “Everyone, this is our new student, please make them feel welcome. You can sit over there.”

Your eyes followed as she motioned to the empty seat at the lab table in the back of the room. Suddenly you weren’t sure if your face felt hot because of embarrassment or because of the boy in the other chair.

Dark, curly hair cut close on the sides but longer on the top. Deep brown eyes framed by long, long lashes. Full, plush lips curling up into his cheek on one side. A nose that, okay, maybe might be a bit oversized but for some reason worked on his handsome face and--

Well, shit. Definitely not the embarrassment.

You shuffled your way to your seat and slid into it with your head down. A few students watched you curiously but soon turned their attention back to the lesson. You tried your best to focus on what was going on, to not look to your left at the distraction next to you.

You weren’t very successful.

By now you thought you’d sneaked enough covert glances to know that we was wearing a leather jacket, had a small diamond stud earring in his left ear, a bunch of silver-studded brown suede wrap bracelets around both wrists, a silver ring on his right index finger, and oddly precise handwriting as he took notes. In between relevant facts the teacher was sharing, he was doodling tiny music notes in the margins of his notebook.

And he totally caught you looking.

“Like what you see?” he leaned over and whispered.

Your mouth felt drier than the Sahara but also somehow so moist you were afraid you might have actually drooled on yourself. You should have opened your mouth to respond but your brain refused to make the connection. Probably for the best.

At least, at first. When it finally caught up to you, the only response your brain could provide was, “Maybe?”

Now would be the perfect time for the floor to swallow you whole.

He just winked at you and his attention went back to the doodles around his notes.

You shifted your gaze back to your own notebook, but you don’t know if anything else of importance was said, and don’t remember writing anything down. The bell ringing sharply pulled you back to reality and you hastily shoved your books in your backpack, ready to escape.

Just as you were about to leave, a voice called out. “Hey, sorry about earlier. If I freaked you out or anything.”

You looked up. He was smiling at you, a little shyly. You bit your lip, your brain and mouth still refusing to connect.

He stuck his hand out. “I’m Reeves. You’re new here?”

“Um…” you smacked yourself internally. This was ridiculous, you weren’t really shy, you knew how to have a conversation, he was just introducing himself. You were going to have a serious conversation with your brain later about proper communication techniques.

It felt like hours had passed, but you finally pulled yourself together enough to respond. “Yeah. My- my dad got transferred for work, we moved here like a week ago. He literally dragged the family across the country. I’m originally from New York City.”

His eyes lit up. “Oh, cool! I always wanted to go to New York City!”

You found yourself smiling back.

“Do you...wanna sit with me at lunch?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. “Maybe you could tell me a little about the city? And...about you, since we’re gonna have to commit heinous acts of violence on an amphibian together? I’d like to know who’s wielding a scalpel next to me.”

The giggle that escaped your throat could not be contained. This boy - Reeves - was adorable. “Oh. Okay, yeah. I’d really like that.”

The Present.

Poor Lenny the Frog never stood a chance. Then again, neither did you.

To be fair, Lenny was already dead when you and Reeves got your hands on him. Well, when you got your hands on him, because for the full first half of that specific class period, Reeves refused to touch him and nearly turned as green as Lenny once was. That’s when he insisted on naming your cadaver, because somehow giving it a name made it easier to deal with.

You were pretty sure Reeves was nuts.

By the middle of sophomore year, you were dead too, but not for the same reasons.

By the middle of sophomore year, you weren’t sure how you were still alive, because every time he looked over at you and gave you a sly smile during class, gave you that look, you felt your heart go taut and you forgot how to breathe and certainly, rightfully, should have been dead.

Your friend Alexis stuck her head into your bathroom. “Hey, we’re just waiting on Vanessa, and then we’re good to go. Drinks first? The show doesn’t start until 8 so we have time.”

You glanced up from your makeup and nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

Alexis grinned. “Aaaaaah I’m so glad you agreed to go out tonight! It’s gonna be so much fun!”

“Oh, it’s gonna be something,” you muttered, going back to your eyeliner.

Alexis had been the first one to see the concert announcement about a week ago. A benefit show at one of the clubs down in Greenwich Village, some punk revival thing (for charity) with a bunch of different singers and musicians. Not normally your scene, but Alexis scanned through the names and suddenly remembered you’d known Reeves in high school. You said yes, he was in your class, and you’d been lab partners once. Vanessa squealed in excitement and Alexis announced you were going to the show. There was never any actual agreement.

Because of course Reeves was going to be there. And of course, you had to be too.

Junior Year. The Parking Lot. A Tuesday.

“I’m just saying, it was a ridiculous foul, and it should never have been called,” Reeves groused as you walked out of the gym.

“We also should have made like twenty more of our own foul shots,” you pointed out.

The Lake Howell Silverhawks had fallen to their arch-rivals in a somewhat glorious fashion. You didn’t even like basketball that much. But that didn’t really matter. The games were just an excuse to go out for burgers before and hang out with your friends during.

It was definitely an excuse to hang out with Reeves.

Junior year, you were both disappointed to find you didn’t have any classes together, but you still almost always ate lunch together. He’d come over to your house to study during the week and sometimes just to chill out on the weekends. Over the past year, he’d shown you all around the city and taken you to his favorite places. You told him all about New York, how you missed it and one day you’d go back, and all the famous sites and which ones were tourist traps that he was only allowed to visit the very first time and then never again.

You spent so much time together, even your mother liked to tease you about why he wasn’t your boyfriend.

It took a while for you to find the words to tell her it was because he was someone else’s.

As much as you liked to pretend she didn’t change anything, Randie Rustenberg changed everything. It was gradual, like a creeping vine of ivy, and she slowly took him over. There was no malice; it was just one of those things that happened. Reeves spent less time with you, his best friend, and more time with Randie, his girlfriend.

The girlfriend you desperately wished was you, because ever since that first biology class you’d had the biggest, stupidest crush on him.

Eventually you had a boyfriend of your own. Theo was a nice guy, he really was. Polite, friendly, had a good sense of humor, liked your family. And your family loved him. Your mother was so happy that you had a boyfriend, she seemed to forget to ask how Reeves was and if you’d seen him lately.

Of course you saw him. You saw him every day, in the cafeteria, at his locker, passing by in the halls. Sometimes you could find him playing the grand piano on the stage in the empty auditorium. Yes, if your mother bothered to ask, you saw Reeves all the time. Now it was just always with her.

Except this week. It was a break of sorts, no classes, just some sports and other school activities. Randie was on some trip with her parents for some kind of church function, and Theo was fishing with his dad on some lake up north. He’d told you where, but you honestly couldn’t be bothered to recall. So when a bunch of your friends and a bunch of his friends all said everyone was going to the basketball game, there was no debate.

As if there was any way you’d say no.

Sometime during the game, your friends wandered off to the snack bar and never ventured back. His friends started a game of hacky-sack under the bleachers. And you found yourself pretending to understand all the finer points about hoops strategy, cheering and yelling along with Reeves and having a great time, just like you used to.

“Where’d you park?” he asked as you left the gym and headed out into the sea of cars. You vaguely pointed in the direction of yours and he grinned. “Oh, good, I’m that way too. Come on, I’ll walk you.”

The faint glow emitted by the lampposts in the parking lot bounced off his curls and his eyes, when you could catch a glimpse, were bright beneath them.

As if there was any way you’d say no.

The walk wasn’t very far, but it felt like it was over in a second. You hadn’t said anything on the way, just soaked in the comfort of walking next to him as he kept commenting on the game.

He was waving his hands everywhere, looking at them as he talked as if his hand motions would make things make any more sense to you, in the middle of saying something about your center and how they needed to get better about blocking out when you finally spoke.

“Oh, shit.”

Reeves looked up at you. “What, you don’t agree?”

You dropped your bag on the ground and rolled your eyes. “No, my car is locked and I left my keys inside.” You pointed to the passenger seat. Your keys stared back at you derisively.

You both stared back at them for a moment, then he grinned. “Hang on, I got you.” He held up one finger and trotted off to his car, coming back a minute later with something in his hand. “This should take care of it.”

You took a step back. “Reeves? Um. Okay, why do you have a coat hanger in your car.”

He rolled his eyes back at you. “For emergencies, duh.” He quickly twisted the hanger into a hook shape and went to your passenger side window.

“And why do you know how to break into a car with said coat hanger?”

“Like I told you,” his tongue poked out between his teeth as he worked, “for emergencies. You think I haven’t locked my own keys in my car once or six times?”

“Did Randie teach you how to do this?” The words were out of your mouth before you could think. She probably had. She might have been churchy when required, but she was also responsible for about half of Reeves’s stints in detention (the other half just being him making the wrong joke at the wrong time and pissing a teacher off.)

Thank god he didn’t seem to hear you as he kept working at the lock. Finally you heard a *click* and he pumped a fist into the air with a little “yessss!”

And then you’re not really sure what happened. You bent down to pick up your bag and then you were standing up and Reeves’s face was literally about three inches away from yours and for the eight thousandth time since you’d know him, you forgot how to breathe.

Neither of you said anything for what felt like days. You just stared at each other under the dim halo of the parking lot lights.

“Here you go.” He took your hand and dropped your keys into it.

“Thanks,” you whispered.

“Like what you see?” the corners of his mouth quirked up, just the slightest little bit.

“...Maybe.”

And the staring recommenced. Were you two getting closer? Physically closer, you meant, of course you were close, you’d always been close. Well, at one time you were really close but then Randie Restenberg happened and it wasn’t fair that she got to know what those lips felt like and did he always smell this good or--

“Yo, Reeves!” A pickup truck full of guys skidded to a stop behind your car and one of his friends - Jake? Jack? you barely remembered your own name right now - stuck his head out the window. “Fight to the death ping pong tourney at Matt’s house! You in?”

Reeves bit his lip and closed his eyes for a second before he pulled back with a soft “I’m sorry” before turning to his friends. “Um, yeah, sure. Sounds brutal. I’ll meet you there.”

The pickup sped off, tires screeching out of the parking lot. Reeves turned back to you, but you’d already gotten into your now unlocked car and started the engine.

You rolled down the window a fraction and gave him a weak smile. “Hey, um. Thanks for saving my butt. Now go kick theirs at ping pong, yeah?” Your face felt so hot, and for once you were grateful for the dim lights in the lot.

“You could, um, come along if- if you want.”

“Nah, I’m...I’m tired, I’m just gonna...um, head home. But I’ll see you tomorrow maybe?”

Reeves looked like he was about to say something else, but he didn’t. He just stepped onto the curb in front of your car, smiled, and raised his hand in a little wave as he watched you drive off.

The Present.

A series of shrieks and the slamming of the door told you Vanessa had finally arrived. It sounded like they were jumping up and down on the tile just inside your front door, which was ridiculous since you’d all just seen each other the day before. But typical.

You smoothed a pinkie under your eye, checked your makeup one final time, and went into the living room.

“Oh, you look hot,” Vanessa gushed. She grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and plopped down on your couch. “Who are you trying to impress tonight?”

“Reeves, of course,” Alexis laughed, leaning on the kitchen counter. She sorted anything she might need from her big purse into a little evening bag as she talked. “You know we go to all his shows. And you know they went to high school together.”

You snorted. “That was a long time ago. I’m not even sure he’d remember me.”

Vanessa waggled her eyebrows. “You’re probably right, No offense, honey, but no one was that hot back in high school.”

He was, your brain supplied. Very helpful. You smiled wanly.

Vanessa continued. “But you were friends, right? You’ve never really talked about it. God, it must be so cool now to think that you were friends with Reeves back when he was an awkward high school teenager.”

“Reeves was never awkward,” you laugh. “It was kind of unfair.”

“But you totally had a crush on him,” Alexis offered.

Had? What do you mean, had? Oh my god, shut up, brain.

A pillow flew in your direction and you ducked as Vanessa giggled and Alexis rolled her eyes. “Come on, tell us something about him,” Vanessa goaded. “Wait. Was he, like, your prom date? That’s your secret! You totally went to prom with Reeves and you never told us!”

Senior Year. Prom. A Saturday.

The night was not supposed to go this way.

It was supposed to be limousines and corsages and dinner with dates and friends. It was supposed to be endless pictures while your mother told you how gorgeous you looked and how handsome he was and your father gave a thinly-veiled shovel talk about how he knew what happens on prom night and what would really happen if that actually happened. It was supposed to be punch and cookies and balloons. It was supposed to be dancing closer than the chaperones were comfortable with and kissing with tongue when they weren’t looking.

It was supposed to be the best night of your life. It was supposed to be fun.

Nowhere in your weeks of dreaming of this night did it involve sitting on a bench in the girls’ locker room, knees pulled up to your chest, while the party carried on in the gym just beyond.

It definitely didn’t involve crying.

The bass beats of the deejay and the harmony of laughter temporarily got louder as the locker room door opened, and then faded back into a muted thumping as the door closed again a second later. You could hear footsteps headed in your direction but before you could unfold yourself and wipe your tears away, a familiar voice called out.

“Hey, there you are!”

Being able to find the words to describe how he looked in his tux, his curls slightly tamed by some gel, the blue rose (of course it would be an off color, why would he pick something standard?) pinned to his lapel, his lopsided grin… Finding the words was nearly impossible.

Of course he would show up now. Because your night wasn’t already crappy enough and half the reason you were sitting there weeping instead of out there dancing was standing right in front of you.

You realized that wasn’t fair. It was probably more like, twenty-five percent of the reason, and it wasn’t his fault. But that didn’t make it any better.

“Why are you in the girls’ locker room, Reeves?” you sniffled.

He furrowed his eyebrows and his nose scrunched up in concern as he took in your mascara-streaked cheeks and puffy red eyes. “One of your friends said you came in here like half an hour ago and nobody’s seen you since. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine.”

“Clearly not.” He sat down next to you. “Wanna talk about it?”

A deep, shaky sign left your chest. You didn’t really want to talk about how, earlier in the evening, you’d excused yourself to use the restroom and come back to the gym to find Theo dancing with...you didn’t remember her name, nor did you care. You didn’t mind that he was dancing with another girl, in theory, but it was another matter entirely when his hands were on her ass and she was sucking a deep purple mark into his neck. And he was laughing.

A short, vicious argument ensued in the coat room after you’d cut in and dragged him off by the elbow. And it turned out that he’d been seeing whats-her-name for months, somehow, behind your back while pretending that everything was perfect with you. When he was supposedly visiting his grandparents? He was with her. When he had to work an extra shift? He was with her. When he got off the phone with you, saying he needed to get to bed early? He was calling her.

Prom wasn’t supposed to involve a very public break-up.

And things didn’t get any better when, deciding you needed something to drink, you went back into the gym and immediately saw Reeves and Randie, dancing cheek to cheek, arms snugly wrapped around each other as a soft, romantic song wafted through the air. Because of course he was with her. She was his girlfriend and Reeves wasn’t a detestable cheating asshole.

There was always another her.

You couldn’t handle it.

So you took off to somewhere almost guaranteed to be empty. You figured the locker room wasn’t really the kind of place kids would want to make out, and you were right. It was blessedly empty. Until now.

But you couldn’t tell him the second part, so you just went with the first. His eyes got wide as you blubbered through the sordid details of Theo being a complete and utter twat. Another quivery sob half-burst from you and Reeves got up. He grabbed a few paper towels from the dispenser and handed them to you as he sat back down.

“Thanks,” you hiccuped.

“I never liked him,” Reeves announced.

You found yourself choking on a huff of air. “What? Yes you did! Everybody loved him. That’s what makes it extra shitty.”

“Did you?”

“What?”

Reeves cocked his head and looked at you with an expression you couldn’t quite place. “Did you love him?”

Your mouth opened and closed but nothing came out. Why did you always seem to forget how to make words when Reeves asked you questions?

“What?”

He shrugged. “Everyone else loved him. Did you?”

You used every last ounce of willpower you had to not jump up on that bench and shout that of course you didn’t love Theo, you idiot, because I love you.

That would not make this night any easier.

The next thing you knew, Reeves put an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his chest, hugging you soundly. He rested his cheek on the top of your head. “Doesn’t matter. You’re better off without him.”

You dabbed at your eyes. Nope, still couldn’t make words.

Minutes, hours, days. You had no idea how long you stayed like that, pressed to him and feeling him breathe beneath you. You no longer had any idea how long it had even been since everything crashed around you and he’d come to try and help you pick up the pieces. You just listened to his heartbeat, strong and steady, as the muffled music and joyful shouts of classmates went on past the closed door.

Finally he spoke again. “Hey, you wanna get one of those complimentary pictures?”

“What?” Oh, great. You were finally able to answer his question but you could still only come up with that one word? Stupid brain.

“Well, I…” he sat up straight and, after the briefest look into your eyes, he glanced away. Was he blushing? You weren’t sure. “I always kind of...I kind of thought we’d have a prom picture together. I mean, I just figured, y’know, we’d go with a bunch of friends, but I always hoped I’d get a picture with my best friend.”

The sniffles were back in an instant. Damn him. “Reeves, I...you really want to get a picture now? I look horrible, I can’t get a picture taken like this!”

He took the paper towel from your hand and gently dabbed at your cheeks. “You couldn’t look horrible if you tried. Come on, it’ll be fun. And just think how excited your mom will be when she gets a copy of it.”

Despite your best efforts, you had to laugh. “Okay.”

You headed to the photo area after you washed your face, Reeves helped you wipe off the stray streaks of mascara, and you reapplied just a bit of makeup to make yourself feel better. You were never sure what Reeves said to the photographer before the shots, but he seemed quite happy to take multiples. Reeves stayed pressed against your back with his arms down around your waist, hands clasped together in front of you, for each and every one.

At some point between the second and third shot, he leaned just a little closer into you and you suddenly felt his breath against your ear. “Like what you see?”

For maybe the first time that entire night, your face broke into a genuine smile. “Maybe.”

For a few minutes, your night was absolutely perfect.

The Present.

It was the greatest date that never was.

“No, Reeves was not my prom date,” you told your friends with a shake of your head.

You left out most of the other details, partly because you didn’t want to answer eight hundred questions from Vanessa and partly because, well, you just wanted those moments for yourself.

After the pictures, Reeves had asked if you would like to dance. Until then you didn’t realize it was possible for eyebrows to shoot that far up a person’s forehead, but yours were up for the challenge. You’d mumbled something about if Randie would mind, because you were sure she absolutely would, but he brushed it off. Randie had gone off with her friends when he came to find you, and he really wanted to dance with you, just one dance with his frog murder accomplice. And he said that with a straight face and a twinkle in his eye and there was no way you could refuse.

As if there was any way you’d say no.

One dance turned into two, and then several, until the girlfriend in question finally did show back up and Reeves was pulled away, leaving you with a soft smile and a mouthed “sorry”.

Definitely the greatest never-date.

After prom, life returned to what vaguely resembled normal. Your love life sucked and Reeves still had a girlfriend that wasn’t you, and you didn’t see him much. To be fair, the end of senior year and graduation did creep up pretty fast so there wasn’t a lot of time anyway. Graduation was there before you knew it; he cheered for you and you cheered for him as you each walked across the stage. You made brief appearances at each others’ graduation parties and talked a bit and then, once again before you knew what happened next, it was time to leave for college.

You went back to New York. Reeves stayed on the west coast.

And over the years, like so many other people before you and after you, you just fell out of touch.

“And anyway,” you asserted, “we were just kind of friends. Yeah, like I told Alexis before, we were lab partners sophomore year, and we hung out sometimes, but that was it. Really.”

Alexis snorted and Vanessa narrowed her eyes. “Mmmhmm.”

You threw the pillow back at her. “Mmmhmm.”

“All right, you two,” Alexis chided. “Come on, let’s get going.”

Somehow, you managed to get down to Greenwich Village without further interrogation and minimal shenanigans.

The Present. One Hour Later. Another Saturday Night.

The bar inside the club was pretty packed. Granted, it was a Saturday night down in The Village, so it wasn’t too uncommon, but you were honestly surprised that this many people showed up for a punk retrospective.

There were a few other relatively big-name acts you recognized on the bill, and a fair number of people were wearing t-shirts with Reeves’s most recent album cover on the front. There were even a few that had shirts with his face on it, which was frankly kind of weird.

“Looks like you’re not his only number one fan,” Vanessa smirked.

“I just enjoy his music,” you said off-handedly as you tried to flag down a bartender. “But anyway, tonight isn’t even about him. We’re just here to support charity, right?”

Alexis pretended to agree with you. “Right.”

You glared at both of them before turning your attention back to the bar. Yes, you came to every one of his shows in the area. When you had time. When you could take the night off. When you could rearrange your schedule and switch shifts at the last minute and promise favors to be able to attend them. When you maybe once or twice just called out sick because nothing else worked. So what.

They were really starting to get on your nerves.

The bartender finally noticed you and took your order, and you looked around the club again while you waited.

Lots of people, ranging from just-allowed-to-buy-booze to mid-sixties businessmen. A few folks that looked to currently be in their golden years but were clearly once punks in their prime. Many people in black and chains and mohawks and neon hair and piercings, to the point where you honestly couldn’t tell who was a performer and who was a patron.

The one person you were looking for was the one that you couldn’t pick out of the crowd.

“He’s gotta be here somewhere!” Vanessa’s voice shouted from somewhere behind your shoulder.

“Vanessa, you’re getting a little weird about this,” you called back as you grabbed your drink and turned around.

“Like what you see?”

Eyes wide and mouth slightly hanging open, you almost dropped your full glass.

Vaguely, nearby, you heard the sound of glass shattering and shot a glance to your left. Alexis really had dropped her drink, and Vanessa was clutching onto her arm for dear life. She was holding her glass at a slightly odd angle and the contents were dripping onto one of her shoes.

The crowd silently pulsed backwards as one, clearing out around the four of you for a respectable distance. Several people watched curiously; surprisingly, they just stood back and stared instead of trying to get involved.

Reason Number One why you really couldn’t blame them: Reeves stood there, right in front of you. Literally less than two feet away, looking right at you. His mouth pulled up into his familiar lopsided grin, his hair still dark but shot through with strands of silver, curly on the top and shorter on the sides. His nose with the little dent, perfect on his face under those dark, luminous brown eyes and...holy shit, was he wearing eyeliner? He was wearing eyeliner.

Reason Number Two why you really couldn’t blame them: Leather pants. Under his old, faded t-shirt and black leather jacket (you were used to seeing him in brown, but you had to admit the black looked good) he was wearing leather pants.

Reason Number Three why you really couldn’t blame them: Quite simply, Reeves was standing in the middle of a bar in New York City and he was talking to you.

You blinked once, then twice. You may have blinked more times but all you could think about was the fact that, after all these years, your brain still couldn’t make words when Reeves asked you a question.

That same old question.

Suddenly you were grinning back, completely ignoring your friends and their dumbfounded squawking and sputtering next to you. You were smiling because even though your brain couldn’t make full sentences of words, it could pull one particular word out of the void and let it come out past your lips.

“Maybe.”

Reeves grinned fully now, his eyes lighting up and the crinkles at the corners deepening.

Someone - maybe Vanessa, maybe a total stranger, you couldn’t be sure - might have swooned from the sidelines.

“Always told you I wanted to come to New York,” he said.

“Always told you I’d go back.”

And the next thing you knew, the next thing that made any sense anywhere in your mind, was that Reeves had stepped forward, wrapped his arms around you, and placed the softest, sweetest, most heart-achingly gentle kiss on your lips.

You pulled away in a daze, felt the heat rising in your cheeks, as you heard a muffled choking sound halfway behind you. Definitely Vanessa.

Alexis and Vanessa’s eyes, already bugging out of their faces, nearly fell out of their sockets when Reeves turned to address them.

“Hey, ladies. I’ll come talk to you after the show, but for now, I just need to borrow your friend for a few minutes, okay?”

There were somehow still more bizarre, mostly inhuman noises that came out of your friends and even later, when they’d deny ever acting like that in front of a famous rock star (and rolled their eyes at you when you corrected them that he was a musician, not a rock star), it wouldn’t matter because you weren’t paying a single bit of attention to them them anyway.

You only had eyes for one person.

He took your hand and pulled you past the bar, into a little room in the back; the office, presumably. The second you were both inside, he wrapped his arms around your waist and looked you in the eyes. He just stared for a few minutes, or maybe hours, you weren’t sure.

It really didn’t matter.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do that?” he whispered.

“Third day of school, fourth period biology class, sophomore year?”

Reeves smiled softly. “The second you walked in that door.”

“Why didn’t you?” you tilted your head to look at him. Okay, to gaze into his eyes. You tilted your head to gaze into his eyes and your subconscious hoped to any gods that would listen that you did not have actual hearts or stars in your pupils.

Not that it really mattered.

His arms never left you but he gave a little shrug. “Never seemed to be the right time. And then I had a girlfriend.”

“Yeah,” you laughed. “And I ended up with that lame excuse for a boyfriend. But do you know how long I’ve wanted you to do that?”

“When you couldn’t stop staring at me when you sat down at the lab table next to me?”

“Hmmm, maybe. But definitely when you told the teacher we had to have a funeral for Lenny.”

“Hey, Lenny was a fuckin’ hero,” Reeves batted his eyes at you innocently. “He performed a brave and great service to his country.”

“I am oddly happy you’re still an idiot,” you giggled.

“I’m ecstatic that you kept coming to all my shows in the city.”

You pulled back slightly and looked at the ceiling. “You noticed?”

Reeves gave you that look. That look he always gave you, when you were teenagers, when you said something either completely ridiculous or completely profound. That look he gave you when he thought you might not be looking, even though you were always looking. That look that said he always had your back and you were his best friend. That look that you thought you’d be lucky to see one more time but probably never would.

That look.

“Of course I noticed. I thought about having security make you stay back, but that’s just...no. You always looked happy, and I don’t know...I just didn’t want to intrude, I guess? Just always wondered why you never stuck around after the shows, never stayed to talk to me, never came knocking on the dressing room door.”

You thought about that for a minute. You really did try, but you couldn’t come up with a decent answer. You were happy. Just seeing him was enough, you told yourself. Just hearing him sing was enough, just being in the same room with him, just being near. Just like it was back in high school.

Only it wasn’t high school anymore, and now that he’d finally, finally - after years of would’ve and should’ve and maybes - kissed you, you knew enough wasn’t going to be, well, enough.

So that’s what you told him.

And Reeves pulled you close, leaned in closer, and kissed you again.

You pulled apart, breathless again, and rested your foreheads together.

After minutes, or maybe days, or maybe hours, and definitely years - it didn’t really matter - Reeves was there. You were there. And for once, you were really there together.

“Like what you see?”

“...definitely.”

The Future. Any Day. Every Day.

You always thought, and your friends always said, that the best years of your life happened in high school. And to a certain extent, that was true and you believed in that notion for a very long time.

But ever since that night, that one glorious night in a Manhattan bar, you realized you were wrong.

The best years of your life were still happening.

~end~

Taglist: @anetteaneta @autumnleaves1991-blog @be-the-spark-flyboy @deeandbobbymcgee @huxdameron @itspdameronthings @jitterbugs927 @nathan-bateman @poedjarin @rosemarysbaby13 @sergeantkane @spider-starry @woakiees @writefightandflightclub @veuliee2 @yourbucky084 @waatermelon-sugaar

>>Join my taglist here<<

#reeves #reeves x reader #reeves x you #reeves 10 years #10 years fanfiction #reeves fanfiction #Amandas800 #wasicskogirl #my writing #writing challenge #writing prompts

80 notes · View notes

vannahfanfics · 3 years

Note

Fluff alphabet event request for Kiba Inuzuka please, thanks!

Ahh, my best boy! I love Kiba, I really wish we could have seen more of him later on in the manga and show :c

Fluff Alphabet: Kiba Inuzuka

A- Activities: How do they spend their time with their s/o?

Walks! Kiba loves to go on walks with his s/o, bonus points if they bring their dog(s) along! There’s just something so refreshing about strolling down a walking trail or through the neighborhood, especially with his s/o by his side. He’ll hold their hand as they mosey along, and he’ll be unable to resist pecking their cheek or their lips every so often.

Kiba also loves to take naps with his s/o! He’s a pretty energetic guy, but he does tire out. When he does, his favorite thing to do is to snuggle up to his s/o for a quick snooze! It doesn’t matter where, either. Kiba can fall asleep anywhere, so sometimes that means just passing out right there on the kitchen floor while his s/o was trying to enjoy a quick lunch! It’ll have to wait, though, because he will drag them out of their chair to snooze on the floor with them.

B- Body: What does this character appreciate about their s/o? What part of their body are they most proud of, and in reverse, what body part are they ashamed of and how do they respond to their s/o gushing over it?

Kiba is a tummy guy, 100%. He loves just planting his face into his s/o’s stomach, littering it in kisses or holding his hands there when they’re seated on his lap. His favorite way to nap is with his head resting on his s/o’s stomach and their hands running through his hair.

Kiba isn’t really self-conscious about any part of his body in particular, but if his s/o compliments any part of him, he’ll get all blushy and shy. After the initial surprise, however, he’ll definitely turn it around on his s/o, growing smug and flirtatious!

C- Cuddles: Is this character a cuddler? What is their favorite way to cuddle?

Kiba is definitely a cuddler! As I previously mentioned, he loves to cuddle into his s/o’s tummy. However, he also does love to spoon! If anyone asks, he’s the big spoon. But honestly? He loves to be the little spoon, too. The first time his s/o is the big spoon he gets a little emotional because he just feels so adored? He swears he didn’t cry, though.

D- Dreams: How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Dogs. All the dogs. It is a must. Aside from having a whole lotta dogs, Kiba dreams of the ideal life-- getting married, sharing a home, having some kids, and growing old together. With their dogs, of course.

E- Equivalence: Is this character the dominant force in the relationship, are they passive, or is the relationship more or less even?

The relationship is more or less even. Kiba’s a little dominant, but he is also whipped for his s/o, so it really depends on the situation. In most things, he’s content to do whatever keeps his s/o happy. Of course, every so often he has to put his foot down, and he’s not afraid to. Still, it’s a blissful arrangement, all things considered!

F- Fights: How does this character respond to arguments with their s/o? What would they fight about, and who would cave and apologize first?

In the moment, things will get heated. Kiba will yell, because his voice gets louder whenever he’s excited about something-- either in a good or bad way. However, as soon as his s/o starts to cry, he deflates. He can’t believe he broke his s/o’s heart like that! He instantly switches to comforting mode, and he’ll be able to talk it over with a more level head after that. He will definitely apologize first.

As for things he would fight about with his s/o? Kiba gets a little bit irritable when he’s stressed, so most likely, he snapped at the wrong thing and made his s/o mad. He’ll own that once things have settled down, too.

G- Gratitude: How does this character show their s/o that they are grateful?

Hugs! Kiba’s love language is very much physical affection, so anytime he’s in a grateful mood, he will grab his s/o and snuggle into their neck or belly while telling them how much he loves them!

H- Honeymoon: If this character had a honeymoon with their s/o, where would they go?

Kiba loves the beach! He would definitely want a week of sand, surf, and sun. He will be in the water constantly, and will definitely drag his s/o out to play with him, but don’t worry! He’ll have plenty of romantic dinners, shows, and whatnot planned to enjoy with his s/o, too.

I- Insecurity: What is this character insecure about? How do they deal with their insecurities with their s/o?

Kiba sometimes feels like he’s inferior to the other guys he knows, believe it or not. They’re just so awesome! He feels like a background character. He won’t admit it to his s/o at first, using brash declarations to try and make himself relevant; but when his s/o picks up on it, he will break down and spill out his poor little heart. He definitely needs to be reassured that he’s number one in his s/o’s eyes! Tell him he’s a big strong man! <3

J- Jealousy: Is this character the jealous type? How do they deal with being jealous?

Kiba doesn’t get jealous as much as he does insecure. If he sees someone else flirting with his s/o, he will get really moody and really clingy. Like, he will not leave his s/o alone after that point, hugging and kissing all over them to make the point known that they are off the market. He will also need to be reassured by his s/o too that they still love him and want him. Poor baby. :(

K- Kiss: What does the character want their first kiss to be like with their s/o? How does it end up happening?

Kiba wants the first kiss to be perfect, of course! He meticulously plans everything out, but when it comes down to it... He kind of bungles it, hits their nose on the way in and accidentally kisses the corner of their mouth instead. He is dying of embarrassment, so please just laugh it off and give him another chance, he promises he’ll do it right this time!

L- Love Confession: How does this character first profess their love to their s/o?

Kiba confesses totally on accident, haha. It just slips out in the middle of a conversation one day. Everyone around will just be like, “What?!” He’ll try to play it off, but the bright big blush on his face tells everyone exactly what they just heard. Poor baby boy, he’s trying his best.

M- Marriage: How does this character view marriage? What is their ideal wedding like?

Kiba definitely wants to get married! He dreams of settling down with his s/o. However, he doesn’t want it to be a big grand affair. He’d like a simple shrine wedding with just their parents, and then after, they can meet up with all their friends and have a nice time! In the moment, though, he would really just like to focus on his s/o and his love for them.

N- Nicknames: What does this character like to call their s/o?

Kiba defaults to “babe” or “baby” most of the time. He’s not very creative when it comes to pet names, those two get the job done! But when he’s feeling extra soft, he’ll hit his s/o with a “sweetheart” or a “honey” that’ll just make them swoon!

O- On Cloud Nine: What is this character like when they’re in love? Is it obvious to others, or are they good at hiding it?

Oh, Kiba is so obvious it’s painful. He’s blushy, he’s stuttery, he’s over the moon. Everyone within a ten mile radius will know who he’s crushing on. It’s super cute, honestly, but he will 100% get ragged for it until he finally confesses because all his guy friends definitely know what’s up!

P- PDA: Does this character like PDA? If so, what kinds of things do they do in public to show off their s/o?

Kiba is so clingy! He loves PDA. He loves to hold hands with his s/o; if they are not holding hands while walking around he gets super mopey, haha. Surprise hugs and kisses are also a must! He just loves to shower his s/o in affection. He can’t help it! He has so much love to give!

Q- Quirks: What random traits or quirks does this character have that positively affect the relationship?

Kiba is a brutally honest guy, sometimes to a fault. As such, he would never dream of lying to his s/o, not ever! Even little white lies, he can’t stand the idea of lying to his s/o. Sometimes it’s not helpful, but most of the time it’s just a testament to strong communication.

R- Romance: Is this character a hopeless romantic, or a bit on the low-key side? Are they cliché when it comes to romantic gestures, or can they get a little bit creative?

Oh, Kiba is hopelessly romantic when it comes to his s/o, but he’s actually kind of clueless when it comes to romantic gestures. He gets advice from his friends with... mixed results, haha. But he tries! He really does, and he hopes his s/o at least can get a laugh when things don’t quite go as intended.

S- Secrets: Are there any secrets they hide from their s/o? If so, how do they deal with it when those secrets finally come out?

Aside from his insecurities, as I mentioned before, no secrets from his s/o! Kiba is an open book!

T- Thrill: Does this character prefer routine in their relationship, or do they like to shake things up every once in a while?

Kiba is very impulsive, so he definitely likes to shake things up! He will definitely drag his s/o off to do random things when the mood strikes him, but honestly, it just adds to the fun!

U- Understanding: Is this character level-headed and empathetic toward their partner, or do they sometimes have trouble figuring them out, which leads to some butting heads?

As I mentioned, Kiba can be a bit clueless, so bless his heart sometimes he does have trouble understanding his s/o. This can lead to frustration and he may butt heads with them, but after a bit, they’ll be able to talk it out. He tries to beas empathetic and understanding as he can most of the time, though, even if he has no idea what’s going on.

V- Value: How does this character value their relationship with their s/o? How does it hold in comparison to their goals, ambitions, etc.?

Kiba adores his s/o, and after a long relationship, they will definitely become the centerpoint in his life. He doesn’t really have any goals or ambitions aside from just living a good and solid life, and so his s/o fits right in!

W- Wild Card: Any random fluff headcanon that does not fall within the other categories!

Kiba, unfortunately, is a wiggleworm in bed. I’m talking kicking around, flopping like a fish, falling off the bed without even waking up-- it’s bad! So, his poor s/o may find the blankets stolen, or even get an accidently hand in their face in the middle of the night!

X- XOXO: How does this character show affection?

95% of Kiba’s love language is physical affection. He just loves to snuggle up to his s/o, hold their hand, give them kisses, everything! However, he isn’t willing to hold back praise either; he loves to shower his s/o in praise and talk them up to whoever’s listening!

Y- Yearning: How does this character deal with time apart with their s/o?

Oh, he gets so mopey. He just walks around all depressed because he doesn’t get his daily dose of snuggles and lovin’. He is so sad that everyone hates being around him because all he can do is whine and cry about his s/o being there. As soon as his s/o returns, he will latch onto them like a koala and won’t let go for at least several hours.

Z- Zeal: Is this character willing to great lengths for their relationship? If so, how far, and how long does it take to get to this point?

Absolutely! Kiba doesn’t take any slight to his s/o well, and he will do anything for them. It takes a while for Kiba to build up to a serious relationship, but when he’s there, he’s gonna be in his s/o’s corner no matter what.

#kiba inuzuka #inuzuka kiba #naruto #naruto shippuden #boruto #naruto next generations #fluff alphabet #naruto fluff alphabet

24 notes · View notes