#i freak out over his role announcements literally every time i see them even if i have no fuckin idea who hes playing

[lostxmelody]

i will never be able to put into words how amazing it is to have hanae natsuki play mikoto

#milgram #im actually this guys biggest fan #i freak out over his role announcements literally every time i see them even if i have no fuckin idea who hes playing #im just happy hes getting roles man #such a phenomenal voice actor #i get so sad whenever hes doing sad scenes because just hearing his voice sound heartbroken makes ME heartbroken #doesnt matter how dogshit the rest of the series was #if a hanae natsuki character is sad then IM sad #im emotionally deranged over mikoto. as u can imagine #lxm textposts #also in case anyone doesnt know he has a youtube channel #and its the funniest fucking thing ever because he only plays horror games #and the other day he posted a lethal company video and its like #dude why is kayano mikoto playing lethal company LMFAO #god i wish i knew japanese i just watch these vids having absolutely no idea whats being said but i enjoy it so much anyway

[whoreforlarrystuff]

Let me start with saying that am a larrie.. this year the concept of them together seems for fetched and feels like people are trying really hard in proving and linking HL when in reality nothing has indicated that being true.. blue green outfits mean literally nothing at this point.. i sometimes feel like they do that to fuel the hl drama and they know that they just need to combine 2 colours and larries run with it. It is like they are gaining more by doing less.. see even how pleasing is kind of using it to market. They know that even to criticize larries share their product in which harry is involved with his own interest .. I never understood why with the years worth of content others call larries delusional but these days I feel like may be it is true.. we are very quick to say that any women h is seen with as stunt.. men he is seen with are just friends or team members. You don't bring a personal trainer to every show and even if you are crazy to be in shape because now h has got world attention at more higher level or because he wants be fit enough to perform at that level but you don't keep them in the vip area or bring them to grammy or sing to them or bring them for lunch with family & friends, look for them during performance unlike how you treat your rest of the crew.. I know some are just not trying to see the point and brush it off saying he is his worker who at this point might've become his friend because of the time they spend together... and then L is running with a different group if people altogether and trying to steer clear of anything that is harry. Please don't say that it is more the reason of them being together. Nothing has stopped him doing that before... The fond look louis used to have when harry was brought up in interviews is no longer there and now it's more like let's this question related to him over.. sorry, this is long.. but H who never curses on stage atleast in the mic however his fuck you in coachella was very personal and targeted(to louis i felt) after which I've seen the shift.. cause before that louis had worn Maison shirt, white purple checked shirt, you are home page had put coordinates pointing to louis.. But after coachella it has been different(louis blocking hld which is like the famous larry account out there which i dont think he blocked because of announcement that was in the open area).. at this point I feel like HL are also using larries.. H is kind of someone who wants all parts of his fandom happy.. remember when the songs were leaked how targeted they were. Already home to larries, him/trouble to haylors, complicated freak or baby honey to harries?? So yea at this point HL being together is more like a concept which they and their team are using to make money. May be they also does not want to reminded of eachother just like in case of any exes.. but them being in this profession and having a relentless fanbase who are hell bent on proving them being together they just don't wanna add any fuel anymore.. I know it's not your responsibility to convince me or others and one can keep believing what feels right..

Hi Love!

I feel like every time we get a new stunt, I see lots of people being like “oh, maybe this time it’s real” etc.

In regards to Brad being at the show. While I fully agree that H doesn’t *need* his personal trainer with him, some people like to work out with others / have a better work out when working out with others. I’ve said before I don’t totally know what Brads role is for H- sometimes it seems like he’s security in a way? It’s also possible they’re friends, and you would want your friends at shows? The Brad situation is one that I honestly feel like people pay too much attention to, and it’s made it more of a thing than it ever was.

I think at this point, the Blue/Greening isn’t so much of a signal/way of telling us something as it is a “we know you know we know” kinda thing? I agree that Pleasing seems to Larrie Bait a bit- especially with the smiley face on the nails.

Couples are allowed to have different friends- and Louis is very clearly close with his tour group, and from everything he has said/done, they’re like a family to him.

I think if they were truly exs, we wouldn’t get the bluegreening, we wouldn’t get pleasing posting Larry related things etc.

I’ve often found that H & L will do something, and we won’t discover the true extent of why until much later.

I’m not sure I’ve hit all of the points in your ask, but I’m about to leave for work, so I wanted to at least answer some of them!

#harry styles #louis tomlinson #larry stylinson #larry

[blueink2k]

Propaganda in Death Note and How It Played Into Light’s God Complex

[This is based on information from the anime, as I have yet to read the manga for myself. Caps from or references to the manga may be included to emphasize points or provide visuals, but the version of the plot I'm referring to is taken from the anime.]

Light Yagami does not pick up the Death Note knowing he’s going to use it to commit mass murder and become the God of his New World.

Actually, he does the opposite. He kills someone to test it as he’s under the impression it isn’t real, convinces himself it was a freak coincidence, and decides to try it out in a way that will provide a more concrete conclusion. When it does end up working he’s stunned, to say the least.

“I killed them both...I killed two men. Those were human lives. I-It won’t be overlooked. Besides, who am I to pass judgment on others?”

Light Yagami, the perfect, straight-A, model student, has just confirmed he killed two people using some strange supernatural notebook that just happened to fall into his hands. He’s always believed strongly in his morals. He’s been on course his whole life to join the police force like his father an deliver justice, and here he is, an indirect murderer. 

So what does he do about it?

...He comes up with a reason to justify himself. 

The people he killed were criminals. Mere scum who do nothing but rot and infect the world. Wouldn’t everyone be better off without them? It isn’t that he’s never considered this before, he has, albeit not to the same degree as taking their deaths into his own hands. But now that he has the power to do so, why shouldn’t he? He’s smart, he’s determined. He’s capable of it.

In fact, in his mind, he’s the only one who is.

He’s kind of right. He’s the top of his class, he comes out on top in national tests, he barely even has to try. Plus, he’s the only one that has a Death Note, and therefore the power to do this. 

At this point in time, he doesn’t consider himself a god. He doesn’t want to rule the world, he just wants to change it. Something else important to note is that he doesn’t refer to himself as Kira or anything other than Light. 

...That is, until...

Websites start popping up all over claiming that whoever this mass murderer is is named “Kira”, a god among men risen to punish criminals and save the world.

Two things to note here;

Apparently, “Kira” is returning, meaning there must have been some kind of previous belief in an entity that either did something similar to Light or had the same beliefs. There isn’t any other canon mention of a previous Kira, and this in and of itself is pretty vague, but given that there’s tons of religions in real life that have never had a big breakthrough, it’s reasonable to believe this could be something similar. That, or a creepypasta. Or a cult.

Light created this understanding that he had to be the one to change the world to cope with his murders. Actually - that might be the worst way to put it, since we know how strongly he feels about justice and being given an outlet to carry out this wish of world peace just enhanced this, but nonetheless... It’s impossible to assume he’s doing all of this without even a speck of guilt. Therefore, this is the first hint of appreciation or even just acknowledgement that what he’s doing is right. 

Disregarding the first point (as interesting as I find it), this is really the first time Light is ever told what he’s doing is good. His own father - who he idolizes -considers Kira evil. His sister flat out says she hates him. Of course, this is all after Kira actually does become popular, but still, all he receives from that point on is disapproval from the people he cares the most about. The online love for Kira is all he has.

So, yeah, he probably internalizes it.

He thinks he’s doing the right thing. He thinks he’s giving others justice. He thinks he’s the only one who can do this. Others agreeing is only enhancing this. They’re the ones who call him God.

As the story progresses, Kira’s power and popularity grows. He gains direct news coverage, people begin sending him names of people to kill, his following grows. So much so, that when someone gets a Death Note and figures out that must be what he’s using, their immediate response is to find a way to contact him.

Cue Misa Amane and Sakura TV.

Sakura TV is a news program known for its unreliability. Demegawa, the director, even says he’s willing to make things up for publicity. And that’s when the Second Kira tapes arrive. 

This, however, is only the first encounter with Sakura TV.

After this, the only direct involvement the police has with it is in the Yotsuba arc, when it’s used to lure out Higuchi. Otherwise the program promotes Kira all on its own, even going so far as to create Kira’s Kingdom - half a scam for viewers’ money, half a way to get more people to see Kira as God. And it works. He gains a following of people who believe he will create a new, better world, and will even give themselves up to help him. 

An example of this following is when a mob of followers attacks the SPK under Kira’s orders. They’re so quick to join in, and are even willing to put their names and faces on TV in trust that Kira will not kill them.

All of this publicity sparks fear in the general public. People begin fearing that if they do something wrong Kira will kill them, causing crime rates to drop nearly 70% over Kira’s 6 year reign, as well as completely stopping wars.

Demegawa is eventually killed. Other news programs begin scrambling to claim the voice of Kira, topped by NHN, where we are reintroduced to Kiyomi Takada as Kira’s spokeswoman as well as one of his greatest supporters.

Light, as much as he hates Sakura TV and NHN’s depictions of Kira, uses them to his advantage as much as he can.

But really, imagine what this is all doing to him.

At the beginning, he struggled with grasping what he was doing as right. His sense of justice, righteousness, and perfectness shattered by a single notebook. But this is perfect, he figures that if he really wants to fix the world, this is one surefire way to do it. And yeah, his family hates Kira, but online he’s worshiped as God. We already know he has a pretty decent ego, and all of this is doing nothing but fueling it.

To top it all off, as he continues with his killings, his following grows. More and more people begin to support him, every single day there’s news stations upon news stations covering his story, some negative, some positive. People from all over express admiration towards him, even the President of the United States sides with him. He is literally worshiped as Kira, as God.

This all makes it sounds like his god complex starts later in the series, so to clarify; no, he does not pick up the book with plans to become God, but the second people start fueling his ego, the more twisted his ideals and motivations become. He’s the only one who can fix this rotten world. He holds the power of a god in his hands, he does what only a god can do, and everyone treats him accordingly. He is Kira, he is God.

Between websites, news programs, and his cult-like following, Light had enough attention to feed into his ego for a lifetime. He was perfect pre-Death Note. Smart, charming, set for success. There never was a time where he was particularly not narcissistic, it was just that he only felt this way inside of himself. The way he presented to others? A perfect, cool guy persona with an - in all honesty - annoying prickly jerk hiding inside. But no one ever knew this, he never let them know, and because he was always naturally successful it was more of an expectation he just met rather than surpassed, so he wasn’t consistently praised and this incredible self-esteem wasn’t propped up by anyone but himself.

To cycle back to the title of this rant-essay-analysis-whatever you’d like to call it, I want to share some examples about exactly why I even classify this news coverage and whatnot of Kira as propaganda.

Kira’s supporters cause a riot at SPK HQ under Kira’s orders and Demegawa’s direction.

Mikami providing his insight as to why he supports Kira on television, openly promoting Kira and encouraging others to join him.

Takada announces her new role as Kira’s spokesperson on NHN.

Mikami uses his power as Kira to kill members of Kira’s Kingdom, supposed followers of Kira who have been using his publicity to gain money and attention.

Most of this doesn’t exactly look like your standard propaganda posters or news story, but it does fit the overall criteria;

Information from a biased viewpoint used to promote/publicize a certain view (accepting Kira as God)

Shows exclusively positive views on Kira

Assigns Kira positive adjectives and makes him appear as good (God, savior, messenger from Hell), never considering or showing the bad

Presenting only positive statistics (Light does this in his monologue where he brings up the 70% crime rate drop, and given there’s no way he could have calculated this on his own he likely got it from one of these media sources. Not that it’s incorrect, per se, but he does fail to mention how many innocent people he’s killed in order to do this.)

Appeals to regular, everyday people by talking about how he’s doing this for the betterment of the whole world. People who are directly affected by crime are also likely positively impacted by this.

Initiates and spreads fear by explaining how Kira only attacks those who do wrong.

In the end, Light’s personal descent into his god complex, as well as his effects on the world can be attributed to many things, but it would be a crime to ignore just how big of a role news and other types of media played in this without his direct input. To think, if Light had won and overtaken the police like he was going to, he’d have absolutely no problem stepping into his shoes as God. Everyone else already set the stage, he just had to get there first.

-

This is my first Death Note analysis, so please excuse any errors, I just watched the anime for the first time and am doing my best to piece together all of the plot and especially Light’s deep characterization the best I can. If I ever read the manga or find something new, chances are this will be updated. But as for now, it’s finally finished after a week or so of procrastinating. Thank you for reading if you got this far! <3

#death note #light yagami #kira #analysis #anime analysis #rant #essay #hitoshi demegawa #do people even care enough about him to have a tag #💀 #death note anime #teru mikami #kiyomi takada #yagami light #mikami teru #takada kiyomi #long post #meta

[muffindaddystyles]

𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐃

Author note: Mention of drugs, sickness and blood (if you're not comfortable with it don't read it) . It mighty be heart warming fluffyyyyyy.

You're his kitten. No matter the consequences you're. Cause even in his anger sometimes (which's rare and it's on the silly go-to's) he still sticks to that pet name because he met you like that under the bus stop's shelter in a heavy rain offered you an umbrella (while you were huffing and puffing like a kitten annoyed with the weather), walked you home, had a tea with you and some chocolate chip cookies. Been bestfriends from that year and there isn't a red light to your guys wild adventures—but he's been having a rough time recently. Had a cruel heart shattering breakup from a relationship that he thought was a never ending dream (she brought him happiness in a weird way he couldn't put into words) indeed it tightened your chest but his happiness's most important to you. To overcome it he's been scribbling notebooks over notebooks with lyrics that screams he miss her and the sex for the most part of it. It breaks your heart.

He's usually the one to melt all over you, give you forehead kisses, cuddles you when your periods are the bitchiest, makes you brekkie if he stays a night, runs you a bath and sometimes brings you pomegranate berried candles (he lies that he got them as a gift, he's one hell of a liar). He takes care of you with so much gentleness and helps you with study after wiping your tears and reassuring you telling you how proud he's of you. It made you guilty sometimes 'cos if you'd be in camille's place. . .you'd never be able not to get jealous. She was cool with it. Fills you with another curiosity that maybe she treated it like a fling.

He was devastated. Knocking on your door feebly. Then the moment your small confused body was under his weary gaze, boom!! It crashed upon him like a pitch storm and he fell to his knees tucking his head in your armpit crying his heart out. At that moment you felt his pain radiating to you and twisting your own stomach with a dagger, it was insufferable. He gave out no-deep scrapes but not to freak your bones muttered that he lost her. Eventually his bottled up emotions seeped into hues infront of you by passing week and to your littlest of information you got to know that they didn't ended up well in some perspectives so their relationship turned out to be a downfall. So As, you do with your girlie best-friend when she have a breakup you did it with Harry too. It didn't included feral clubbing (you left that part to his mates) but watching sappy movies that could fill your ice-cream bucket once you eat it whole, doing homemade face masks, playing drunk uno and knocking on your neighbours door to run way at last, dragging his arse to museum and in all of this you ended up convincing him to adopt a kitty (she lives with you thou).

The roles have been reversed completely!

He's been living at your flat for five weeks now. It's fading his usual cheekiness and the itch to annoy you every second he gets. Instead, it's just eating, spending bits of hours with you, going out with his mates and coming back to crash at your couch padding in your room in the wee of night demanding a warm coddle from you and that his back hurts from the cruelty of that single spring popping from the leather, staying with him when he'd wrench his stomach out in the morning. He's sensitive. His heart's soft that's one of the reason he gets hurt real quick, you admire that about him and reminds him that it's one of his qualities you're totally in love with. You're gentle with him. Giving him space and time to recover. Going with him at his friend's birthday little get together not drinking at all knowing one would have to stay sober as he chugged red wine staining his hawain shirt and when he clumsily poked his pink tongue out lazily to reach for the cigarette in her hand you tugged him back into you before he'd burn his tongue with sparkles announcing it's time to head back home and he'd be a pain in arse (a beautiful one though because his antics makes you all mushy) when he pretended to steal sandwiches from the table hiding them under his shirt saying that "'m pregnant with twins and it's hard to carry them" while you dragged him outside making him wear his coat like a stubborn toddler. Making him cupcakes sometimes, playing with his fluff of curls while he reads the book she gave him. It hurts. But, it subsides down with his single amiable glance that tells you he needs you. He always had. He always will. You give him extra forehead kisses and pecks on cheek while leaving for UNI, because it's irresistible to give dust to his pouty sulk.

It's seven in the morning when he tumbled through your door (has a key, you even brought his clothes and toothbrush from his house—he even uses your strawberry scented shampoo and body wash) his nose tip blushed matching his cheeks, eyes pooling with haze and hair poking in every direction. You were studying for a class you've in an hour. When you saw his irirses blown out you arched your brow putting the cup down beside your thick book, to mingle his sadness he's experimenting different fun wild things (told you bout it and you even called Mitch to take care of him).

"How many am I, pet?" You asked walking towards him seeing him struggle to get out of his vans and your giggles echoed into coldness when he peers down at your crouched state with his gold fish-y eyes, "dunno. . . but ye'r seem like. .like a-a sunflower floatin' in me head." His lips molding around his each word agonisingly slow drawl and his voice hoarse and scratchy. "You need rest, bambi." You got him out of his jeans and socks knowing he despises to sleep with layers on. "I'll be back with you in some hours. Hmm? Then we'll snuggle into blankets, you me and. . .salsa the pussy cat." You have to control your laugh everytime you take the kitty's name (Harry's worst at giving names you were horrified when he once joked that he loves chelsea boots so much he could name his daughter Chelsea) He whines at that nodding his head but not loosening his grip from around your wrist while you tucked him under your baby green patch work quilt. It's like his brain and heart can't decide how to choose.

On your way back you got Jeff's call asking why Harry isn't picking his phone his own voice resembling that of Harry's and you know he'd be looking shit at the time. Harry was still snoring out like a bulb in bright day on his tummy and you shook him gently at first but when he didn't woke up you had to be a bit harsher. "Harry wake up pet. . . Jeff's been calling ye for since." But, not even a hum in response so you placed your finger under his nose checking if he's even alive. Gratefully he was just sleeping like a literal corpse (he argues that he isn't that bad of a sleeper but in fact he is. Everything around him would burn down and he wouldn't even change a side).

It was seven in the evening when you were preparing for dinner when he woke up grumpy. His nose scrunched up, lips quirked up as if he tasted something yucky and his gait jello. You eyed him quietly even when he came in kitchen to drink water.

"Jeff was callin'. . ." You quipped stirring the veggies before pouring soup into a bowl and sliding it his way on the counter, "I know bombarded me phone with calls—" He gruffed spooning a mouthful and you flinched when he tried to cool it inside his mouth with "hawahhoohaha" little sounds (he knew it was hot, he's just an impatient leech).

"Stop being a gremlin. He told me ye' aren't writing, leaving everything like a cliffhanger neither you're attending the meetings he calls you at. . . I think you're done with your mourning it's time to do what you actually love and is there for you. Your music." You frown seriously trying to put some senses into his forever high brain. He drops the spoon back and dips his brows frustratedly, pinching his eyes shut.

"Fuckin' hell. Stop being my mama!" It's not the first time you guys are arguing and you're not gonna take it to heart. You stood up towering him and jabbing your finger to his chest, "you better stop filling your system with drugs before eighteen year olds come to you thinking you're a drug dealer—" He snickers at that a total mocking one (you know he's doing nothing hard it's just shrooms in the safe environment otherwise you'd have never never allowed him) but still you had to bring him back to his line so it was necessary. "Piss off." He mutters still slurping on his soup and you left him there with a loud smack on his head, "Wanker."

You care about him. Always did. Always will. He's the love of your life. Even your love has nourishment of just water and lacks sunshine from your sun it's still there into existence, how could you see him like this? Wasting his precious time and energy. It's impossible.

All you heard before going to deep slumber was the tinsy creak of your main door after that it was silent and darkness until now your phone buzzed under your pillow resonating Niall's tired words. You were a wreck havoc fumbling for your coat and wallet, covering pathway to tube with shivering legs hallucinating that everyone's eyeing your fiddly self with judgemental stare even though there're few.

You rushed to Niall's doorsteps knocking like a maniac, "where's he? Is he okay? told ye—" You pushed him aside marching inside to look for him. "He looked fine, he's a strong guy y/n they took him to hospital." You snaps your neck raising your brows.

"What the fuck, d'ya mean hospital!?" Your heart hammering in her ribcage overthinking the worst scenarios. "Take me there. right. fuckin' now." You tell him firmly not caring even if he's high too. Niall leads you to his car heating it up in the first beat taking glances of your petite body leaning against the glass with lips sucked in, eyes watered and legs constantly on bounce so placed his hand atop your knee giving you reassuring squeeze and a genial smile.

Your pink cheeks warming up with the heat of hospital radiating your way and loud growl left your chest when your blurry vision cleared to the sight of dishelved Harry sitting on the bench outside of ER, his irirses weary, mouth stuffed with cotton and has few scratches of rashes on his elbows otherwise he's fine. With each step of yours towards him something kept breaking inside you like you're walking on the nails and it's ripping you raw. He raised his head timidly hearing footsteps and when his eyes fell over your worried state panic flashed over his features and his only gaze turned you a puddling emitting heavy sobs within you before reaching towards him. The reality of situation dawning upon you because from what Niall told you in the car that they were high trying to have some fun, drove around neighbour hood and Harry jumped out of the window and bit his tongue between his teeth resulting in heavy bleeding a deep gnash (the fuckin' dumbstick he is).

"I hate you. I hate you so fuckin' much! you bastard." You tried to shout at him but the voice that came out of your mouth was that of mice as you threw harsh blows at his chest, bottom lip jutting wet and salty tears tricking down. He wraps his hand around your wrists ushering you closer down to his chest speaking muffled, "'orry." causing you to grunt angrily into the crook of his neck.

"Sorry my ass!" When you tried to pull back he tightened his hold round your neck snuggling you warmly to him with a hum. Jeff came back with medicines and when he parted his lips to speak in his defence you ignored him wiping your tears with the heel of your palms muttering a, "I hate you guys." The drive back was silent and the walk to your flat too, you passed by him to lock yourself into your room (you wouldn't because of the fact you wouldn't be able to sleep if not sure he's okay few feets away from you). When Harry attempted to roll his tongue to make some words nothing came out but a hiss making you spin, "'s okay we'll speak in the mornin'." Saying this you headed to bed and when you were bout to turn the lamp off he was lurking at the foot of your bed with a pillow in his arms smushing his face into it and squeezing it close to his chest gesticulating you that he wants a cuddle.

"Only 'cos y're adorable." You muttered moving your bum to make space for him suppressing your cooe when he grinned showing nothing but snow cotton, fuckin' hell being this cute should be illegal! He snapped his finger to call Salsa and she instantly galloped to shrink into his side while you spooned him. You woke up to the running tap and the time you were stretching under your quilt with yawns he padded out looking healed than last night.

He got a little lisp as he spoke, "can we talk?" You nodded knuckling at your sticky eyes criss-crossing your legs. "'Forgive me kitten." He continues, "sorry fo' mistreatin' ye' last night." You shake your head not realizing tears are dropping down your collarbones.

"Please. . .I don't wanna be a party-pooper in your life. you can live your life to finest but not at the sake of your life Harry– and. . . and if you're trying to invade the feelin' of sadness with all of this I don't approve it. What bout me? dunno what'll do if somethin' will happen to you, pet. S'not fair to me. is it? Just. . . love y—" your confessions cameflouging with sobs.

"Oh baby. ." He immediately cradled you in his embrace trying to soothe you with 'sorrys' and 'I'll never do somethin' like that again, promise'. Smooching slobery kisses all over your face and when you gazed up at him attracting him closer to your clean warm features all he did was peck the corner of your lips tenderly pulling away to pat your hair with a sigh.

"So. . .ye' love me." He teased you and you rolled your eyes grabbing his chin with your fingers, "show me your tongue." biting down your laugh when he retorted misheviously, "hmm. Wanna kiss it better?" Blowing him off with a remark that he's an utter pervert hiding the fact it splashed crimson to your neck.

"Mind makin' me poor self some brekkie?" He pouts and you giggled pecking the corner of his burgundy lips getting a timid smile in return, "in trade of?" He hip-checked you straddling Salsa over his shoulder and grabbing her little paws to expertise her in some dancey-dance moves.

"Mind bloggin' orgasm–ique dinner." He cackled loudly at the end when you shook your head in fake disappointment at him and he clinged by your side helping you to make some breakfast.

Think so you guys will figure it out.

#harry styles #cute harry #harry styles blurb #hsh #fluff #harry angst #harry smut #harry styles smut #dom harry #harry styles fanfiction #naughty harry #harry #harry × y/n #solo harry #harry x reader #harry dirty one shots #harry styles dirty imagine #fanfic #harry styles fanfic #harry fanfic #harry art

[unlikelyempathpruneauthor]

It For Me Part 2  mob!Harry x mob!Reader

Summary: after getting kidnapped by an enemy of the hollands, a plan of yours has risen and gets into action.

A/N: here is part 2, school kinda changed for me so that's why I didn't post it the day after part 1 was posted but here you go! I tagged those who liked and reblogged and those who asked to be tagged.

<<<<Previous Part | Next Part>>>>>

TW: uhhh, abduction or kidnapping? idk but some sort of that. mafia stuff, seducing bad guy?

As you felt you were being tied up to a chair with a bag over your head which was taken off and you had no idea where you were. Just then a big light flashed and you had seen who was right in front of you. Bernard “Mad dog” gledati. One of the dirtiest and young mobsters ever to live. No one ever worked with him, he was dirty and stole money, you knew he was one of dominics enemies and you didn't think you would meet him ever.

“Ahh, Bernard, why am i tied up?” you said trying to reach your bump to see if anything was wrong but all he did was he scoff.

“Ah darling, you know why, your father works for me and he sent you to a holland? I'm quite surprised because the hollands are also a long time enemy and they even got you pregnant huh.” he said as you smirked as he got close to your face you could feel his breath. The guards behind him untied your hands and they went straight to your bump making sure you were okay, Bernie saw your worry and chuckled.

“Darling you know i'm not a baby killer, your baby is fine, i got the nurses to check up on you,” he said as your body sighed in relief.

“Why am i here bernie?” you said getting straight to the point not wanting to be here with him a second longer.

“Well since you asked so politely i need something from you since i helped you out here with your child.” he said as he got close but this time with his gun trailing over your body and onto your bump. You knew he wouldn't hurt you but you were starting to question it, you had to do whatever to keep your baby safe, but there was a limit to what you could do.

“Depends on what it is.” you said very seducing as he licked his lips.

“Well you're not gonna like it,” he said as you frowned and placed your hand over you belly and you looked at him with your “innocent” eyes, but you knew what was up next, but you had to make sure they wouldn't do anything to your baby, they weren't apart of this part of your world.

….

Once Tom and Harrison got their consciousness back they quickly got out of the car hoping you got out to call harry or someone about the accident, but you were nowhere to be seen. Harrison was pretty freaked out with what just happened and Tom called his father telling him exactly what happened.

“S-shit…” Haz said as he realized one of the security cameras from the house were there and  he knew it would have caught everything. He also noticed there was a note near the camera. He picked it up and it said..

               You know who I am and everyone else will know too.

“Tom, look at this.” he said, getting Tom's attention and he too had realized who it was.

They all quickly went back to the house and Harry had been waiting for you to come back and when he realised you weren't with them he swore he was about to punch one of them.

“Where is y/n? Paddy told me she was with you guys and to get ice cream, really? You let my wife go get ice cream in a store, where someone could have seen her?!” he said screaming at them, he had every right to and well he was gonna scream more for what they were about to say. Harry felt their feelings of regret, they both wished they sent someone else, but you were a tough, independent woman..

“Harry, you need to sit down, please.'' Tom said as Harry did as he said and was quite confused and angry that they weren't able to tell him an answer about you.

“What the hell happened?” Harry said, getting impatient.

When they told Harry about you, he didn't even break down, he was just upset with both of them not letting them explain what had happened.

“Tom she's pregnant, Pregnant! Those mobsters will literally do anything to her, you should have talked to me first god damnit,” he said as he left those two and was on the way to find you and get you back.

Harry knew if anything happened to you it would be all his fault, that day he didn't do his hourly check on you and he kicked himself for not doing so. He knew you were strong, but since you got pregnant you had gotten a little more sensitive, he knew how the mafia men acted and he just wanted to find you fast and get you and your baby home. He swore at himself even more about not telling you his feelings towards you, he knew as soon as he saw you he would tell you or well show you. As he calmed himself down so he was stable to find you and everyone was doing their part to look for you, Dominic knew who planned the ambush and he felt quite guilty for it, but he knew he could apologise when they found you. When everyone was ready to set a plan, something was sent to Tom's phone. A video file. He had shown his dad and they had started playing it on the big screen they had.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

You had appeared as a light had been turned on, you had no bruises on you, you looked fine, you had your hand over your belly as you looked up at Bernie as you also looked at the camera, you knew this would be sent to them so you know you could get your plan out to them, you knew harry would understand it.

“Look y/n, i just need a favor that's all because i know all this, the marriage the pregnancy was planned, your father is a huge idiot, but i know your not, so tell me, everything about them, so i can ruin them.” he said as you continued to laugh.

Knowing that you were not hurt got everyone in relief, but the way you would look at Bernie was just a way to keep you alive. Harry knew that none of the things you said here that were seductive to him were real feelings, your mother had taught you well.

You moved around the chair as you looked at the camera and at him.

“Bernie, I know nothing, they didn't even let me touch a damn cup and if a part of me wanted to be with you it would have,” you said smiling at him as he just walked around you and his hand trailed around your jaw.

“Really, well then let just ruin him and his family, we can do it together.” he said as you looked up at him in all seriousness. You looked back down at your belly and shook your head.

“Well I don't know if i could do that,” you said as his grip on your jaw got harder and he leaned in to give you a harsh kiss. You wish you could have wiped your face, but you had to play your part.

“Fine, i'll tell you, they have this thing, filled with everything you can think of, the buried bakersfield cash, jewels, you name it, even that good stuff you like to fill your nose with and a list, it's pretty important by the way..” you said as he was attracted to what you had said and leaned in closer.

“What is she talking about?” Tom looked over at Harry as he shrugged trying to remember if you had mentioned something like this..

“I don't know Tom, I d-don't know...” he said as Harrison chipped in.

“She might still have her gun Harry what if she's planning to attack them herself.” harrison said as they continued to watch.

“Really, and what is the list.” he asked as you looked up knowing this trick was working.

“Well I can't really tell you that until you know i'm safe.” you said as he grew mad and you knew that would happen so you just gave in.

“You're no fun...Fine i'll tell, it's a list of every manufacturer and business they have owned and will own you know its just a stupid list.” you said as he was loving every word you had said. The list was key to business and well money.

“I know what she's talking about.” Harry said as they all looked at him surprised he knew this conversation well he just didn't think he would be doing that plan now.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

You two were late night talking about plans about your arrangement basically, you assumed this is what real couples would talk about just mafia style. This was short after you two had announced your relationship and when you two were just starting out to be best friends. These plans were not concrete then, but your “relationship” got more serious these things needed to be talked about, but Harry’s main priority was you and he wanted to know if you had a plan or not because he would have helped you with that.

“Okay if something would happen to me, there is this plan, I have the bakersfield cash clean, and i have other cash that is pretty dirty. So whoever has me you give them the dirty money, there's also a list, which looks legit, but it's actually companies that have been closed down or owned by an enemy of ours, also fake jewels and you know things that mafia men love, but before hand i will tell them about first then they get it.” you said as Harry laughed, admiring your plan. He thought you were the smartest and he wished he could just say his feelings but even the biggest mafia men are the pussiest, if that's even a word.

“Well that is very well sorted, how did you even think of it?” he asked as you smiled.

“Well my mom was killed by the enemy and there was no plan, so i suggested this incase of me to my father, and well now you know and so will your brothers and your father soon.” you said as he nodded.

“Oh right...I'm sorry about your mum.” he said as you shrugged.

“Don’t worry about it, it was years ago, but she was the best mom ever and she was my role model of what a person should be.” you said as Harry nodded and gave you a half smile.

“What was she like?” he asked as you smiled and continued to talk about your mom.

Your mom was everything to you and Harry was able to see that. You honestly don't know where you would be without the small moments you had with your mother. You hoped one day you would be like her when you had kids.That night Harry had hoped this plan would never be set ever, he couldn't lose you that quick, you meant everything to him even if he didn't show it because he was scared to.

Who knew that it would happen today...

Taglist:

 @chumhandle101 @frenchquackson @ohmy-moonlightx @chanteeeeeee @osterfieldshollandgirl @sleepybesson @itshimz @howdycharlie @carrrieanne @hushberry @amandameeeh @rainypersonmuffinnerd @sizzlingoafeggsegg @atomicstudentlover-stuff @lavenderhollandx @lonelyforeverself @imcalledjasmijn @robertpattinson-th @aquawomxn @euphorichxlland

#harry holland #harry holland x yn #harry holland x you #harry holland fic #harry holland x reader #harry holland imagine

[btsqualityy]

Scripted: Part 15

Namjoon x Reader; Jimin x Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, President!Namjoon, Head of Security!Jimin

Warnings: (Reluctant) open relationship, mentions of cheating, mentions of a miscarriage, descriptions of violence and injuries 

“Clear the way people! Move now!!” Jimin shouted with authority as he ran alongside the stretcher that Namjoon was laid out on, you following close behind with a flurry of security flanking you. Once you all made it into the hospital, doctors came from what seemed like every direction to work on Namjoon while Jimin worked on locking down the hospital to keep it safe.

“You’re ok Joon, you’re ok,” you whispered to him when you heard a loud groan escape his throat. You figured that he was in pain from both the bullets inside of him and from whatever the doctors were doing to him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look down at his chest. 

“Ok, he’s stable but it’s touch and go so we’re gonna have to get him into surgery now!” One of the doctors exclaimed. 

“First Lady Kim, you’re gonna wanna back up,” one of the nurses said to you and you nodded, standing up straight and backing up slightly but still holding onto Namjoon’s hand. The team of doctors counted to three before they all lifted the sheet that Namjoon was laying on and moved his body onto a hospital bed. 

“Y/N, you have to let him go,” Jimin said as he walked up behind you, gently taking ahold of your arm but you shook your head rapidly.

“I can’t leave him!” You exclaimed. 

“He has to go into surgery, he’ll be fine,” Jimin assured you, trying to pry you away from Namjoon but you just clutched onto his hand tighter.

“First Lady Kim, we’ll come tell you as soon as we have any news,” a doctor assured you. “But he needs to get into surgery right away.”

“...Ok,” you relented, fresh tears falling down your cheeks as you looked down at Namjoon and released his hand. You watched tearfully as the doctors and nurses swiftly wheeled the bed that Namjoon was on down the hallway, disappearing behind double doors that read ‘Only Medical Personnel Beyond This Point’. 

“Come on, we’ll wait in the waiting room,” Jimin said as he wrapped one arm around your waist and you leaned into him as he led you away from the blood-spattered ER.

Just as the two of you were about to head into the waiting room, you heard a flurry of commotion near the door and when you looked up, your eyes widened as it seemed like all of your worst fears were coming true.

“No,” you whispered, your head starting to hurt from how much this night was turning into a literal nightmare.  

“Oh my God,” Jimin whispered in shock and you broke out of his arms as you ran towards the door, almost colliding with the stretcher that Momo was laid out on. 

“Mo, are you ok?!” You screamed, the very sight of your best friend on a stretcher effectively freaking you out.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I promise,” she swore, holding up her left arm, which had a thick bandage wrapped around it. “I got hit by one of the bullets when it ricocheted off of the railing of the staircase but it’s a shallow wound.”

“Thank God,” you muttered, throwing your arms around her in a hug, which she returned happily.

“How’s Namjoon?” She questioned and the emergency worker who had been pushing the stretcher that Momo was on started to move again, so you walked with them.   

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “When we got here, the doctors stabilized him but he’s in really bad shape and they basically moved him into surgery as soon as they were sure that he was still breathing.” The emergency worker wheeled Momo into a free room, before bowing to you and walking out to give the two of you privacy. 

“What about Jungkook and Taehyung?” Momo asked and your eyes widened again.

“What about them?” You wondered.

“They got hit by bullets too,” Momo informed you and you couldn’t stop the gasp that slid past your lips. 

“I didn’t know that,” you said. “I was so focused on Joon, I probably didn’t even notice that they got wheeled in as well.”

“When the shooting started, I got hit and Jungkook pushed me down to try and cover me but then he got hit in the leg,” Momo recounted. “I think maybe in somewhere else too, then Taehyung tried to help the both of us and he ended up getting shot too. I’m not sure where though because I effectively passed out after that.”

“What the fuck?” You huffed in disbelief. “Do you know if anyone else is hurt?”

“Not sure,” Momo shrugged. “We were the only ones outside though, so I’m pretty sure it was only us.”

“I’m so sorry that you got caught in the literal crossfire,” you apologized and Momo shook her head instantly.

“Not your fault,” she said sternly. “It’s just some fucking psycho, nothing to do with you.”

“But still,” you shrugged and just before Momo could respond, a doctor stepped into the room. 

“I’m sorry First Lady Kim, but we need to work on extracting some bullet fragments from Ms. Hirai,” she said. 

“Of course,” you nodded before looking back at Momo. “I’ll be back to check on you.”

“Alright, and see if you can find out any updates on Jungkook, please?” She requested and you smiled softly.

“You know it,” you told her, leaning over and kissing her cheek before stepping out of the room. Once you were back out in the hallway, there was still the buzz of activity going on and you found yourself suddenly feeling faint as the reality of everything that had happened in the past hour began to set in. However, like the angel he is, Jimin was by your side in a second.

“Hey, you ok?” He wondered and you shook your head. 

“Feeling a little dizzy,” you admitted and Jimin’s eyes widened.

“You haven’t eaten since this morning before we left my place, have you?” He wondered and you shook your head. “Let’s go get you some water and a candy bar then, yeah?”

.................................................

About two hours later, you were sat in the waiting room with Jimin, still in your blood-stained dress with Jimin’s suit jacket hanging from your shoulders. Namjoon was still surgery as far as you knew, Momo was under anesthesia from getting the bullet pieces out of her arm, and you still hadn’t heard anything back on Namjoon’s, Jungkook’s or Taehyung’s conditions.

In the two hours that you had been waiting, the only thing that played in your mind was the argument that you and Namjoon had had before leaving the Blue House just a few hours ago. You couldn’t help but to be overcome with a huge sense of guilt, not for the shooting, but for how you had never noticed how Namjoon felt about loosing your son. You felt careless, self-centered, and like a terrible fucking wife. 

“Hey, you alright in there?” Jimin asked and you looked over at him, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could even stop them.

“I had a miscarriage,” you blurted and Jimin’s eyes widened. 

“What? When?”

“A year ago,” you answered. “It happened a little while after Namjoon had announced his candidacy for President.”

“Do you want to maybe, talk about it?” Jimin asked cautiously and you nodded. 

“Once Namjoon decided to run for President, he was never home,” you began. “He was always at his campaign headquarters, or giving a speech, or out shaking hands with people. It was a hard adjustment for me because we went from being together all the time and being able to spend time together to seeing each other twice a month. About two months into campaigning though, I found out that I was pregnant and we were both so excited because we had always talked about having kids.”

“Keep going,” he encouraged you, reaching over and grabbing one of your hands in his. 

“One day, I was really insistent on him coming home and not working late because I was pregnant and emotional and just wanted my husband at home with me. He said that he needed to work and we ended up getting into this huge fight, and I went to bed angry at him. When I woke up, I was soaked in blood,” you said. “It was the most blood that I had ever seen in my life at once, up until tonight.”

“I’m so sorry baby bird,” he whispered, scooting closer to you and wrapping his free arm around your shoulders. 

“You know how Namjoon and I were arguing before we left the Blue House?” You wondered, knowing that he had probably heard the shouting and Jimin nodded. “Namjoon cheated that first time with Hyejin because after I had the miscarriage, I treated him like shit.”

“That’s no excuse for him to just go off and cheat on you though,” Jimin pointed out. 

“I know but it just all makes so much fucking sense now,” you huffed. “I pushed Namjoon away in order to cope with my grief, all while being oblivious to the fact that he was grieving too. It took years for Namjoon to really trust me and to trust our relationship and to trust the fact that he wasn’t going to have to leave me like he had to leave Hyejin, and I ruined all of that in a second.”

“You can’t blame yourself for all that’s happened between the two of you.”

“I’m not,” you assured him. “But I am realizing just how big of a role I played in all of this. I started it by hurting Namjoon, then he hurt me by cheating with Hyejin, then I hurt him again by telling him that our marriage would be a marriage in name only once we decided to do the arrangement when I knew full well that he was trying his best to earn my forgiveness back, and he hurt me by starting to sleep with other women once our marriage was open. It’s been a vicious ass cycle of us just hurting each other over and over again, and I feel fucking guilty that I let it go on this long. Now, he’s on an operating table with fucking bullet holes in his chest and his last words to me were ‘Fine’ in response to me saying that I really do want a fucking divorce!”

“Ok stop, you have to calm down,” Jimin told you firmly, pulling you into a tight hug and holding you there as you wrapped your arms around him as well. “Match my breathing.” You did so, taking slow and deep inhales before letting them out again. The two of you continued this for a few minutes, until your breathing returned to normal again. 

“I’m sorry for springing all of that on you,” you muttered against his shoulder and you felt him shake his head.

“Don’t be sorry baby, I know it’s a lot going on right now and you’re handling it the best that you can,” Jimin replied. You opened your eyes and saw a doctor walking into the waiting room, making you immediately let go of Jimin and stand up. Jimin did the same, the both of you turning to face the doctor.

“First Lady Kim,” the doctor said, bowing to you. “I’m Dr. Song.”

“Hello,” you greeted him. “How’s Namjoon?”

“President Kim’s injuries are just as bad as we anticipated them to be, if not worse,” Dr. Song announced grimly. “He lost a lot of blood, and the bullets did extensive damage to his chest cavity. As a result, he’s now in a coma.”

“A coma?” You squeaked. “And how long is that going to last?”

“Well, only time can tell,” Dr. Song shrugged. “We were able to get all of the bullets out but the damage is so bad that his body just cannot handle extended surgery right now so although we know that the damage was bad, we aren’t exactly sure to what extent and that makes it hard to estimate.” 

“Oh, what about Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook?” You asked and the doctor grimaced.

“Mr. Jeon was hit in the leg and although it’s pretty bad from what I heard, he’ll be fine with some intensive physical therapy in order to regain full, functional use of his left leg,” Dr. Song said. “As for Kim Taehyung, his injuries were a bit more extensive.”

“How much more extensive?” Jimin spoke up. 

“He was hit in the shoulder and in the stomach, which are two particularly dangerous places to be shot in,” Dr. Song replied. “He’s still in surgery as of right now, but he was stable when he was brought in.”

“Thank you so much, Dr. Song,” you thanked him and he just nodded softly.

“As soon as I find out any more news on the three of them, you’ll be the first person to know,” Dr. Song assured you and you smiled softly as he bowed again before turning and walking out of the waiting room. You then turned back to Jimin, fresh tears falling from your eyes again and Jimin just held his arms open, allowing you to follow into them.

“This is like a nightmare,” you sobbed, making Jimin just wrap his arms tighter around you.

.................................................

“Y/N-ah, I know that you’re upset but don’t make a dumb decision,” Yoongi spat as he paced in front of you, and you looked up at him with a glare.

“All I wanna do is make a statement to the press about Namjoon’s, Taehyung’s, Jungkook’s, and Momo’s conditions,” you said. “I didn’t realize that doing that would be counted as stupid.”

“Usually, it wouldn’t be but given the fact that someone just tried to kill your husband a few hours ago, it’s dumb,” Yoongi said and you looked over at Jimin for help, only to see him with a hard frown on his face.

“I agree,” Jimin spoke up, knowing that you were trying to get help from him. “It’s too dangerous right now, especially since we still haven’t caught whoever did it. Can’t you just release a statement through the Blue House?”

“Look, Namjoon has never shied away from anything regarding this job and since whoever did this has made it to where he can’t stand up for himself, I’m going to be the one to do it for him,” you stated firmly. 

“Y/N-,” Yoongi started to say but you cut him off. 

“Look, I’m not going to debate about this any longer. Now, either we can be smart about this and you can set up the press and Jimin can arrange proper security measures, or you can both be stupid and let me go out there alone. Either way, I’m still going out there.”

“Jimin-ssi?” Yoongi said gruffly and both of you looked over at him, seeing the internal struggle that he was going through.

“....Fine,” he finally relented and you smiled at him. “We’ll get someone up here with extra clothes for you while I go and make the necessary arrangements.”

“Thank you,” you told him and he nodded stiffly at you before getting up and walking away.

45 minutes later, you were standing near the entrance of the hospital, watching through the window as Yoongi addressed the crowd of reporters, journalists and camera people. 

“We all set?” You wondered as you turned to face Jimin and he nodded as he listened to whoever was talking to him through his earpiece.

“About one more minute,” he said as he turned to face you, reaching out and fixing the lapel of the blazer that you had changed into. “Remember Y/N, I’m giving you one minute out there to say whatever you need to say and if I so much as see someone move wrong, I’m not above running to you and dragging you back in here, got it?”

“Got it,” you nodded, a soft smile coming onto your face when Jimin leaned forward and kissed your lips lightly. 

“Alright, come on,” Jimin said, pushing open the hospital door and allowing you to walk out first. He stayed close to you, the two of you walking over to the makeshift podium that the hospital had set up outside. Yoongi lightly tapped your hand as the two of you passed each other, and you stepped up onto the podium while Jimin, Yoongi, and the rest of your security flanked the podium. 

“Thank you all for coming on such short notice and at such a late hour,” you began your statement, looking out into the crowd as you spoke into the microphone. “As I’m sure all of you are aware, my husband, President Kim Namjoon, was shot tonight as we made our way to a Children’s Benefit. While the President’s injuries are extensive, he is still alive. However, he is now in a coma as a result of his injuries and we are not sure how long it will take him to wake up as of now.”

“In addition to my husband’s injuries, my personal secretary Momo Hirai, Chief of Staff Kim Taehyung, and Minster of Economy and Finance Jeon Jungkook all sustained injuries in the shooting as well. Now, any questions?” All of the reporters and journalists hands went up in the air and you randomly pointed to a small woman in the front. “Yes?”

“What is the extent of both Minster Jeon’s and Chief of Staff Kim’s injuries?” She questioned. “From the footage that exists, it looked like they were both injured pretty badly.”

“For privacy reasons, I am not allowed to disclose that information as their families are still being contacted and notified,” you said, pointing to a man in the back who had his hand up. 

“As President Kim will be presumably be out of commission for a while, even after waking up from this coma, do you think he’ll resume his Presidential duties?” He asked.

“Well, I can’t exactly say. However, I do know that serving our great country and the people that live in it has been my husband’s greatest mission in life so I think even if he can’t resume his duties as soon as he wakes up, Prime Minster Min has his full confidence.”

“And you?” Another reported spoke up. “Does he have your full confidence?”

“Absolutely,” you nodded. “Prime Minster Min was endorsed personally by my husband and they share the same sense of duty so I believe that our country will be in great hands while my husband recovers. Now, one last question.” You said as you pointed towards a middle aged man that stood near the middle of the crowd. 

“In regards to the people who did this, what do you want to happen to them once they are caught?” He wondered. “I only ask because your husband has notoriously been against death sentences and I’d like to know your thoughts.” You tilted your head to the side lightly, thinking about the question for a few seconds.

“I hope that they burn in hell,” you smiled, a flurry of sound coming from the crowd and an increase of camera flashes started to happen. “No further questions.”

.................................................

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[whitehotharlots]

Previewing the 2024 Democrat Primary

Within a couple weeks of his being sworn in, just about every person on earth will wish Joe Biden was no longer president. Sure, the few surviving John B. Anderson voters will be thrilled to see 4 years of crushing austerity and half-assed attempts at Keynesian stimulus. But most people will begin dreaming about a brighter future.

Good news! The 2024 Democratic primary field is going to contain dozens of options. Bad news! They are all going to be disgusting piles of shit. 

The “top tier”

While it’s too early to do any handicapping, these are the candidates the media will treat as having the most realistic chances of securing the nomination. 

Kamala Harris

Kamala did not win a single primary delegate in 2020. This is because she dropped out before the first primary, and that was because no one likes her. She has no base beyond a few thousand of twitter’s most violent psychos. Her disingenuousness approaches John Edwards levels: any halfway incredulous person can see immediately beyond her bullshit. She has no principles whatsoever, and while that may be par for the course for Democrats, she lacks even the basic politician’s ability to intuit anything that might, hypothetically, constitute a principle. 

Even better: she is an awful public speaker. She sounds like how a talking dog would speak if he were just caught stealing people food off the kitchen table. She communicates in weird grunts and faux sassy squeaks, which is how she imagines real black women sound like, but something about her is unable to sell the bit. She begins her sentences in halfhearted AAVE, stops and panics halfway through as she realizes that maybe this sounds fake and offensive, and then reminds herself oh wait, no, this is okay since I’m black. This doesn’t happen once or twice per speech. This is how every single sentence sounds. 

Kamala is like Nancy Pelosi in that no sketch show will ever impersonate her correctly, because anything that came close to authenticity would be considered far too cruel. This might benefit her in the primaries, as she exists in the minds of Democrats as someone and something she absolutely is not in reality. Nominating her would be like allowing your child’s imaginary friend to attempt to drive you to the store. 

Andrew Cuomo

Easily one of the 50 worst people alive, Cuomo has a solid chance because Democrats, same as Republicans, are unable to differentiate between electability and self-serving ruthlessness. Cuomo used the deadliest public health crisis in American history as a pretext for cutting Medicaid and firing 5,000 MTA workers, and his approval rating increased. New York Dems are little piggies who love eating shit. If we assume that the political media will continue their habit of refusing to discuss the legislative history of right wing Democrats, Cuomo might well cruise to the nomination and then lose to literally any human being the GOP nominates by an historic margin. 

Joe Biden

The party loves him because he is a right wing racist. “Progressives” tolerate him because black primary voters over 40 supported him, and their opinion is supposedly a magic window into god’s truth. Everyone else can tell he is manifestly senile. I don’t put it above the DNC to pick a candidate who is in horrible health, dying, or even dead--whatever the financial sector wants, they’ll get. But I would be shocked if his approval rating is above 39% by mid-2023, and by that point deep fake technology will be advanced enough they’ll put out a very lifelike video in which the Max Headroom version of Joe explains he’s proud of his accomplishments--that budget’s almost balanced already--but, man, I gotta abd--I gotta abdica--, uhh, I gotta, I, uhh, I gotta move down, man. 

Wild Cards

These candidates would have all have a chance if they ran, but they could all much more easily retire to Little Saint James off of kickbacks they’ve gotten from Citibank and I.G. Farben. 

Rahm Emanuel

Rahm is going to receive some hugely influential post in the Biden administration. Let’s say he becomes Secretary of Education. His signature achievement will be replacing all elementary school teachers with Amazon’s Alexa, which saved the taxpayers so much money we were able to quadruple the number of armed police officers we put into high schools. This will give him several thousand positive profiles on network news programs and the near-universal support of the Silicon Valley vampires who will own 99% of the country by the time Biden’s term ends. They will use their fancy mind control devices to convince geriatic primary voters that Rahm’s the one who will bring Decency back to the white house. His candidacy will be the paragon of wokeness, as expressing concern toward the fact that he covered up the police murder of a black guy will get you called a racist. 

Rahm has a bonus in that Jewish men are now Schrodeniger’s PoC. When they are decent human beings, they are basic, cis white men who are stealing attention from disabled trans candidates of color. When they love austerity and apartheid, they become the most vulnerable people of color on earth and criticizing them in any way is genocide. No one will be able to mention a single thing Rahm has ever done or said without opening themselves to accusations of antisemitism, and that gives him a strong edge against the rest of the field. The good news is that an Emmanuel candidacy would result in over 50% of black voters choosing the GOP candidate--which, I guess that’s not really good but it would certainly be funny. 

Gavin Newsom

Newsom is every bit as feckless as Cuomo, but he doesn’t put off the same “bad guy in an early Steven Segal movie” vibes. He will mention climate change 50 times per speech and no one will bother to mention how he keeps signing fracking contracts even though his state is now on fire 11 months of the year. If anything, this will be spun into an argument about how he’s actually the candidate best suited to handle all the water refugees gathering on the southern border. Look for his plan to curb emissions by 10% by the year 2150 to get high marks from Sierra Club nerds. He’s also a celebate librarian’s idea of what constitutes a handsome man, so he’ll have some support from the type of women who claim to hate all men. 

Larry Summers

I mean, why not? Larry, like most members of the Obama administration, has politics that are eerily similar to those of Jordan Peterson. In normal circumstances, this makes a person a dangerous fascist who should not be platformed. But if that person has a D next to their name this makes them a realistic pragmatist who has what it takes to bring suburban bankers into our tent. If current trends in Woke Phrenology continue apace, Larry’s belief that women are inherently bad at STEM will be liberal orthodoxy by 2023, and his dedication to the Laffer Curve could see him rake in massive donations. Seriously, I’m not kidding: cultural liberalism is now fully dedicated to identity essentialism and balanced budgets. Larry is their ideal candidate. If he were black and/or a woman, I’d put him in the very top tier. 

Jay Inslee

Unlike Newsom, Inslee’s attempt to crown himself the King of Global Warming won’t be immediately derailed, since his state is only on fire because of protestors. This, however, poses a different problem. He’s going to be a good test case for the Democrat’s uneasy peace with the ever increasing share of the electorate who become catatonic upon hearing a pronoun. On the one hand, you need to take their votes for granted. On the other hand, they’re not like black people or regular gays: most voters actively, consciously despise wokies, and associating yourself with them will ruin a campaign even in deep blue areas. There’s still gonna be riots in a year. Biden’s gonna announce the sale of all our nation’s potable water to the good folks at Nestle and some trans freak named Sasha-Malia DeBalzac is going to use that as an opportunity to sell their new pamphlet about how it’s fascist to not burn down small businesses. No matter what Inslee does in response, it’ll end his career. 

AOC

I’m not one of those “AOC is a secret conservative” weirdos, but I am aware enough of basic reality to know she has zero chance of coming close to the nomination. The right and the center both regard her as a literal demon. The party is already blaming her for the fact that a handful of faceless Reagan acolytes failed to flip their suburban districts even though they ran on sensible pragmatic proposals like euthanizing the homeless. The recriminations will only get more unhinged when the Dems eat shit in the 2022 midterms. She will be a Russian, she will be white male, she will be a communist, she will be a homophobe: any insult or conspiracy theory you can name, MSNBC will spend hours discussing. Her house seat challenger will receive a record amount of support from the DNC in 2024 and it’ll be all she can do to remain in congress.

Larry Hogan

Don’t be dissuaded by the fact that he’s a Republican. Larry is the DNC’s ideal candidate: a physically repulsive conservative who owes his entire career to appealing to the most spiteful desires of suburban white people. He’s an open racist in a material sense--if you’re old-school enough to think racism is a matter of beliefs and actions, rather than the presence of cultural signifiers--but his is the beloved “never Trump” style of racism that Dems covet. He’s also a Proven Leader who thinks the role of government should be to finance the construction of investment property and give police the resources they need to run successful drug trafficking operations. Few people embody the Democrat worldview more than Larry. 

The Losers Bracket

These people will have at least a small chance due solely to the fact that the Democrats love losing. They have lost in the past, and in the Democrat Mind that makes them especially qualified.

Joe Kennedy

The man looks like a mushroom-human hybrid from a JRPG. Trump proved that physical hideousness need not doom a presidential bid, but a candidate still needs some kind of charm or oratorical abilities or, god forbid, a decent platform. Joe aggressively lacks all of these things. A vanity campaign would be a good way to raise money and perhaps secure an MSNBC gig, so Joe might still run. 

Mayor Pete 

I am 100% convinced that Pete’s 2020 run was a CIA plot meant to prevent working class Americans from ever having a chance of living decent lives. I am also 100% aware that Democrats are dumb enough to enthusiastically support a CIA plot meant to prevent working class Americans from ever having a chance of living decent lives. If we have some sort of military or terror disaster between now and 2023 the Dems are sure to want a TROOP, and wait wait wait you’re telling me this one is a gay troop? Holy hell there’s no way that could lose!

Stacy Abrams

Never underestimate the power of white guilt. She lost the gubernatorial race to Gomer Pyle’s grandson, and her spiritual guidance of the Dems saw the party lose black voters in Georgia in 2020. Nonetheless, she is regarded as a magic font of fierceness within the DNC. She might stand a chance if she can establish herself as the most conservative non-white candidate in the field, but there’s going to be stiff competition for that honor.

Elizabeth Warren

Liz is probably angry that the party so shamelessly sold her out even after she was a good little girl and sabatoged Bernie’s campaign for them--yet another example of high ranking US government officials reneging on their promises to the Native American community. Smdh. The fact that this woman hasn’t been bankrupted a dozen times over by various Wallet Inspectors genuinely astounds me. So Liz is probably going to run again, and her campaign will be even sadder the second time around. 

It might surprise you to hear this if you don’t work at a college or NGO, but Liz diehards actually do exist. She’ll get even less support this time because there will be no viable leftist in the field for her to spoil, but she’ll still hang in long enough to make sure the very worst possible candidate beats out the second worst possible candidate. Maybe she’ll fabricate a rape accusation against Sherrod Brown. Maybe she’ll spend her entire allotted debate time doing a land acknowledgment. With Liz, anything is possible--so long as it ends in failure. 

Amy Klobuchar 

Amy was the most bloodthirsty of the 2020 also rans. She will double down on the unpopular failures of the Biden administration, explaining that if you weren’t such a selfish idiot you’d love the higher social security retirement age and oh my god are so such a moron you think you shouldn’t go bankrupt to get a COVID vaccine? There’s a non-unsubstantial segment of the Democratic base that’s self-hating enough to find this appealing, but it won’t be enough to make her viable. 

Martha Coakley

She lost Ted Kennedy’s senate seat to a retarded man who was pretending to be even more retarded than he actually was. Then she lost a gubernatorial race to a guy who openly promised Massachusetts voters that he would punish them for electing him. Her record of failure is unparalleled, making her perhaps the ideal Democrat standard bearer for the twenty twenties. 

[stina-is-a-punk-rocker]

stephanie perkins: ‘anna and the french kiss’

SPOILERS AHEAD!

Then again, if you’ve read any YA book, ever, it’s fairly obvious what’s going to happen.

I was going to go easy on this book; I really was. It’s really unfair how media aimed at a female demographic is seen as frivolous and vapid, and more often than not bashed and bullied when it comes to reviews. “People actually enjoy this crap?” ask the powers that be. “It’s worthless! Pulp! Dreamy-eyed nonsense only complete nimrods could ever like!”

And I take offense to that. There’s nothing wrong with liking romance or happy endings or stories about cute European boys. I was ecstatic when I stumbled across Anna and the French Kiss upon a chance trip to the bookstore. The cover was… meh (Century Gothic? Really? There were no other fonts?). But I’d heard nothing but praise about the book, and I was prepared to stay up all night and into the wee hours of the morning to finish it.

Admittedly, I was far from impressed upon the first reading. The characters were unlikable, the plot would’ve worked better for less shitty characters, honestly fuck these characters am I supposed to like them, fuck Anna, fuck Étienne, fuck Bridgette, fuck Toph, fuck Dave and Meredith and Amanda and Seany and every other stupid character in this stupid book.

The second time around, I expected to not hate it as much as I did when I first read it. It’s happened- I hated Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda when I first read it, and when I read it again, all that red-hot anger simmered down into an overall dislike. I thought To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before was trash at first, and then I read it again, and it got promoted to recyclable waste matter.

I found Anna and the French Kiss horrendous the first time I read it, and then I read it again, and… yeah, it’s still pretty awful.

Le Sommaire:

Anna Oliphant is a seventeen-year-old wannabe film critic who is #NotLikeOtherGirls – so she’s exactly like every other female YA lead. To her credit, she never explicitly says she’s special… everyone around her does.

She has a pretty meh life in Atlanta, Georgia with her mum and little bruv Sean- and then her dad decides to ship her off to France for her final year of high school. I’m not judging Anna for bawling her eyes out on her first day; I’m a huge mummy’s girl myself and I’d probably (definitely) do the same.

Meredith is Anna’s next-door neighbor, who does that thing which only happens in YA where she’s like “Oh, newbie? Let’s be friends!” (Or maybe it does happen irl and I tend to make a bad first impression which is why no one has ever approached me.)

Meredith’s friends are: Rashmi and Josh (who are a couple), and Étienne St. Clair. Guess which one is the love interest.

Étienne is cultured in that white person way where he’s half American, one quarter French and one quarter British. A true international.

But- *gasp*- American-British-French boy has a girlfriend, Ellie.

Anna has an absolutely gorgeous punk rocker (yum) boy with sideburns (yikes) back home named Christopher. Also, Christopher’s nickname is ‘Toph’ instead of ‘Chris’ because he too is #NotLikeOtherGirls. Anna tells us that nothing will happen between her and Étienne.

Anna is wrong.

Meredith has a crush on Étienne. So does the Regina George of the school, Amanda.

Étienne and Anna have some moments ™.

♫ Everyone else in the room can see it, everyone else but Anna ♫

I tear my hair out in frustration.

Several other white boys vie for Anna’s heart. Anna remains blissfully unaware (♫ that’s what makes you beautiful ♫). Étienne (who is still dating Ellie, mind you) is unreasonably agitated by this.

Étienne’s mum has cancer btw, which excuses all the shitty things he does, because he’s just a poor, misunderstood boy.

Ellie dresses up as a, quote unquote, ‘slutty nurse’ for Hallowe’en, though- so it’s perfectly okay to dislike her (even though, in the first interaction she had with Anna, where Ellie meets Anna and Étienne, after Étienne takes Anna to the movies, Ellie is perfectly sweet).

Anna, however, is NOT a slut. Amanda is, though. And Rashmi’s cold. And Meredith’s desperate. And Emily’s a slut, too. And her friend Bridgette from Atlanta is a traitor. Anna has an intense case of internalized misogyny.

Anna’s friend Bridgette from Atlanta is screwing Toph, and Anna throws a fit.

Étienne and Anna have some more moments ™.

A truly chaotic series of events befall Anna. She somehow winds up dating Dave (one from the harem of white boys who likes her) to spite Étienne, she gets into a fight with Amanda, more drama ensues, there’s a hint for a spinoff, Étienne and her kiss, Meredith sees and feels betrayed… several misunderstandings and more bullshit later, Étienne and Anna wind up together, because true love conquers all.

Mes Réflexions:

(If the French is off, blame Google Translate.)

Usually, it takes me half a page of my notebook to scribble down my thoughts about the book I’m reading. This motherfucker took me almost an entire page.

Granted, a solid 30% of those notes are me throwing insults at Étienne, but still. ‘STOP STOP STOP YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND YOU DICK’ counts, right?

(That was #17 in my notes, by the way.)

For the record, I like Stephanie Perkins’s writing. It’s not as over-the-top and unnecessarily introspective as Jenny Han’s in To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before, and the interactions between Anna and her classmates were natural and not the “How do you do, fellow kids?” style of Becky Albertalli’s Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda. The pacing is decent- I didn’t feel like it was too rushed; not the insta-love trope most YA romances unfortunately fall prey to.

And yet. AND YET.

Anna: “What’s your problem?” Amanda: “You.”

Same, Amanda, same.

Anna Oliphant is one of my least favorite leads in a book, ever. Étienne’s even shittier. And it’s not like Nick or Amy Dunne from Gone Girl, or any of the main characters from The Secret History, where readers pretty much unanimously hate them. You’re meant to relate to Anna, you’re meant to find Étienne charming and dreamy. I literally had to put the book away and calm myself down several times- especially in the last quarter of the book.

One of my main gripes with Anna is how… dumb she is. I guess Anna’s “Oopsies, silly me, I don’t know French!” is meant to be relatable to the readers. And some parts (like her not knowing how to order food because she can’t speak French) are plausible, but- sis, you didn’t know how to spell oui? And my idea of a cinematic masterpiece is Kung-Fu Panda, but even a dumbass like me knows that France is the film appreciation capital of the world. And yet Anna, a self-professed film freak, doesn’t?

Of course, Anna’s gorgeous, but she has no clue, because of course she doesn’t- even though she has multiple guys falling head over heels for her.

I’m in a short skirt. It’s the first time I’ve worn one here, but my birthday seems like the appropriate occasion. “Woo, Anna!” Rashmi fake-adjusts her glasses. “Why do you hide those things?”

Étienne is staring at my legs. The scales covering them throb under his intense gaze, and the pincers sticking out of my thighs start clicking rapidly in arousal. My hooves shiver in ecstasy.

… sorry, that’s not funny.

Her friends think Anna’s weird for wanting to write film reviews (which is the most contrived thing I’ve ever heard) instead of being the next Margot Robbie or whatever, but of course Étienne doesn’t and he thinks it’s not weird and cool and that Anna is such a special snowflake.

(Man, I sound like Amanda.)

And then we have this spiel by Anna about how she got into film critiquing (?), because we the readers need to know how special and #NotLikeOtherGirls Anna is.

To this, I say, “Piss off, you pretentious fuck.”

Of course, Anna’s a virgin and she’s never gotten drunk before or worn short skirts- she’s not a slut, she shaves below the knees only.

And would YA really be YA without several hearty helpings of internalized misogyny?

First up, we have the bimbo; the Barbie doll archetype whose only goal in life is acquiring the main guy (who is quite obviously uninterested in her), and making life hell for our protagonist. Amanda Whatsername (is she ever given a surname?) has this coveted role in Anna and the French Kiss. She’s blond (because of course she is); the first time we meet her, she’s in a, quote unquote, ‘teeny tank top’, and she also ‘positions herself for maximum cleavage exposure’. She’s always flipping her hair, getting her grubby paws on Étienne, giving Anna the stink-eye, being homophobic and a grade-A bitch.

Meredith goes batshit when Anna and Étienne kiss, and is very pouty and unhappy during prior Anna x Shittiene moments. Honey… he’s just not that into you. Rashmi’s the Ice Queen reincarnate and halfway to bitchdom. Anna doesn’t go as hard on them as she does on literally every other female her age in the book, though.

Rashmi looks at me for the first time, calculating whether or not I might fall in love with her own boyfriend.

Anna, hate to break it to you, but not everyone’s a possessive fucking weirdo.

About Cherrie, her ex-boyfriend Matt’s new girlfriend:

And maybe Cherrie isn’t as bad as I remember. Except she is. She totally is. After only five minutes in her company, I cannot fathom how Bridge stands sitting with her at lunch every day.

Her lifeless laugh is one of her lesser attributes. What does Matt see in her?

Even Bridgette, Anna’s best friend from Atlanta, isn’t immune to Anna’s anti-female propaganda. She’s screwing the guy Anna used to like, and Anna, the hypocrite, throws a huge fit.

For context: Bridgette and Toph are in a band called the Penny Dreadfuls (why is it with YA books and horrible band names? ‘Emoji’ from Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda was bad enough), and Anna + Matt + Cherrie go to a bowling alley to see them perform. After the performance, Toph announces that he’s sleeping with Bridge, and Anna confronts Bridge… onstage.

“… You’re welcome to move in when I leave again, because that’s what you want, right? My life?”

She shakes with fury. “Go to hell.”

“Take my life. You can have it. Just watch out for the part where my BEST FRIEND SCREWS ME OVER!” I knock over a cymbal stand, and the brass hits the stage with an earsplitting crash that reverberates through the bowling alley. Matt calls my name. Has he been calling it this entire time? He grabs my arm and leads me around the electrical cords and plugs and onto the floor and away, away, away.

Everyone in the bowling alley is staring at me.

I duck my head so my hair covers my face. I’m crying. This would have never happened if I hadn’t given Toph her number. All of those late-night practices and… he said they’ve had sex! What if they’ve had it at my house? Does he come over when she’s watching Seany? Do they go in the bedroom?

I’m going to be sick.

Give me a goddamn break.

Anna, about Ellie:

To my amazement, Ellie breaks into an ear-to-ear smile. Oddly enough, it’s this moment I realize that despite her husky voice and Parisian attire, she’s sort of… plain. But friendly-looking.

That still doesn’t mean I like her.

“Anna! From Atlanta, right? Where’d you guys go?”

She knows who I am? St. Clair describes our evening while I contemplate this strange development. Did he tell her about me? Or was it Meredith? I hope it was him, but even if it was, it’s not like he said anything she found threatening. She doesn’t seem alarmed that I’ve spent the last three hours in the company of her very attractive boyfriend. Alone.

[about Ellie’s Hallowe’en costume] Slutty nurse. I don’t believe it. Tiny white button-up dress, red crosses across the nipples. Cleavage city.

If I didn’t like Ellie before, it’s nothing compared to how I feel now. It doesn’t matter that I can count how many times we’ve met on one hand.

I fantasize about their break-up. How he could hurt her, and she could hurt him, and all of the ways I could hurt her back. I want to grab her Parisian-styled hair and yank it so hard it rips from her skull. I want to sink my claws into her eyeballs and scrape.

It turns out I am not a nice person.

YOU DON’T FUCKING SAY.

Emily Middlestone bends over to pick up a dropped eraser, and Mike Reynard leers at her breasts. Gross. Too bad for him she’s interested in his best friend, Dave. The eraser drop was deliberate, but Dave is oblivious.

One of the juniors, a girl with dark hair and tight jeans, stretches in a move designed to show off her belly button ring to Paul/Pete. Oh, please.

And I’m meant to like this character? I’m supposed to root for her?

I’m not saying every girl in the book should be perfectly sweet and friendly- that’s just not realistic. But when Anna has something judgmental to say about every other young female character… maybe she’s the problem.

In fact, the only girl I recall getting a pass is Isla Whatsername. And why do you think?

Brilliant.

And now we have the amalgamation of almost every fanfic boyfriend trope from 2014, Étienne St. Clair. Brown-eyed Harry Styles. I can’t fucking wait.

Étienne could’ve discovered the cure for cancer, or abolished poverty, or volunteered at animal shelters in his spare time. He could’ve been the most virtuous guy around (fret not; he decidedly isn’t). And I still wouldn’t’ve thought of him as the man of my dreams because HE HAS A BLOODY GIRLFRIEND.

I mean, which girl doesn’t want her boyfriend to say:

“I cheated on her every day. In my mind, I thought of you in ways I shouldn’t have, again and again.”

Fuckin’ smooth, bro.

“No matter what a terrible boyfriend I was, I wouldn’t actually cheat on her. But I thought you’d know.”

Such a gentleman!

“So you can keep dating Ellie, but I can’t even talk to Dave?”

Étienne looks shamed. He stares at his boots. “I’m sorry.”

I don’t even know what to do with his apology.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. And this time, he’s looking at me. Begging me. “And I know it’s not fair to ask you, but I need more time. To sort things out.”

And this gem:

“If you liked me so much, why didn’t you break up with her?”

“I’ve been confused. I’ve been so stupid.”

*me, banging pots and pans together* F U C K Y O U

“Ellie’s not like you, Anna; she’s a slut and a whore even though I’m the one who’s been thinking about another girl inappropriately and I’m the one who gets my knickers in a twist when another man glances in your direction because my masculinity is extremely fragile and I’m a total hypocrite and a dickhead.”

I mean, he didn’t actually say that, but that’s the gist.

WHILE DATING ELLIE: he gets Anna a book of sexual love poems, he calls her attractive (“Any bloke with a working prick would be insane not to like you.”) multiple times, he gets jealous whenever another guy so much as breathes in Anna’s direction and constantly interrupts such interactions, he’s been ditching his friends for his girlfriend but suddenly decides he prefers a new girl over said girlfriend, he thinks bread pudding tastes good- in conclusion, he is a Massive Fucking Prick. Though in hindsight, him and Anna deserve each other. They’re awful.

I had loads more notes taken down (Anna using Dave; “The important thing is this: Dave is available. St. Clair is not.”); the implication that cheating is okay because Ellie is bad or whatever, even though the sudden change in her character seems contrived because she was perfectly okay with Étienne and Anna hanging out before; how my blood boils whenever I read an American book and American girls are like “oOoOh AcCenT!!!1!!1!!”; me reading “DAVE SAYS YER A SLUTBAG” in Hagrid’s voice; the sheer atrocity of the name ‘Étienne St. Clair’ (sounds like a caricature of a French person)… but this ‘review’ is already pushing 3k and I can’t be fucked to expand on any of those points.

Verdict (which is apparently the same in French):

Who needs Christopher when Étienne St. Clair is in the world?

Speak for yourself.

#books #book review #anna and the french kiss #Stephanie Perkins #french #france #parisian #paris #YA #young adult #romance #teen fiction #bad books

[aion-rsa]

10 Injustice Characters the DC Animated Movie Needs to Get Right

https://ift.tt/3fCncB7

As we wait an announcement pertaining to the existence of NetherRealm Studios’ Injustice 3, we at least know that Warner Bros. is set to adapt the games into a DC animated movie.

Ever since its release in 2013, the Injustice franchise has not only become a staple of NetherRealm’s roster, but the comic spinoffs have made it a beloved part of the DC multiverse. The plot revolves around a reality where the Joker was able to mess with Superman so badly that the Man of Steel gradually became a mass-murdering dictator, with the support of several members of the Justice League. Left without any other option, Batman brought in counterparts of the Justice League from the “mainstream” universe to help him fight a civil war against his former friend. It was a story that merged the Justice Lords two-parter from the Justice League cartoon with Marvel’s original Squadron Supreme comic series.

A popular prequel series was released, mostly written by Tom Taylor, that explained the five years in-between Superman killing the Joker in cold blood and Batman’s last stand. Sometime later, the game’s story was adapted into the comic Injustice: Ground Zero. And the Injustice universe has only continued to grow since then.

As snazzy as NetherRealm’s story modes are, they are going to have to make some changes to the narrative for the animated movie. It’s not like every character is going to stumble into exactly four best-two-out-of-three fights in a row before someone else is the focus. Knowing that there will be alterations, some characters are really going to need some tender love and care.

Superman (Both of Them)

Injustice: Gods Among Us didn’t invent the idea of an evil Superman, but things are a bit over-saturated these days. Face it, “Dark Superman” has been done to death, what with Brightburn, The Boys, Invincible, and everything Zack Snyder intended with his Justice League movies.

It’s important that the animated movie really get into the WHY of what turned Superman evil instead of the Joker just getting a tragic win over him. The Injustice comic nudged him over and over again with multiple betrayals and manipulations before he finally snapped and angrily broke every bone in Green Arrow’s body. Hit all that, or at least enough of it.

More importantly, Injustice is a story of two different Supermen. The mainstream Superman has to ring true. He has to be the beacon of hope and positivity that pop culture has been missing for the past decade.

Ultimately, as long as they don’t do that minigame where Superman blows up cars and the people in them with his eye-lasers, we’re cool.

Batman

In this DC take of Marvel’s Civil War, Batman is by default the better person when compared to Superman. He has a line he won’t cross and that means no murder and no tyranny. That said, he still needs to be portrayed as a flawed hero. He may be competent, but he still behaves like a total douche at times and deserves to take one to the chin every now and then.

Being a paranoid futurist who buries himself in contingency plans means alienating allies, friends, and even family members. There’s a great moment in the Injustice comic where he reveals that he infected Cyborg with a virus within a week of meeting (you know, just in case), which Killer Croc says is outright sinister. It’s this kind of behavior that led to Superman’s fall to darkness, because even if Bruce wasn’t behind any of the horrors, he still chose coldness and paranoia over being there for a friend who was going through some serious shit.

Harley Quinn

A hype trailer for Harley painted her as a major protagonist in the first game but the game’s story mode just didn’t measure up. The comics did a better job and the Ground Zero volume was specifically about telling the game’s story from Harley’s perspective. I’m not saying that she should be joined by her team of BFF henchmen from Ground Zero, but she should definitely be a prominent hero.

Similar to the Mark Waid comic series Irredeemable and Incorruptible (also about an evil take on Superman), Harley’s turn to heroism is the universe’s response to Superman’s actions. She’s done some horrible things and may never make up for her actions under the Joker’s thumb, but she’ll keep fighting to stop Superman’s atrocities.

Wonder Woman

While Batman did a bad job trying to pull Superman from the darkness, Wonder Woman succeeded in pushing him in. It’s noted here and there, but this Wonder Woman was also altered by tragedy. In this timeline, Steve Trevor turned out to be a Nazi traitor. His betrayal left Diana feeling much less optimistic and hopeful than her mainstream self.

Wonder Woman’s villainy isn’t as pronounced as Superman’s, but she’s definitely the friendly face who eggs him on and wants him to stand over all mankind. As Superman uses her to fill the void left from Lois Lane’s death, the power couple become very good at bringing out the worst in each other.

Damian Wayne

The Injustice game did Damian a little dirty, revealing deep into the story that the Nightwing fighting on Superman’s side was not Dick Grayson, but Damian. According to Batman, Damian murdered Dick. The comics dove deeper into that and made it more of a freak accident brought on by Damian being an impulsive and angry child. Still, Bruce and his son were unable to make amends due to their shared lack of warmth.

Later stories, and even Injustice 2, added more depth to Damian. It always made sense that he’d join Superman’s Regime, but there was a soul in there who would eventually see that this wasn’t the right path. In the comic Injustice vs. Masters of the Universe, which was treated as a sequel to Injustice 2’s dark ending, Damian took up the mantle of Batman to oppose Superman and even grew a long-missing sense of humor in the process.

Lex Luthor

The great tragedy of the DC multiverse is that Superman and Lex Luthor just can’t get along. They will always be at odds no matter what Earth they come from. The Injustice universe was the one exception, as Luthor was portrayed as fairly warm and altruistic. Much like Batman, he has contingency plans up the wazoo, but they don’t come off as creepy.

Seeing him there as Superman’s longtime friend who sadly has to stab him in the back brings back that multiversal truth about the duo. Just because this is a world where Superman kills and things get very bleak doesn’t mean it’s the worst world and that it isn’t worth saving. The mainstream Cyborg is reluctant to come to terms with this heroic Luthor, but he ultimately accepts the miracle that this universe created a Luthor worth befriending and even looking up to.

Hal Jordan

Maybe it’s just me, but I was never a fan of how Geoff Johns retconned Hal’s past and gave him deniability for everything he did as Parallax. I liked that a boring hero dude like Hal snapped, did some bad stuff, and then had to accept his failures in an attempt to be better. With Injustice, they gave us that exact Hal.

Read more

Games

Injustice Beat Zack Snyder’s Justice League to the Punch

By Matthew Byrd

Comics

Injustice: Year Zero Brings the Justice Society to DC Alternate Universe

By Jim Dandy

Overflowing with willpower and being an otherwise competent space cop, Hal is still something of a dunce at times, and he’s susceptible to manipulation in the right situation. He’s already following Superman’s lead, but having Sinestro pop in to indoctrinate him into the Sinestro Corps makes him actually interesting. Let Hal be the worst version of himself here so he can double back on it in the sequel and beg Guy Gardner’s ghost for forgiveness.

Shazam

Injustice may be the B-side to Mortal Kombat, but the game itself is fairly tame on the violence. Joker’s death isn’t actually shown on screen, Luthor’s end is fairly clean, and Grodd taking a trident to the torso is relatively tame.

But what we absolutely, positively have to see in the animated movie is Shazam’s death scene to really give an idea of how far gone Superman is. It’s bloodless from our point of view, but it’s grisly as hell and made worse when you remember that Shazam is a literal child under all the mystical power.

Batgirl

The Barbara Gordon version of Batgirl was one of the first DLC characters added to Injustice, but it’s unfortunate that she’s not in the main story mode — something the animated movie could fix by giving her a more prominent role in the fight against the Regime. Her ending gives her a kickass backstory where she returns to the cowl after her father dies at Superman’s hands. The comics go deeper into this, even making it so that Superman doesn’t directly kill Commissioner Gordon.

In this continuity, she was already wheelchair-bound as Oracle. She had to go under a very dangerous procedure under Luthor’s care in order to walk again. This is one of the storylines that could make for a captivating arc in the movie.

Alfred Pennyworth

Alfred isn’t in either Injustice game. He’s already dead by the start of the first game. But I don’t care. Alfred needs to be in the animated movie because he is the heart and soul of the Injustice comics. While others bow to Superman, follow him, or even try to reason with him, Alfred Pennyworth doesn’t play those games. He will straight-up verbally clown Superman for his actions without flinching. He is not afraid of the Kryptonian, no matter how red his glowing eyes get.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

This comes to a head in the comics when Alfred takes a pill that gives him Kryptonian strength and he kicks the absolute shit out of Superman for ruining his family. I know I’m asking for a lot, but I simply need to see Alfred stomp a mudhole in Superman so hard that his own shoe explodes from the impact.

The post 10 Injustice Characters the DC Animated Movie Needs to Get Right appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3hIQH7h

#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

[be-dazzled]

FT Rare Pairs Week 2020 Day 6

DAY 6: Fantasy Pairing: Rogue Cheney x Minerva Orland Part 1: Longing

Writer’s Corner: I really let go of myself with this one. I just loooove Roguerva. Took me a long time but the important thing is that yes, I made it. Hahaha. Last would be my Day 7 Entry, which is Navia. Please, look forward to it!

Masterlist

---

05:30 P.M.

Rogue could feel the rise of the embarrassment up his head. Everyone was looking at them, all those eyes trained at the little family coming into the front of the temple for a photo memorabilia. He wasn’t used to that kind of attention. He was a shadow, a cast hiding behind the darkness. No one ever paid attention to the shadow.

“Papa?”

Rogue’s down-casted eyes shifted to the little voice that called up to him – Raina, in her traditional kimono, a spitting image of the woman holding her hand; the other slender hand she offered to him. Rogue took it without hesitation, sheathing her small hands within his much larger ones. The thin line on her worried face broke into a wider grin. It was so contagious that Rogue caught himself also smiling.

“Next family please!”

Familiar with the surroundings, it was Kaname who led the faux family to their spots, arranging them under a decorated arc filled with colorful flowers and lanterns.

“Please stand in the middle.” The person behind the image-taker gestured towards the center, adjusting the figures to fit them into his monitor. “Just a little closer.” His gestures wanted the three to squeeze closer. The distance was translating into his lens and he didn’t mean it in the literal sense. The honey-haired young man scratched the back of his head, unsure how to say there was a lack of warmth he expected from a family. “A little bit closer.” Now, he was feeling uncomfortable as the ‘mom’ and ‘dad’ shot his way a menacing glare.

It was very tempting to just strike down the man with his dragon force. Has he any idea what he was asking of Rogue? Forcing the man to invade Ojuo’s personal space? No one even dared, not even the Guild Master, coming close to the woman. Then, suddenly, his internal one-sided battle was disrupted. He withdrew the menacing glare from the poor guy and glanced at Minerva who was now standing close next to him; so close that their shoulders brushed.

“Let’s not waste any more time.” She wasn’t looking at him but Rogue was sure she was talking to the dragon slayer.

“Y-yes, Ojuo.”

But brushing shoulders wasn’t enough.

“They are so shy.” The middle aged ladies giggled behind Kaname, prompting the caretaker to suggest that Rogue put his arm around his ‘wife’. The man was hesitant but Minerva was surprisingly reassuring that she wasn’t going to cut his arm off. So, freely, albeit nervously, Rogue put his arm around Minerva’s waist.

Then, flash. The white light nearly blinded the dragon slayer.

“Alright! Another one.” Because the kid was the only one smiling in the monitor. “I-if the couple w-wouldn’t mind.” He had to rethink that suggestion as an identical dark, murderous aura enveloped the “couple”.

“Yey! Another!” All thanks to the little ball of sunshine bouncing in excitement, the dark aura and the matching dagger looks quickly dissipated. “Mama and Papa should kiss now?”

“K-kiss?!” Rogue and Minerva had a shared expression on their faces: utter shock on the former; a slight mortification on the latter, to which Rogue took an offense. He wouldn’t dare do it but would it really hurt if Sabertooth’s ace didn’t act like kissing him was the grossest thing she was ever to do? Sure, it wasn’t the best idea but…

“Great idea, Miss Raina!” Kaname clapped her hands together, egging the young miss about her bright – crazy – idea.

“WHAT?!”

“Fro thinks so too!”

“Don’t encourage her, Frosch.” Rogue whisper-yelled at his Exceed.

“Don’t parents usually kiss?” The so called ‘parents’ looked down at the small dictator staring up at them, eyes rounded in that awfully cute pleading look. But both parents knew better. Her evil expression was telling, ‘I got you both falling in my trap.’

So evil!

Rogue wasn’t going to bite. He wasn’t born yesterday. Minerva, on the other hand… she wasn’t the kind of woman who would easily give in to pressure.

“They’re just probably shy around people.” One middle-aged woman suggested, making some excuse on their behalf.

“But they were so bold earlier in the changing room.”

Rogue was forced to recall that shameful, yet oddly titillating, experience in the family dressing room.

“But kissing is natural between married couples.”

The shadow dragon slayer wasn’t actually listening to the murmurs running around that middle-aged circle. He was too busy pushing the memory down the back of his mind to actually care. It had a weird way of raising the temperature and thinning the air around him. And he did not need any of those weird things messing up with his brain – and his innocent body.s

“We must… commit to our roles.”

Rogue hadn’t had the time – or the mental presence – to even decipher that code when suddenly Minerva had her slender fingers gripped at the collar of his own kimono, pulling him by it and crashing her lips against his.

It wasn’t as he expected. Not like he’d ever expected having to kiss Minerva. That thought never crossed his mind. But here he was now, his lips pressing against the woman’s – warm, soft, tender lips. He’d never given it any thought but kissing surprisingly felt really nice. He didn’t know what it was – a really good feeling, a sensation that made his head all fuzzy but also so focused on the woman right in front of him – that pushed him to dare, to step out of his comfort zone and shamelessly moved his lips over hers.

“T-t-that’s enough, Rogue.”

Minerva shoved him away, pulling him back to his senses. It got Rogue apologizing for what he tried to do; a little guilty and ashamed of himself for overstepping. But a part of him, that smallest part that was a bit more freeing, convinced Rogue he shouldn’t be sorry. But that part he’d always push at the back burner.

Rogue honestly didn’t know what came over him but that unexplainable feeling had him seeing things too, like the light blush that powdered Minerva’s cheeks rosy.

06:00 PM

No one spoke between them. They just continued weaving the Festival, led by the ever enthusiastic little dictator as she bounced amongst the crowd, holding a photo in her hands.

“Lady Raina sure looks energetic.”

“Yes.” Both Rogue and Minerva answered in unison, glancing at each other when they realized the sudden synchrony. Strange. Then, both swiftly looked away trying not to get caught. Minerva, however, was quicker to recover as compared to Rogue, who was still fighting the strange feeling warming his cheeks.

As they continue on foot, something caught the little lady’s attention, pulling her to a sudden halt. Her caretaker walked up beside, both palms planted on her knees as she read the announcement for her mistress’ sake.

“Look, Miss Raina, they’re having fireworks later tonight.”

Rogue wasn’t even that older than the young caretaker but she was acting more like the young miss as they both had a shared sparkle in their eyes, not the identical amused stares off the sign.

“Raina wants to see the fireworks!”

“Kaname too!”

“Fro three!”

Minerva, the voice of reason, quickly interrupted. “It’s a little late, Lady Raina. We need to return to your home as Rogue and I need to travel back by train.”

“Actually,” Kaname answered, her heart eyes glued to every word on the announcement, “the last train has left around four p.m.”

“What?!” Minerva’s dark green eyes uncharacteristically widened in shock and the coming trouble. “Why didn’t you inform us earlier?” It quite bothered her more than it should and it was showing. An expression no one would ever put next to the name Minerva – freaking out.

So, while Minerva was dealing with the surge of thoughts overloading her brain, the little devil seized the opportunity to make her move.

“Papa?”

Raina knew exactly how to play this and which parent to flash the expression no adult ever said ‘no’ to.

“Let’s see the fireworks together.”

“S-s-sure.”

07:59 PM

“You shouldn’t let a child dictate you, Rogue. You are the adult.”

Rogue respected the woman, he did. He really respected Minerva. He was somewhat the same as she was – reserved, rational and very sensible. But there were days when he wished that Minerva would loosen up a little. Like today.

“But, Ojuo–”

“–We shouldn’t answer nor tolerate a child’s every whim and capricious. They need discipline.” She continued lecturing the dragon slayer.

To Minerva, it was seizing an opportunity to call out her subordinates and correct their misconducts, well, misconduct in Minerva’s eyes. To the rest who didn’t know them, it was a picture of a wife lecturing her husband how to raise their child. It looked like the mistress was winning.

“If you let them take advantage of you like this, you can never demand from these wolves in sheep’s clothing.” She continued to a half-listening dragon slayer.

The reason for his scolding interrupted, unknowing of the position she put her father in.

“Look! They’re about to start.” She exclaimed, grabbing on the two adults and pulling the startled couple towards the gathering of people. The five of them grouped behind the protective railing and waited for the sparklers to light the evening sky.

“Maybe we should learn from these kids, Ojuo. There’s absolutely nothing wrong about stopping to smell the roses.”

Or in their case, watch some fireworks.

Minerva opened her mouth to shot back at the insolent dragon slayer, who took advantage of the brief silence to shame her. But the sound of the first cracker exploding into the dark sky stunned her briefly, transfixing her on the spot as all she could do was watch the magical shadow of the fireworks dance on the side of Rogue’s face. For a moment and for some unknown reason, Minerva could hear her own heartbeat, feeling the hard thump against her chest. Something else pulled her attention and her eyes magnetically drifted to the figure carried in the dragon slayer’s arms, reaching out to the spectacle in the sky as if she could catch them in her small hands. Catching herself staring and remembering it was rude, Minerva averted her eyes towards the heavens and, along with the rest of the village, watched as magic light up the darkened sky. It was beautiful but that lit-up sky paled next to the warm scene beside her, to that warmth Minerva had always been longing for – her father’s love.

9:00 PM

“It doesn’t make any sense.”

Minerva wasn’t too loud but might be enough to surprise the sleeping little miss, as she spat the words with much condemnation. She was confused and mad about being all confused.

“Ojuo, I think we should keep our voice down.” Rogue tried not to sound too indignant as he slowly and carefully lowered the sleeping figure on the large mattress. He wondered why Lady Minerva has been staring at him since after the fireworks show, twitching her face like she was grappling an internal battle. And losing it. “We do not wish to wake up the princess.” Rogue pulled the cover over Raina’s small figure sprawled on the bed, her chin was sticking out. He didn’t want his daughter to catch a cold.

And with every second that passed watching Rogue take care of the young lady, Minerva was getting pretty annoyed.

“Doesn’t make sense at all.” She obeyed the dragon slayer: less loud, but more confused.

“What does?” Kaname appeared out of nowhere but it didn’t seem to bother the spatial mage whose disbelieving eyes were still trained at the scene playing before her.

“This.” She said, brows meeting in the middle, nodding towards Rogue.

“I don’t see anything unusual about it.” Kaname was standing close to her now, which Minerva seemed to mind. She walked a few steps away from the helper, who had that a crazy smile on her face and an even crazier glint in her eyes.

“You and Mr. Rogue would have to share a room, Ms. Minerva.”

“What?!”

Rogue slapped his own mouth for reacting too loud. Good thing his daughter… good thing the kid was so wiped out that she only stirred to the side and resumed snoring like a drill.

“W-w-what do you mean… share a room? An unmarried man and woman i-is not allowed to share t-t-the same bed!”

His eyes darted back and forth from the woman who shamelessly suggested – pushed – the ridiculous notion and the lady who appeared to welcome it. Wait, what? Lady Minerva wasn’t opposed to…

“Let’s not overstay our welcome, Rogue.” She said, and stopped at the door frame without looking back. “Point us to the room, Kaname.”

And that little incident in the changing room flashed back Rogue’s very eyes.

Rogue? Sleeping with Lady Minerva? Even his heart couldn’t keep up with the idea. Then, he remembered the softness of her lips and Rogue’s heart had a whole new reason to marathon.

“Let’s go, Rogue.”

“Y-y-yes... Ojuo.”

“Are you running out of breath?”

---

7:00 AM

Rogue rubbed the backside of his shoulders. Maybe it was a bad idea refusing Lady Minerva’s offer to just sleep on the bed next to her. In his defense, it wasn’t right to share a mattress with a maiden and he was regretting it now. Sometimes, he wished he was just as clueless and shameless as Sting and sometimes, he wished Lady Minerva would get some clue. Did she just offer to sleep with anyone? Well, not ‘sleep with’ in the common context… was she okay kissing anyone, too? All this thinking about Lady Minerva was driving him off the wall. It shouldn’t. As a matter of fact, he shouldn’t be thinking about Lady Minerva, at all.

But how could he not when she boldly pulled him against her and claimed his first kiss? No! He shouldn’t be thinking about the kiss. Lady Minerva had probably kissed a lot of men.

“You seem dissatisfied with me, Rogue.”

Rogue shuddered at the voice. He only realized now that he was glaring at the woman sitting opposite him in the train.

“I-I’m sorry, Ojuo. I didn’t mean to... stare.” He wasn’t going to admit he looked ready to strangle the woman thinking she had kissed a hundred men. “Please excuse me, Ojuo. I need to use the washroom.” Rogue slid out from his booth, carefully lifting and moving his Exceed peacefully sleeping on his lap. Oh, how he wished he could get the same peace.

7:10 AM

Minerva watched him leave until he disappeared behind the door to the public toilet. She wasn’t quite sure why he looked mad at her. Yesterday, she wouldn’t even care. But now, every little thing Rogue did, she took notice. And every slightest thing about him bothered her.

“It doesn’t make sense.” The Lady barked, ladnding a fist on the leather she sat on, getting so mad not understanding herself, and waking up poor Frosch.

“Lady Minerva?” he sleepily asked, rubbing both eyes with his little fists.

“I apologize, Frosch.”

She was only answered by two confused half-closing eyes and little ‘hmmm’ before Frosch returned to snoring again.

Minerva couldn’t help chuckle. She always found Frosch cute. Actually, it wasn’t only Frosch that she thought was cute and that was the notion she’d been grappling with ever since… ever since… since when?! Since when had she been thinking that no non-sense shadow dragon was cute?

Minerva refused to answer that. Then, she decided she needed to splash her face with water; that ought to clear her mind. She slid out of her train couch, careful not to wake up Frosch, and headed to the toilet. Rogue was done using it, just stepping out of the door. He shifted on the side to make room for Minerva.

“Thank you, Rogue.”

Rogue nodded in response but unlike how he’d usually act around the Lady, he bravely met her forest eyes. That same feeling hit him again, one that got his mind hazy but focused at the same time, the one that pushed Rogue to dare. He stopped the sliding door with his bare hand, getting squeezed between the edge and the frame.

“Ojou…”

“What are you–mmm”

The dragon slayer pushed Minerva into the washroom, slammed the sliding door behind him and captured the rest of her words in his mouth. She wanted to push him and tell him off but her body refused to listen. All reasons abandoned, Minerva’s slender fingers grasped on his coat, clutching the garment in her fists and pushing herself up against him, wanting Rogue’s presence all around her.

“Ojuo…” He moaned against her lips, making Minerva cling to him desperately. “Ojuo…”

“Ojuo!”

The concern in Rogue’s voice quickly dragged Minerva out of her reverie. She wasn’t in the train’s washroom anymore. She wasn’t clinging to the dragon slayer. Minerva was now back at her own couch and stared into the eyes of a confused and worried Shadow Dragon Slayer.

“Your knuckles are turning white, Ojuo. Are you alright?”

The spatial mage looked down at her fist resting on the leather, drained of color. She released her fingers immediately, realizing that she was already hurting herself.

“Yes.” She only spared Rogue a glance, masking her embarrassment with her usual indifference, then, turned away from him completely to do something more safe than fantasizing about the unwitting dragon slayer. Minerva propped her hand under her chin and watch the green pasture pass by the train window. She internally thanked the dragon slayer for not prying into the real reason because the spatial mage herself could not offer the man an answer.

Because even to Minerva, “it doesn’t make sense,” what she was starting to feel towards Rogue Cheney.

---

Bonus Chapter 6.5:

Minerva was just looking at the request board, deciding which S-Class job to take next, a mission her and Yukino could work on together. She needed sometime to be away from the other half of Sabertooth’s Twin Dragons – the shadow half. She hadn’t come to terms about this strong feeling she started to harbor ever since that one job she did with Rogue.

“Minerva-sama?”

“A moment, Yukino. I haven’t decided on the request yet.” She answered without even looking at the owner of the voice.

“You have a visitor.”

Curiosity made her pull away from staring at the request board and towards Sabertooth’s resident Celestial Mage.

“Visitor?”

“Mama!”

The child appeared from behind the Celestial Mage, raced towards Minerva and threw her arms around her legs, her height only reaching the Spatial Mage’s belly.

“Did you grow taller?” She asked, patting the top of Raina’s head, who looked up at her, stretching her mouth into that bright smile Minerva really missed. “Only this much!” Raina answered animatedly, flatting her palm on top of her head to say, “I’ve only grown this much!”

Minerva chuckled. She acknowledged Kaname’s presence and returned to her conversation with Raina, telling her that she had learned spatial magic too, just like Minerva’s. She had that radiant smile, all the while, telling Raina she’d train her if she liked. Her unprecedented warmth towards the child confused the hell out of her guild-mates who were just standing by the side, watching the scene unfold, wrapping their little heads around the idea that some little kid – who had the same dango buns as Lady Minerva – just called Sabertooth’s Ace mama.

“Oh my!” Yukino grew red realizing that Minerva-sama had been intimate with a man and conceived a child they all didn’t know. Being the only one brave enough to dare, the Celestial Mage asked the question everyone had in mind. “M-m-minerva-sama… who… w-who is the f-father?”

“Raina?” Came the voice from behind the flustered Sabertooth mage.

“Papa!” She abandoned her mother and ran into the open arms of the Shadow Dragon Slayer. He picked her up and carried the little miss, asking, “How have you been, Princess?”

“Elexent! (Excellent!)” She beamed at him, her plum orbs disappearing.

And the rest of Sabertooth witnessed, for the very first time, how Rogue Cheney radiated with a brightness that rivaled Sting’s White Dragon Slayer Magic. After recovering from the brief shock, Yukino and the rest of Team Sabertooth demanded some answers, throwing the family questions like…

“What the hell is this commotion about?” Sabertooth’s Guild Master appeared annoyed, probably just coming out from filing all the paper works when he heard the noise. “Whose kid is that?” He asked the Dragon Slayer carrying the child.

And almost choked on his own saliva when the little kid introduced herself.

“I’m Raina and they are my parents, Papa Rogue and Mama Minerva.”

“P-papa Rogue a-a-and O-ojuo’s daughter?”

Sting Eucliffe turned white and not because of his White Dragon Slayer magic. A lot of question were probably running in his head, disbelieving his own ears when the kid claimed Sabertooth’s Ace and his own partner as his parents.

“Yup!”

But worse of all, how come Rogue never told him he was harboring a secret child with Lady Minerva?!

“In that case, hi. I’m Uncle Sting.” He extended his hand to shake Raina’s little one and showed her a toothy grin that mirrored Rogue’s secret child.

“Hello, Uncle Sting!”

Rogue would have a lot of time to explain later and he better start with how, when and where did that affair started and how come he never told him. For now, he’d like to welcome this little princess into his family.

tags: @ftguildevents @fairytail-rarepairs

#rogue x minerva #roguerva #rogue cheney #minerva orland #sabertooth #faux family

[sadwsocc]

Insecurities & Flowers [Kozume Kenma x reader]

Warnings: kinda pessimistic reader

Genre: fluff (hopefully)

Word count: 3,042 words

A/n: stop writing at midnight, socc pls. And also in all honestly I do not remember a single thing I wrote here so uh,,,, enjoy

It was Valentine’s Day, the one day you always found annoying and why so one would ask? It was the day where everyone in your friend group —you excluded— would get confessions from guys around school; while you on the other hand, got none. You never really minded it though, love wasn’t something that would come across your mind often, but when the pity glances you get from your friends quadruple on valentines, you were bound to get annoyed.

While you never got any chocolates, you made them, for yourself and your friends. It was somewhat of a ritual for you all, everyone making a batch for each other, added with cute notes about how thankful you all were to have each other, it was sweet and you liked them very much. You even decided that this year, you would one up your little presents. You spent hours after school sitting on your study desk cutting out cards and drawing on them, adding on long notes of gratitude and such until the dead of night.

Giving it all out to your friends, they all smiled and thanked you, even going as far as to hug you while you stand there awkwardly and chuckled it off. After the exchange of gifts, you all in all had gotten a handful of sweets and chocolates and even a few small folded up notes.

You were that one person all somewhat popular friend groups would have, like a supporting role and it sometimes made you feel down about it but the overwhelming love and support they’d give you was surprisingly nice. They’d accepted you for who you were, even if you were the most pessimistic person on earth. You were glad to be blessed with such amazing—and attractive— people.

The bell rang, signalling it was time for class to start so you went back to your seat, keeping all your gifts underneath your desk. Beside you was a dude you somewhat knew, still playing on his PSP. You kind of knew him since the two of you had been classmates since your first year of high school yet you never really spoke to him that much, maybe the occasional “can i borrow your pencil?” and “what homework did we have?”

Kozume Kenma

A guy that you didn’t really understand, even for you, a quiet and somewhat reserved person who’s quite observant—might you add. He had long black hair during your first year but when the next spring came along, he had decided to dye it straight up blond. You didn’t understand why, he didn’t seem the type to do so and it didn’t help the fact that always distracted you, making you keep stealing glances at his very very blond head. He was intriguing somehow. Every morning before class, he would either be playing a game on his PSP or be slumping on his seat taking a short nap or at times a guy with incredible bed hair would come and chat with him, sitting on your seat as he spoke since you would usually be sitting somewhere else (that somewhere else was at the very front of the class where all your friends would group together and sit next to each other sharing seats and chatting up while you stare off blankly, occasionally snapping back to reality and join in on the conversation).

Sitting in your seat, you looked around your class before he teacher came in and boy, were there a lot of confessing happening. Everywhere you look, there would be someone either confessing to someone or someone mentally preparing themselves, everywhere except to your left —your peaceful classmate, playing his game quietly.

Lunch time was one would say,, wild. It was the perfect time for guys and girls alike to confess, reject and accept someone. You had announced to your friends prior that day that you would want to spend lunch alone as you knew that would be swarmed with confession and gifts, they understood of course that you only mean well and so they fully accepted it. While waiting for almost everyone in your class to leave, you saw that Kenma was still next to you sitting there as well. You gave him a friendly wave, asking, “waiting for the crowd to die down?”

With a nod as a reply you chuckled softly in agreement, finally taking out your bento that your mom had packed for you this morning. It was a simple lunch, as always, only today the rice was shaped like a heart, reminding you that it was not only made with love but it was Valentine’s Day.

“Aren’t you going with your friends? They’re leaving over there.” You turned your head to face Kenma and widened your eyes in semi shock from him actually starting a conversation with you. Brushing it off with a light laugh, you shook your head, “Nah, they get busy on days like these... since, yknow they’re like popular and all” you said the last part awkwardly and internally cringed at how you worded it.

“Oh” was all he replied with, not a second later his friend came in and walked towards the two of you. You stared at him for awhile and back to Kenma and stood up, about to take your leave. He stood up the same time as you did when his friend faced him and said, “You know Kenma, today’s-“ he realised that Kenma wasn’t listening when Kenmas turned to you and offered to spend lunch with him and his friend— which he later introduced as Kuroo

Hesitantly, you accepted. All the while you were walking with them to the rooftop, Kuroo was giving Kenma odd looks and constantly elbowing which you brushed off, since you didn’t really bother nor did it affect you in any way shape or form.

Lunch with the two of them was somewhat fun, you found out a bit more about Kenma and Kuroo from Kuroo (like Kuroo and Kuroo only, Kenma was busy playing with his game (or distracting himself haha)) Turns out, Kenma was in the volleyball club and to your surprise, team. You were shocked to find that out as you really really really didn’t take him as someone who’d let alone run a mile.

You and Kuroo’s conversation somehow led to Valentine’s Day and he even openly confessed that he had a crush on one of your friends, Megumi. He told you that he was planning on giving her chocolates after school and somewhere along the lines did it hit you. Eyes widen as realisation it, “oH wait are you the captain of the volleyball club?” You asked, with a confused nod from Kuroo you continued, “OH MY G O D,, WAIT IS THIS WHY MEGUMI ALWAYS WANTED TO DRAG US ALONG TO OUR SCHOOLS VOLLEYBALL MATCHES? SHE LITERALLY ONCED SAID SHE WOULD GO ONLY TO SEE THE CAPTAIN OF THE TEAM WHEN I ASKED HER!!”

That earned a dry choke and chuckle from Kenma beside him and a furiously blushing Kuroo. You held out your hands and held his with stars in your eyes as you announced how glad you are that Megumis crush not only liked her back but is also not as creepy as you thought he would be.

“You thought i was creepy?” Kuroo asked, confused.

You opened your mouth, only for Kenma to answer before you, “with that hair of yours, who wouldn’t?”. You chuckled at that.

The bell rang, signalling lunch was over as you stood up and waved off to Kuroo wishing him luck on the confession after school. He thanked you and turned to Kenma, “So, shes the girl you liked huh?”

Going back to class, you went over to the front of the class where all your friends were cooped up in. Inserting yourself, you saw the pile of cards and chocolates on Megumis desk (they all put it on her desk for convenience), you stared in awe with the amount of things there were and faced each and every one of them, congratulating them about the fact that they’d manage to steal the hearts of many many school boys. Everyone chuckled at you light hearted jokes, even offering you some of the chocolates —which you gladly accepted.

“So are y’all planing to accept any of them or-?”

Most of their answers were that they were going to consider whereas Megumi just frowned and shook her head. This earned the attention of not only you but also the others as each and everyone of you bombarded her with the same question “why?”

“You guys know I like,,, him,,, yknow?” Everyone nodded as Megumi sighed.

The teacher then came in and class continued on. Yet somehow you couldn’t focus during class, you were fine before lunch but all of a sudden, you just couldn’t focus on the damn subject, at first you thought that maybe you were tired but even after a few slaps on your cheeks, you were still out of it. Maybe it was the thought that everyone had gotten some type of confession except for you, but no, it couldn’t be, it never mattered to you all these years so why now out of the blue?

Awhile passed and you found yourself staring at the pudding head next to you. When you realised what you were doing, you tried to shift your focus back on the teacher in front. But even still, you would find yourself unconsciously turning to Kenma and just staring at him. Oh god, you hoped you didn’t freak him out.

Kenma felt holes burning on his side and he knew it was you, he didn’t know why though. Did you hate him after today? He hoped not. Finally, he turned to you and caught you quickly shifting your focus back on the black board in front, what he was a truly a surprise to him. We’re you,,,,, blushing? Surely not,,,, right?

You were.

Oh god, he caught you staring, would he think you were a creep? God! YOU COULDNT BELIEVE YOURSELF. WHY IN THE WORLD WOULD SOMEONE JUST STARE AT SOMEONE ELSE LIKE THAT? He must’ve hated you for that, I mean who wouldn’t?!

Your palm went up to your cheeks and you felt the warmth on them, they were warmer than they should be,, were you sick? You hoped you were sick, other wise why would you even be mindlessly staring at your classmate and going red when they caught you staring? You truly wanted to believe you were just sick but deep down you knew it was the simple case of developing feelings.

The way he’d act in class and the little smiles he gave whenever he’d talk to Kuroo plagued your mind. What were they talking about? Why was his very being suddenly all you could think about? You realised that maybe you always had these feelings but just that you were too thick to realise. You were right.

School finally ended and you were glad you could escape from your thoughts for once, meeting up with Megumi as the others in your friend group had to catch he train home while Megumi and you walked home.

Whilst waiting for Megumi to pack up her stuff, you saw Kuroo at the front of your class. Megumi froze when she saw him, you could visibly see the blush forming on her as you waved at Kuroo. Megumi turned her back towards him and whisper-shouted to you, “you know him?!”

You nodded to her as Kuroo flashed a smile at you. His focus went back on Kenma, who by time had finished packing and was walking toward the exit. When Kenma was finally next to Kuroo, he faced his attention to you and waved goodbye to you. It was then your turn to blush —wHY WERE YOU BLUSHING? NEVER IN YOUR LIFE HAD YOU THOUGHT THIS CLICHE WOULD HAPPEN TO YOU. You waved back at him and said your farewells, except for the fact that they didn’t seem to be moving— more accurately, Kuroo wasn’t moving so Kenma awkwardly waited beside him like an NPC.

Kuroo finally spoke out in an uncertain tone “uh,, I’d like to speak to Megumi,”

“Y-yes!” Your friend turned around only to see Kuroo with his hand stretched out, holding a Valentine’s confession card and a stalk of rose.

Megumi instantly understood what it was and started blushing furiously, so furious that it made your blush look like it was nothing. Kuroo on the other hand felt embarrassed and was hiding behind his unruly bedhead. There were no words exchanged yet everyone (the four of you) knew that Kuroo’s confession had been accepted. You couldn’t help but feel glad for your friends.

And that was how Megumi and Kuroo both ended up with their crush. And that day the four of you walked back home together, with the two newly lovebirds walking next to each other —so close that their knuckles kept brushing— like those cheesy scenes in a slice of life anime you’d watch at 2 in the morning; all the while you and Kenma silently third wheeled them.

Your house was the one nearest to school, so you were the first to part from them. You said your goodbyes and went inside. Closing the door behind you, you frowned, pessimistic thoughts suddenly devoured you like somehow the whole interaction between Megumi and Kuroo made you think how truly lonely you were and the realisation that you might have a crush on Kenma was like salt to the wounds.

You were so utterly confused with these emotions and the only way you knew how to cope with was to push them aside, trying not to let these odd and somewhat insecure thoughts at you up anymore than they should.

Going to bed that night felt odd, you couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning. You weren’t even sure why you couldn’t sleep at that point, between overthinking about your friendship with your friends and then to whatever there was of you love life, to your somewhat friendship with Kenma, then to your crush —if you could even call it a crush— on him. Needless to say you were much more sleep deprived the next day to school than you were normally.

Kenma on the other hand, didn’t really sleep either, normally he would be up trying to beat a boss to a pass a level in his game but that night he was up thinking about nothing but you. He remembered something that Kuroo said earlier about how he figured out who his crush was and thought about how he lost the chance to confess to you on Valentine’s. He sighed and sat up from his bed, staring at the small bouquet of flowers Kuroo had bought for Kenma to confess to you when they passed a florist a few days prior and then to the card next to it, one that simply had the words “I like you. -Kenma” on it.

He didn’t know if you liked him back or not but seeing you somewhat gloomy after school made him want to cheer you up somehow. And that somehow was to confess to you, Megumi did mention something about how she realised that you might have a crush on him after you went home first. Kenma blushed at that asking how she was so sure about that and Megumis reply was “I’ve known her longer than anyone and I’d know some things even she might’ve not found out about herself yet.”

So basing off a hunch from one of your best friends, Kenma decided that maybe he would confess to you the next day.

——

They day after Valentines was the day we’re youd see a lot of newly blossomed love and to say you weren’t a bit envious was an utter lie. Walking in class, you decided you take a short nap before class started, ignoring your friend group as you walked it. It was something you’d do sometimes, they could see the exhaustion from your posture thus leaving you alone and you were so thankful to have such understanding people around you.

You were woken up by a light tap on the back by Kenma and you instantly jolted up, whatever exhaustion you had was gone. Why was he waking you up? What did you do?

Midway into panicking you saw him fumble around his bag and took out a card. You stared up at him with your eyebrows scrunched, then accepting the card from his hands. Freshly woken up you —even on high alert— didn’t realise that after you had accepted the card, he went back to his bag and awkwardly took out a small bouquet of flowers. You stared at the card and read the contents. Finally processing it in you system, you started to get red and looked up from the card and was greeted by an also red Kenma holding out flowers.

You were so glad that no ones attention was towards the two of you and that the teacher still hasn’t came in class. You accepted the flowers too and finally spoke out, “ Kenma, I- I’m”

You were so happy and yet quite surprised you stared fumbling out your words, “I- you.. YES. I mean,, Kenma, I like you too and-“ you realised words couldn’t explain how you were feeling so you put down the flowers and card on your desk and stood up, inching closer to him and held up with hands, you felt like you were going to cry out with joy —and you did. Kenma instantly understood your reply and never in his life had he felt so relieved and happy, a small smile tugging at the side of his lips as he looked at you and your blushing, even sobbing, mess.

You let go of his hands and went to wipe the tears on your cheeks with your sleeve as he went back down to sit on his chair beside you.Your awkward tears had finally been wiped away just in time for class to start.

After school, you, Kenma, Megumi and Kuroo decides to walk home together again. Only this time, no one was third wheeling anyone.

#haikyuu!! #kenma #kozume kenma #nekoma #kenma x reader #hq kenma #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu x reader #kozume kenma x reader #hq kuroo #kuroo tetsurou #haikyuu

[demigodsanswer]

Once Upon a Point - Chapter 4

Story Summery:

“Annabeth, you’re with Percy,’ Chiron said. Annabeth. She looked like the figurine in a little girl’s music box had come to life to dance in City Ballet. Percy felt like every opportunity to dance with her was a privilege. Just don’t forget the choreography, Percy thought as he got into the right starting spot for the wedding pas de deux. Don’t forget the choreography, and don’t drop her.”

Percy, a soloist with the ballet company, and he is offered one chance to dance with Annabeth, one of their star principals. If he nails the choreography, he might just earn a chance to dance with her. And, if he’s really lucky, he might get a date out of it as well.

Chapter Title: Awakening 

Read on AO3

Start from the beginning

Story notes - PLEASE READ 

The tags for this story have been updated to reflect the content that is in this chapter and the next chapter. Please check AO3 for the full list, but they do include verbal abuse and non-consensual sharing of nude photos. 

(If you have checked the tags, and nothing is a particular trigger for you, the rest of the note may spoil this chapter)

This chapter starts to feature some minimal verbal abuse, as well as consensual sharing of nude photos. The verbal abuse is about halfway through when Luke shows up. That section is marked off with *****. The photos are the last section of the story when Percy is home. That section is marked off with ~~~~~ and goes until the end.

After these two chapters, things will go back to fluff, as well as some hurt/comfort.

Percy slipped into his tights and doublet before slicking his wild hair down with enough gel to make sure it held throughout the ballet. He jumped up and down a few times, shaking his hands, trying his best to get rid of some of his nerves while keeping his muscles warm.

Their dress rehearsal started in a few minutes, but he had plenty of time; he didn’t go on until act two. Still, he wanted to feel ready – to be in his costume, hair, and makeup before anything started. It was safer for him that way. Sometimes large chunks of time just disappeared from him, and if that happened during a show or a rehearsal, he could be caught, literally, with his tights down. Despite this being a recurring stress-nightmare every time he approached a show, it had never happened. Still, he liked to be ready.

He left his dressing room and began to wander backstage, telling passing dancers to break a leg. He didn’t realize how much he wanted to see Annabeth until he ran into her. She was fully costumed-up too – pink, rose-adorned tutu, shoes on, hair back, makeup insane up close but probably perfect from the seats. She was just doing some basic plies and tendus, using a stray folding chair as a barre.

She smiled when she saw Percy, stopping her warmup. “Well, look at you, Prince Charming,” she said, smiling at his costume. It was the first time either of them had seen each other in these. Percy knew what the Aurora costume looked like (the company had used the same design for decades), but it looked like it was suited for her, like she was the only one who had ever, would ever, or should ever wear it. The tutu and leotard were a light pink color, with roses embroidered on the tutu, which held its shape with layers of perfectly constructed tool that, even though it was a pancake tutu, gave the illusion of a beautiful classic ballgown. The top was the same color, with more little roses snaking their way up the straps. The costume didn’t have sleeves, but she did have little ruffles around her upper arms. And for the full princess effect, of course, she had a tiny, rhinestone crown that would glitter fantastically in the spotlight. She looked beautiful.  

“You look great,” he said.

She smiled. “You look pretty handsome yourself.”

“Well,” he said, crossing his harms and putting on an ironically cocky attitude, “who isn’t into a man in eyeliner and tights?”

Annabeth smirked. “I think it’s a great look that more men should embrace.”

Is she flirting with me? Percy’s heartbeat with an unexpected excitement.

He was going to say something back to her, when the stage manager announced there were only two minutes until they started. Annabeth looked at him, her gray eyes wide with anticipation.

“You’re gonna kill it,” Percy said.

“Are you going to watch act one?”

He nodded. “At least your part. I might skip the fairies.”

She took a deep breath, before going up on pointe. Percy looked at her, confused by what she was going. They were the same height when she was on pointe (it was one of the reasons they made good a duo). She looked him in the eyes, and for a moment, Percy thought she was going to kiss him, but she just leaned in and hugged him, resting her chin over his shoulder so she didn’t mess up her makeup before the show had even started. He hugged her back, wrapping his arms around her to keep her close to him and to help her keep her balance.

She pulled away after a few moments, smiling at him. “I’ll see you at intermission. My chair and I are going to try and stay warm in the wing.”

Percy nodded. “Break a leg.” He said as she walked off towards the stage.

*****

As the overture started, Percy headed back to his dressing room for his pre-show ritual of freaking out. His entire body buzzed with excitement about the idea of finally having the show up on the stage, but with terror at the possibility that he could fuck everything up.

He headed past the stage door on his way to his dressing room but paused when he saw two familiar faces arguing in the doorway.

“Please, I just want to see her.”

Percy’s breath caught when he saw Luke, standing half inside and half outside of the theater, well-dressed and clean cut as always, fighting with Beckendorf, who, despite being on crutches, was holding his own against the other man.

“I don’t think she wants to see you,” Beckendorf told him. “Leave her alone.” He reached for the door, and tried to close it, but Luke put his hands out, stopping his efforts.

Luke’s face turned dark, no longer politely pleading to see his ex-fiancé. “Oh please. You think I can’t get past a cripple?”

Percy knew Beckendorf – he was a calm, level-headed man, but he could get angry and protective of people he cared about. The last thing Percy wanted was for the two of them to start really fighting backstage.

He walked up to the two of them, putting himself between them, forcing Luke further out of the theater. “What’s going on?”

“This asshole,” Beckendorf said, point at Luke with one of his crutches, “was trying to sneak in and cause trouble.”

“I’m not causing any trouble. I just want to see Annabeth,” Luke protested. He looked at Percy, trying to seem innocent, but Percy trusted Beckendorf’s opinion on Luke. Before Percy could say anything, Beckendorf shot back.

“You think that won’t cause any trouble?” Beckendorf yelled.

“She’s got a job to do,” Percy added, looking at Luke. “She doesn’t need you getting in the way.”

Luke laughed at him. “Heard you’re the prince. You think that means something? You think that means you’re a good dancer?”

“I am good!” Percy said, forcing a confident tone. He could feel his face flushing with embarrassment and anger rising in his chest.

“Come on,” Luke said, smirking at him in a way that made Percy’s stomach churn with anger, “I’ve been in class with you. If you’re the principal here, it’s only because Annabeth wanted a partner who she knew wouldn’t upstage her.” He looks like my Gabe, Percy though. Luke might have been thin, washed, and handsome, but his tone, the look on his face, like nothing would make him happier that to see that he hurt you, was a look Percy has become well acquainted with in the decade he lived with Gabe. Percy remembered some of the passing comments Annabeth had made about him and wondered if he had ever turned this tone on her, or worse.  

Percy wanted to hit him, to ruin his perfect smug stupid face, but he held back. He thought about telling Luke that no dancer, not him, not Beckendorf, and certainly not Luke, could ever upstage Annabeth; that she was fantastic all on her own and better off without him. But the last thing he needed was for Luke to catch wind of his affection for her.

“I saw you two dance Diamonds together last year,” Luke continued. “You think I didn’t notice how much you wanted to fuck my fiancé?” He asked. Percy snarled and got ready to hit him, but Beckendorf held him back.

“She’s not your fiancé anymore, and you have no business being here,” Beckendorf told him.

Luke frowned. Percy thought he might just force his way into the building. Instead he just took a step back. “Fine. Who’d want to watch this shitty production anyway? With such a weak partner for a prince, I’m sure it’s going to be just once disaster after another.” He turned around and headed away from the theater. Percy wanted to chase him out and get him back for what he had said. But he couldn’t do anything that would cost him his job or get him arrested, so he held back, staying the theater, fuming with rage.

“None of what he said was true,” Beckendorf said, resting a hand of Percy’s shoulder. “You’re a great dancer, and you earned your role.”

Percy brushed his hand off his shoulder. “I only got it because you’re injured.”

Beckendorf shrugged. “You still beat out all the principals and other soloists.” He said. “And you know Annabeth has no say over the casting. Doesn’t matter who she’d want to dance it with. Chiron picked you.”

Percy nodded, unconvinced. He headed to the stage, two voices ringing back and forth in his head – Do your job, Annabeth’s voice told him. Annabeth wanted a partner, she knew wouldn’t upstage her, Luke said to him.

He got to the wings of the stage as the prologue was completing. He saw Annabeth, standing in position, ready for her entrance. He didn’t go up to her. He couldn’t. He knew she’d know something was wrong right away.

He hung back in the shadows, trying to calm down, as he watched act one. She looked happy and perfect as she flew across the stage.

You think I didn’t notice how much you wanted to fuck my fiancé? Percy shook his head, trying to get rid of Luke’s voice. What an asshole, Percy thought.

Percy watched as Aurora took the spindle from Carabosse, pricked her finger, and fell into her magical deep sleep. Jason, one of her four princes, caught her, and lowered her to the ground as she ‘fell.’ Percy laughed as he watched Annabeth gracefully and subtly lay a limp hand on her tutu to hold it down as she was lowered onto her back.

With such a weak partner for a prince, I’m sure it’s going to be just once disaster after another. Luke’s voice reminded him. Percy’s heart rate picked up as Chiron yelled “Curtain!” Signaling the end of act one. He went on soon; they just had intermission. Do you job, he told himself. That’s all you have to do.

“You are going to be great,” Beckendorf said, coming up behind him. “You two are great partners.”

Annabeth made her way off the stage and back towards him and Beckendorf, smiling wide.

He couldn’t tell her about Luke. At least, not right now. She didn’t need any distractions.

“Annabeth,” Beckendorf said, “perfect as always.”

She smiled and rolled her eyes as she started to rattle off all the steps, she had to quickly adjust to keep from losing her balance and the turns she overshot or landed out of time with the music. Percy barely listened though. You think I didn’t notice how much you wanted to fuck my fiancé? Luke right about that, Percy admitted to himself. But he didn’t want it to end there, or even start there. He watched her head back to her dressing room to get into her act two costume and change her shoes, wondering how an asshole like Luke had ever had the privilege of dating her.

~*~*~

The vision sequence went well; there were no major catastrophes, which was all they could really hope for. Percy rode out of the scene on the Lilac Fairy’s gondola, as the scene changed to Aurora’s room. Annabeth, back in her act one costume, was brought out on her bed, surrounded by her sleeping court. Scrims covered in branches and cobwebs fell, making the stage dark. Percy entered again, staring in awe at Annabeth, before going to Piper. What should I do, she’s asleep? He mimed to her. Kiss her. Piper mimed back. Percy blew a kiss to audience, a way of saying: Of course! I’ll kiss her! Before making his way to her bed.

There was no way to fake a kiss on stage, but the kisses were always gentle pecks. And the almost-nearly-dead Aurora wasn’t supposed to kiss back. But when Percy leaned over and kissed her, he could have sworn she began to kiss back, just for a second it felt like her lips moved to meet his. It was so fleeting, he worried he might have imagined it.

You think I didn’t notice how much you wanted to fuck my fiancé?

Maybe he had imagined it. Or maybe it was an acting choice; it was a sign that Aurora had come back to life, and that she remembered him.

Percy didn’t have time to dwell on this kiss, though. The scrims began to lift, the lights came back to the stage, and Annabeth rose from the bed. The Lilac Fairy re-introduced them, and act two ended.

~*~*~

Percy stood backstage, sharing one last quiet moment with Annabeth, now changed into her white wedding tutu, before entering for the wedding scene. He had a few minutes to make it to the other side of the stage where he would enter, but he couldn’t dally for too long.

“Back where we started,” she said, smiling. He couldn’t help it, he smiled back. Percy looked at her. She had changed into her final tutu – a stunning white beaded costume. His costume was similar – all white from head to toe, but less sparkle. They were about to do the wedding pas de deux, the first dance they had done together for this ballet. But in their white costumes, they almost looked like diamonds. Like diamonds, Percy realized. 

At the dress rehearsal for Jewels, Annabeth had run off the stage half-way through their pas de deux, and he never found out why. Luke, he thought. They had both left the company shortly after that. 

Percy wasn’t a religious man, but, as he looked at Annabeth, who, even in the darkness of the wings was positively radiant, he sent up a prayer to any god that might listen, begging them to keep her on stage the whole time.

He decided not to remind her that last time they had a dress rehearsal she ran out on him. He figured she remembered well enough on her own.

“How are your legs?” He asked.

She sighed. “Oh, about ready to fall off, but I think I can get through one last dance.”

Percy took her hand and squeezed it. “You’ll be great,” he said.

She squeezed back. “So will you.” It sounded like she really meant it, like she believed in him. Percy tried his best to trust her, but his confidence wavered as he walked off to his position.

He took a deep breath. It didn’t matter what he felt right now, he thought as they entered the stage, he had to be confident in this moment, or else Annabeth would literally fall on her face.

Partnering with a woman in a tutu was a challenge, because it was hard to see her legs. Percy just had to try and sense where her balance was as he pressed her into the air before setting her back down on her toes. He had gotten a good sense of her balance back when they had done Diamonds, and he had become even more familiar in the last few weeks. All thoughts of Luke left his head as the music began. All the mattered was that he and Annabeth danced together. Not as Percy and Annabeth, but as Aurora and the Prince. Artistry, technique, and passion mattered right now, not some asshole ex-fiancé.

By the time they got to the first fish dives, Percy’s confidence had returned. They had spent time in rehearsal practicing these until Percy could do them one handed. Chiron insisted he do them one-handed, because Beckendorf always had. Percy didn’t think that was fair; Beckendorf was the best in the business. Percy was just in the business. But after weeks of rehearsal, they felt natural. He trusted Annabeth and she trusted him.

Annabeth would pirouette with Percy’s hand on her side. As she finished her last turn, he held onto her tight, lifting her up as she sent her face down and forward and her legs up and back. They paused like that for a moment, before he lifted her back up for the second and third dive. They had to trust each other completely in these dives – if she hesitated, she wouldn’t get down fast enough. If he hesitated, she could lose her balance and get hurt. And City Ballet’s tempos were faster than classical companies, even when they used classical choreography; Annabeth had to spin and drop fast, and Percy had to be ready for her.

But the two worked in perfect harmony, hitting every dive on the music. When Percy lifted her out of the last dive, they had a moment where they stared at each other, communicating to the audience that they were completely in love. Annabeth smiled wide at him, her face full of joy to communicate not just that Aurora loved her prince, but that she knew they were doing well. Or maybe, it was just joy at the fact that the ballet was almost over -- relief at knowing she’d be able to rest soon. It didn’t matter. She was happy and not flat on her face on the stage. That was all Percy wanted.

They finished the dance with the final fish dive. This time, Percy had to lift his hand off her waist, as she held herself up by wrapping one leg around his torso and squeezing every muscle in her leg and core as hard as she could. It was amazing move to see from the audience, and Percy knew they had nailed it. He lifted her up, back onto her feet, as they went into their solos and the coda.

~*~*~

When the ballet ended, Percy had a moment backstage to catch his breath and dab some sweat off his forehead before running back out for the bows. After bowing to an audience of Chiron, a few company members, and a few ballet masters, he stepped to the side of the stage and watched as Annabeth entered for her final bow.

When he saw her, he felt his chest tighten with anxiety. The ballet had taken his mind off of Luke for long enough, but there wasn’t any avoiding it anymore. He had to tell her that he had come by to see her.

The memory of the conversation brought back doubts about his own abilities; sure, the rehearsal wasn’t perfect, and performances weren’t really ever perfect either, but he felt like he had done a good job. Well, except for the one set of turns during act two, and the quick choreography adjustment during his solo. Not to mention his near stumble during act three. He started quickly running through ever minor mistake he had made, sure that Chiron would rip into him during notes. He looked at Annabeth again. She had been nearly perfect – as perfect as a dancer could be. Of course, Luke was right, he though.

Percy felt a familiar rage bubbling inside him; it was the same feeling he use to feel around his stepfather or class bullies, like he wanted to pick a fight, to yell at someone, to get even, to prove himself. He took a deep breath, trying to calm those feelings, but his efforts barely succeeded.

“And curtain!” Chiron yelled from the audience, in place of taking the effort to actually lower the curtain. “Good job everyone. Principal and solo roles be back on stage in half an hour for notes. Corps, expect your notes in an email later.”

Everyone nodded at the instructions and headed off the stage.

Percy headed off, but he felt someone grab his hand. “Percy, wait up,” he heard Annabeth say.

He turned around to face her, and her smile fell. “Are you okay?” She asked.

“Can I talk to you?”

She nodded and led him to her dressing room. Once they were inside, she closed the door, sitting in her vanity stool to take off her pointe shoes.

“What’s up?” She asked.

Percy took a deep breath, running his hand through his hair, which took some effort considering how slicked back it was for the performance.

“Luke was here earlier,” Percy said.

Annabeth sat up straight, leaving one shoe still on. “Oh.”

Her face was expressionless, like she was waiting for Percy to continue before she let her guard down.

“Beckendorf stopped him at the stage door. He – Luke – wanted to see you,” Percy continued. “Beck didn’t let him in.”

Annabeth nodded, bending down to take her other shoe off as she asked: “Did you talk to him?”

“A little, yeah,” Percy said. Annabeth looked up, her dead pointe shoes in her hand. She looked right through him; her gray eyes were emphasized by the exaggerated stage make up. Her mouth was set in a straight line, like she knew he wanted to say more, and she wouldn’t say anything herself until he did.

“I, uh, just figured I’d let you know that he came by. It was before the rehearsal, so I figured it would be distracting to tell you then.”

Annabeth nodded slowly. “You were right to tell me.” Percy let out a breath. “Did he say why he …?” She trailed off.

“Just said he wanted to see you,” Percy told her. “I joined later in the conversation. Beckendorf might know more.”

She nodded again. “I’ll talk to him about it.” She paused. “Thanks for not letting him in. And for waiting to tell me.”

Percy nodded. The room felt tense, like he couldn’t say anything else, but he couldn’t leave. Annabeth stayed sitting, and Percy stayed standing on the other side of the room.

Finally, Annabeth spoke. “Did he, um … did he say anything else about me?” Her voice was tense with anxiety. Percy remembered the way Luke spoke to him as he looked at Annabeth, her face expressionless and starting forward at the wall of her dressing room. Percy didn’t know if she was trying to control rage or fear.

You think I didn’t notice how much you wanted to fuck my fiancé? “No,” Percy said. “Just talked some shit about the show.”

She looked at him, curious. “What did he say?”

Percy shrugged. “Just some shit about how the production was going to be bad because I’m a weak dancer.”

Annabeth stood up, indignant. “Don’t listen to him,” she said, walking over to him. She shook her head and stared at his chest as she spoke to him, like she couldn’t look him in the eye if she tried. “This is what he does, he wants you to feel small, and weak, and like you’re nothing. Just don’t …” paused for a second, before finally meeting his gaze. “Don’t listen to him. You’re a fantastic dancer, Percy.”

Percy nodded. One side of his brain told him to believe her, to thank her, to kiss her; the other side of his brain told him she was just being nice and that she was in costume changes for all of his solos.

She was staring at his chest again, not looking up at him. He wants you to feel small, and weak, and like you’re nothing. Percy had a feeling she hadn’t just been talking about his experience with Luke. He wanted to find Luke again, and hurt him really bad, make him bleed, make him apologize, but he took a few deep breaths, trying to rid himself of his anger. It wouldn’t help Annabeth. 

“Are you okay?” Percy asked.

She looked up at him. “I don’t know,” she admitted after a moment.

He wanted to hug her, but she had her makeup on still, and his act three costume was pure white. He wanted to kiss her but kissing a woman after talking about her ex-fiancé seemed like the wrong time.

But she was still looking at him. Her confusion and sadness blended with the confidence and pride he loved about her. She licked her lips just a bit, and there was suddenly a new tension in the room. Kissing her first would be a bad decision, he decided, but if she kissed first …

He felt the edge of her tutu brush against his legs, and he held his breath. He knew that if he took a single step closer to her, he would --

“Annabeth,” Percy heard Piper say, knocking at the door of the dressing room. “Chiron’s starting notes in a few minutes.”

Annabeth took a step away from him. “I’ll be right there,” she yelled back. “I have to get changed,” she said to Percy, looking down at her white tutu.

Percy nodded. “I’ll see you downstairs.”

He stepped out of her dressing room, and saw Piper waiting for Annabeth in the hall. She was scrolling on her phone, so Percy tried to sneak past her, but the sound of the dressing room door closing caught her attention.

She gave Percy a sly smile when she saw him, and Percy felt his ears get red. “Oh, okay.” Piper said.

“Piper, please don’t – nothing happened –” he stammered.

She put up her hands. “I won’t tell anyone. Scouts honor,” she promised. “But time these things a little better. People will notice if you’re both late.”

Percy nodded, figuring that was the best he was going to get.

~*~*~

Percy stole a few glances at Annabeth during notes and corrections. He never caught her looking back, but he figured she was too proud to look his way.

He offered to walk her to the subway when they were done, but she shook her head. “Thanks, but I’m going to call an Uber. My legs are so tired I don’t think I could make it up the stairs.”

Percy laughed. “That’s fair.”

She stopped when they got to the curb. She turned towards him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “Seriously, Percy, don’t dwell on what Luke said,” she was looking at him in the eyes this time. “You’re really fantastic.”

He smiled. “So are you,” he said. “When you’re on stage, no one can take their eyes off of you.”

She shrugged and brushed him off. “That’s just because I’ve got the crown and big tutu.”

“No, it’s not,” he told her.

She smiled and adjusted her dance bag. She looked like she was about to say something else, but her Uber pulled up. “Well, enjoy your few days off,” she said. “I’ll see you at the show.” She smiled and waved goodbye as she got in the car.

“Get home safe,” he said to her.

He didn’t wait for the car to leave this time; instead, once the car door closed, he turned and headed towards the subway, his legs aching with each step.

~~~~~

His infinitely kind mother had a bucket of ice ready for him when he got home. He sat on his bed, ice packs on his quads and his feet in the buckets, his back flat against the mattress. He took a few relaxing breaths, running through the high parts of the rehearsals – the solos he had done well, the compliments Annabeth and Chiron had given him. He also took stock of some of his corrections, noting some things he might work on in the couple of days before the show. He tried to keep Luke’s voice out of his head as much as he could as he ran through the notes, trying to focus on Annabeth. You’re really fantastic, she had said to him.

He checked Instagram and Twitter, liking a few photos company members had posted of themselves in their costumes.

Annabeth had posted one. It was her, standing on pointe in her dressing room mirror in her pink act one costume. “All ready for my 16th birthday! Can’t wait to see who shows up!” The caption read. Percy smirked and liked the photo. He tried to think of something clever to comment, but they all sounded corny. Finally, he typed out “You’re my dream girl!” He laughed at his own joke but deleted the comment before posting. There was a better moment he could use that line, he realized, saving it in his memory for later.

When he ran out of social media to scroll through, he opened his email, hoping there wasn’t anything that needed his immediate attention.

He had a new email from an address he didn’t recognize. There wasn’t a subject or a body. Percy thought about deleting it right away, figuring it was spam or a virus, but the attachments caught his focus.

Annabeth 18 the first one of them read. There were at least six other attachments, all with her name on them.

Without thinking much about it, he clicked on this first attachment.

He sat up straight when the photo loaded: it was Annabeth for sure, but she was much younger. Percy thought he might throw up when he realized that 18 didn’t number the photo, it was her age in the photo. He didn’t look at it long, but he saw it long enough to know she was topless in it, posed on a bed as someone took the picture of her.

Percy’s hands shook as he deleted the email and emptied his trash. He opened his messages and scrolled to Annabeth’s name, but closed the messaging app, opening the phone instead.

He waited for her to pick up, worried that she might already be asleep, but she answered after a few rings.

“I know you’re a gentleman, but you don’t need to call me to make sure I got home okay,” she teased.

“Sorry, I didn’t … I mean, that’s not why …” he couldn’t put his words in order. He hadn’t thought about what he would say to her.

“Is everything okay?” She asked.

“Did you just send me an email?” He asked her.

“No,” she said. “Why?” She suddenly sounded nervous, the playful tone gone from her voice, like she knew what he was going to say before he said it.

“Because I think someone just sent me something you wouldn’t want me to see.”  

#once upon a pointe #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth #luke castellan #charles beckendorf #Piper McLean #chiron #im very stressd about posting this chapter and the next one #send love if you liked it #cause i need it

[hopesilverheart]

Title: I loved your colours (before I loved you) Artist: @calliartss​ Rating: Explicit (Chapter 10 only) Pairings: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Alec Lightwood & Clary Fray, Clary Fray/Isabelle Lightwood Word Count: ~95k Summary: Magnus Bane is a journalist who's always dreamed of modelling for Lightwood Fashions. When the CEO Alec Lightwood starts looking for new models for their spring collection, he jumps on the occasion.

In the meantime, Alec Lightwood is struggling with the idea of finally announcing his role as co-designer. When Magnus Bane strolls into his life, Alec is torn between keeping his secret or throwing all caution to the wind.

This fic was created for the Malec Discord Mini Bang 2020.

Chapter 7: Nice to have a friend

If Magnus had thought audition day had been chaotic, it had nothing on the first photoshoot of the season.

Alec and Isabelle had warned him, of course, that the first event for a specific collection was always stressful for everyone involved, surpassed only by the final event – in this case, the March fashion show – but he hadn’t expected… this.

He hadn’t expected people running everywhere, barking out orders and moving the models around like they were pieces of furniture. He hadn’t expected Alec and Clary to be running the place like two insane captains who knew where everything was supposed to go but hadn’t told the rest of the team about their plan. He hadn’t expected Raphael, of all people, to be fidgeting restlessly as though this was the biggest event of his life.

Thankfully, he had Isabelle by his side to metaphorically hold his hand and check up on him every few minutes, keeping him as sane as he could possibly be in the midst of the floor’s disorder.

“And this happens every time?” He asked, his eyebrows raising incredulously when Isabelle, Meliorn, and Aline all nodded simultaneously. “Shouldn’t they have gotten used to the flow by now? I mean, Alexander has been in charge for quite a few years, and Clarissa has been there just as long, so I assumed…”

“That they’d be more put together?” Isabelle snorted. “Yeah, no. Look, the shoots always go well. They know what they’re doing, even when it looks like they’re panicking and the results are always amazing. Raphael will pull it together in about thirty minutes, and then we’ll be ready to start the real show.”

“The real show?” Emily asked softly. The poor girl looked like she was seconds away from bolting out of the room, only held back by the tight grip Andrew had on her hand.

“The collection reveal,” Kaelie answered blithely, rolling her eyes at the two younger models. “The pieces aren’t all ready, but this is usually the moment when Clary does her little presentation and tells us about what we’re expected to wear, who’ll be featuring on the covers…”

“I’d be lying if I said this wasn’t my favourite part of the process,” Isabelle grinned at Magnus excitedly. “My brother and Clary are always so mysterious when it comes to the collection, and they refuse to give me hints or sneak peeks, so I always love this big revelation moment. Clary is… Really talented.”

“Oh, I know,” Magnus smirked, nudging his friend in the ribs. “Although I’m sure she has quite a few talents she’d only want to show you. How are things going between the two of you?”

“What- Who told you there was something going on there?” Isabelle asked innocently, although her flushed cheeks betrayed her more than anything. “Was it Alec? Because you really shouldn’t trust everything he tells you, even if the two of you are dating and smitten and all of that.”

“Actually, Clary might have let something slip about a potential first date,” Magnus lied – he had heard about it from Alec. But Alec had heard about it from Clary, so he supposed it was close enough to the truth and less likely to freak Isabelle out. “Not that I’m surprised, since there were literal sparks flying between the two of you when you dropped by my office the other week. I’m glad you figured things out.”

“There’s no telling if this is going to work,” Isabelle mumbled. “I mean, we’re- she’s- there’s a lot of history between us, and I’m a little worried that things aren’t going to work because of it. But don’t you worry your pretty face over my love life; you have your own thing going on with my brother, and I hear it’s going quite well.”

“Yeah,” Magnus smiled softly, thinking about how good his second date with Alec had been. “Yeah, it is. By the way, can I say I’m impressed at how involved your brother is in all of this? I’ve talked to him about it a few times, but it’s rare to see a CEO actually participate in events like this one with such passion and interest. It makes him even more attractive.”

“First of all, please don’t talk about how attractive you find my brother when you have that hungry look on your face,” Isabelle grimaced. “And secondly, he just really cares about this place, and he wants to do right by Clary. Since her secret partner wants to remain secret, she needs someone else to help her out, and Alec jumped on the opportunity to spend more time with his best friend.”

“He still intimidates the hell out of me,” Andrew cut in, blushing lightly when Isabelle and Magnus turned to stare at him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but the two of you were talking right in front of us, so…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Magnus grinned. “So, Alexander intimidates you, does he?”

“He’s achieved a lot for someone so young,” Andrew shrugged, glancing over at Emily and smiling when the girl nodded along to his words. “It’s impressive, and I feel like he’s miles ahead of us even though we’re all around the same age.”

“Don’t let his fancy façade fool you,” Isabelle rolled her eyes. “Alec is great, and I’m very proud of him for taking care of this company so well, but he’s just another guy. He gets nervous before dates, struggles to dress himself in the morning, and keeps his dark secrets hidden deep in the recesses of his mind.”

“And he cries, just like the rest of us,” Meliorn added, raising his voice and winking at Alec when the man narrowed his eyes at their little group. “Nothing to be intimidated by.”

Before Andrew or Emily could get another word in, someone across the room cleared their voice loudly, waving at Clary as she jumped on top of a desk and clapped her hands once, grinning at the gathered crowd. The manic look she had sported earlier had dimmed a little, and she looked a lot more like the designer Magnus had gotten to know over the past month or so.

“Right, everyone! Thank you all for showing up on time,” she started. “I know this time of the year is always a little overwhelming for everyone involved, but I appreciate everyone who made this easier on us by doing what they were told. As you all know, our wonderful Raphael Santiago is holding the first photoshoot of the year today with our ten selected models, and we need this to go as smoothly as possible!”

As she went over the schedule for the day, repeating things Magnus had already been told ten times in the last hour, the journalist tuned her out. Alexander had just stepped back into his line of sight, and Magnus took a moment to appreciate how good he looked.

The one thing he hated about dating Alec was how busy they both were. They worked in the same building, had enough friends in common that they should have been able to go out as a group, and even had to work together with the fashion team. And yet, outside of their two dates, Magnus had only managed to see the other man three times. It was torturous, and it made moments like these even harder for Magnus.

His boyfriend – because that was what he was, as of four days earlier – was right there, close enough that Magnus would only have to take a few steps forward to be by his side, but they hadn’t even talked once today. He didn’t blame Alexander, of course, but it made him wish he didn’t have to handle all the paperwork that came with being Head Editor, and that Alec wasn’t so good at his job.

For once in his life he had something great, something worth keeping, and he somehow managed to see Alec less than he had seen Lorenzo back when he worked at Fade Media.

“You look like you’re about to either murder him or jump him,” Aline whispered directly into his ear, startling Magnus into almost knocking a mannequin over. “Someone’s jumpy. So, are things not going well between Alec and you?”

“Things are going wonderfully,” Magnus hissed back at the woman. The two of them hadn’t talked much, but she was apparently a close friend of Alec’s, and Magnus wasn’t opposed to getting to know her some more. “We call each other every night, and we try to see each other as often as possible, but it’s just…”

“It’s just that you’re both workaholics with about zero free time on your hands?” Aline chuckled. “Yeah, Alec’s been complaining about the same thing. And look, I’m no dating expert, but I’ve been in a pretty good relationship for the past few years, and I’m pretty sure talking to Alec would solve almost all your issues.”

“We don’t have issues,” Magnus rolled his eyes. They didn’t, not really, but the pace at which they were going was a lot slower than what Magnus had anticipated. “But you may have a point. Now, I think Clary is going to talk about the collection, and I really don’t want to miss this.”

He had been waiting to get a preview of the collection ever since he had been hired – maybe even before that – and all thoughts of Alexander flew out of his mind as soon as Clary brought out the few outfits that were ready to be worn.

When the team had announced that the collection would be different, Magnus had been both surprised and a little apprehensive. He had always been one for trying new things, but he hadn’t been sure why Clary and her partner had decided to change something that was working so well already. Now, though…

Looking at the few colourful pieces Clary was smiling at proudly, he realised they knew exactly what they were doing.

There were ten outfits on display, one for each of the models, and Magnus immediately knew which one was meant for him. The loose, long-sleeved blue, green, and gold shirt shimmered in the sunlight, matching the black slack pants. The pants were lined in colourful threads that were visible just under the surface perfectly complimenting the top. Magnus couldn’t keep his eyes off it.

Next to him, Isabelle was staring at the matching peacock-looking dress with awe in her eyes, and Magnus squeezed her hand in a silent show of comradery. Alec had once told him that Clary was the one who took care of the women’s line, and he wondered if Isabelle realised every dress was probably Clary’s way of declaring her love to the brunette.

“They’re stunning,” Diana breathed out, eyeing her own purple and blue gown with something like admiration in her eyes.

“We have a total of five photoshoots planned,” Clary drew everyone’s attention back to herself. “Three for high fashion, and two for slightly more casual wear. We’ll be alternating, so don’t expect all of our clothes to look like this. We know the colours are a little more prominent than usual, but rest assured that the darker and subtler shades will be coming soon. We just wanted to get the more extravagant clothes out of the way first, although some of them will have to wait a while longer. Anyways, you can come to me if you have any questions about what you’ll be wearing. Raphael, be in the studio in 5; Helen, check over the models one last time just to make sure the measurements are fine; models, we’ll be starting with Meliorn and Kaelie; everyone else, you know what you’re doing!”

Magnus could only blink as the entire floor was set into motion once more. He didn’t even protest as he was pushed towards his outfit, too busy staring at it greedily to think about the way he was being manhandled.

As he slipped the clothes on, he was suddenly struck by the fact that he had done it. He was a model for Lightwood Fashions, wearing an outfit created by his favourite designers and feeling lighter than he ever had when he worked under Lorenzo.

His fingers trembled as he smoothed over his shirt, the golden tones standing out starkly against the blue and greens every time he moved. Just as he was starting to doubt what he was doing, wondering if he would ever be good enough to wear LF clothes for a photoshoot, a pair of warm hands settled around his waist.

“Hey there,” Alec smiled at him, twisting Magnus around and kissing his cheek in greeting. “You look beautiful. You also look a little nervous, so I thought I’d try to- Well, I thought I’d come and see if there’s anything I can do to help. I know the first photoshoot is always the most nerve-wrecking, but you’re going to be amazing. I’ve never met anyone who’s as suited for this job as you are.”

“I heard that!” Isabelle exclaimed, glaring at her brother from her position a few feet away.

“Thank you, Alexander,” Magnus said warmly, leaning into his boyfriend’s touch. “Shouldn’t you be in there, cheering Kaelie and Meliorn on or making sure everything is going smoothly or something?”

“Raphael handles that,” Alec snorted. “I love the man, but he can be downright vicious when someone gets in his way during a shoot. I hope you’re ready to meet the dark side of your friend, because photographer Raphael is really something else.”

“Is this supposed to make me feel better?” Magnus asked, laughing when Alec shrugged unrepentantly. “Thank you for the warning, darling. So, what do you think of the collection? I’m assuming Clary showed it to you before, and I know you said you were excited, but do you really think this is going to be the best collection yet?”

“I hope so,” Alec answered. “And I think the collection is… nice. I mean, I saw Clary and her partner slave over it, so I always assumed it was going to be great. However, nothing quite beats seeing the outfits directly on the models, especially when the designers had someone in mind all along.”

“Ah yes, Isabelle,” Magnus grinned.

“What do- Oh, yeah, yeah, Isabelle,” Alec stammered, looking over at his sister and rolling his eyes as the young woman twirled around in her dress, laughing delightedly when the light reflected off the gold just as it did on Magnus’ shirt. “Yeah, Clary really outdid herself. Although really, her favourite ones are always the red outfits. That’s when she goes all out to make sure Isabelle looks perfect.”

“Why the peacock colours, then?” Magnus inquired curiously. “If she prefers Isabelle in red…”

“Well, she does have a partner,” Alec pointed out, chuckling when Magnus turned to stare at him innocently. “Nice try, but you’re not getting anything out of me, especially not today. We need everything to go perfectly, and that won’t happen if you’re pestering me for information on her secret partner or if you’re gushing about finally solving the mystery of their identity.”

“I thought you were here to distract me from the impending photoshoot,” Magnus sighed. “You know, I’m going to get their name out of you eventually, even if it takes me months.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Alec huffed, his gaze both fond and a little nervous. “But until then, your only job is to look pretty for the cameras, make sure Raphael doesn’t rip you apart with his words, and have amazing chemistry with my little sister. Seriously though, you look beautiful, and I’m sure you’re going to be perfect in there.”

“Thank y-”

“Magnus, Isabelle, get in here now!” Raphael yelled from his studio door, smiling brittlely at Kaelie and Meliorn as they stepped out of the room. “We don’t have all day!”

Magnus sent a panicked look in Alexander’s direction but his boyfriend was grinning at him mischievously and gently pushing him towards Raphael, so he grumbled and grabbed Isabelle’s arm as he headed for the studio.

The last thing he heard before Raphael shut the door behind them was Alec’s wicked laughter.

***

“You’re not welcome on this side of the booth, Santiago!” Magnus exclaimed as his friend moved towards them, drinks in hand. “Seriously, you can be Cat’s responsibility tonight; I don’t even want to look at you. You should take that time to think about everything you’ve done wrong.”

“It’s my job, Magnus,” Raphael rolled his eyes, although he dutifully took the spot next to Catarina instead of his usual seat next to Magnus. “I’m sorry I had to snap at you a little bit, but you’re a beginner model and there was no way we were going to get things done on time if I had been your friend rather than your photographer. Besides, Isabelle found it hilarious.”

“Of course she did,” Magnus huffed. “She wasn’t the one being reprimanded every time she so much as tilted her head the wrong way. Be honest, were you being harder on me because you’re my friend, or were you just being your usual delightful self?”

“I was harder on you because Isabelle is a better model,” Raphael drawled, smirking when Magnus glared at him viciously. “Look, Magnus, you’re a handsome guy and the pictures turned out great, but you needed a little guidance and that’s what I’m there to do.”

“With great power comes great responsibility,” Catarina nodded sagely, high-fiving Raphael underneath the table and ignoring Magnus’ disgruntled scoff. “Oh, cheer up, Mags! You’re going to be on the front cover of your own magazine, and everyone is going to adore you. So what if Raphael was a little harsh with you? It’s not like you weren’t expecting it.”

Sometimes, Magnus really hated having a friend who was always right. He had been warned repeatedly about Raphael’s behaviour in the studio; both my Raphael himself and by the fashion team. It was his fault for thinking that being friends with the man would grant him immunity or something of the sort.

“Those photos had better be perfect, Santiago,” he grumbled, taking a sip of his drink and letting the alcohol burn down his throat pleasantly. “And has anyone heard from Ragnor? I swear that cabbage arrives late on purpose.”

“He likes his dramatic entrances,” Catarina shrugged. “Besides, you know he’s busy with work; he’s probably just stuck in traffic somewhere on the other side of town. We might as well enjoy our last moments of peace before he comes in and starts talking our ears off with work-talk.”

“I though we banned work-talk from the table,” Magnus frowned. They had had this exact conversation at least twenty times in the past year, and the result was always the same; they would follow the rules for a few weeks, forget about the rule, and get into an argument about their jobs before reinstating the rather smart rule.

“And you already broke it once tonight,” Cat pointed out, staring between him and Raphael exasperatedly. “I’ll even let you start your fight up again at some point if you let Ragnor bitch about his colleagues for a little while. He doesn’t get out of the office enough, and you know he gets all offended when we tell him to stop talking about work, so…”

“Fine,” Raphael mumbled. “But don’t you dare complain when he starts going on a rant about Dot, because you brought this upon yourself.”

“I won’t say a word,” Catarina zipped her mouth shut. “And on that note, how about we stop talking about your photoshoot and start discussing something a little more important. Say… Your goddaughter, for example. It’s been two and a half weeks Magnus.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Magnus winced. He had been meaning to get better now that he had a new job, but he had greatly overestimated his scheduling abilities. “I’m trying to get more free time, but everything is crazy at wo-”

“I know,” Cat cut him off. “You’ve told me about it at least thirty times this week, mostly when you were complaining about not being able to see your pretty boy as much as you want to. But, as you should also know by now, Madzie can only take the work excuse for so long before she starts thinking that you’re deliberately blowing us off. She misses you, Magnus.”

“I miss her too,” he sighed.

As much as Magnus wanted to promise her that he would do better, that he would find the time to see Madzie during the week and make it up to her… he couldn’t. He barely had the time to sleep now that the spring collection was well underway and the models were solicited at every corner. On top of that, the media team had to cover the articles relating to the fashion team’s progress, which meant even more work for him.

Magnus was only awake thanks to copious amounts of coffee and the reminder that he had chosen this for himself. He had been the one to decide to take the Head Editor position on top of the modelling one – hell, he was the one who had pushed for it – and he knew he couldn’t screw either of them up, not even for Madzie. Maybe that made him a bad godfather, but he was truly trying his best.

“What am I supposed to tell her, Magnus?” Catarina shook her head at him sadly. “When you worked for Fade Media, I could at least make her feel better by telling her that you would much rather be with her than working for that lizard, but now… Now you’re happy, you’re thriving, and you’re doing it without her. I get that you love your new job, and I couldn’t be more delighted for you, but Madzie needs you. Please, just a few hours sometime in the upcoming week. It doesn’t even have to be half a day.”

Magnus opened his mouth to tell her this week really wasn’t the greatest time, but then a thought hit him. He hadn’t exactly been hiding Alexander from his friends; they knew he was dating the young CEO and had all asked him plenty of invasive question, but he also hadn’t introduced them to him.

It mostly had to do with how busy Alec was, even more so than Magnus, but he also hadn’t been sure that introducing Catarina and Alexander to each other was a good idea. They were terrifyingly similar at times, and Magnus wasn’t sure he would be able to survive a combined onslaught from two of his favourite people in the world.

However, Catarina had a point; he needed to spend time with Madzie. On the other hand, he also needed to spent time with Alexander, and his wonderful boyfriend had managed to get them both some time off for a date that week. They hadn’t decided on anything quite yet, which meant…

“Alec and I could spend some time with her on Thursday,” he blurted out, grimacing at the incredulous stare Raphael sent his way. “We have a few hours off work thanks to Alec’s connections to the CEO – and by CEO I mean his mother, not him – and I’m not sure when I’ll be able to take more, so… I know you haven’t met him yet, but he’s a great guy.”

“He really is,” Raphael added, somehow sounding both genuine and like it was the last thing he had wanted to say out loud. “Lightwood is a trustworthy guy, and he’s great with kids. I’m sure Madzie would love him.”

“You’re sure Madzie would love who?”

Magnus perked up unconsciously at the sound of Ragnor’s voice. It had been far too long since he had last seen his oldest friend, and he hadn’t realised how much he had missed the man until he slid into the seat next to Magnus and ruffled his hair fondly.

No matter how much he hated the way Ragnor still tended to treat him like a child, he had to admit there was something reassuring in how familiar the gesture was. After having dealt with new experiences and new people non-stop for the past month, it was nice to be surrounded by the people he loved most, spending a night in the same bar they had frequented since they were 21 and barely old enough to drink.

“We were talking about Magnus’ new boyfriend,” Catarina grinned. “And how he’s apparently great with kids. Although that’s according to Raphael, so who knows how true that piece of information is.”

“Ah yes, the infamous Alexander Lightwood,” Ragnor hummed, making Magnus turn towards his two other friends with betrayal written all over his face. “Were they not meant to tell me? Were you going to keep him a secret from your oldest friend? You wound me, Magnus.”

“I wanted to tell you myself,” he said, punctuating his words with a sharp glare towards Raphael and Catarina. “Which one of you caved first? Or did you not even try to keep it a secret? You know, I do occasionally like talking to Ragnor about important things in my life without having someone else blurt the whole thing out unashamedly.”

Really, it was no secret that Catarina was the one who had told Ragnor about Magnus’ relationship, but they all liked to maintain a semblance of surprise when the woman cracked and apologised for her actions. Her inability to lie and hide things was her biggest flaw, and Magnus should have known better than to trust her with something like his boyfriend.

“I’m sorry,” she exclaimed less than a minute later, batting her eyelashes at Magnus apologetically. “I know I should have let you have your moment, but I mean Alexander Lightwood. There aren’t a lot of people out there who could rival you in charm and beauty, but Lightwood is definitely right up there on the list. Besides, I didn’t know how long it would be until we saw Ragnor again, and I didn’t think it was fair to keep him in the dark.”

“Ragnor, my sweet cabbage, would it have hurt your feelings if you had only found out about Alexander tonight?” Magnus asked, crossing his arms over his chest and not looking away from Catarina as their friend answered in the negative. “And this, Catarina, is why I won’t tell you about my proposal beforehand. At least when I break news, I do it in a fantastic way. I bet you told Ragnor over the phone.”

“She told me over the phone,” Ragnor confirmed, winking at Catarina when she grumbled at him mutinously. “But for what it’s worth, I’m happy for you. I’ll want to meet this young millionaire soon, but Catarina seems to think he brings you joy, so congratulations on finally finding your soulmate.”

“He’s not my- I mean, there’s no telling yet if he’s the right one for me,” Magnus said as nonchalantly as possible, even though his heart was beating wildly at the thought of spending the rest of his life with Alexander. “We’ve only been on two dates, and we’re taking things slow, and we still have plenty of time before we talk about the future of our relationship.”

“You’re taking things slow?” Raphael’s eyebrows flew up as he spoke. “You and Alec are two of the most impatient people I have ever met; how on earth are you taking things slow? The guy’s such a romantic, I thought he would have already asked you to move in by now. Besides, don’t you see each other every day at work?”

“Not every day,” Magnus shrugged, trying – and failing – to keep the bitterness out of his tone. “Sometimes it feels like fate is mocking us. It put this perfect man right in front of me, a man who actually likes me back, and now it keeps putting obstacles in our path and making it impossible for us to meet up.”

“And by fate, I’m sure you mean the LF Spring Collection,” Raphael snorted. “The company is never busier than in the two months leading up to a release. It’s like clockwork, really. January, April, July, and October are the emptiest months of the year. The fashion team works on designs, but other than that events are pretty rare. February, May, August, and November are on the complete opposite side of the spectrum; the collection is in the works, the designers are trying to finish it on time, the entire team is busy setting things up for the release… A nightmare, I tell you. And the release months are usually a nice in between. So just wait another month and you’ll have Alec all to yourself.”

“There’s no way I’m signing up to be a model for the summer collection,” Magnus groaned. “Alec can turn his hopeful eyes on me all he wants, but I’m not putting myself through that two times in a row. He’ll have to find himself another model to pose with Isabelle.”

“If you don’t want to do it again, he won’t push,” Raphael pointed out smartly. “You know he would never force anyone to do something they don’t like.”

“Sounds like a good guy,” Ragnor piped up, smiling fondly at Magnus and Raphael. “I’m glad the two of you have him in your life, although I wish you would have introduced him to us earlier, Raphael, then maybe Magnus could have been happy years ago.”

“But he would have ruined their perfect fairy tale meeting,” Catarina smirked. “I mean, Magnus did some very dubious things to get to where he is right now, but he’s modelling for Alec’s company and basically running the entire Lightwood media team. That probably wouldn’t have happened if Raphael had dragged him along to a work event when he first started out as the Lightwoods’ photographer.”

“Dubious things…?”

“We don’t need to talk about that,” Magnus chuckled nervously as matching devious glints entered Raphael and Catarina’s eyes. “Really, we should talk about something else, like why Alexander and I are taking things slow and what I can do to make things move along just a little bit faster.”

“Talk to him,” Raphael deadpanned. “Problem solved.”

“Kiss him,” Catarina added. “Wait, you have kissed him, right?”

“Who do you take me for, Cat? Of course I’ve kissed him.” Magnus huffed, deflating when his best friend only stared at him, unconvinced.. “Alright fine, so what if I didn’t kiss him? We’re taking things slow! I was going to kiss him after our first date, but it didn’t seem right. Besides, what do you want me to do? Make out with him in front of all his colleagues? That’s a terrible idea, and it’s not happening. What if we get carried away?”

“And what if you do?” Ragnor snorted. “It’s not like you’ve ever been against trying new things. God, imagine the possibilities… In his office, in your office, in the elevator, in the closet or wherever else they keep the clothes, in Raphael’s studio-”

“Absolutely not,” Raphael cut the older man off. “Don’t even think about it, Bane. There are cameras in there, and I will know if you snuck inside to have sex with my boss. Now, as riveting as this conversation about your painfully non-existent sex life is, I really think Ragnor should get the full story of how you obtained your job as Lightwood Media’s Head Editor.”

“We really don’t need to-”

“Oh no, please, I want to hear this,” Ragnor smiled wickedly, leaning back in his seat and gesturing for Raphael to go on.

Magnus groaned loudly and slammed his head onto the table, wondering if there was even a chance that his friends would ever forget about this particularly unbrilliant idea. If the way Catarina was already laughing silently was anything to go by, he didn’t think so.

#malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #fanfic #my writing

[sincerelymarinette]

A Recorded Life (17/50) - Miraculous Ladybug

Words: 1841 Chapter Summary: Chat Noir and Ladybug watch the video Chat got to be in, and he is excited out of his mind! Following that, Marinette gives Alya a fun gift for their friendship anniversary- does she regret it? Even if she does, her fans will still freak out over the gift. Author's Note: i LOVE writing the comments on Mari's videos. they're so much fun to just fangirl and i live for it. also i went from having no pre written parts to like 5 so yall better be ready some shiz is about to start

Prev / Next / Masterlist

Alya Made Us Do It...Reading Fanfiction

---

Ladybug walked the rooftops as she waited for Chat Noir to appear. She knew he would, he was so excited about the video, and she knew he wanted her to see it.

It was only a few minutes of Ladybug walking around until she heard Chat Noir land behind her. "Ladybug! She posted the video!" He called out to her.

"Why else would I be out here? I want to see it," Ladybug replied.

"Perfect," Chat Noir nodded to the bag around his shoulder. "I brought a screen a little bigger than your yo-yo," He chuckled.

The two found a secluded spot so they could sit and watch the video, and Chat Noir was buzzing with excitement. He was grateful that Marinette decided to upload the video, despite all the people that would ship them together. He, as Adrien, knew she was unsure of posting it, and he was glad he could convince her to go through with it.

He pulled his computer out of the bag and quickly pulled up the video. "Hey! I'm Marinette!" The video started, a big smile on Chat's face. Marinette had already seen this video a hundred times through editing, but it was a whole different experience hearing Chat Noir talk about everything that went on and pause the video every few seconds.

Marinette had yet to look at many of the comments, since she had only posted it a few minutes before, but she was sure it was already flooded. She saw the few before she transformed, but she was sure more were produced by the second.

She was excited that Chat Noir was so happy with the video and she knew he would be talking to her about it for the next month.

---

Directly following Alya's birthday was her's and Marinette's friendship anniversary. They had a nice dinner together and watched all the movies they could get in on a school night, bringing it back to the times before life got crazy.

But now, a day after, it was the real-time for Marinette to give Alya her present. She told Alya a few weeks ago she could choose a video topic for them, and she was not going to veto it. Marinette got her a real gift as well, but this was a bonus. She regretted it immediately when she saw Alya's sinister smile.

For some reason, Adrien and Nino were also there for the video. This only worried Marinette more about what Alya picked to do.

"Hi! I'm Marinette!" She greeted the camera as her three friends sat around her. "And I have no clue what we are doing today. For our friendship anniversary, I let her choose a video, and I had to go through with it. All I know is that she has a sinister look, a bulky folder, and Nino and Adrien are here," She said as the boys waved and turned to Alya. "Would you care to explain?"

Alya rubbed her hands together and held the folder against her chest. "I've seen a lot of YouTuber's do this, and I have been dying to get you to do it, but I knew you would never agree," She set up the scene. "I love your fanbase; everyone is great. I scoured the internet for the best things for this video, and have selected five. We are reading fanfiction about us," Alya declared.

"What?" Marinette screamed as Adrien and Nino started giggling in the background.

"Trust me, boys, neither of you are safe," Alya confirmed to them. "And Nino, just because we're together doesn't mean you get it easy. There is only one Alya 'x' Nino, and it's in the background of an Adrienette story," Alya winked, then turned back to the camera. "Yes, I have read these to make sure they are suitable. And yes, I have a secret Marinette fan account."

Marinette sat in embarrassment with her head in her hands, not sure how this whole event would go. Alya opened the folder and passed around scripts. "We'll start easy," She said, and on the top of the paper, it read ALYANETTE. "The only ship in this is Marinette and me; you guys are just extra characters."

Nino sat back in his chair. "Oh, thank god."

"Just wait, Nino," Alya joked to her boyfriend. Adrien was quiet, not sure how to react to this whole situation. He was surprised Marinette was actually letting Alya go through with this.

"Let's just get this over with," Marinette said as she tried to hide her beet-red face. "Who's narrating?"

Adrien looked up. "I can," He volunteered. And with that, the story began.

Marinette felt like she was having an out of body experience reading the lines and acting out with her friends. She had ideas of what Alya could have chosen, but nothing prepared her for all that was to come. The one between her and Alya was adorable, and she wasn't too nervous, but it was when she brought out the one with ADRIENETTE written on the top. Marinette had mainly got over her crush on Adrien since they are such good friends now, but the butterflies in her stomach proved different.

Alya started narrating as the scene was being set up and she could tell they were getting nervous to read their parts. Luckily, it started out with Nino and Alya talking about getting the two together, so it gave them some time to prepare mentally. Alya was eating this up, because she would do this exact thing in the story if she could. Marinette knows her plans and can stop her before she even starts, trying to prove she doesn't like Adrien like that anymore.

Between the tomato colored faces and slight stuttering, Alya was sure this was going to cause never-ending stories about them, and she was perfectly happy with that. She did, however, let them finish the story a little earlier because it was becoming a bit much. "I'll let you guys off the hook this time, but that's become I'm about to pull out the big guns!" She pulled out her next story, with a big MARICHAT written on the top. "Of course, I will be playing the role of Chat Noir. I have figured out the Ladybug and Chat Noir fanfiction writers have come up with how they are outside of costume. And for some reason, they believe Chat Noir's name is Felix. So, I will be portraying Felix Noir," Alya winked at Marinette.

Adrien felt a sigh of relief wash over him when Alya said she would be reading for Chat Noir. Sure, she had no reason to make him read for Chat, but it was still freaking him out with the possibility. He's pretty sure he blacked out while that whole story was being read.

The team suffered through Alya's evil plans as they finished reading the stories. The second Adrienette story was more fluff, and it seemed like it was an all-around friends story, it didn't hit too much romance, which was a nice break. The last story came out of nowhere: A Nino and Marinette story. Some people really liked the idea that they've known each other the longest in the group and would write about that. There were only a few, but all of them were adorable. It was probably the most fun for the group to read.

"And...that was my last one," Alya announced and let the group breath. "For now. If the people like this though, maybe we'll do one of those Tumblr things where we look up our names and ships to see what people post! Right, Marinette?" She pleaded, making puppy-dog eyes.

Marinette sighed loudly. "If it's what the people want," She gave in. "Make sure to leave a comment if you'd like us to do something like this again in the future. And don't forget to like and subscribe for more! You can check out all our social media with the links on our faces, or all of our information in the description. Thank you guys for watching, and this was a lesson never to give Alya control over a video again!" Marinette ended, getting up to shut off the camera.

Switching back into French mode, she grabbed a pillow and screamed into it. "NEVER LET ALYA CONTROL THINGS AGAIN!"

"But it was so much fun!" Alya argued, also back in French.

"Interesting is the word," Adrien said.

Nino sat there, staring as he waited for this whole day to be over. He was scarred.

---

ALYA KNOWS WHAT WE WANT AND WE WANT FANFICTION i need them on tumblr next

i literally ship all of these this was the best video i have ever watched thank you Alya you are a god

im still stuck on the fact that Alya says she has a fan account for Marinette. She's among us. you can't trust anyone!!!

I have a feeling Marinette knows Chat Noir's true identity. When Alya starts talking about the fandom's names for them, she tensed up when she talked about Felix. Is this a hint that his name is actually felix? Or confirmation that it isnt? Either way, she knows

So marinette when are you gonna tell us you and chat noir are a thing

mariNETTE DO YOU KNOW WHO CHAT NOIR IS? ARE YOU GUYS TOGETHER?

i would literally do anything for her to tell us she knows who chat is and/or confirm the rumors of their relationship

You aren't even trying to hide it anymore that you and chat noir are dating, are you? First, the video with him. You always defend him to the end. Then we get some pictures of chat leaving your balcony. Now we get you reading a fanfic of you and him. give up the secret already!

Me: I love adrienette and would die for them You: *indirectly makes it clear that you and chat noir are dating* Me: I love adreinette and would die for them

To all you people saying marichat is a thing, don't you realize they only read one marichat fic but TWO adrienette fics? If anything, adrienette is more likely. that or alya is just pushing them lol

marinette please confirm or deny your relationship status. it's tearing the fandom apart with all the debates. please. also, the fandom is exploding bc people think you know who chat noir is. please confirm or deny before we all split!!!

Marinette sat back in shock as she read the sea of comments on the fanfiction video. Where was all of this coming from? What did she do to imply she knows Chat Noir under the mask, let alone make her fans think they are dating? She was freaking out, and as much as Tikki tried to calm her down, nothing was working. She needed to talk to someone, and knew Alya was stressed about school and probably sleeping. Scrolling back up past her name, she clicked the second "A" contact in her list. She just needed someone to talk to.

---

@lady-of-the-roses-and-lilies @bookishserendipity03 @avatheexceed @gkz10 @coccinellegirl @kat-thatoneweirdo @strawberryblondish @snow-swordswoman @lilgaga98 @evufries

#marichat #adrienette #ladynoir #ladrien #Miraculous #mlb #ml #miraculous ladybug #ladybug #chat noir #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe #miraculous fanfic #fanfiction #lilly writes #adrien x marinette #adrien agreste x marinette dupain-cheng #a recorded life

[hellyeahomeland]

“Two Minutes” | Directed by Tucker Gates, Cinematography by Giorgio Scali

[This week remained hectic as heck so we are keeping the more casual format. --Sara]

Sara: Opening (or closing) with a Carrie mirror shot is classic Homeland and I love to see it! She looks very tired. I hope when the series is over, Carrie takes a long nap. But not, y’know, the LONG long nap.

Gail: If this shot is a look into her current emotional state, which I think it most definitely is, she looks tired but determined. She hasn’t been out of that rehab center for very long, you have to wonder how her medications are working, because it’s clear she isn’t getting enough sleep. But good God--Claire Danes is gorgeous!

Gail: When I watched this scene I had a few realizations. At first I thought the red thing in front of the water glass was a pill but when I zoomed in it looks like floss. Then it occurred to me that we haven’t seen Carrie taking her meds or listening to jazz this season. This version of Carrie seems very stripped down (no pun intended). No mentions of seeing her family or FaceTiming Franny either. I don’t know what any of this means yet, but pointing it out for future context.

Sara: Floss? Whoulda thunk? I love this very obviously photoshopped (or whatever the video equivalent of that is… CGI?) scene of “mourners” gathering outside the White House.

Gail: I loved this opening shot of Max with his back to us... much like the donkey at the end of the episode, he has the flight recorder strapped to his back via a backpack and he treks uphill. I love the pop of color from the flight recorder and Max’s backpack in this desert-like scene. The importance in this shot is all about knowing where the flight recorder is and less about who is carrying it. Although I’m sure everyone joined us in a sign of relief to see Max still alive!

Sara: Chekhov’s flight recorder! I’m thinking of other significant objects on the show (like Brody’s vest), but none have gotten the attention that this dang flight recorder is getting. Also, Max writing his name in sharpie on his backpack is big younger child energy.

Sara: As someone who wears glasses, I really admire that Max is always, without fail, wearing his. No matter how sweaty he is. I love you, Max! 

Gail: It is very interesting how every time Saul is kidnapped, his glasses are taken from him, but Max gets to keep his (for now at least?). Maybe there is a metaphor there about how Max isn’t losing sight of the bigger picture?

Sara: IJLTP, and it’s the first of a few POV shots this week. Max really is like an audience stand-in and this makes it even more literal.

Gail: IJLTP too! Such a great shot.

Sara: They had a shot very similar to this in Keane’s speech from “Paean to the People.” I really love how you can see how very manufactured this all is. Not that any of us need to be reminded of that…

Gail: The focus of this scene starts with the people behind it. I love that, because while the President is what the people are watching, he’s getting his cues and information from everyone else. In “Chalk One Up” we saw the theater of the peace announcement. Here we see the theater of the new president making his first speech. It’s all just words until the intentions behind them are realized.

Sara: Some of the keywords here: 

Bust

MARTA (the “mass” “transit” “system” in Atlanta… where my Atlanta homies at?)

Body scanner

Narcos

Influenza

Plot

Gail: If these keywords are a part of the search for Max, shouldn’t his name be on it? Or American? No wonder Carrie was pissed! Get with it, Lonnie! 

Sara: I know this is a stunt double, but it’s still meant to be Carrie, and Carrie riding this motorcycle so awesomely is one of the most badass things about her. We have no choice but to stan. 

Gail: What a cool payoff to all of the scenes and allusions of Carrie leaving the station undetected. Girl is resourceful, no doubt.

Sara: Are these wide shots so that Costa Ronin, who is apparently nine feet tall, and Claire Danes would both fit in the frame? Also, “I just like how he leans.” 

Gail: I think the shot might be indicative of their power dynamic. But I agree with you, Yevgeny’s consistent nonchalance is such a great character detail.

Gail: Interesting that by the end of their scene, Yevgeny sits down, making his body language less threatening. He enjoys these games with Carrie a little too much for my liking.

Sara: That smirk…

Sara: The framing here is really interesting. G’ulom sitting casually while Saul and Scott Ryan stand stick straight, almost obediently (ironically), is really striking. G’ulom has these almost angelic white curtains behind him while Saul and Scott are cloaked in shadows.

Gail: This feels different from Yevgeny’s casual nonchalance. I get the sense here that G’ulom is sitting out of lack of respect for the people standing before him. G’ulom turned his back on platitudes the second he turned his back on Ambassador Gaeto in the opening of “Chalk Two Down.” He only stands at the end of the scene to exert his power over Saul and General Ryan.

Sara: And then this shot, which is incredible. Centering G’ulom in the frame really emphasizes his power.

Gail: Such a great POV shot to see Saul and General Ryan’s reactions to G’ulom.

Sara: ...and I love the specific choreography of Saul and Scott both exiting so that their bodies are hidden behind G’ulom. I feel like Homeland doesn’t do shots this stylized that often so when they do it feels all the more impactful. 

Gail: I find it so interesting that G’ulom has turned his back on the audience too. 

Gail: I love the glimpses of the relationship between Mike and Jenna. Is this how Saul and Carrie started out?

Sara: Oof, ya think? I didn’t even think about their relationship in that context (maybe because the age gap is not as great) but now that you say it... I find it a really interesting way to shoot this, almost like we’re eavesdropping on them eavesdropping on Carrie. I love when Homeland returns to themes of surveillance. 

Sara: Why onions? Because we’re peeling the layers of this story. (I’ll see myself out.)

Gail: OMG, Sara! You are right, they are onions! I’m ashamed to say I thought they were beets. (Thanks, Dwight.)

Gail: When Fibrooz, Max’s captor, reaches for Max’s wrist in this scene, I thought he was going to unlock the cuffs. Doesn’t bode well for Max that this guy is all about making a buck.

Sara: Major Carrie in “Why Is This Night Different?” vibes. The framing is almost identical. This continues some of the role reversal of Carrie and Max this year.

Gail: I love the details in this shot and the one of the market shelves. It looks like a random assortment of remotes and calculators and jars on shelves, but it’s actually very organized.

Sara: Are they selling remote controls without the TVs that they control? 

Sara: Chekhov’s flight recorder strikes again! Sorry, I have nothing intelligent to say about the device of this damn flight recorder because I find it so freaking hilarious. 

Gail: I love how we are seeing the journey of this flight recorder and all of the different people who are getting their hands on it.

Sara: This show is really making me feel sympathy for Haqqani, which is completely wild. Look how he’s softly dressed in the light here. Total character rehab happening this season on all fronts. Numan Acar has infused him with a real weariness and softness that’s added so many new layers to what was once just a classic villain. 

Gail: I agree, Numan Acar has done an outstanding job with his portrayal of Haqqani. The writers approach to softening him has paired wonderfully with the direction of the show and has led to great shots like this of Haqqani, the man and father.

Sara: Gail pointed this out on the podcast. As the conversation progresses and Hayes veers off script he literally turns away from Linus. Subtle but effective. The use of body language this season has been pretty great.

Gail: The choreography has been fantastic, I agree. Wellington has ditched his suit and has rolled up his sleeves. His calm demeanor and thoughtful counsel that we’ve come to know about him is clearly about to be tested.

Sara: IJLTP.

Gail: When one door (seemingly) closes, another one opens.

Sara: IJLTP.

Gail: The blue lights behind her are gorgeous.

Sara: “CATASTROPHIC ERROR” 

Gail: The details! And much foreshadowing!

Gail: Things start out friendly and at a distance and then we rapidly move into tighter shots as Mike reveals to Saul just how bad the optics are for Carrie right now.

Sara: This is such a lovely shot and I love all Homeland rooftop scenes. Sometimes Carrie’s smoking, sometimes she’s having a panic attack, sometimes both things are happening at once. See how I turned this into a thing about Carrie? 

Sara: I don’t know if this is a new choice by Claire, but recently I feel like Carrie has a habit of literally turning away from difficult conversations. Anyway, this Carrie/Saul scene was incredible.

Gail: There has been a subtle shift to her personality this season. It must be hard to face her new reality and looking at Saul has to be one of the more daunting reminders of what it used to be.

Sara: It struck my while watching (and rewatching and rewatching) that Saul is literally the only human on the planet who could have this conversation with her. He knows when to push and when to relent, when to raise his voice and when to lower it. He really does manage her. Likewise, she knows when and where to strike. It goes without saying that Claire and Mandy are incredible here. This scene is really a testament to how invaluable the foundation of watching two characters (and actors) develop a relationship, in real time, over ten years, is for the audience. It massively enhances the performances and the dramatic weight of the scene. 

Gail: Sara!! You are buying into my Ivan/Saul convo theory (from “A False Glimmer”)!! I agree with everything you said and would add that with all of that being true, Saul can’t possibly think Carrie is getting on that plane back to rehab willingly.

(Sara: Guess he should have gotten the handcuffs then...)

Gail: What a stunning shot. I gasped when I saw it. Not because Haqqani was turning himself in. That I expected. But how Carrie witnesses it and reacts to it. The last time Carrie was that close to Haqqani she almost shot him. I Khan’t believe how much things have changed.

Sara: Gail, khan you not? Anyway, I agree, it’s a stunning shot. I can’t properly articulate why I love it so much so: IJLTP.

Sara: I know the show did something like when Carrie woke up from being drugged in “Why Is This Night Different?” I won’t check, because I don’t care to revisit that episode ever again. Gail, can you verify? 

Gail: They did and it was eerily similar. Big difference though: Quinn was saving/protecting Carrie and Fibrooz is most definitely not doing the same for Max.

Gail: The bookend to the opening scene with Max. The flight recorder has made its way into another backpack, heading up a mountain. I LOVE the color in this scene and how the flight recorder is on a JOURNEY.

Sara: Quite possibly the funniest scene on this show ever.

Gail: This spy is heading into the cold...

Sara: “Carrie, no!” … “CARRIE YES!”

Gail: Yevgeny’s (partly faux) nonchalance (he sneaks a peek!) and Carrie’s focused stare say so much without saying a word. No looking out the window for Carrie this time, we know where her mind is at.

Sara: Carrie stares straight ahead. Yevgeny can’t help but turn and look at her. Truly iconic. I know I say that about everything, but this really is I-CON-IC! 

#homeland #homelandedit #in the director's chair #two minutes #* #by: sara #by: gail

[alitheamateur]

A Taste of Home

Summary: Amelia Calvert is a Boston-born girl returning home after the sur turn of events in her marriage. Her life is turned upside down, leaving her nearly broke, jobless for the most part, and sleeping in the childhood bedroom of her parents home. As if things weren’t shaken up enough for Millie, a familiar face discovers her return to the city, and her world turns to the happiest, most confusing whirlwind of shambles. 

Characters: Chris Evans X OFC

Warnings: Slight age gap (9ish years). Language

Back home. Back to square one. Back like things never changed.

Except everything had. You were returning without a job, no abode of your own, and a nixed husband. It was all supposed to be under wraps, but whispers spread like an unrelenting rash. The bad kind of rash that you never want to have to call an ex about… Your city may be a big one, one supposed to be above and beyond all that small-town “he said, she said” nonsense. But, gossip found it’s place no matter the zip code, and you just happened to be square in the center of it.

You much preferred Boston to the sweltering air of rural Texas, but the things we do for love, huh? Your husbands’ home-base office happened to stand in the city of Austin, and at the time, you would’ve followed him to Tim-buck-too had it been necessary. “At the time” meaning before you found him on all fours, belt loose around the ankles with his paralegal. You’d had her in your home, schmoozing her with expensive wine, and an overpaid caterer because you didn’t want to poison her with your shit concoctions in the kitchen. “At the time” anyway….

Leaving your soon to be ex-husband without so much as a “see you later”, Boston called your name. And for the time being, so did your old room on the upstairs floor of your parent’s house. You chose for a few months at least to believe those clichés about “never being too old to go home.”

Your travel blog hadn’t quite caught on with the public yet, and since your divorce wouldn’t be final for countless days, money was nearly nonexistent. You were separating from a lawyer, too. Meaning a substantial monetary settlement in your favor was highly unlikely.

Thankfully, you always had a place at Calvert’s Cup, your family owned coffee shop just a mere 4 blocks from your childhood home. The familiar solace of the place was comforting, and the warm, fuzzy smell of the house blend soothes your aching, confused heart, as well. Sure, the little downward brows of pity from the nosey morning crowd who’d made it a freaking special ops mission to discover your reason for returning to Boston wore you out. But, there was no stopping them. No way, no how. So, you played on with your best smile, and did your due diligence around the little shop.

 One Tuesday, with the rain pouring outside like the coffee at morning rush, and thunder rumbling against the loose panes of the front window, you ran back to the register once hearing the twinkling of the entry bell. Your line of sight never raised as you greeted the patron approaching your counter.

 “Morning. What can I do for you?”

 A cackling, raspy outburst and the clapping of a heavy set of hands swiped your attention.

 “Hold on a fucking minute.” The yelping announcement from the very familiar male voice instantly made you want to fall into a cave never to see the light of day again.

 You’d know that loud, Boston city charm anywhere. You swiped a loose lock of hair around the curve of your ear, hoping to God your face didn’t appear as heated & humiliated as it felt.

 Chris, the always handsome kid that lived two doors down from you your entire childhood, in the flesh & very much grown up. Of course, you were highly aware since his face frequented any slimy gossip column on the newsstand weekly. The two of you hadn’t been extremely tight knit in the category of friends almost 15 years ago since he’d been a handful of years older. But he was a face you spent many an hour daydreaming about.

 “Amelia Calvert, in the flesh. God, how long’s it been!? What are you doing here?” He smiled, shaking off the mist of rain settling on his coat.

 Yeah, what are you doing here? Let’s hear it. And don’t leave out that part about moving back in with your parents. That’ll be a real smash.

 “I uh... I’m back here now. For good, most likely. Some things have just.... well, changed recently.”

 Before he had time to retort, his pocket chimed. Pulling the telephone culprit loose, he checked the screen and dismissed its interruption.

 “Well, well. How ‘bout that? I’m sure your mom is ecstatic. I know how chipper my mom gets when I’m in town for a break.”

 The valley girl in you wanted to squeal a little. He was unfathomably handsome, decked in a dark shaded baseball cap, and a shirt resembling the same. The beard was new, but inexplicably welcomed.

 He was simply, well, just Chris. The choir boy who made everyone laugh, and whose house the entire school knew had the best parties. You remember him typically strumming a guitar, and starring in the lead role for every drama club production. Not a single person could ever deny his natural born taking to the stage. And all these years later, the stars, and that damn near perfect beard, had fallen perfectly into the place for him.

 You could feel the metal clasp of your diamond earrings warming against the bashful heat of your blush. Here you were, tied into a stained apron, dry-shampoo caked in your fitful hair, smudges of whipped-cream splattered on the glasses you usually never wore in public, standing in front of a literal A-list celebrity. When were the stars supposed to fall into place for you? Those bastards.

“She’s loving it. She and dad both. I did miss the place…”

“What brings you back anyways? Florida, was it?” He questioned cocking a thick eyebrow, endearing little wrinkles appearing above his left eye.

“Texas, actually. Yeah, it was Texas. I guess it was uh, it was just time to hang up my cowboy hat.”

It drew a belly laugh out of him, and he flapped a hand over his stony peck as if to choke back his uproarious reaction. You needed to feel a laugh like that. But instead, as of late, you were only the butt of such laughter.

His incessant mobile buzzed out again, this time in the palm of his hand.

“Hey, a large house blend, please. 2 sugars would be great.” He politely whispered, muffling the speaker of his phone.

Chris moseyed in circles a few feet from the counter, far enough to make your eavesdropping much more challenging as you appeared to innocently make his order to go. He still talked with his hands, boisterously tossing his head about. That had to be the theater upbringing in him. He may live up to his lax, ‘go with the flow’ reputation, but he definitely had a thing for the dramatic, as well.

You sealed the lid tightly on his biodegradable cup, marking his name across the side with your sharpie, and without thinking, dotted the letter “I” in his name with a tiny little heart. Your psyche was clawing it’s way through to the light one way or another.

“God, sorry about that. Agent bullshit, and all that jazz.” He nodded, rolling his extremely bright eyes.

“Living the dream, right? I can only imagine.” An airy giggle escaped you.

His fingers tapped on the counter, the other hand accepting the steamy java you had whipped up. He chewed his lower lip, gnawing back the tiniest traces of a smile, but the crinkles around his nose gave up his jig.

“It’s damn good to see you, Millie.” It was a simple sentiment. Meaningless, really. But, you could feel behind the bold, warm cadence of his voice that he’d meant exactly what he said. It wasn’t one of those things you say to an old acquaintance because you feel like you have to. Chris seemed…genuinely pleased at your unexpected presence. Which caused those same certain warm cadences in your…. areas. Your heart could’ve exploded into a million beating pieces as your nickname fell from his mouth.

Why the hell did he care though? What did your miniscule return to the city matter? There’d been no contact since his golden ticket was stamped, and truly before now, you weren’t sure he would even recognize your plain face in a crowd.

“Well, I’m happy to know that little ol’ me could brighten your day. And that I’m sure that glorious cup of dark roast had nothing to do with it.”

You were rocking fretfully back and forth behind the counter. Your hands fiddled with the loose watch band fastened around your bony wrists. You were fidgeting undoubtably. You were a fidgeter. The soft auburn whiskers sprouted around his sharp jaws made you fidget.

What those jaws would feel like flexing between your thighs…..

“You’re right. I do love the dark roast. Your dad always leaves a bag with my mom around the holidays for me. This cup seems to taste a little better though, I’m not gonna lie.”

Okay. Was he flirting? That was definitely flirting. You were getting a divorce, not dying. But, he didn’t know that. The wretched “D” word news surely hadn’t spread that far, had it?

You let yourself smile, timidly accepting the compliment with apprehension. This guy could have the ass of half of America on a platter had he been that sort of person. Nothing about the saggy, tired circles under your eyes, and your hair tied into a blonde crows-nest at the crown of your head screamed sex appeal in the slightest.

Chris leaned over the counter, fat beads of rain residue still hanging from his coat dolloped on the counter, one catching your finger. You froze in an instant. Your mind already warring whether to suck his slightly chapped lips into your mouth, or faint from the heavenly poison of his scent climbing into your nostrils.

“But don’t tell your dad. Wouldn’t want to ruin my source of supply.” He whispered deep into your ear like he was spilling some undisclosed secret of the CIA. The mans mouth grazed the shell of your ear, goosebumps climbing up your tensed neck.

“Mhmm…” you choked on your tongue trying to clear your throat. “Your uh, your secrets safe with me.”

“Cross your heart?” With one thick brush of a finger, Chris marked an ‘x’ over the now heaving rise of your chest, politely minding not to drag over your breast. The pert of your begging nipple may have made things a bit awkward.

“I’m a fortress.” You gulped, trying to swallow down the unrelenting urge to capture his lips.

He took a long pull of the coffee, never releasing you from his cuffed stares. You didn’t want to look away from his swimming, batting eyes, but something about the way his neck strained with his swallow called for your attention.

“Come to my place, Mills. Tomorrow night, if you don’t have plans?”

Well, your mom would certainly be distraught that you’d miss movie night, but you could probably squeeze in some time for the guy. But, alone? At his place? No one around to hold you accountable for the screaming, near melted center of your body that suddenly ached for him?

Lacking all power of will, you nodded a probably overzealous acceptance, making his mouth open into a pearly-white smile. A movie star smile. Literally.

“I’ll text you the address then! Have a good one. Glad I ran into you, Amelia.” It was as if the light of the room followed him out the door when it closed behind him, and you were left standing in a blissful fog to make some sense of the events of the last 5 minutes.

And what the hell did you have to wear to Captain America’s house? 

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