#how disingenuous. please find it in your heart to feel something for once.

[illithilit]

What color is your aura?

Blurg is Chartreuse

handbooks, spring buds, bamboo, forest ponds, glass, vintage sofas, fairy circles. your essence is chartreuse: curious and thoughtful, you are a surveyor of patterns. you enjoy your introversion; you feel most in your skin when you're alone, autonomous and uncontrolled. your enthusiasm comes through when expressing your passions to your close companions. you are the analyst. you are the detailer. you find kinship in like-minded individuals of moss, honeysuckle, green, and yellow, who share your natural inquisition. you are also drawn to the intense souls jade and fire, who will help you grow and not be so dependent on your knowledge. however, you may struggle to get along with the people-pleasing personalities of pink and yellow who seem too disingenuous.

Orianna is Royal

crown jewels, portraits, satin chairs, masquerades, nebulas, betta fish, secrets. your essence is royal: you cultivate your strengths and know how to be needed. you attract others; you are flattering and bold, locking everything ugly away. you create an image of decadence and confidence, effortlessly. you are the courtier. you are the networker. you find kinship in like-minded individuals of lilac, purple, indigo, and amethyst, who share your ambition. you are also drawn to the dramatic noir and crimson, who will help you grow and speak your truth even if it isn't pleasant. however, you may struggle to get along with the aimless personalities of gold and umber who lack a strong goal in life.

Grazilaxx is Blush

lollipops, warm cheeks, lip gloss, flowers, flamingo feathers, painted nails, heart glasses. your essence is blush: you are outspoken and protect your heart by never offering an apology. you seize your desires; there is a particularity to your passions, and not many are privy to your reasonings. you are protective and extend your heart in a way you will never accept in return. you are the trend-setter. you are the defiant. you find kinship in like-minded individuals of crimson, red, tawny, and coral, who share your aspirational intensity. you are also drawn to the honest souls lilac and cream, who will help you grow and realize you are not always under critique. however, you may struggle to get along with the internal personalities of sky and beige who are too self-effacing.

Luzzireye is Marigold

roller skates, crayons, golden pheasants, sunrises, corduroy pants, sunflower fields, warm summer days. your essence is marigold: you tackle problems head-on and take no prisoners. your biggest pride is the fruits of your labor; you surround yourself with your accomplishments and the people who you can make happy. productive and willful, you cannot ignore something once you've committed yourself to it. you are the strongheart. you are the warrior. you find kinship in like-minded individuals of peach, honey, gold, and amber, who share your love for discovery and ambition. you are also drawn to the astute souls garnet and hickory, who will help you grow and learn to commit yourself to things for the longterm. however, you may struggle to get along with the heedless personalities of amethyst and moss who don't understand your need to champion.

Razzavell is Fire

sunrises, woven blankets, campfires, tigers, whiskey, monarchs, roadtrips. your essence is fire: you are the bold spirit of adventure. you seek out others who can broaden your horizons; a life best lived is one that's vivacious, but also makes a difference. you are steadfastly committed to your values and do not waver from your opinions. you are the inspirer. you are the opportunist. you find kinship in like-minded individuals of coral, bronze, red, and orange, who share your strong opinions. you are also drawn to the contemplative souls jade and chartreuse, who will help you grow and see the fullness of your vision. however, you may struggle to get along with the opinionated personalities of wine and mauve who act above reproach.

Mourndax is Sky

short poems, teacups, clear skies, diaries, dripping icicles, tears, tennis shoes. your essence is sky: you are a hard worker and do not relent on something once you have begun. you are giving to all but yourself and pour from an empty cup; you want to be simple, self-sufficient, easy. you overflow with creativity but throw away your sketches before they're even done. you are the dauntless. you are the venturer. you find kinship in like-minded individuals of blue, navy, periwinkle, and seafoam, who likewise hold themselves to high standards. you are also drawn to the self-actualizing sage and apricot, who will help you grow and relax into your feelings. however, you may struggle to get along with the strict personalities of ivory and blush who seem overly critical.

Amis is Tawny

fall leaves, candles, blood oranges, hawk feathers, ladybugs, clay dust, toadstools. your essence is tawny: you are an energetic force with purpose. there is a genuine care for others that dictates your actions; still, you do not doubt you know best. effortlessly a leader, you extend your wings to watch over the ones you love. you are the protector. you are the consul. you find kinship in like-minded individuals of terracotta, garnet, blush, and beige, who share your strong core. you are also drawn to the open-minded souls periwinkle and peach, who will help you grow and show you how to open your boundaries. however, you may struggle to get along with the internal personalities of seafoam and ashen who are thought-heavy.

Yzare is Crimson

rose vines, blood, apples, velvet, sharp nails, galaxies, dripping jewelry. your essence is crimson: you are the strong, defiant and avoidant. you crave some sort of deviation; to walk in another's footsteps feels mundane, a waste of your time. you are possessive and never look back at the things you've lost or forgotten. you are the rebel. you are the one who will change the world. you find kinship in like-minded individuals of red, blush, garnet, and bronze, who share your impassioned existence. you are also drawn to the confident souls royal and gold, who will help you grow and show that not everyone seeks to break you. however, you may struggle to get along with the slow-acting personalities of navy and umber who never seem assertive about anything.

Ashenah is Peach

shores, headbands, warm hugs, mugs, fruit baskets, blankets, sleeping cats. your essence is peach: you are a gentle, thorough heart who seeks to spread joy. you wish to create a home for others; you are the soil of the garden, hoping others will plant themselves and never leave. your thoroughness is always humble and you scarcely act alone. you are the tender. you are the homemaker. you find kinship in like-minded individuals of honey, marigold, cream, and apricot, who share your want to help others. you are also drawn to the efficient souls tawny and ashen, who will help you grow and stand on your own. however, you may struggle to get along with the shrewd personalities of lavender and honeysuckle who can be too quickly judgmental.

Nethfari is Navy

brush strokes, suit jackets, midnight, comforters, star gazing, arctic waters, starlings. your essence is navy: you are the keeper of your own narrative. you thrive on uniqueness and the unordinary; everything you feel, you feel deeply, and can be dissatisfied with everyday experiences. you do not shy from the intensity of competition. you are the protagonist. you are the indulgent. you find kinship in like-minded individuals of blue, sky, teal, and indigo, who share your depth and enigma. you are also drawn to the creative souls forest and amber, who will help you grow and learn to feel all of your emotions, not just the productive ones. however, you may struggle to get along with the direct personalities of noir and crimson who are too concerned with forcing their perspective.

Asmodeus is Pearl

abalone, perfume bottles, chandeliers, tulle, balljoint dolls, satin, paint palettes. your essence is pearl: you strive for improvement, and see yourself as the grandest project of all. you cultivate a home in what you do; your signature is unmistakable, perfectly you. you know what's best for others before they're even aware. you are the designer. you are the perfectionist. you find kinship in like-minded individuals of wine, amaranth, ivory, and rose, who also act with purpose. you are also drawn to the honest lavender and periwinkle, who will help you grow and see that you can be true to even your flaws. however, you may struggle to get along with the imaginative personalities of seafoam and coral who don't have a strong purpose.

#the moral of the story is I will gut you if I need to; I will carve my way out with only my teeth // Mourndax headcanon. #''you just don't know when to quit do you?'' call me a slow learner but I don't like giving in to tyrants // Blurg headcanon. #here are the women with ancient anger in their veins and the cruelty of a goddess in their hearts // Ashenah headcanon. #it appears that you have mistaken my dislike of causing harm for an inability to do so // Razzavell headcanon. #I am more powerful than I am damaged and I will rise from any abyss you try to drown me in // Grazilaxx headcanon. #we who wield power adorn ourselves with flowers to hide the sting of our thorns // Orianna headcanon. #I regard you with an indifference closely bordering on aversion // Nethfari headcanon. #half gods are worshipped in wine and flowers; real gods require blood // Asmodeus headcanon. #ignore every instinct to flee. remember: you are a monster too // Amis headcanon. #I'm not like them but I can pretend // Luparon headcanon. #live each day as if it were your last because I'm going to kill you but I'm not super good with schedules // Yzare headcanon.

[mandoalorian]

Agent whisky (Teacher) x New agent (student). As you’re both fighting, you both get hot and bothered and reader throws him against a wall and the rest in folds. (Fem reader)

After Class [Jack Daniels x Reader] SMUT

Word count: 2.4k

Rating: 18+

Warnings: SMUT, p in v, creampie, choking, teacher x student, exhibitionist kink, implied age difference

Masterlist

He was insufferable. He was your teacher — and oh, you hated him. You hated how he'd come into class smelling like sweet, honeyed cologne, causing all the girls to swoon at the mere sight of him. It was laughable, really. He wasn't anything special. He was attractive, sure. He had the charm of a king and the politeness of a saint. But it didn't matter because you hated him, and you wanted him to know that you hated him. So you'd talk during his lectures and you'd roll your eyes whenever he tried addressing you directly. He had this know-it-all attitude, he had these deep, chocolate brown eyes that were so easy to get lost in. The Statesman Academy shouldn't have even hired him. It was so easy to get lost in those damn eyes.

His eyes were just a few shades darker than his hair, which he kept hidden under a cringe-worthy cowboy hat. But you'd be lying to yourself if you said you hadn't dreamt of wearing it while you ride him. The dirty fantasies about Mr Daniels (though he'd have you call him 'sir') didn't become regular until a few months ago. Now it was every single class where you became hypnotised by his attractive looks.

You hated his perfectly groomed mustache and how the thought of it brushing against your cunt haunted you during his seminars. You hated the perfect curve in his nose and how you imagined it nudging against your clit as he performed the most life changing oral on you. If only he knew about the things that went on in that filthy little mind of yours.

You practically gasped out loud when Mr Daniels dropped your assignment on the desk in front of you, a circle with a big red 'F' marked on. He quirked an inquisitive eyebrow at you, before moving on to hand out the rest of the essays. No way— there was no way that your essay has been marked fairly. You might have been slacking just a little this semester (due to Mr Daniels obnoxious handsome looks), but not to the extent of getting an F in your finals!

"Well done class, we all performed exceptionally well this term. There is however one person I need to see after class, she knows who she is," Mr Daniels glanced briefly at you and you narrowed your eyes, folding your arms over your chest. "But have an excellent vacation and remember don't party too hard." He winked cheekily before dismissing the class. Once the students filed out of the room, and the bell rang, signifying the end of the day, Mr Daniels stalked back into the classroom. He said nothing, didn't even spare you a look. He padded over to his desk, sunk into his chair and began to go through paperwork.

You waited for something— anything. The silence was deafening, and you began to tap your feet against the floor impatiently. Why the hell was he holding you hostage in his stuffy classroom on the last day of term? You assumed it was due to your abysmal grade on your essay, but he hadn't even mentioned it. He was ignoring you and once again, you hated him for it.

You were staring him out with absolutely no shame, taking in all his features. You admired his broad shoulders and watched his bicep flex as he wrote comments on the work he was checking through.

He'd noticed your staring too. He always had. He tried to contain the blush that crept up on his cheeks as your eyes burned into his body, watching his every move. You could cut the sexual tension with a knife. If he was going to speak to you about your essay result, he'd need to have a drink first. After a few more minutes of silence, he excused himself and left the classroom. Each professor at the academy had their own affinity for alcohol, Mr Daniels' beverage of choice being a glass of warm whiskey. He poured it into a small tumbler, admiring the amber liquid as he dropped a few cubes of ice in, letting it clink against the glass. The mere thought of you in his classroom, waiting for you, was enough to make his cock stir. He sighed, gulping down the liquid and made his way back to the classroom. It was the first time you and Mr Daniels had some one on one alone time. He hadn't drank enough to get intoxicated, but it was enough for him to lower his inhibitions.

He walked into the classroom and locked the door behind him, before turning to face you.

"Why am I here?" you asked with an unamused frown.

"You went from being a straight A student to getting an F in your most important exam of the year," Mr Daniels huffed with a disappointed shake of his head. You didn't care— no, you couldn't let yourself care about your professor. But seeing the despondency written across his face was enough to make your heart yearn with guilt for letting him down. "What happened?" he quizzed you eventually.

You considered his question. You weren't a dishonest person, and you knew exactly what had happened. You had been so distracted by your professor's ravenous demeanor, that you'd become too overcome with sexual desire to even focus the slightest in his lectures.

"You happened." you said, regretting the words as soon as they left your lips. Your voice broke slightly— you sounded pathetic.

"Excuse me?" he asked, raising both of his eyebrows in disingenuous surprise. You wanted to wipe the smirk that you saw creeping up on his lips. Your education wasn't a joke.

"I was doing fine in Agent Tequila's class," you acknowledged. "Maybe it's your teaching." you shrugged.

"My teaching?" Mr Daniels gasped incredulously.

"Oh quit playing dumb," you said, suddenly rising to your feet. Your chair scraped against the floor as you stalked over to your teacher. "I know my worth Mr Daniels, and it's not an F."

"Please, call me Jack." He hummed, reaching out and caressing your cheek. You subconsciously leaned into his smooth hand as his thumb rubbed gentle circles into your jaw. You hadn't even realised how close he had gotten to you as he admired your face, and the intimacy began to take effect down below.

"Oh, first name basis?" you spat sarcastically, pressing the palm of your hand against his chest, threading your fingers through the buttons of his white shirt so you could gently graze the skin of his tan chest. "How polite."

"Manners maketh man," he smirked, quoting the Statesman mantra, and you wanted to wack that dumb cowboy hat off his head. "Let me translate that for you," he pouted condescendingly, letting his hands fall to your own chest.

He squeezed your tits through your blouse, drawing a few wanton moans from you. "Wh- what makes you think I need that translated?" you asked your professor, trying to keep your cool. This is exactly what you had dreamt about for the past three months. His thumb rolled over your hardening nipples, pinching them now and again so he could watch you squirm underneath his touch.

"The F on your paper?" he shot back. Your eyes widened and you pushed him into the wall, his back slamming against the concrete as he groaned from the pressure you'd placed on him. He would be lying if he said it didn't feel good though. It was rare he'd have a lady take charge — especially not one as young and bright eyed as yourself.

"I hate you," you snarled as his fingers dipped under the hem of your short, pleated skirt. He chuckled darkly, sending a frenzy of butterflies erupting in your stomach.

"Oh sugar," he drawled, the smell of scotch lacing his breath as he pressed a soft kiss into your jaw. You couldn't contain the small whimper that escaped your lips. He smirked, knowing exactly what he could do to you— how he could make you feel. "Look at you… got me pressed against the wall. I'm your teacher." he reminded you with a small tut.

"You drive me crazy," you admitted in a fluster, your hand falling down his button up shirt and resting at his oversized belt buckle. The coolness of the metal stung your skin as you parted your legs slightly, rubbing what you could on his jean clad thigh. "When you stand up there, in front of the class, talking all that shit about, about-" you couldn't even get your words out as his fingers graced your cunt, feeling out your clit under the material of your dampening panties.

"What?" Jack murmured, his teeth grazing your jaw as he sucked softly against your skin. "What is it?" he urged you to continue, your breathing jumping as he continued to softly press his thick fingers along your aching core. You tried to answer but nothing except lewd moan came out, and you felt your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. "You joined the academy. You wanted to train as an agent. Maybe you'd prefer it if I transferred your classes to, let's say, Agent Champ? Or the sweet Ginger Ale?"

You curled your fingers around his leather belt. "N-no," you growled. "I want you," you revealed as you unclipped it and tossed it to one side. You groaned wantonly as you felt his erection press up against your thigh. It was clear that your professor wanted you too. "You know if- if Principal Champ finds out about this…" you moaned, working your fingers at Jack's zipper.

"He's not going to find out about this," Jack snapped, his harsh tone causing your eyes to snap open.

"O-okay cowboy," you bit your lip seductively, finally pulling his zipper down and freeing his hard, aching cock. You immediately wrapped your hand around him, smearing his precum down his length and started to pump at his erection, satisfied with the string of curses falling from his tongue.

"Fuck- so good," Jack praised as you worked his cock with your hands. "But I want more… I want to bury my cock in the warmth of your pussy. Would you like that baby girl?" he hummed, both his hands grabbing on your shoulders as he turned around and pushed you into the wall. You gasped as he ripped open your blouse in one swift manouver, the buttons popping and falling everywhere. His hungry lips pressed against yours as he slid his tongue into your mouth, kissing you roughly and with passion.

"Someone could just walk in." you gasped as Jack yanked your skirt down, letting it pool around your ankles.

He groaned longingly as he played with the waistband of your panties. "Lace? For school? I knew you were a dirty girl." he chuckled darkly before pulling them down. He wasted no time, pressed two fingers into your weeping cunt and rubbing between your folds. He stroked tight and precise circles into your clit, desperate to pump an orgasm out of you before he even entered. Your eyes snapped shut as you pressed your fingernails into his still clothed back. "Oh, you like that don't you?"

"Mm don't stop," you begged, rolling your hips against his fingers.

"Is this what you think about during my lectures?" Jack cooed. "Or do you imagine my cock?" He pressed his blunt tip against the inside of your thigh, pushing himself in between your legs. "So fucking wet and all for me." your professor shook his head in slight awe. You pushed the hat off his head and tangled your fingers in his dark brown hair, tugging teasingly in attempt to gain a reaction out of him.

Without warning, two of his fingers pushed inside of you and began to scissor you open. "If you want my cock I gotta make sure you're able to take it," he whispered huskily.

His fingers worked like magic and it wasn't long before your walls tightened around him and you reached your climax. "Greedy pussy." Jack sighed, removing his fingers and sucking them clean.

"Please sir, fuck me," you begged, your hands cupping his face as he lined himself up with your entrance.

"I told you, call me Jack," he growled before pushing himself deep into your quivering hole.

"Fuck Jack," you whined once he was fully seated. He was bigger than you had ever taken before, and he set a brutal pace. The classroom filled with obscene wet sounds as every single thrust became harder and sloppier as his balls slapped against your dripping cunt.

Jack kept up his pace, not halting once. "You always- you always fucking answer back," he whispered, digging one hand into your hip and bringing the other to your neck, squeezing it just enough for your eyes to widen slightly.

"Mm you always give me a reason too," you shot back and Jack's grip around you tightened as he fucked you senselessly.

"Shit, gonna cum. Gonna cum inside you and you're going to take it— understood?" he asked breathlessly. You nodded in affirmation and it only took a few more messy thrusts before he spilled his salty seed inside you.

He carefully sat you down on the edge of his desk as you came down from your own high. "Are you okay?" he asked you as he tucked himself back in his pants and adjusted his tie.

"That better have earned me an A," you muttered, biting your lip and shooting a seductive glance towards your teacher.

"Fair is fair," Jack shrugged. "You can leave when you're ready. Have a nice vacation." he smiled, back to his usual polite professor self. It made you sick— the way he could just fuck you with no remorse against the wall of his classroom and then pretend like nothing happened.

You stood up, taking your clothes from the ground and lazily sliding back into your skirt. "I don't have a fucking blouse," you mumbled, your eyes following the abundance of buttons that trailed across the floor. "You ruined it."

Mr Daniels took his suit jacket and wrapped it around your naked torso, buttoning it up gently so you were all covered up. "Do you need a lift home?" he asked.

You bit your lip, remembering your parents weren't home and smiled. "Actually, yeah please." you told him, wondering if he'd be interested in a round two.

Taglist — let me know if you wish to be added!

Permanent: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth @moth-guillotine @pedro-pascal-love @hayley-the-comet @pinkninja190 @maxiarapamaya @autumnleaves1991-blog

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #agent whiskey x reader #jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey #jack daniels #jack daniels smut #agent whiskey smut #kingsman

[o-wyrmlight]

thoughts on purelily?

... :/

I consider Dark Enchantress to be White Lily. Perhaps not White Lily as she was in the past, but Dark Enchantress is just as much Dark Enchantress just as much as she used to be White Lily. It's disingenuous to her character to ignore that.

So when I see Pure Vanilla Cookie's statues in World 10 being 'X'ed out with red paint that is representative of blood or jam--I felt some part of me just... struggle with that for a while. It gave me severe whiplash. It made me think, 'Wait. But if they did love each other in the past, then this is... horrifying.'

Can you imagine loving someone in the past--whether it be platonic or romantic, to the deepest depths of your heart--and then many, many years down the line, you find that? You find drawings made in your image have been cruely defaced, depicting you as bleeding. Depicting you as if they wanted you dead. Like, Jesus, that makes me so...

Uncomfortable, I suppose. How much does Dark Enchantress have to hate Pure Vanilla to have done something like that, to someone that she once called a friend?

And even in the past, if we completely dismiss what White Lily ends up becoming. I could ship it. It wouldn't be a healthy ship. I can very easily imagine White Lily being a negative influence in Pure Vanilla's life. Pure Vanilla, a people pleaser, wanting to please his new friend who seems otherwise so lonely and without anyone else. Pure Vanilla, who knows that without him, she would have no one else. Pure Vanilla, who doesn't want his new friend to suddenly be so alone.

But White Lily... she has good intentions, I feel, even if it's thickly laced in eugenics. She just doesn't want cookies to suffer and crumble so easily, but that's also so dismissive to the cookies who do. And Pure Vanilla just wants to genuinely help people. He's a peaceful healer--he wants to help cookies.

So... of course he would help White Lily. Especially in his youth. But does he realize how it runs him down? Does he realize how much she's using him, even if she doesn't realize it herself? I don't really feel like going too into detail with how lowkey emotionally abusive that sort of situation would be, even if it is entirely unintentional.

Listen. I like the idea of them being friends. And I have nothing against them being good friends, at that. Perhaps even former lovers. But in terms of my own thought process, I just can't really... ship it without the underlying discomfort of thinking, 'This is toxic. This is so toxic. Oh my god.'

I see Purelily and I think about those statues. And I just think, 'Oh my god. She's going to want him dead.'

#i don't know if i want this to be in main tags or not so :/

[hale-13]

Shackled

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 7 Prompt - Collared

Peter Parker had been missing for one full week and Ned was losing his mind.

Words: 2502, Chapters: 1/1 (Complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Ned Leeds

Characters: Peter Parker, Ned Leeds

TW: Angst

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

“Ned honey?” His mom said, knocking on the frame of his cracked open door and poking her head in. Her expression was as careful and neutral as it had been for the last week – ever since Peter had gone missing on his walk to school.

Ned had spent most of the morning between classes trying to text Peter (seriously – it was just super rude to not be in school and not tell your friends. Who did that?) before both he and MJ had been called to the office. Principal Morita was both gentle and firm as he questioned them about Peter’s possible whereabouts and ‘were they covering for him? No one was in trouble they just needed to know’. May hadn’t called Peter in sick and had no idea where he might be so, naturally, they assumed his best friends might have some clue. Ever since he had gotten his powers Peter had been pretty flaky but, so far, he had always at least sent some sort of message to someone if he had Spider Business.

May, more frantic now, had tried to alert the police but had been shot down since Peter had been missing less than twenty-four hours and was what they would classify as ‘troubled’ with his absence record and disciplinary record at school. Tony Stark, who had been May’s next call, had gone into full panic-helicopter-mentor mode and had hacked into cameras all over the city to try and find out what he could. Unfortunately, the footage seemed to have been wiped leaving them with no leads other than Peter’s discarded book bag and cellphone left in an alley not far from the school.

Finding this had finally spurred the police into motion and had prompted an Amber Alert and search parties made up of May’s co-workers and Peter’s friends. Tony was surveying things via the Iron Legion while he spent most of his time in his workshop in the Tower; using FRIDAY and probably lots of illegal methods to try and track Peter down.

Ned had been helping May and MJ just about everyday after school since to hang up flyers and ask around to see if anyone had seen Peter but, so far, no luck. His parents had been doing what they could to help as well but Ned knew they could see him cracking under the pressure and worry.

They had, in fact, pulled him into a conversation the night before to tell him they wanted him to talk to a therapist, that finding someone missing after the first fourth-eight hours was really hard and they wanted to do what they could to prepare him for all eventualities and that they would always be there for him no matter what.

Ned liked to think he was a pretty chill and easy-going guy for the most part so he won’t say that he’s proud of how he handled that conversation. At least his parents didn’t get too upset when he skipped school with MJ to keep looking that day.

“Hmm?” Ned asked, not bothering to look up from his computer where he was pretending to write his English essay but seeing his mom’s cautious expression in his peripheral vision anyway. He didn’t like that she looked at him like he was made of glass that might shatter at any given moment.

“Your father and I are going to go grab some dinner and maybe see a movie. Want to come with us?” She sounded so hopeful and a small, angry part of Ned hated how normal they were trying to make things. Didn’t they understand that his best friend since kindergarten, his only friend other than MJ, was missing and could be… could be…

“No thanks,” he said instead, trying to keep his tone as neutral as possible and pretending not to see the hurt look on his mom’s face when he turned down her offer.

“Okay,” she said, her tone soft with just the barest edge of disapproval. He was just glad that she didn’t try to force him into going but he had a feeling that he was due for another ‘family chat’ soon. “Text me if you want us to bring you something back.”

“Thanks,” Ned mumbled, still not looking up even when his mom let out a sad sigh and left, pulling his door back closed. Ned sniffed and wiped his tired eyes, he had a headache that was brewing and he wanted nothing more than to sleep but he couldn’t. If it was him missing he knew that Peter wouldn’t take any breaks looking for him so Ned couldn’t either. They had to find him.

Hearing the front door shut, Ned closed out of his essay and pulled back up Karen’s systems, still on his computer from the last time he and Peter had hacked into the Spider Suit, and went over the data she had managed to extract from Mr. Stark’s AI, FRIDAY without him knowing or, more likely, without him trying to stop them from taking the info for themselves. It was Tony Stark after all. The data itself was a disappointingly small amount and nothing that really helped point him in any kind of definitive direction. His phone buzzed against the desk, pulling Ned back.

From: MJ

Anything?

Ned rubbed his eyes again, little lights dancing over his vision at the pressure and typed out a quick ‘No’ in response before tossing his phone to the side. Something had to turn up eventually. He just knew it would.

As if summoned, taps sounded on his window and Ned froze, not daring to hope. He waited and the taps sounded again, more incessantly this time, and Ned jumped up from his desk – banging his knee in the process and nearly falling – but making it to the window to unlock it and throw it open. It couldn’t be…

After a week of being missing, Peter fell through to land roughly on the hard wood flooring of Ned’s room.

“Peter,” Ned said, breathless and voice full of emotion as tears pricked his eyes, reaching out a hand to help Peter up and then backing away when his friend flinched violently away from him.

“Sorry,” Peter said, his voice rough as he forced himself to his feet with a disingenuous smile on his face that didn’t reach his eyes. “Sorry.”

Ned narrowed his eyes in concern. Peter was pale, his face thinner than it had been the last time Ned had seen him. He was wearing dirty sweat pants and a shirt that may have been white in a previous lifetime but was now yellowed and dirty. His clothing was covered in rips and tears, bloody skin in various stages of healing peaking through and staining his clothes. His fingers were twitching in time with the tic in his left eyebrow and his eyes were shifting all over the place like he was looking for something.

Worst of all had to be the half broken metal collar with wires poking out around his neck and the clear electrical burns surrounding it.

“We need to call May,” Ned said, rushing to his phone. “We need to call Mr. Stark.”

“No!” Peter said, limping quickly across the room to block Ned from his phone. The hand that touched his was cold and clammy with sweat and Peter was quick to remove it once he realized he was touching Ned. “They can’t see me like this, especially May. You have to help me,” he pleaded.

“Peter,” Ned said sadly as he took in how broken and tired his friend looked. “You need to go to the hospital – I’m not a doctor! I can’t fix all of… this!” He exclaimed, gesturing to all of Peter with an exaggerated movement.

Peter flinched again and crossed his arms across his abdomen, hunching in on himself. “I know,” he said, voice rough and broken. “I know but I don’t want them to see… I don’t…” he made an abortive movement to gesture at the collar. “I almost got it off but I couldn’t… please help.”

“You promise to let me call May and Tony right after?” Ned asked, slowly reaching out to rest his hand on Peter’s shoulder. He wanted to pull him into a hug but he figured that wouldn’t go over too well just yet. Peter nodded hurriedly, some of the tension leaking out of him with Ned’s agreement, and he let himself sink ungracefully to the floor. “Why didn’t you just break it?”

“It uh,” Peter said, squeezing his eyes closed and wetting his lips. “It suppresses my powers.”

“Whoa,” Ned muttered, sitting next to Peter and surveying the collar more closely. Peter twitched his chin down and hunched his shoulders again and Ned just waited for him to relax enough for Ned to get a closer look. The collar was a thick and heavy dull metal and was seated tight enough around Peter’s throat to dig into his skin and chafe; Ned winced sympathetically. The red light on the front was blinking dimly, poking out from a thick black box that Peter had clearly torn into at some point. Peter was uncharacteristically quiet while Ned stared but every muscle in his body was tensed like he was ready to run if necessary. “Can I hug you?” Ned blurted out earnestly making Peter jump a little in surprise.

“I… um you… what?” He asked leaning back so he could look at Ned more fully.

“You look like you need a hug,” Ned told him, reaching his arms up but taking care not to touch Peter. “So can I hug you?”

The nod Peter gave him was wobbly and wooden but, the second Ned wrapped his arms around him and pulled him in, Peter went limp, mashing his face into Ned’s shoulder before letting out a quiet and broken little sob. Peter’s own arms were shaking as they wrapped back around Ned, crying harder and wetting the front of Ned’s shirt with tears.

Ned could feel his heart breaking in his chest but that was overshadowed by a feeling of anger so strong that it nearly turned his vision red. Peter had been his best friend since they were kids. Peter had always been there for him no matter what. Whoever had dared to do this… well Ned didn’t pity what was going to happen to them. In lieu of letting out his frustrations, Ned just pulled Peter in tighter, shushing him and carefully patting his back.

“Sorry,” Peter whispered a few minutes later when he pulled back, using trembling hands to wipe his reddened eyes and chapped cheeks free of tears. “I didn’t mean to break down like that on you,” he said with a humorless laugh.

“Peter…” Ned wanted to tell Peter that he could always break down around Ned if he needed to. Peter was his brother in all but blood – Ned would always be there for him – but Peter shook his head violently to stop him, reaching up to let blood stained fingers brush the collar – his nails ragged and torn down to the quick.

“Please,” he begged, looking like he was barely keeping it together and Ned nodded.

“Okay Pete. I’ll look at it,” Ned reassured, moving his hands slowly up to touch the skin-warmed metal around his friend’s throat. “Does this have a tracker in it? A stun feature?” He tried to keep it professional but Peter still grimaced at the questions.

“I disabled the tracker and the electricity I think,” Peter said. “I just can’t see the mechanism to release it and I just… I need it off. I can’t…” his breathing sped up and Ned gripped his shoulder tightly in solidarity.

“It’ll be okay,” Ned said again, cautiously sorting through the loose wires to look into the black box just under Peter’s chin. “When you said this suppressed your powers did you mean all of them?”

Peter gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing painfully against the metal as he gave a tiny nod. “All of them,” he confirmed.

“What about your hearing?” Ned pressed, pulling his hands back from the locking mechanism of the collar. Peter frowned at him before paling further at the realization.

“Oh,” he said, reaching both hands up to grip the collar. “My hearing…”

“If I take it off,” Ned cautioned, “and all your senses come back at once…”

“That would be bad,” Peter confirmed. “It would be very bad.”

“I know you don’t want me to,” Ned started, ignoring the way that Peter was shaking his head. “But I really think we should call May and Mr. Stark. They’re worried about you and Mr. Stark has that sensory deprivation room for your overloads.”

“I can’t do that to May,” Peter said firmly. “I already went and got myself kidnapped I can’t put her through this.” His voice was more steady than it had been since he had arrived and Ned felt like rolling his eyes at Peter’s typical self-flagellation.

“Happy then,” Ned suggested, desperate. Peter bit his lip, considering for a second, before nodding his consent prompting Ned to leap for his phone, dialing Happy before Peter could stop him.

“Look Leeds,” Happy grumbled into the phone, the background noise muffling his voice slightly. “I already told you – we’ll call when we know something so just-,”

“Peter’s here,” Ned blurted out, sitting back down next to his friend and pulling him into a half hug that Peter fell into willingly, curling up into Ned’s side. “He’s here. “Whoever had him put this… they… look he doesn’t want May to see him until he’s fixed up some so can you just come get us?” Ned asked following it up with a ‘Please’ as an afterthought.

“The kid’s with you?” Happy asked, sounding like he was running. “Put him on the phone.”

“He wants to talk to you,” Ned said, offering Peter the phone which he, reluctantly, took.

“Hey Happy,” Peter tried for chipper but fell spectacularly short and Ned winced a little. “I’m okay they just put… look I don’t want May to see me like… to see… can you just come get me please?” Peter sounded teary again and Ned plucked the phone from his hand to put back to his own ear.

“You’re coming right?”

“On my way,” Happy confirmed. “Give me eight minutes.” And with that he hung up the phone leaving Ned to drop it into his lap.

“I should probably text MJ,” he told Peter, not making any effort to move. “She’ll be pissed if she’s the last to know,” he joked and Peter snorted.

“Probably,” he agreed, letting his eyes slip closed and his breathing even out.

He needed to text MJ, call his mom and let her know Peter was back and that he was going to visit, pull Peter out into the living room to wait for Happy. But, Ned decided as Peter gripped Ned’s hoodie a little tighter, it could wait for just a few more minutes.

#summerofwhump #summerofwhump17 #Prompt: Collared #irondad #spider man #Summer of Whump 2021

[remywrites5]

can you do some jegulus?

           James was sitting on his bed playing FIFA when his roommate, Regulus, came in and slammed the door shut. Reg was clearly upset so James quickly paused the game and watched as Reg went over to his bed and flopped down onto it. He put his face into his pillow and let out a scream.

           James walked over and poked Reg in the back. “Problem?”

           Reg turned his face to the side and looked up at him. “I just saw Barty at the campus coffeeshop flirting with one of the baristas.”

           “Ah,” James said, nodding in understanding. Reg and Barty had been talking for the last few months after hooking up at a campus party. James didn’t really see the appeal but he had kept his mouth shut because he wanted Regulus to be happy. Barty always seemed to come off as a prick and James was pretty sure Reg wasn’t the only person he was talking to.

           In truth, James had a complicated relationship with Reg himself. Reg’s twin brother, Sirius, was James’ best friend and they had roomed together for the first year of University. But then Sirius met Remus and fell in love, blah blah blah, and now they were rooming together. Having been out a roommate, James had agreed to room with Reg. The only problem was James had been crushing on Reg for over a year now, so rooming wasn’t exactly the best idea, but James Potter liked to be accommodating. Also he didn’t have a good enough reason to tell Reg no.

           Since then it had been a bit torturous watching Regulus talk to a bunch of guys who were, in James’ honest opinion, a bunch of wankers. They might have been perfectly nice guys, but James had no choice except to loathe them entirely.

           That’s why James said the thing – the completely idiotic thing  - that he would immediately regret. “You want to make him jealous?”

           Regulus sat up and looked at James in confusion. “How?”

           “He follows you on Snapchat, right?” James said with a grin. “We could take a couple of pictures and post them to your story. When he sees them I bet he’ll be hella jealous and come crawling back.”

           “You’d do that for me?” Regulus asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow at James.

           “I mean nothing too risqué,” James clarified quickly. He didn’t think his heart would be able to handle that. “Just, you know, pictures that could be interpreted as us getting pretty cozy with each other.”

           “That would be amazing!” Regulus exclaimed excitedly. He hopped out of bed and went over to James’ closet.

           “What are you doing?” James asked, sitting down on his bed and watching as Regulus rifled through his stuff. Reg held a few pieces of clothing up to himself in the mirror and decided on James’ team hoodie from his football days. It was in his old high school colours, red and gold, and had Potter written on the back. Reg stripped off his own shirt and tugged the hoodie on.

           James had a good ten centimeters on Reg and was a lot more muscular and broad shouldered than his roommate. What this meant that Reg was swimming in his hoodie a little bit with it falling to his mid-thigh. James swallowed thickly as his heart relocated to his throat. Suddenly James realized just how incredibly dumb he was for thinking that he could pull this off without Reg finding out how gone James was on him.

           Reg bit his lip and played with his hair for a moment in the mirror before turning to face James. “How do I look?”

           James cleared his throat. “Really good,” he said as evenly as he could manage.

           Regulus smiled and walked over to the bed. He grabbed James and moved his limbs into the position he wanted. James let out a yelp of surprise as Reg crawled into his lap and buried his face in James’ neck. “Do you mind taking it?”

           James took Reg’s phone and opened it easily. They both knew each other’s codes for their phone for emergency purposes. James held the phone out to get a good angle, making sure his name was visible on Reg’s back, for entirely selfish reasons. “Glasses or no glasses?” he asked before he took the picture.

           “Glasses,” Reg said softly. “I think you look sexy in them.”

           “Yeah they help me see,” James responded dumbly because his mind had apparently decided to go offline without his permission.

           Regulus laughed and slid his arms around James’ waist. “Just take a couple and we’ll adjust as needed.”

           “Okay,” James said, resting his chin on the top of Reg’s head. He’d never really though he’d had a thing for a height difference but he found himself really enjoying it. Reg felt so small and soft in his arms and James felt this overwhelming want to protect him. Although he knew if Reg could hear what he was thinking then he would hit him for it.

           James snapped a couple of pictures and then handed the phone off to Reg to see. Reg sat up straight and looked through them, taking his time to examine each one. “I think I like this one best, what do you think?” Reg held up his phone and displayed the picture to James.

           “Looks great,” James said encouragingly. He let his fingers play with the hem of his hoodie that Reg was wearing, his fingers just barely brushing over Reg’s warm skin.

           “Can I kiss you?”

           James felt his entire body tense up at the question. ‘What?”

           “It would really sell it, don’t you think?” Reg asked, chewing his bottom lip as he posted the picture to his story. “Or would it sell it too much? I kind of want him to come crawling back like you said.”

           “Oh, um, I think that might be taking it too far,” James said, sliding Reg off his lap and standing up. The last thing he needed was to be snogging Reg just so he could get that prick back. Why did he want his attention in the first place?

           “It would just be one kiss,” Reg promised, looking up at James pleadingly. “Just one little kiss and nothing more.”

           “I said no, Reg!” James yelled, tugging his fingers through his hair. “I don’t want to, okay? I don’t want to do that.”

           “Then that’s all you had to say,” Regulus said icily, narrowing his eyes at James. “This was all your stupid idea to begin with.”

           “Well you got your picture,” James shot back, grabbing his wallet and keys and shoving his feet into his trainers. Suddenly their dorm room felt so small and if he stayed he was going to say something he would regret. He couldn’t handle any of this, especially not with Reg still wearing his hoodie. Why did he have to go around trying to help people all the time? “So leave it, Reg.”

           “Fine, I’m leaving it.” Reg lowered his eyes to the floor. He stood and went over to his own bed, pulling the covers up to his chin with his back to James.

           James slipped out of their dorm, locking it behind him, and starting to walk with no real destination in mind. Why the fuck did he have to be so bloody awkward around Regulus? Why couldn’t he have just kissed him like it was no big deal? It would have been easy to pretend it was just a game like spin the bottle. Now Regulus had to know that it meant something to James and it would make everything uncomfortable.

           James sat down on the front steps of their student housing and buried his face in his hands, pushing his glasses up to his forehead. After giving himself a few moments to wallow, he opened his phone and pulled up Snapchat. He immediately went to Reg’s story and saw the picture of the two of them. He kept reopening it so that he could look at it over and over. It looked so real that it made James’ heart ache in a way it hadn’t since high school when Lily Evans had rejected him over and over. Since then, he liked to think he’d been a bit smarter with his heart, but apparently not that smart.

           “You fucking dumbass,” James groaned to himself.

                                                           ***

           James figured their picture had worked based on that fact that Reg started hanging out with that prat, Barty, again. James would come home to find Reg and Barty cuddled up together watching Netflix on Reg’s bed. James had no problem ruining their evening, turning on his game or doing his homework at his desk, so they couldn’t fool around.

           Things hadn’t really improved between Reg and James since the night they’d taken that picture. James had found his hoodie hanging back in his closet and it had clearly been washed. James had no idea why the idea of that made him so extremely angry. Maybe it was the fact that Reg had been too much of a coward to give it back to James directly. Instead he had just hidden it back in James’ closet and erased any trace that he had worn it in the first place.

           James tried to move on so that things could get back to normal. He got Tinder again and went on a few dates with a very nice girl named Mary McDonald. It felt disingenuous to continue to see her though so he ended things as gently as he could. As terrible as it was to admit, being with Mary wasn’t making James feel any better about being in love with his roommate. It was unfair to her to pursue anything while he still had feelings for Reg.

           He couldn’t help thinking about that night and would have happened if he had taken Reg up on his offer to kiss. Would things have been even more awkward once Reg realized just how into it James was? Or maybe it would have been the start of something – something so precious that it made James hurt just to think about it.

                                                           ***

           “Will you please – for the love of God – stop being such a pathetic mess?” Sirius begged, tousling James’ hair playfully. “We’re on our way to a party not a funeral!”

           James did his best to smile and nudged his best friend. “I guess I’m just still distraught that you’re not in love with me.”

           Sirius snorted. “Tough luck, Prongs. I don’t go for speccy gits with no fashion sense.”

           “Remus wears reading glasses.”

           “It just hits different,” Sirius assured him, throwing his arm around James’ shoulders. “Besides, I have a feeling your type is me only worse and with less personality.”

           “Shut up,” James grumbled, feeing his face grow hot.

           “So you do have a thing for Reg!” Sirius crowed with laughter, hitting James on the chest. “I had a feeling. That picture the two of you took was a little too convincing. You looked so fucking smitten in it, I swear to God.”

           “Doesn’t matter,” James muttered, kicking a pebble by his feet. “It was just a means to an end. He’s with Barty now. What a dumb name. Barty. It sounds like a stupid children’s show character.”

           “You’re thinking of Barney,” Sirius corrected him with an amused huff. “Besides, the bloke got stuck with a name like Bartemius. I don’t think there’s many ways to salvage that.”

           “I kind of hate him,” James confessed, feeling himself relax a little bit. It was nice to be able to talk with Sirius about this finally.

           “He does seem like a dickhead,” Sirius agreed with a heavy sigh. “Reg always did know how to pick them.”

           “So you’re saying I have no shot with him?”

           Sirius shot James a look. “I don’t know, you have your arsehole qualities.”

           “Oi!”

           “It all comes from a place of love, Jamie!” Sirius insisted, giving James a big wet kiss on the cheek. They got to the street corner where they were meeting up with Remus, who was coming off a shift at work. Remus was already there waiting for them, wrapped up in a scarf against the cold, his cheeks tinged pink. “Now why would I want you when I can have that?”

           Sirius bounded over to his boyfriend and put his arms around his shoulders. Remus gave him an exasperated but fond look and indulged him in a kiss. James shook his head and walked over to join them, third wheeling it as usual. “Alright, Moony?”

           “Hey James,” Remus said, smiling kindly at him. “Excited for the party?”

           “Well alcohol couldn’t hurt, right?” James joked, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

           Remus’ brow furrowed in concern. “He’s in love with Reg,” Sirius explained, sliding his hand down Remus’ arm and then grasping his hand. He tugged on it and began walking towards the party.

           Remus glanced over his shoulder and shot James a sympathetic look. “If you ever need to come over to ours just let us know, okay?”

           “Thanks Remus,” James said, falling in step behind them. “I’ll be fine.”

           Remus nodded encouragingly even if his face said he didn’t fully believe James. “Of course you will.”

           They were only a few blocks away from the party and James could already hear the music blasting some early 2000’s hip hop. It was the Prewett twins birthday party bash. The twins were a year older than James, Remus and Sirius, and their birthday party was always legendary. They lived in a shared house off campus with about six other guys and were always doing crazy shite. Last year they had rigged up a slide from their second story window. The party usually got broken up because of noise complaints but until then it was a blast.

           They got to the front door and were each handed a beer. It was policy for a Prewett party that you had to shotgun a beer in order to ender. James and Sirius grinned at each other and both pierced their beers before starting to chug them. They were both fairly competitive with each other and tried to beat the other. Of course Remus smoked them both easily and Sirius could only wink suggestively. “My man knows what he’s doing.”

           Remus rolled his eyes and led the way into the party, already unwrapping his scarf from the heat from all the bodies piled inside. “Oh my god they have a trampoline,” Sirius said, smacking James in the arm. Out the back porch door they could see a huge trampoline set up on the lawn and people were jumping off the balcony onto it and then back up. “We have to!”

           “Absolutely not!” Remus said, shaking his head emphatically. “I don’t fancy going to hospital tonight.”

           Sirius pouted for a moment and then turned to James. “You in, Prongs?”

           “Yeah!” James said, needing something to get his mind off of things. A huge adrenaline rush seemed like it would do the trick.

           James and Sirius raced up the stairs to the second story balcony. “Alright there, lads?” Gideon greeted them as they went through the window. “Feeling brave tonight?”

           “Definitely!” James said, bouncing on the balls of his feet excitedly.

           “Just have to go one at a time,” Gideon informed them. “Don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

           Sirius turned towards James and they did a quick rock-paper-scissors to see who would go first. James won and stepped up to the edge of the balcony. He took a deep breath and jumped, his stomach dropping as he fell through the air. Then it was like he was falling in slow motion as his eyes locked on none other than Barty Crouch Jr. snogging someone that was definitely not Reg. He hit the trampoline and went back up, his body flopping around like a ragdoll for a moment before dropping back down again.

           “What the fuck was that?” Sirius shouted from the balcony. But James was already rolling off the trampoline and heading for Barty.

           “What are you doing?” James shouted, his hands curling into fists. Barty and the bloke he was snogging pulled away from each other. Barty barely had a moment to realize what was about to happen before James’ fist connected with his smug face.

           “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Barty yelled, holding his nose.

           “How could you do this to him?” James said, ready to hit Barty again. He could hear people rushing over and then Sirius was there behind him, looking like he was unsure if he should hit Barty as well or restrain James.

           “Who?”

           “Reg!” James growled, his fist tightening. He swore he was going to hit him again. “Regulus Black, remember him?”

           Barty looked at James as if he were crazy. “Regulus and I broke up a week ago. He said he had feeling for someone else.”

           “Oh,” James said, blinking a few times. “Shit, I’m sorry mate. I didn’t know – “

           “Yeah, whatever,” Barty said, walking towards the house with his face tilted up to stop the blood dripping down his face. “Fucking mental case.”

           “What the fuck is going on?” Sirius asked but James was already pulling his phone out and dialing Reg’s number. All the air left his lungs the moment the call connected and he heard Reg’s voice on the other end.

           “James?”

           “Where are you?”

           “I’m at our dorm,” Regulus answered in confusion. “No need for me to guess where you are.”

           “Stay right there.”

           “James – what – “

           James rang off the phone before Regulus could ask him any more questions. He smacked a big kiss onto Sirius’ cheek and then took off running. He hopped the fence instead of trying to go back through the party, as it would only slow him down. He sprinted through the streets, his breath stinging from the cold, his mind singularly focused on getting to Reg as soon as possible.

           When he burst through the door of their dorm room, Reg was in bed scrolling through his phone. He sat up when James entered, his eyes wide in surprise. “James, did you run the whole way here?”

           “That’s not important,” James said, waving him off.

           “What happened to your hand?”

           “I punched Barty,” James said impatiently. “It’s not important!”

           “It’s not,” Regulus said slowly, looking extremely concerned. James knew he must look slightly manic, his hair a mess from the wind, breathing heavily and his hand bruised. “Then what is important, James?”

           “Do you have feelings for me?” James asked, his chest still heaving as he tried to get his breath back.

           “I – I don’t think that’s a very fair question,” Regulus said, ducking his head down.

           “Why not?”

           “Because you didn’t want to kiss me,” Regulus said, pulling his knees up to his chest, looking small and vulnerable. James wanted nothing more than to gather Reg into his arms. “And that would have been fine but then you ignored me for weeks. Now you rush in here demanding to know if I have feelings for you and it doesn’t feel very fair.”

           James soaked in Reg’s words for a moment. “Fuck, I’ve made a right old meal of this, haven’t I?” he said, scratching the back of his neck nervously. “Let me ask that again. Reg, I’m in love with you and I’d be very interested to know how you feel about me because I really want to kiss you.”

           Regulus’ gaze snapped up to meet James’, looking for any sign that this was a joke. When he found none his mouth dropped. “Oh,” he said softly, a small smile playing on his lips. “Yes. I love you and please kiss me.”

           James walked over with every bit of self-control he had left and sat down next to Reg. He cupped Reg’s face in his hands and watched Reg’s steel grey eyes flutter closed. James felt his own eyelids drift shut at the first press of his lips against Reg’s. It was soft and sweet and already addicting. He forced himself to pull back after a moment and something caught his eye. “You’re wearing my hoodie.”

           Regulus blushed a deep red. It was utterly adorable. “Yeah, um I wear it when you’re not here. I’m sorry, I’ll wash it and put it back. “

           “Keep it,” James said, grinning. He pressed a few more soft kisses to Reg’s lips just because he could. “It’s yours now.”

           Regulus laughed. “Are we talking about the hoodie or you?”

           “Both,” James said, tugging at Regulus until he was sitting across James’ lap, tucked in against him. Suddenly his only plans for the weekend were to kiss and cuddle Regulus as much as possible. And maybe ice his hand because it bloody hurt. “Both is good.”

#jegulus #I write things #fluff #anon prompt #long post #james potter x regulus black #background wolfstar #jealousy #fake dating #kind of #university au #oh my god they were roommates

[shintorikhazumi]

Trope 2: Accidental Marriage

Trope 2: Accidental Marriage- From: No Please

A/N: I might do a part 2 to this, maybe. Also, Sorry to the one who requested something else first. Still looking for a trope to match your description :’<, but I will get to it!! Please do submit um, specific tropes. That will also make it kinda easier :)). Thank you!

Sorry if this isn’t quite what you had in mind? I had fun though. Will try to stick closer to the theme next time ;-;. Really need to practice. This feels more like… unintended? Marriage? Then Accidental? Yep. I might just need to redo this prompt someday huehuehue. I’ve been burnt out of good ideas lately so. This is ;-; sorry. Realized too late, and couldn’t retract, rip.

This is not a short, it seems. I have failed. Both the short, and the prompt. I’m sorry. ;-;

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

Trope 2: Accidental Marriage- From: No Please

“This… was not quite what I meant before when I said I needed a partner who could stand alongside me on stage forever.” Claudine muttered, still shocked as she played with the ring on her finger, beholding it with some sort of awe, and slight awkwardness.

“Is that so?” The question was followed by a thoughtful hum. “This was exactly what I had in mind, though.” Maya smiled flirtatiously across the table, act perfect as always as she pretended Claudine’s words and the migraine she currently sported did not hurt her as much as they actually did.

“Hmmm.” Claudine simply continued to scrutinize the jewelry that now adorned her finger, not sparing Maya a glance.

This made the latter deflate, confidence shrinking by the minute. Claudine… did she really dislike the situation all that much?

Maybe Maya should find this sudden, forced(?) romantic engagement weird as well. After all,

They were only best friends.

And best friends didn’t just wake up side-by-side, married, out of the blue.

-As much as Maya loved the mere idea of it.

The events of yesternight were surprisingly vivid and fresh in her mind; Claudine’s as well. This only served to feed the uncomfortable atmosphere and embarrassment between them as they tried to wrap their heads around the thought of them actually, legitimately, officially being married.

How had it even come to that point?

Well…

It all started with Maya’s celebratory party after a successful nation-wide tour for her new show. Claudine had come to watch the top star in all her glory on the closing night, and had gotten herself invited along with the cast afterwards while the pair had been exchanging pleasantries and the usual congratulations. Claudine had been pulled along so naturally, like she was meant to be with the group, and it wasn’t even on Maya’s request.

Maya was ever in awe of her former partner’s charisma, drawing her own cast to the French actress, as if she were their companion these past few months of dedicated rehearsals and shows.

She was happy, and just the slightest bit jealous. Of Claudine or her cast? Maya didn’t really know.

Another thing she did not know was that everyone knew something. That there was something different, different about Maya and Claudine, leading to this turn of events.

After months of dealing with a stoic Maya with minimal genuine emotions slipping by, they’d known in a heartbeat when things changed. Changed when Saijou Claudine, her best friend, was around. They’d have to be blind to not notice how Tendou Maya was always much more enthusiastic in practice whenever Claudine would drop by. Though of course, she was always perfect during any performance, whether in practice or the final thing.

But the troupe knew it was different. It just was. As unexplainable as it was.

There would be weeks when Claudine would never show up, and sometimes it felt like practice was a little tense. Maya was like a deprived pup, waiting on her owner, eyes darting to the door at the end of the practice hall any chance she’d get. She thought she was being discreet, but no. No, she was not.

By no means did her distraction ever weigh anyone down. Maya would die before letting something as trivial as feelings get to her. But… it was clear when her heart was in a place separate from the stage. It never did leave, but it occasionally wandered off, taking its steps farther and farther to where Claudine was as time went by.

Moments like those, the cast had learned to deal with. With how often Claudine came over, they’d all gotten to know each other enough to exchange numbers, and it was simply an easy matter of praying the woman wasn’t too busy for a quick video call, the troupe members shoving a smiling Claudine on their phone screen, the blonde tutting Maya and telling her to move her ass along and stop troubling the rest of the group.

They could just see the light beaming off of Maya even as she was being scolded; so happy, so pleased.

‘Best friends’ their ass.

She’d make a haughty, faux-prideful remark and Claudine would call her out on it, be her usual irritated self with the occasional “mechante va!” . Maya would laugh airily at her, before calming down and mumbling softly how she missed Claudine, how she wished she could pay her a visit- selfish as it sounded. Claudine would then apologize for being so busy, tell Maya that her schedule was hectic at the moment, but that she’d try to swing by one way or another soon. The cast would pretend they didn’t hear the longing in the pair’s tones over the phone, how Maya’s usually perfect posture would slip, frame slouching in poorly-hidden sorrow.

Being apart clearly tore at her. But what could anyone do? Maya had chosen the world of Takarazuka, and Claudine went to walk on broadway. It was surprising enough that they were able to still visit one another as often as they did, Maya surely having been on Claudine’s sets more than once, always welcome, and ever well-known.

They were inseparable, not only physically, but in public image and name as well.

And so with all this knowledge, it was only the obvious choice that Claudine would be invited as an honorary guest to the afterparty, right? No problems with that, right?

….right. Maybe.

Everything had been going swell at first. All was the norm when it came to these somewhat generic parties. There were the usual speeches, acknowledgements, some challenges, karaoke and games. Yes, games. And one game just so happened to swerve them completely off of the safe course.

Maya had been observing Claudine the whole night from where she was seated at the head of the table with important producers and guests. She tried her utmost to hide the annoyance at being interviewed after a long show, unable to enjoy the ambience of the festivities. Coupled with that were the people attempting to get with her, or at least suck up to her good graces. Albeit, she should be used to all this, with Claudine so near, yet so out of reach, it only served to tick her off each second that went by with these snakes of men and women coiling about her, choking her with their disingenuous praises.They were as acid in her ears, burning hot and unwelcomely painful.

The horrid collective concentration of their too-strong “fancy” perfumes with scents all jumbled and odd, along with all the alcohol they made her down (she willingly did so, if only to distract herself from all of them) made bile tickle the bottom of her throat, humiliation threatening to make its appearance.

‘Ah, how annoying.’

She’d much rather be next to one gorgeous French woman, standing alongside all her underrated castmates- these moneybags never gave their potentials a second glance, the idiots. She’d much prefer to be dancing the night away to the oddest of tunes, but enjoying each moment all the same with the rest of her new family, alongside one who had always been her family. And her home. And-... she would stop herself right there.

She hadn’t the right to claim Claudine like that. Not while she remained cowardly, concealing her affections each and every day. She shouldn’t. Not until she made the effort to be able to.

Maya sighed, downing another glass of beer. She was beginning to feel a migraine coming on. She needed a different distraction. One that hopefully did not involve her getting more drunk than she already was.

Who better a distraction than Saijou Claudine then? Beautiful, a sight for sore eyes, voice a pleasing timbre to the ears, aura radiant and warm. Maya sighed, feeling her stress melt away instantly the moment she’d placed her focus on her cherished partner. Now, if only she could call for her attention to save her, or maybe go to her and spend the rest of the night with- wait. Wait a second.

While observing Claudine intently, Maya had realized something. Maya, with all her competitive spirit, had taken note of the fact that Claudine had drunk one glass of alcohol more than Maya. How she knew this? Besides the number of empty glasses laid before the woman on a table as the troupe had currently advanced into a drinking competition, Maya had subconsciously been taking note of each time Claudine called for another drink when Maya managed to spare her a glance. And she always seemed to be taking in more and more!

Therefore, by her very sober mind’s standards, did this not mean that Claudine was trying- and actually being- superior? With the higher tolerance and capacity? Claudine was winning something! And that certainly wouldn’t do! For Maya was always the winner.

Yes! Maya now had the perfect reason to get out of this unwanted bind! She had to defend her honor! She had to maintain her winning streak! She had to best Claudine as she always did in any competition they had! It was tradition; everyone knew of their rivalry since the beginning of time. This was a valid excuse!

With not so much as a word of farewell to the blabbering buffoons she’d be leaving behind, Maya made her exit, stumbling momentarily- whoops, was that supposed to happen?- as she moved out of her seat towards where Claudine currently stood. She had left the drinking game she’d been a part of moments prior, now occupied in talking with one of the show’s directors who wasn’t the slightest bit interested in the affairs that Maya had been drowning in, it seemed. And he should have been the one to be receiving all these… those people. He made Maya his scapegoat, the damned old man.

“Tch.”

She observed for a moment as they continued chatting, one moment looking serious, then the next, laughing as if they were old time friends. Was their conversation of great significance at the moment? Maybe. Maybe Maya shouldn’t cut in. But Claudine was animatedly communicating with him, gestures and smiles and all, and something stirred within her at the thought of her best friend so close to this man. Claudine looked like she was having fun. Too much fun. So Maya thought it would be best to interrupt them. Right now.

“Ma Claudine!” She hiccuped, covering her mouth in surprise, and giggling a little ‘sorry’, very amused by the sound that had slipped from her own lips.

“Hmm?” The woman turned around before her eyes widened, moving forward just in time to catch Maya in her arms as she slumped forward. “Maya?! What are-” Her scent… though still as pleasant as always, was mixed with something Claudine didn’t quite fancy as much.

“Claudine? Oh! Claudine! Greetings, my lovely sta-”

Maya had leaned in closer to do who knows what, but Claudine was not having it. Not right now. She pushed her face away, still holding the girl up by the waist. “Maya! You’re drunk! So drunk!” She screeched, already requesting for a glass of water that the director went and fetched from a passing waiter, a glass of relief that Maya adamantly rejected, stomping her foot down with a little whine.

“No! Am not!” She slurred, giggling some more. “But maybe you are!” She poked at Claudine’s chest. “And so you won’t accept my challenge!”

“Challenge?” Claudine shook her head, not wanting to be distracted from the matter at hand. The matter in her hands being an incredibly wasted Maya. “Maya, I think you’ve had a little too much to-”

“You’ve had too much to drink? Haha, I thought so. You’re looking a little red, my dear.” Maya drawled, dragging a manicured nail along Claudine’s cheek, lightly scratching.

“No,” Claudine sighed. “I am very much sober, thank you.” She shook her head fondly. “Come on now, be a good girl for me and take this water.” She tipped the glass the director had passed her, getting Maya to drink somehow.

“I’d say thank you-” Maya exclaimed, pointing a finger into the air, still slumped against Claudine. “But times like these, I can’t be grateful to the enemy. Saijou Claudine!” She patted the said woman’s cheek, maybe a little too hard. It sounded like it would leave a mark.

“Maybe you need more water.” Claudine grit her teeth, very willing to douse Maya with a pitcher with the way she was acting at the moment.

“I challenge you-”

“Are you not listening?!”

“To a drinking contest!”

“I just told you you’ve had enough-”

“Scared?”

“Maya, if you drink any more, you’ll-”

“You’ll lose to me.” Maya grinned, evil and conniving. “Wouldn’t want that now would we? Haven’t won lately, dear Claudine.” Maya chuckled, lips leaning close to a now shaking Claudine, irritation and fury building. Maya just had to add the spark to the ready fuel. “- or at all.”

“You…. you… mechante va! ” Claudine grabbed Maya by the wrist, taking her to the drinking table, seating her opposite of herself. “I’ll make sure you eat your words. Or well… drink them bitterly. More bitter than any alcohol or your tears. Be prepared, Tendou Maya!”

“Always am, Saijou Claudine. ”

//-//-//-//-//

Ten mugs in and Maya was toeing the edge of consciousness. Or lack of it. Her mind was floaty, hazy, dull.

Still, she could not lose. Not to anyone. Especially not to Claudine. She had to always stay on her toes, and keep Claudine’s eyes on her… she’d also like it if they met her own and they’d stare into one another’s colored gems, the sunset’s rays hitting Claudine so perfectly as they had dinner by the beach, the sound of waves beating against the coast as Maya got down on one knee and- that was not important right now.

Maya had to get through one more drink. She shook irrelevant thoughts out of her head. She needed to focus. Focus.

Focus on… Claudine and her pretty pink eyes, almost identical to the flush of her face, lips parted slightly as she breathed gently over the chilled glass, droplets condensing on the outside and rolling down, and gently falling onto the waxed wood of the table.

‘ Ah… you’re just so… ‘

“Beautiful.”

“What was… that?” Claudine got out, tolerance slipping after so many rounds of drinking, including the ones from her previous match up.

“If I win this… there’s a reward, right?” Maya changed the subject, hoping Claudine was drunk enough to truly not have registered her little slip up. Now was not the time for her desires to be made known. She took in a deep breath of air while their drinks were being refilled. “There is. Right?” Violets pinned Claudine in place, daring her to say no.

“Mmph.” Claudine nodded sloppily, reaching for the full glass, bringing it closer and staring into liquid death. This little contest might just be going too far. Claudine still had work the next day. She knew this. Maya knew this too. Claudine knew that Maya knew this. And yet, here they were, probably way past midnight and into the early morning, drowned in intoxication and pride. And yet, “Whatever you want.”

Maya had never been so irresponsible in her life, to get this inebriated. She knew this was a first for Claudine as well. They were usually so careful and calculated, and just… not this pair of reckless drunkards, consuming glass after glass, staring into each other’s souls, no one willing to back down.

“Whatever… I w-want… you sh-say…” Maya drawled, tapping a finger against her cheek, looking to be in thought.

“Obvious-ugh-... obviously… within my power to give.” Claudine laid her head back against her seat, breathing heavily through her nose and huffing out strongly, hoping she wouldn’t just spill her guts right then and there.

She was going to fucking win this.

“And if you won? Whaateveeerr could Claudine Saijou even need, or want in this world?” Maya giggled, taunting. “I’ll give it to you. All of it. Even if it were to be the moon that you wanted, or a star.”

“Don’t be stupid, I’m not as unrealistic as you.” Claudine waved.

The twentieth glass glared at them through the table.

Maya could barely manage to read Claudine’s body language, but she knew the girl was at her limit. Well, she was too. Her beautiful best friend remained staring into the cup.

“Giving up?”

Claudine shot her a glare, one that sent electricity coursing all throughout Maya’s entire being. She loved it. She loved it so much. This feeling, that gaze, that Claudine. She loved her.

And all Maya wanted to do was be able to tell her without fearing rejection. Why she ever did was stupid. She knew Claudine, and Claudine knew her. They knew each other’s minds, almost as if they shared them. She knew Claudine’s kind and gentle heart. She would feel her affections, sweetness, and genuine thoughts in every action.

So why was she so hesitant?

Why did she still think that Claudine might not return her feelings?

Maybe it was because she knew she could be too egotistical and assuming; assuming that everyone loved her, and always would. Because they just did.

But Claudine wasn’t everyone.

Claudine didn’t fawn over her every gesture, or plaster her posters along her wall, or cry out for autographs, or send her billions of gifts and mails and extravagant whatevers.

Claudine just stayed by her side. Even after seeing how weak Maya truly was.

Even now, in her insecure, lowly, shameful state.

Claudine loved her.

Maybe.

Maya wasn’t brave enough to confirm that sober, so maybe this little contest reaped good benefits for her after all.

She had a chance if she won. Yes. She’d use the reward to request Claudine to go out on a date with her, then they’d go to this quaint little cafe, just like the ones Claudine loved in back in France, and Maya would get her a dress in a shop, and take her on a boat ride and-

“Maya.”

“Do you like the swan boats, or the wooden ones?”

“...huh?”

“O-oh.” Snapping out of her reverie, Maya asked Claudine to repeat her words, apologizing for being absent-minded.

“Iiit’s… it’s alright.” Claudine blinked, brow raised in question, before shaking her head in dismissal. “Anywaaay,” she sighed. “I… said I’ll sh-stop. Tch. I give in. You win.”

Claudine sounded a lot less drunk then Maya, but maybe the glass of water in her hand, as well as the lack of people around them explained that Maya had been out of it for a while. Really, Maya was so far gone from the world that she hadn’t noticed most of her troupe and guests had already headed on home. Even the bartender who had been serving them up to this point was already wiping down the far ends of the counter, preparing to close up.

She would have been concerned about all that, if not for one little detail...

“Araaaa~Ara, Shaijou-shaannn~” She grinned. “Admitting de-*hic*-feat is so unlike y- ack”

Claudine retracted the hand that had just chopped Maya on the head. “Quiet. Drink your water and let’s go home.”

“Eeehhh...”

Claudine sighed. She barely had enough of a mind to be thinking straight right now. She really should have stopped this stupid little thing sooner. She was lucky enough to notice that Maya had very much passed out seated, and she knew she was on the brink of losing her rationality as well. So she just wanted them both to get home in one piece before she lost all semblance of controlled thought. They needed to be home safe. Home separately, not together of course, not that they lived together. Not that Claudine minded , but… oh God. She was really getting there.

“You haven’t forgoootteeen about my… -eugh- ahh… reward though? Have you?” Maya managed, wiping the drool from her cheek as she asked for another glass of water.

“I’m starting... to think you’ll be the one t-to forget it very soon.” Claudine sighed, feeling her eyes begin to droop, rubbing her face with her palms. “Buuut... whatever.  Get it over with. What ish-is it that you want, insufferable woman?” She still tried to maintain her coherent speech, shamed enough for losing their little bet.

Through her exasperated tone, Maya still heard fondness and sprinkles of mirth, Claudine smiling at her gently, even if her brows were furrowed. Ever the good sport. Maya loved her like this too.

“Sooo? Hurry up? We don’t... have all the time in the world here?

Right. Maya’s reward. A response.

Drinking more of her water, she prepared her tongue to speak the necessary words.

‘I want to date you. I want to go out with you. Please go out with me. Please be my girlfriend, please be mine.’

“Maya?” Claudine was beginning to get worried as Maya just stared at her blankly.

‘I love you.’

“Oi. Tendou Maya!”

‘You’re beautiful, inspiring and amazing.’

“Maya? Ma Maya?”

‘I love you. I want to be with you. For a long long time. Please go out with me. Say it Maya. God damn, SAY IT!’

“Tendou Maya!” Claudine shook her by the shoulders, very concerned now by the lack of response, that concern quickly turned into surprised confusion as Maya blurted out her request.

“How about your hand in marriage?”

“...”

‘ What did she just…’

Claudine was in too much shock, too drunk to comprehend what the hell Maya had just asked. So just as stupidly, she replied,

“Sure whatever.”

Maya felt herself slightly sober up suddenly. Wait… didn’t she just say… and Claudine said... “Is… Is that…. Are you shue-su… sure?? Are you-”

Claudine sighed, headache coming on quick. She hoped she had aspirin in her bag. Or car. Or- ah gosh dang it, she wasn’t in the safest state to drive. “Go on ahead, you idiot.”

“But…” Maya tried to reach out for Claudine, still fairly surprised. “What about yoouur… feehlinshh-whoops.” She had stumbled forward again, Claudine catching her the same way she did earlier that night.

Just a lot less sober.

Claudine sighed, taking a sip from her water glass on the counter, hoping to keep her mind for moments longer. Downing one big gulp, she decided maybe it wasn’t so bad to be honest from time to time. Maya was a lot less sharp- scratch that. She was completely dense when it came to Claudine, it seemed. Or maybe she was pretending not to know of the blonde’s feelings for her. Whichever it was, Claudine had no better chance to tell Maya something she’d otherwise never allow the light of day to see.

The truth of her feelings. It was fine. Nothing would be amiss after this, even if Maya understood it now. Tomorrow would be a normal day. So Claudine just needed to tell her honestly, and wholeheartedly, try to make these feelings known tonight. Not that Maya would remember this in the morning. Not that Claudine wanted her to.

This water tasted funny.

But Claudine needed to confess first.

“Don’t you know I’ve…”

‘Huh? What is this… why is everything suddenly so hazy and…’

“likaefgfin you fer so”

“Whaaat was thaaat?” Maya replied a little too loud for Claudine’s eardrums to take.

She barely registered the bartender cursing under his breath, apologizing for leaving that drink on the counter fairly close to Claudine’s water. It was supposed to be his. A strong drink for him to unwind with.

“Ah, Fuck it.”

//-//-//-//-//

“I have to admit, as weird as it feels, I’m impressed.” Claudine whistled, still looking at the metal band wrapped about her finger, fitting perfectly, design simple, yet intricate- and how did that even work. A beautiful purple sapphire rested at the apex of its curve. Claudine admired it carefully. “I really am impressed. How you managed to arrange all this, drunk. Rings and all, even marriage papers.”

Claudine sorted through her memories of the day hours prior to their current afternoon meal time on Claudine’s apartment balcony, admiring the sunset that was closing in. Fragments of images of them walking up to an empty church with Maya shaking down a priest to marry them haunted her recall.

Claudine wasn't all that religious, but Dear Lord, forgive them both.

Claudine felt the intensity of second-hand embarrassment wash over her. Really. What had they been doing at six a.m.?

Right. They had been busy trying to get married.

They even sat in front of the supreme court, waiting for it to open come eight-thirty in the morning. How Maya convinced people there to get them to do the procedures that fast was a mystery in and of itself, but in barely two hours, they were walking onto the street, hand-in-hand, somehow still barely conscious and far from sober enough, with the sun blaring in their eyes, sleep-deprived, and now officially married.

“I still can’t believe your crazy amounts of luck, to have come across a travelling trader. And these rings…” Claudine stroked them gently. “Exotic and from a different country, huh…” She murmured. “Hope they aren’t fake.”

Maya choked on the tea she had been sipping, tongue burnt suddenly. “I-I’ll have you know I have a good eye for these kinds of things.”

Claudine merely hummed again, stirring Maya’s anxiousness up even worse. Maya thumbed the onyx on her own wedding ring, biting her lip nervously, a question on the tip of her tongue escaping after being held back since they’d regained consciousness.

“Do you mind it? Being married to me?” She whispered, hopefully loud enough for Claudine to hear. Or not in case she had an unfavorable answer for Maya that she didn’t know if she wanted to hear. “Does it bother you?”

Claudine’s eyes lifted up, a sparkle in them, and a few shadows swirling about. Maya read it as doubt, but with a conviction. Claudine had something planned. What it was waslost on Maya, but clearly she was about to say something important-

“I mean, I love you. So I hardly mind this arrangement, out of order as it is.” Claudine laughed. “And I’m fairly sure you feel the same way, considering you were the one to propose this. Quite literally propose. So,” She tried her best to offer a reassuring smile, finally looking Maya’s way to meet her eyes and tell her what they both thought about this- “Maya?”

The sight that greeted her was a flabbergasted Tendou Maya, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“I… you… I- you- me, l-l”

Claudine blinked, taking Maya’s image all in. Before she broke,

“...pfft- Ahahahaha, you should see your face, Tendou Maya! You look like you can’t believe what I just said!”

“I… I-”

“If you say you actually can’t believe it, I’ll be incredibly heartbroken, you know?” Claudine wiped tears from her eyes; she propped her arm on the table, chin resting on an open palm. “I’d cry a river.” She giggled, but they both knew there was a truth to her words.

Maya was still at a loss. And Claudine was only teasing her more and more. It was frustrating that Maya couldn’t even manage a word out, she couldn’t even tease her back to regain the upper hand-

Wait… didn’t this mean…

“Oh my god.”

“Hmm?” Claudine cocked a brow. “Are you praying or something?”

“You’ve won.”

“Eh?”

“You’ve actually won.”

“Won? Won what, exactly?” Clearly, this victory wasn’t registering in Claudine’s mind, as she still gazed upon Maya tenderly, a soft blush on her face as she lovingly made fun of the girl. Her smile was of a maiden in love, happy and satisfied, and Maya…

“Or am I the one whose won?” A winner to be married to the most wonderful person in the world- unintentional as it was. Maya knew she’d do it all over again. Intentionally, this time.

“If you’re talking about winning me over, then isn’t it a little too late to realize it now, Tendou Maya?” She chuckled, taking a sip of her tea.

Maya blinked. “Maybe.”

“Eh? Not that?”

“But maybe you can take that as your first victory.” Maya’s usual flirtatious smile had returned, but there was a sincerity to it that made Claudine’s heart flutter in her chest, Maya’s eyes so warm adding to the butterflies within her.

“A-and what… what “reward” do I gain from all of this?” She stuttered, suddenly unable to keep her eyes locked with Maya’s.

“My, what a silly question, Ma Claudine.” Maya reached a hand over, taking Claudine’s ringed one in her own. “For haven’t you already won me?”

“...you really are infuriating.”

“Infuriatingly charming?”

“I should not be as calm and accepting as I am in-and-of this situation. I just got proposed to and married in the span of so few hours.” Claudine shook her head, almost in disbelief. Almost. There were too many things grounding her in this reality, proving to her that she indeed was bonded to Maya in sickness and in health.

“That wasn’t a no, and don’t change the subject like that.” Maya laughed, standing up from her seat and walking around the table, standing behind Claudine for a while, unsure if she should proceed with her actions.

“Quit being weird and standing behind me like a stalker. Just hug me if that’s what you were planning on doing. You already did it before all this, what’s stopping you now?”

“Th-things are different this time, clearly I’d be a little nervous!.”

“Wuss.” Claudine teased, but her heart was beating way too loudly in her chest.

“Ever the sharp tongue.” Maya sighed fondly, wrapping her arms around Claudine from behind, kissing her on the temple.

“You like it.”

“I do, Mrs. Tendou.”

“Hmm? Are you still drunk? You got a little confused there, Tendou Maya.” Claudine chuckled, a hand reaching for Maya’s left and kissing the back of it, before kissing the ring.

“Not at all? Are you forgetting something? Tendou Claudine?”

“Ten- ah…” Claudine’s face burst into flames, the realization finally sinking in. That she was actually married to the person she loved for so long. So unconventionally too. She would have been consumed by these emotions, but then again, there was something wrong about that statement that stirred up her competitive nature. “Why do I take your name?”

“Well, obviously, I-”

“Saijou Maya.”

Both their brows twitched.

“Yes, that just…”

“Doesn’t sound quite right.”

“Tendou Claudine does not work for me either.” Claudine huffed.

“Alright, alright.” Maya laughed. “Mrs. Saijou, would that work for you?”

Claudine turned to give her a bright smile, actually liking how that sounded. “Yes, it would, Mrs. Tendou.”

Staring into one another’s eyes, they felt that familiar magnetic pull they always seemed to have between them, drawing them ever closer. They had always tried to fight against it before, afraid of what the next moment would bring, but now… there was none of that fear. Only reassurance and love.

“May I kiss you, Saijou Claudine?” Maya whispered, softly against Claudine’s lips that were now barely touching her own, breaths mingling and warm.

“You’ve already married me. So why not?”

Soft and teasing, chasing and embracing, their first kiss was all sorts of wonder, and colorful in every way. Their first kiss, and it had happened after they had gotten married.

It truly was out of order, the way they did things. Odd and different, just as everyday was when they were together. Never dull, never getting old. Always something new and changing. Never ordinary. But really, when were they ever the ordinary pair, Maya and Claudine?

Pulling away, Maya laughed. Laughed so hard tears spilled from her eyes until her laughter turned to chuckles, and into sobs, all of joy.

“I love you.”

Claudine felt herself tear up as well, getting up from her seat to hug Maya in full, both of them holding onto one another, neither willing to let go. Whispered reassurances and small kisses brought them down from their emotional high, calming them both as they swayed about in a slow dance on the terrace. They shared words, not really meaning anything at the moment. A few jokes, a few feelings, a little love.

It truly was a wonder how perfect everything fit, and felt. Like it was all natural, the pair so easily getting used to this new lifestyle as sudden as it was.

The stars shone overhead as night fell upon the dancers, the cool breeze wrapping them in its refreshing embrace. Nature provided them their music to a well-practiced dance that only they knew, and Maya had never felt more content in a moment than now. Truly, it was a perfect end to their perfect wedding day. But something seemed to be missing...

“Honeymoon?”

“...”

“Not here, obviously. Bahamas?”

“...”

“Claudine?”

Face heated and hidden in Maya’s neck, Claudine mumbled, “You truly have no shame…” She groaned, but added, “...Only if you’re paying.”.

Maybe some things needed the normal getting used to, after all.

Notes:

A/N: Might make a part 2 if I feel like it. This one was fun! ~Shintori Khazumi

#mayakuro #starira #revue starlight #shoujo kageki revue starlight #fanfic #tendou maya #saijou claudine

[pinapple-qween]

Too Good to be True

Relationship: Batfam x Reader, Tim Drake x Reader

Summary: hey, i saw that you take requests and thought could you maybe (only when you feel like it, no pressure or something) write something sad where reader is good friends with the Batkids maybe is in tims age (and in love with him) but one day she is not with them anymore like she lost her scholarship on Gotham Academy but didn’t tell anybody because she doesn’t want to bother them because they always habe their batstuff to do ?

Key: Y/N= your name, L/N= your last name, italics= phone text

---------------------------------------------------

“Tim, hey!” You adjusted the backpack on your back and ran across the quad to your best friend Tim Drake. 

“Y/N, what’s up?”

“I need your help,” you watched as Tim began to groan. “Before you ‘uughh’ you promised you’d help me with your super research skills for my super boring research paper.”

“Oh yeah, I did.” You watched as Tim’s face fell and you knew right away he was going to come up with an excuse. “I would love to-”

“But,” you interrupted, “you have to ‘work’ with your family tonight. Again.” You shook your head and laughed to yourself. It wasn’t unusual for Tim to have to excuse himself from hanging out with you to be with his family. Well, you knew what he did at night.

“I’m really, really sorry. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” Tim wrapped his arm around you and gave you a side hug. The touch made your heart flutter, but you forced yourself to not react.

“Yeah, yeah,” you pulled away and started backwards walking in front of him, “how about you buy me lunch and we’ll see if that fixes things.”

Tim chuckled, “Okay, but Damian’s gonna be joining us.”

“Yes! Damian is hilarious!”

“Damian would kill you if you said that to his face.”

You sat at your desk after school and stared at a blank computer screen. The cursor flashed, awaiting your words, and all you could do was spin your pen in your fingers. You sighed and closed out the window. Maybe if you took a break, you’d come back with fresh eyes.

You pulled up Twitter and scrolled through your feed. It wasn’t all too exciting, but then you pulled up the “Batman” tag and scrolled through its recent posts.

Just saw Red Robin on Killer Croc’s back riding him like a bull #onlyingotham #batman

You laughed at the image of Tim being bucked around on Croc’s back that formed in your head. You saw a couple similar posts and then some talking about spotting Dick and Damian before you closed out the tab.

It wasn’t that you were jealous of Tim, you thought it was amazing that he was a superhero, but it was frustrating that he never had time to hang out with you anymore. You used to go over to Wayne Manor every day after school to do homework with Tim and you loved it. Wayne Manor was always full of life with all of his brother. All of whom had taken to you and basically claimed you as a sister. Recently, however, Tim and his brothers were busier than ever and he didn’t tell you why, beyond “Bat things”. 

You pulled up your blank research report and began to write.

“Miss L/N, I need you to stay after class.” Your teacher caught you just before you left the classroom. You groan internally and turned around to face him.

“Yes, Mr. Toffer?” 

He gestured to the desk in front of his and you sat across from him. After you sat down, he handed you your paper. 

“A ‘C’?” You couldn’t believe it. 

“Yes Miss L/N, a ‘C’. I’m sorry to tell you this, but you are in danger of losing your scholarship. If you keep slipping in my class, the board will have no choice but to pull it.” He said it all so matter of fact-ly, but his eyes gave him away. You saw the sadness and the slight regret as he told you about this.

“Is-is there anything I can do? Could I rewrite this paper? Or do extra credit?”

“You know my extra credit policy. It would be disingenuous to the other students I have to give you what I don’t extend to them.” You could feel the disappointment burrow onto your face. “All I can say is you need to study hard for the upcoming final and if you get anything less than a 90%, your scholarship will be revoked.” 

You walked out that room dazed. You couldn’t believe you were in danger of losing your scholarship. Your mom was so proud of you for getting into Gotham Academy, especially on academic scholarship. You couldn’t bare to think about telling her you might lose it.

While mulling this over, you literally ran into Tim. “Woah there! Y/N, you good?”

“Uh, yeah. Just a little distracted,” you put on a smile and looked up at Tim. “Homework party tonight?”

“I’d love to, but...”

You sighed, “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

“Oh yeah, by the way, Dick wants to know if you still had his CD player. He needs it for sometime that I wasn’t paying attention to.”

You perked up, “I can bring it over sometime this week?”

“Nah, if you just bring it here, I’ll take it home after school.” He obviously didn’t see how much that hurt to hear, but you just nodded and the two of you walked the halls till you got to your next class.

One last night before your test and studying was getting you nowhere. You couldn’t focus. You were so afraid of failing this test, of losing your scholarship, and the fact that you seemed to be losing Tim. You looked at you phone and thought about texting him, even though you knew fully well that he was on patrol.

Hey, Tim. We good?

You sent it with no expectation of a response, but you needed to get at least one thing off your chest tonight. You set down your phone and looked back at your textbook, hoping to actually retain some information. You barely read one paragraph before you saw your phone light up.

Yeah! Why? Is something up?

You were shocked to see it was from Tim. You were so unprepared to get a response you didn’t know how to respond.

No! Nothing. Just wondering if Damian knew I called him hilarious and was getting back at me through keeping you busy.

You knew that wasn’t the truth, but you couldn’t tell him that it was because you thought he didn’t like you anymore. That you thought his family didn’t want to see you again.

Haha, no Damian still likes you, which is an amazing feat

I gotta go, Joker ou t, t al k l8r

And with that you knew he was gone. You turned back to your textbook, but you knew there was no way you’d be able to focus.

The next time you looked at your phone, it was 6 am and you hadn’t slept all night.

The next week flew by. Tim started ditching you at school, not just after. That made it easier when you got a 88% on your final and you had to meet with the board about your scholarship. They confirmed what Mr. Toffer had told you and revoked your scholarship. They politely informed you that you would not be returning the next semester.

You couldn’t face any of your friends. You closed yourself off, started finding all kinds of ways to avoid Tim and Damian, and waited out the end of the semester. 

As you walked out on your last day, you decided to pretend Gotham Academy was a dream. A wonderful dream. You walked away, ready to forget Tim and your feelings. You knew it all had to be too good to be true.

---------------------------------------------------

The winter break came and went. Tim walked into the Gotham Academy quad, Damian hot on his heels.

“Drake! You have yet to tell me why Y/N didn’t come over during our break.” Damian demanded as he finally caught up. 

Tim didn’t want to respond, mostly because he didn’t even know. He waited all break to get a message from you, but it never came. It didn’t help the Mr. Freeze was incredibly problematic for most of the break and Tim was a little too distracted.

“She was probably busy Damian. Don’t worry, you’ll see her today I’m sure.”

“It’s already been ten minutes past eight, she’s never this late.”

Damian was right, Y/N was never late to meet them. “Damian, please. I have to get to homeroom. I’ll text you the moment I see her okay?” Tim looked Damian in the eyes as he said this, to reassure him that he was being honest.

“Tt-tt, okay. I will see you at lunch.” Damian walked off towards his class.

Tim nodded, then his head shot up after, “Wait what.”

The end of the school day came and went. Tim never saw you once. Damian approached him as they waited for Alfred to pick them up. Tim was grateful for the 31 seconds of peace before Damian spoke.

“You never saw Y/N today, did you?”

It wasn’t accusatory. Damian actually sounded...sad. Tim didn’t know how to react at first. He opened his mouth and closed it a couple times, looking for the words. Eventually, he just said, “No.”

Damian looked up at him. “Will you text her?”

Tim looked into the boy’s sad eyes, an unusual sight, and sighed while pulling out his phone.

Hey Y/N, you good? Didn’t see you at school today

Tim didn’t have to wait long until his phone buzzed.

We’re sorry but the number you are trying to reach has been disconnected or is no longer in service.

Tim stared at his phone dumbfounded.

Damian cut through his daze with his voice, “Well? Anything?”

Just then, Alfred pulled up, waiting for the two boys get in. “Uh, no. Don’t worry about it.”

When Tim got back to his room, he tried various ways to get in contact with Y/N. Everything failed. Eventually he gave up on conventional means and started using his hacking skills.

“...no”

The first thing he found was the removal of her scholarship eligibility. The next was her enrollment in the Gotham public school system. 

“God, no.” 

When did this happen? Why did this happen?

Why didn’t he ever reach out to you?

#Tim Drake #tim drake x reader #tim drake imagine #BatFam #batfam fic #Damian Wayne #damian wayne imagine #batfam imagine #batman fic

[angrylizardjacket]

the band with no name {Douglas Booth} Part 3

A/N: 3050 words. Is this good? i genuinely don’t know.

[PART 2]

----

“I’m not getting a tattoo,” Douglas tells Colson flatly on Friday, still using his Nikki accent, arms crossed in between takes. They’re milling around on the Starwood set for the band’s first gig, and Douglas is in a pair of bright red, plastic boots with a considerable heel, that come all the way up his thighs, and pinch his toes. He’s already in a mood, he doesn’t need Colson’s shit-eating grin.

“I never said -” Colson tries, but he’s still grinning, can’t help himself.

“You implied,” Douglas frowns, shifting his weight on his feet. It didn’t help, “I’m not just going to show up where she works and pretend like I’m going to be a customer, that’s- it’s disingenuous, man,” the English accent slips out a little, but he corrects himself quickly, “and it’s stalking.”

“It’s not stalking -”

“It is if I’m not going to actually get a tattoo,” Douglas raises his eyebrows, watching as Colson spins idly on his drum stool.

“Fine, I’ll get a tattoo, and you can come for moral support or whatever,” he shrugs.

“Still kind of sounds like stalking,” Daniel adds from the edge of the stage, where he’s patiently sitting while a makeup assistant applies fake blood to his cheek. Beside her stands Jonah, the production assistant, diligently holding the bottle cap full of red liquid she was working from. They share a quietly amused look before Jonah glances at Colson, and the woman goes back to work.

“He’s not wrong,” Jonah agrees, and Colson throws his head back with an exasperated groan.

“And Corey said he’d personally skin you if you got any tattoos during filming,” the makeup assistant reminded him. Colson swore under his breath, scowling at the memory, but conceding defeat.

“When’s her gig?” Iwan asked from where he’d been sitting on his amp, texting and drinking water.

“Saturday,” Douglas said with an immediate smile. Thankfully no-one was looking at him enough to call him on it.

“Where?” Daniel asks, a hint of mischief in his voice.

“Around,” Douglas answered evasively, expression souring almost immediately.

“Is that a club, or...?” Colson asks, trying to be discrete where he was pulling out his phone. Douglas kind of regrets roping any of them into this.

“Where she’s playing doesn’t matter, because none of you are going, okay?”

“Come on, man, don’t you trust us?” Said by Colson, trying his best to pull off puppy-dog eyes in his Tommy Lee costume and hair, is the absolute last thing that would help Doulgas trust him, or any of them.

“Absolutely not,” though he’s smiling a little at their antics.

“You’re the one who wanted our help,” Daniel throws over his shoulder, and the makeup assistant tells him to stay still.

“You assholes couldn’t keep your noses in your own business; I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“They’re playing Casa Cristo at ten tomorrow night,” Colson announces, blatantly ignoring Douglas, whose whole expression has scrunched into something sour by the time Colson looks back up. He holds out his phone, showing off a photo of your band with the date and time superimposed over it, “it’s on their story.” He says by way of explanation.

“How far away is that?” Iwan asks, and the makeup assistant pauses, and looks to Jonah.

“Fifteen minute drive?” She asks, and they confirm with a nod. Douglas’ dawning horror is kind of funny to watch.

“Have a little bit of faith in us,” Iwan said, with as much of an apologetic smile as he could manage. 

“You,” Douglas looked to him, “I have mild faith in; you’re not the one I’m worried about.” At that, both Daniel and Colson make noises of outrage at the implication. 

“I’ve been helping you!” Colson exclaimed, betrayed, and Douglas gave him a sidelong glance.

“And honestly, you were doing great at it until you suggested I should find out where she works and get a whole tattoo just to spend time with her.”

“I never suggested -!”

“You implied!”

During the entire car ride to your gig the following day, Douglas strongly contemplates sending you an apology in advance. Literally everyone in the car, including Jonah, who was driving, and the makeup assistant, Ally, who’d tagged along because she’d become invested after they’d filled her in on the fake-band deal, tells him it’s a bad idea.

“We’ll be fine, there’s nothing to apologise for, we’re not gonna helicopter parent,” Colson teased, trying to pinch at Douglas’ cheek, though he slapped him away.

“That kind of shit is exactly what I’m afraid of,” Douglas warned him, pointing a stern finger at him.

“We’ll hold him back,” Daniel says with a half smile; he’s been trying to act less nosy and more trustworthy since yesterday, apparently taking Douglas’ words to heart.

“We’ll try,” Iwan grins, as if momentarily possessed by the spirit of Mick Mars, about to watch his bandmates cause havoc and do very little to stop it. Why was Daniel the one Douglas had been worried about again?

 Anyways, nosy bastards the lot of them.

Casa Cristo is already thumping with music by the time they all arrive, fashionably late at ten thirty, all still sporting the remnants of their makeup after filming had wrapped for the day. 

When they walk in, AC/DC’s You Shook Me All Night Long is just beginning, and you’re on stage, backlit by the LED parcans you’d brought to add a little something extra to the performance, sculling a pint of water like your life depended on it while the other two thirds of your band’s trio played through the opening of the song.

“She was a fast machine, she kept her motor clean; she was the best damn woman that I’ve ever seen,” you leaned into your microphone with a sharp smile as you looked out at the crowd and the dancefloor. 

Like always, you’re a sight to behold, in black ripped jeans this time, and a shirt that was more hole than fabric, showing off your fancy bra beneath. There’s what looks to be a leather jacket in a heap beside your bass amp, and you’re rocking in time with the beat as you play your bass. 

“That her?” Ally asks over the music; everyone nods in confirmation, “she’s hot as hell; you’ve got good taste.” Douglas can’t help his smile as he moves to the bar to order a drink. The song leads into I Was Made For Loving You by KISS, and then Cum On Feel The Noize, after which the set came to an end, and you promised to be back. The guitarist stops you before you head into the crowd, and the two of you talk in low voices for a moment before he points directly at the gaggle of actors sitting to the back of the room. 

Your expression lights up when you spot them. Douglas pretends his heart doesn’t leap at the sight. Jonah head to the courtyard to smoke, joined by Daniel and Iwan, while Ally had headed to the bar, leaving, thankfully, only Douglas and Colson.

You head to the bar first to get a drink, but once you have, you make a beeline for them.

“The band with no name, back again; I don’t know if I should feel flattered or threatened,” you grin, bright and sincere as you say it, joining them at the table they’d commandeered. You’re a little sweaty from rocking out, shining and a little ethereal in the dim club lights.

“We’re scoping out the competition,” Colson grins, titling his glass to you to cheers, which you comply with happily.

“I think that means we have to play some Crue to show you how it’s done,” you answer in kind, shifting your weight on your feet, turning to face Douglas, “how about it? Think I could show you a thing or two?” 

“I’d say it’s a good thing Nikki Sixx was busy if it means I get to learn a thing or two from you instead,” Douglas hears himself say, and for a single instant, he’s terrified he’s blown his cover. Your mouth falls open in flustered shock, and your eyes go wide, something pleased amid the surprise in your expression. Colson is holding very still in an effort to not draw attention to himself.

Suddenly, you duck your head, muttering that he’s far too kind, unable to look him in the eye. When you finally do manage to regain your composure, you ask if he wants anything to drink, gesturing to his mostly empty cup.

“It’s fine, I can -” he tries to save you the trouble, but you insist that it’s no trouble.

“You can buy me one later,” and okay there’s absolutely no way to miss the flirty tone of your voice. Douglas really hopes the lights are hiding his slight flush, because he knows they’re absolutely not hiding his own pleased grin.

As you head to the bar, Colson lets out the breath he’d aparently been holding, eyes wide and grin wider as he looks at Douglas.

“What?” Douglas snaps, still feeling the heat in his cheeks.

“That was smooth as hell, my dude,” Colson tells him sincerely, and Douglas lets himself be a little smug.

“You know I do know how to chat up a girl, right?” He asks, and Colson raises his hands in mock surrender.

“Never said you couldn’t.”

“Just took me a bit to figure out Y/N; I’m not bad at it when I kind of know who I’m talking to.”

“Not bad a it?! Fuck, man, that was a bullseye; she’s literally buying you a drink -”

“Who?” Daniel asked, rejoining the group, alongside Ally, who was nursing an espresso martini. 

“Turns out Doug’s actually got some game,” Colson smirked, though Douglas just rolled his eyes. 

“Of course he has,” Daniel said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “look at his face; that jawline’s got more game than half the guys in here.” 

“And the eyeliner,” Ally added with an appreciative nod, which Daniel agreed with easily. At least they were being supportive. By the time you come back, Ally’s trying to reapply eyeliner to Daniel’s waterline and he’s concerned that she won’t be able to see what she’s doing in the dim light and will poke him in the eye.

“I’ll poke you in the eye on purpose, stop moving!” She yelled, his chin held tight between her fingers. You placed the drink down in front of Douglas, slotting easily into the space beside him, agonizingly close, almost touching him but not quite. You watch with confused amusement fore a few moments before Ally finishes up with a flourish; she seems surprised to see you there, and does a double take.

“Y/N,” you offer with a smile, holding out your hand, “are you the one responsible for their eyeliner? Because I must say, I definitely appreciate it,” you grin sharply. Ally shakes your hand after capping her eyeliner and shoving it back in her pocket.

“Ally, and yes, I’m the band’s stylist,” she lies easily, and your eyebrows raise.

“That first gig’s going to be something spectacular if they already have a stylist,” you muse.

“We have a name now too,” Daniel adds, blinking rapidly, trying to clear the tears from his eyes from where they’d been watering from the makeup. You make a noise of intrigue, and Douglas buries his face in his free hand, “The Fourskins.” 

“The Fourskins.” You say tentatively, as if trying to hold back laughter, leaning in just enough that your shoulder was touching Douglas’s. 

“Because there’s four of us and we play without shirts,” Colson adds, and Douglas chokes on his drink momentarily. If you ever end up watching The Dirt, you’re probably going to end up throttling them all for thinking that this was at all subtle. 

As it stands, however, you just nod, and turn the name over in your mind, finally declaring that it works. It’s not long before Iwan and Jonah come back with your drummer in tow, and as soon as your saying hello to the other two, you’re being called back on stage.

“This next one’s for you guys!” You called over your shoulder with a grin as you’re slipping through the crowd towards the stage. The six at the table all chattered amongst themselves, trying to guess which song you’d play; Kickstart My Heart, Take Me To The Top, and Live Wire were all pretty far at the top of the list. After a brief chat with your band, however, you’d turned your bass back on and leaned into the microphone, giving a very distinctive laugh.

And you start to play She Goes Down.

“I think I love her,” Colson snorted, a sentiment which was echoed by both Iwan and Ally, while Douglas tried to keep his composure, which was a struggle with what your voice was doing and how your body was moving to the almost syrupy bass line. 

“Flat on my back she goes down,” your eyes flutter close at the bridge, practically making love to the song with your voice going low and seductive, “for backstage pass, she goes down. With all of my friends, she goes down. She gives heart attack, she goes,” you croon, your eyes opening as a grin spreads across your lips and you slam into the final chorus.

The idea that Motley Crue wrote so much about sex had never exactly registered for Douglas, it was just kind of the done thing back in the hair metal scene. It seems like a good majority of songs were either about sex or drugs or both, and but hearing the recording, he’d never been fully aware of the suggestive power of the songs until this moment. Maybe it’s the difference between knowing Nikki Sixx now in 2018, and hearing and seeing you in 2018 sing it live that makes all the difference.

Because he’s trying desperately to commit your entire performance of the song to memory.

“Nikki and Tommy would fucking love this,” Colson adds, to almost universal agreement as the next song began.

The night is joyful and exuberant, and much to Douglas’s surprise, you seem to be spending most of your time between sets with him and the other actors, though judging by the other’s reactions, he shouldn’t be so surprised.

“She’s into you,” Ally told him bluntly, the two of them together at the bar while the others were outside in the cool night air. She spoke to him as if speaking to an idiot, which he resented, ��why are you surprised she wants to spend time with you?”

“I’m just...” and he sighed deeply, “I’m just worried that me or one of the guys is going to slip up somehow, and she’ll only want to be around me because of the movie.”

“I don’t think she’s like that,” Ally said softly, patting him on the shoulder.

“And I don’t know her well enough to be able to agree,” Douglas admitted; for all that he liked you, he still wasn’t quite able to discern how you’d react to him playing Nikki Sixx in the band’s upcoming biopic. He didn’t even want to bring up the film for fear of you connecting the dots.

“Then get to know her,” she suggests, as if it’s that easy. 

Somehow, having confirmation from Ally that you were into him was easier to believe than from the guys. 

After you’ve played your final song for the night and said your goodbyes to the crowd, as the crowd’s chatter grows louder, though some are already moving on to a new venue. You coil leads and haul amps around with the speed and efficiency of someone twice your age, so focused that it’s almost mesmerizing. 

The rest of the cast is making plans to move on, but as you’re taking the last of your things out to the station wagon outside, he knows the only way he’ll be able to see you again without being chaperoned by one of his nosy friends is by asking you out. 

You’re out by the car, guitar case in one hand, holding the passenger door open with the other, talking about something with the drummer who was waiting in the driver’s seat. Then you spot him through the glass of the pub doors, watching with hesitation, and you smile at him warmly. You stow your guitar case in the back seat of the car, amid milk crates of leads and microphone stands, and make your way to the door.

As Douglas steps outside, he hears the drummer call ‘I’m leaving in five, with or without you’ but you ignore him.

“Great show, as always,” Douglas smiles, letting the door close behind himself, giving the two of you a modicum of privacy.

“But you’ve only seen us perform twice,” you say with slight hesitation.

“And you’ve been consistently good,” he points out, and you’re grinning again, all bashful and pleased, contrasting your fuck off attire, “can I ask when you’re free this week?”

“You certainly can,” you rock back on your heels, eyes shining, “it’s what I came over here to ask you, actually.”

“My uh, my day job’s kind of weirdly scheduled, so it’d probably be easier for me to work around you,” he admitted, and your eyebrow rose, intrigued.

“Day job?”

“It’s complicated,” and thankfully you didn’t pry.

“Well, my band rehearses Tuesday and Thursday, but I’m free during the week after five thirty; do you wanna grab dinner some time?” You asked, hopeful. Douglas’s lips curved into a smile and he nodded.

“I’ll check my schedule tonight and talk to you tomorrow, how about that?”

“Sounds like a date!” You enthuse, and make a step towards the car, but Douglas can’t help himself.

“I enjoyed She Goes Down, by the way,” he says, and when you turn around your smile is sharp as knives as mischief twinkles in your eyes.

“Oh, I’m sure you did, and I’m sure you will,” you wink at him, “we’ll see how the date goes.”

He watches you leave, his whole face amusingly red as he tries not to dwell on your implications, and he realises that you may very well be the death of him. Not that he’s complaining.

#Douglas Booth #douglas booth imagine #douglas booth x reader #mgk #colson baker #machine gun kelly #iwan rheon #daniel webber #the dirt #the dirt cast #the dirt cast imagine #the angry lizard writes

[redscharms]

Can I ask about BTS jungkook soulmate and love life??

BTS Tarot reading

Jeon Jung-kook Soulmate reading

Thank you everyone who submitted a request for Jungkook reading for being patient with me. There were a few of those from anonymous users and I didn’t include all of your messages here but please know I went through all of your messages and saw each one you sent me. This was a slightly difficult reading to go through.

So far this was the hardest reading I had to do

Every time the pattern is repeated

The oracle cards were pulled in this order:

Recreation, Caution, Heartbreak

And I pulled the Death card once again at the end of the reading

I really hate what I see and it makes me sick to my stomach

I did this reading few times and unfortunately this story doesn’t seem to have a happy ending no matter how much I try to fool the cards and redo the reading

I really hate the idea that I have to put this out there but if I omit certain parts it will be disingenuous

First of all I want to say that with the new decks I finally understand why that Death card was so ominous and why I can’t shake off this awful feeling that I never get from this card

Now I highly doubt that this card signifies actual death even though I still get a stomachache looking at it

But more an end to a karmic relationship

Unfortunately it will end up with a heartbreak for one of the two and looking at how the cards are presented I lean strongly towards Jungkook being the one who ends up with a broken heart

But the sad part is that I can’t even blame the other person because the cards don’t present them as someone deceitful or someone who would intentionally hurt him

It seems that Jungkook would grow attached to them despite them setting up boundaries from the very start

This person is the one who’ll help him heal and find emotional balance, work on some issues that he has and help create beautiful memories

However they’ll be also the one who will unintentionally break his heart

So their presence is necessary for healing and patching up some emotional issues but unfortunately not all of them

The story repeats itself in every reading

The Four of Stones and the Storyteller make me think of this person entering his life almost out of nowhere and bringing light and something that Jungkook was seeking for a long time

They’ll look to him as a treasure that he accidentally stumbled upon, a miracle that helps him dive deep into his emotions and unpack all that emotional baggage that he carries through his life

This person is very strong, independent and charismatic but most importantly they have a very strong personality and are emotionally mature

They live their life how they see fit, they don’t step back when they face challenges and they know what they want and even when they don’t know how they’ll get it they won’t give up

They’re the type who live by the rule ‘wherever the wind takes’ but still holding onto a map and a plan

It’s their strong personality and courage that attracts him

(Now that I think about it’s that carelessness why they shouldn’t stay for too long in his life because at some point it might become a little too dangerous for him)

They’re also the ‘they are not good for you’ type but for that short lasting period of time they’ll be exactly what Jungkook needs to loosen up a bit and have a chance for self reflection and inner work

But with the Three of Swords it seems that it’s his feelings and him revealing them is what will start the end of this relationship

Looking at the Six of Mirrors it feels like the confession will happen during one of those moments that create memories for life

Something that gets the blood pumping and the adrenaline running through the veins

And seeing how the Five of Wands follows and bow this card signifies unsatisfied desires and struggle, it makes me think of a very immediate and univocal response

And with the Strength and the Knight of Swords cards it seems that this subject will be brought up again afterwards and with the Eight of Swords and the Death cards that follow it looks like this will finally be what ends this relationship

The Death card is followed by the Ten of Wands

The number Ten signifies completion of a cycle

And the card itself signifies resolution of a problem

And it seems that in this case is one of them walking away

It’s honestly sad to see how much this will affect one of them because karmic relationships are a very important part of our lives and we all go through them

Not everyone is bound to stay with us throughout our life

And it seems that it’s best that this person will be present for only a brief period of time in Jungkook’s life but he or maybe it’s the other person have some emotional issues that won’t let him let go of that connection so easily

P.s. I pulled two more cards asking to see how each will see the relationship

For Jungkook I got the Seven of Pentacles and the meaning of the card is ‘Testing one’s strength’

For the other person I pulled the Knight of Pentacles and the meaning of that card is ‘Stability’

I believe this soulmate connection is not the last one and given how young Jungkook is, he’ll have plenty of opportunities to find someone who’ll be there for him and with whom he’ll form mutual trust and love. It seems that the near future has some challenges in store for him but we all go through them and we learn and evolve as individuals.

#bts tarot #reading requests #tarot readings #bts jungkook #jungkook #bts reading #k pop tarot #k pop reading #tarot requests #bts

[fanficfeeling]

Lovely - Jaskier x Reader

A/N: Hey everyone! This is my first attempt at a fanfic in quite a few years, because for whatever reason, 2020 has brought with it a whole lot of inspiration, and I’m so excited to write again! I also recently binged The Witcher, and I’m crushing big time on Jaskier, so that felt like a good place to start! I’m very rusty, so I would appreciate feedback, but please be gentle on this returning writer. I’m so proud of how this piece went after not writing for about three years, I may even make a part 2 to this, so I hope you enjoy it!

Y/N is finally beginning to make a good living doing odd jobs in her hometown when she meets Geralt of Rivia. He shows up to deal with some odd beast in the woods nearby, and Y/N is happy to offer her assisting services to the Witcher, who eventually can't ignore her offer anymore when he realizes he needs the assistance of someone who knows the area better than he does. Y/N assists him with little fuss, because it's what she does, and maybe, just maybe, the townspeople will toss her a coin too for helping him when all is done (turns out, they never do). When it seems that he actually doesn't mind her presence or her help, she asks to come with him when he leaves her small corner of the world, because maybe she can make an even better living going where he goes, since it seems all he does is follow trouble. Oddly enough, he agrees to the arrangement.

They quickly became an excellent silent tag team of sorts. He goes to the newest monster, and Y/N follows him to wherever they reign devastation, to offer any help she can to those in need, temporarily. He gets the coin for his end, she gets the coin for hers,  and they pool it, making more than enough coin for them both, and somehow helping people along the way.

Y/N's new life is good, at the end of the day, with good money, fulfilling work, and decent company to fill her days, and this peace goes undisturbed for quite a good while. That is, until Jaskier catches up with Geralt.

The pair stopped at an inn after moving on from their last area in need, and, as per usual, they ordered their drinks and sat in a corner in near total silence, enjoying some peace and quiet after witnessing a whole lot of suffering.

"Geralt! So wonderful to see you, I've really been looking for you everywhere, I have a request to make of my dear friend." The brunette bard slides onto the seat next to Geralt, and the Witcher grunts in protest.

"Jaskier."

The bard appears to mock offense, "How lovely to see you too, Geralt! And here I was hoping you'd been missing me-" He trails off as he lays his eyes on the lady sitting across from him, and his mouth drops open in awe quickly. The lady shifts uncomfortably as he stares, and her eyes quickly shift to her travelling companion.

"Geralt, do you... know this man?"

The Witcher grunts once again uncomfortably, "Unfortunately."

Jaskier speaks once again, never able to keep his mouth shut for long, "C'mon, Geralt aren't you going to introduce us? Me, your best friend in the world and this stunning woman who I can only hope is also just your friend and also not insane like your taste in women usually implies?"

Geralt stares at him blankly, hoping on everything holy the bard would move on and not try to "woo" his new partner in crime, but he knew that was highly unlikely, so he settled on giving him this; "Y/N, this is Jaskier, not my friend. Jaskier, Y/N, my travelling companion."

Jaskier decided quickly enough that that mediocre introduction would suffice, and took it from there.

"Hello, fair Y/N, Geralt does me no service. I'm Jaskier, a bard some would say of exceptional talent, I wrote 'Toss a Coin to Your Witcher', ever heard of it? I'm sure you have, it's about him!" He breaks briefly to jam his thumb in Geralt's direction, "And may I just say, you are very lovely and I hope that when he says that you're his 'travelling companion', he doesn't mean you're sleeping with him, because I would love to buy you a drink this evening."

Y/N is caught off guard by Jaskier's quick mouth and forward language, but she has to admit, the man is not unappealing. Despite his initial, uncomfortable staring, his eyes are soft as he looks at her, not menacing, and his words don't seem disingenuous; she could bet money on the fact that he really does think she's lovely. As much as she enjoys Geralt's company, she could of course do with some company that wasn't miserable or silent, and Jaskier brought a smile to her face in a way no one had for a while. Besides everything else, he's attractive, and the first man in a long time, if ever, to show genuine interest in her like this.

Once over her shock, she smiles at him. "Alright, Jaskier, I'm almost at my limit for tonight, but I suppose one more drink really couldn't hurt, if you must insist." Feeling bold with his genuine flirtations, she takes a chance and throws a wink his way, punctuating her sentence with it.

The change in atmosphere is sharp as a grin lights up Jaskier's entire face, one that makes Y/N's heart have palpitations as her stomach flops, and for the first time since Y/N met him, Geralt is stunned, and nearly drops his drink. Jaskier, lighting up the whole room with his smile, doesn't take his opportunity for granted.

"Right! Excellent! So glad you feel that way! I will order you a drink, and in return I want to know more about you, deal?"

Y/N can't help but feel lightheaded at the idea of this man really wanting to get to know her. "Deal."

Without questioning his luck, Jaskier quickly runs off to fulfill his end of the deal, leaving Y/N and Geralt in silence once more.

"Not to pry, for fear of damaging our professional relationship, but... really?" Geralt says, breaking the silence once more.

Y/N laughs. "He seems a decent enough man, and it's hard to find someone that earnest nowadays. Unless you have any cautionary tales, about your 'best friend in the world'?"

Geralt rolls his eyes at her comment, but says nothing. For everything annoying he sees in Jaskier, and as much as he pushed him away, it was rare that he found someone who was actually willing to entertain him. Despite how many people Jaskier goes to bed with, Geralt knows just as well that the bard's intentions were pure enough; he just needed someone to get on the same page as him.

"He's not totally incompetent, I'll give him that, and he's not harmful. Do what you will." Geralt mutters, then stands. "I'll get out of your way. I've seen enough of that boy's flirting to not want to watch his attempts at you."

Y/N laughs again. "Well, I thank you for the privacy, and by your standards, that seems a glowing recommendation for him, so I'll give him an honest shot. I value your opinion."

Geralt freezes. So that's what it feels like: mutual respect. He could get used to that. "We head out tomorrow morning." Y/N nods at him as he walks away.

She's not alone for long as Jaskier returns quickly, two drinks in hand, sliding into the spot across from her once more. He doesn't question where Geralt went, but he's relieved by the privacy.

"Now, your turn. Tell me about you. How does a lovely creature such as you end up travelling with Geralt of Rivia?"

She tells him. She recaps her life as it lead up to her career, and tells him of how she met Geralt, and tells him about her travels with the near infamous WItcher.  And hanging on the edge of his seat every moment, Jaskier listens.

As Y/N brings him up to date on her best stories, Jaskier sighs almost wistfully, "You're so interesting. Your life would make for amazing songs."

Y/N's laugh graces his ears. "Would it now? I never figured odd jobs would make entertaining musical material."

Jaskier sits up straight from where his head had lain in his hand, staring at Y/N as she spoke. "You do good things, and you're so... interesting. You've come so far in your life, you travel with one of the most interesting men in the world, all to do some good, even when it's hard. You're incredible."

Y/N feels her cheeks begin to glow a bright red at his praise. Her job was often thankless, so to hear someone say she did good, and that her good was fascinating enough to be acknowledged, felt like a warm hug after getting caught in a rainstorm.

"Thank you, Jaskier, I... don't get compliments like that often. I was under the impression that I'm pretty boring."

Jaskier feigned alarm, "You? I can't see anyone ever finding you boring, how could anyone with a goal and a story to tell be boring? And frankly, I quite think you deserve all the compliments, my lady."

When she began to think that she'd found the perfect man after only knowing him for one night, Y/N decides that she may have had just a tad too much to drink, and decides to call it a night. She coughs nervously.

"Well, I, uh- thank you, Jaskier. That's very kind of you. YOU are very kind. I've never had someone call me interesting, or listen to me so intently for so long, and it's a testament to your good character. This has been wonderful, and I thank you for the drink, but I'm quite tired and we ride out early tomorrow, so I'd best be headed to bed. Thank you for the drink, Jaskier." She pauses as she stands. "And your company."

As she walks away, Jaskier feels his heart beating through his chest, and the harsh thumping of it has him reeling. She enjoyed his company. She thought he was nice. She was willing to give him a chance. And she was... lovely. He got so swept up in her that he forgot he even had something to ask Geralt.

The next morning, after Jaskier had barely slept, he made sure to meet the adventuring pair as they head out once more. He fully intended on asking his favor of Geralt and going on his merry way.

Until Y/N stepped out that door, all misty-eyed and looking like a goddess, and when Geralt asked him what the fuck he wanted, all Jaskier could think to ask was, "Will you please take me with you?" She was too beautiful to let slip out of his hands, not when he was in like this, and she made his mind so blank and dizzy, but so ripe with inspiration at the same time. Being near her seemed a drug he would happily indulge in.

She offered him a ride on her horse, Cinnamon, when Geralt very reluctantly agreed to let him tag along. With his arms wrapped around her waist, he panicked that she could feel the intense beating in his chest. So he reverted to his best coping mechanism, and he sang; a song he had written the night before, about a very pretty woman who had traveled so far from home to spread good throughout the world. She grinned the entire time he sang.

#Jaskier #Jaskier x reader #The witcher #geralt of rivia #fluff #cute #can't believe the witcher of all things has me posting fanfiction again lmao #the witcher netflix #reader x jaskier #fanfic #the witcher fanfiction

[agentrouka-blog]

It's often said that Ned was the first to use Sansa as a pawn via the betrothal to Joffrey, but Catelyn's part is ignored. She actively encouraged him to accept the arrangement, was even eager for Sansa to be "used as a pawn" for their family's benefit. Ned is responsible for his own decisions and it's fair to hold him accountable, but it feels very disingenuous to erase Catelyn's accountability and put it all on Ned because "patriarchy." Sansa was failed by both parents in this, not just one.

I don’t know if these two asks are from the same person, but I’m grouping them together, because they concern the same thing:

apologies, i know i sound petulant, but i saw you say once that you don't blame ned for all of sansa's issues, but reading your posts, it seems like you do? not just you, every conversation in the sansa fandom anymore about something bad that happened to her, or a mistake she made, immediately devolves into "if NED hadn't done this or if NED hadn't done that or if NED hadn't failed her." idk how to interpret that except that he's blamed for all her woes, all her insecurities, all her flaws.

Preface: It is kind of impossible to leave out “because patriarchy” because that is the entire point of it. Both Ned and Cat as characters, as partners and as parents, are products of a deeply sexist, patriarchical society that harms ist most vulnerable members. The most vulnerable to Ned and Cat are their kids. Judging by what other parents are capable of (Lannisters, Tarlys), they are downright enlightened. And yet. Cat has internalized the misogyny and sexism the same way Ned has, no denying, but that doesn’t change the fact that Ned has all the actual legal power of decision-making when it comes to their family, and that this made clear in their confrontation.

1) Equal levels of blame. I agree that Cat hands Sansa over to Joffrey same as Ned. I don’t believe anybody is “erasing” that. Unlike Ned, she is driven by tangible fear for her family, and she actually becomes more uncertain of the choice while Ned changes his mind. At first, he wants to reject Robert’s offer, Cat is aghast.

“He will not understand that. He is a king now, and kings are not like other men. If you refuse to serve him, he will wonder why, and sooner or later he will begin to suspect that you oppose him. Can’t you see the danger that would put us in?” (…) Catelyn remembered the direwolf dead in the snow, the broken antler lodged deep in her throat. She had to make him see. “Pride is everything to a king, my lord. Robert came all this way to see you, to bring you these great honors, you cannot throw them back in his face.” “Honors?” Ned laughed bitterly. “In his eyes, yes,” she said. “And in yours?” “And in mine,” she blazed, angry now. Why couldn’t he see? “He offers his own son in marriage to our daughter, what else would you call that? Sansa might someday be queen. Her sons could rule from the Wall to the mountains of Dorne. What is so wrong with that?” “Gods, Catelyn, Sansa is only eleven,” Ned said. “And Joffrey … Joffrey is …” She finished for him. “… crown prince, and heir to the Iron Throne. And I was only twelve when my father promised me to your brother Brandon.”

It is a mix of sincere fear that rejecting Robert’s offers might mean danger, and her internalized sexism (and classism) which tells Cat this match is the best that Sansa can ever hope to get. Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. In a world where all your power derrives from the men in your family, that is the greatest amount of indirect political power any woman could hope to obtain - husband willing. Every husband would be a gamble in terms of character, and she herself intenalized an acceptance of infidelity and inequality as a girl. A happy marriage is not a priority for Cat, a sensible, dynastically advantageous one is. Unlike Sansa, Cat has no romantic illusions about marriage and is not about to make that a priority for her daughter. Because patriarchy. 

But, there is no suggestion yet that Sansa would be literally handed over to strangers right then with next to no supervision. Catelyn stayed at home in Riverrun until the day she was married.

After they are interrupted by Luwin with Lysa’s message, Cat becomes more insistent that Ned should head South. But NOT more insistent that Sansa should be betrothed to Joffrey. Ned tells Cat to remain in WF with Robb.

Then silence fell, until Catelyn found her courage and asked the question whose answer she most dreaded. “What of the other children?” Ned stood, and took her in his arms, and held her face close to his. “Rickon is very young,” he said gently. “He should stay here with you and Robb. The others I would take with me.” “I could not bear it,” Catelyn said, trembling. “You must,” he said. “Sansa must wed Joffrey, that is clear now, we must give them no grounds to suspect our devotion. And it is past time that Arya learned the ways of a southron court. In a few years she will be of an age to marry too.” Sansa would shine in the south, Catelyn thought to herself, and the gods knew that Arya needed refinement. Reluctantly, she let go of them in her heart. But not Bran. Never Bran.

Cat is almost surprised that Ned intends to take three of their children down south with him. THIS was Ned’s idea, not hers. And while she doesn’t really fight him on it and convinces herself of his logic, it is also made clear that this is a “My decision is final” moment for Ned. “You must”. Their relationship is not truly equal. Because patriarchy. 

“Yes,” she said, “but please, Ned, for the love you bear me, let Bran remain here at Winterfell. He is only seven.” 

“I was eight when my father sent me to foster at the Eyrie,” Ned said. “Ser Rodrik tells me there is bad feeling between Robb and Prince Joffrey. That is not healthy. Bran can bridge that distance. He is a sweet boy, quick to laugh, easy to love. Let him grow up with the young princes, let him become their friend as Robert became mine. Our House will be the safer for it.” He was right; Catelyn knew it. It did not make the pain any easier to bear.

He uses the same argument Catelyn used about Sansa’s betrothal to convince her about Bran. I was twelve... I was eight… It did me no harm, it won’t do them harm. Our House will be safer for it. Both Bran and Sansa are political tools to their parents, even at their tender age. If Cat had the final choice, they would have stayed at home, but she does agree with Ned. So I do agree that they both together decide to throw them into a very uncertain situation. Ned decides, Cat abides.

2) Unequal levels of blame. When things go down, it is Ned who is in charge of his two daughters. Cat was reluctant to send them South but I assume she was hoping he would, you know, do actual parenting. But here is where we see him make grave mistakes of indulgence and neglect. And that is why there is more focus on Ned failing Sansa (and Arya!) as a father than there is on Cat as a mother. We never even see Cat interact with her daughters. Mind, Cat is failing Robb and Rickon in the same way back home, buried in grief for Bran’s injury. But while Cat throws herself into the path of Valyrian steel, and is saved by Summer and comes to regard the wolves with more fierce devotion than even Robb, Ned kills Lady at Robert’s behest and barely puts up a fight about it. Because his king ordered him to do it. And because his daughter’s pain is not reason enough to refuse an idiotic order like that. Because patriarchy. 

3) I am not a Cat fan. I like her, I even like her better than Ned, but their subscription to the sexist values of their time hurts them both and makes them culprits, too. Ned takes advantage of his power from time to time, he doesn’t refrain from scaring Cat early in their marriage (while cuddling in bed, no less) and from almost bruising her arm in the scene above. He even gets petulant when their arguments convince him. (”The Others take both of you.”) Cat, meanwhile, is numbed to feeling the kind of empathy you would hope for from someone as perceptive as her. We get extremely little sympathy from her over Lysa’s, basically, entire life. She doesn’t even consider Joffrey’s personality when contemplating Sansa’s match. Her first consideration of young brides are whether or not they have child-birthing hips. A trail-blazing feminist, she is not. But within this framework of sexism and patriarchy, she is not the one with the power. Ned is. And he uses it. So I will hold him accountable for that, too. 

So, yeah, I don’t hate either of them. Imperfect parents are a fact of life, and I find them - and what GRRM expresses with them, this inevitability of doing things wrong by your children in some way, even with the best of intentions - fascinating and valuable and indispensible. But I don’t want any of their children to BE them. Ned and Cat 2.0 is actually the last thing I want. I want their children to surpass them in every way, but especially in terms of equality within relationships. 

#asoiaf #eddard stark #catelyn stark #patriarchy #sexism #parenting #asks #my posts

[rcmos]

hello !! im june && im so excited to be here. i’m here to hoard all the plots like a goblin with my trashy son so please like this post if you’d like to plot && i’ll hit you up asap !! coolcoolcoolcool

( henry zaga / male ) LEONARDO RAMOS is 25 years old and is a SENIOR at thales university. he is majoring in BUSSINESS and is known for being THE STEPFORD SMILER as he can be CHARASMATIC and AFFABLE as well as DISINGENUOUS and DECEPTIVE. every time i see him, he reminds me of a CHARMING SMILE, SCATTERED POLAROIDS, AND A CALCULATED DEMEANOR. ( june / 24 / she&her / gmt+2)

BASICS.

✘ leonardo ramos was originally born in brazil and later moved to the states when he was 10 years of age

✘ 25 years of age, born 13th of june

✘ member of the ghoul gang, close friend to steven.

✘ has a somewhat secret passion for photography

✘ somewhat recently discovered bisexual, exploring and figuring out his sexuality

✘ social smoker who has tried to quit many times 

✘ grandfather is a cop and leo would often sneak into his office to poke and pry into files. he especially fell in love with crime scene photos and developed a bizarre obsession with crime and the macabre.

ABOUT.

✘  leonardo ramos was born into the ‘picture perfect’ family. perfect home, perfect marriage, perfect children. his father an incredibly successful business owner while his mother is a hot shot lawyer. appearances are everything to the ramos and this extends to the ramos children as well. his eldest brother followed in his mother’s footsteps and pursued law, leaving the expectation of taking over the family bussiness in the hands of leonardo. his life was planned from the moment he was born, and he’s never known anything else.

✘  despite what image may appear on the outside, the ramos family in highly dysfunctional. there is no love, there is no affection, there is only appearances. the american dream on the outside, numbess on the inside. they do what they must, not what they desire. everything is neatly placed on the shelf for all to see, but no one seems to notice the cracks that linger.

✘  leo does not have a genuine personality. it is incredibly rehearsed and planned. every word, action and emotion is carefully calculated. everything must be in life with the image of perfection in mind. he was taught how to behave and anything less would not be tolerated. his facade comes across as exceptionally sweet and kind, a man who always knows what to say. some say his kindness and easy-going nature is his best virtue, a golden boy. he is not kind because he wants to be, or because he cares, it’s what is expected of him. 

✘  leo is the kind of person you want to bring home to your parents, someone to polite and affectionate. he always knows what to say, his gestures always endearing. his charm gets him where he needs to be, a perfect smile that never cracks. a heart of gold some may say. however, it’s all an act. leo very rarely acts on emotion, if anything emotions are a foreign concept to him. no, leonardo has learned to mimic those around him. every response, every feeling, every situation has a formulated response. nothing is natural, nothing comes from the heart, it is very analytical and precise.

✘ not many people are aware of how deceptive leo is, he plays it off very well. it’s the entire point, to pretend and fool those around him. to carefully create a pristine image of himself. the perfect son, the perfect student -- whoever he was expected to be he plays it off well. most people are under the notion that he is perfectly kind and sweet, a genuine soul who truly cares. hell, at time leo even falls for his own act. he forgets it’s not who he is. he forgets how robotic and calculated he is. he forgets how empty and hollow his heart truly is.

✘  the only genuine aspect about leo is his passion, perhaps obsession, with true crime and mystery. as a child he snuck into his grandfather’s office and peeked through his files, especially the photographs. such graphic and gruesome photos seemed to have scarred him, but not in a way one might except. it began an obsession. poking his nose into places he shouldn’t. if his life was his own, he would have pursued criminology. that was not apart of the ramos’ family plan, however. so he keeps it to himself, and a few select friends. 

✘  leo’s second passion in life would be photography. however, not really for the art of it all. no, he likes to document things. locations, details, mysteries....however, people are his favourite subject. he snaps these photographs without their knowledge, or permission rather, as he likes to keep track of those around them. analyze them on a much more personal level. he likes to watch and take notice mimic behaviours so he can better perfect himself. he likes to think of himself as some detective uncovering the truth, when in reality he’s simply allowing obsession to take control of him.

✘  leo tends to keep to himself, closed off when it comes to anything personal involving him. there are few who know him past the image he has created for himself, particularly the ghoul gang, the ones he indulges with and shows a different side of him. however, despite allowing others to be closer to him, everything is still calculated. he picks and chooses what he allows others to see. it’s the only way he knows how to function. raw emotions cause him to irrational and at times manics,

✘  the death of steven was a situation he never quite expected, nor planned for. the emotions that came with it were unfamiliar and terrified him. so he shut them all off. his response has been robotic, static, empty. he did not cry, he did not mourn, he simply remained blank. he cannot calculate the situation,  he cannot plan or mimic. he has no idea what to do, and it has left his deceptive nature open to the world to see. how can someone to be analytical of a close friend’s death. how is he supposed to keep his pristine image in tact once his friends finally see the emptiness behind his eyes. 

WANTED CONNECTIONS.:

✘  first relationship -- he’s dated many people in his life, but there was one person that came into his life that he, somehow, developed very deep and true feelings for. it scared him, he couldn’t quite plan past his nerves, and often fumbled and messed up quite often. the relationship inevitably failed and leo found it near impossible to open himself up completely.  

✘  exes -- he’s had various relationships here and there ( a man has needs ykno ), some ended on good terms while others were bad. some were superficial, some were something more. 

✘  best friend -- someone who he lets in, just a little. they know him more than most, and they can see past his act and choose to stick along anyways. they try their best to find the real leo, but it’s proven to be difficult. there’s glimpses of him, however. somewhere deep down a genuine soul lurks. 

✘  ghoul gang -- they perhaps know him better than anyone else. the people he geeks out with about mystery and crime. the ones he most likely spends time with the most. 

✘  experimenting -- someone he’s figuring out his sexuality with, someone to explore new things with. he doesn’t quite understand himself nor how he feels. he’s not hiding it, but he’s not open about it either. those who know, simply know, and he doesn’t quite divulge much with anyone else besides the person he’s with.   

✘  enemies -- people he just seems to clash with. he’ll remain sweet and kind as ever, but there’s a certain bite to it all. besides, it’s something fun to analyze. 

✘  study buddies, same majors, party friends, etc. -- anything and everything honestly. 

IM DOWN FOR ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING PLS HIT ME UP 

#pyrrhic.intro #yall this is kinda long #and i hope it makes sense #pls love me kthnx xoxoxo

[hockey-fics]

Just Once ~ Vince Dunn (Part Four)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three |

Summary: Your history with Vince resurfaces when you both end up back in your hometown over the summer.

Word Count: ~ 2,000

Warnings: Nothing in this part.

A/N: What was it, six months since I posted the last update? I’m sure nobody cares anymore, but here’s more of the story I had written over the summer but was too unsure of to post. 

Sitting at the patio table out back you listen only half-engaged to a story your cousin had been telling for at least twenty minutes about a bunch of money he had made in stocks. Nodding occasionally to indicate you hadn’t entirely zoned out was the only input you were providing. 

“Y/N.” Your mom calling your name brings a breath of relief at the disruption in the story. Turning around you look over at her, watching her motion for you to come to the back door. 

“Sorry, I’ll have to hear the rest of the story later,” you say to your cousin, already up from the picnic table and on your way towards the house. Walking up to the door you give your mom a curious look. 

“Vince is here,” she tells you with a mixture of amusement and concern, like she wasn’t sure how she should react to it. She wasn’t the only one though, you weren’t sure how to react either. 

“What?” You ask, stepping by her and heading into the house. “Why?”

Your mom laughs lightheartedly. “I don’t think I’m the one to be asking,” she tells you, stepping back outside and closing the door behind her, leaving you alone. 

Walking through the house you find Vince standing in the entryway of your house, eyes locked on his phone. “What are you doing here?” you ask, stopping a couple feet away from him.

Vince looks up, sliding his phone into his pocket. “You really don’t want me to meet your family, hey?” he jokes. 

“You’ve met my family, Vince,” you state harshly. “I was serious yesterday. I need this whole thing to cool down. I’m sorry if I didn’t make that clear enough yesterday.”

Vince steps closer to you, hand landing on your hip as he pushes you back against the wall. “I don’t want this to cool down and I don’t think you really do either.” 

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” you whisper, placing your hand on his chest to keep some distance between you and him. “I’m just being realistic, I can’t keep my feelings out of this anymore so I can’t keep doing this.”

“Then let’s just make is official,” Vince says quietly. “Be my girlfriend.” Hearing those words sends a wave of surprise through you, a sentence you would never have imagined hearing him say in these circumstances. Your eyes search his, trying to figure out if he was truly asking you that, to determine how serious he was. There isn’t a hint of disingenuity in his eyes and your heart begins to race in your chest. 

Speechlessly you shake your head, gazing up into his eyes. “I can’t,” you whisper. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, your body not wanting to go along with the words that were leaving your mouth. “You know we can’t, you’re leaving.” You can’t even bring yourself to look at him as you say it, worried you wouldn’t be able to remain composed if you did.

Vince reaches over, placing his hand on the side of your face, his thumb under your jaw as he tips your head back, taking away the option to not look at him. “People do it all the time.”

“Long distance?” you question skeptically. 

“Yeah,” Vince mutters, not sounding all that convinced that even he was sure about the prospect of a long distance relationship. 

You let the idea process for a minute, standing in silence as Vince seems to grow antsier with each passing second. “It would never work.” 

Vince nods in response, not arguing for it. Like he knew it was the truth, that there was no point in arguing for something you didn’t fully believe in. 

“You should probably go now,” you tell him, your voice so quiet you’re not sure he would be able to hear you if he hadn’t been standing almost pressed completely against you. Your fingers loosen on the fabric of his shirt, fingers still resting against his shoulder. 

“Should I text you later?” Vince asks, his thumb brushing against your jawline. 

You feel your eyes prickling with the threat of tears. “No,” you whisper, bringing your hand up and cupping over his, gently pulling it away from your face. “Please don’t.”

Vince hesitates for a second and you can almost see the wheels spinning in his brain. A moment later a look you’re not quite able to read crosses his face. “You’re really ending this right now?”

“I’m sure we didn’t have much time left anyway. You haven’t told me anything about when you’re planning to go, but I’m sure it’s soon.” You have to blink at a rate quicker than normal in order to cover up the tears forming in your eyes. “Right?” 

“A week,” he tells you. You feel a couple tears escape from your eyes, past the wall you were trying so hard to hold up, and you quickly reach up to wipe them away even though you knew it was too late for Vince not to notice. “I had a good time this summer, I’m glad you were here, that I got to spend this summer with you.”

The sincerity in his comment threatens to break you down even further. As his lips part to say something more you cut him off. “Vince,” you say shakily. “Please don’t make this more difficult than it has to be.” 

Vince nods, leaning down and pressing his lips to your forehead. It’s so gentle and you have to fight against your physical urge to pull him back as he steps away. Perhaps he’s at a loss for words, or perhaps he realizes that there’s nothing left to say, but he doesn’t say anything else. You watch Vince pull back slowly, turning around and walking back to the front door. As he gets to the door your breath catches in your throat. You hadn’t expected him to look back. So when he does, when his eyes meet yours from where he was standing in the doorway, you’re convinced you can physically feel the pain of him leaving. Once the door is shut you rest your head against the wall behind you, forcing deep breaths of air into your lungs. You knew this was going to happen. It had never been a matter of if, it had always been when. But you hadn’t spent any time preparing for it. Hadn’t realized how upset the end of what was supposed to be a casual relationship would leave you. But it was inevitable. It had to happen. It just didn’t make it any easier. 

“Mom said Vince was here,” your brother says loudly as he rounds the corner. 

Quickly you run your fingers over your cheeks, wiping away the tears you had let slip from your eyes thinking you would have a few minutes alone. “He, um, he left. Sorry, I didn’t realize you wanted to say hi to him,” you tell your brother, not looking at him in hopes that he would miss the fact that you were crying. 

You can sense without looking over that your brother hadn’t left when you said that, instead walking down the hallway until he was standing in front of you. “What’s going on? Why are you crying?”

Sniffling you cross your arms over your chest defensively, wanting to curl into yourself and disappear from this moment entirely. “It’s nothing, I’m fine. I just need a minute.”

“Did that asshole do something to you?” your brother asks, voice dripping with anger. 

You let out a half-strangled breath of laughter. How quickly he went from coming in to say hi to Vince to looking ready to track him down and kill him was almost comical. “No,” you tell your brother. “It’s complicated.”

“You’re clearly upset, I’m not just going to let this go. Tell me what he did.”

“He didn’t do anything,” you insist, your tone rising in frustration. “I ended it with him.”

Your brother furrows his eyebrows. “I thought you two weren’t together.”

“We weren’t,” you mumble. “I told you, it’s complicated. Was. It was complicated.”

“Why did he come over here?” your brother asks, clearly not believing your story. 

Fixing your eyes on the ground you try to come up with the answer to that. “I’m not totally sure,” you admit sheepishly. “But it doesn’t really matter because I’m not seeing him again.”

“Ever?” 

Shaking your head you bring your hands up, quickly wiping away another round of tears that you couldn’t stop. 

“Right,” your brother comments sarcastically. You watch him press his back into the wall, sliding down to sit on the hallway across from you. “Remember when we used to talk?”

Watching him sink to the ground, sitting like a child on the floor with his legs sprawled in front of him. “What do you mean? We talk.” 

Your brother chuckles, his head resting on the wall behind him as he looks up at you. “Hardly. I had to find out you were seeing Vince again from mom.”

“Because I wasn’t actually seeing him. If things were serious I would have told you.” Crouching down you lower yourself onto the hardwood floor, sitting across the hall from him. 

“You’re crying over him. It had to have been more serious than you’re making it seem.”

Sighing you pull your knees to your chest, arms folded over your knees as you rest your head on them. “Well it was never supposed to be serious.”

“What happened then?”

You sit in silence for a minute, trying to figure out the answer to that question. “I guess it’s just hard to keep things casual with someone you like so much,” you say as another round of tears fill your eyes. You keep your eyes fixed on a scuff on the floor a few feet in front of you, hoping your brother wouldn’t notice the way your eyes were glossed over again. 

“Do you love him?”

The question catches you off guard. “No,” you reply easily despite the unexpectedness of the question. Sighing you lean back into the wall, head back as you stare up towards the ceiling. “It was, what, a month?” 

Your brother chuckles. “Sure, a month, this time. But it’s not like you met him a month ago. How long were you together the first time?”

Shrugging you chew on the inside of your lip in contemplation. “A couple years, but it was on and off.”

“Even if you weren’t together for half that time that’s still a year,” your brother points out. “So it’s not that crazy to think you might have fallen back in love with him in a month.”

“Well I don’t. I don’t love him,” you state defensively. Your voice drops quieter as you continue, filled with less hostility. “I think I probably would have though, if we had more time, if I wasn’t trying so hard not to.” Your eyes remain locked on the wall ahead of you, though you can’t see much of anything through the blurry wall of tears in your eyes. 

You feel your brother’s foot hit your ankle, drawing your attention to him. Blinking quickly you wipe your eyes yet again, not willing to full on cry, even though it was only your brother. “Hey, at least you’ve got experience getting over him,” your brother jokes. 

Quiet laughter emerges from your lips. Not because it was actually funny. But because you were relieved that he was at least trying to lighten the mood. “Gotta find the silver lining somewhere, I guess.” 

But no matter how much experience you had getting over him you were pretty sure there was no way to make it easier.

#vince dunn #vince dunn imagine #nhl imagines #nhl fic #hockey imagines #hockey fic #vince dunn fanfic #vince dunn fanfiction #nhl fanfic #nhl one shot #hockey one shot #st louis blues imagine #st louis blues fanfiction

[emeraldwaves]

Title: A Surprise Trip Pairing: Dekulissa Rating: T Word Count: 2,963 AO3

Summary:

Ochako and Iida decide to surprise Izuku with the perfect date for their Prom night.

This was written for the @bnhapromzine !! There’s a one week sale going on right now! This is your last chance to grab the zine: https://bnhapromzine.bigcartel.com/ !! There are a lot of amazing pieces in it!

Clutching her small carry-on bag, Melissa took a deep breath. This was going to be fun. She knew they were all looking forward to it, and she was too, when she wasn't too busy fighting off her nerves.

Melissa was no stranger to planes. She and her father had traveled plenty due to his job. On top of that, they had taken plenty of family trips when she was a young girl. She had been to Japan before and admittedly, she was excited to go back. Still, her heart wouldn't stop pounding in her chest, the nerves and excitement mingling together.

She swallowed and checked her phone, her thumb swiping over the black screen. Her friends had all assured her this was a good idea, and she wanted to believe it was too, but the fear of the unknown always made her a little uneasy. Melissa loved experimenting, hypothesizing outcomes, creating new inventions, and yet, this was a whole different kind of experiment.

She tapped on the message app, pulling up her group chat with Ochako and Tenya. The previous messages expressed excitement for her trip.

[Text: Surprise Trip]: Hello you two! I'm about to board the plane.

[Text from: Surprise Trip Ochako]: Yay! Can't wait to see you again! Deku-kun is going to be so surprised!

[Text from: Surprise Trip Tenya]: Please stay safe. We will be sure to pick you up when you land. We are tracking your flight.

She giggled, quietly amused by the two of them. She was happy the two of them cared about Izuku just as much as she did.

Pursing her lips, Melissa let out a sigh. She rolled her previous thought around in her head. Of course she cared about Izuku. He was someone who had become so important to her ever since their time together on I-Island.

This trip was going to be her chance to finally talk to Izuku about how she felt, and she prayed it wasn't a bad idea.

"The school is hosting a school dance in a few weeks. We've, uhm, never done anything like that!" Izuku had said when they spoke a few weeks prior.

"Really?" Melissa asked, "Every school here has school dances. Going to the prom is a staple of finishing high school!"

"Yeah, everyone is really excited about it!" Izuku said excitedly. "A few people have already asked some people..." Izuku had trailed off, fidgeting in his seat. "Y-You know... to go as dates." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking awkward.

Melissa had waited, wondering if Izuku would ask her. It was something of a pipe dream of course. She was all the way in America and Izuku wasn't the type to ask anything major of her.

So when he didn't ask, it was somewhat disappointing, but Melissa had let it go. It was a long distance crush. There wasn't much she could do.

Or so she thought, until she'd received the call from Ochako and Tenya.

"We want to bring you here! As a surprise!" Ochako had said.

"A surprise?" Melissa had asked.

"Mhm! For Midoriya-kun!" Tenya had agreed.

"I think he might be too scared to ask you himself," Ochako had giggled.

Melissa's cheeks flushed. Izuku had wanted to ask her? "O-Oh, admittedly, I was hoping he was going to. It's been awhile since I've been to Japan a-and..."

"It's settled then!" Ochako said.

Melissa offered to pay for the full ticket, but Tenya insisted.

When they called her section, she made her way onto the plane. Soon she would be in Japan, seeing her dear friends after all this time. Mostly, she was looking forward to seeing Izuku again. They video chatted frequently, but actually getting to see his cheery smile and speak with him in person was another excitement entirely.

Taking her seat, she pulled out her phone one more time.

[Text: Surprise Trip]: Alright, see you on the other side!

She swiped her thumb over her screen one final time before switching her phone on to airplane mode. It was all going to be perfectly fine. Just because they were going to be at a dance together didn't mean she had to confess her feelings. Though it also seemed like the perfect place to do so. Melissa sighed, leaning back against her seat and closed her eyes. She had a long flight ahead of her, and if she could only get some rest, maybe she wouldn't be so caught up in her thoughts.

~~

His bow tie was crooked. Izuku twisted his head trying to make sure he wasn't crazy, but no, the tie definitely was off. He leaned forward, adjusting it in the mirror once more.

With a sigh, he pressed his teeth into his lower lip. It didn't really matter all that much, he wasn't trying to impress a date. There was only one person he really wanted to ask, but it would've been impossible for her to come. Asking any of the other girls felt disingenuous when he only wanted to be there with Melissa.

However, in the end, it felt strange to ask her when she was so far away.

Truly, Izuku was only looking to have a nice evening with his friends. They would dance and hang out; a night of fun.

They didn't have very many nights left at U.A, and Izuku wanted to make it special. These were friends he would cherish for years, people who finally made him feel loved. His friends were part of the reason his dream was coming true at all.

He pulled in a deep breath, trying not to feel so emotional. The prom hadn't even started yet!

There was a knock on his door and Izuku jumped, startled by the sound. "Coming!" he called out, opening the door to find Iida standing in the hall. He was in a deep blue suit, even darker than his blue hair.

"Hello Midoriya-kun," he said, shooting his hand into the air. "You look very nice."

"Iida-kun!" Izuku laughed. There were many things that hadn't changed from their first year and Iida's wild hand gestures were certainly something he hadn't grown out of.

"Shall we head to the gym?" he offered.

"Sounds good to me!" Izuku said. "Have most people gone over?" he asked and Iida quickly shook his head.

"No. Many of the girls are still getting ready, so their dates are forced to wait for them," he explained, but he pulled out his phone, glancing at his screen nervously. Odd. Izuku wondered if Iida was meeting a date after all.

The two of them made their way over to the gym and entered the main room. It had been transformed into a beautiful dance floor. A disco ball hung from the ceiling, glittering lights twinkling on every surface. Streamers hung on the walls and Present Mic stood in front of a DJ setup on a makeshift stage they had built.

"Wow!" Izuku said, turning excitedly towards Iida. "The dance committee did such a nice job!" Of course, Iida and Yaoyorozu were in charge of the dance.

"Thank you, Midoriya-kun!" Iida said, adjusting his glasses on his face. "We wanted to set everything up so that everyone could enjoy tonight, since all the classes will be here." He pulled out his phone again, nervously looking at the screen. It wasn't like Iida to be so on edge about... something.

"Right. Are you okay, Iida-kun?" Izuku asked and Iida leaped away from him, clutching his phone to his chest.

"Yes! I-I am p-perfectly fine!" he stammered, adjusting his glasses. "U-Uh... Midoriya-kun could you go wait over there for a moment?" he asked, shoving his hands against Izuku's back as he pushed him towards some of the chairs.

"U-Uh, sure!"

"Great, be right back!" he said and dashed away, disappearing from the gym.

"What the-..." Izuku blinked, looking where Iida had just been. So bizarre. Iida was always a little strange…

Come to think of it, everyone had been acting odd all day. Originally, Izuku had chalked it up to everyone being nervous for the dance, but most people had been avoiding him or acting jittery. Todoroki had blatantly turned in the other direction when he saw Izuku come to the kitchen for breakfast.

But why...? From what he could recall he hadn't done anything. He tapped his chin, his mind racing through a list of possibilities. Just a few days ago everything had seemed fine. So maybe they were nervous about him going to the dance alone? It seemed silly... he had seen his friends go on dates before. He had been around when they had gone on dates and yet-

"Deku-kun!" Uraraka's voice cut through his spiraling thoughts and he jerked his head up, seeing the girl running towards him, Kacchan not far behind. Her pink floor length dress had a smooth, sparkly bodice and long puffy skirt. Her short bob was straightened to frame her face perfectly. Adorable, as always.

"Uraraka-san!" he said, waving. She lunged forward, taking his hands in her own. "We have a surprise for you!"

"You do?" he asked, tilting his head.

"Mhm, mhm!" she giggled. "Iida-kun! Are you ready?"

"Yes!"

Behind Uraraka and Kacchan, Todoroki and Yaoyorozu stood with Iida, but all of them quickly moved out of the way to reveal the last person Izuku had expected to see this evening.

Melissa Shield.

She stood in the middle of the dance floor, her long blonde hair pulled up into a messy bun. Small pieces of hair framed her cheeks and she had worn her contacts, her green eyes glistening under the disco ball lighting. Her dress was a soft light pink, trailing down just below her ankles. It shaped her hips until the skirt flowed out, wavy and silky, like a pink ocean wave dancing around her legs. A rose sash was tied around her waist, ribbons lining the side of the dress.

Izuku was sure he looked like a fool, jaw dropped, in complete shock. Melissa Shield was really here.

"M-M-Melissa!?" he gasped, running immediately to her. "You're here?!"

"I am!" she laughed. "Hi, Izuku." She bowed her head. "It's good to see you."

"But, what? How? Why? When? Who... I... I don't... how?!" he stammered, words pouring from his mouth as fast as lightning, his brain unable to process the moment in front of him.

"Your friends invited me," she said. "They, uhm, said they thought you wanted me here-"

"We all know you wanted to ask her!" Uraraka chimed in, leaning toward them. "So Iida and I contacted her."

"B-But-"

"I... hope it's okay that I'm here?" she asked, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

"Of course it is!" Izuku yelled, grabbing her hand. "I... I can't tell you how happy I am!"

She let out a small sigh, as if she had been holding her breath in anticipation. "I-I'm so glad..." she sighed, pressing her hand to her chest. "I was a little nervous."

"No! No, no, no, no!" he exclaimed. "D-Don't be nervous! I'm so happy you're here."

Uraraka giggled, bouncing up and down on her feet. "C'mon guys, let's give them a moment okay?" She pressed her hands against Kacchan's back and pushed him away, gesturing for everyone to follow.

Izuku smiled, staring at how beautiful Melissa looked. It was difficult to not reach out and touch her, just to make sure she was actually there. "I just... I can't believe you're here! Y-You look... wow... I-I mean amazing!"

She laughed, her cheeks flushing. It only made her look cuter. "Thanks," she smiled. "You look nice too. It's been awhile since we've been able to see one another in person."

"I know," he chuckled. "Hopefully I'll get to see you a lot when I'm in America next year?"

She nodded, a huge smile on her face. "I'm really excited! A-And admittedly, I thought you would think it was silly that I... couldn't wait until then to see you."

"Ah! Not at all!" he said, waving a hand frantically. "Actually, I... I wanted to invite you. I thought about it during our last video call."

"Mm, is that why you got all awkward at the end?" she asked, tilting her head.

"Y-Yeah," he muttered, letting out a soft sigh. "I wanted to, but it seemed so... silly," he admitted finally. "I mean, I'm coming to America in a few months and it's just a dance and it's not like..." he trailed off. It wasn't like Melissa was his girlfriend... he hadn't asked her to be that either.

"Like... what?" she asked.

Izuku laughed. "N-Nevermind! I-I'm just really excited you're here. Should we, uh, go dance?" he asked, squeezing her hand gently.

"Well, I guess that is the point of going to a dance!" she cheered and squeezed his hand back, pulling him out onto the dance floor.

The two of them rejoined the group, everyone excited to see Melissa. She, of course, was bombarded with hugs from Uraraka, Yaoyorozu and Jirou, the girls all laughing. The music thumped from wall to wall, students cheering and laughing as they all danced and moved together.

"Did we surprise you, Midoriya-kun?" Iida asked.

"Yeah!" he laughed. "I never expected her to come, but... I'm so happy," he said, his lips curling into a large smile.

"Now you can ask her out," Todoroki said and Izuku whipped his head around, blinking fast. "What? You said you wanted to."

"I-I said m-maybe and I couldn't find a good time and I don't even know if she wants to and-"

"Dude," Kaminari snorted, butting into the conversation. "She flew all the way here to be your date for the prom. Of course she likes you!"

Izuku felt his cheeks flush even more.

The two of them continued to dance with the group, and Izuku shoved all thoughts of asking Melissa to be his girlfriend aside. She was so smart, funny, and beautiful. She was confident, too, proud of her work. Izuku had grown far more confident over his time at U.A., but he didn't have much when it came to girls.

For now, he enjoyed having her here, and laughing with all of their friends.

It was a nice change of pace. They spent so much time training and studying, it was rare they ever had fun, more casual events like this. Yaoyorozu had brought a camera, and she and Ashido traded off taking pictures to capture memories for later, though Izuku already knew this was a night he wouldn't forget.

Suddenly, the lights dimmed and Present Mic threw on some slow ballad. The room halted, filling with awkward energy, everyone trying to figure out who to dance with.

Melissa tucked her hands behind her back, smiling as she glanced toward Izuku. He swallowed, "U-Uh, Melissa, should we... dance?"

"I'd love to," she smiled.

He extended his hand to her, pulling her close. Before, she had been taller than him, but after his growth spurt, he had a bit of height on her. He wrapped his arm around her waist and she placed her hand on his shoulders, the two of them swaying together.

"Thank you," he whispered, "for coming tonight."

"It was really my pleasure. It's nice seeing all of you and not just your face on a screen," she giggled.

"It's true and... uhm, you look really pretty. I-I know I said that but uhm, just wanted you to know again," he stammered.

She laughed. "Izuku, you don't have to be so nervous. It's just me."

He hated how awkward he was right now. One of the things he adored about Melissa was how comfortable he felt around her, how their friendship was natural and easy. This wasn't him at all. He knew he had to ask her and get it over with.

He squeezed her hand. "But... it's not just you. I-I mean it is but... you're... special to me. Tonight's special, I mean it's even more special with you here now and I guess... what I'm trying to ask is... do you want to be my girlfriend? I-I know long distance for a few more months will be hard but then-"

"Izuku," she said, cutting him off as she brought both her hands to his cheeks. She leaned forward, and brushed her lips against his, kissing him softly. His heart almost leapt into his throat and he gripped her waist hard, pushing back against her lips before she pulled back, leaving him desperate to do it at least one more time. "I do wanna be your girlfriend."

"You do? I-I mean I guess... heh... really?"

"Really," she smiled.

His lips pulled into a smile and he was convinced they would be stuck in that position. He gripped her waist and spun her around. "I-I'm so happy!"

"Me too!" she giggled.

"I'm... I'm really never going to forget this night," he said, leaning his forehead against hers.

"Me neither," she whispered, brushing her nose against his.

The music picked back up again and Melissa giggled, squeezing his hand. "Should we go dance with everyone again?"

"I noticed a few of them staring so I'm sure they're going to ask all the questions," he snorted.

"Might as well get it over with!" she teased, dragging him back toward the crowd, the group of them cheering and dancing together. He kept his fingers laced with Melissa's while they jumped and spun around. Though things were official, he couldn't seem to let her go.

He had no idea what the future held. Soon, he'd be in America with her and they could spend as much time together as they pleased. For now, he was going to enjoy the rest of prom, dancing with her and his friends all night.

#dekulissa #melissa shield #izuku midoriya #deku #bnha #zine fic

[mrneighbourlove]

Evil’s Bane: Ch 7. Entering the Tower

Darkness was all around them. Along with a petrifying smell. They couldn't hear any sounds, not even in their own heads. It was as if time had stopped to entrap them in a pocket of hell. As long as this feeling of isolation and disgust lasted, their release was just as quick. The jaws of the serpent spat out the contents it had swallowed, quickly retreating back into the water from which it came. Leere's vision was incredibly blurred, and she gasped for air as she felt the earth beneath her. It was hard on her left, yet soft on her right. A decomposed body perhaps? Finally, she remembered to speak. "B-Bonegrinder? Anyone there?"

"Leere!" Black exclaimed. "Thank the Mother Goddess! You've been knocked silly for a good while. And I can't move." He was currently trapped underneath one of Bonegrinder's massive coils. "He took the brunt of the landing and he's out cold. Think you can pull me out from underneath him?"

Leere picked herself up, grabbing Bonegrinder by his coil. With a deep breath, she dug her feet, clenched her muscles, and pulled. "Fat. Loath."

"... that's not going to work." Black managed to wriggle free his staff that was attached to his body strap. He rolled it over to Leere. "Use this as a lever underneath his coil. I'll help you push down to get my legs free. Tell me when you're ready."

"Ok." Leere grabbed his staff, ready to pry Bonegrinder off. "Ready? One three. One. Two. Three!"

Black gritted his teeth and managed to move his legs free from under his master. Luckily, nothing was broken, just bruised. A Wraith's body was trapped in a state of living and decay, so trying to heal a wound was a major problem. Wobbly on his feet, he then asked, "Are you all right?"

"I am." Leere looked around, seeing someone lift themselves from the ground. There was fog around them, but with Leere's vision getting better, she made out his outline. "Bi-Hanzo?" The man was holding his head, a little groggy from the landing. "Indeed. I think I see Kenshi over there. If he's alive I'm going to wake him up."

"I would summon some fire, but it smells like methane in here." Black coughed once at the smell. "So I am not going to risk that. Though, I can provide some light." The Wraith took off his head wrap that covered most of his face and head. One reason he wore it was because his hair floated in every direction and... he was actually a grey-blue from head to toe. Glowing. "This is a pain when you try to sneak up on someone."

Leere was surprised to be sure. Her small shock turned into a smile quickly. "I bet. You know, for someone between life and death, you're still a rather handsome man." She looked around to see Bi-Hanzo getting Kenshi on his feet. "Good. We're all alive. Do you think Bonegrinder can be woken up easily?"

"I will..." Black looked a little puzzled at her comment. "Take that as a compliment." He then glanced at his master. No wonder he was out cold. Evidently, he hit head first, snapping one horn completely off and cracking the other. "Give me a moment to see."

"Take your time." Kenshi was rubbing his head. Man lost his sword in the attack. "Where are we?" Bi-Hanzo patted him on the shoulder. "Stay here with them. I'll look around."

"Bonegrinder. Bonegrinder!" Black shook the Anagari lightly, not wanting to jar him further, but the situation was urgent. The huge snake did not move. The Wraith frowned and sighed. "I think he rattled his skull. It's going to take him a bit to heal. We should wait here. We do not know what this creature is and our surroundings."

Bi-Hano ran back just over the small hillside. "All of you. Come with me now, you need to see this."

Leere looked to Black and nodded. Walking with Bi-Hanzo, the moment they came out of the fog, they were stopped in their tracks at the sight. In front of them was the biggest castle they had ever seen. No, it'd be disingenuous to call it simply a castle. It was a massive city, with sophisticated architecture that linked everything together. The designs were incredibly Gothic by nature, with the very sky as red as blood in the air. Black clouds rolled over, and the air was dry to breath in. They didn't need to see eyes on them to know that they were being watched by at least something. The most impressive, or haunting piece of architecture depending how one viewed it, was a titanic tower. It kept spiraling up and up and up, far above the clouds themselves. It had etching in its stone that were large and deliberate as well. The entire city could be described as gothic.

"... I'm beginning to believe we should have left when Bonegrinder insisted we did." Black said very dryly as he gave Leere an annoyed glance. "Because that does not look very inviting."

"No. I agree with you." Bi-Hanzo let his clenched hands go. "This is center of all of the evil in Malus. Inferos. The serpent didn't need to kill us. It just wanted to bring us here..."

"... EXACTLY why we should have left." Black groaned aloud and then pulled Leere along back to Bonegrinder. "There's no way in hell that I'm leaving him and he entrusted the princess in my care. So, we will both wait here and I suggest you two do the same."

Leere was about to say something, when a shadow flew over them. Glancing to the city, she saw the monster from her dream perch itself on a tree. It was hard to make out in the shadows, but it was defiantly it. "You!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" As Leere tried to get up to follow after the shadow, Black snatched her wrist and yanked her backwards. "You can 'you!' it later, you can't go after whatever that was blindly!"

"That's what we came here to deal with! That's what threatened my family and Hyrule!" Leere tugged away, tightening the collar on her trench coat. "Killing monsters is what I do."

The two other Mortuus watched as Leere pulled away from Black and started walking ahead. Bi-Hanzo decided to take the lead for Kenshi. "I have no idea if we can return. But perhaps we can find the missing villagers here."

"Like my daughter." With hope in his heart, Kenshi ran after Leere.

Before running with the other two Bi-Hanzo looked to Black one more time. "You should join us. Before one of those monsters comes here."

"It's not a monster, Leere! Even if that... that..." Black swore under his breath. "Abomination is simply a host, it is much more powerful than you, than me, and even those two lunkheads combined! We cannot hope to defeat it unless we have Bonegrinder with it. And defeat... is a very strong word. Please, if you won't listen to Bonegrinder, then listen to me." He implored her. "We don't know the extent of what we're dealing with. Don't rush in without leaping and leave your family without a mom."

Leere stopped in her tracks, for only a moment. "I've stopped god like beings before. I know the risks." With that, she ran into the city perimeter. Bi-Hanzo and Kenshi quickly followed behind her.

As Black stewed with his thoughts on the matter, he heard a familiar galloping approach from behind. "Black? Is that you?"

While Black had agreed to keep an eye on the princess, there was no way he was going to leave Bonegrinder vulnerable and alone. The snake would probably bite his head off, not literally, but lecture him nine circles to hell when he woke up and found the princess gone. Though, the Wraith was shocked to see the Lynel. "Hades!!!" Black was relieved. "You're alive! We were worried for you!"

"I worried for you. It was a miracle I stayed alive so long. And your scent suddenly traveled so far north, I could barely keep up. Where is the Sage of Shadow?"

Hades looked down to Bonegrinder, parting the hair out of his eyes. He didn't look good. "What happened to you..."

"The all-wise sage decided to go on a wild goose chase after I warned her not to do so." The Wraith grumbled to the Lynel. "That woman doesn't listen." When he inquired of Bonegrinder, the Wraith frowned. "I think in the scuffle of this serpent inhaling us, he hit his head. I'm guessing a skull fracture since usually something like this wouldn't knock him out. It's just taking him a little to heal."

Hades looked into the city, shuddering. "Go find her. I'll stay here with Bonegrinder and get him awake. It's important that the sage stays alive long enough to not be killed by some mindless beast."

Black felt conflicted. "Are you sure? Two guardians are better than one."

"I'm ten times the guardian you are." Hades gave the Wraith a light grin. "Go. I'll use my magic to try and jumpstart his awakening. We'll be able to track you, no matter how deep you go into that city."

"Just because you're bigger, doesn't necessarily mean better." Black patted Hades' haunches. "I'm glad you're all right, friend. Please be safe while watching over Bonegrinder."

“I will.” Hades watched Black race off to chase after Leere. Placing a hand on Bonegrinders head, he channeled some magic and waited for him to awaken.

~

Leere was finding new ways to be surprised. Going through a large city block, she saw windy staircases that raced around towers, spiders traveling on rope sized webs, and water traveling upwards from a pond into a building. “Keep an eye out for anything.”

Black had hurried after the princess, but decided to lurk in the darkness. It was safer than way. Not to mention, in case Leere suddenly had an idea to run away from him again, she could not pin point where he was. So for now, he kept hidden, watching.

The Sage pointed the way for their target destination. “There. That’s our best option.” As they opened the door to the city gates, a deep stench swept through the area. On the other side was a mountain of corpses piled up. A half a dozen hooded Mortuus were gathering bodies when they saw the new comers. It was hard for the group to hide their presence with how creaky the city gates were. The other Mortuus paused, unsure in the present moment on how to act against the newcomers. That was when one pointed, letting out a horrific low-pitched howl. Leere could only make out the intense rage in their black and red eyes glowing slightly in the dimly lit area.

Some of the local Mortuus took control of a few of the corpses to fight Leere and her party. Another started to bled from her eye sockets, their body tearing itself apart in a transformation. In the city of Inferos, Mortuus who walked the streets were open to the unspoken rule of kill or be killed at any time.

Both Bi-Hanzo and Leere felt they couldn’t take control of the nearby bodies or destroy them at a will. So they resorted to other means. Leere took her scythe, cutting down zombified corpses that staggered their way towards her. The warrior of balance made his way to kill the casters directly. With no mercy, he froze bodies, shattering flesh apart. The Mortuus who was transforming had finished turning into a beast of fur and fangs. The Lycan charged at Kenshi, who was still looking for a weapon to use.

Other Mortuus in the area simply opted to flee. Not every one of them were so eager to throw their lives or spill blood. Leere and Bi-Hanzo were grateful that everyone who was watching them didn’t feel the need to attack. What neither enjoyed was the lack of control they could seize from the other Mortuus. Their zombies had their puppet masters, and they wouldn’t be taken away from them.

Black swore from the shadows and decided to get involved. Leere seemed to be a magnet for trouble when dealing with forces of darkness. Hades was at least right about that part. Kenshi was in trouble with that damn wolf, Leere and Hanzo were chopping up zombies, and there were monsters all around... Black was beginning to think Hades should have gone ahead instead of him. While the assassin was an excellent fighter, he was used to dealing with opponents one-on-one or very quickly, not in a battle setting. Though, he would do his best. Emerging from the darkness, he appeared in front of Kenshi and cut down the werewolf with a slice to its throat. Tossing Kenshi one of his blades, he instructed. "Don't lose it, kid."

Kenshi watched as the werewolf grabbed its throat, stumbling backwards. Gripping the sword, the Mortuus man took a breath as he ran forward towards one of the Necromancers, decapitating one with multiple swings to the neck.

Bi-Hanzo held no regrets about killing his own people. In fact, in his mind, these weren’t his people. The centralists were monsters masquerading in his flesh and skin. Turning briefly into a mist form he gracefully moved past the dead, killing the last of the Necromancer attacking them.

Leere’s blue scythe sizzled as she brought it to her side, a light sound vibrating in the air to cut the silence. “Black. Thank you for the assistance. Where’s Bonegrinder?”

"Hades is helping him heal." Black informed Leere as he walked around and remove the heads of all the corpses... just in case. "He survived. We both think Bonegrinder fractured his skull in that fumbling around. They should be catching up in a few minutes, I hope."

Hades? The cat had been able to follow them all this way so quickly? Strange, but Leere wasn’t going to question how he got here in the moment. “That’s good.”

Around them, in the buildings, other Mortuus were gathering to their window sides more and more. Even some curious kids. Finally, one of the residents spoke out. “Outsiders! Very odd to see a group of outer ring Mortuus who aren’t completely lacking in perpetration. And we didn’t know you had the skill to have a pet undead so stealthy.”

Leere tapped the staff of her scythe against the ground. “He’s not a pet, but a fellow traveller.” “Traveller? Ha! Who in their right mind would want to travel here?” Some of the residents laughed. Many held expressions of stone.

Bi-Hanzo shouted out to them. “Have there been other Mortuus from the outside taken here? Answer us!”

“Oh sure,” the resident smiled. This was the most entertainment she had in forever.

“They often go up there.” She pointed to the biggest on the continent. “But no outsiders ever leave the Tower of Death.”

“Tower of Death?” Leere chimed in. Seemed like a simple name.

“Of course. It’s a magical construct that is simply, ultimately, and in all its finality, death.”

"... pet?" Black scoffed with a role of his glowing eyes. "I am no puppet. More like a ghost than one of their ghouls." He then looked at Leere. "We're not going up into that tower without Bonegrinder or Hades. If my master's indication was correct, then this means that there is a possibility that Destroyer could very well be nearby."

“I absolutely agree.” Leere was scanning the eyes looking down on her. Up near her top left she saw a small boy tilting his head at her. When he saw that he had her attention, he waved to her. The Shadow Sage felt sad. This was no place to raise a child. What if she had to raise Joy like this? It deeply troubled her.

The resident looked shocked by Destroyer being mentioned. “No. Don’t mention his name. Terrible things always happen when he’s mentioned.”

The land was indeed as hideous as Bonegrinder had described it. He had no idea why anyone would want to live here. Those in their right mind wanted to escape. The others who wanted to remain were less than sane. Though, his master's words flowed through his mind: "friend or foe is not a question here". So... could these people really be 'good'? "Then would you rather me call him something else?" Black asked dryly. "One of his other names? Or Sir Divine Asshole?"

“It’s a case of never meet your heroes. Least for us that live on the lower levels. Death, madness and chaos has run rampant since they arrived.”

Kenshi let an angry shout out to them. “Don’t try to spin a tale of pity! You lot thrive on that! You dabble in evil magics!”

The resident snarled, a streak of fury on her face. “We do what we can to survive. Sure, we kill and betray sometimes do that, but we are still a community that bands together. Those that live higher want to the consume the whole damn world with their ambitions.”

Leere was about to say something, when a wailing siren was heard. At the far ends of each block, a deep fog was rolling in. Suddenly, all the residents were rushing to shut their windows. The lady talking to them pointed at the tower. “If you value your lives, run to the tower doors! I wish you luck!”

“Wait a second!” It was too late. Leere watched the last window close with the woman. In the fog, a massive tentacle reached out, scooping up a dog that was patrolling the food. With a whine the dog was taken into the fog, followed by a sickening crunch heard from inside. As the wet crunches echoed outwards, the Shadow Sage knew that they could easily be next. Leere looked to Black. The way to Bonegrinder was quickly cut off by the fog. It was like it wanted the group to enter the tower. “Black! We have to go!”

"... you know I blame you for dragging me into this, right?" Black snatched her wrist and started running at full speed. "Hold your breath. This is going to feel really cold." With a jump, he landed, sinking into the shadows below, pulling in Leere with him. He maneuvered around the tentacles through the darkness, zooming to the doors.

Bi-Hanzo and Kenshi, not having the same luxury, sprinted as hard as they could to the doors. They were made to be 30 feet tall, and need all of Leere and Blacks strength to open. “Pull your back into it!”

Black was throwing himself against the door, trying his best to get it to open. The only other option was to try to use the shadows to slide inside under the door... though, that would be difficult if he could not see where he was going. Just as it seemed the fog was going to catch up to them, Bonegrinder's huge coils slammed the doors open with one massive strike. The Anagari looked like hell. His horns were still damaged, his skin was scuffed, and he was missing several scales. Hades' magic had helped him heal, but his face was sunken and skin paling. It was obvious he was pushing his limit, despite Prama's influence. The huge Lynel was beside of him, unharmed for now.

The group of six ran in, with Hades closing the doors behind them as quickly as they opened it. With a loud bang, the doors sealed shut. Like it or not, they were trapped inside the black heart of Malus.

________________________________________________________________

Previous Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/626094342071828480/evils-bane-ch-6-yield-to-damnation

Next Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/626629526442655744/evils-bane-ch-8-looming-dread

#Crossover #ridersoftheapocalypse #leere dragmire #leere #Bonegrinder #Black the Wraith #Malus #Mortuus #Horror

[mellicose]

Doctor ... WTF?

An impassioned rant about the steady decline of Doctor Who, the trajectory of the Thirteenth Doctor, and the righteous indignation after The Timeless Children, not only as a Whovian, but as a woman-

I love how certain people are spinning The Timeless Children as being good, yet the BBC has released (2)TWO statements basically telling fans the following:

“Doctor Who is a beloved long-running series and we understand that some people will feel attached to a particular idea they have of the Doctor, or that they enjoy certain aspects of the programme more than others. Opinions are strong and this is indicative of the imaginative hold that Doctor Who has – that so many people engage with it on so many different levels.

We wholeheartedly support the creative freedom of the writers and we feel that creating an origin story is a staple of science fiction writing. What was written does not alter the flow of stories from William Hartnell’s brilliant Doctor onwards – it just adds new layers and possibilities to this ongoing saga.”

Creative freedom, huh? Ask Joe Hill about it. Or Gaiman. The writers, including Chibnall, are only free to do what the Beeb and the other show investors tell them. 

They go on:

“We have also received many positive reactions to the episode’s cliff-hanger. There are still a lot of questions to be answered, and we hope that you will come back to join us and see what happens, but we appreciate that it’s impossible to please all of our viewers all of the time and your feedback has been raised with the programme’s Executive Producer." 

Uglylaughing.gif

There is a huge, monumental difference between 'not being able to please everyone all at the same time' and basically making a whole fandom, New and Classic, young and old, come together with the same level of disgust and disappointment.

I also find the people arguing "Canon? What canon?" about the Doctor now being the Lord and Savior of the Shining World of the Seven Systems to be foolish at best, and disingenuous at worst.

No canon?? So what have I been steeping myself in for years  - a vague approximation of a tale? Please. Of course, writers have embellished and alluded, but tampering with the unspoken but well-known 'no touch' rule about the Doctor's origin is ... well, it's canon, in and of itself...

...which Chibnall completely wrecked, and I can't imagine why. Hubris? By all accounts, he was a fan. I thought Moffat was a dick for bringing back Gallifrey, but now, to me, my disappointment then vs now is like comparing a fart to a shitstorm.

Please excuse the scatological references, but I'm using it deliberately. It is a swirling turd, which I and many others wish we could flush down and forget forever.

In another RadioTimes article - which basically is the BBC - amongst the usual apologetics, Huw Fullerton drops this little gem:

“The glory days of David Tennant et al were in a different TV landscape, and if the Tenth Doctor touched down now it seems unlikely he’d command anything close to the ratings he did over a decade ago.”

Yeah, you can all take a break to have a hearty laugh. Or throw up. Whichever. Did they just hint that, basically, the incarnation of the Doctor who continues to get as much love (if not more) than Four, who still consistently gets thousands of butts in seats in conventions worldwide, and has made the BBC hundreds of thousands of pounds sterling in merchandising “wouldn’t command the ratings he did in 2008?”

As Gary Buechler of Nerdrotic said in his response to this article: “Actually, if David Tennant had been given as many chances as Jodie Whittaker, it would’ve had Game of Thrones-level ratings.”

And I agree. Not because I’m a Tenth Doctor stan, but because it’s just ... categorically true. His seasons consistently got average rating of 7.5 to 8 million viewers - and this in a time before BBCiPlayer, so 7-day catch up ratings meant nothing. It was butts on sofas then, which, to me, speaks of a massive, sustained interest.

But Huw goes on to say that such things mean nothing. And that the huge, telling sink in both overnight and 7-day ratings between the 11th and 12th seasons, and the dismal 4.69m 7 day ratings for The Timeless Children - the lowest for a NewWho finale since its reboot - shouldn’t be taken as a loss of interest from the fandom.

Then, pray tell goodman, what does it mean? Does it mean that fans are following the Thirteenth Doctor’s adventures in spirit? Ratings are tanking. Outside of the precious few who blindly tweet and write articles about the show solely based on its now female protagonist, people are notoriously furious, especially after the execrable season finale.

Yet BBC’s Piers Wenger, who once produced the show, says “I don’t think it’s been in better health, editorially. I think it’s fantastic and I think that, the production values obviously have never been better.”

Right. Okay. So, putting Tom Ford makeup on a pig makes it haute couture, huh? The writing is appalling, and after two excruciatingly painful to watch seasons, the Doctor has failed to appear - all I’ve seen is borderline sociopathic navel gazing from an ‘alien’ wearing a pastel duster.

How dare you besmirch the unfailingly cool reputation of the long coat, Chibnall? Jodie? How?? 

I will not let someone piss on my head and call it rain ... ‘because it’s a woman.’ Assuming I’ll accept it just adds insult to injury. Who do they think we are, as female fans? I will not cosign garbage to further an agenda that is ultimately damaging one of my favorite things ever, Doctor Who. I agree that politics, and a positive moral, have always been a part of DW, but at it’s best the writing was so good that it only added to the entertainment. Now, the BBC is feeding us all the bitter pill, without the kindness to hide it in a piece of tasty cheese. It gives the impression that they believe we are already so indoctrinated that we no longer need artifice!

Well, not only am I not indoctrinated, but I refuse to ingest.

I refuse to allow people to silence me because the Doctor is now a woman, and so am I. That, I shouldn’t say anything, or complain, because it’s an act of rebellion on womankind, not only in entertainment, but in general. Well, to that I say ... er ... I disavow.

Disavow. Disavow.

And this from a woman who once criticized Peter Davison for saying that casting a woman was “a vital loss of a role model for boys,” taking it as a sexist comment when in truth, it was just a relevant narrative concern about gender-swapping the traditionally male-presenting Time Lord. Just changing a character from male to female doesn’t do anything but demonstrate a tone-deafness about the emotional and physical differences between men and women, which exist whether we want to address them or not. This is why genderswap reboots are terrible. They are trying to further the feminist agenda, while surreptitiously painting traditional, every day femininity as weakness, and something to be avoided at all costs. I reject the modern Hollywood representation of what a ‘strong woman’ is meant to be. I can be clever, yet sensitive enough to comfort a friend when they confide their fears about a cancer relapse. I can be funny, and not at the expense of the man in the room. I can be brave, but not at the expense of my friends. The mind boggles as to why they thought their current tack with the Doctor was going to be any good. The Doctor is a woman, but more importantly, she’s a Timelord. Where are they? Is the alien that we’ve known and loved for the last 60 years truly gone away, and Thirteen is from a whole different timeline? If so, I don’t want to know her. 

And it breaks my heart.

Why continue to support a corporation who thinks of me, the fan, as no more than a heartless, thoughtless consumer? A drone? A sheep who has no conscious idea of what I like or need?

I’m done. It’s been two seasons of absolute dreck, with absolutely no sign of a course-correction due to the overwhelmingly negative response. I may be many things, but I’m no masochist - even in the name of love. And Chibnall, knowing that many fans would go back to the classic stories to cleanse ourselves, went back to the beginning and took a giant shit there too. 

Oh, the cleverness! the absolute schadenfreude of not only tampering, but rewriting the Doctor’s origins! I suppose that tells me he truly was once a fan. But no longer. Even if it turns out that the Master is as full of crap as Chibnall and it’s all an orchestrated lie, I don’t care anymore. Every inexplicable, terrible thing that happened before has already exhausted my patience with the narrative.

As veteral DW writer and script editor Terrance Dicks said:

If you’re concentrating on putting forth a political message, rather than on doing a really good show, I think there is a danger, maybe, you can do both but it would be hellish difficult, and I think that there’s maybe a danger that the show wouldn’t as be as good as it could or should be, because you’re not looking at the right aims.”

It seems like all that has been lost in time. Big corporations are buying up beloved science fiction properties, and systematically destroying them by trying to mix their politics into the mythos. [see ‘the fandom menace’]

I say, don’t support things that make you unhappy, in the name of nostalgia. That’s how they continue to upset us, while lining their pockets with our hard earned money. Complaining amongst ourselves, writing emails, or making angry Youtube videos no longer works anyway. Now is the time to just ... let it go. No more special edition DVDs, novelizations, or pretty action figures. Hit them in the pocketbook. We will still have fond memories of better times. I will not let them hijack, retcon, and retool them too.

There is a telling paragraph hidden in the depths of the article, which makes my DW fangirl sink:

It’s not as simple as “the ratings are down so Doctor Who will be cancelled,” as for the publicly-funded BBC there’s an interesting question about exactly what ratings are for beyond bragging rights. Obviously they need to make TV that people want to watch – but which people?

Not us, Huw. That’s who.

#dw #doctor who #doctor who season 12 #doctor who season finale #tenth doctor #dw negativity #the timeless children #or as I call it: #the timeless sham #issa no from me dawg #that little comment about dt really made me snort #i really hope he heard about it and had a long knee-slapping laugh #oh dear #the bbc really are deluded #they are truly drinking a koolaid whose potency boggles the mind #like can they see how off the mark they are? #do they have friends?