#but it’s meant to be like in a suave and charming way? meanwhile in this almost all the jokes were *at his expense.*

[puella-peanut]

I like how on the outside Terry Silver seems like the perfect human being. suave. cool. collected. but to the audience we've seen how nerdy and silly he is. Evil mastermind that got stuck in a chimney never forget

Actually Daniel is kind of the same way

Oh, I agree 100% Anon!

I mean, Terry Silver, for all his put-together-model-good-looks, his charming sophistication--he still gets stuck in chimneys (Never Forget Indeed!), and he embroiders his own name in Korean on his obi. And has his name on his car's license plate (possibly on all of them--it's never been proven otherwise!). I mean, good lord, the man still gets all starry-eyed over his sword collection the way people get with their Magic-The-Gathering-Cards, or Star Trek.

If that is not Peak Nerd Anon, I don't know what is.

I guarantee that if he'd been a teenager in today's world, he would have been a total anime-nerd, Koreaboo, on Debate Team, and would probably be president of some sort of Math, Apps, Computer and Coding Club. Truth is, Terry was never the cool one--that was his buddy, hot jock Kreese!

(Shushh...don't let him know though.)

Anyhoo, that's why Daniel and Terry are meant to be. No one can convince me otherwise than Daniel does not have a collection of rare and vintage anime and manga, and that he argues with people on anime-forums about subs vs. dubs. He has definitely attended a Convention more than once, and owns anime merch (maybe even a Sailor Fuku School-girl outfit?). One can dream!

Oh, the possibilities!

Terry and Daniel going on excellent dates to nerd-hot-spots, and (affectionately) deeply discussing the latest anime or K-Pop Boy Band. Or for a more intellectual pursuit, the history and political power of Japan and Korea, martial arts in general, etc. And to remember everything, Daniel scrapbooks all their adventures and him and Terry look over their good-times together fondly.

Meanwhile Johnny, Kreese, and the rest of the gang cringe and avoid them in public.

Dorks indeed, Anon. Dorks indeed.

#terry and daniel read shoujo manga and fanfiction pass it on #terry silver #daniel larusso #cobra kai #the karate kid #in which i respond to your inquiries #sweep the leg #silverusso

[heyslutsitswinter]

Anywho epic Vox and Alastor comparison post?

So like I mentioned this with a mutual (they know who they are) but I’ve realized that normally interpretations of Vox will falter a lot depending on your interpretation of Alastor as the two are meant to be polar opposites in canon. If you interpret Alastor as a chaotic shithead then you will likely interpret Vox as calm and collective. So on and so forth, I think it’s telling how left up into interpretation Alastor’s character is that we get extremely drastic takes on him (though ofc there is always canon divergence on top of that but point is) so much is unclear lmao

Anywho I think when it comes to my interpretation of these two there is some overlap in personality

Both are overpowered assholes, both are cocky, both love attention and both are pretty chaotic but that’s where the similarities up and end

There is definitely an old vs new theme going on with the two, as Vox is definitely more akin to the internet personified and Alastor is a southern 1920s gentleman (mostly). 

My Alastor no doubt likes to cause trouble but he acts older, he’s calmer, more collected and has the type of confidence that comes with old age. I’ve talked about my Alastor coming to the hotel due to a case of major burnout and that still rings true, Alastor is a “i’ve literally seen it all” type! it’s hard to genuinely take him off guard. Closest we ever get is when Angel Dust hits on him and even then he recovers from that pretty quickly. 

Another thing is that Alastor, is very....socially stunted for lack of a better word. He was raised extremely isolated and doesn’t fully understand how to read people, like he knows some basic manners but never how to apply them. 

Like the whole “Alastor always smiles because he thinks showing emotion is weak” is interesting but I think it’s more of a case of “Alastor always smiles because HE DOESN’T KNOW HOW ELSE TO RESPOND”. Like Alastor is easily confused by expressions like yeah he gets some basic things like

Frown = Bad

Smile = Good

But a frown can mean a lot of things depending on what just happened, where they're looking, etc. It can mean angry, disgusted, fear, etc and Alastor just can’t tell the difference a lot of the time. Even a smile can seemed forced, strained, seductive, etc. And Alastor just “???” everytime.  Him smiling is just the only way he knows how to react. On top of that Alastor just doesn’t fully get social cues.

His constant invasion of privacy is him not understanding that it bothers people, doesn’t understand why people get so pissed off at his jokes, the list goes on. 

I think even the comic supports to a lesser extent this like Alastor is shown to have friends before the hotel, but it seems to at best be limited to Mimzy and Rosie. If you wanna be more generous there’s Husk and Niffty, though they seem more worked related than friends that hangout and get drinks. That’s like at best four friends which isn’t what you’d think of a social butterfly like himself, he seems more akin to me who is all but a hermit that can’t manage social situations. Alastor will let people think he’s suave and charming but in reality he DOESNT KNOW WHAT HES DOING-

Vox meanwhile, is a big social person. I said before unlike Alastor who have people running from him the moment he steps onto the streets. Vox is more akin to a celebrity so if he waltz out on the streets people are more likely to be like “oh shit it’s vox!”  than anything else. He’s a man who thrives on charming, tricking and making people enjoy his company, don’t get me wrong he can be a shit head but unlike with Alastor it’s always intentional

Outside of murder when Alastor offends someone it’s normally entirely meant as a joke with no offense, Vox will always 100% mean to be offensive and mock people intentionally. He wants to piss and hurt people, while Alastor is meant to be a goof.

Generally as a whole Vox seems a lot more modern not just in the sense that he’s a literal cyborg that goes beep boop, but he holds a lot more modern ideals and seems a lot more in your face. Like you think Alastor was a bit much, then lord you have not met VOX. He’s random, he’s quirky and what people would expect of a CEO in hell, he’s the eccentric rich man trope to a T. 

Alastor often plans things while Vox kinda does whatever the fuck he wants. He relies on his whims, acts on impulse, etc. He’s not stupid as he can quickly come up with schemes to get himself out of any situation but it is a Jack Sparrow situation

He’ll have a plan to some extent but at certain point you have to make it up as you go along. 

On top of that while Alastor has been uninspired, burnout, and bored with Hell for several years, Vox has been riding a high since he got here and it has not stop. His empire is constantly expanding, he’s getting bigger and better everyday, he’s got cash, hoes, lovers, and literally everything he could want. He’s not an extreme sadist at least not to the same extent Alastor is

When Vox gets violent it’s about business and he doesn’t often take his rage out on other people (i think the most violent he gets is throwing Echo out the window and that’s small potatoes compared to what Alastor does to ppl), as a whole Vox doesn’t get violent unprompted

Alastor would tear a part of his brain out because he was bored

#Headcanon; Alastor #Headcanons; Vox #this got long

[goblins-riddles-or-frocks]

Do you feel like the Crows were adapted well because I personally feel that while Nina and Matthias were fine, even great, the other Crows were done a disservice. Their introductions were changed to be a lot less memorable imo, Kaz was an idiot for not expecting Pekka Rollins to return the blow (I mean, come on! Book Kaz would never), their storylines in this season will take away some of the build-up and/or development of their stories from the books later on and the very fact that they got mixed up with the Alina story was not entirely smart imo. The chances that they would succeed in their mission were small, the screenwriters missed their chance to add a lot of depth to Inej's character considering her backstory and the fact that she is now tasked with kidnapping a person (and she wasn't nearly scared enough of Tante Heleen even though she is still her property while in the books she is terrified of her after years of not being in her grasp anymore) and the fact that there is another way to cross the Fold that is allegedly safer and the Darkling knows of? Wow, what a plot hole. Jesper's addiction to gambling was also treated a lot more as a plot device rather than part of his journey as a character. Personally, I don't like how they were adapted. They had a couple of good scenes but they felt pretty lackluster and not nearly complex and fleshed out enough considering how much screen time was spent on them. At one point I was almost feeling like the show runners wanted to make the show about them actually and yet... Their characterization seems subtly but profoundly misdirected.

So this is literal months after the show’s release but I wanted to rewatch to figure out my thoughts before I responded. But my boyfriend wanted to watch it with me, but he also doesn’t really binge lol so it took awhile 😂

But yeah I agree the crows were overall adapted fairly poorly. The biggest problem for me was that their plot went essentially nowhere. It was just one long easter egg for book fans as a cash grab because SoC just has the larger and more vocal audience.

I understand the choice to adapt it all in a single TV show, and to include them all in the first season from a practical stand point: negotiating screen adaptations is difficult, just because the one project happened, it’s no real guarantee that a second series would actually make it through production hell and not fizzle out like plenty of other announced TV/movie adaptations; and early cancellations are fairly frequent, so there’s also no guarantee that a linear adaptation would stick around long enough for the Crows to be introduced.

So consolidating the IP and the fan bases makes sense, but artistically it just didn’t really work. Their entire plotline was just #hijinks. They didn’t really have any character development of their own. And while the main plotline was already really poorly paced, the occasional segue into a random *completely stagnant* plot just weighed it down even more. Like I wish they actually had something to do, or that we’d simply gotten their canon backstories, or a nonlinear glimpse into the future with the Ice Court heist. Just literally anything beyond the weird improv game style plotting we got with zero real development. Or like ideally the screen time could’ve been used to…god forbid… actually flesh out the world building and to give us a better glimpse of Ravka and how things works, maybe some court intrigue or anything else. (Give us back Genya’s scenes 😭😭)

I don’t know it was just a very poor use of screen time. And I’m just personally not as invested in the Crows without the intricate plot to bolster them, so I was pretty meh about their presence.

I did like the brief moments of characterization we did get, and seeing the main trio’s dynamic before anyone else joins up. Kit Young managed to somehow carry the entire show despite the script practically giving him nothing. His performance was fantastic and just like… the sheer personal charisma it takes to be that charming with so little help from the writing. I’m generally happy with the casting choices, they were all fun. It was just the writing team that really didn’t show up for them.

And yeah the “kidnap the sun summoner” plot was just… not a great idea imo. It makes sense for how to centralize the main goal and have them be relevant (unlike Nina just off having her random separate adventures lol) but just… it obviously wasn’t going to be successful. Even for an audience that hadn’t read the books, Alina was clearly framed as the main character. And the Crows heist plotline was handled with a sort of… humor I guess? where it’s absolutely clear from the first few episodes that they are not going to actually kidnap her and get the money. So with an impossible plot, you’d think they’d focus on character work instead, right? And yet!

Like you said, that could’ve been an excellent time to get into Inej’s head and flesh her out, give her moral dilemmas, etc. And just establishing where they are as people and giving them depth and things to emotionally overcome. But I feel like they were just deliberately held in limbo, probably because the writers were trying to preserve all their arcs for the SoC era in the plotline. (FWIW the random human smuggling train didn’t bother me as much. It established the steampunky adventure vibes Nikolai brings in later, and like crossing the fold isn’t impossible in the books either. It’s just extremely dangerous, which I think the show did address at all. Having completely secure borders isn’t really realistic in any sort of setting)

I’m really curious to see what they do with season two though. A lot of people have been talking about the Ice Court heist being introduced but that’s still not exactly chronologically a thing that happens yet? I don’t really…like… this writing team’s take on completely new content. I think they spin existing stuff in cool ways, but none of the wholesale new stuff completely worked for me. So I’m not even sure what I’d prefer here lol.

#shadow and bone #grishaverse #six of crows #okay also something that bothered me A LOT was how the show handled Jesper as a total comic relief? like in the books he’s *funny* #but it’s meant to be like in a suave and charming way? meanwhile in this almost all the jokes were *at his expense.* #again Kit Young pulled through amazingly and was so good in the role but I’m side eyeing the writer’s room hard #i ramble sometimes #long post #all the bendy punctuations #*writer's cap*

[whereflowersbloom]

Morning after

The smell of freshly baked croissants and coffee woke her up. Raven hardly ever felt so rested, even after spending an hour meditating before going to sleep, opening her eyes and getting accustomed to the morning light of the sun that illuminated her room through the windows. She turned on her back and nestled in this new, previously unknown feeling. She was strangely calm as if everything was in the right place, and every possible problem remained in the past.

Maybe that’s what genuine serenity feels like, she thought to herself.

But how did she end up in this situation? They became friends. Best friends, even. They talked about everything including their most intimate thoughts. She told herself it was enough or deceived herself into believing so. There was no line for them to cross but a secret and deep part of her soul definitely understood and sought the need to feel wanted and loved and fulfilled. Not like she hadn’t thought of Damian that way before. There was such a terrible tension between them sometimes when they were both sitting on her the sofa watching old classic films or reading books they both enjoyed. She craved the heat of Damian’s embrace. She remembered how it felt to have him curled around her, how gently his thumb stroked her cheek, how his muscles flexed against her, and she wishes he would hold her again.

Damian was like a compass for Raven if she felt like she might lose her way, and that kind of thing never happened to her. Not often at least.

As usual Damian went jogging as it had become his habit thanks to Jon, who craved the sunlight as soon as he opened his eyes, persistently asking him to be his partner. A surprising string elbow in the ribs by Jon gave him the second push to voice his feelings for Raven. Later, he visited a local bakery that made exquisite chocolate croissants, as he memorized Raven’s favorites. Then he returned home with a sudden thought it was the high time to turn his quiet feelings for Raven into something serious. He wanted to fool himself at first, but as it turned out, he was too fucking smart to believe a single word of the downright falsehood he made up in his mind in order to excuse himself from the imminent truth. He was in love with her.

She was about to get out of bed to stretch her muscles when Damian walked into the room carrying a tray with breakfast: hot coffee, steaming Earl Grey, croissants and juicy autumnal fruit. She wanted to approach him, wrap her arms around him and kiss him on the neck, the sensitive spot she discovered last night, but they were not yet at that stage of the relationship. As the matter of fact, she did not know exactly who they were to each other now. Maybe nothing had changed. After all, it had been just a few kisses last night, letting go, a carpet diem kind of moment. Maybe Damian didn’t want things to change between them.

"Good morning.” Damian muttered, sending her one of his radiant, sincere smiles that made her legs weak. "Did you sleep well?"

“Yes. Better than most days. I didn’t know if you would come back...” She kept her own voice soft, matching his tone, afraid to burst the strange bubble they found themselves in. Controlling her anxiety was easier said than done.

“I simply needed time to clear my mind.” His expression was solemn. “We must discuss last night’s event.” He mumbled under his breath, voice deadly calm, a convincing facade, fighting to distract the both of them from his own wild whirlwind of emotions as he left the tray at the bedside table. No woman in his life had ever truly enchanted him in the way she did. He would not give her up.

Her lower lip trembled slightly. She repeated her mantra over ten times until she calmed her nerves. Damian was her closest friend, and she cared about not ruining the special bond between them. They said it was easier to move on as long as you were merely lovers, but what when you are so much more. She felt like a teenager who was falling in love for the first time. Not that she was that much older at the age of 19. She had experience in meaningless romances, short-lived, Wally, Garfield, but she knew nothing about true love. Their bond was beyond comprehensible lines of poetry. More than it being undefinable, it was the freeness to be defined, the way as open interpretations take you.

“We don’t have to to this now. In fact, nothing has to change.” She spoke tentatively, unsure whether she’s more concerned how this would shape their friendship or embarrassed she let herself cross a line. Slowly passing around the room folding her arms across her chest.

The distress was heavy in her chest, stirred with a fog of uncertainty.

At this, Damian’s eyes sparkled with determination and objection regarding her statement. Before she registered what he was doing, he grabbed her hand. “I do not want to leave things exactly as they used to be. Not before last night.” He held her gaze and rubbed his thumb over the backside of her hand, reveling in the softness of her skin.

There’s a fluttering in her stomach, and she’s taken aback at the intensity of it. Butterflied filled with hope and wish. There was hope of light after all darks, hope of happiness after grief, hope of a new colorful sunrise, a chapter to be rewritten.

“It was just a kiss..” In a trice, breaking off the contact. She lied and immediately regretted it. Damian stood next to her with a disbelieving expression on his face. There was a hint of indignation but it vanished quickly.

“You and I both know it meant more than a kiss. I do not need the gift of empathy to see it.” Damian stated sharply, his features hardened at his resolution. He was tired of constantly feeling this weight on his shoulders. What was the point of deceiving themselves any longer? If he didn’t know better, he would say she was avoiding him like a plague.

Letting out a breath she had been holding in since Damian entered her bedroom, Raven felt a weight being lifted off her chest. “Damian...I” She started, but never managed to finish interrupted by an unexpected question.

"Do you have any plans for today?" He left the question hanging in the air.

With brows furrowed in confusion she found herself unable to command her mouth to utter anything. Her heart thudded out of her chest. The normally unflappable last daughter of Azarath knocked for a loop by the close proximity of her stunning teammate.

Raven parted her lips and closed them again.

“It seems we are free to do as we please today. Clear schedule. No training or missions. He shrugged casually, willing his breath to remain steady, years of boiling emotions teetering over the edge of his elegant, suave composure

Raven blinked. Amethysts widening.

“I thought we could go somewhere. You and I” Damian licked his lips, swallowing the nerves in his chest as her eyes widen a fraction at his proposal. "There's a new Parisian café in the city I think you might like.”

Her lips curved up into a sweet smile, growing wider and more radiant as she thought of sitting in Parisian cafe with Damian, enjoying a minute of bliss to be in the other’s company.

“Are you asking me on a date, Damian Wayne?” She blurted with a momentary astonished look, even as she realized the implication of his words. Was this truly happening? She asked herself mentally.

“I’m courting you properly, Raven. So yes, I’m asking you out.” His shoulders ease from their tensed position, subconsciously hunched in nerves to what she’d respond.

It was surreal, talking about what a few minutes ago had been unbearable chains, restrained by her own fears and inner demons. Ethereal strands of thread that could be snapped by a mere jerk of fingers. He wanted more. He wanted her.

“I don’t know, Damian.” She bit her lip still indecisive, gaze away from his face. Once again mind invaded by intrusive negative thoughts. What if it didn’t work? What if she lost control? The numerous what if’s haunted her like never ending nightmares.

Taking a step closer, something in his emerald sparked with an idea and firmness of not quitting. “Any chance I can persuade you to change your mind then?” He crooned in her ear, nipping at it just slightly, taking her breath away. She wondered how long she could resist his gravitational pull for so long.

Raven hesitated for a good few seconds before finally resigning herself to the fact that whatever she did. She couldn’t fight this anymore. She loved him. “I can think of a few ways.” She was surprised at her own boldness, snaking slender arms around his torso. He pressed his built body against hers closer, placing tender, teasing kisses along her neck. Whilst she was glad that he was enjoying himself, she was going to completely lose it if she remained flush against him for much longer. Her entire core heated with want for him. He smirked at the effect he had on her with his natural charm. This confident, cocky air. This was so him and content and not bothering to mask it. No filters.

“Is that a yes?” He whispered and there was no missing the boyish grin spread over his tanned cheeks. Hooking a finger under her chin and brought her face level with his own.

“I suppose you earned a date, Mr. Wayne.” She laughed feverishly. Gently, stroking his palm with her thumb. Enjoying the calloused yet silky skin of an accomplished swordsman and fighter.

An audible sigh left Damian’s mouth as his muscles relaxed with her nestled in his arms. She could sense his relief. Yes, perhaps a change could be good, opening herself to feel again. A new chapter of light and joy.

Notes: I know I have disappeared and haven’t updated in forever but I’m still sick and weak. Also working on the fanzine project. I should be done in a week though. But meanwhile have this short damirae. Not my best but I hope you enjoy it 💖💖💜💜

@deepbreadlover @tweepunkgrl @alerialblu @chromium7sky @kallura-juniblade @cayeeast

I miss you all and youre all welcome to message me. I feel a bit disconnected from the world.

Also I’d like to use to wish @shewhowillnotbenamed1 a happy birthday!! Thank you for blessing us with your beautiful wiring and your friendship 😊😊🥰💜💖

#damirae #demon birds #damian wayne #raven roth #wally west #garfield logan #teen titans #dick grayson #batman universe #robrae #dc fandom #dc universe #creative writing #jon kent #super sons

[imaginingmultifandom]

Ugly Sweaters (12 Days of Christmas)

Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend Fred Weasley questions how hard it can possibly be to knit Christmas sweaters like his mother does. A playful competition between him and you ensues, and neither of you want to lose this bet. 

A/N: This is the Second Day of 12 Days of Christmas

Prompt →  Ugly sweaters

It was quite early this morning at the Burrow, and you still felt rather sleepy as you sat at the table having breakfast with your boyfriend Fred. It was the day before Christmas, and it certainly wasn't time for any gifts yet. Still, Molly came over to you with a neatly wrapped gift in her hands as soon as she spotted you.

"Oh Y/N, I'm glad you're both awake already. I thought it would be good to give this to you early so you could wear it in this cold," She handed you the package with a smile, and you opened it gratefully.

"Thank you, Molly," You grinned whole-heartedly at the woman in front of you as soon as you had opened it, holding up the knitted sweater with your initial on it that she had just gifted you, "It's so beautiful. But you really shouldn't have-"

"You're welcome, dear." Molly interrupted you gently, "You're part of the family now, of course I made you one too."

"Thanks so much," You had only been in a relationship with Fred since the beginning of the year, so the fact that she already welcomed you into the family meant a lot to you, "I'm sure it must have been a lot of effort."

"It's really not, Mum uses a charm to knit most of these sweaters-" Fred interrupted your conversation rudely, munching on his breakfast in between words.

"I'm sure it's still a lot of work," You interjected, and Molly backed you up in front of her son.

"Fred Weasley- I don't think I've taught you to be this rude to your mother," She scolded him, but Fred only grinned at her, "If you think it's that easy, why don't you try and make them next Christmas? For the whole family, of course-"

"Why wait till next year?" Fred prompted, seemingly enjoying to scolding looks you were both giving him and wanting to tease you further, "I can make one today and still have a relaxing Christmas,"

"I'd like to see you try." Molly huffed at her son, and you grinned at his cockiness.

"I'm sure Y/N could, too." He added, "We could even make it a competition."

"Don't try and pull me into this," You rebutted, even though you were quite sure that it was already too late for your refusal. Fred always managed to pull you into his pranks and ideas, which was part of why you liked him so much.

"Come on darling, are you that scared to lose?" Fred smirked at you, knowing that he could count on your competitive streak.

"What would the competition even be?" You questioned, your curiosity taking over.

"We'll both try and knit a sweater, with or without magic," Your boyfriend explained, "And whoever's sweater looks better by this evening, that person wins. The loser has to do the dishes over the Christmas days."

"That's a huge bet," You figured, knowing how many dishes would pile up just today with how many people were here, especially with the holiday feast would prepare.

"That's why it's fun," Fred shrugged his shoulders, "I already know you can't resist a competition like this, darling,"

"Fine, I'm in." You grinned at him, "Let's do this."

"You two really are quite a match," Molly said after having observed this interaction, and walked towards the kitchen with a laugh, "Knitting needles and wool are in the cupboard over there," She pointed out, before returning to the stove and continuing to cook.

Both Fred and you got up at the same time, rushing over to the cupboard to be the first to start on their sweater.

"I've got no time to lose," Fred playfully lifted you up just as you opened the cupboard, turning you away from it and letting you down on the ground again just so he could be the first to grab some utensils.

"You're an arse," You teased him, but your loving tone made it clear you didn't mean that. You grabbed some needles and wool after him and made your way over to the couch so you could figure this all out. You had heard Hermione use a charm to knit some hats for house-elves once before and you tried your best to remember it.

Meanwhile, Fred sat down at the dinner table again. He had seen his mother knit these sweaters lots of times before, surely it couldn't be that hard?

Both of you took your time to try to remember the exact charm, all while making sure the other didn't eavesdrop on you to get a clue.

You quietly muttered what you thought were the right words to your knitting needles, but they didn't move at all.

"How's it going over there?" Fred's voice called over to you.

"Perfectly," You lied, sounding as self-assured as possible, "I'll be finished in no time, I'm sure."

"Same over here," Fred returned your words, all while his needles weren't moving either.

It took both of you a bit more time until you finally remembered the charm, and even then things didn't go smoothly.

Almost an hour later, as most of the others had begun to wake up too, you had at least managed to get the knitting needles to start the sweater. You wondered how it was going for Fred, but you didn't have to question that for long.

"What are you trying to do there?" George had woken up as well and you could hear his deep morning voice coming from where Fred was, even as you sat on the couch.

"I'm competing with Y/N. We're trying to each make a sweater by tonight and have the best one win," You could hear Fred explaining, and you tell from his tone of voice that he was concentrating intently.

"That doesn't look anything like a sweater," George commented, and you couldn't contain a quiet laugh, "In fact, that doesn't look like anything at all, Fred."

"I'm working on it," You could hear Fred answer, "Watch and learn, George."

You laughed again and then decided it would be best to go back to concentrating on your own work.

By the time Molly called everyone together for lunch, you had only managed to knit one arm. Nevertheless, as you sat down next to Fred to eat, you were making sure to sound triumphant.

"You were right, this really is easier than I thought," You teased him, and Fred simply smiled at you.

"Exactly," He rebutted, "I feel the same." You didn't believe him at all, you were sure he hadn't managed to get further than you with his sweater.

After lunch, you immediately went back to your spot to knit. The others only laughed and shook their heads at both of your competitiveness, finding your contest rather amusing.

George, Ron and Harry even volunteered to be judges on your sweaters this evening, and you happily accepted them.

As the evening arrived, and you had finally finished your work. You had only been interrupted by some snack breaks, and eventually by Fred who had sneaked up to you to steal some kisses. You had hurriedly hidden your sweater then and hoped he hadn't caught a glimpse of your progress.

After dinner, it was time for the judging. The Weasley Family and Harry all gathered in the living room, which was already beautifully decorated for the upcoming holiday.

You went out of the room and quickly pulled over your self-made sweater. It was falling apart at some seams and looked way messier than any knitted fabric you had ever seen. But, it was a completed sweater. Somehow, at least.

As you stepped into the living room, and the others made a point of cheering for you loudly. Fred stepped into the room after you, and you saw what he had made for the first time.

His sweater was only holding together very loosely, and there was only a huge hole on the right side where an arm should have been. Fred had simply shoved his arm through the hole, with no fabric covering it up.

On his chest, there seemed to be some embroidered letters, but you couldn't tell what they said even as you squinted your eyes at it. It was even messier than his usual handwriting.

"What in the bloody hell have you tried to write on there?" Ron asked his brother, while Harry and George were still laughing at the missing arm.

"Isn't it obvious?" Fred grinned, and swung his uncovered arm around your shoulders to pull you close, "It says: Y/N+Fred."

"God, that's so cheesy," You teased him, trying to cover how touched you were by his sweet gesture.

"Oh, I know you like it, darling." He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before letting go of you, turning around to reveal a drawn on heart on the back of his sweater that no one had noticed yet, "Even the judges have to admit that this is true fashion,"

Everyone laughed out loudly, and you felt your heart flutter at Fred's suaveness

"You don't even have a whole sweater," Harry laughed, "The embroidery's lovely, I suppose. But Y/N has my vote,"

"Good decision," You gave him a thumbs-up, and Fred mockingly huffed.

"I have to agree," Ron said, and George nodded as well, "Nice try, mate. But Y/N at least managed to make something that's wearable. She wins,"

"Thank you, thank you," You bowed down jokingly, "I'm honoured to win this contest,"

"Oh, come on," Fred remarked sarcastically, "You guys just don't have any taste. At least I showed my love with this sweater,"

"And it was very sweet," You turned to Fred, wrapping your arms around his torso, "But still, that doesn't change the fact that you'll be on dish duty all Christmas," You stuck your tongue out at him, and he rolled his eyes. He couldn't pretend to be mad for long though, and a grin quickly appeared on his face again.

You all shared another laugh at Fred's awful sweater and he joined in with some jokes about the practicality of a sweater with an armhole.

After the others had scattered around the house again, only Fred and you were left in the living room. You sat down on the couch and your boyfriend joined you, swinging his arms around your shoulders and pulling you against his chest.

"Just so you know, your sweater would have gotten my vote," You remarked gently, "The embroidery was a nice touch, I have to admit. It was quite romantic actually,"

"Only for you, love," Fred whispered and leaned down to kiss you softly.

Just as you wanted to kiss him back, he pulled away slightly so his lips were hovering over yours.

"You'll help me with the dishes, right?" He murmured against your mouth.

"Never." You teased and quickly closed the distance between your lips again to kiss him before he could have the chance to complain.

Of course, you ended up helping him, proudly wearing the sweater he had made. Turns out, a missing armhole really comes in handy when washing up.

#fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #imagine fred weasley #12 days of christmas #harry potter imagine #imagine harry potter #fred weasley

[mimssides]

Life on Crow Avenue: Part 3

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___

“I swear to god, Patton, if you’re going to flirt with this man for the whole evening, I’m going to change tables,” Logan complained anew and shot Patton a dirty look.

Patton nudged the smaller man in the side and shook his head with a big grin.

“Come on, Lo” he said barely defending himself, “I’m not that bad.”

“You have been talking about this Remus since you saw him outside two days ago! What is it about this man that riles you up so much? The moustache? The absence of any body fat? The terribly orange beanie?”

Patton snickered and watched his friend before taking a deflective sip from his drink. He liked Remus’s moustache and thought that he was generally good looking and also could get behind the fashion statement of terribly orange beanies. But it was not what attracted him to the man. It was something else. Something sad and forgotten, something that usually attracted him in men.

And yet Remus was somehow different. He was odd and bold enough to speak freely without restriction, but then again was so patient and kind with his customers. Even when speaking with him, there was kindness in the core of his words. Something so gentle and hidden by so much loudness and a façade which Patton believed Remus did not want to hold up at all.

But probably Logan was right and Patton was all over his head again. It wouldn’t be a first and he turned to look to his friend, who was checking something on his phone. Logan was quite a bit shorter than him, had short orderly slicked back dark brown hair and wore a black turtleneck pullover and dark navy slacks. This particular outfit was meant for night outs, and Patton was very fond of it. It just was so nice seeing him not wear his tie and even put in contact lenses instead of his glasses. Not that he not liked the rectangular glasses of his friend, he just knew that it was a form for Logan to dress up, make himself feel a little special and Patton appreciated it that he did that every single Friday when they went out together.

Patton loved their Friday night outs. He loved the atmosphere of the little bar, the dark brick walls, the creaking floor, the posters of Jazz legends, he had never bothered to look up. Jazz music played pleasantly in the background through and Patton sat in their usual corner booth with Logan, where he had a general overview of the whole bar. It was always fun to do people watching here and the bartender, James, knew both him and Logan all too well. Patton always made an effort to go and talk with him, when it got late and most patrons had left for the night.

But now Patton looked over to the band at the other side of the room. Janus sat his chair, usual yellow shirt, black waistcoat and the black suit jacket hanging over the back lean of the chair. He was speaking with a few of his band colleagues and looked as suave and charming as ever. He had not been the worst man to have a fling with and Patton did not regret that one night at all.

Then Patton checked the time and glanced over to the door. It was about time for them to show up. Patton was certain they would. No doubt.

But it was almost half past seven and Patton started to feel a little nervous since-

Just then the door opened and two men entered, one with a not so orange beanie, who was clearly looking for him. Patton smiled widely and yanked his hand in the air to catch Remus’s attention. He probably had not needed to do that as Remus had started grinning before he had begun to wave and pulled his companion towards Patton and Logan’s table.

Quickly, Patton nudged Logan in the arm not looking away from the two men. He had seen them both from afar in their work attire but this hit quite differently. Remus wore make-up and a different beanie than this afternoon. And his clothes were so fun and colourful! And he wore pink shoelaces!

Meanwhile, next to him, Logan was about to ask what Patton was so excited about when he spotted the two men from the florist shop. The one in front was Remus, Logan recalled. He looked a little less pale than he remembered and seemed to have cleaned himself up quite a bit. He looked almost presentable; Logan had to admit to himself.

The man behind ought to be Roman. Remus had told Logan so at least at the opening, since the other had been occupied with some middle-aged women, who had come to inspect the new flower shop in town. Next to each other Roman and Remus looked rather similar and Logan’s suspicion that the two were related grew. Yet before he could muse longer the two had reached the table and Patton slid out of the booth to stand up and greet the pair.

“You made it!” Patton exclaimed happily and pulled Remus in a hug.

Logan rolled his eyes, as Roman’s expression changed from a surprised one into a smug one and he crossed his arms casually.

“I said we would, Poppy,” Remus said just as joyously when they parted and stepped to the side to introduce Roman. “Ro, this is Patton. Patton this is Roman, my brother. Think, I didn’t mention that before.”

“Figures that he’d forget that. Hello Patton! It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Roman greeted the tattoo artist with a wave followed by a light bow of his head.

Patton made a funny face but then grinned and said: “Pleasure is all mine, Roman! You’ve met Logan here before?”

Roman and Remus turned their attention to the small man behind the table, who simply nodded at the two. Roman smiled cordially and Remus smirked with mischief glittering in his eyes.

“That’s the guy, who’s glared this terrible woman down who was complaining about the little pride flag we have on the counter! Never saw someone turn around and walk away so ridiculously like her in my whole life!”

Remus grinned and Logan just stared at him in slight disbelief. How could this man believe that this was an acceptable way to start a conversation?

“Oh, now I get behind why you said Lo has rage in his eyes! If that was the first thing he did when you two first met, he’ll definitely made an intimidating first impression!” Patton said oddly cheerful.

And as both men in their colourful attires stared at each other, Logan exchanged a look with Roman who seemed to be just as frustrated as him. Then Roman gave him an apologizing shrug and put his hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“You know, you could just have said that he had come to the opening instead of mentioning - this woman first thing when we get to know new people. Anyway, I’m sorry for his behaviour, Logan. He has little filter in his best day and less than none at his worst,” Roman tried to smooth the tides with the bookstore owner.

Logan raised his eyebrows and looked form Roman over to Patton, who did not seem to understand what the whole fuzz was about but looked concerned ever the less. Certainly, he had sensed Logan’s unpleasantness by now which was probably the source of his concern.

But then again, Logan had been insulted far worse in his life than by this misplaced comment from a strange man in an eye staining outfit. He did not need to concern Patton just because of one jab that did not really sting and ruin their Friday jazz night with it.

“It is quite alright, Roman. I’ve been insulted worse before,” Logan said and put his glass up to his lips to take a drink.

“Lo-” Patton started but was promptly cut off as Remus took the word.

“Insulted? That wasn’t by any means an insult! That was rad! I would have loved to listen what angry words flew through that big brains of yours as you glared her down, but am kinda grateful that you held back and didn’t make a scene at our opening day. Would have been bad for business, I guess.”

Taking a sip had not been the smartest move, as the liquid now was stuck in Logan’s throat. Only with great control he managed to swallow it and then cleared his throat, immensely grateful for his darker complexion, so the strange florist could not see his flush.

“Well in that case,” Logan uttered in the hope to play his awkward pause down, “excuse the misinterpretation. Yet I do not see how my actions were in any way remarkable or “rad” as you put it.”

Remus shot him a lopsided grin and then looked over to Patton who shrugged in response. The tattoo artist then started sliding back into the booth and motioned Remus and Roman to sit with them. Remus was quick behind Patton, as Roman took the seat to the edge of the table next to Remus and gave the place a look through.

“Well, to me the whole thing was totally rad! You’re an interesting guy and the pastel cutie, here -” Remus patted Patton on the shoulder – “only kept mentioning you, so I’m even more curious!”

Logan’s demeanour shifted and with something that could have been interpreted as amusement and raised his eyebrows and looked to Patton as he rested his chin on his hand.

“Well, I can’t miss a chance to show off my best friend, can I?” Patton said a little sheepishly.

Logan rolled his eyes as Remus quirked up his eyebrow. That stoic façade of the bookshop owner broke down quickly. There must be some history in between the two of them, Remus suspected but did not get to muse longer about his whim, when Roman nudged him in the arm and let out a gasp.

Both Patton and Logan looked curiously over to Roman who now turned to Remus. Quick he pointed over to the jazz ensemble at the other end of the room and asked: “Which one of them we’re here to see?”

“Guy on the chair with the saxophone, if my eyes don’t betray me,” Remus answered and shot a quick look over his shoulder to Patton to confirm that he was indeed right.

“Yes,” Patton said and set his arms on the table, “that’s Janus right there.”

As the name fell Roman’s eyes lit up and he looked back to the man on the chair for a moment.

“Janus, you say? Funny.”

“Yeah! J-anus is a really funny name!” Remus cackled and promptly earned a heavy shove into the side by his brother.

Offended Roman glared at Remus, who rubbed his arm, blinked a few times before it dawned on him and he let out a groan.

“I did not mean that!” Roman hissed and pressed his lips together as Remus nodded with an annoyed expression.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it now. But since when are you falling for guys you’ve seen from like a 50 feet distance? You’re usually a lot pickier.”

“I’m not picky! I have taste,” Roman said smugly and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Also, I’ve already seen him today. However, I didn’t think we’d meet so soon again.”

Roman’s voice trailed off as he turned back to look at the man with the saxophone. He did not look over to their table but was intertwined in a conversation with the bassist and the banjo player, talking smoothly and readjusting the hat on his head. Patton had seen him like this many times. This was the most relaxed but also the most enthusiastic they usually got to see Janus and he could see very well, why Roman was so fascinated with the man. Patton himself had been charmed by his flair and charms as well but somehow, he doubted that Roman really understood what kind of man Janus was. What was kind of character he had beyond the persona, which he played so well.

“Oh, apparently today we’re honoured by the Virgil’s presence,” Logan ripped Patton out of his thoughts and he looked over to the bar’s entrance.

The brother’s turned to see about whom they were talking and spotted a thin, tall man entering the bar. He had an undercut and the black hair on top of his head was braided in small braids, in which some purple beads were woven in. He wore a black hoodie with purple sleeves and black leggings with a spider net pattern on it, as well as a pair of black sneakers. He seemed nervous, looked around and froze for a moment when he noticed the twins sitting next to Patton and Logan.

Patton knew instantly that he was thinking about just turning around and leaving again, but as he started waving, the tall man sighed and continued walking towards them. As he came closer Patton smiled happily and greeted him warmly: “Virgil! It’s so nice of you to join us tonight!”

Virgil rolled his eyes and only barely managed to make fleeting eye contact with the brothers, as he took the chair next to Logan and then focused back on Patton. Roman and Remus assumed that he was a bit younger than the two other men and they themselves. Probably something around twenty.

“Yeah, yeah, Pops, hello to you too. Promised uncle J to come by tonight. Thought, I could not always turn him down,” Virgil replied and fumbled on the wood at the edge of the table.

“That is very nice of you! Do you think you have two more greetings for our guests in you?”

Had anybody but Patton asked this question, they would have come off as sarcastic and belittling. But the tone the tattoo artist used made it crystal clear that he was genuinely asking for Virgil to greet Roman and Remus properly.

Virgil sat up a bit and squinted over to the brothers. He scrunched his nose a little to which Roman leaned back while demonstratively crossing his arms in front of his chest, as Remus tilted his head curiously.

“Sup’? I’m Virgil. Good to see ya and stuff,” Virgil mumbled and looked down on his fingers.

Promptly Remus started to chuckle and scratched his nose. This man was a mess. And Remus loved to mess with messes.

“Hello, beanpole! I’m Remus and this is my brother Roman and you look as excited to be here as a fish slowly drying out in the desert. So, how does it come that you got your ass out of your hole and sit here with four old geezers like us, huh?”

“We’re not old!” Roman protested offendedly as Logan supressed a snort and Patton just pressed his lips together.

“To this one? We’re probably ancient,” Remus slurred and shot a look to Virgil.

Virgil frowned and said as he shook his head: “How old do you think I am? Twelve? None of you are old, evil Luigi.”

Remus laughed at the comment and slammed his fist on the table while doing so. Virgil shot a look over to Patton and Logan who both did not know what exactly was so funny to the florist. Meanwhile Roman simply buried his head in his hands. He loved his brother but there were days when he just wanted to end him on the spot.

Yet before anyone could say or do anything else, the playlist from the loudspeakers stopped and was replaced by the jazz ensemble on the other side.

And Roman forgot to be annoyed at his brother and just glanced over to the little ensemble, which started playing. Jazz was not what he usually listened to. He was not sure what instruments belonged into a jazz ensemble and on the top of his head he couldn’t recall any jazz musician except for Louis Armstrong. But that could not bother him any less at the moment. Not when he felt himself drift away and get looped into a rhythm that felt a little otherworldly to him.

Remus noticed quickly and grew quieter. It has been a long time, since they had been at a life music event and he did not want to ruin that for his brother. Logan too seemed rather captured by the music and Remus kept his voice down as he started to converse with Patton for a bit. A few minutes in Virgil said he’d get a few drinks and asked Remus if he wanted something as well, who then asked for a beer and any sweet mocktail they served. Virgil nodded and got their drinks, as the music played and time passed.

Waiting for their drinks Virgil leaned against the bar and watched his uncle play, before he glanced over to their table. When was the last time he had someone seen stare so smitten at his uncle? And why did this particular guy have to have the weirdest man for a brother? What was it with Janus and his ability to draw chaos into their lives with his stupid flings?

Virgil’s beer came and he took a sip and sighed. Maybe he’d find out tonight, he thought, and took the two other glasses and went back to their table.

___

@aprincehasgotoslay

@varthandi

@sickeningly-deceitful

@sammy-is-obsessed / @exhaustedfander

@unoriginalgayboyalex

@alexisrealgay

@softie-sushi

@wolfs-feder

@just-a-neoclassical-painting

For this fic:

@frawkeye

@arodynamic-enby

@espepspes​

@ladysuperheros

@bullet-tothefeels

@fukindork

@shadeofadye

@magic-but-its-green

@liv-is-a-fander

@croftersjam15

#sanders sides #florist/tattoo artist au #brotherly creativitwins #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #mim writes #Life on Crow Avenue #please reblog

[topaziraphale]

the same people who hc aziraphale as being weak/not being a warrior are the same people who LOVE crowley being this super suave tempter. hello, the whole POINT of good omens is that they are neither of what they are expected to be. aziraphale rejects his role as a warrior, but that does not mean he is weak. crowley's job is to be a this suave, amazing tempter, but meanwhile he's just Anxious. aziraphale is Strong and crowley is a tempter, its just not in the way their sides want them to be.

I think a big part that plays into the charm of these two main characters is exactly that - at first, you have certain ideas for how an angel and demon character might act, especially with how they’re normally depicted in pop culture and stuff, but then you quickly learn that they’re just not quite what you’re expecting. Aziraphale and Crowley both subvert the audience’s expectations of them as well as what is expected of them by the other characters - in this case, Heaven and Hell respectively. 

This actually ended up being way longer of an answer than I thought it would, so I’m putting the rest of it under a cut. For those that don’t feel like reading it all and just want a summary:

I basically talk about how Crowley puts up an element of coolness and style in what he does as a demon except for when it comes to direct temptations, and then I offer a little mini-dive into his psyche and how there’s a lot of vulnerability underneath his Cool And Definitely Not-Nice persona. Then I talk about how Aziraphale is in fact a soldier of Heaven, one who is capable of being a warrior, and how him not wanting to fight in the war is not a display of weakness, but rather one of great strength.

Also, all of the quotes I use here are from memory, so there’s a chance some of them aren’t exact.

When Crowley does his job, he does it with elements of coolness and style to it. (Note: What he perceives as cool, because some of the stuff he finds cool is actually kinda dorky. In a lovable way, of course.) But that’s for when he has his next big idea on how to generate petty low-grade evil. It’s how we end up with him cutting off a phone network by infesting a building with rats and using the guise of a technician to waltz in there and pour coffee into a cable-box-thingy, rather than him just snapping his fingers and making the networks go down that way. The ladder method is boring and not very cool. 

But you’ll notice he doesn’t approach direct temptations the same way. I can see where one might think he puts as much effort into being cool and suave when it comes to making temptations, due to the way he presents himself, but honestly, all he really does is just make you see something in a different light. He just, talks. Talks and makes really good points. 

“What about diabolical plans? You’re supposed to thwart the wiles of the wicked one at every turn, aren’t you? You can’t be certain that thwarting me isn’t part of the Divine Plan?”

“If there was no boy, then the process would stop. There’s a boy now, but that could change. Something could happen to him. I’m saying you could kill him. One life, for everything else.”

There’s no suave element in the way he does it, not much finesse. No extra fluff. He’s just saying what needs to be said, to make sure his idea is getting across. And it’s also fun to note that these acts of temptation are for Aziraphale - in fact, I don’t think we see him tempt humans at all after Eve. He’d rather set up elaborate schemes to ruin peoples’ days over actively participate in an act that could directly damn their souls. 

Sometimes, you have to wonder why he goes through so much effort to be this way when he knows that he’ll get in trouble for not doing his job...

Crowley puts up a front that he’s confident and content with what he is and the job he has to do. He always tries to play the act of a cool, stylish, perfect demon that is mean and evil and most definitely not a nice person. But we can see that underneath it all, he never meant to fall, and he’s still upset about it. He still doesn’t understand why it happened for what he did, and he knows he never will. He doesn’t like that the answer for it all is always chalked up to: It’s part of the Great Plan. We see him project the wrath of God onto his houseplants. We see him directly call out the nature of the Plan more than once, in the show.

I’ll even argue that he’s somewhat projecting onto Adam and Eve when he talks about how God punished them in the garden, when he first speaks to Aziraphale: “Bit of an overreaction, if you ask me. First offense, and everything.”

Aziraphale, being an angel, is clearly part of the army of Heaven and is expected in battle. We even get reminded of this by the many times people ask him where the flaming sword is, and by Gabriel telling him he’s a mean, lean, fighting-machine. And once more when the Quartermaster informs him that his platoon is waiting for him - they wouldn’t be waiting for him if he wasn’t their lieutenant. The script book even implies his strength and power. To paraphrase the line: 

“He’s not threatening him (Crowley) with it (the flaming sword), just reminding him that he can do dangerous and very out-of-character things if he needs to.” 

And in the novel itself, it’s implied that after all this time, Aziraphale still has what it takes to fight if he absolutely must, when he picks up the sword in preparation to fight off Satan himself. 

“Once you’ve learned how to do it, you never forget.”

There’s no reason to think he doesn’t easily have the ability to be a warrior. And not only a warrior, but a strong one, at that.

Here’s the thing with Aziraphale: he doesn’t want to participate in this fight. He thinks it’s wrong, but he can’t admit it to himself, he can’t just outright say it. He jumps through plenty of mental hoops to try and find reason in the fact that Heaven wants Armageddon to happen.- he thinks his people might just be misguided, their intentions are good, sure, but he wants to show them that this way is better, that there doesn’t need to be another war, that they can save everyone. The beings of Heaven are always Good, right? For him to fully admit that what he thinks they’re doing is wrong is to also admit the flaws of his own angelic nature, that he’s just as capable of wrong, and that’s a terrifying thought. Look at how desperately he wants it all to work out:

But when push came to shove, and the entire world was at stake, and Heaven was all for it to happen despite Aziraphale’s efforts to show them otherwise, he had enough. He chose to not go back to Heaven to fight in the war. He chose to try and save the world, despite his actions being perceived as going directly against the Great Plan. In the series, he literally puts his foot down, looks the Quartermaster in the eye, and tells him: “I have no intention of fighting in any war. I was in the middle of something important, I demand to be returned!” And when nobody was helping him, he went and figured out how to get back himself. He finally had the strength to choose for himself what he thought was right over what was wrong.

I get confused and, even sometimes think to myself, Did we watch the same show?, when I see people interpret Aziraphale’s reluctance to fight as a sign of weakness or passiveness. That very decision he makes, after millennia of not daring to defy his superiors like that, took a lot of courage. It’s quite literally the heart of his character arc.

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #derpy answers #good omens meta #i have no idea how i ended up ranting but here we are lol #you definitely got more than you bargained for when sending this ask anon im sorry skdjfskdjghs #derpy analyses

[snacc-noir]

Writing promptsssss: #12 L, ladynoir if possible? (just a lil side note, YOURWRITINGISAMAZING~ 💜)

😭tysm💜💜

12. “Are you- are you trying to seduce me right now?”

L. Adrienette joking rivalry, mutual Ladynoir in love AU

Ladynoir

Summary: A Seducer Akuma’s beam hits the wrong hero...

-

Couples.

Golden sand.

Warming skin and runny ice creams.

And oh look, an archaic akuma called The Enchantress flying on a cloud!

People had the most botched reasons for listening to a butterfly man and yes, in Ladybug’s long-lived experience most were fair in terms of garnering extreme amounts of negative emotion - even this one! It was just—

“Your partner won’t pay you any mind, will they?! They like ignoring don’t they!? Oh you poor, sweet girls! Not anymore!”

The powers, thereof, she had to blanch.

(Even if this one sounded like an advertisement.)

“Maybe you just didn’t have the charm,” Chat volleyed in the midst of the fight, in his suave, beautifully hilarious way. “I know my lady is never able to take her eyes off me!”

His gaze flickered to hers, that grin slipping through. Did he have to flirt and mess with her head like that in the middle of battle? Leave her up all night wondering if her beloved partner could’ve meant it?

No. Of course not. They had duties.

That’s right. They were also acting.

The Enchantress had started targeting couples, specifically ones that looked exactly like her own. Wordless picnics on the beach turned into hypnotic seductions with the uncontrolled parties pinned by targeted girlfriends whispering sweet nothings in flimsy clothes while incinerating their phone and other distractions. But now it had turned to any couple in sight on the beach with a new sever flavour - people were getting hurt.

Thus, here the duo were as a couple to lure The Enchantress into coming closer for a designed attack.

But it didn’t go as planned.

It didn’t-

It didn’t go at all.

The akuma readied the lipstick pistol at a crying girl nearby in the arms of her partner, fear in her eyes a beach ball dropped from her hands. In a panic to save the next victim, Ladybug shouted to draw the attention back,

“Hey! This guy isn’t paying attention to me! Help!”

Then, she ‘planned’ to doge the hits a few times, then also ‘planned’ to kick the hypnotist in the face a few extra times, battle here and there until finally lucky-charming, winning, and bye-bye butterflying.

Sooo... that didn’t, quite, happen?

His intentions were lovely.

In attempts to help, the protective boyfriend pegged a beach ball at the swollen cloud floating under her feet. The lipstick pistol went flailing, the beam only just leaving it, and disappeared into the sand.

The beam did not.

The beam—specifically designed for a women to seduce—

missed Ladybug.

And hit-

Pffffffff and- and hit— (‘No! Quit it. It’s- it’s not funny! It’s- hnng it’s not’)

It hit Chat Noir.

The seducer beam literally hit Chat.

Now, at the time thinking about it, what could that possibly do? Given it was designed for a female, what if it simply didn’t work!? What if it turned him into a male seducer? What if—

What if—

No. Way.

“Hey darling, you look purrfect~”

--Chat Noir adorned in a black-spotted ladybug themed lingerie-style bikini set over his suit with knee-high stockings and eyeliner.

No.

No. No, she couldn’t. She wouldn’t. This wasn’t part of the job description. Nup. She was about to have a fit.

Because this was too hilarious.

“Get out.”

The way her mouth fell mirrored the faces of the ball-thrower boy and The Enchantress.

Meanwhile, Chat Allure had all paws in the sand grains (‘Oh my goodness his claws are done’), stalking closer in a skilful, predatory sense which she backed away from, hand over the collosal round opening taking up most of her face.

Then she laughed.

An ugly, broken, cackle of a choked throat and sore gut laugh that filled the entirety of that beach area - even distracting those in mid-seduction. It was loud, cracking, and air-stealing. The akuma didn’t have the power whatsoever to even dare stop the scene she was in.

She only had one conscious thought:

‘Please. Please let there be paparazzi around.’

(If Chat thought heels were bad, great skies...)

“Ladybug?”

Chat almost looked like Chat again for a second; or sounded, at least, but she glanced up from the moisture in her eyes and saw no, he did not. And she was back in her fit on the uneven ground.

“What’s amusing, beautiful?”

Dangerously, he was stalking closer. (Listen to how much stuffs she gave: Cackles echoed once more.)

But then his body felt near, and his silhouette blurred between the slits of her weeping sight as she calmed down. Managing herself to steady breathing, he found his mark directly atop her, gleaming down with a grin (pink lip gloss? He had lip gloss too??) uncomfortably familiar on a body so obviously mind-controlled.

“Are you-” she choked out (first words that weren’t strained: go her), “Are you trying to seduce me right now? Is this seducing?”

The last part was aimed at The Enchantress, who had lost her weapon in the sand (didn’t seem she was too concerned anyway) and was staring baldy like she was figuring out how much bafflement and embarassment she could fit in one expression.

Chat lifted her chin by a red-painted finger. “Look at me, bug.”

Okay. Yes, this was ridiculous,

But that tone though-

She obeyed.

“Why do you laugh and ignore me? Why don’t you like my attention?” His elbows crouched, hurting the kind distance between their faces. “Adore me. Adore what I have to give. I am yours.”

Something twinged in her chest. This was still Chat - the guy she stalked the Ladyblog for just to ogle him when the pin-ups around her room needed an update - and her partner. He was brain-washed to give himself to her. In his right mind, she didn’t even know if he liked a back even a little.

So she couldn’t enjoy any of what this was.

The glossed lips dipped to the corner of her mouth.

She stiffened.

“Let me adore you.”

Embarrassingly still under his domain, his lips drifted across her cheek, down her chin, and reached her jawbone. He feathered kisses up, nearing her ear as that scent she was beginning to notice strengthened, causing her eyelids to wilt and ministrations feel more pleasurable - a nice smell that over time—

Wait.

His mouth closed around her left earlobe; specifically, the jewellery he found there. Ladybug kicked up and sent him in all his bikini glory across the sand. She heaved in the fresh salt-touched air to clear the seductive effects and lashed her yo-yo.

The Enchantress had retrieved her weapon from the sand and made a shrill that could rival Chloé’s noticing Ladybug’s escape, the sound rippling a wave of winces.

Ladybug shook her head of the spell.

Right. Akuma. Plan thing. Lucky charm.

Undoing Chat’s fashion.

She went back on course, calling her power and utilising nearby beach toys as she dodged Chat’s chase. Ladybug continued the last of the battle in a wild set of endeavours she’d think about for the rest of her life.

Her partner returned in a “Miraculous Ladybug!” undoing, and couldn’t understand why she had trouble keeping in giggles when he asked if he made a good seducer.

It was definitely one of the more... interesting battles. But most importantly-

The utmost of significance-

The beach ball guy had gotten a photo. A multitude, in fact. And every single one would be going on the bottom of her trap door.

So in the end, he really was a hero.

#THIS TOOK FOREVER BUT I DID IT #i put a summary on this one cos it got super long #miraculous ladybug #ladynoir #ml fic #chat noir #ladybug #original content #Em writes #prompt me

[futurewriter2000]

You’re a mean one - Pt. 5

A/N: I know ou guys have been expecting part five so I am finally delivering to it. This new keyboard is a bit wack so watch out for the z’s and y’s.

XX

It’s been only a few days and already you were a completely different person. To Sirius you became- you became... you became... 

...who did you become exactly?

Here was who Sirius saw: a girl he couldn’t recognise anymore yet there was one thing that never seemed to leave your side. The light. Your light. 

You were definetly not the shy, quiet student in the house. No. You started to live up to your house traits. There was a Gryffindor in you coming out on the plain sight of each and every student’s sight. 

See your hair changed their lenght in one night and in that same night your wardrobe became suddenly consisted of nothing but sheek and class on most days but tomboy and casual on the others. Your fingers were decorated by rings, your neck with gorgeous silver necklaces, your ears were suddenly pierced and well your past appereance was in days... gone. 

Yet one change drove Sirius over the wall. Your relationship with Paris Abernathy. 

You see Abernathy was handsome- not just that but also he was charming, knew his way with words, flirtatious, slick, extremely lively, cheerful yet through all of that he could easily turn intimidating, mysterious and impassive. For every student, he was the one you could not break the ice with. Since the beggining of Sirius’ Hogwarts’ years, Abernathy was known to me secretive and barely around but his grades were better than Sirius’ and so were his smarts. Abernathy was indeed a mastermind in this complexity of sudent life. So how in Godric’s Hollow did you get through to him?

The two of you were always together. Abernathy had always bright smile on his face when he was with you, his arm always draped on your shoulder- like a magnet. Laughter, flirting, teasing was always present with the two of you however, not one kiss was shared between the two of you in public. There was not much to say about your intimacy except the arm on your shoulder or the long hugs. 

Sirius was jealous. He was and he finally admitted to himself. Abernathy’s family was never much known for their looks, much more their wits but since Abernathy’s mother was a stunning woman from affluent middle-eastern Europe  with long silky brown hair and wonderful olive green eyes, Abernathy not only inherited his father’s wits but huge amount of beauty genetics. It was as if God decided to create a boy from best of features from both parents. 

You see, Abernathy family came from all the corners of the world. His father’s mother came from Greece, so there was no wonder his father and himself inherited the beautiful dark tanned skin and long-bridged nose. Abernathy’s father’s hair was black and curly, even curlier than Sirius’ but his mother’s hair was light brown and straight. Paris Abernathy had sensational waves of dark brown hair, almost black but his eyes? His eyes he took after his mother, which was sea green. Still, his figure was more from his English side of the family. Tall, he was, and looked severely suave in his Slytherin robes. 

The two of you looked great together. Everybody kept saying that and even Sirius knew that deep inside but there was such agitation in him that burst when he saw you and Paris Abernathy together. 

“In more ways than one, (y/n)(y/l/n) managed to piss off twice as much more professors than I could. Would that be possible? Is she trying to challange me?” Sirius walked beside you with a teasing grin on his lips as you walked quickly before him. 

“I wonder how would it be like if I-” you replied but he was close next to you.

“-to piss of a student like me?” he finished your sentance, turning his heel and stopping right in front of you. His eyes were looking down on yours, his chest heaving onto yours yet his arms clutched behind his back. “Wouldn’t know. Cannot be possible except if you wrestle me.” he smiled, wiggling his eyebrows, flashing your lips a quick glance before licking his lips and keeping his eyes firmly on yours. 

“You underestimate me, Black. I believe pissing-” you tried to reply but again he over-spoke you.

“- me off would be your easiest challange yet?” he tilted his head a bit to the side meanwhile you stared up at him, intrigued. 

“Why do you keep-”

“-finishing your sentances?” the mischevious glint appeared in his pupils and you felt your stomach sink for a bit. “There was a little accident in Potions where instead of reducing stress and racing thoughts, I suddenly started to read them and you know what-” his hands touched yours as he took a step forward, inch away from you. “I know exactly what you’re thinkning right now and they are not as innocent thoughts you put out.” he smirked and you blushed terribly in your cheeks. 

But this was a complete lie Sirius made up. He bluffed but he seemed to get what he wanted; to know that you were still attracted to him as he was to you. And as he leaned in for a kiss, pleased and satisfied, you pushed him away.

“No.” you said, taking a few steps back. “I’m sorry but I’m not doing this.” you shook your head to get loose of your reddening cheeks and later walking away.

And Sirius couldn’t help himself. Agitation and jealousy were now so intense in his veins that he didn’t think. “Because you’re doing Abernathy and I was just a one night stand- that’s it?” he was glaring as you turned around. 

“What?” you dropped your bag and kept looking at him with irritation. 

But Sirius needed to know. After this, he was convinced you and Abernathy were more than you put on. “I reckon you heard me just right.”

“Looks like somebody can’t take rejection like a normal person is what I heard.” you crossed your arms in front of your chest, starting to snarl at him. “Yes, we were a one-night stand and that is exactly why my relationship with Abernathy isn’t any of your bussiness.”

“So you admit!”

“ADMIT WHAT?!” you exploded. 

“That you’re not just getting high with him but also shagging him in his snake dungeon!” he exploded as well. 

“You won’t know, Black. Whether I have sex with Abernathy or Mulciber or Remus or even Sinatra- that is none of your concern!” 

And that sentance only caused him doubts. “Just tell me! Tell me if you’re sleeping with him!”

“WHY ARE YOU SO FUCKING EAGER TO KNOW!??”

“BECAUSE-!”

“BECAUSE OF WHAT SIRIUS!!”

“BECAUSE WE HAVE SOMETHING SPECIAL AND YOU KNOW IT!!” he exploded, calming himself down and taking a deep breath in. “Because you’re special.” he said, looking up at you with eyes you saw that same night when both of you were stuck on the floor. “You push me to have these feelings I never knew I had. You push me to feel anger, jealousy and regret- feelings I always push down until I turn numb. Yet at the same time you make me so happy and smiley, turning me into this immature kid I was when I was eleven. You make me want to get rid of everybody in my life just so I can feel what I feel when I’m with you.” he kept talking meanwhile you quietly listened. “And with you it’s like a rollecoster of emotions. I’m scared but the adrenalin that pumps my heart is addicting. You make me so chaotic but...but at the same time... at the same time you make me feel calm.” he finished as you kept staring at him. 

You looked at him, scared out of your mind of what you were feeling in your bones, your organs and your veins this moment but you managed to speak. “That night we took a swing, Sirius.” you said. “And back then we didn’t know the swing could reach as high as it does now.” you continued as he stood stoic in his place. “We are just so different. We come from different backgrounds, we hang out in different circumstances, we think opposite, we always argue... we... we’re star-crossed and we’re not meant to be and this adrenalin you’re feeling, emotions, the rollecoster- what would happen when the ride is over?” you asked him as much as you asked yourself. “We’d become toxic- that’s what we are together until it would finally, through time, become lethal.”

He stood. You stood. The only thing that moved around was the silence. 

“But don’t you feel it?” he tried to be hopeful- more hopeful than you.

Yes. You did. 

“No. I don’t and neither do you.” your tone turned cold. “Move on, Sirius. There’s nothing here.”

But my oh my just how much of everything there. Everything. Every particle of universe created for you and him was there... awaiting, expecting and breaking.

#Sirius Black #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #james potter imagine #james potter x reader #james potter #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #Marauders #marauders era #marauders imagine #marauders imagines #marauders x reader #marauder x reader

[lu-undy]

Hi! 💘 Snipers hair has become pretty long, and Spy cant decide between braiding it or cutting it. -🐑💕

Well, when you give me a choice, I go for both ^^!

The summer was hot but the Australian was used to it. That Sunday, he was wearing an old tanktop and a pair of shorts. He was changing the oil on his campervan when a shadow appeared next to him. 

"Hm… What have we here? A lightly dressed man in the middle of the desert?" 

Sniper smiled as he had recognised the voice whose French accent sung beautifully in his ears. 

"It almost looks like a fantasy. A half-naked man out of petrol in the desert…"

"I'm just changin' the oil, luv'."

"So much for imagination…" 

Spy got closer to his lover and waited for him to finish. He noticed Sniper kept on pushing his hair back behind his ear. The Australian's hair had grown to his shoulder and it was flowing free. 

"What are ya…?"

"I'm braiding your hair. That way it won't fly everywhere."

"Oh…" 

Sniper stopped moving. He felt Spy's fingers through his hair and his brown locks waved. He found it relaxing and closed his eyes. 

"Hmm…" He moaned low and slow.

Spy chuckled. 

"Don't mock me… If ye had long hair and someone to take care of it like that, you'd love it too."

"So you love it?" Spy asked.

"As much as I do you." 

The Frenchman stopped braiding for a split second and bit his lip. He knew his lover to be shy and not very talkative so on the very few occasions that he would signify his love, Spy would fall in his own mind, his whole soul collapsing to shambles. Melting. He was melting. 

He smiled and continued braiding.

"Do you…" Sniper started. He frowned. "D'you like my hair being long like that?"

Spy's eyebrow twitched but he understood. Sniper had taken the opportunity of them not facing each other to ask him, so that he could ask, because otherwise the Frenchman's ice blue eyes would be too intimidating.

"I love it. You have magnificent hair. It's wavy, soft and still all brown, not a shred of grey… You are beautiful and your hair is too."

Sniper blushed and smiled.

"Voilà, this is done."

"Thanks, darl'." 

"The pleasure is mine."

"There, now we're good. Remove yer fingers, careful… There!"

With a bang, the Australian shut the bonnet and turned to the Frenchman.

"I'm all yours now, Spook."

"Only now?"

Sniper smiled. 

"Y'know what I meant… Come in…" 

They both hopped in the van. The Australian sat down and his lover took a seat on his lap. Spy wrapped his arms around his lover's neck. 

"Oh, w-what's all this about…?" 

Spy's gaze was more than clear with his half-open, shining and dilated pupils. 

"I am just under your charm." 

"W-well… I uh, alroight."

Spy tilted his head and chuckled. 

"You look adorable, even more so with your braid." 

"A-am I?" 

"Oui."

"I uh, I'm not sure about it, especially in this heat. I sometimes wish it was shorter but eh…"

"You can still have a haircut if you want. I like you hair short too."

"Yeah, well, can't really."

"Why?"

"Usually, I get my mum to do it for me." 

Sniper looked distraught for a fleeting moment. Spy saw it behind his aviator glasses, on his lagoon blue eyes. 

"If you want a haircut, I can do it for you." 

Sniper raised his eyes to his lover. 

"Y-you?"

"Oui. I have been a barber for a few years, as an undercover job. I still have a reputation in that field. But, mon amour, I won't force you. It is only if you want it." 

Sniper's eyes darted left and right. 

"Well, if you know how to do it, uh… Y-yeah, I'd like it. Long hair with this kind of summer is just tirin'." 

"Right. Let me know when you want me to do it. I will just collect a few things from my room and we can start."

"Oh, uh, alroight, whenever you want really, I don't have anything to do." 

Spy gave his lover a malicious look. 

"Let's do it tonight… I have my little idea of how to do this. Also, I want to swim in your hair one last time…"

Sniper's eyebrows moved up and he opened round eyes. The Frenchman smirked as he removed his lover's aviator glasses. And then the tall man felt it. Spy was resting his arms on the Australian's shoulders and he was undoing the braid, their faces a mere inch from each other's. The tension one could seize and the attraction, magnetic. Their eyes went down to the other's lips. Spy pressed his forehead on Sniper's. 

"Why are you undoing my hair?" The Australian whispered. 

Spy smirked and closed his eyes. 

"Shhh… Arrête de te poser tant de questions…"

[Stop asking yourself so many questions.]

Sniper was about to ask for a translation but a pair of soft lips stopped him and washed his mind blank. He felt his hair flow free and Spy slid his fingers through it, brushing through the wavy locks, going up and massaging the marksman's head slowly.

And it won him a moan from the shy man whose eyebrows sank, giving up their grip to reality. Sniper pulled the Frenchman's hips towards him as he laid back. Spy pushed him with his hands and his lips too and broke the kiss to whisper.

"I didn't know I could love a man and I didn't know I could love one with long hair, but mon Dieu, how much you make me want you…"

Sniper's cheeks turned as red as a brick. 

"Ah, I mean-hm!"

The Frenchman didn't let him have any chance to speak… 

About an hour later, Sniper was resting his head on his lover's bare chest. They were lying in bed and the Frenchman was playing with the Aussie's hair. 

"Y'like it, eh?"

"Your hair?"

"Hm."

"Oui, I do… I find it extremely sensual."

"Oh, uh, so… You don't want to cut it?" Sniper asked.

"Non, non, you misunderstood me. I love it either way. When it's long, it feels like an ocean of softness sliding between my fingers, but when you have it short… It makes you look extremely more manly and dangerously attractive…"

Sniper turned hot under the description. Spy was such an intense man, so much more so than himself. He wasn't afraid of letting his emotions show and expressing them, with Sniper only though. On the battlefield, the man would have a heart of stone and a steel mind of focus. But the Australian now knew how romantic and even passionate Spy became under the sheets… 

"It feels colder now. Let us go outside and I can cut your hair, shall we?" 

Sniper raised his eyes.

"Yeah, sure. Uh, thanks." 

"Thank me when the job is done."

They slipped on some clothes and walked out of the van. The sun was finishing to set. 

"Let me bring a few tools, I will be right back. Meanwhile, place two chairs here and wait for me." 

"Alroight." 

A few minutes later the Frenchman came back. 

"Bien. I see you have prepared everything."

"Yeah, like you did." 

Spy unrolled his tools on the second chair and pulled his lover's back slightly, his hair flowed beautifully down. He kissed his forehead and asked:

"So, what shall we do?" 

"I, uh, I don't know really. Just cut it nice I guess." 

Spy rolled his eyes with a smile.

"Fine, I will sort it out myself."

"Sorry…"

"Don't apologise. Now, are you comfortable like this, looking up slightly?" 

"Uh, y-yeah I guess."

Spy smiled. 

"Clearly you are not, let me grab a pillow from the van." 

Sniper blushed and a few seconds later the Frenchman came back and put his lover at ease. 

"Fine, now you are comfortable. Shall I proceed?" 

"Sure… Uh, luv'?"

"Oui?"

Sniper was looking up at Spy.

"C-can I uh… Can I have a kiss before you start please?"

The Frenchman gave him a sweet smile. 

"You can for sure and you may too…" 

Their lips met briefly between their grins. 

"Thanks." 

"Now look at the horizon and relax. You may close your eyes if you want." 

"Oh, alroight…" 

The Australian did as he was told and closed his eyes. He heard Spy's lighter and soon after, he could smell the smoke of the menthol cigarettes. Sniper heard the fast and precise clicks of the scissors and felt the comb tracing paths through his hair. Spy frowned to focus on the task at hand and the locks of hair fell on the orange now dark ground of the desert. 

Click, click, click…

Sometimes Spy would push Sniper's head to tilt on the left or the right. But soon, he whispered a song to himself, just to fill the silence and the click of the scissors melted away. The only thing Sniper could hear was the suave voice of the menthol smoke. 

"Quand tu me prends dans tes bras,

[When you hold me in your arms,]

Tu me parles tout bas,

[You whisper very low,]

Je vois la vie en rose…"

[I see life through rosy glasses]

It was mellow and soft, just like the Frenchman was outside of work and only for the eyes of the man with whom he allowed himself to be vulnerable. 

The clicks of the scissors continued and Sniper felt that his head was tremendously lighter now. 

"Hm… You may open your eyes, I finished." 

The Australian did as he was told and saw the halo of the moonlight illuminating the Frenchman's silhouette. 

"Look here, what do you think?"

Spy held a small mirror in front of Sniper's face.

"Woah… You got a talent for haircuts, luv'... I look good!" 

He turned his face left and right to see the sides better.

"It's even better than when my mum does it."

"Short on the sides and behind and a bit longer at the top with a little tuft at the front. I think it suits your face, your age and your personality." 

"You made me look amazing, I-I can barely recognise myself…!"

Spy dusted off his lover's hair from his shoulders and back.

"You need a good shower now, mon amour."

[my love]

"D'you… Uh… D'you think I could use your bathroom in the base rather than the common one?" 

"I would love you to." Sniper's face brightened up. "Especially if I can shower with you." 

#tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy

[mikami]

Death Note Audio Drama 07

Disc 7: Double Agents  - a summary / partial translation

Prior translations / an explanation as to what the fuck this is.

Honestly, not much new happens in this part, but there is some funny banter between Matsuda and Ivor (Aiber); and between Light and L.

_______

Ivor calls Shimura under the Coil name. Coil hints that L will soon discover Yotsuba as Kira as a ‘friendly warning’ type of thing. Shimura here is extremely generic and not anxious like normal Shimura at all.

_______

TITLE MUSIC

_______

A Yotsuba meeting. They discuss hiring Misa for image girl.They also brush over Hatori’s death by saying that they assume everyone will send ‘appropriate letters of condolence’ (Shimura asks what is ‘appropriate’ in this case, but is brushed off instantly).

Takahashi seems confused and eventually brings up that he thought at least one person would speak up against the murders. (Someone: “You want to agree with an opinion that nobody actually brought up?”) Takahashi, flustered, changes track to point out that it’s strange that nobody is really talking about Hatori’s death. (Someone: “Mr. Hatori’s death is something we are all painfully aware of. Appropriate letters of condolence, like was said.”)

They then agree that Kira is the one who killed Hatori and then wonder how Kira found out that Hatori wanted out. 

_______

Matsuda wants to arrest all Yotsubas on basis of these tapes, but L points out they don’t know who of them is Kira and Soichiro points out the video is not admissible in court.

Light and Soichiro don’t want to just let the murders happen. Light thus suggests contacting Namikawa to stop them.

______

NAMIKAWA: Knew I’d find you here, Kyousuke. 

HIGUCHI: I’m a refugee. A refugee for nicotine. 

NAMIKAWA: You got fire?

Cigarette lighting noises.

HIGUCHI: Better smoke fast, we’re almost at real estate and finances.

NAMIKAWA: Takahashi finally got his job done?

HIGUCHI: He’s apparently got a few numbers. Both of us can only guess what tethers them to reality.

Phone ringing. Namikawa picks up. It’s Light as L. The deal is pretty much the same as in the manga.

______

Takahashi and Mido supported the delay in killings, as we learn in an L and Watari conversation. L suddenly directs his suspicions to Light again, after Light was the one to find Yotsuba and take initiative here.

Watari accuses L of being envious of Light’s success, but L denies this and names Light a perfect successor candidate.

______

L comes to Misa’s room, Light is already in it with Misa. Light claims he interrupted them getting comfortable as far as possible in HQ. The rest of the conversation is just about L convincing Misa to help the investigation. Highlight is Misa calling Light her ‘cuddlebunny’. 

Though it’s funny because the way the job is described, Misa just sums it up like “So.... I need to let them give me presents. Support my career. Pay me.” :)

________

Higuchi points out that Rem has been uncharacteristically quiet last meeting. They then chat about hiring Misa to find L. Higuchi figures out that Misa was the friend Rem was talking about and that she was Kira II. He then decides to marry Misa.

________

Rehearsals for Misa’s job interview. She’s bad at acting and doesn’t actually want to be an actress, just a star. Ivor and Wendy help her rehearse, especially since Ivor (as ‘John Wallace’) is also going to be one of the interviewers. Wendy and Ivor try to explain to her that she and Ivor are double agents now, leading Misa to point out Namikawa is ALSO a double agent and present. “Will there also be people who aren’t doube agents?” she asks, and in this context, honestly it feels like a legit question.

There’s going to be Ooi, Shimura and Higuchi at the meeting as well though.

________

The actual interview. Wendy and L are listening. Wendy brings up that Misa has to adjust her female charms to the desire of all the older guys specifically, to be what they want, manipulate them. L does not believe in that stuff, Wendy basically verbally eyerolls at him for it.

The interview itself is uninteresting as far as new content is concerned.

________

Wendy is still annoyed at L not understanding women. (L: “Nobody understands women.”) She explains to Light how she taught Misa to manipulate men.

________

Misa throws up from nervousness during the interview break. As she comes back out into the main room of the bathroom, Rem is waiting for her. 

________

The Yotsuba executives like Misa as an idea for an image girl. They also like that Misa can lead them to L. Higuchi mostly wants to fuck her tho.

________

Rem explains the situation to Misa. 

________

MATSUDA: Mr. Wallace. How’s the meeting with Misa Amane going? It wouldn’t have hurt to invite me to it as well. I’m her manager after all.

IVOR (whispering): Don’t talk to me!  You’re gonna blow our cover!

MATSUDA (whispering): I am Misa’s manager and you’re the guy handing her the contract. You can be pretty darn certain I’ll talk to you. 

MATSUDA (loud): Here’s my business card.

IVOR: I don’t want your card. 

MATSUDA (quiet): Oh yes you do, Ivor.

MATSUDA (very loud): Here’s my card, Mr. Wallace. I truly hope we can cooperate towards mutual benefit.

IVOR: Right. Thank you.

MATSUDA: And, what’s the current state of affairs?

IVOR: We’re interviewing your client, Mr. Matsui, and I think her chances are very good. 

MATSUDA: I actually meant the operation.

IVOR: We’ll contact you on the details later.

MATSUDA: Huh. Well, I just asked.

IVOR: Just let me do my job, man.

MATSUDA: I’m the overbearing manager. No reason to get all shirty.

IVOR: Interesting choice of words.

MATSUDA: What’s your problem with my shirt? 

IVOR: You look ridiculous.

MATSUDA: I’m adjusting to the situation. I’m the cocky media guy.

IVOR: It attracts attention. The trick is to not do that.

MATSUDA: Is that what you tried doing when you were convicted of fraud?

IVOR (furious): Do we really need to talk about this now?!

MATSUDA: I’m just saying. Now don’t forget, you’re the cool suave guy from marketing. 

IVOR (still furious): And maybe that guy also has a black belt.

MATSUDA: Oh, piss off.

IVOR: You piss off!

______

Rem continues explaining to Misa.

______

After the interview, Misa makes Matsuda drop her off at the mall (by claiming it’s a ‘woman thing’), instead of going straight back.

______

MISA’S MAILBOX MESSAGE: Hello. This is Misa-Misa. For a fun and sexy message. Here’s the beep. See you!

Misa has 5 new messages. Wendy is leaving a message for her to call. L and Light also left messages. Higuchi messages to agree on a meeting at the mall. Matsuda then calls twice to figure where the fuck Misa went now.

_______

Misa and Higuchi meet up. Misa near-immediately reveals herself as willing to date Kira.

_______

Soichiro informs Matsuda that the specific mall does sell mostly jewelry (he knows because of Sayu), which means Misa lied by implying to shop for period products. Wohoo. L is super frustrated with Misa.

_______

Misa agrees to kill Ginzo Kaneboshi to prove she’s Kira. Higuchi first has to convince her that he’s a bad person (animal testing, illegal human testing) though. Misa doesn’t even pretend to write here, which makes Higuchi wonder if she has a different Kira ability from him. Misa also dictates that Kaneboshi texts Higuchi before dying.

_______

Kaneboshi is in the opera. Rem personally shows up there to force him to write the message?? Though she has written it into the notebook as well, so really, what’s the point??

Either way, he dies as dictated.

_______

Higuchi gets the announced text, still confused Misa hasn’t written anything.

Since he doesn’t have the notebook with him and Misa doesn’t want to come to his house out of reservations that he’s up to something sexual. Thus they settle on him not killing anyone for proof.

_______

Misa shows the task force a recording of this.

_______

Higuchi confronts Rem on how Misa might have figured out he’s Kira / how she killed Kaneboshi without writing. He wants this ability too. (”What else can it be but an ability? She just says it and a madly in love god of death does her a favor??”)

________

Matsuda triumphs that they got Kira now, L points out they only know one Kira and not how he kills.

Meanwhile Wendy has placed bugs all over the building and also into the private homes of the executives. Mido, Namikawa and Higuchi have special security, which is a hindrance in her operations.

Higuchi’s house is too complicated to bug, so instead they bug his six cars.

_________

Door opening.

LIGHT: L?

L: Question: do you remember killing all those people?

LIGHT: Oh, piss off.

Door closing.

LIGHT: Go away! I’ve had enough of your paranoia!

L (muffled through door): Let me in. I’m trying to find something out.

LIGHT: Try starting with the reason nobody likes you.

L: Let me in.

LIGHT: I’m not Kira. You need to stop accusing me every time you don’t know what to do.

L: I need your intellect. You need to answer as if you were Kira.

Light sighs. Door opening.

LIGHT: What would Kira do....

L: Exactly. What would he do?

LIGHT: Alright. Let’s go through it.

L: Can you remember killing these people?

LIGHT: No.

L: Why not?

LIGHT: Because I didn’t do it, idiot. And now get out of here!

L: But... what if it was you after all?

LIGHT: It was not. 

L: Let’s just pretend it was.

They go through the idea of Light forgetting something and why now. They come to believe that Light losing his memory would have been his own decision, in case it happened. They begin thinking of the Kira skill as something like a contract with different packages. Premium (eyes) vs basic.

________

Matsuda watching TV, as L and Light approach him. They suggest the scheme of Matsuda showing up on TV together. Matsuda is creeped out by them being in sync for once. The reason they think Higuchi will recognize Matsuda immediately despite an obscured face is his.... tacky shirt.

________

Namikawa is hosting Shimura and Mido at his home, he invited them. They have a similar meeting to the manga, except in this verse Mido approached Shimura instead of the other way around.

They also assume Higuchi is Kira. Namikawa also confesses that L has contacted him and also suspects Higuchi. They agree to wait it out until L caught Kira and their troubles simply disappear.

_______

Advertisement for the TV show on Sakura TV, highly overproduced with a lot of echo effects.

_______

The task force prepares to start the scheme. It is set up the same way as in the manga.

_______

Namikawa calls Higuchi to watch Sakura TV. Higuchi tries to kill Matsuda with the fake name, then is shocked when it doesn’t work.

_______

Higuchi leaves stressed messages on Misa’s voice mail. They start of simple and friendly and then deteriorate anger and culminate in: “Start running, whore.”

_______

L and Light are amused at Higuchi’s growing despair. Everyone from Yotsuba keeps calling Higuchi about the TV program. In these phone calls Higuchi actually talks about himself with regards to killing but that’s not really addressed, so I cannot tell if it’s a writing mistake or a sign of Higuchi becoming careless.

Higuchi finally resolves to go to the studio in person. Wendy tails him on her bike. 

________

In the car, Higuchi talks to Rem. Higuchi is hell-bent on simply killing Matsuda and everyone in the TV station.

#death note #light yagami #l lawliet #kyousuke higuchi #audio drama translations

[ughthatimagineblog]

sins of the earth

lucifer morningstar x reader | i

warnings; mentions of murder, death?, drinking, lots of drinking, weird past stuff, nothing too bad, if you’re able to watch the show without any triggers then you should be good

word count; 1735

prompt; your entire life you believed in the paranormal, you grew up christian but something pulled inside of you to believe there was more and for so long you wanted to find it. but when life hits you hard and you lose faith, you come to the conclusion that reality is as everyone said it was, boring and most things are a lie. and you believe this new ‘truth’ until a man claiming hes the devil comes into your life and threatens to make you relearn everything you thought you knew. again.

a/n; this is gonna be a series since i started watching lucifer and im not even into the second season and i already want tom ellis to impregnate me (if he happens to ever read that; i am sorry) anyways i literally shit this out on the first night of 2019. i just had a sentence in mind and then i ran with that and made a prompt out of it. that was my inspiration. a real life problem plus a sentence i thought i might say one day made this fic. anyways, i hope this is pretty good. it will get better. honestly im lowkey proud of this one tho. unedited but i think this has been some of my best writing. to those who have requested stuff i haven’t made: im sorry im depressed. 

Your fist slammed onto the bar harder than you were expecting, or wanting, it to. You mumbled your request for whatever number of drink this was for the night and immediately began to rub the soreness of your ulnar border away while the bartender went to work in making your drink.

      The club was pounding with noise and shaking with bodies and it was humorous to think it matched the pounding of your head. You knew you should stop. But it was your birthday and you were spending it alone, miles from home, and freshly heartbroken. You didn’t care you had a headache and the drinking would make it worse. In fact, you came to this nightclub in hopes that you would drink so much it would make it better.

     Drink until you couldn’t feel anything at all. You already made arrangements for a cab to pick you up at one a.m and instructed a female bartender to remind you, even tipping her generously to go as far as walk you out when it arrived.

     Her name started with an M. Or was it an N? You weren’t entirely sure and you groaned, beginning to stand up as the man behind the bar passed you your drink. In doing so, you felt the rush of your previous drinks all at once. The room was dizzy and you felt light and unstable but also very tired.

     Remembering the time when alcohol made you bubbly and carefree and happy made you horribly sad now. In actuality you were sad. Your entire life had been working towards a half assed dream you thought would make you happy. When you got the job of that half assed dream you packed your things and left everything you’d once known behind, including family. They don’t visit because they don’t have the money too. And thinking of family, you didn’t even pick a career you would have been fantastic in because you wanted a family yourself. You let children ruin your life before you even had any. Children or a life. The person you thought you’d marry turned out to be a complete asshole and you’d had enough. Dreams and spirit crushed, you, at this moment accepted your fate. Die alone. Be bitter.

     But that wasn’t it. There was a war going on inside you that told you to give up but another didn’t. A side that told you you weren’t strong enough but another that reminded you of how strong your mother was. A side that told you your past self would frown and cry at the sight of you now, but the other; that your past self would tell you it’s okay to get up and make the best of things.

     The thoughts that rushed your mind spilled onto your cheeks and you gulped down the drink you just ordered, hearing your grandmother’s voice in the back of your mind. “Remember to sip. Don’t gulp.” She would tell you when she was teaching you to ‘properly drink’. You scoffed out loud, giving the bartender enough money to last the night. He passed you the bottle. “Yeah well you’re not here, are you, grandma?” You muttered to yourself before taking a long swig.

     “I feel like if she would be, she’d have a heart attack in this bloody place.” A suave voice cut through the music and chatter. Surprised, you coughed, spilling a bit on your shirt. “Jesus Christ.” You managed to get out. “Quite the opposite actually,” You turned to find a man who embodied the phrase ‘tall, dark, and handsome’. His raven eyes raked you and your body shamelessly. “Lucifer Morningstar.”

     You openly rolled your eyes. It was a gut reaction but since you couldn’t feel your nose if you tried to itch it at this point in the night, you couldn't quite control your reactions at the moment. “You couldn’t have chosen a better name than that?” You asked, your face plastered with a look of disdain and disgust. Lucifer looked taken aback but nonetheless, didn’t drop the haughty facade.

      “I didn’t choose the name.” He stated, you laughed a little. “Oh yeah? Then who did? Nameberry dot com?” You took another swig of the bottle. “My father actually, though I would like to meet this Nameberry person.” He smiled and you peered up at him through narrowed eyes. You gave him a once over. A twice over. Then finally, “It’s a website, but no, really, who are you?” You asked. “I’m the devil. Lucifer Morningstar. If you don’t believe me I have ways of proving it.” You rolled your eyes at this.

     “Not my religion.”

“You’re not a believer?” He inquired. Understanding he meant the Christian kind, you shook your head. “Not anymore.”

     “So you don’t believe in hell?” He asked and it earned him an odd look. Such odd questions from a weirdly unique stranger.

     “If I did, that would juxtapose what I just said, wouldn’t it? I used to. Now I don’t really care where I go.” You were growing bored of this man. It was clear that he had an ego the size of Russia and based on the look of him that was because he hadn’t ever had a girl say ‘no’ to him before. This ‘Lucifer Morningstar’ was in for a rude awakening.

     Meanwhile, he was growing more and more interested in you. “Ah, no desire to end up anywhere in the afterlife? I’m sure you have some desires here, don’t you?” He asked, voice getting smoother, tone dropped just enough to ring some red alarms in your head. This time, you were able to hid the grin.

     You put on a dazed look, nonchalantly setting your bottle aside as you stepped closer to Lucifer. You ran a hand over his chest and watched as his damning smile grew in amusement. “Actually, my strongest desire. . .” You trailed off and gave him a once over once more. Lucifer could barely contain his excitement. “Is for you to stop asking me these weird fucking questions and leave me alone.” Your voice transitioned from sultry to bored so smoothly you thought your tongue was made of silk. Lucifer didn’t even realize what had happened until the fake smile dropped from your lips and you stepped away.

     “Wait, what?”

“You heard me, Lucifer Morningstar.” You mocked his name, turning from him fully and you began to walk away, grabbing your bottle on the way out. The conversation with him was both sobering and a great way to intensify your headache.

      Lucifer felt frozen where he stood as he watched you walk away. You had been playing him. His, well, charm didn’t work on you. It was all jarring and exciting and concerning and exhilarating for him. Finally, he snapped out of his daze as you mocked his name.

    “Wait!” He called after you, reaching for your arm and turning you around. You yanked free of his touch. “Don’t touch me, creep.” You spat back at him. That flicker of annoyance. If he were mortal, he realized, that would have hurt. This confused him more.

     “I’m not a creep, i’m the devil!” He exclaimed back at you. “Would you quit with that?” You nearly were yelling now. “You’re human! Just like that guy and just like me. If you’re so convinced you’re not, you need to see a shrink. There is no such thing as fairy tales.” You shoved a business card you had been digging around for into his chest.

    Lucifer scoffed as he felt the small weight of your hands against your chest again, if only for a moment. “But I’m not-“ He started but you glared at him.

     “I did not come here for this. It’s one in the morning, my taxi is here.” You noticed the girl you tipped earlier already on her way to come get you from across the room. “You wore off my drunk. I’ll be chugging this in the rest of the car, wishing I had went to a different bar for my birthday. Oh, and I won’t be coming back. Not if you’re here.” You huffed out right as the girl who’s name you forgot approached you and she began to lead you out as promised.

     You shocked yourself just then. You had promised yourself to be more honest and that was the first time you really had. You had spent most of your life, even adult life, thinking demons and fairies and ghosts and ghouls and goblins were real. But you got the help you needed and now you didn’t so when that guy began to talk about being Lucifer and Satan and the devil, it scared you. But you meant what you said. That guy was insane and if he went to that club, you weren’t coming back. You supposed some of his questions were casual, but something about him felt, off.

    Your birthday. Whoever you were. Lucifer was still clutching the business card in his hands, still hovering above where his heart would be as he watched you leave. You were different. You didn’t believe him. You didn’t care to. You thought he was clinically insane, like a murderer who thought he was God, or well, the devil. You didn’t say it but he saw it in your eyes. Not that you were afraid of him, but you knew he was different and you couldn’t tell what.

   But that’s the thing, if he thought about it, is that you knew what he was. And you weren’t afraid but instead your automatic response was to get him help. Not that you knew what he really was, but a part of you recognized it even without your conscious knowing. Your consciousness just didn’t want to know.

    It felt like hours before he pulled his hands from his chest and gazed down at the numbers on the paper. Tonight was a night, well morning, was a morning of firsts apparently, because for the first time, Lucifer called later that day and made an appointment with the shrink you recommended. You promised you wouldn’t come back to that club, but he wasn’t ready to let go of you just yet.

     He chuckled to himself at his plan. Yes, it did sound as though was was a murderer. Insane and obsessive. But he was in fact the devil, and there are no consequences for the sins of the Earth.

#lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar imagines #lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer morningstar fic #lucifer morningstar x you #lucifer x you #lucifer netflix #hes so hot fuck #tom ellis #tom ellis x reader #tom ellis x you #tom ellis imagine #tom ellis imagines #tom ellis fic #tom ellis fanfiction #lucifer morningstar fanfiction #tom ellis fanfictions #lucifer morningstar fanfictions

[starsailorstories]

Uhhhhh could I trouble you to tell me about the temperament system?

Okay so

In Basilea there are generally four visible suns--the central binary Sol Jenya and Sol Atya, and their proximal suns Sol Minerva and Sol Soraya. Depending on what planet or orbiter you live on, different suns or different configurations of them will be visible at different times of the day and year. Because of the situations of the Basillan Motherworlds and the Rings, you always have one central-binary sun and one proximal sun that are closest to the planet at any given time, with the other two suns at varying levels of visibility in the sky behind them.

Now, astraeas ALL OVER pay a ton of attention to their local heavenly bodies, for pretty obvious cultural reasons--the relevance to spacefaring; and the self-identification of starlike beings with what they’ve always seen, literally or metaphorically, as their greater and grander celestial counterparts--and it’s not that the four suns are the only things astrologers care about, BUT they’re the most visible and most clearly differentiated from one another. A vestal working in an observatory might be able to pick out the Far Suns and the Near Stars, the constellations, and the naked-eye planets against the bright background of the galaxy’s dome (which makes them tougher to see), but any rando can look at the sky and tell which suns are shining, and because of this, there’s an enormous amount of superstition attached to them. Someone “born under the light of a different sun” is thought to be different in her core nature--and so the system of thought surrounding “astrological temperament” came to be.

Sol Jenya and Sol Atya, who like many pairs of things in Cosmonist cosmology are characterized as a married couple, rule over two particular idealized family roles which are named after them, while Sol Minerva and Sol Soraya--as their names suggest--rule over the spirit and the intellect. In Basilean culture, these four axes are said to determine personality, aptitude, and other important aspects of Who Fate Intends You To Become.

It’s something that can be fun and introspective but occasionally veers into being really bullshit, especially as it can determine what kinds of skills are taught to children and, especially in the aristocracy, what kinds of career and relationship goals you’re meant to have. It’s not as rigid as, for example, western binary conceptions of gender--astraeas, maybe because of their non-gendered nature, don’t tend to see identities that are lateral within social class in those kinds of terms. But there is that thing where...these are ideal archetypes and absolutely no one really fits them all the way?

ANYWAY, the four astrological temperaments are Jenya-Soraya, Jenya-Minerva, Atya-Soraya, and Atya-Minerva.

Being born under Sol Jenya is said to create an extroverted, active, eager temperament and is associated with the initia role in courtship, with diplomacy, with charisma and skill at performing and entertaining (the “Jenya sparkle”), and with the culture of dueling and other martial arts. Jenya daughters are thought of as the “champions” of the colony name, both forming the social relationships and offering physical protection. Because of their general sense of being suited to public life over domestic, it can be tempting to make Earth-ish assumptions that they’re the more “masculine” temperament, but I really want to stress that probably the most-reinforced Jenya traits are beauty, charm, and being emotionally open and available.

Meanwhile the Atya temperament is introverted, reflective, and spiritual. It’s associated with the mutati role, with intellectual pursuits and non-performance creativity like visual art, with the hard sciences, and with crafting. In the idealized Basillan family an Atya-born spouse is the head of the household, keeping all private affairs in order while her wife maintains the public face, and Atya daughters are the inner cogs of their colony, shrewdly directing logistics and making sure everyone’s needs are met.

These two base temperaments will be influenced by the secondary suns, which take longer to move across the sky because of the viewing angle, so there are ultimately 4 combinations, each with an associated stereotype:

Jenya-Soraya - thought of as passionate warrior-bards who wear their hearts on their sleeves; singing, crying, singing while crying while swordfighting

Jenya-Minerva - associated with almost a James Bond aesthetic of suave, cerebral badassery

Atya-Soraya - delicate goth princesses who write poetry, often portrayed as intensely mysterious and desirable

Atya-Minerva - the most intellectual temperament, think Professor McGonagall vibes, very steadfast and proper

#sweet chariot #worldbuilding #defender-of-wilderness

[spaceorphan18]

Changed For the Better 4 [Klaine Advent Day 4]

Rating: S for Shenanigans Word Count: 2738 Summary: AU - Kurt’s a struggling actor living in New York, and is currently working on a Made-for-TV movie starring Cooper Anderson.

A/N: Written for Klaine Advent Day 4: Drink

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

///

Changed for the Better - Part 4/24: Get Happy

Kurt was having the best time he’d ever had on set.  Filming was almost over, and he hadn’t expected much take away from the experience.  But filming the ending, flash forward sequence was proving to have its benefits - most notably, cuddling up with Sam Evans.  Sam, Kurt was finding, was a lot of fun, a bit goofy at times, but Kurt had to put forth no effort to pretend that they were boyfriends.  And as a bonus, Sam seemed to be enjoying his company, too - at least he acknowledged Kurt as a real person, unlike other costars of his.  So - by the end of the day, Kurt mustered enough courage to ask Sam the question that had been at the back of his mind all day.  

“Hey, Sam,” Kurt said as they walked down the hallway, back towards the studio’s dressing rooms.  They had wrapped for the day, and Kurt figured he should ask now since he wouldn’t be seeing Sam again - at least not on the movie set.  “Do you happen to sing?”

Sam furrowed his brow.  “Sing? Sometimes - I’m amazing in the shower.   Oh, wait - do they want to give me lines? My manager told me this was a non-speaking part, which is really for the better, because I was getting all nervous just standing there.”

Kurt found Sam’s rambling endearing.  “Oh, no, um, I was wondering if you were interested in karaoke.  My friend plays at a really great bar, and I thought it’d be fun.”

“Is this a cast thing?” Sam asked.

“No, no, just a bunch of friends and I are going and I thought I’d extend the courtesy.”

Sam thought about it for a moment, but then nodded happily.  “Do they have a country option?  I have some great moves to Achey-Breaky-Heart.”  

Sam rolled his hips a bit seductively.  Kurt could stomach country music if it meant watching Sam do that over and over.  

“Did someone say something about music?” Brittany had bounced over, her eyes wide with delight.  

Sam spoke before Kurt could distract her.  “Yeah, Kurt’s inviting everyone to karaoke night tomorrow.”

“Well, actually…”  

“Oh, I love karaoke!” Brittany gave a swift karate chop to Kurt’s arm, which caused him to wince in pain.  “See, I’m really good at it.”

Sam looked at her confused.  “So, would you like to come sing with us.”

Brittany’s eyes lit up again.  “Of course I would! And I know who could come with us,” she nudged him and winked.  “Walter!”

“They don’t allow anyone over the age of fifty,” Kurt said quickly.  

“Uh, that seems a little ageist,” Sam said uneasily.  

Kurt shook his head at him, hoping he’d get the hint that he was making it up.  Sam looked at him confused again.  Brittany put her hands on her hips and scolded him for being ageist (though he was pretty sure she didn’t know what he meant) - but declared that she’d be coming along anyway.  

The next night, Kurt arrived at the bar with Mercedes, Rachel, and Rachel’s boyfriend Jesse in tow.  Elliott was already there, setting up his band on the stage, as well as Brittany, who stopped Elliott’s set up for a good ten minutes so she could inspect all of his tattoos.  

“I’m pretty sure if you put all of Elliott’s tattoos in a row, you’d come up with a treasure map,” Brittany said a bit later in the night, to the confusion of everyone.  

Rachel was quick on the band’s repertoire for the evening.  “There are plenty of classics here, which is fine, but not nearly enough Broadway standards.  How can I give my rousing performance of I’m The Greatest Star if I have to sing it without accompaniment?   I suppose I’ll have to make do but you guys really should expand your horizons.”  

Sam arrived not five minutes later, looking cheery.  Kurt excitedly jumped up from his chair and introduced everyone.  

“You have really hot friends,” Sam whispered to Kurt upon joining the table.  

Kurt tried to ignore the nagging doubt settling in his stomach.  He had the night planned out.  He would get Sam to sing with him, and put on his full charm, and by the end of the night, they could ditch his friends and perform their own, private duet that was a little more risque than the PG scene in the film.  It wasn’t until Sam’s arrival at the bar did he really consider that maybe Sam was straight.  

“Well, everyone,” Kurt clapped his hands together.  “I think I should kick the evening off with my perfected portrayal of the seminal Celine Dion classic - My Heart Will Go On.  And then I know Elliott wanted to sing some Great New World number, and then maybe I could get Sam up on stage with me for a little Shania Twain number.”  

Sam gave a shrug.  “Sure.”  

Rachel tilted her head, giving him an odd look.  Kurt ignored her.  

Kurt was about to head up on stage when he heard a chilling voice.  Someone had already beaten him up there.  

“Hello, hello everyone, I’m so glad you could all make it tonight for the chance to hear me, Cooper Anderson, perform for you - Cooper Anderson’s audience.”  Kurt’s jaw dropped slightly as Cooper gave his infamous toothy grin and pointed at the audience.  “I know what you’re thinking - how lucky are you to be graced with the presence of...such a superstar.  But I’m not just hear for me, no - I’m am also here for my best friend, and costar - Mr. Kurt Hummel.”  

What the hell?  

Kurt whipped his head towards Brittany.  

“Don’t be mad,” Brittany said.  “After we talked, I talked to Cooper - and he wanted to come.  Besides, since you won’t allow me to introduce you to the wonderfully charming, and probably out of your league Walter - Cooper said this might be a good time to introduce you to his brother.”  

“So - the two of you set me up on a date?”

“No, not exactly…”

“Uh, Kurt?”  Cooper tapped the microphone until it squeaked.  “My bro is running a little late - wanna do this first one with me?  I usually make him sing the girl part, but you kinda sound like a girl, so it’d work just as well.”  Cooper bent down to speak something to the band.  

Kurt mouthed a firm ‘no’ at Elliott, but Elliott only grinned in response, and began to play.  

Islands in the Stream.  Oh, my god.  

Cooper tried to get him to up there as he began to sing, but Kurt refused to budge.  

“You’re so close-minded sometimes, Kurt. Cooper’s a genius.” Brittany said.  She went on stage and joined Cooper, just as the girl's part came in.  

Meanwhile, Kurt took a reluctant seat between Sam and Mercedes.  Kurt buried his head in his rum and Diet Coke, intentionally not watching Cooper and Brittany goof around on stage, and instead tried to pay attention to the conversation Jesse and Rachel were having about revival shows going up next season.

The conversation eventually turned to Rocky Horror.  

“Kurt, Rachel tells me you’re joining us in Rocky Horror?” Jesse asked, mildly curious.

“Oh, I don’t know…” Kurt said.  

Rachel nodded firmly.  “Yes, Kurt we’ve talked about this.  You’re doing it.”

“You’re doing it!” Mercedes echoed.  

“We’d love to have you in it,” Jesse said.  “Rachel says you haven’t been on stage since you did that bomb of a gender-swapped Wicked.”  Rachel elbowed Jesse hard.  “I’ve heard your tapes, Kurt.  And despite the fact that I think your whole singing lady songs schtick is a bit underwhelming, you were definitely not what sunk that show.  No - I’d blame the blonde alcoholic who funded it for choosing such a poor choice in adapting what could have been a brilliant idea.”  

Ug, Kurt didn’t want to discuss what was still a painful memory that he had managed to mostly forget about.  

“Rocky Horror?” Sam perked up, thankfully changing the subject back. “That’s that musical about the transvestite and the aliens right?”  Mercedes snorted into her drink.  

“Why, yes it is,” Kurt said.  “And you know, if they don’t already have one, you should come play Rocky.  You’d kill it in those gold lame pants.”  

“What’s gold lame?” Sam asked.  

Rachel gave Kurt a concerned look.  He ignored her.  

Cooper and Brittany’s song ended, and they both came up to the table.  

“So, what did you think?” Cooper asked - just waiting for showering compliments.  “I want to thank Brittany, for having such a lovely duet partner.  But Kurt, really, I could have used you up there buddy.  No worries, oh wow, and who do we have here, some incredibly lovely ladies are in the audience tonight.”  He took Mercedes’s hand and kissed it suavely, then did the same with Rachel.  Jesse he sized up.  “Hello, Jesse.”

“Cooper.”  Jesse stared him down right back.  

Rachel declared that it was her and Jesse’s turn to sing, and she promptly pulled him up to the stage to sing Written in the Stars from Aida (mostly a capella - because Elliott’s band didn’t really know that one).  They were, of course, as melodramatic as Kurt expected.  Meanwhile, Cooper and Brittany were entertaining some regulars over at the bar, leaving him sitting between Sam and Mercedes.  

Throughout Jesse and Rachel’s duet, Sam kept making funny faces over at Mercedes, who kept giggling into her drink.  When Rachel and Jesse then moved on to some Disney classics, Sam put his arm behind Kurt.  It wasn’t, to Kurt’s disappointment, to be closer to Kurt, but to poke at Mercedes instead.  She swatted him playfully away, though she was clearly enjoying the attention.  

The nail in the coffin that night was hit when Rachel dragged Mercedes up to the stage so that they could sing Anything You Can Do.  Sam leaned over and ask, “Hey, is Mercedes single?  Do you think I could get her number?  Or maybe I should just get her a drink first - do you know what she likes?”

Kurt grimaced, but told him anyway.  Who was he to get in the way of someone else’s love story.  At least someone could end the night happy.  

“Hey, I bought you a drink,” Sam said, when Mercedes and Rachel ended their song.  He handed her a tall, pink and purple drink.   “Kurt said you like strawberries, and this is, well I’m not sure what fruit is in it, but it looks good.”  

“Thanks Sam,” Mercedes smiled sweetly at him, then threw Kurt a guilty look.  Kurt shook it off.  Mercedes took a sip, enjoying her drink.  

“You know, Sam, maybe you should sing with Mercedes,” Kurt said - there was a twist in his heart as he mentioned it, but he was becoming resigned to the feeling.  “She’s amazing - and you know, she’s got an album coming out.  Once she’s famous, you may lose your chance.”  

He nudged at Mercedes - letting her know it was okay to go.  

“Mercedes that’s awesome,” Sam said.  “I’ve love to sing with you. What should we do? Oh, what about that really cheesy song, um, ‘The Next Time I Fall’?”

Mercedes got out of her seat, excited about singing again.  “Yeah, that’d be perfect.”  

When they started to sing, Kurt saw it.  The sparks.  At least he could be happy for them, if not for himself.  He placed his elbow on the table, and his head on his hand, and watched Mercedes look as though she was falling in love.  Rachel, he noticed meanwhile, was watching him - a frown on her face.  Halfway through the song, Kurt got up, not really wanting to be the subject of such pity.  

Kurt headed outside to get some air and clear his head.  Tonight was ending up a fucking disaster.  He knew better.  He knew, deep down, that Sam was probably straight.  But did that stop him?  No…  Maybe he should just go home.  

As he leaned against the side of the bar, he could hear a voice around the corner in the alleyway.  It was Cooper.  

“What do you mean you’re not coming? …  Practice for what benefit concert? You didn’t tell me about this.  Blainey, c’mon.  I’m pretty sure you’d like this guy.  He’s a good one.”  

That was interesting -- Cooper Anderson was talking him up?  Kurt leaned in a little closer to listen better.  

“Well, I keep trying to set it up, but maybe I’m wrong, and it’s just not meant to be…”

There was a tap on his shoulder.  Rachel was standing there, a light grin on her face, bouncing on the balls of her feet.  

“What are you doing out here?”

Kurt shrugged.  “I guess I wanted to be alone.”  

She nodded knowingly.  “Oh, really?”  She leaned against the wall with him.  “You have a type, you know?”

“I do?”

“Yup.  Clueless, sweet, usually blond boys with a heart of gold,” she grinned.  “I mean, Sam and Adam - Adam before he became a jerk, Finn, though he wasn’t blond.  And who was that guy you dated in college?”

“Chandler?”

“Yes, Chandler...he didn’t last very long though, maybe a little too innocent for Kurt Hummel.”  

“Well, Finn did scare him a bit with his big brother talk.”  Kurt let a out laugh at the memory. “You know, Finn’s getting married. I talked to him a couple of days ago.  He sounds really happy.”  

“I heard,” Rachel said, rather calmly for her.  Kurt had expected fireworks or at least a little more dramatic.  “And you know, for a few days I’ll admit, I was upset about it.  But you know, I met her once.  Marley.  She was really sweet.  And didn’t you say she does things like write fun songs for the kids she teaches?  She seems perfect for Finn.”  She pushed herself off the wall and folder her arms across her chest, looking down at the sidewalk.  “Finn will always be my first love -- and that’s special to me.  But you know, I was thinking about it.  He never challenged me.  Not in the way it mattered anyway.  Not the way Jesse does.  I feel alive when I’m Jesse - really, I do.  He gets me.  That’s what I want for you, Kurt. To find someone who gets you.  Cute and sweet are nice, but I think you need to aim for a something...a little more different.”   

“Well, Rachel, if I was going to date my competition, we would have been married years ago,” Kurt said.  She gently punched him in the arm.  “But you’re right.  I’m not disappointed about Sam, not really.  I guess - I just want to be in love again.  I miss that feeling.  I guess I need to keep eating that gourmet grilled cheese.”  

“What?”  

Kurt shook his head, and looped his arm in Rachel’s.  “You know what we haven’t done in a long time?”

“What’s that.”

“Barbra and Judy.”

“Oohh, yes of course.”  

They headed back inside where an open mic awaited them.  Kurt always loved their rendition of the Streisand and Garland Happy Days are Here Again/Get Happy mash-up.  He and Rachel and done that duet a million times, and that night, it sparked something in him that hadn’t happened in a long time.  He was having fun, enjoying the rush of performance, the thrill of everyone watching him on stage.  He didn’t know how much he had missed it.  

Mercedes and Sam whistled for them.  Jesse looked impressed.  Brittany got up and did an interpretive dance.  Even Cooper, who had slipped back on the bar in a strangely quiet way, seemed to be enjoying himself.  They more they cheered - the more Kurt remembered why he loved singing so much.  He was going to do Rocky Horror with them.  He was ready.  

“Hey, Kurt,” Sam said after the song was over.  “Did you still want to sing a song together?”

Kurt put a finger to his lips.  “You know what?  Maybe we should do a group song.  I know just the thing.”  He whispered over a song title to Elliott -- who burst out laughing.   It was perfect.  

Wilson-Phillips.  Hold On.  

Everyone gathered on the stage as they sang the rest of the night away.  

Don't you know things can change Things'll go your way If you hold on for one more day Can you hold on for one more day Things'll go your way Hold on for one more day

#klaine advent 2017 #klaine advent: drink #s.o. writes things