#if I end up writing something proper from a thirst then it's just a win at that point for the both of us LOL 😭🥳 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

secondhand-trash · 3 years

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Put a Ring on It

A/N: I started it with the intention of writing a thirst post but it ended up being 1.7k of pure fluff lmao

Pairing: Miya Atsumu x reader

Description: Miya Atsumu had a thing for wearing rings.

Word count: 1772

Miya Atsumu had a thing for wearing rings.

Maybe it was how he thought that they made his hands looked bigger, or how the accents never failed to draw even more attention to his slender fingers. Likely, it was just the way how most teenage boys went through a phase of wanting to look stylish and edgy without really bothering to look into having an actual style of their own, resulting in him halting a baggy t-shirt, cargo pants and an unnecessary amount of rings as the peak of men’s fashion. You had your own thoughts on how he was so determined to slip a ring or two into whatever he was wearing whenever he was out of his uniform. You made fun of his sense of fashion none stop, pointing to his bleached hair that has faded from the gold it was supposed to be into a sharp yellow and cheap chunky jewelry as the main culprit.

“You look like a delinquent who smokes cheap cigarettes in parks after school.”

You sniggered when he let out an offended ‘huh’. His chunky silver rings that had obnoxiously prominent carvings on the side brushed dug into the gap between your fingers as he squeezed your hand tighter when he snapped towards your direction. Your free hand, the one that wasn’t in a lock hold by his ring clad one, reached out to brush away his side-swooped bangs. His hair was fried from the boxed bleach he used regularly but as a side perk, the dryness did add to the volume of his hair.

He stood there still as you carefully pushed his hair back, his upper body leaning towards your direction just a little so you didn’t have to struggle to reach him despite his initial protests. You were messing with his hair and he was looking at you, only at you, with his fingers still linked with yours even though you always complained about his rings making it hard for you to hold his hand.

You finally pulled back and your gaze dropped from his bangs to his eyes. Your heart skipped a beat when you met his eyes and they were full of you.

You cursed your weak heart for its sudden moment of swooning when he stood back up straight and his ring scratched against the inside of your finger.

You sighed, “You are so lucky you have a nice face so that people will be too caught up to notice how you dressed.”

Atsumu pretended he couldn’t hear the second half of the sentence and decided to focus on how you said he had a nice face instead.

But then you graduated from high school and he slowly started dressing less like a disastrous teenage boy and more like a proper adult. That athlete money did him well and he was finally able to dress the way he wanted to dress without having to turn into a questionable direction because of monetary limits. The baggy pants were gone from his closet, replaced with pants that actually fit his body and elevate things instead of holding back the visual upper hand he was supposed to have because of his physiques. He finally stopped bleaching his own hair after your many years of nagging but you nearly lost your composure when he showed up in front of your door to pick you up with his new hair for the first time.

“I got the stylist to trim my bangs for me,” he said as he ran his hand through the curl sitting at the side of his forehead and you gulped when you realised that his hair was soft enough for fingers to go through them with ease now, “I’m still trying to get used to not having things over my eye.”

“Oh?” you replied, your voice breathy as you tried to calm down your sea of thoughts at the sight of your boyfriend’s new look.

You were aware that he was good looking, but everything that he was not born with used to be questionable so it balanced things out. Now he was wearing tight-fitted jeans that made his legs look even more toned as if it was even possible, with a white t-shirt that was tugged in loosely. He had a blazer on too, probably because you made him take you somewhere nice in celebration of his first VLeague cheque, but at this point you were almost certain he had that thing on just to drive you insane.

And his hair, his god damn windswept fluffy no longer bright yellow hair.

“Do you think I should grow it longer?” he asked as he rubbed the tip of his bangs between the pads of his finger. The silver that sat at the bottom of his digits contrasted starkly with the pale gold and it finally dawned upon you that he stopped wearing the cheap rings you used to make fun of him for a while ago.

Oh dear, now he was actually hot.

“No,” you blurted out, “it looks nicer this way.”

"You think so?” he asked as you forced your legs to move past your door before shutting it behind your back firmly. You had to force yourself to go out before the urge to make him come in could win, or else you would most certainly end up doing things that would make you miss your reservation.

And you had been excited to leech off of his athlete money.

“Yes, yes I do think so,” you said as you grabbed his hand to pull him along with you.

You groaned in satisfaction when you realised his new rings did not stop you from sliding your fingers between his like the old ones did.

You started having fewer objections towards his choice of accessaries after his general fashion sense shifted for the better. You even started liking the rings after a while, crediting it to him opting for designs with more simplicity. You liked the way the metal was already warm from his heat when he put his hand on your thigh out of nowhere because he was bored, or when he was at the driver’s seat and the pad of his finger drummed against your skin steadily as he waited for the lights to change. The warmth of his hand always brought you security and he was well aware that nothing called your attention to him like it did. You were not even sure if he was aware, but he had a habit of toying with his rings whenever you were neglecting him because you had your attention on something else. The band he was playing with always ended up off his finger and up yours when you were least expecting it, the feeling of his calloused finger holding your hand as he slid it down always managed to call your gaze back to him.

‘What a child,’ you chuckled to yourself when he looked at you innocently like he could not be having any hidden thoughts, his hand still holding onto yours as he held the ring that was too large for your finger from falling down.

So being the child he was, who always couldn’t fathom the thought of letting you leave his side and was equally eager to let the world know he wasn’t leaving yours, it did not surprise you at all when you were tidying up your drawers one day to find a velvet box tugged all the way back into his sock drawer.

You had a feeling it was exactly what you thought it was, and you laughed at the image of him trying to find somewhere to hide it in the house while you were not around.

Of course, leave it up to Miya Atsumu to hide a ring at the back of his sock drawer because he thought it was the one place you wouldn’t look into unless you were left with no choice.

You giggled to yourself and closed the drawer, letting the box stayed right where it was.

You weren’t looking. You wanted to, but you weren’t. Because you knew he would whine to no end if you didn’t look as surprised as he wanted you to be when he finally showed it to you for real.

He still had no clue that you already knew it was coming when he got down on one knee and took the box out of his pocket with shaky hands. He cried when you said yes and you cried when he started crying, even though you had already rehearsed in your head for a million times on how you would say yes ever since you saw the velvet box inside of his sock drawer.

He was still sobbing when he realised he needed to get up from the ground, wiping his tears away on the sleeve of his very expensive blazer before clumsily taking the ring out of the box to put it on your finger. Miya Atsumu was an ugly crier through and through and you finally admitted to yourself that you were a whipped fool when you still wanted to kiss his stupid face even though his eyes were swollen and he missed your finger a few times before finally getting the ring in.

“Now we match,” he said with a hiccup, laughing but sounding like he was about to break down into another round of tears as soon as the chuckle left his mouth, “you can’t make fun of my rings anymore.”

He was so dumb, and you felt like crying again when he took out an identical ring from his pocket and put it on his own hand. Who the hell does that? You wanted to laugh at him but you couldn’t, because you knew you would start sobbing again if you do that.

“You’re an idiot,” you said, grabbing his hand to steady him because he was shaking and you were sure he might just drop the ring if he kept fidgeting.

He sniffled, grinning ear to ear through his tears when he saw the ring that sat on your finger.

“So?” he said, happily holding your hand in his to look at how perfectly it fits, the rings and your hands, “You can’t get rid of me now, I got the ring to prove it.”

You huffed, but couldn’t stop yourself from smiling when he rubbed his fingers along his engagement ring like he was making sure that it was still there.

You decided that it would be your favourite ring of his until you get to put the wedding band onto his finger yourself.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu imagine #miya atsumu imagine #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu imagines

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antihentaiclub · 4 years

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i’m rating manga/manhwa i’ve read because i don’t want to do my schoolwork

1. Blood Bank

status: completed

rating: 8.8/10

this was the first one i read and MAN. i like how in the beginning there was no relationship whatsoever but because Shell had power, he was able to use it and see One whenever he felt, at first, Shell was almost like a sugar daddy trying to use that to win One over. but over time, they developed a genuine relationship that was unbreakable and brought them back to each other in the end so they would receive their own happily ever after that they Definitely deserved.

2. bj Alex

status: ongoing (side story)

rating: 8.9/10

the basis of the story was good. i liked the growth of Jiwon throughout the entire story. watching Jiwon accept and move forward from his past trauma was therapeutic and so wholesome. it would probably be my favorite aspect of the series. however, i wanted to punch Dong-gyun Real hard in the beginning because of how he thirsted of Jiwon, but i think that factor is what made him so realistic. he was nearly obsessed with this idea he had of Jiwon and we got to see that idea destroyed and rebuilt multiple times. one another note, i really liked the side story with MD and Chanwoo. it was subtle enough not to overtake the main plot, but present enough o make an impact. now, though, in the side story i want to murder Chanwoo because he’s taking MD for granted. anyways, overall, bj Alex is a very good story. i also quite liked that it was drawn in black and white and the important parts were in color.

3. Make Me Bark

status: completed

rating: 7.5/10

Make Me Bark was very cute. different than my usual tastes, but definitely a good, quick read. i like how Sungjoon was having nothing go his way but Hyo-in kinda swooped in and knocked him off his feet. although, i do wish that we got to know a little more about Hyo-in. i feel like i know so little about him.

4. Well Done!

status: completed

rating: 7/10

i liked the overall concept quite a lot actually. i think the author did a decent job in proving that there doesn’t have to be a good person, or a hero, in a story and that both sides can essentially be villains in their own respect. parts of me wished that Sangwoo and Jaehyun worked out in the end, but i know their relationship didn’t have a solid foundation whatsoever. i don’t want to say the end was fitting for Jaehyun, but he definitely got knocked off his high horse.

5. Walk on Water

status: ongoing

rating: 9.8/10

one of my absolute favorites. this story takes you on so many twists and turns emotionally. the author has beautiful art and an incredible story including growth for both McQueen and Yeowoon. i can’t talk enough about how much i like it. it starts with Ed, who’s later revealed to actually be name Yeowoon, trying to find another source of income to pay off debt that his grandfather accrued. he stumbled upon this gay porn website owned by Glen McQueen and decided to give it a shot, despite not being gay. from then on a shaky string of hookups to hide true feelings ensues until McQueen and Ed finally reveal their real emotions. they begin dating and one would think that’s it, things are fine. but instead, things all start going wrong and Ed and McQueen get in a huge nasty fight in which they both end up regretting but Ed can’t bring himself to be the bigger man and apologize. he starts finding himself in less and less fortunate situations, but currently things are starting to take a turn for the better as he and McQueen have apologized and are talking in hopes of eventually creating a new relationship that will not lead to the hurt they experienced before.

6. BL Motel

status: ongoing

rating: 8.7/10

in this story i liked watching Jinwon and Byul’s relationship grow. you get to see them develop feelings and not tell each other despite how obvious it is. you also get to see Byul struggle with he and his brother’s relationship and how it had been flawed from the beginning. it showed Jinwon helping him and letting him finally resolve the situation so now they are on better terms and healing and finding proper love. i liked that a lot. my one thing that bothers me though, is that a lot of the character designs are similar so i get super confused on who is who. it’s a little disorganized in that sense which can make it a bit hard to read. otherwise, it’s a great story.

7. Dear Door

status: ongoing

rating: 8.6/10

i love the art style for this story. it goes from sophisticated and attractive to cute doodles in seconds and i like the laid back approach to storytelling. in this universe demons can use people as “doors” between the human realm and Hell, which is how Cain, a demon, and Gyeong Joon, a human police officer. Cain begins to use Gyeong Joon as his door and they develop an interesting type of relationship that still has a lot of room for growth. it’s still very early on for this story but i look forward to updates.

8. Love or Hate

status: ongoing

rating: 9.5/10

another favorite of mine. first, the art style is incredible and the character designs are so good. plus, the story is well structured. in this story you witness Haesoo conflicted between two people, his long time hookup Joowon, who he had known for ten years and had immense history with, and Taekyung, a photographer who he met through his job and funny enough, resembles Joowon’s actions. the story shows the damage of toxic relationships and how vulnerable people become when they’re in love with another person and when all they want is them. the characters, Haesoo especially, are so well thought out and complex and it adds so much flavor to the already good story. i heavily anticipate season 3 and know i’m in for a rollercoaster.

9. Back to School

status: completed

rating: 6.8/10

hear me out, by no means am i saying i didn’t like Back to School. what i am saying is i think there was potential for so much more. the ending was abrupt and left me with too many unanswered questions. i also thought the writing was a bit inconsistent towards the end. anyways, the concept was good. Cha Chiwoo left school because of a traumatic event and went back after taking his time off to finish and get his diploma. there he met Ki Kyujin, the class president, who tried befriending him despite the rumors that surrounded him. later on he reconnects with someone from his past, Song Jihyun, his ex best friend and the reason he left school in the first place. now, Jihyun decides to finish school and they’re all in the same class. throughout the story we got to unlock more of Chiwoo and Jihyun’s history, which was a factor i enjoyed. however, at the end, after Jihyun left, i think there should’ve been a point in the future where he comes back and he and Chiwoo actually resolve their last and can healthily move forward. i know it’s not my story, but i think something like that would’ve provided more of a resolution than Chiwoo just confessing his feelings and kissing Kyujin. i also think Jihyun was demonized more than necessary. he already had been falsely arrested for murder, he had multiple settled cases for his violent nature, and he had the major fall out with Chiwoo but in the q&a at the end the author said that Jihyun had raped Chiwoo which i don’t think matches his character. it was clear that everything he did was because he loved Chiwoo and he isn’t stupid enough to do something so cruel, or so i think.

#manga #manhwa #back to school #blood bank #bj alex #bl motel #painter of the night #walk on water #make me bark #well done #yaoi #mangago #jiwon bj alex #md bj alex #dear door #seungho x nakyum #seungho

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aceandnancy · 4 years

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FALL DRABBLEFEST 2020 NOW OPEN!!!

THE GUIDELINES

The objective of the Drabblefest is to publish as much fanfiction as possible for a fandom that desperately needs it!

Find a prompt you like on the list and just write something. There are only two requirements: it has to be at least drabble length (but it can be as long as you want!) and the main pairing has to be Ace/Nancy.

Anyone can participate at any skill level. Even if you have never written a fic before or if it’s been years…give it a try.

You can use as many prompts as you want. You can also combine prompts. There is no limit to the amount of prompts you can use and more than one person can use the same prompts. Make sure you mention the prompt in your author notes.

Please tag your fics #nacedrabblefest so that they can be reblogged.

If you cross-post to Archive of Our Own, please tag your fics as part of the 2020 Ace/Nancy Fall Drabblefest. You can also add a link back to the blog if you want. It may encourage more participation.

Comments? Questions? Comment below or hit the askbox.

GOOD LUCK!!! HAPPY WRITING!!

DRABBLEFEST DATES:

SEPTEMBER 29th- NOVEMBER 15th

THE PROMPTS ARE LISTED BELOW THE CUT---------------

Detailed Scenarios:

Nancy is secretly pining for Ace while he's dating somebody else.

Ace buys Nancy a first edition copy of “All The President’s Men”.

Nancy knows about Ace's whereabouts before Bess without even thinking.

Ryan gives Nancy unsolicited advice about not running from love even if you're scared...forcing her to confront her denial over her feelings for Ace.

Nick is concerned for Ace regarding his growing relationship with Nancy; he doesn't want Ace getting hurt because of Nancy's trust issues...but Ace knows what he "signed up for" and is okay with it.

Gilmore Girls-ish AU: Ryan raises Nancy in Horseshoe Bay cut off from his family and runs the ice cream parlor him and Lucy loved. Nancy and Ace grow up as best friends.

Nancy and Ace go undercover as newlyweds.

Nancy asks Ace for help with solving a case for Carson.

Nancy is annoyed/jealous when a new waitress at The Claw flirts with Ace...but doesn't want to admit it.

Nancy Drew's News starts posting anonymous gossip involving The Drew Crew leading to some interesting revelations.

When Ace is arrested for hacking, Nancy moves hell and earth to clear his name.

Nancy and Ace's PDA disgusts George and delights Bess.

The Drew Crew spends the day at the beach and Nancy low-key thirsts for Ace's body.

Ace and Nancy get trapped in an elevator forcing them to confront their feelings for each other.

Nancy goes speed dating with Bess, but all she can think about is Ace.

Bess cons George into helping her get Ace and Nancy together.

Laura returns at the moment Ace and Nancy's UST hits a boiling point.

Laura is getting married and wants the Drew Crew to attend her wedding.

George notices that both Ace and Nancy are very tired at work and comments on it.

Ace offers to give Nancy a massage when her neck won't stop hurting.

Nancy and Ace laugh over an inside joke and George thinks it's super weird.

Ace and Nancy dance.

Ace and Nancy have a secret relationship ala Monica and Chandler.

When their young daughter asks the moment they fell in love with each other, Ace and Nancy realize it's the same moment.

Ace gets a haircut.

Ace tells Nancy the story of how and why he was arrested for hacking.

Nancy and Ace stumble into a case on their honeymoon.

Ace realizes he's in love with Nancy, but decides to keep it to himself.

Carson witnesses a "moment" between Nancy and Ace and attempts to subtlety ask her about it.

The Drew Crew gives Lucy a proper burial.

Nancy goes over to Ace's place instead of Owen's on the night she discovers her true identity.

Nancy hates Halloween, but Ace loves it.

When a person dresses up as Dead Lucy at The Claw's Halloween party, Ace comforts a distressed Nancy (and also throws that person out).

Bess, George, and Nancy have an old fashioned sleepover for Bess's birthday. When Nancy gets a text from Ace, the girls tease her about her smile...but it turns into a serious conversation about her true feelings.

Nancy meets Ace's brother.

Ace and Nancy share their first kiss in the rain.

Ace and Nancy's first time is in an unusual setting.

Ace and Nancy have a stupid fight that leads to a super hot make-up.

Nancy talks to Ace about her recent traumas. He encourages her to make up with Carson.

Carson and Ace talk about Nancy. He thinks they're good for each other.

Ace and Nancy Facetime before bed.

Ace and Nancy go on a road trip that links to his past.

Ace and Nancy exchange earrings as a sign of their commitment to each other.

Nancy thinks Ace's hacking is a major turn-on.

When the girls are busy, Ace and Nick must solve their own supernatural case.

Ace and Nancy discover their fake elopement (for a case) was real! Comedy ensues.

When Nancy's fansite openly ships them, Nancy and Ace rethink their relationship.

Truth Serum is slipped into The Drew Crew's drinks.

Ace and Nancy share a moment before she's forced to flee town with Ryan.

Ace takes Nancy to an escape room for their first date.

Nancy sees Ace's scar from the crash.

After yet another near death experience, Ace and Nancy realize they can't keep ignoring their feelings and finally do something about it.

When the rest of the Drew Crew is out of town, Ace and Nancy must run The Claw together for the entire weekend with hilarious results.

George figures out Ace and Nancy's code word for sex.

After a fight involving Algaeca-related tension, the group fractures. Nancy flees to the Bluffs. Aces goes after her.

An anonymous love letter is found at The Claw and everyone thinks it's from a different person. Chaos ensues! Revelations come to light! Based on the classic episode of Full House [4x11: "Secret Admirer"].

Nancy's ex-high school friends comes back into the picture. Ace poses as her boyfriend to help her deal with them.

Ace watches Nancy as she falls asleep.

Nancy asks Ace out on a date.

Ace and Nancy's first date goes horribly wrong, but ends incredibly right.

Nancy learns Ace’s real name.

A jealous Nancy tries to win a date with Ace at The Claw’s charity auction.

Ace and Nancy confide in Bess separately about their feelings for each other but make her promise not to interfere.

Nancy and Ace accidentally wear matching costumes to The Claw’s Halloween party.

Nancy and Ace have matching soulmarks.

Nancy and Ace become friends long before working at The Claw.

To get a vital piece of evidence or scope out suspects/locations for a case, Ace & Nancy have to pose as a couple, or even if not, someone makes reference to them as such.

An evil spirit (possibly the Algaeca or something) infiltrates Horseshoe Bay & is able to take the form of its residents, namely Nancy (or Ace). It takes the other person to figure out it’s not them, & how to get the real person back.

A situation occurs where Ace has to protect Nancy from the Hudsons [physically and/or Nancy and Ace team up].

Nancy and Ace get high together (safely).

Dialogue Snippets:

“I don’t believe in regret.”

“Mmmmm...don’t leave this bed.”

“Kiss me and don’t stop.”

"I don't want to fight this anymore."

“I know I said I just wanted to be friends, but I can’t stop thinking about you. I’m not scared anymore. I want us.”

"Ace is the best. We all need an Ace in our life."

"I don't want to leave."

“You’re my inspiration Nancy.”

“So, you’re the famous Nancy Drew! All my son does is talk about you. I’m his mom.”

“I trust you more than anyone else in my entire life, Ace.”

“I never thought I’d love someone this much.”

“I want you to be my partner.”

“I’m pregnant.”

“I’m worried about you Nancy. The Hudsons are dangerous.”

“I had a dream where we were together and it just felt so right.”

“Do you want to go back to my place?”

“Stay the night.”

“I wasn’t ready for us before...but I’m ready now.”

“Do YOU know what missing frames are?”

“Stay.”

#ace x nancy #nancy x ace #nace #nancy drew cw #nacedrabblefest #nancy drew #fanfiction

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leotssukinaga · 4 years

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Flirting- Iwaizumi Hajime

Anon requested: you mentioned earlier that you were thirsty for iwa, and this isn't an nsfw request but could you write something in which the reader flirts with guys a lot and oikawa grew up with her and knows she does it bc she never really had positive male attention and he knows it's self destructive and he gets mad at her and they fight, and iwa goes after her and she's like "hes right, I only flirt because I want someone to love me" and iwas like are u fr I've been in love w u for years? (1/2 srry) and she's like 'iwa you don't wanna date me I'm Fucked Up' and he doesn't care. and she's scared of commitment but agrees to Try and they date and they're super cute together? hcs or oneshot I don't mind!! (2/2) A/N: Iwa thirst includes being thirsty for his strong arms around me and a kiss on my cheek so I respect you, anon. we soft for Iwa in this house Warnings: Angst, mentions of an absent parent

You and Oikawa have known each other a long time

pre-middle school for sure

and obviously, if you know Oikawa you know Iwa too and you get on with him well enough

you're not as close to him as you are to Oikawa but like. if you were in trouble he'd probably be the one you called

the downside to this is that your crush on him will not go away, but your fear of commitment is way stronger

so you ignore it and do what you always do

which is to say: flirt with guys

now, oikawa is a flirt, and he doesn't see anything wrong with you being a flirt either. until he finds out WHY you're a flirt

and the moment he realises you don't do it because it's fun but out of some self destructive tendency, he's not having it.

he loves you, dammit. you're one of his best friends!! he's not gonna let you tear yourself apart like this

so you fight about it, a lot. but he never crosses the line

until you go with them to a tournament and he sees you hitting on one of the other teams captains after a game

and he's just. he's hyped up from the adrenaline of the win and he's worried about you and. this boy does not have a filter okay

"why is it any of your business who I flirt with, Tōru?"

"because you don't actually want his attention!"

"the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"if you actually wanted his attention, I'd be fine with it. who am I to judge? but I know you only flirt because your dad didn't bother to stick around and you think attention from random guys is gonna fix that, but it won't! flirting with them isn't gonna change the fact that he doesn't love you!"

everyone in the vicinity flinched when he said that. he was fairly certain you were about to kill him, and he wouldn't blame you

but you just scoffed and walked away

which was worse. way, way worse.

He went to follow you but mattsun and makki stopped him. He could only make the situation worse now.

Iwa went after you instead. He knew that to end the argument without a word you had to be pretty upset.

he found you eventually, and he could tell you'd been crying

he didn't say a word, just sat next to you

"Iwa..."

"Oikawa's a dick."

"Oikawa's right"

"Doesn't make him not a dick."

"Yeah, I guess... Am I an idiot?"

"I don't think so."

"I just... I want to be loved, and I know that they don't love me but if I can pretend they do for a minute or two then things feel a little better. I'm never gonna find real love, not when I'm like this. I can't even see myself as valuable, why should they?"

"Y/N. Even if every guy you'd ever hit on didn't want you, there'd be at least one guy out there who thought you were the most important person in the world."

You let out a bemused scoff.

"Really? Who?"

"Me."

"Iwa..."

"I mean it. Everything about you amazes me. You're so strong, even after everything you've been through. You have the prettiest laugh I've ever heard, I'd set it as my ringtone if I could. All those times I called you randomly had nothing to do with the excuses I gave you. it's always because I wanted to hear your voice, to imagine you smiling at my words, to take up just a few minutes of your time where all you were thinking about was me."

"You don't wanna be with me, Iwa." You were crying again, and he wasn't sure if it was because of his confession or something else.

"Yes, I do."

"No, you don't. I hit on guys I don't like because I think male attention will magically fix my dad abandoning me. I don't remember the last time I was actually happy, I don't know how to get better, and I'm definitely not a good person. I'm a screw up. You can find a better girl to date."

"I don't want a 'better girl'. You're the best girl there is, Y/N. The only girl I want. And I want all of you, screw ups and daddy issues included."

"And my fear of commitment? You think that'll disappear overnight?"

"Of course it won't, but you can get better. We'll find a way. You know I'll go away if you really don't want to be with me, but you have to tell me that. Outright."

"Iwa I.... I do wanna be with you. But I don't want to lose you once you see who I really am."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"I don't- please don't leave."

You sounded so small when you said that, he just wanted to hold you forever.

He takes your hand in his and looks into your eyes.

"I won't."

Achievement unlocked! Dating Iwaizumi

this includes:

him ranting to oikawa 98 times a week about how much he hates your dad for leaving you

him convincing you to go to therapy and work shit out in a healthy way

he's a proper gentleman!! you're like "a loving relationship? I don't know her" and he's like "well let's fuckin introduce the two of you you guys are best buds now!"

bc this boy fuckin. cherishes you and you need to know that and he will show it in any way possible

still calls you in the middle of the night but doesn't come up with dumb excuses anymore

literally just "hajime it's 3am"

"i wanted to hear your voice"

"that's cute but hajime it's 3am"

reassurance hours are always and never ending

bc Iwa will NEVER leave you, not unless you want him to

and he’s gonna make sure you know that

youre a little clingy, maybe, but he really doesn’t mind

at least if youre hanging off his arm 24/7 he knows you’re safe and can see if somethings wrong

(yes, it takes some time for the team to get used to the fact that where iwa goes, you go. if you’re not holding hands you’re sitting in his lap and he’s so much milder now and its strange. who’d have thought he’d be the soft boyfriend?)

he’s protective as fuck, too

iwa will do anything to keep you safe and make you smile

he just loves you okay?? you better fucking accept it bc he's very willing to cuddle you until it's hammered in there. got it?

jUsT lEt HiM lOvE you

#my writing #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu imagines #iwaizumi #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwa #iwa x reader

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stusbunker · 4 years

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Questions: Who?

A Supernatural Fan-fiction Series

Featuring: Sam Winchester x Wife!Reader

Setting: Starts in Season 12, ends in Season 13

Sixth and Final Chapter of my Questions Series

A/N: Thanks to everyone for reading this through! I really appreciate the support and feedback! xoxo Stu

Warnings: Torture, blood, vomit, hospitals, fate, free will, pregnancy and childbirth, stupid levels of fluff at the end, which I meant to write all along.

You had worn many hats through the years: Daughter, Friend, Orphan, Hunter, Cousin, Fraud, Thief, Prisoner, Girlfriend, and now Wife. But nothing held the power of who you were like looking into his eyes.

This was it, this is what it meant to be insane, possibly feral. It was beyond reason, beyond anger or fear. It was a desperate, frustrating lack of control. The moment she came into the room you snarled at the woman. Prim and proper and utterly infuriating.

God, you wanted to snap her neck. That thought stopped you in your tracks, rank air pulled through your nostrils as you tried to get back to yourself. It would have been easier, if you weren’t still bleeding from the gunshot to your calf.

“We seem to have started off on the wrong foot. Understandably, a woman must defend her home,” she driveled on. “Now, we came to bring in the Winchesters, but you don’t really count.”

She paced in front of you, crisp suit unsullied from the dingy basement. You tried to remember what her partner or partners looked like, they couldn’t be very far. She hadn’t be the one to drag you in, let alone Sam. Sam. Where had they taken him?!

Your mind flitted through the chances of an escape, for either of you, while she prattled on.

“You know those boys stir up trouble wherever they go. We can help you. Give you a fresh start,” Toni attempted to give you a reassuring smile.

“Who do you think you are, lady? If you think I am going to turn on either of them, you are clearly not as smart as you look,” you spat out, chills racking your body, accentuating every aching joint bound by unforgiving knots.

“Give it time, some bacteria growth, and you’ll be crippled. Not much for hunting by then. I wonder what happens to those too weak to keep up?” She eyed you suspiciously. Then continued with breathy exasperation, “I’ll be back. Maybe then we can talk about where your loyalties lie.”

You woke to the sound of Sam’s screams, muffled and haunting. Lips chapped and with barely enough strength to lift your head you called back.

“Sam! Sam! Don’t--- don’t let her win! You hear me?!”

He broke off suddenly, the fear and rage resurfacing as you came back to your surroundings. Your head throbbed and you realized someone must have gagged him or knocked him out. You counted your own shallow breaths waiting for them to do the same to you.

The pain in your leg had changed, slowly you were able to squirm to see that they had sewn you up. The fact that you had been unconscious long enough for them to do any number of things to you made your empty stomach clench. You waited for the British Barbie to return as you worked through your options.

No one had come for you, despite the obvious rounds of torture Sam had endured. You sat and waited, pain and thirst battling for your attention as you tried to undo the ropes at your bleeding wrists. Suddenly a very different sound was pulled from Sam’s throat, a moan so specific that you finally lost the acid that had been building in your gut.

What the hell was going on?

You started to spiral, possibilities of what was to come scaring you more than anything else had ever before. As you slipped into unconsciousness once more, you started to dread waking back up.

Everything blurred, one moment you saw Sam’s face bloody and alarmed then Dean’s barking over the backseat. Cas’s voice was stern, but you couldn’t understand why he was so insistent.

Then there was a woman’s voice, one that was as soothing as it was foreign.

The air around you was clinically comfortable. The morning light slanted as it peeked through the vertical blinds, you were still tied down, but these were very different bindings. The I.V. and heart rate monitor kept you on a short leash. Sam’s snoring at your bedside the only thing that told you this was real. The sight of your husband so mutilated brought tears to your eyes.

The fact that you were in the hospital bed when he wasn’t told you how bad you must have been.

You cleared your throat, mouth sour and voice hoarse. Sam startled awake, wincing as he adjusted in the vinyl chair.

“Hey,” you whispered.

His hand snaked over the rail and grabbed yours, heavy and familiar.

“How you feelin’?” Sam asked, brow pitched.

“Surprisingly not bad. Why am I here, Sam? Couldn’t Cas---,” you started.

Sam cut you off, “He said it was best to bring you in, you were really dehydrated and needed two blood transfusions.”

“What about you?” You tried to sit up, brushing your fingers over the places where you remembered he had been bleeding.

“I’m fine. Cas took care of me. Listen, Baby, the reason Cas insisted you got to the hospital is, well,” Sam cleared his throat and cocked his head, debating on what to say next.

“Because I’m pregnant,” you answered.

“You knew?” Sam gaped, floundering so much that you almost laughed in his face.

You nod. “The world was ending, I wasn’t sure it was going to last. And couldn’t put something else out there to worry about.”

“You still could have told me.” Sam sniffed, the news overtaking him in a way you hadn’t seen before.

“I know, and I’m sorry,” you breathed out, gripping Sam’s forearm as you braced yourself for reality. “Am I still? Did we lose--,”

“Hey, it’s okay, you are. The doctor had strong and steady heartbeats from both of you.” Sam smiled down at you as he leaned forward to kiss your forehead.

“Is it bad that I don’t know how I feel about it yet?” You asked nervously, praying he wouldn’t judge you for your honesty.

He barely even hesitated, bless him.

“Of course not. The lives we lead, this is going to take some adjusting. For all of us. But if you’re in this, I’ll be right there beside you,” Sam gave you a watery smile. “Alright?”

You nodded and leaned in to give him a simple kiss, lingering in the calm of sharing his oxygen.

“Sam?” You asked. He hummed in reply. “Who was the woman in the car with us on the way here? I don’t remember seeing her, just a voice.”

“Well, apparently Amara decided Dean needed something in return for him, I don’t know, reconciling her and Chuck, God, whatever. So she, uh, she brought back my mom.”

Being benched after the Brits kidnapping you was understandable, your body and psyche needed a breather. But now it was getting frustrating.

“Sorry, pregnant chicks don’t get to hunt, not on my cases,” Dean tossed you one of his petulant company smiles.

“You’re being ridiculous! I’m barely showing, no one needs to know,” you argued with your stubborn brother-in-law as Sam and Castiel shared apprehensive looks behind Dean’s back.

“Yeah, well, I know. Look, I get it, you can take care of yourself. But this is big, alright? If Lucifer gets wind that Sam’s got a fresh meat suit on the way,” Dean puffed himself up to unload on you.

“That’s enough, Dean,” Cas chided.

Sam was visibly stunned by Dean’s comment, the possibility of Lucifer using you or your baby made him recoil with disgust.

Of course you hadn’t thought of that. Vessels were linked by bloodlines, you carried a part of the fallen archangel’s true vessel. As you processed the gravity of what Dean was saying, Sam seemed to slump with guilt.

“Oh, god,” he said underneath his breath.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ll stay back on this one,” you tried to reassure him.

“I didn’t even think--- you have to be careful. I mean it, until Lucifer is back in the cage or dead, none of us are safe.” His hands latched onto your hips, thumbs rubbing tight circles over your growing belly.

You pulled his jaw up to look him in the eye, the man you trusted beyond all others, the love of your life, your rock.

“We will be fine, Sam. Go do what needs doing and come home safe. All of you.” You looked to Dean whose jaw was set in agreement. You nodded to Cas and leaned up to kiss Sam goodbye.

It hurt to watch them go where you couldn’t help keep them safe. But you had a different job to do now and it just kept getting bigger.

Days turned into weeks and there were no leads on Sam or Dean. Mary and Cas were doing everything they could, but nothing would ease your anguish until you had answers.

Your body continued to grow, the constant reminder that time progressing was just one more thing beyond your control.

The fear of raising your baby alone increased with each passing day.

Jody called out of the blue and a tidal wave of emotions hit you. You had a village, even if they were widespread. You could do this if you had to. You would do whatever it took to keep your family safe, even if it meant eventually having to give up on finding Sam and Dean.

They charged in through the garage on a gray afternoon, gaunt and exhausted. Time, finally seemed to stop as Sam’s face flushed with relief as you ran into his arms.

“Do you know what you’re having?” Kelly Kline’s bright eyes flitted to your matching bump.

You shook your head. “Nope, decided to let it be a surprise, we aren’t really the decorating type. You?”

“Half spawn of Satan, but I feel like it’s a boy,” she teased, you appreciated her snark.

“What’s that like? Do you have to deal with wings in there along with all the kicks and elbows?” You pulled your knee up on the couch in the cabin’s small living room. Getting as comfortable as possible as you got to know Lucifer’s baby mama.

She groaned out a sigh. “Probably? Who knows? He’s growing so fast!”

You caught Castiel’s eye as the unspoken worry passed between you.

“The baby is human shaped, his wings are not corporeal on this plane,” your angel friend explained dully.

“Who needs an ultrasound when you’ve got this guy?!” you broke the awkward silence as Kelly internalized that her son, in fact, had wings.

“I’m sorry, how is it you know Castiel, Y/N?” Kelly tried to change the direction of the conversation.

“Uh, well, I’m a hunter. Do you know what I mean by that?” You offered.

“Like the Winchesters?” Her voice grew tighter as she looked to Cas to ensure she and her baby remained safe in your presence.

“Like the Winchesters. In fact I--,” you tried to ease into it.

“She is Sam’s wife, Kelly. I brought her here for you to understand that though their actions might seem extreme, they are good men,” Cas explained.

“But they’re also idiots,” you broke in. “We all have our baggage, for Sam, a lot of that baggage is Lucifer. Do you know who my husband and his brother are?”

You let your guard down, breathing through your inner defensiveness and spoke to Kelly as a civilian. Because she was still such an innocent, despite everything that had happened since Lucifer jumped into her boyfriend.

Kelly looked to Cas before shaking her head.

“Sam was Lucifer’s power suit, his true vessel. He was destined from the beginning to bring forth the apocalypse. And Dean was Michael’s. Two sets of brothers meant to end the world.”

“I don’t understand, why wasn’t he--,”

“Because Sam, and Dean, chose a different path,” Cas concluded.

“And so, I’m here to let you know that your child will be allowed to chose the right path for himself.” You sighed, feeling the weight of destiny in your words. The offer to bring her child into your family despite his parentage as a sign that the world held more good than chaos.

You didn’t know who you were reassuring more, Kelly or yourself.

It was nothing like you had expected, yet just as horrendous as you had imagined. Your muscles seized as you bore down, again. The clothed faces of the doctor and nurses were a sea of unfamiliarity. You needed Sam.

But he wasn’t there.

You groaned, trying to push harder than ever before. You had to be nearly done. You needed your baby to finally arrive so you could rest. As much as you wanted to meet them; you were exhausted, mentally, physically and emotionally depleted.

“And relax,” the doctor coached. “Great job, Mrs. Campbell. Breathe.”

You nodded, mouth closed as you tried not to cry.

You had never felt so alone in your entire life, not in foster care after the wendigo had slaughtered your parents or in the years after losing Rafe. Not even the dank cell that Crowley had left you in, had you felt this terrifyingly and helplessly alone.

You were going to be a mother. And there was no one at your side. No matter how certain you were that Sam wanted to be there; he wasn’t.

Before you were ready, you were pushing through another contraction.

“Big push, keep going, that’s it, don’t stop,” the doctor’s voice was firm and insistent. You wanted to swing your machete. Or a solid baseball bat.

You screamed as your body burned, clenching and pulsing against the child inside you. You needed it out.

“That’s it, you’re doing great,” a voice like heaven broke through your anguish as Sam peeled your hand from the bedside rail.

“You prick!”

“I know,” Sam acquiesced, giving you his determined furrowed brow as the doctor regained your attention.

“Glad you could make it, Dad. Mom? We need another series of big pushes from you. Are you ready?”

“No--- I need a break--- fuck!” You felt the contraction attack your body and you couldn’t help but whimper.

“You can do this, just a few more, Baby,” Sam promised with quiet insistence.

You gave a faltering effort, which the doctor acknowledged.

“Alright, we missed that one, don’t stop again. Let’s go, big finish,” the doctor barked, her voice insanely controlled.

You were not made for the calm approach; you unleashed, grunting and pushing through as you fought with every once of strength you had left. It hurt so much suddenly you had stepped away from the moment, trying to focus on the effort without maintaining a full grasp on your body.

Your hearing muffled as your body resisted.

There was no way around this, but through it. You bucked against the stirrups and bore down one last time.

“We have a head!” The nurse exclaimed, excitement blooming in your chest.

You looked at Sam. Your tears of relief and wonder matched in his eyes. You pushed again, teeth clenched as an unholy growl escaped from deep inside you.

“It’s a boy!” The doctor cried.

You fell limp as they moved to clean up your son. Sam was called over for the cord. Somewhere in the chaos, the doctor got you through the afterbirth. Then, at long last, you were able to hold your baby.

Sam handed him to you as you adjusted to lay him flush to your chest, feeling his clammy skin to yours. He was so tiny, and warm, a wrinkled bruiser, and the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

“Ohhhhh,” you cooed through more tears. “Hey, buddy. It’s good to see you.”

You kissed his downy head, feeling peace float through you. You looked up to Sam, who remained standing, watching you with such reverence in his expression that you laughed at him.

“We did it,” you gushed.

“Nah, this one is all you,” Sam winked before he brushed his thumb over the back of the baby’s head.

“Where’s Dean?”

“He and Jack are in the waiting room,” Sam answered, not looking away from the baby’s face.

You nodded before you looked down to find the baby squirming against your breast. “Let them wait.”

Sam hummed in agreement.

“Alright, little man, this is your first lesson: driver picks the music, while carseat sleeps the whole way home. Ya got it?” Dean crooned down to your son as you snapped the last latch in place.

“That’s cute that you think I am going to let you drive him home,” you teased.

“What?! Come on, you can’t drive; I heard the doctor! You guys can ride with me and my baby! It is only right that his first car ride be in the Impala,” Dean argued. Sam sighed and Dean spun on the spot. “No, not you too.”

“There isn’t really the right kind of hook ups in the backseat, Dean,” Sam reasoned.

“Oh don’t you get all safety patrol on me now,” Dean huffed.

“I mean, we could always install some brackets----,” you started, smirking at Sam.

“I’m not even going to let you finish,” Dean cut you off. “Fine. Take your crappy import back. But Little Bobby is going to ride with me, sooner or later.”

You knew he was right. And you would have bet that Dean was already figuring out what hidden adjustments he could make without “yuppifying” his prized Chevy.

“Little Bobby?” Jack questioned, looking to Sam in confusion. Your husband just shrugged.

“What? You name my nephew Robert and don’t like it when I call him Lil Bobby?” Dean looked between you and Sam with an exasperated dead eye.

“We named him Robert Rafe John Winchester, Dean,” Sam clarified.

“We’re calling him RJ,” you finished.

“That’s nice,” Dean replied before leaning down and fist bumping your son’s little knuckles. “See ya at home, Lil Bobby. Your folks are nuts. Tough break, kid.”

“Right,” Sam chuckled as he picked up the handle on the bucket carseat, following you as the five of you made your way out of the hospital room. You walked behind Jack, who was lost in thought, as he kept up with Dean.

All your boys.

The only person missing was Mary; you felt her absence like a proverbial gray cloud hovering over your heads. There was still work to do, baby or no.

Sam and Dean wouldn’t quit until the world was safe. Their mother’s safety was only the next hurdle.

And you wouldn’t expect any less from your family. You knew your child would be protected; he didn’t need normal to be happy and healthy and neither did you.

You had everything you needed, you had your husband and your son. The hunt was out there waiting for when you were ready to get back to it.

You were complete.

Series tags: @dontshootmespence @ericaprice2008 @chucksnotonanyflatbread @reid-fiction @madlu45 @mogaruke @akshi8278 @mrswhozeewhatsis

#questions: who #spn fanfic #sam winchester fanfic #sam x reader #sam x reader series #sam angst #supernatural fanfiction #questions series #sam winchester fanfiction series #sam fluff #we're going to let uncle dean be ridiculous #we need a happy ending here okay?

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silverducks · 3 years

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Game of Thrones - My Ending

Ok, so I wasn't too keen on the ending we had in Game of Thrones, so I made up my own.

This is not me theorising how the book series might end either, just me trying to come to terms with some of the badly written stuff at the end of GoT. A fix it fic, if you will.

It can pretty much go as we've already seen in the episodes, even if I'm not too keen on a lot of what happened in it (cough the Night King cough). But I can live with most of it and this is designed to fit into what we already have, with not too many changes. Just enough to fix what for me were the worst of the plot points.

Spoilers below for GoT obviously.

Anyway, Jaime of course doesn't just go back to save Cersei, because that's stupid and totally undermines his character arc. Instead he is going back to stop her – kill her if needed - as he fears she'll set off the Wildfire which he suddenly thought of from what Sansa says. So he pretends he's leaving Brienne as he doesn’t want her to go with him, as it might put her in danger.

The rest of the episode can play out as it does, with Tyrion really thinking Jaime is returning to Cersei because he doesn’t realise how much Jaime has changed as a person. Jaime plays along, not wanting his brother to either try to stop him, or help him. But when Jaime gets to Cersei (much sooner than in the show) he sees she is about to set off the Wildfire - her last attempt at victory, hoping it will kill the invading army.

It’s another silly plot point for me that Cersei doesn’t have more planned; she's too clever not too. So she does have a back-up plan in my version, one where she’ll set off the Wildfire to hopefully destroy the invading army and Dany and her dragons with it (having already isolated the Red Keep from the Wildfire supply, so she’ll be ok there). Anyway, Jaime sees Cersei about to set off the Wildfire so he pleads with her not too. When that doesn't work, he strangles her as per the Valonqar prophecy. He then sets off the bells, (because it makes more sense only the royal family can from the keep). This brings his story arc to a proper close – coming full circle in the sense he yet again kills a monarch to prevent the slaughter of innocents, something even harder for him to do this time as it’s his sister. But also fully completes his character arc in that he finally and fully breaks free from Cersei and redeems himself.

Before and between the above scenes, we see much more of a proper battle between Dany and Jon’s forces and Cersei’s – the battle isn’t won quite so easily. The Lannister army still surrenders, but only when they hear the bells rung by Jaime.

Dany, when she hears the bells, but sees the Red Keep, decides she's determined to take her enemies out. She doesn’t just slaughter everyone, because that is another stupid plot point, but instead goes straight for the keep. Her "madness" is still there, but only in enough for her to forget the innocents on her way. (Yes, I still like Dany’s descent into madness and think this is a key thing from GRRM, but the show handled it badly). Unfortunately though, she sets off the Wildfire accidentally, which Jaime tried so hard to stop. It tears through the city and hits all the innocent people anyway. It's enough for Tyrion & Jon to see she's unfit to rule, but without such a rash personality change. And whilst the Wildfire rages through the city, we see all the soldiers on all sides helping the innocent people and each other to get to safety.

Meanwhile, Arya, who isn't so easily swayed from her task, gets to Cersei just as Jaime kills her. Jaime is about to give up after he rings the bells, because he's upset he’s had to kill his sister - even if he's not in love with her anymore, she's still his sister and he still cares a lot about her. But when he sees Arya and the Red Keep under attack from Dany and Drogon, he remembers his vow to save both Stark girls. It gets him fighting again and him and Arya both help each other escape the Red Keep. When they’re trying to escape is around the time the Wildfire is set off by Dany and we see Jaime badly injured with Arya (who knows he’s on the right side for killing Cersei), helping him up. The episode ends with us not being too sure if they made it out alive.

The next and final episode, we've still got going relatively similar with Tyrion wandering through the wreckage of Kings Landing. He finds a bunch of Lannister soldiers near the Red Keep and a badly injured Jaime is there. Arya's there too, but not as badly injured, but much more than the show which was too unrealistic in that regard.

Jaime tells Tyrion he was trying to stop Cersei, but the Wildfire went off anyway. Dany doesn't have much remorse about this - she sees it is a necessary casualty in winning the war. She still gives her speech, but it’s not quite as tyrannical. But both Tyrion & Jon are not happy about this, so the rest of the story with Dany’s death goes the same. Only we see Dany realising why Jon is killing her properly this time. Drogon doesn’t destroy the throne - because that symbolism, though looking cool, isn’t ever then taken through properly in the show (ie we still end up with a King).

However, because Jon is technically the rightful heir to the throne, not Dany, the Lord Council members demands he’s set free and made king. He was in his right to kill the “real” usurper. Grey Worm doesn't like this, but as most of his soldiers are now dead, because they've fought in lots of battles now - same with the Dothraki - he has little choice. (Seriously, in the show where did all these extra Dothraki and Unsullied come from?!) So Jon's released and Tyrion too (he still gets arrested for freeing Jaime, even though Jaime was on their side all along, because it’s another sign that Dany’s not herself now, her thirst for power has totally overtaken her idealism)

Jon though, doesn’t want to be King, so they still all elect Bran, only they focus on the real reason Bran would be a good king - because he can see everything and therefore use it to make wise kingly decisions.

The Small Council's much the same; Brienne can still be head of the Kings Guard, although Bran changes the rules so they can still marry people and have kids (he’s all knowing, it’s less relevant for him to have such a committed Kings Guard) and so her and Jaime can marry. Jaime becomes the commander of the army/Master of War again, because he’s proven himself worthy. He’s still also Lord of Casterly Rock, although he doesn’t live there, but his and Brienne’s children can inherit it and also Tarth. Bronn's made his second in command (not Master of Coin which makes no sense.) Tyrion's still the Hand, because he did do a good job of it back in the days before Dany (and the show runners made him stupid).

Jon chooses to go North to be with his Wilding friends, although he’s not exiled and there is no Night Watch now. (Seriously, that’s the only way to deal with the people who would otherwise join the Night Watch?) Sansa’s just made warden of the North, because splitting the country up further seems counter to the theme of working together we had in the show. (I think Sansa would indeed make a great ruler, but she doesn’t need to actually become Queen. Just the best Warden of the North ever!) Arya still leaves to find what’s West of Westeros, but it's based on the idea she'll be back and of course totally left open ended whether she eventually reunites with Gendry (in my head canon she totally does). He’s there waving her off and she looks a little sad as she watches him whilst she sails away...

And Pod still becomes a Knight.

There. That’s my ending. Of course, there’s lots more I’d like to change in Season 8, and also Season 7 which had its own share of bad plot points, but this is meant as a few tweaks to the biggest issues I had, rather than a full on rework.

And I’m gonna have this as my headcanon, because I’m still bitter about how they did end things on the show, especially for Jaime. He had one of the best character arcs on the show and no one can convince me it wasn’t anything but completely wasted and destroyed in the end. For no other real reason but bad writing and a total lack of understanding/regard for his character. Such a shame.

#Game of Thrones

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fallout-snippets · 5 years

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um i love how u write x6, how do u think he would interact w the sosu + other companions post game railroad ending, assuming he was sent to a settlement and isnt immediately hostile to the sosu?

(i know he technically gets hostile if you do any other ending but the institutes, but that’s shit writing and character neglect on bethesdas part.)

Immediately after he’s on high alert, but not looking for trouble. There’s no way he can take on everyone and if he flees, then what? He has nowhere to go. It’s not like he didn’t know it was coming either though. It doesn’t take long after he becomes Soles companion that he realizes that they don’t really have any intentions to join the Institute.

He’d probably blend in with the shadows, waiting for Sole to tell him what to do because honestly, he has no clue what to do or what his purpose is now. Maybe Sole is about to kill him and they just forgot about him. He’s fine with that. Maybe they’re about to make an example out of him to all the surviving Institute affiliates. That’s okay too. As long as something happens soon. He finds himself scared for the first time in... forever. Maybe he should’ve fought with the Institute against Sole but he knows that it wouldn’t matter. Sole would win anyway and honestly he doesn’t like the idea of going against them.

When Sole does find him, he has to smother the fight or flight response. There’s nowhere to run and there’s no way he’ll fight them. He accepts his fate and waits for the final blow. Instead Sole puts their arms around him, pulling him tight against them. He feels them sobbing against his shoulder and he knows enough to put his arms around them too.

He doesn’t know how to cry though.

He’s granted a place with them, if he promises to do right by the people and cast off any allegiance to the Institute and their ways. That’s not a problem to him, it was never his opinion. He wasn’t allowed to have one. All he needs is someone to follow that he trusts and so far Sole has been the only one.

He knows Cait doesn’t trust or like him one bit but she leaves him alone. He appriciates that. As time passes he won’t make too much of an attempt to make friends but he does commend her combat skills and ask to spar from time to time. She never holds back.

Codsworth is a gentleman. He would never make any comments or suggestions of bad character, but X6-88 knows the bot doesn’t trust him that much either. Technically, he is created by the people who tore his family apart, regardless of the bombs. Their interactions are always civil, however, and X6-88 sometimes asks for advice on proper etiquette.

Curie isn’t afraid of him. She might not properly understand his origins but she does love to ask about it. He appriciates her forwardness and doesn’t mind talking to her despite her sometimes invasive questions. They help eachother become a little more human; she teaches him to be softer and he teaches her to be a little tougher.

X6-88 doesn’t care much for Danse and Danse will never accept him. Their backgrounds are just too different, but neither one will seek out the other for a fight. Danse may, sometimes, express his distaste but it doesn’t bother X6-88 at all. He knows the inconvinience a fight among friends would cause Sole and he values them much more than he dislikes Danse.

Deacon and X6-88 rarely interract. He understands that Deacon is loyal to Sole as well but he knows that given just the slightest reason to doubt his own loyalty, he will be executed immediately. Their few interactions are always stiff and he knows that Deacon not only distrusts him, but genuinely despise him. They stay away from eachother as much as possible.

Dogmeat is a friend to everyone who’s a friend to Sole. He definitely notices how the other companions treat X6-88 but if Sole likes him, so does he. X6-88 adores Dogmeats company. Appriciates having someone near that doesn’t talk or request interaction. Likes to just exist near someone.

Hancock takes a while to warm up to the idea of an ex-courser being free to walk around people without strict supervision but eventually understands that X6-88 had no other frame of reference other than the Institute. Considers this his second chance however, and won’t give him a third. They’re not exactly friends but Hancock is a man of the people and understands social situations perfectly, and X6-88 tries to learn from him.

MacCready seems to be equally scared and pissed at him but he’s not in the business of acting on it. Their interactions are always civil and polite but brief. If Duncan is nearby he notices that MacCready becomes much more visibly distressed and so he chooses to keep a distance. Not just because it’s ethically the ‘right thing to do’ but because he doesn’t doubt that MacCready, if pushed into a corner, would do something rash and stupid.

Nick understands X6-88 better than anyone else and doesn’t hold his past against him, if he really is trying to reform. Nick knows firsthand how hard it is to do good and be good when people are continously doubting and using your past nature against you. Nick is probably the closest thing X6-88 has to a friend other than Sole and it’s kind of a friendship based on what they both are and are going through rather than a friendship based on interest and having fun together.

If there’s one thing Piper never thought she’d be doing it’s talking to an Institute puppet without screaming profanities too. She’s always cautious in approaching him at first but once she gets going she can’t help herself. X6-88 thinks it’s intriguing how her thirst for knowledge smothers her fear and he finds himself more than willing to tell her whatever she wants to know. Who’s going to reprimand him for spilling the secrets now? Not that he knows that much. Piper comes to understand that the Institute considered X6-88 a literal tool, nothing close to human, and that he’s trying to emerge from the power they held over him. She’s never going to ask him over for dinner or anything, and she’ll keep Nat a good distance away from the man, but she’s kind of sad to realize he’s not the monster she thought he was.

Preston doesn’t hold his past against him, like Nick, but is also going to make damn sure the Minutemen survive no matter what. Keeps an eye on him and the things he does but as long as X6-88 at least does what Sole says, Preston has no major problem with him. If someone else does, however, that’s between them.X6-88 admires Preston. The worst things that could’ve happened to him happened but he survived and fought through it anyway. He tells him sometime, that he never had much faith in humanity but Preston has proved him wrong. He probably says it much less tactfully and Preston probably doesn’t know if he’s being insulted or complimented but sees the struggle and just thanks him.

Strong assumes that people are wary of him because he’s a fearsome warrior or something. Doesn’t entirely understand the whole faction thing and honestly? He doesn’t care. Humans are humans. Also doesn’t understand why X6-88 apparently isn’t human? Strong is very interested in fighting X6-88 to see who’s the strongest but X6-88 keeps a respectful distance. They’re both two sides of a socially inept coin and there are only misunderstandings between them.

Ada remembers the Mechanist doing bad things thinking it was right until Sole cleared it up with her. Assumes it’s the same with X6-88. She’s not afraid of him. She kind of freaks him out though. If she’s a friend of Sole she’s a friend of his, more or less, but she acts as if she’s not just a bot. And people treat her like she’s not just a bot. But she is a bot. But then, isn’t that what people say about synths? And he’s a synth. So is he a bot or more than that? What’s the truth? Her existence and programming sends him down a spiral of selfdoubt and hard-hitting questions he’s not always ready to deal with (but that he does try to deal with)

Longfellow knows more than well that synths and coursers can reform and change their lives. The only real difference between the two are their job descriptions and hell, Longfellows just too old to give a shit. If he wants to make amends and change his life, let him. X6-88 appriciates the rare kindness Longfellow shows him but finds his lifestyle to not... match with his own. Has no idea why people like alcohol. The first time Longfellow got X6-88 to down a drink he thought he was malfunctioning and followed Sole around with a grip on their jacket until he sobered up. He’s not interested in doing that again.

Gage is probably a bit jealous of the reputation that follows X6-88 around despite the fact that he more or less follows Sole around like a puppy. Gage tries to push him into action but not because he wants everyone to turn on X6-88 and push him away but because he wants to see if it’s true. X6-88 honestly enjoys the testing, finds comfort in how firm he is in his emotions, or lack thereof. Doesn’t much care for Gages previous life, thinks he’s everything the Institute were convinced humanity had become.

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hejer-maomao · 5 years

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Hewo everyone! ｡◕‿‿◕｡ Guess who’s back to her hellish university and is feeling like dying once again? Yep, same as each year, it’s your girl over here!

Jokes aside, I’ve been SO damn busy lately, I’ve barely had any time to properly sit down and respond to my asks. However, today’s update is a little... special.

It’s actually going to be my very first work in the MLQC fandom!

I’ve been dying to write something for this splendid game for some time now but I never gathered enough courage to do so. And when I finally asked my lovely soulmate @shizenushi for some advice, she immediately encouraged me to write what I desired and even made her personal request, a fiction in the MLQC fandom!

And who am I to refuse my wife’s request? Her wish is my command.

I hope you enjoy the result! Do tell me what you think, if you want to see more of my writings for MLQC! I’ll consider opening up requests exclusively for it maybe? We’ll see!

Victor, Gavin, Kiro and Lucien: Kisses/Hugs/Special Touch:

Victor:

Hugs or Kisses?

Neither.

Victor is not exceedingly touchy or overly affectionate, at least when it comes to public settings. Tender kisses and warm hugs are often kept behind closed doors, as Victor is not keen on displaying the intimate side of your relationship for all to see. You are his after all, and he's too possessive to let anyone see how red your cheeks get when he claims your lips or how you slightly tremble between his arms every time he tightly embraces your figure.

However, this does not mean that Victor's affection is absent altogether. It's subtle, faint but it is still there. It's a hand on the small of your back to gently guide you among crowds. It's the soft smile that grazes his lips whenever you smile brightly at him, eyes twinkling in pure happiness. It's the way he never fails to wrap his long, slender fingers around your wrist every time he senses your anxiety or nervousness, silently promising that he's there for you, and he's not going anywhere. It’s everywhere. It’s there every step of your way, providing you with the strength you need to move forward and with the reminder that you are loved. Incredibly and passionately so.

Special touch?

Sleepy touches.

Every time you doze off, your head nestled against Victor’s sturdy chest,his hands will automatically seek your skin. As if all of the affection he held off during the day finally broke free, Victor will thread his fingers into your hair, poke at your cheeks, caress your thighs and whisper into your ears. Any exposed patch of your skin will be pampered and spoiled with attention. Victor’s touch is feather-light, not enough to wake you up from your sleep, but unyielding enough to satisfy his hunger for you and maybe even make you softly moan in your sleep. Victor is just too careful not to let you catch him in the act, and you will lose your head trying to prove that you felt his hands touching your body the whole night. This man will deny it with all of his might til the end of the world, but even your suspicions won’t stop him from doing this all over again every night.

Gavin:

Hugs or Kisses?

Hugs.

Gavin loves absolutely nothing more than to hold you within his arms, bury his face in the crook of your neck and stay there even if the world crumbled around you. The minute he sees you walking down the stairs of you apartment to meet him, Gavin has already his arms wide open to tenderly embrace you before even uttering a proper hello. The last thing he never fails to do when it’s time to separate for the night is to pull you closer to his chest and rest his head on top of your head, chuckling in satisfaction each time you complain how heavy he is. Hugs allow Gavin to feel your warmth, sense your steady heartbeats against him and your warm breath in his ear. Every time he holds you, Gavin’s tense muscles and anxious nerves instantly relax. You’re there. You’re fine, and you’re with him. And nothing can make him any happier.

Special touch?

Holding hands.

It might sound too mundane and common, but Gavin simply adores holding hands with you. He loves it. He loves how warm your skin feels against his, how your hand fits perfectly into his own, as if it was made just for him. He likes to be connected with you, while walking, while talking, while doing nothing at all. Only when your hand is in his, the wind surrounding you both, gently playing with the strands of your hair, does Gavin feel at peace

Sometimes, Gavin would let go of your hand only to caress your palm, tease your fingers one by one, and tenderly kiss your knuckles. He adores looking at your reaction every time he does it, likes it when you blush and stutter, before entrusting yourself to him, drowning in all of the love Gavin pours for you.

Kiro:

Hugs or Kisses?

Both.

This man is in a state of constant thirst for your touch, in any form you offer it. Whether be it soft good luck pecks before he goes out on stage of one of his biggest concerts, or those congratulatory passionate kisses you excitedly give to him each time he wins an award, or those sleepy, sloppy good morning kisses you drop on his lips before dragging yourself out of bed to seek your cup of coffee, Kiro loves each and every one of them.

He loves your tender yet short hugs when you send him off to work, the long and tight embraces you envelop him in when he comes back at midnight to you, tired and exhausted. Kiro feels safe within your arm, loved, appreciated and treasured.

As long as he can touch your skin and feel your warmth on his flesh, Kiro is satisfied.

Special touch?

A soft peck on your nose.

These special kisses are reserved for the days where you’re feeling so down you can barely muster up the courage to smile even at Kiro, the days where your heart feels like it’s being shredded into pieces and your demons come to haunt your every thought, leaving you feeling hollow and weak.

On those awful days, Kiro gently would cup your cheeks with his two warm palms, stare at your eyes for few long seconds before dropping a sweet peck on the tip of you nose. He then watches with absolute satisfaction as you scrunches up your nose, softly chuckling at his actions before tenderly telling him how stupid he is, all the while looking at him with so much love in your eyes, the weight on your shoulders suddenly feeling lighter, demons banished from your mind.

You believe that Kiro’s kisses are magical, and no one can convince you otherwise.

Lucien:

Hugs or Kisses?

Kisses. All types of kisses.

Whether it's a tiny peck on your cheek or a French kiss that steals your breath away, a fleeting touch of lips on your neck or an open-mouthed kiss that sends shivers down your spine, Lucien is constantly pressing his lips against your skin. His kisses come randomly and spontaneously, and you can never predict them. You can receive them first in the morning, when you're drowning between your work papers or even when you're crying your eyes out over a sad movie. No matter how good or bad you are feeling, Lucien's first reaction to console or praise you is to kiss you.

It has become such a natural routine, that you started expecting Lucien’s kisses, turning your face towards your lover once you see him walking up to you, earning you a low, amused chuckle from him as he bends down to kiss you on whatever spot he fancied at the moment.

Special touch?

Hugging you from behind.

Using his height to his advantage, Lucien would come up to you while you're applying your make-up in front of the mirror, trying (without avail) to cook him a simple dish in the kitchen, or simply staring out of the window as a small drizzle falls from the sky, and embraces you from behind, settling his chin on top of your shoulder. Lucien would hum dismissively at your questioning glance and urges you to resume your work and not pay him any attention. He's simply content by nestling his face in the crook of your neck, breathe in your soothing scent and feel your warmth surround him.

Lucien can stay like that for hours upon hours with no end in sight, following you with his arms still around you, as you move around the room completing different tasks. You got so used to these hugs to the point you didn't mind him hanging off of you anymore, and you simply let him do what he wanted, spoiling him as much as possible.

#mr lover queen's choice #mlqc #mlqc victor #mlqc gavin #mlqc kiro #mlqc lucien #these were so fun to write!!#♥‿♥#I've been wanting to expand the fandoms I write in for some time now #but it took me some time to decide since I really need to be absolutely in love with a fandom in order to do it!#and MLQC is simply too addictive!#if you guys like these I'll try my hands at more!

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mysterylover123 · 4 years

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My Top 10 Halloween Episodes

mysterylover123

Happy Halloween Everyone!

I’ve been rewatching my favorite shows’ Halloween episodes as a means to prepare for the holiday (and get ideas for things to do!) and I’ve decided to compile a list of my Top 10 favorites. These are the episodes I consider the best, the most packed with spooky goodness and Halloween surprises, of all the shows I’ve seen. Let me know if there’s one I should check out!

#10. The Simpsons “Treehouse of Horror V”

“NO TV AND NO BEER MAKE HOMER SOMETHING SOMETHING.” “GO CRAZY?” “DON’T MIND IF I DO!”

While I do wish Simpsons had stopped at Season 10 like most, I can still acknowledge its absolute mastery of the Halloween episode with this annual anthology. And like most, I can also concede that the best of the best, the creme-de-la-creme, is the 5th one: The Shinning parody of course, first and foremost, is absolutely classic and deservedly so. Having recently endured a week without power, and thus NO TV AND NO...NOT BEER BUT COFFEE...I totally get where Homer is coming from. The other two segments, and other Halloween eps, are also strong as well. But you can’t have a proper TOP 10 HALLOWEEN EPS list without a Treehouse of Horror. So here it is!

#9. Spectacular Spider-Man The Uncertainty Principle”

“Twas the night before Halloween, and no folks were stirring, not even Green Gob...lan.”

Spidey is one of the few superheroes with both the whimsical roster of characters and the appropriately spooky rogues gallery to make for great Halloween episodes. While Spider-Man and his amazing friends in 1981 started out with it’s own Goblin Halloween ep, my nod has to go to Spectacular’s ‘Uncertainty Principle’, a suitably creepy episode featuring all the stuff you want around this holiday. The cast in whacky costumes, spooky decor, and creepy plotlines about the Green Goblin and the arrival of the Symbiote. It’s even more horrifying in hindsight when you find out what’s really going on in the series finale...but for itself, it’s a suitably spooky time. Also, Spider-Man dressed as Spider-Man for Halloween.

#8. Angel “Life of the Party”

“Some are saying it’s an even better ritual sacrifice than the one last year.”

The absolute master of the Halloween episode is uncontrovertibly the Buffy-verse. I have 3 entries on this list alone, and it was hard to resist including a forth. But for now, let’s start out with Angel’s sole incursion into the Halloween genre, an Office Party ep from their 5th season. Spoiler alert: Season 5 is about Team Angel taking over Wolfram and Hart and trying to use it for good. The Halloween party there is a big deal and Lorne is going nuts from planning it. Consequently, we get a wild ride of demon guests, LorneHulk, Team Angel doing crazy things, and whacky Halloween decor. Spike smiling and partying out like a loon is definitely worth htetheprice of admission.

#7. Friends “The One w/ the Halloween Party”

“I am a woman who spent a ton of money on this dress and wants to wear it until she is too big to fit into it.”

I had actually never seen the Friends Halloween episode until this year. I definitely enjoyed it; the cast’s costumes are funny, the various Halloween antics are adorable - especially Rachel being pushed around by candy-randy kids - and the Halloween-y atmosphere is quite convivial. Though as a comic book nerd, I must point out how completely absurd Joey’s suggestion of ‘who would win, Catwoman or Supergirl’ being Catwoman. Like, seriously? A nonpowered thief vs a freaking Kryptonian? Even people who don’t read comic books should know the answer to that one! Were people in the year 2001 really that clueless? But anyway, on a more somber note, this was apparently the first one they shot after 9/11, and ended up Lisa Kudrow’s favorite, because a stranger thanked her for making them laugh. Aw!

#6. South Park “A Nightmare on Face Time”

“Oh, and Kenny? Stay gold.”

SP has a number of Halloween episodes, but my favorite has to be this one from 2014. There’s two main plotlines and they’re both Peak Halloweeny goodness. First, there’s Randy reenacting The Shining as his new Blockbuster video goes under due to Netflix stealing business, which is absolutely hilarious. Then there’s the boys as The Avengers, hoping to win a costume contest despite Stan having to FaceTime. This part is full of trick-or-treating goodness, with each of the costumes being perfect for the kid (WE HEAR KENNY’S VOICE! ALBEIT DISTORTED!) and the comedy of how seriously everyone takes Stan’s ipod battery dying being absolutely killer. Certainly wins the prize for Funniest Halloween Ep Ever. (Also, Kyle’s thor costume. Thor would obviously look so much cooler with that hat.)

#5. Buffy “Halloween”

“It’s come as you aren’t night!”

The second of the Buffyverse Halloween entries on the list. Not just a great Halloween ep but a great Buffy ep too, this one is absolutely rolling in seasonal riches. Pumpkin patch vamp fight! Halloween decorated Bronze! Ethan Rayne turning everyone into their costumes is such a clever gimmick, and as usual with a Buffy ep they do more with it than just that. Noblewoman!Buffy, Military!Xander and Ghost! Willow are each a treat to watch as they try something new with their lives. I’m a little annoyed by the “not like other girls” sappy Bangel ending, but otherwise, this one is just golden. (My shipper heart rejoices in the Cangel Bronze Date and Buffy being awfully flirty with Willow as well, for the record).

#4. Parks and Rec “Halloween Surprise”

“You can’t plan your future, Leslie. You just gotta let it happen.”

Parks and Rec is another one with a plethora of great Halloween eps to choose from (something about blonde female leads I guess). This one takes the spot for being the most substantial, plot-wise, of all four, including lots of changes in the story and a great lesson at the end - though also for having the best costumes (Rosie the riveter Leslie! Princess Diane), the best celebration (Screening of Death canoe 4 Murder at blood Lake sounds like an absolutely delightful way to spend a Halloween) and the best ending (BEN PROPOSES TO LESILE OMG). The only thing it’s missing is April, who only cameos at the start. But she gets plenty to do in the other Halloween eps, so I’ll forgive it.

#3. Frasier “Halloween”

“I’m Waldo. From Where’s Waldo. You know, the guy you can’t find because he blends into the crowd.” “I don’t know, but I’d love a demonstration.”

Frasier is absolute peak sitcom comedy, especially with the Farce plotline. This one is a great, sophisticated classic, with Niles throwing a Library association ball - which means everyone must dress as a character from literature. Niles is Cyrano, Martin is Holmes, Frasier and Daphne are from the Canterbury tales, and Roz is O from the Story of O. The real conflict of the ep is “Is Roz Pregnant” and everyone mistaking who’s pregnant by whom. The climax is Niles proposing to Daphne who he thinks is the one pregnant from an imaginary fling with Frasier. It’s funny, glib, and absolutely whacky, with some extra Halloween shenanigans to keep you occupied, like Niles’ weird old-timey theme and the parade of trick-or-treaters constantly interrupting the skits demanding candy. Definitely don’t miss this one!

#2. Gravity Falls “Summerween”

“We’re getting older, there’s not that many Halloweens left!’

There’s definitely something about supernatural shows and Halloween episodes that just creates that extra level of quality. GF is a great show all around, and this little gem of a Halloween ep is one of the best of the whole series. It’s got everything: The Summerween Trickster, the trick-or-treating, the try-hard scares and the mad dash for candy. My favorite thing about it, though, would have to be the conflict between Dipper and Mabel about what to do for Halloween. They were always debating whether it were better to grow up too soon or try to stay a kid, and this one uses Halloween to illustrate that: Dipper torn between the Grown Up party and the Kid Trick-or-Treating, and the poignant way that rings true for all of us here in the US - that day when you finally realize you’re ‘too old’ for trick-or-treating - really makes this one strong.

Hon Mentions: The other Parks and Rec episodes; Buffy All the Way; the camptastic Smallville episode “Thirst”, the How I met Your Mother Halloweens

#1. Buffy “Fear Itself”

“Don’t taunt the fear demon!” “Why, can he hurt me?” “No, it’s just tacky.”

Like I said before, no one does Halloween like Buffy does Halloween. And this one is the best of the best, of the best. Everything you could want from a Halloween ep is right here. Pumpkin carving, check. Crazy party, check. Whacky costumes, check. Spooky real scares, check. The Gang’s costumes are a parade of awesome (ANYA AS BUNNY!) and the concept of exploring each member’s Greatest Fear is an absolute winner. I love every time a TV show tries to do a Greatest Fears episode, because it’s just a concept I get a kick out of - such a great way to explore our characters’ most primal needs! - and this is b y far the best. The atmosphere, the subject matter, the costumes, and the writing, which is seriously killer in this episode (”Prepare to have your spines tingled and your gooses bumped by the terrifying...Fantasia.” “Maybe it’s because of all the horrificthings we’ve seen, but hippos wearing tutus just don’t unnerve me the way they used to”) all make this, in my opinion the best Halloween ep of all time.

#the simpsons #treehouse of horror #Halloween #halloween episodes #spiderman #spectacular spider man #angel #friends #the one with the halloween party #south park #buffy #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #Parks and Recreation #frasier #gravity falls #summerween #top 10

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artificialqueens · 5 years

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If Only You Could Ease My Mind (Branjie) - bitchimtiredpls

a/n I saw a prompt on here a few days ago about 5+1 kisses and just had to come back for Branjie. Its been a few years since I’ve written and that was mostly Rajila and under a different name. I just wanna give the biggest thank you to Cat aka PinkGrapeFruit for helping me edit and just being amazing (and also alcohol for helping me write haha) I was so intimidated because she is an incredible writer and such a nice person for offering to help me xx

The first time it happened was unexpected. All of the queens were hanging out in Brooke’s hotel room since everyone had decided that from that day whoever won the main challenge was to host a little celebration. Having just finished filming episode one, they were all happy and enjoying letting loose a little after the stress of the first days of the competition.

Brooke was ecstatic because he won the first challenge. This had cemented himself as someone not to underestimate or fuck with. Admittedly he hoped that the others would see that in him the moment he walked into the werkroom for the first time. The Canadian anthem playing throughout the massive pink studio space was just the cherry on top of his perfectly fitted, sparkly red blazer and thigh-high gold boots.

Vanjie was just as happy at not repeating last years nightmare, something that had haunted her since the moment she walked backwards off the runway nearly a year prior. She was worried when Ru revealed that the first episode was another design challenge, but took everything she had learned on the show (and throughout the past year) and applied it. She made sure to have a clearly defined silhouette, while also keeping her style within the confines of what Valentina’s designated box afforded

He hadn’t meant for anything to happen, but sitting there on the small balcony with the smell of cigarettes and Vanjie enveloping his senses - Brooke couldn’t help but lean in. Staring into the shorter man’s cinnamon coloured eyes, he didn’t close his own until his lips met Vanjies. It was a soft kiss, lasting only a few seconds before he pulled away. However, those two seconds made enough of an impression that neither of them could stop thinking about it until the next time their lips met, only a couple days later. _______________________________

The second time he was a little more prepared. The queens were all gathered in Scarlet’s hotel room to celebrate the end of filming episode two. Raising up her glass, Silky paid tribute to Kahanna.

“Girl, she was fine as fuck and will be missed, but another bitch down and 12 more to go before I get my crown!”

All of the queens cackled at Silky’s ambitiousness (and thirst) over Kahanna. Each one of them gave a little bit of side-eye over her claim to win the competition.

After what happened at the last celebration, Brooke had made the decision to sit next to the petite Puerto-Rican but started to question himself as Vanjie got louder and louder the more she drank and the more excited she got. Once he realised that Silky was on the other side of Vanjie, Brooke really started to regret their seating arrangement. However, the moment that she put her much smaller hand on top of his, the regret dissipated immediately - leaving him content and able to stand the noise that the self-dubbed ‘Dream girls’ (consisting of Vanjie, Silky and A’Keria) were making.

As they all wound down and started to head back to their own rooms, Brooke decided to stop at Vanjies room. Fortunately, the younger queen was only a few doors down from his own room. Vanjie smiled at him, inviting him in with a roll of his eyes. Brushing his hand across her chest, Brooke walked into the hotel room and sat at the end of the queen sized bed that was situated in the middle of the floor. She noted that despite Vanjie’s prior fame and notoriety, she still got the same sized room as the rest of them.

Leaning down to tie his shoes (he noticed they had come undone on the short walk here), he heard the door close and the lock click into place. Glancing up, Brooke watched as Vanjie walked towards him. Her smile and heavy-lidded eyes promised more of the things to come. Smirking back, Brooke knew something was about to happen and couldn’t wait. He could feel the energy in the air like electricity, crackling all around them. One touch and there would be sparks flying. One kiss and their clothes went flying.

_______________________________

The third kiss wasn’t really their third kiss but going up to Vanjie in the middle of the workroom felt entirely natural to him. Like it was something he had been doing all his life. Something, he realised with a start - he wanted to do all of his life. If you asked him later on, this was the moment Brooke realised he wanted to be more than just a ‘summer fling’. Something he wanted to be real.

“Hey, Papi.” He said as he wrapped his athletic arms around the smaller queen, placing a quick little peck on Vanjies smooth lips. Brooke just couldn’t help himself. It was the looks they had been sharing all day, little winks and touches on the van to the studio. The way they sat at lunchtime when the shitty food was handed out and how they looked at each other whenever they passed in the werkroom. It all made him long to touch him properly, the way that they had the previous night.

Brooke could see that she was surprised at his actions and he wondered briefly if she had wanted to keep them on the down-low for a while. The sweet smile that followed their short embrace reassured him that he had made the right decision. A brief spark ran down his spine at the lingering touch they shared. The feeling recurred throughout the day with every glance and soft conversation between them.

All the queens in the werkroom looked over at them throughout the day. Giving each other little smirks and looks of interest at the new development. They still thought that no one had clocked their longer than normal glances, touches and intense conversations yet. Although neither of them had really tried or meant for anything to happen, it sort of just did. No one was mad at the development.

______________________________

As the weeks wore on and the remaining pool of queens grew smaller, both Brooke and Vanjie made an agreement. If one of them were to be eliminated the other would not be upset and would not lose focus on the competition. So when Vanjie was eliminated in fifth place, leaving Brooke alone in the top four, he tried hard to seem like he wouldn’t miss her. To be honest, though, it really hurt.

It felt like they were breaking up in a relationship that wasn’t even fully formed. For the single, painful week that they were apart. Brooke felt like a piece of himself was missing and he absolutely hated that he felt like this. He wondered if he was the only one or if Vanjie missed him just as much.

They hadn’t really even said a proper goodbye, she just left with whispered promises to see each other and long meaningful kisses. Filled with thoughts about the future. Whispers of dates and waking up to each other, laying in bed all day just to be up all night. Vacations and meeting each other’s pets, Vanjie with her dog and Brooke with his cats. Going to each other’s drag shows and exploring their cities with each other as tour guides showing hidden spots they found, finding new cafes and restaurants together. Just being together. No competitions, no hiding in hotel rooms, just them.

Brooke Lynn was surprised to see a small and familiar body waiting for him in the lobby of the hotel. Admittedly, looking back on it later he really shouldn’t have been so shocked. The kiss that followed their long overdue hug wasn’t something Brooke wanted to ever forget and he wouldn’t for the longest time.

The intensity overwhelmed him. Pulling her against his chest he sighed into it. He whispered her name softly as he tightened his grip against Vanjie’s arms, making her moan into him. His tongue made his way across her lips, the gentle motion making her gasp. He took advantage of her lips opening and moved to explore the softness of her mouth with his tongue. As he went to remove it, Vanjie caught his tongue between her teeth, gently nipping it before letting go. Pressing his lips hard against her mouth he tried to convey all his feelings from the past week and he hoped to hell that she could interpret the way he felt about her. The way he’d needed her for that week that was agonizingly too long.

Staying in LA a week longer than he needed to was an easy decision. Being with Vanjie made him happier than he had ever felt and before that week was over he knew he loved her. He loved the loud, brash, adorable and unapologetically herself, Vanessa Vanjie Mateo. _______________________________

Vanjie had no idea that one small kiss with a handsome Canadian on a balcony of some hotel in Los Angeles, would ever lead to this day.

As they met at the end of the aisle, underneath a massive arch of beautiful daisies, peonies and vines, Vanjie couldn’t keep his eyes off the man standing in front of him. At 6’3 to his own 5’9 Vanjie had to crane his neck to look into Brooke’s perfectly blue eyes. The older man leaned his own head down to look at him, seemingly staring right into his soul.

Staring up at the older blonde, he had never felt so content, so happy, so at home. He knew that no matter what happened, they would have each other forever. Thinking about this made Vanjie begin to tear up. He tried to look down at his shoes in semi-embarrassment but he felt strong hands cup his cheeks, tilting his head back up to look at his almost husband.

Seeing Brooke mouth the words ‘I love you’ made the tears come faster and by the time he repeated the words after the chaplain, a lump had formed in his throat. It made his already comically husky voice even harsher. Vanjie didn’t care though. Those two words were the only thing that he cared about that day.

“Brock Hayhoe, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband. To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”

“I do.”

“Jose Cancel, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband. To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”

“I do"

Standing on his toes to reach his husband, Vanjie couldn’t help the gigantic grin that crossed his face. As Brooke leaned down to kiss him, a smile graced his face, just as big. Just as full of love. Vanjie truly felt, that out of all their kisses throughout the years, all of their kisses since that simple, soft kiss that started it all and of all the kisses to come. - This kiss would be his favourite.

#rpdr fanfiction #vanessa vanjie mateo #brooke lynn hytes #branjie #fluff #bitchimtiredpls #concrit welcome #submission

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leviosarpg · 5 years

Text

Congratulations, JULIA! You have been accepted for the role of SENECA MONTAGUE! Let me just start by saying this decision pained me. Both Seneca apps I received were so well-thought-out and gorgeously written, I spent a good twenty minutes just looking back and forth between them in dismay and would have accepted both apps if I could have, in a heartbeat. But Julia, it was your vision of Seneca as this opportunistic, innovator, that pushed your app over the top. “Every conversation he engages is a way to analyze every single aspect of his interlocutor...Always seeing beyond the mask.” This right here is the exact vision I had for Seneca and you nailed it on the head with this line. Your writing is stunning, but perhaps what’s more impressive is your ability to capture all the little facets of Seneca-- his anger, his agony, his confusion-- you truly write his internal conflict with such ease! I cannot wait to see him in action!

Don’t forget to send in your account to the main and complete the items listed on the CHECKLIST!

THE PLAYER

name/age/pronouns/timezone: Julia, 24, she/her, gmt (france)

THE CHARACTER

desired role: Seneca Montague

I find his story fascinating. A muggleborn living as a pureblood. The dilemma it brings is pure gold for my drama loving heart. He is as a crossroad and while he thinks he has made a choice and he’s at peace with it, he couldn’t be more wrong. He has chosen to bury his head in the sand and to keep living as if nothing has changed. But everything has changed. Now more than ever he’s living a lie. He has always been a master illusionist, but is he good enough to fool himself?

He has to reevaluate everything he knows and to do so, he has to face the truth and come to term with it. Who is he? Does he truly want to know? What does it mean for his future? What about the Harbingers? What about Amadeus? There’s so much to tell about Seneca, so many directions he could take. Will he stay with the Harbingers out of fear and self-preservation? Will he take a step back and go back to his previous neutrality? Will it be a way to keep up the charade from a distance? Or, a safe haven while he tries to rebuild his identity?

↳ Seneca — derived from Latin senectus meaning “old”

↳Montague — a British pureblood family. The surname Montague means “pointed hill” in Old French, from the elements mont, “hill”, and agu, “pointed.”

gender/pronouns: cismale,he/him

extracurriculars:

↳ Slytherin’s seeker — no better position could suit him. To be seeker is to be a crucial element. He can make or break the game. A game only ends when a seeker catches the golden snitch. All players are important, but not as much as the seeker. He could have been captain, but Seneca saw an opportunity in backing another candidate and took it.

↳ The harbingers — self-preservation. Pure and simple. For a long time, he was steadfast in his neutrality, but now that he has a secret to hide there’s a desperation in him to appear as the perfect pureblood. No one can know. No doubt should come to light. And what better way than to join them. Though, he wonders if he didn’t make a mistake. But no need to be rash and make a stupid decision. He has made no promise, and will keep it that way.

↳ Charms and Potions club — he enjoys both clubs immensely. Potions require extreme meticulousness while Charms appeal to his more creative side. Both keep his mind blissfully quiet.

para sample:

THE PRETTY LIES, THE UGLY TRUTH

He’s furious. Teeth bared, eyes narrowed and fists clenched, gone is the mask. Gone is the prime and proper heir. Gone is the well-mannered and well-behaved child. Gone are rational thoughts, and in its place stands a creature of wild feelings. He has never looked more wild or dangerous. The crawling spine chilling feeling of disgust, disappointment and poisonous wrath seemed to toil within Seneca’s mind. The thing with words is that they fester like open wounds, once heard they cannot be shaken. Adopted, or more accurately bought, like a commodity. A mudblood amidst pureblood. Turmoil in his mind, he just wants to say something, anything. There’s just silence and his mother retracting her hand. His fingers curl, nails digging into the soft skin of his palms. It isn’t anxiety, exactly, that makes him feel like his ribs are closing in on his heart. Not anger, either. Not yet. Something undefinable, fluttering away like a butterfly each time he tries to stick a pin through it. The darkness swallows him in while his heart suddenly drops. He feels like the world is picking him apart by the seams, and at the center of it all is the secret of his origin. The reveal of his tainted blood. He has always wanted glory, not infamy. He has always been the golden child, the apple of his parents’ eyes. The perfect example of a pureblood heir. Except he isn’t. He is a fraud. A counterfeit. Of a masterpiece certainly, but still a counterfeit. He knows what awaits him if this secret is unveiled: the looks that would follow him, sidelong and knowing. T the whispers wherever he would go, cutting and degrading. The ostracization, alone in a no man’s land. His family reputation is at stake. His future is at stake.

He imagines, sometimes, being wholly selfish enough to leave it all behind. He wants to scream to them about his dreams of leaving reputations and politics and family behind. His dreams of freedom ; no calculation, no mask, no fears. But of course, he says none of this. And it’s not who he is, isn’t he? No, he is a master of self-reinvention. He lives for himself first and foremost, with dark eyes and a hungry soul. How easily Seneca slips from a serpent-tongued creature to a laughing child and the contrast would be frightening. He enjoys it. He thrives on it. Smoke and mirrors. He is a Slytherin through and through. Someone who happily straddles the in-betweens. Quick with a smile, sharp-tongued and in possession of a bulletproof confidence. A lie always ready on his lips, but a lie delivered with the confidence of the truth. His words nothing more than a delicate web of lies designed to cushion the fall, to distract from the real point. He’s a chronic over-thinker with a cunning mind for strategies. He lives with purpose, determined to succeed. He knows his place in the world, knows where he wants to be. He cuts away at the world and places himself in the middle of it with careful words and well-placed actions. Clever, resourceful, witty. The man with the plan. Able to improvise, to lie, to bullshit his way out of hell with only minimal casualty. Bones and flesh trapping an inferno of a soul. There’s a reason why he smiles and the whole world moves for him. That smooth, shimmering charm of his goes down like fine firewhiskey, and he knows exactly what to say to win you over. Careful and calculated, he’s no fool. He knows exactly what kind of veneer to hide his Machiavellian worldview behind, but as you swallow each and every one of his buttery words, rest assured that he feels no remorse for the arsenic he’s been silently slipping you all along. He loves to watch the fly get tangled in the web, only working deeper and deeper into the threads. His end truly justifies his means, and there’s no reigning sense of right and wrong to tell him otherwise.

But now, the illusion shatters. The truth finally comes out. And they try to reach him, pleading with him. You have to understand. A flash of offense ripples through his gaze, his lip curls, he’s filled with a searing heat that fills his chest and falters painfully in his throat. Understand what? That he does not belong. Unwanted. Given away. Part of a world who would reject him without a second thought. You’re different. Is he? How? Who is he? A pureblood heir, or a mudblood? He felt both mentally and physically peeved, and self-righteousness followed on his heels: it was aggravation on a leash. A rare inclination to punch a wall was tremoring through him. He is built for this world, this life. But what does that mean? What is he supposed to do with this secret? Nothing! No one has to know. Nothing has to change. Nothing and everything has changed at once. He’s the same, and yet a stranger stood in his place. He wishes he could share the burden with another. Though, it would be folly. It could destroy him. It would destroy him. If only things were different. If only. Amadeus, of course, comes to his mind. A weakness he’s quite aware of, and yet he yearns to open up to him. In another world perhaps, but as it stands, he has too much too loose.

He smiles, a thin smile with no mirth in it. He knows what he has to do. To play pretend like always. To wear a mask and to play his part. No one will know. He’ll make sure of it.

OTHERS & EXTRA (OPTIONAL)

no change.

headcanons

↳ KNOWLEDGE — Seneca has always been that kid with the knack for learning new things. As a child, he held more curiosity and more thirst for knowledge than most others, and that need for knowledge has followed him into adulthood. The world is his playground, and every day there will always be a nook or cranny that he missed the day before. Never one to turn down the pursuit of knowledge he does not yet know, Seneca will graciously accept all opportunities to further his intellect, legal or not.

Seneca is above all a perfectionist. Nothing is more insupportable for him than mediocrity. He considers that nothing is ever perfect, that he can always do better and he has to push away its limits. He sets himself a high-level of excellence and he expects the same for those around him. He is especially interested in complex subjects, not topics people expected, but those presenting a real challenge or seeming contradictory to his personality. Self-learner, he likes to expand his horizon, never one to take the easy way out. To him, “reaching the top” is impossible, because to him, boundaries are meant to be pushed and his “top” is as high as the sky can go. Being the “best” never satisfies him, which is why he constantly strives to see greener pastures. From childhood, there was nothing he wanted more than to show his ability and talent off to his parents and extended family. Even though Seneca grew up with a literal silver spoon in his mouth, it didn’t stop him from going past just “being content with his wealth.” No; he needed to earn it.

↳ OBSERVANT — For all that he seems to enjoy and partake in the life of a party, Seneca himself is not one to open up to others about his private life. Close friends are few in number, and even fewer he truly puts his trust on. He’s not one to express vulnerability, and often bottles up true expressions of emotion. Even though waves of melancholy sometimes over take him, he’s glad he’s able to mask displays of such feelings with ease. He is a mystery, wrapped in oh so many riddles.

Observant, he knows when to stay quiet and take in everything he can. He pays attention when people think no one is looking; it’s when you learn the most about someone after all. He pays attention to the little mannerisms that make everyone who they are, the way people interact with each other, what they say and how their behavior betrays them. Every conversation he engages is a way to analyze every single aspect of his interlocutor. He notices the little things that everyone dismisses as unimportant. Always seeing beyond the mask.

↳ MATERIALIST — Filthy rich and spoiled rotten, Seneca is by no means a man of simplicity, as is obvious from his taste for the finer things in life. He would not settle for less than what he thinks he deserves, whether it be in terms of material possessions or the company that he keeps. He has always been surrounded by beautiful things, draped in wealth and couture, and it’s hard for anyone who grows up grew up in the lap of luxury to be anything other than entirely in love with beauty. Being the only child, the only heir, and having grown up into such impressive features, Seneca was rarely told “no” and very quickly got used to getting his way. He has his fair share of vices. As most of those in his social circle carry the same traits, he murmurs that he has good taste. He adores loud music and pandemonium in its purest forms but is also the first to exit the room when he determines any situation to be vile, in poor taste or; the worst offence, tacky. Everything must be just so.

↳ PERSONAL STYLE — It is no secret that Seneca is a clotheshorse. His closet spills out and swallows the entirety of his room, the walls are lined with the latest and most lavish of fashions— all of which have only ever seen one wear or haven’t even graced his shoulders at all. A man of prestige values style over anything else, something that he takes very seriously, collecting his pieces with care. His style is always impeccable and elegant. Lavish, generally dressed in immaculate and perfectly tailored suits.

quotes

“Behind every exquisite thing that existed, there was something tragic”

“So many memories and secrets, so many burdens. Every life has such weight. I don’t know how anybody carries even one.”

“You and atlas are one in the same, my dear. Cursed to hold a weight you can’t bear and still standing. Not because you can — but because you have to.”

aesthethic

silver lockets, jewelry and music box, piles of books near his bed, stargazing, cursive and elegant handwriting, jazz music in the background, sweet scented candles lit around the room, soft blankets, uniform pressed to perfection, not a single hair out of place, long overcoats flapping in the wind, jewelry glinting in the light, tall buildings covered in ivy, looking for new secret spaces to hide in, exploring late at night, the look of red velvet against dark oak wood, love the aesthetic of cigarettes but hating the smell, marble busts of ancients art, the melted wax of a burnt down candle, curtains flowing in the breeze, frost of a window, golden autumn sunlight, a bookshelf full to the brim, the crack of lightening, watching a storm from inside, the rain running down windows, ticking clocks, a steaming cup of tea, nails dragging along skin, bare skin wrapped up in blankets, naked body bathed in sunlight/ moonlight.

random tidbits

charming young man with tragedy in his blood, constantly trying to hide something from someone, has an empty feeling in their heart, a little bit dramatic, do it for the aesthetic, confident yet insecure, afraid of failure, cares too much for his loved ones, the rush of adrenaline after doing something very, very wrong, the constant contemplation of life and death, wants to travel the world, sweet tooth.

magical id

WAND —

wood — walnut. “Walnut wands are often found in the hands of magical innovators and inventors; this is a handsome wood possessed of unusual versatility and adaptability.”

core — dragon heartstrings.

flexibility — fairly flexible.

PATRONUS — “Raven’s are a bit like watchers of the night, quiet and observant, waiting for the precise moment to show themselves. Chances are they don’t want you to see them, then you want, as they are very good at hiding themselves. Equally, they can be incredibly charismatic when they need or want something, swooping in out of nowhere and shocking you with their mysterious presence. They have a fire to them that represents their need for freedom, and this mostly coincides with their somewhat greedy nature. They are inwardly emotional, and can turn off what they are feeling almost as a switch, if need be.”

BOGGART — Mirror / No Reflections, seeing no reflection in a dream mirror implies that he has lost his self-identity. Or he is in a situation or environment that requires him to remove his individuality and conform to others. He is lacking clarity and questioning his self-identity. It portends rapid changes, mainly related to inner peace and views on life.

FAVORITE COURSES — potions, charms and ancient runes.

FAVORITE TEACHERS — Horace Slughorn and Anita Fairbanks.

PET — a cat – a bengal

personality analysis

↳ TROPES — consummate liar, unreliable narrator, the hedonist, the beautiful elite, gentleman snarker, magnificent bastard, man of wealth and taste, wicked cultured, tranquil fury.

↳ ZODIAC SIGN — Scorpio are passionate and assertive people. Determined and decisive, they will research until they find out the truth. People often say that Scorpio-born are fierce, self-reliant and independent. this sign is a conflicting ball of sharp nails and teeth. On one hand they’re these loyal, fascinating, powerful people with strong ambitions and drive. On the other hand, they’re moody jerks who will manipulate you and need to know every detail right this second.

↳ MORAL ALIGNMENT — A neutral character does what seems to be a good idea. He doesn’t feel strongly one way or the other when it comes to good vs. evil or law vs. chaos. Most neutral characters exhibit a lack of conviction or bias rather than a commitment to neutrality.

↳ MBTI — The Visionary / ENTP are inspired innovators, motivated to find new solutions to intellectually challenging problems. They are curious and clever, and seek to comprehend the people, systems, and principles that surround them. Open-minded and unconventional, they want to analyze, understand, and influence other people. They are energized by challenge and are often inspired by a problem that others perceive as impossible to solve. They are confident in their ability to think creatively, and may assume that others are too tied to tradition to see a new way. They are typically friendly and often charming. They usually want to be seen as clever and may try to impress others with their quick wit and incisive humor. They like to find the loopholes and figure out how they can work the system to their advantage.

↳ Enneagram — Type five, the Investigator, Fives are alert, insightful, and curious. Able to concentrate and focus on developing complex ideas and skills. Independent, innovative, and inventive, they can also become preoccupied with their thoughts and imaginary constructs. Detached, yet high-strung and intense. they typically have problems with eccentricity, nihilism, and isolation. At their best: visionary pioneers, often ahead of their time, and able to see the world in an entirely new way.

↳ Nine type of intelligence — Interpersonal Intelligence (People Smart) is the ability to understand and interact effectively with others. It involves effective verbal and nonverbal communication, the ability to note distinctions among others, sensitivity to the moods and temperaments of others, and the ability to entertain multiple perspectives. Teachers, social workers, actors, and politicians all exhibit interpersonal intelligence. Young adults with this kind of intelligence are leaders among their peers, are good at communicating, and seem to understand others’ feelings and motives.

Mock blog: https://senecamock.tumblr.com/

Pinterest : https://www.pinterest.fr/jylii/rpg-leviosa/

#rp #rpg #hp roleplay #hp rp #lsrpg #accepted #seneca

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reyhospacebitch · 6 years

Note

Maura Canonverse Prompt: Qi’ra spars with Maul for the first time during hand-to-hand combat training, and things go... Awry.

@mrsviolentfrights For you, Mina, I will write anything it seems. I’m forever a maura bitch now! Also, this was going to be a 1k word prompt but it turned into 3k and it could honestly have a part 2...

Qi’ra took a deep breath through her nose as she reached Maul’s office, steeling herself to be in the presence of a force user. Looking down at her travel attire - a pair of well worn pants, a tan leather jacket with a high cut black short sleeved top underneath it and lace up combat boots - she frowned. Rarely did she allow herself to be seen in such informal clothing; only a short step up from the garbage she wore on Corellia. If the man Maul sent for her hadn’t been so insistent on her immediate attendance the second she docked the ship she would have changed into a dress; something far more sexy and less comfortable. To some, especially within the syndicate, her insistence in wearing form fitting dresses and makeup made her a tease, a flirt, a whore even. She knew the truth though. Her wardrobe was her armor.

Maul wasn’t known for his patience. She wouldn’t dare make him wait.

She respected the man, his intellect and strength. His thirst for blood and his determination to be top dog. Ever since the first time they met over a year ago, she knew she could learn more from him than she ever gained from Vos. While he barely ever paid attention to her during their short trips to Dathomir with Dryden, she knew he was her way to power - to some semblance of freedom - even if she knew a slave with debts, like her, would never truly be free. First and foremost, she was here to protect herself. Failure would result in her own death.

And Han’s.

She couldn’t forget Han. The last thing the naive man needed was Maul out for revenge. A part of her still loved him. She always would, but he was too good, hopeful and still surprisingly innocent. He would never last in her world. She refused to let him get hurt because of her actions or as a result of stomach churning, despicable Vos’s. Qi’ra protected Han all those years ago and she’d do so again; he was the only one she could protect and, anyway, he deserved it.

Pursing her lips, she tightened her ponytail, fixed her bangs, squared her shoulders and knocked.

“Come in,” he rasped through the door. The sound of Maul’s voice simultaneously enticed and terrified her.

Qi’ra opened the door and walked in, her boots thumping against the cold metal floor while holding her head held high. “You called,” she asked, forcing her voice to exhibit a calm and collected demeanor.

She found him sitting at his desk, glowing yellow eyes ringed with ruby red, staring at a holo in his hands. Frowning, he didn’t move. His form was lost in a loose fitted tunic. For a moment she allowed her eyes to roam his body with a curiosity she refused to analyze. Placing the holo on his desk, he looked up, fixing her with a stare so intense she forced her body not to flee.

“Good. You’re back,” he said, his voice gruffer than usual.

Refusing to blink or budge, she nodded and waited, raising her eyebrows slightly.

The corner of his lip flickered into what she could only assume was a hint of a smirk. It was gone instantly. He stood up, the metal joints of his knees squealed gratingly as he walked toward her.

“Today, we train.”

“Oh,” she said, startled. He hadn’t asked her to train since that first time she first joined him on Dathomir when they had sparred with swords. She had assumed he wasn’t impressed enough to follow through with another session.

“This time,” he explained, bowing his head in a polite gesture, “No weapons. Hand to hand combat only.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said, swallowing her fear.

“Good.” He eyed her attire. “What you’re wearing will do. Meet me at the training facility in twenty. Do not be late.”

Grinding her teeth at the flippant way he commanded people she nodded and turned.

“And Qi’ra,” he added, making her freeze on the spot. “Do try to prove to me that Vos made an intelligent choice in making you his top lieutenant. He fought for you to be next in line, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have others who could replace you at the drop of a hat.”

Biting the inside of her lip, she smiled coyly. “I will do my best,” she cooed with just a hint of bite, before turning around and walking out of the room, speeding up the farther away she got. If she needed to prove her worth, then he was in for a rude awakening.

Qi’ra entered the deserted facility with minutes to spare, determined and eerily calm. She had spent the past 15 minutes on the floor of her suite meditating. Knowing Maul would attempt to throw her off with an insult again, she knew she needed the preparation if she were to endure it without snapping and giving him an opening.

Until recently she hadn’t spent much time one on one with him, but she knew of the man, the sith, Darth Maul, quite well. Ever since she’d first met him, she’d been compiling data from holos, stories told by drunk patrons of First Light and during every opportunity she got off world.

She knew of his obsession with the jedi called Kenobi, of how he lost his legs and his title because of the man. She knew of the time when people say he lost his mind in the midst of the Clone Wars, of when he first started the Shadow Collective and then pieced together the remnants to create Crimson Dawn. She’d studied his movements in the short time they’d spent together, both lithe and nimble, yet battle worn and ever so slightly frail. Scars marred his skin and the subtlest hint of a limp was noticeable after a long day of meetings or training. Yet, even without the force, she knew he was a formidable foe. With it, she had no idea what he was truly capable of. It was unsettling. From spending years at Vos’s side, she’d heard stories upon stories of how he handled the syndicate, gaining invaluable insight into the psyche of the man. The monster, as some would call him. Those stories, however, also instilled in her a fear unlike anything she’d ever felt.

As she wrapped her hands, he walked in. Even without hearing him speak or the harsh metal screech of his legs, his presence was unlike any she had ever known. He was unmistakable.

“Let’s begin,” he said, forgoing a traditional greeting.

****

She didn’t last long.

It took a minute at most before she was overwhelmed by his maneuvers, stuck in a frenzy cycle of defense and retreat as he advanced, attacking and swinging his fists. She got in one blow to his side, but it did nothing. In the confusion she found an opening and missed the signs. She lifted her leg to land a bruising kick to his ribs and he evaded her in a whirlwind move. Bending down, arms outstretched he flung his body with precision into a butterfly kick, landing to her side with a heavy clunk of metal hitting ground. Before she could respond, he swung his leg out, hitting the backs of her knees. She fell to the floor, hands and knees hitting the cushioned mat.

“Get up,” he ordered with ease, not even sounding out of breath.

She wondered how helpful the mechanical legs were… Did they make him stronger? Where did they end?

Looking up at him with a mixture of indifference, defiance and a hint of masked terror, she rose on her feet and lifted her arms in the proper position, keeping her elbows close to her body.

“Vary your movements. You’re insufferably predictable,” he spat with gruff ease, turning his back on her. He swiftly pulled his shirt from his torso and threw it on the ground nearby.

She froze, frowning. Why would he place his back to her? Did he trust her? No, that couldn’t be it. Was he so confident in his ability that he viewed her as no threat? Was he showing off? The gesture would set her off normally if it wasn’t for the way his back muscles rippled with every move of his arms. The surprisingly smooth maze of ruby and obsidian skin mesmerizing her entirely. In shock, she shook her head and refocused on why she was here. It certainly wasn’t to fuck the infamous Darth Maul, even if she thought about about it occasionally.

A slight creep of heat spread across her cheeks when he fixed his harsh gaze on her. Not seeming to notice, he said, “One of the many things I learned as a Sith was Juyo, the art and philosophy of manipulating, using and controlling one’s emotions before, during and after battle. It is a state of mind.” Taking a step forward, he crossed his arms. “Channeling your emotions into the fight. Feeling it until your attack is vicious, gracefully malignant, with the ultimate goal of absolute victory. Nothing else matters. Winning comes with the unpredictableness and roar of a manka cat while calculating your enemy’s every move, every breath and keeping them off balance with your own. Chaos is an illusion and it is your greatest weapon.”

Scoffing she glared at him while focusing on steadying her breathing, listening to the shallow air going in and out of her nose as she watched for any sudden movements on his part. “Why are you telling me this?” she asked, careful to keep her emotions in check. Surely this was a test.

“I’m helping. You have potential unlike any other student I’ve had.”

Qi’ra’s eyebrows rose in disbelief.

Smirking, he took another step forward. “For one, you are far superior in your ability to spot flagrant flattery for what it is, a manipulation.”

She stayed in place, muscles relaxed and ready; he could easily attack any second. One didn’t have to be a genius to decipher that Maul loved his tricks.

“You use it often, Qi’ra. Don’t you?” he asked, smoothly. “On the men who work for me? On Vos? On Beckett?”

Her eyes flickered to his lips, the baritone of his voice setting her skin aflame in a way it shouldn’t. If she wasn’t afraid he’d use the distraction to land a hit, she’d respond and keep staring.

“Or on Han Solo, perhaps?”

Panic flooded into her thoughts, clenching her throat in horror as her eyes widened. How did he know? Vos never told him about Beckett’s team. He viewed them as inconsequential, unimportant. Unworthy of his master’s time. Taking a steadying breath, she took two steps backwards and stayed silent.

“Wise choice… You aren’t easily baited, unlike my last second-in-command. But perhaps that’s a mistake; it made him easy to control. Do people think you are easy to control, Qi’ra?”

When he didn’t advance, she licked her lips and said, “Depends on who you ask.” Good. Her voice sounded even, unaffected.

He tossed his head back, appearing utterly relaxed, and laughed; a loud crackle of enthusiasm shattering the quiet in the facility. “That’s what I’ve heard.”

She almost blinked. She swore he sounded proud, even impressed.

This was without a doubt a test. A test of what, she didn’t know. Her ability to control her emotions or manipulate others? Her endurance? Her intellect? It could’ve been any of the above or something else entirely. All she knew was that so far she was passing. That much was clear for he was thrilled. And not like a nexu about to pounce on his prey, but a man on the verge of winning a war who was already celebrating.

“I thought you didn’t think I was worthy of training,” she said cooly, unsure of how much she should give away.

The corner of his lips twisted, his eyes wide in amusement. “Why did you think that?”

And in this moment she understood what he wanted. He wanted to be challenged.

She could do that.

Closing her fists, her nails bit into the cloth on her palms. The sharp pain helped her focus. Swallowing, she said bitterly, “Because it’s been over a month and we’ve sparred once - if you could even call it that - and half the time you refuse to see me when I call on you about something to do with the syndicate. I studied Teräs Käsi with Vos for over two years. I’ve taken out dozens of your enemies. Alone... I deserve to be heard.”

Nostrils flaring he eyed her like a caged animal trying to escape, but for once she didn’t feel like one. “Remember who you are speaking with, Qi’ra. You do not want to test me,” he hissed, jaw clenched.

Letting her arms fall to her sides, she took one step forward and tilted her head so she could glance up at him. Feeling brave she refused to let her fear show.

“Maul,” she said, drawing out the word with a sneer, “You may be my boss, but you do not own me. My chains were cut, my debt paid, the moment Dryden Vos died. I am not a slave or a puppet. Nor am I a whore, regardless of what others think or want of me.” She stepped further into his space, unruly wrath exploding within her like the warm blood flowing through her veins. “I may be young, but I have opinions and thoughts and as your second-in-command I will share them with you. And you will listen to me, Sir.”

His golden irises locked with hers, only inches apart and for a moment she felt something. Something she never felt in her short life: understood.

Sure, she’d felt heard and loved by Han, but they were teenagers. A lot had changed since then. He had always put her on a pedestal, seeing only the good in her; he still did. But she was different now.

Maul nodded curtly, just once, and unclenched his jaw, licking his lips. “See, that, right there? The rage that’s coiled deep within ready to burst if only you’d let it out, that’s what you need for victory,” he said, his voice deeper than she recalled ever hearing. “If you can harness it, let it seep into your very bones and not let it control you, then it will feed your violence, your attack. It will give you endurance, speed, strength. It will bring terror into the hearts of men you slaughter. Fear, like seduction, is as valuable a tool as any… Use it.”

Qi’ra let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and took a step backwards, her cheeks turning red.

“And young one, control is nothing without knowledge. Vos’s on such topics was underdeveloped at best, insignificant and pitiable at worst. You may have trained with the man for a time, but the fool should never have been your teacher… I will, however, listen,” he agreed slowly, eyeing her with a slight frown. “And teach you, if you wish.”

“You won’t pawn me off on one of your underlings?” she huffed, only partly teasing. She didn’t know how she felt about the offer and needed to lighten the mood, even if Maul wasn’t one for light.

“I am here, am I not?”

“You are.”

“Good. Then let us truly begin,” he said, his mechanical legs creaking as he bent them, staring her dead on. “My first lesson is this; Do not calm yourself, Qi’ra. Use your anger, your righteous indignation with any who have treated you as less than, a Corellian rat. Even me. Use it and let it fuel your actions. It will help you.”

Qi’ra let out a shaky breath. She had been holding on to so much for so long. Control has been her only salvation.

“How?” she asked, her throat dry.

“You let go.”

****

She did as he asked. She let go. And with it came a fury of welled up anxiety and tension she didn’t know existed. Grunting and screaming she attacked him, only letting him gain an advance every two or three hits. But he was still considerably more trained, more experienced. It was a lost cause, which only made her more angry.

Keeping her attacks as random as she could manage, she struck, kicked, pushed and pulled with abandon. He sometimes trapped her with an aggressive strike. Sometimes sidestepping her all together with a practiced ease. But rarely was he full on attacking. He was tiring her out, she realized mid block after minutes of fighting.

Changing tactics, she used a move she hadn’t done in over a month, hoping to gain the upper hand. Propelling herself into a jump, she grabbed Maul’s arm and flipped over. She landed on her feet and he stumbled. But he didn’t fall like other opponents.

In a second of confused panic on her part, he bent his knees, one leg out straight, and twirled in a dizzying movement. Her legs flew forward while her back slammed against the mat with a loud jolt. Standing up, he jumped, his legs flying through the air in an aerial kick meant only for show. Landing right in front of her he leaned forward and grasped her throat, keeping her on the ground. His long slender fingers, gloved in ebony bantha leather, wrapping tightly around her neck. Back pressed against the mat, he crouched over her form, caging one of her legs under him.

Trying to keep her head, she desperately felt around the ground for an object, anything to use against him. His warm palm pressing against her windpipe, she could barely breathe, but she couldn’t lose. She refused to.

“Tap out,” Maul hissed.

While desperately trying to breathe, she glared into his warm golden red eyes, ground her teeth and shook her head. Never, she thought.

A growl escaped from his lips.

Her vision started to blur on the edges. Anger and panic overwhelming her suddenly that maybe he wouldn’t stop, she dug her nails into his hand, piercing the fabric, and pushed on his chest with her other. He hissed but stayed put. He was too strong and he wasn’t going to stop.

Instincts kicking in Qi’ra lifted her leg to wrap around his legs. His hand relaxed slightly, his eyes sliding to stare at her gasping lips as her foot met her target. With a skip of her heart she slammed the heel of her foot against the back of his thigh right above his durasteel leg.

He grunted. She did it again, but this time using all her strength.

He screamed in agony, the leather clad hand sliding down her neck releasing his tight grip. Quickly recovering he grasped her thigh before she could kick again and pulled it up against his leg. Nostrils flaring, eyes wild, his hands gripped the base of her neck and thigh with savage mallace.

A moment of pure panic ran through her as she tried to recover her breath. Suddenly, before Qi’ra could do anything about it she felt the familiar prickle of someone entering her mind, poking and prodding for something specific.

Standing over a man, who laid on the ground of a deserted and dust covered cold bar, she held a long sword. “My dear old master, just relax,” Qi’ra snarled, bending over so she was only inches away from his face, the blade’s edge pressed against the man’s stomach. “It’ll be over soon.”

She plunged the sword into his flesh and twisted it in his gut. He went lax, his head falling to the dirt covered ground with a dull thump. But he was still alive, staring at her as blood coated his mouth.

“You whore,” he coughed as crimson dripped down his lips. “Don’t lie, you enjoyed every second.”

Blind fury overwhelmed her as she withdrew the knife’s edge and stabbed him again, letting the blade go in as far as it could before hitting bone. The old man’s eyes rolled back in his head and he breathed no more.

Her chest heaved shakily as she stared at Sarkin Enneb’s dead body. The man who bought her from Lady Proxima after Han disappeared. The man who made her his slave in more ways than one.

A man laughed and clapped behind her. “Well done, Qi’ra!” Dryden Vos said.

Turning around she steeled herself once more, refusing to let him see how emotional the kill was to her, nor why she wanted to do it.

“Thank you, Vos, I will forever be in your debt for this.”

Qi’ra gasped as she came back to herself after relieving one of the worst days of her life. Maul’s eyes widened with something she didn’t recognize for it wasn’t cold and calculating, but soft, understanding and perhaps a bit pitying.

She shrugged out of his hold, coughing for air, and he let her crawl out from under him. He stood, as did she. Now feet away from each other, he looked almost haunted and confused.

“What was that for?” she gasped, clenching her jaw.

“I didn’t -”

“What?” she snapped, a wave of conflicting emotions pounding against her mind, threatening to drown her.

“I - I apologize,” he whispered.

Her jaw dropped. Did he just -

“Go rest,” he interrupted. “Place ice on your neck or it will bruise.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He turned to grab his tunic. “And Qi’ra, meet me back here tomorrow at the same time.”

19 notes · View notes

tetsucchin · 6 years

Text

Of Reaching and Trust

Summary: He’d never doubted Takao’s passes. Not since their first practice together. Not even for an instant.

Rating: G for grumbly Shin-chan’s

Word Count: 3000+

A/N: So Extra Game still makes me very upset. I wanted to write something to make me less upset. Also happy belated birthday to the big green nerd~

AO3

Practice was just as grueling as it’d always been.

Regardless that Midorima had just been in an important match against Jabberwock, Coach Nakatani didn’t take it easy on him. Even as he used his selfish requests (now cut down to merely two a day), the coach would find ways around it. Even compared to Teikou and their training last year, it felt particularly brutal.

It was strange, Midorima thought, how much had changed when their third-years graduated. The whole team had to be changed, plays rethought and strengths reestablished and trust reformed. He expected it the moment he attended Shuutoku, but being the complete cornerstone for the team and having everyone depend on him until they sorted things was difficult.

And yet, he mused as he shot from the half-court line, nothing had changed. From how Coach Nakatani ran them until it felt like they’d break. From how Takao still joined him for every after hours practice. From how Miyaji Yuuya threatened him with all kinds of bodily harm for bringing another gigantic tanuki and keeping it on the bench.

Of course, their thirst for victory—clawing for wins like it was life and death because it was—hadn’t changed at all.

Coach Nakatani had them running practice matches, one against the upperclassmen and one against the new freshman. He did this ever so often, to gauge where everyone stood, in case there needed to be a change in their usual lineup. They were just training, but Coach treated them each like they were deciding tournament games.

Their new team members seemed to hold a bit of promise.

In particular, a freshman power forward had spent the whole year proving he could be remarkably irritating. The fire in his eyes reminded Midorima of when he first played against Seirin. He couldn’t jump as high as Kagami Taiga, and he certainly wasn’t as powerful, but he was fast. By the time Midorima wound up to make his three-pointer, the boy was already on him.

He glanced at Takao from the corner of his eye. As he always did, Takao noticed and paused a moment before nodding. Later, Midorima would think it was strange for Takao to hesitate.

Stepping back from the freshman, he jumped, already in shooting position. The ball entered his hands at the last possible second. He shot it, to the newcomers’ wide eyes and dropped jaws. As he watched it soar over the heads of his teammates, he knew, and his own eyes went wide in realization.

The ball hit the rim. Slowly circled around and around. Then finally fell through the net.

“…Holy shit. Did Midorima almost miss?”

“No way. Midorima doesn’t miss.”

“But I’ve never seen one of his shots do that. Not outside of a serious match.”

Commotion stirred all around them, loud and busy. Even the members who had just started this year tossed him strange looks, because they knew this wasn’t according to plan. A few even gave a skeptical glance to his lucky item, a large stuffed bear, sitting on the bench.

Coach clapped his hands. “That’s enough. Get ready to restart instead of talking.”

Midorima stared at the hoop like it personally offended him. That pass had a much lower accuracy than his normal shots, he knew that. But even taking that into consideration, it was still way off course and not within the regular margin of error.

He gave Takao a look as their teammates ran past them to their proper positions.

Takao always smiled from the inside out. Pure mischief and sunshine. Often times they were as infuriating as they were captivating, lighting up his eyes into dancing shades of slate blue. As much as it pained him to admit, Midorima liked those smiles. They suited Takao.

This wasn’t one of those smiles.

“Sorry, Shin-chan!” His grin didn’t come close to reaching his eyes. “Won’t happen again!”

Rooted in place, Midorima carefully watched Takao take off to the other end of the court.

Discomfort swirled in his stomach hatefully. He wanted to use a selfish request and ask for a timeout, just to get his bearings and maybe ask Takao what was wrong. He wanted Takao to pass to him again and his shot to sink into the net almost soundlessly. He wanted to get rid of this feeling more than anything.

But Midorima was bad with words, and so he jogged after Takao, staring at the ‘10’ on his back.

Just as Takao said, it didn’t happen again.

Not during the following practice games. Not even the next couple of official matches. Not even when Midorima looked at him upfront.

Because he refused to make those passes.

Takao never said as much, but he didn’t need to say. It was in the way he played. He didn’t waver in passing to the rest of the team, effortlessly dodging past his mark and tossing the ball in those ridiculously incredible ways.

But he always hesitated when passing to Midorima now.

Not enough to really catch people’s attention, or enough to throw off their game. But it was enough that Midorima noticed, and it kept digging under his skin. His passes were still on the mark, as they always were, but there was always that second before it landed in his hands.

That second where it was like Takao didn’t want to pass to him.

On top of that, Takao had stopped staying after hours to practice with him most days. He’d toss an impractical excuse over his shoulder before taking off from the gym. The days he did get roped into staying, he never wanted to practice their pass, which was frustrating since Midorima was trying to use it with his right hand as well.

Midorima didn’t understand.

Practice was wrapping up as usual, some of the first years staying to keep practicing on half the court. It was just like any other afternoon, except when Midorima turned to find Takao, the point guard was already ducking into the locker rooms. He frowned when Takao came back out, already dressed to go home.

“Takao—”

“Sorry, Shin-chan!” he yelled, walking backwards out of the gym. “Gotta babysit tonight!”

Midorima wanted to comment about how Takao’s sister was old enough to watch herself. But he was stopped short by the look Takao gave him. Another smile that didn’t reach his eyes, dim and distant. Takao didn’t meet his stare, which was probably a good thing since Midorima didn’t know what kind of face he was making.

As the door shut behind Takao, Midorima grabbed a ball from the bin someone graciously pushed over and launched it into the hoop on the completely opposite side of the court. Again and again and again. Until sweat was dripping off him, his breaths were painful huffs, and his arms were trembling sore. Even after that, he kept shooting.

Midorima didn’t understand.

He tried to think if he’d said something in the past weeks. He knew he had a tendency to be “hilariously blunt” as Takao put it. But nothing came to mind that would throw Takao off this much. Taking things Midorima said in stride was Takao’s specialty.

Maybe he had done something instead. Accidentally shoved Takao, or took his lunch by accident, or bothered him with one of his lucky items. But again, nothing came to mind. Takao was more fascinated by his lucky items than anything, and he was the one with the thieving hands when it came to the lunches Midorima’s mother packed for him.

So that left him with the option that made him grimace.

Takao doubted them. He didn’t believe they could make that pass. Whether it was because of his own abilities, or Takao’s own abilities, he didn’t know. Both choices made his fingers clench on the ball like steel rods, digging until his knuckled turned white.

He’d never doubted Takao’s passes. Not since their first practice together. Not even for an instant.

Just the thought of Takao doubting him made the next ball go in with a loud bang off the rim.

“My brother was so right.”

The next ball slipped out of his startled hands as he spun around. Yuuya arched a brow at him, in the same way the elder Miyaji did whenever Midorima said something that irritated him. Even though he wasn’t nearly as intimidated by him, it still made Midorima shrink back. A little.

He pushed up his glasses. “…About what?”

“You two are annoying when you get along.” Yuuya picked up a ball and tossed it to him. Midorima had to take two steps and outstretch his arm to catch it. “But when you’re fighting, it’s ten times worse.”

Midorima didn’t have to ask who he was talking about.

“We are not fighting.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

It could’ve fooled Midorima as well. He bit his tongue as he turned to his shooting again, tossing another in the net without a word. It hadn’t occurred much to him before, but they had to be fighting for them to be like this, didn’t they?

Yuuya sighed before walking over and pushed another ball into his chest. Midorima was taller than him, as he was all of his teammates, but the look Yuuya gave made him feel small. It was impatient and almost disappointed, but not unkind.

“Just try talking to him, alright?” he said, giving Midorima a parting smack on the back. “We all know you’re awkward as shit, so consider this your push.”

The door shut behind Yuuya, and it was only then Midorima noticed everyone else had left. Quiet and empty, the squeak of his shoes echoed in the gym. Normally it was filled with Takao’s loud voice, his obnoxious laughter, or his teasing backhanded compliments. As he lined up for his next shot, Midorima wondered when he had started to dislike the quiet.

His next shot went in softly.

Midorima was bad with words, but he had to do something to get that look off Takao’s face.

Takao had already tried to duck away from their extra practice.

He hadn’t even tried an excuse this time, instead sneaking out the door when Midorima wasn’t looking. Except Midorima was keeping an eye on him specifically, and took off after him before the gym door had even shut all the way. He followed Takao across the courtyard, to the bicycle rack where their rickshaw was parked. Before Takao could jump on it and speed away, Midorima called out to him.

“Takao.”

“Holy fu—” Takao jumped, nearly tripping over into the line of bikes. He spun around with a wild look in his eyes. Like he was cornered. “Shin-chan! Since when did you take lessons from Kuroko?!”

They stood beside the rickshaw, staring at each other. Midorima’s lucky cat statue was heavy, so he set it on the back. It was silent, the air heavy as each of them waited for the other to break the awkwardness. Midorima took a breath and remembered his push.

He scowled. “…What is wrong with you?”

“Heh?”

“You’ve been…strange.”

There was a quiet pause, before Takao burst out laughing. To anyone else, it would have been the same boisterous and ridiculous Takao as always. But Midorima knew better. He knew when Takao was laughing just to avoid talking about something, when he was trying to cover something up and bury it away.

Midorima growled without thinking. “Stop that.”

“What do you mean, Shin-chan?” Takao still laughed.

“Stop smiling and laughing when you don’t mean it.”

Takao’s face fell. His grey eyes went wide, blinking up at Midorima in surprise. It only lasted a moment before he couldn’t meet Midorima’s gaze at all. The ground, the rickshaw, the sky—Takao’s eyes nervously went to each one, teeth worrying his bottom lip. It was a look so unlike Takao, it was disconcerting.

Until he finally sighed and collapsed beside the lucky cat.

“Yeah.” Kicking at the dirt, Takao gave him a small, sad smile. “Yeah, I know I’ve been weird lately.”

Midorima waited patiently while Takao gathered his thoughts. Eventually, Takao rested his arm on top of the statue and reclined back to the look at the light polluted sky. It took even longer for him to finally form words, which Midorima never thought would be a problem with Takao.

“It’s just—I mean…” Takao sighed, scratching at the back of his head. “I mean, I’m just feeling—I’m not as good as Akashi, you know.”

“Of course not,” Midorima answered without hesitation. “Akashi is most likely the best point guard in the country.”

Takao snorted. “I meant I’m not as good at passing to you. But thanks for the vote of confidence.”

If Midorima were a lesser person, he would have rolled his eyes. “That’s beyond ludicrous.”

“You don’t get it, Shin-chan.”

“No, Takao,” he cut in, sharp. Takao’s eyes went wide again. “You’re the one who doesn’t understand.”

Takao’s mouth snapped shut. Any other time, Midorima might take the time to bask in a Takao rendered speechless. But at the moment, he was more concerned in how to make this infuriating man understand. Words had never been his strong suit, particularly those about his emotions and personal matters.

But Takao deserved this. He deserved an explanation. So he started with his thoughts from the other day.

“I have never doubted you for a moment. Not in any sense. Not as a teammate, and not as a friend. I can’t say the same about Akashi.”

He didn’t know how to say it, and he choked on the words bubbling in his throat. He wanted to say that while Akashi was more like he used to be, he still wasn’t quite there yet. He wanted to say that Akashi treated him like a friend on good days, and a simple tool to be used on other days. He wanted to say that Takao wasn’t like Akashi, and that was a good thing.

He settled for, “You trust me.”

Because it was true. As much as Midorima trusted him to make those passes, to get the ball to him wherever he was on the court, Takao trusted him just as much to make the shot. That’s why they were such a compatible team. They had the talent to make it, and they had the trust to make it better.

Takao had taught him that. Shuutoku had taught him that.

Sometimes, he knew things needed to be said out loud. To avoid any confusion or misunderstandings. No matter how embarrassing or ridiculous it felt. His face felt flushed, his chest hot, as he fiddled with the bandages on his left hand.

“Regardless of what school I could attend, or who I could play with, I would still want to play with you.”

With a wide stare, Takao looked up at him in what he could only assume was misplaced wonder. He slowly stood up from the rickshaw, standing even with Midorima’s shoulders. Like they always had before, his eyes started sparkling like stardust and mercury. Awed.

“I never knew Shin-chan could be so sweet,” he said seriously.

“Quit being absurd.” He shoved at his glasses, hiding his red face behind the palm of his hand. “I’m merely stating facts.”

“You really don’t get it though, Shin-chan.”

At the affronted look Midorima gave him, Takao started laughing again. This time, it was a genuine, mirthful laugh that tumbled from him in waves. He wanted to be aggravated, but Midorima couldn’t help the tension that eased from his shoulders at the sound.

“I know I’ve been weird and distant, but it’s not like I’m giving up or admitting defeat.” Steely eyes looked up at Midorima, determined. “I’ve been trying to make my ball handling better. So I can pass better. You’re going to try shooting from the right next, aren’t you?”

He absolutely was. But he hadn’t told Takao about that plan yet. He first had to get better at using his right hand, so he’d been practicing eating, texting, and even writing with his weaker hand. Somehow, without ever talking about what their next step would be, they started down the same path together.

He’d been so wrong.

Takao never doubted him. Takao didn’t even really doubt himself. He simply wanted each of them to get stronger, so they wouldn’t lose next time, no matter who their opponent was.

“I was wanting to get better on my own,” Takao continued. “So I could help you more.”

That was the problem though. The thing that rubbed him the wrong way through this whole explanation. Midorima reached out and grabbed at Takao’s wrist, feeling a hard pulse against his bandaged fingertips.

“There’s no need to get better on your own. Not since I’m here. Not without the team.”

Two years ago, he would have never dreamed of saying those words.

When Takao’s arm twitched in his hold, Midorima noticed how close they were standing. With a swallow, he tried to take a step back. Only for Takao to grab onto his sleeve in turn, holding him in place. They stared between each other, green on grey-blue, both colors muted in the dark.

Takao tipped closer to him. They were already so close. For a moment, Midorima’s heart raced at their proximity, and his lips tingled almost numb.

But Takao just knocked his forehead into Midorima’s chest with a chuckle.

They stood like that for so long, Midorima wasn’t sure if time was moving. He was absolutely still, spine ramrod straight and heart pounding against his sternum so hard, he was sure Takao could hear it. When Takao finally moved away, it still felt like it hadn’t been long enough.

“Since Shin-chan gave me such a heartfelt confession, it’s only fair that I pedal you home, right?”

Pushing those feelings aside for another time, Midorima reached out and snatched his lucky cat off the rickshaw with a scoff. Turning on his heel, he looked back at Takao over his shoulder. He could feel a smirk dancing on the edges of his mouth.

“Absolutely not.”

Takao gave a confused tilt of his head. “Huh?”

“We have a lot of missed practice to compensate for.”

Takao blinked up at him. Then he smiled from the inside out, a tiny sun revolving around Midorima’s orbit. Like mischief and sunshine. The kind that suited him.

“After you, Shin-chan.”

Midorima was still bad with words, so he smiled the same in return.

#Kuroko no Basuke #midotaka #my writings #I wanted to have this done yesterday #but I forgot my mom was coming up to visit #I figured it's better late than never!

60 notes · View notes

pomegranate-salad · 6 years

Text

Seeds of thought : Wicdiv #32 & #33

Work work work work work. I’ve never worked so much in my life. The college student easy life is a lie, kids. So I’m doing a 2-in-1 type of thing on the last two issues. I didn’t have much material on issue 32 alone anyway and I think these two issues make more sense as a two-parter finale, so I guess it works well. Thoughts and opinions under the cut, spoilers of course. And fuck Woden.

THE LAST LAUGH

“Well this looks ridiculous”

This was my - and I assume an unneglectable number of people’s – first reaction to the last page of issue #33 in which we see the severed heads of Lucifer, Inanna and Tara displayed on an altar. This scene was probably effective on some, but for me it immediately called back to Disney’s Haunted Mansion and Futurama, and I was effectively done for : there was no way I could take this visual seriously.

There’s no two ways around it : this scene is silly. First we have what should be one of the biggest reveal of the entire series casually thrown at us by a character who’s not even looking at the audience, Then the camera cuts to this grotesque display of living heads, and the scene is complete with a classic Luci one-liner that seems aware of how out-of-place this entire sequence is. Really, all that’s missing is the laugh track.

You could say anticlimactic ; but really should it be called that when it’s the creators themselves who intentionally destroy the dramatic potential of their own scene ? If you’re not convinced this was intentional, try a little thought experiment and imagine rewriting this scene to amplify its dramatic intensity. By doing so, my conclusion is that this ending had every chance of being a huge finisher like the ones we saw in Fandemonium and Rising Action, but every writing and artistic decision was deliberately made to be as wrong as possible, to ruin every emotional weight this scene could have had.

This is not an anomaly : in these last two issues, the creators seem to have engaged in the systematic destruction of every dramatic beat by way of grotesque and ridicule. It’s an undercurrent that ran through the entire second part of Imperial Phase, but only reached its full potential toward the end.

It started on the very first page of issue #32, trivializing Amaterasu’s death when the issue before that still gave it all the gravity fitting to the first death of a Wicdiv arc. Then Dio’s last moments of bravery reveal themselves to be a total waste, on top of ruining One More Time forever. Even Woden’s bad guy monologue is sort of too shitty to really muster the kind of epic hatred you’d want to direct at this character. Then we have Sakhmet’s death, caused not by her lover or her sort-of-nemesis Baal, but by a thirteen year old on her first kill. And that’s not even touching on the awful reminder of her fate we get at the end of issue #33. Then there’s of course the beep machine, and issue #32’s hilarious finish, which I think call for no commentary. Issue #33 is divided in two big reveals, the first one forcing on the us the awful visual of David Blake’s head on Woden’s suit and one of the most fist-curling yet somehow pathetic bad guy monologues in history, and the second one being that ridiculous finish scene. The two are even separated by an intimate scene between Cass and Laura that literally gets cut because there’s a stranger tied up two feet from them.

So if these issues somewhat feel like they’re played all wrong, we know where it comes from. They feel like a multipart climax that got flipped on its head, so not a punch would land or beat would work. That’s not to say there aren’t some really impressive character moments in there ; but for each of them, there’s an inversely proportionally bad joke or ironic twist sweeping right in to undercut the whole thing.

And that’s something worth examining, not as a mistake but as a creative direction. Humour used to be a respite in Wicdiv, a welcome break from all the bleakness and emotional scorching of the characters. Each of them had their own wit, from Luci’s cool girl referencing to Baphomet’s failed swagger, to even Cass’ dry deliveries. But now, humour is just another weapon to hurt us. It prevents us from caring about our characters, from connecting with their emotions, from taking the story seriously. As I was reading through what I knew were Dio’s last moments, all I could focus on was Woden’s villain’s speech and the fact that he was right, and that Dio’s death was probably going to be a complete waste, because that’s how Wicdiv works now. Just compare the weight of Amaterasu’s and Dio’s respective death scenes : they’re not even separated by a full issue, yet the light that’s shone on them is completely different. No matter how much dignity went into crafting Dio’s last scene, it doesn’t matter when it’s put back to back with the textual affirmation of its uselessness, the fact that we don’t even get to give him a proper goodbye, and even after that, Laura’s awful line about his life support. In 2017, I don’t think I need to explain anyone the power of humour in trivializing the most terrible situations and undercutting people’s empathy for each other. This is what Wicdiv has been doing to us these past two issues, against our will. Stopping us from caring. Keeping us at bay even when we’re trying to connect and get involved in the story and characters.

What does this change in the use of humour mean ? Personally, I link it to the change of our purported hopes as an audience. At the beginning of the comic and up until Imperial phase, we were still allowed to believe, like Luci, that a solution could be found, that the 2-year sentence wasn’t real, nor was the great Darkness. That it was going to be okay. But right at the moment when the characters allowed themselves to think that there could indeed be a solution, we, as an audience, started to know better : there was no loophole, no escape, no way to prevent the inevitable, whatever that was. We could no longer hope that things were going to be okay. So what do you hope for when things cannot be okay ? You hope that they’ll be worth it. If you have to die, let it be a worthy death. A beautiful one. If you have to go, go in a blaze of glory. If you have to fail, let it be at the hand of a worthy foe. Let it be worth it.

But it isn’t. And that’s what humour’s there to prove. When our hopes were that things would be okay, the comic responded with tragedy ; now that we simply want them to be worth it, its weapon of choice is ridicule. As such, it’s definitely not a coincidence that the 455AD special preceded Imperial Phase part II, as it sets the tone for the entire arc, up to its back quote : when it’s clear Lucifer won’t be able to outlive his death sentence, all he want is to be allowed to burn. But he won’t be. He will bleed out and his body will be dragged across and city and cut to pieces by an old lady then fed to the river. Such is the fate that awaits our character. Pathetic and grotesque in equal parts, useless unless it serves someone else’s purpose, following rules you do not understand.

If Imperial Phase is the arc in which the gods are allowed to think themselves kings and queens, then the creators are the King’s fools, the ones allowed to tell them their real value because they do it through jokes and flip-overs.

This arc is a constant battle between the story the characters wish they were in and the one they’re actually in. That’s why it would be wrong, for example, to think of the beep machine as a McGuffin : its thematic utility goes beyond a plot device. When just last arc, it was the subject of a joke to relieve the tension between two characters, now it knocks them back to their actual scope. Something so small and silly is the kind of device they deserve. The big, ugly, scary machine ? It does nothing. Did you think you’d be handed a huge plot revelation as the crowning achievement of this arc ? Of course not. Instead, what we get is a sad, banal story of parental abuse from a man who’s not over leaving his youth behind.

Yes, even the David/Jon Blake storyline, arguably the one preserving most of its dramatic intensity over these two issues, cannot help but feel like a sad joke when you consider that David Blake’s motivations are basically the evil queen from Snow White’s. This is what caused all this. This, an old wrinkled lady, and a thirteen year old on a mission from God. Those are our villains, everybody. As for dying a worthy death, our heroes’ options are a pool of blood or a mounted head on an altar.

None of this is worth it. At this point, it’s even hard remember why “this” sounded so appealing in the first place. And all this goes to contextualize even more Laura’s breakdown speech halfway through issue #33 : she wanted everything they had, and she’d have given anything for it. For power, for glamour, for this. For this joke of a fate that’s not even that funny. That’s what cost her the death of her family, multiple friends, and the rest of her life.

It’s also fitting that Jon finally voices something that has been on my mind for a long time : just how little do you have to think of yourself to think two years of superpowers would be worthier than a fully-lived life ? Through this character who, just like the other gods, is too good for this deal, but unlike them, seems to realize it, it’s yet again the sheer impossibility to make this deal worth it that’s shown to us. Because what becomes clear after this reveal is that if Ananke allowed you to become a god, it’s so she could see that you’d waste away your potential. House always wins, and when you burn the House down, another opens up next door.

So this is where we are : our hopes of seeing any of it be worth it have been ridiculed, and all that’s left to uncover is precisely which joke our heroes have been the butt of. Cruel ? Maybe. But if fiction so often serves as a way to quench our thirst for grand emotions and epic stories, it’s precisely because outside of it, it feels much more often like one big joke than a sweeping tragedy. After all, Henri Bergson said it best : comedy is much truer to real life than drama.

WHAT I THOUGHT OF THE ISSUES

I KNEW IT IT WAS ME I FIGURED IT OUT I KNEW IT WAS DAVID BLAKE I AM THE GODDESS OF FATE BOW TO ME MERE MORTALS !

Alright, I’ll stop.

But while seeing yourself being right is immensely satisfying, it cannot help but damage your read a little ; like I said many times before, I want writers to be smarter than me, to be able to take me by surprise. So if I’ve managed to guess something, that’s great for my ego, but it also makes me a bit sad : that’s just another plotpoint that won’t reach full impact with me because I had so much time interiorizing its potential.

And that’s sort of my problem with these two issues : they revolve around two kinds of plotpoints, some that didn’t surprise me (Dio and Sakhmet’s death, Woden’s identity, the reason for Laura’s attitude) and other that were impossible to guess (the beep machine, Minerva’s “identity”, the talking heads). Meaning that while reading those, I was pretty much letting the plot carry me without being able to pause and care. As I’ve said above, part of it is intentional, but it also means that there aren’t many punches in these issues that landed for me. I’ll definitely count Laura and Sakhmet’s last conversation as well as Cass and Laura’s fight as a success, but the “big” intimate moment of issue #33, the conversation between Cass and Laura, didn’t do much for me, probably because it seems to me that anyone with a functioning brain and ears knew exactly why Laura wasn’t her best self since she had become Persephone. I understand why Cass didn’t see it – as we’re discussed before, she is a factual thinker, meaning she can’t grasp with Laura’s guilt when it is so obviously unfounded – but I still don’t understand the decision to make this a big character moment when literally every sentence Laura had pronounced since the beginning of Imperial Phase revealed what she was going through. There’s nothing more infuriating that being fed information you already think of as canon. If you ask me, this moment is much more important and interesting for what it isn’t, that’s to say a romantic scene, than for what it is. Seeing Laura being rejected by Cass, and therefore breaking the pattern of dragging people in her self-destroying orbit, is much more defining than her whole speech on guilt.

The problem is that most of the work these issues do is retrospective : if the Jon/David scene on its own has limited impact, the new depth it gives to all the Woden scenes we’ve already been through is vertiginous. Like I said, I did consider what the meaning of David Blake being Woden would be, but that’s another thing to be confronted with the actual fact. When you consider that David is talking to his decapitated, imprisoned son when he’s pouring out his thoughts make issue #14 go from merely quite repulsive to one of the most skin-crawlingly nauseating pieces of media ever written. I can’t imagine what the creators went through crafting this issue while knowing the entire story.

As for the rest of the reveals, it’s a little hard to weigh on them without devolving into hardcore theorizing. We’re basically at the last stop before the comic has to lay out its hand ; it already managed to delay it through two entire arcs whose very point was to see how long they could get this blind game going. But for me as a reader, it also means I’m at the point in the story that’s the least interesting to me : the one where I have no choice than to follow the train as it’s well on its tracks, without any possibility to pause or jump ahead. I have to wait for the full story to know whether any of these twists paid out or not ; at this stage, I have both too much and too little to really be able to do something with it emotionally or intellectually.

So as a final verdict because I have to go back to cramming for administrative litigation, I’d say these are two issues I’ll have to revisit once the comic is over, because I suspect they’ll be a lot better with the full story in hand. Most of its impact is on the issues before them and in the groundwork they lay out for the final year. So as a stop point, they may not hold much interest, but I can definitely see them be one of the comic’s most astute cogs once it’s done and over. As a two-parter finale, I like it more than the Imperial Phase (part I) finale : it’s more coherent in its construction and doesn’t try to bite off more than it can chew. It’s mostly plotpoints and twists, meaning it’s my least favourite kind of read, but once I’m able to put that aside to see it instead as a character work thread in a bigger design, it’ll probably hold my interest much more. But as of right now, I can at least commend it for how much it makes me want to reread everything from the beginning. Which I definitely do not have the time for right now. Damn you. Damn you all.

#wicdiv #seeds of thought #suprise fellow fans i bet you thought you'd seen the last of me

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sobdasha · 4 years

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i got caught up with this not because i did better but because i’ve had no time/watched some tv

War for the Oaks, Emma Bull I began reading this book at the same time as The Innkeeper's Song, listed below. I started out dragging my feet on this one and racing through TIS. But one book got progressively more amazing while the other book got progressively less impressive and my better book is this one. This was the roomie's first brush with urban fantasy, and one of her friends got her a second-hand first edition paperback, and so she talked about it a lot until I finally picked it up and she said "Uh but also I haven't read it in forever so I uh. Don't know how it holds up." (She rightly fears me because as you will have noticed I am a Very Particular Reader.) Reasons I disliked this book at first: - fashion choices that scream "1980s" and fashion choices that scream "lesbian" are incredibly similar and guess which of the two I am not getting, seeing as this was published in 1987. - Eddie is breaking up with her garbage boyfriend which is good but she has an incredible amount of chemistry with Carla which is disheartening given that I know I won't get sapphics and Eddie will end up dating some other boy with whom there is no chemistry. - This is a book about rock-n-roll bands I don't know any of these songs (okay I might know these songs but I don't know artists or titles so I may as well not know any of these songs) it's kinda wasted on me. - oh boy I'm so excited to watch her and the phouka fight like Kagome and Inuyasha or any other pair with this dynamic yaaaaay /sarcasm Reasons this came to be a Good Read: - Everyone dresses so goddamn queer in this book that you know what, everyone except that jerkass Stuart is queer. He's garbage so he can be straight or whatever. It's my reading experience I do what I want. There's no way these people aren't bi. Also it's canon because everyone takes one look at the phouka and assumes he's gay. …………………………with slurs but still. - Good supporting cast. - I both failed to give the phouka a deep voice and also to sustain a Stereotypical Gay voice (which, the dialogue will totally 100% support), but I did accidentally voice him with Tatum's dub of Tomoe from Kamisama Kiss which was completely appropriate in the "vaguely gay vaguely British unambiguously prissy" department, and also entertaining because it reminded me of the dynamics in that anime but, y'know, better. - I almost gave up when the romance hit hardcore but it turned out later that was actually a fake-out that was meant to be garbage and set us up for the endgame much later, by which point Eddie and the phouka actually had the same level of chemistry as Eddie and Carla, so I could actively enjoy the ship. A win! Anyway it was fun. It may not have aged the best in the sense that it strove to be accurate to time and place (see: homophobic slurs), but the character dynamics held up pretty dang well. I would definitely read this again and enjoy myself; in fact I plan to.

The Innkeeper's Song, Peter S. Beagle I was very excited to read this because I was so blown away by The Last Unicorn but the more I read the more disappointed I got. Half the time I feel like that weeb who is like "hello I only like your fanfic you wrote when you were 13 and high on pixie stixs, all your stuff now sucks", and half the time I tell myself, "Maybe there is a reason I've only ever heard of The Last Unicorn and had no idea he'd actually written other books." As you have probably picked up by now, I have a knee-jerk dislike of first person PoV where it must prove itself worthy to me first, despite the fact that I like plenty of things written in first person. I also have a knee-jerk dislike of "I will change the narrator every chapter and announce loudly who it is instead of doing it subtly but unmistakably in the content of the text itself." This book had both. Despite all my harsh judgment, it would be incorrect of me to say that this writing choice is not valid. That this writing choice cannot be used to amazing effect. I do not believe that is what happened here. I did not feel it was adding much to the story to begin with (other than being the shortest and straightest path to advancing a narrative with many fronts), and I was definitely unimpressed when we got to the string of chapters, all of them less than a page and some no more than a paragraph, during the orgy scene where the 3 women have sex with 1 teen boy who's been thirsting after them, and they pay him a lot of worshipful attention in the orgy even though none of them actually like him, and also this is when we reveal one of the women is a man in disguise in the most confusing way possible so my cringe got even deeper as I waited for Beagle to fuck up a trans storyline. (It was literally just "I'm on the run so I'm magically dressing as a girl" but it took a really long time to clarify that after.) In addition to not liking the narrative structure, I just wasn't interested or invested in the actual plot. It didn't feel very urgent or important and at the end I was like "what even happened and also why did it happen." I was underwhelmed. I was definitely the wrong audience for this book. Oh also because I was not enjoying myself I started to get really irrationally annoyed by the way fantasy fauna and flora would have fantasy names and they would be italicized. In a first person PoV. Where the narrator is literally speaking the language that this word is native to. It half felt pretentious, and half highlighted what felt like a loose thread: everyone is literally narrating to someone (presumably collecting the story, after everyone has gone their separate ways) and this has all been woven together into a proper narrative, but our story collector is absent despite addresses to such a person. What purpose does this serve? Does it make it more ~authentic~ fantasy? Because I don't buy it. Now my suspension of disbelief is snapped; I'd have preferred it was either left out entirely, or made into a brilliant framing device like in The Name of the Wind.

Giant Bones, Peter S. Beagle This one was short stories "set in the same universe as The Innkeeper's Song", which basically meant some city names were reused, as well as all those italicized fantasy names and the "I am narrating my story to an audience in-story" frame. You know, all the things I didn't particularly care for. I pressed on to see if there was anything I might like, but since I can't remember, I assume there wasn't. Because this left me wanting, and the title was Giant Bones, I went to reread Conservation of Shadows by Lee instead, starting with "The Bones of Giants," which was greatly preferable, so much more my speed. That's when I did the write-up for the last round of books lol.

Nimona, Noelle Stevenson This has been on my list for Forever but I'm bad at reading new books. Anyway! Nimona was very good!! It felt, hm, very self-indulgent in the way that is amazing, where the creator gives themself whatever they want and the work turns out brilliantly because of it. I didn't think I was into friends to enemies to lovers but apparently I love it wen Stevenson handles it (see: She Ra reboot). Speaking of She Ra, I probably would have figured out where the end game was going if I'd read Nimona before looool. I know people referenced it when they talked ships but I just….didn't...pay enough attention. There was found family stuff I enjoyed, dad stuff, I'm finding that I am liking a lot of takes on monster girls, etc. Anyway it gave me a lot of feelings, it was funny, it was good, I need to get a copy.

The Dragon Pearl, Yoon Ha Lee The first time I talked about this book I mentioned something about the pacing and suspending disbelief or whatever, but I want to note that this time the pacing felt perfect and the plot didn't seem weird at all, it flowed very smoothly. I don't know if that's because it was a reread and I knew where it was going, or because I just read it awkwardly the first time. Anyway. Something that stood out to me this time is that, near the end, I realized this story is a bit animated Disney Mulan. There's even the "you broke this you broke that you impersonated a soldier but also you saved China so thanks" bit. Where The Dragon Pearl is wildly different from other Mulan-type stories that I like (see: Monstrous Regiment) is that it is entirely ungendered. (There are some mentions of gender in the book. These amount mostly to, "most foxes choose to be female because Tradition but one of my cousins decided to be male like my brother and no one mocks him for it" and "official name tags also include handy signifiers of which personal pronouns a person prefers.") What I'm trying to say is, a lot of other stuff when dealing with/trying to deconstruct gender stereotyping, ends up reinforcing it in a way. In order to illustrate why the stereotypes are wrong, they end up repeating the stereotypes a lot in order to argue against them. The Dragon Pearl, on the other hand, is genderless in a way that doesn't reinforce the gender binary. There are no gendered clothes. There are no gendered bathrooms. There are no gendered hairstyles or accessories. There are no gendered actions or emotions or stereotypes. There are no gendered bodies (the differences highlighted between Min and Jang-who-she's-shapeshifting-into are of build ie, height, center of gravity, not of private bits). No plot points revolve around the maleness of the person Min is impersonating; no plot points revolve around the femaleness of Min. And they/them? It's never explained why any person uses that pronoun. They just do so that's just how it is. I just think this is amazingly neat and I wanna applaud Lee for this finesse.

The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue, Mackenzi Lee I put this on my list because Queer and people were recommending it, but it was not well-advertized to me. I was expecting shallow teen romance, but dressed in historical clothes and unsubtly, unabashedly, unashamedly GAY. So I was expecting some gay. I was not expecting gay pining I actually enjoyed, I was not expecting call-outs for privilege of wealth and class and sex and color, I was not expecting the drama of the romance to not be stupidly fabricated misunderstandings but instead be driven by the need for character development and personal growth, I had forgotten I was expecting people of color, people with disabilities, badass women, I was not expecting a nuanced call-out of ableism ("I don't believe I need to be well to be happy", etc). I was not expecting a reversal of gender stereotypes that avoided saying "X gender is bad." Like, Monty is the team weakest link. Monty faints at the sight of blood. Monty is romantic and emotional and swoons at the slightest provocation. Monty uses his wiles to seduce people, that's the main skill he actually brings to the party. Monty cries. Aside from probably Monty's asshole dad who hates him for being gay, no one else nor the narrative calls these traits out as being Feminine (And Therefore Bad). Like, haha, We All Know These Are All Stereotypes Of Women At The Time, but no one says it. I find there's something really nice about no one saying it. Meanwhile, Percy and Felicity are competent and cool and I heart them. (What the hell, I heart Monty too. He really grows on you. He's so soft and in love and pathetic.) Anyway going back to the privilege thing, I love that Percy and Felicity and others constantly call Monty out on his privilege and refuse to coddle him over it. But they also care about him and they are very tender to him, not because of his privilege, but because he is a person who deserves basic person things, when he has his own issues. Your issues don't excuse your behavior, but yikes we deeply underestimated the sheer depth of your PTSD and we're gentler with you because of it. So try to stop being an ass. This book is just super wholesome and I can already tell this will be one of my new go-to's when I need a comfort book. Like Ancillary Justice etc.

The Gentleman's Guide to Getting Lucky, Mackenzi Lee This is not a fanfiction in the sense that is it written by the author and not a fan, but you need to understand, as part of me selling this to you as earnestly as I can, this is a fanfiction set after The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue which involves hijinks as Monty and Percy try and fail hilariously to have their first time having sex together, Felicity tries to wingman, there are miscommunications and nervous breakdowns and tender resolutions and it is absolutely a perfect indulgence. Because it was written by the actual author everyone is 100% in character and the narrative voice is spot-on. Kudos!

The Lady's Guide to Petticoats and Piracy, Mackenzi Lee Ace/aro Felicity???? ACE/ARO FELICITY!!! TBH I only vaguely remembered the descriptions for this one, ie "this time it's lesbians," and I was reading this going "there is a suspicious lack of lesbians but so much platonic vibes and also…..maybe…..maybe…????" and like I got both lesbians AND ace/aro Felicity????? Lee wrote this book? As a gift? For me???? I cannot believe I was blessed with "not like other girls"!Felicity as a vehicle for calling out the internalized misogyny inherent in the Not Like Other Girls mindset, and it is glorious. You can like pretty dresses and running around doing science, or you can hate dresses and only love science, or you can only like pretty dresses, or you can like whatever the heck you want in whatever combo, doesn't matter you're still a girl you're still valid and this shit isn't mutually exclusive. Much as I don't wear makeup (I've slowly learned to wear dresses again) in real life, gosh I love Johanna for being like "I love dresses and I love science and what if I was a badass adventurer but also got to be rescued a lot" because that was bitty me. Gimme a princess dress and a sword and a bow and arrows but also a tower to be rescued from and then various adventures. I want it both ways! And that's okay!! Also this is a critique I have apparently wanted since at least 3rd grade, see this proof from my daily journal prompts, I apologize for my lack of attention to spelling and forming letters: "Girls are what ever girls are. Girls like different things so I con't judge them all. Some girls like barbies. Just becaus you my not like barbies dosn't mean those girls aren't girls, it means they like more things that hove barbies. I like nintendo and I'm a girl." Apparently I was a Not Like Other Girls who thought Other Girls were still extremely valid. (that's kind of hilarious though because like, child, you had Barbies and didn't hate Barbies, you are just bad at playing with dolls and props. You're also bad at playing Nintendo.) Other stuff specifically, hm, it was refreshing to not have "I am skinny and perfect and clearly ugly" or even "I am legitimately ugly." Instead we have, "You do realize my torso is a solid rectangle, it laughs at this corset which I guess we are going to put on anyway, also my football player shoulders are going to literally pop the sleeves off that dress" and "I am built like a corgi dog, this is simply a fact of my proportions." Like, Felicity definitely has Issues with her traditional femininity and lack thereof, but I feel like it was never specifically tied to "my body shape is ugly." Also to go back to this book being written for me personally. You know they always say to write things that only you could write, that are self-indulgent, write what you want to see? It's really hard to do without a template to follow. Right before I picked up this book I realized that maybe The Thing Only I Would Write would be saying "a Skadi-and-Njord marriage is in fact a valid happy ending," but I've never seen that before and I don't know what it would look like even if I kind of understand the concept. All the media I consume, if not ending in romantic soulmates, is at least found family. If you are a loner, if you like being alone, your happy ending is to get a manic-pixie-dream-anything (girl, grandson, grandma, dog, whathaveyou) and integrate back into being social. There are no happy endings where a loner stays alone, where you get married but live separately and see each other very rarely because you love them but can't stand to live with them and you need to be alone to exist as you. And Mackenzi Lee just up and wrote it. It's valid to want to live in a house by yourself filled with bookshelves and have friends. It's valid for a girl to marry another girl who is a pirate and sails around most of the time and only comes to visit on occasion so you don't get sick of her and you keep loving her. This is an okay thing for an ace/aro to want, and it's valid to be happy with this. I can't even, y'all. I'm still marveling. I finally have seen a picture of the life I know would make me happy, and it's finally been acknowledged that I can be happy. (The amount of time I've spent, knowing I hate being social, and wondering--how many years down the line, when I'm living alone and content, will the switch suddenly flip? How many bridges will I have left behind when it turns out that I actually feel loneliness, and I'm miserable and unable to make friends and it turns out there are no manic pixie dream whatevers in real life and I fucked myself over forever because I was wrong and I should have been maintaining these social ties now and turning into someone I'm sure I'm not? What if people like me, who don't really get lonely without people, don't actually exist??) Anyway representation matters. Also Felicity being blindsided with Callum's proposal was, wow, okay I should have caught on to ace!Felicity then because that was so very accurate to my life experience minus people cutting fingers off. Look I was quoting stuff at the end to a friend and she was like "maybe that's why there's aces on the cover" and I am a very stupid ace okay. Felicity and Johanna's intense queerplatonic friendship that they keep trying to take up again in among the same sort of "you need character growth" drama that Monty needed re: Percy is also just, chef kiss, god I love this book. I need to buy this book. I haven't yet so what I did is I renewed all the books so I could immediately reread them after I finished them the first time.

#sobdasha booking

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