#im sorry im ranting but dear lord man

[poems-of-a-lover]

i will never understand the "stop casting straight actors as gay characters" argument. people just wanna out gay actors so they can have a better grasp on who to hate.

#like this is notttt the argument u think it is #'gay roles should be reserved for gay actors' TURN ON UR BRAIN #i understand wanting to have more queer actors and to have them get more recognition. that's completely fine and im all for that. #what im NOT for is trying to enforce that every gay character has to be played by a gay actor #like did u guys learn nothing from kit connor #or all of the other actors that were forcibly outed due to this argument. like seriously. #im sorry im ranting but dear lord man #i just saw a clip of a decently popular influencer saying shit like this and it makes me so upset. esp coming from a queer creator. #celebrities owe us nothing. absolutely fucking nothing. #they dont owe us that knowledge abt themselves and we should not feel like we're entitled to it just bc two men kissed on screen!! goodness #celebrities are people and they deserve their own privacy and to have their journeys on their own time just like everyone else #they dont even need to have a journey!!!! they don't have to do anything!!! they can just live their lives!!!!! #idk man this really gets under my skin #stop trying to force people to come out just so u can make sure the very little amount of queer media we get is 'genuine' or whatever #like u sound ignorant and bigoted dude cmon now #am i gonna get hate for this i swear #anyway rant done its 1:30 am im gonna go back to! writing! #long tags #rant

[yuukei-yikes]

hope you dont mind me asking this but since you seem very knowledgeable about the fandom and all i thought it was suitable

why is there so much ship content between sato kido and kano?? are they not adoptive siblings?? theres even some in semi canon (i think) contents like in anthologies too,, i mean not surprised it exists since weird people are in every fandom but its talked so casually here

with momo and hibiya too actually! because of the huge age gap you would think it wouldn't be such a casual ship but it somehow is?? as far as i seen anyways

oh man lollll nah i dont mind. fair question and it's much better to have an answer to this

im putting it under the cut bc it turned out kinda long and into a rant, and also to warn i mention the themes suggested in the ask (incest, age gaps)

basically it's no secret that in japanese media, incest and age gaps are widely normalized even today so just imagine in 2013 when kagepro was at its peak.

back then, kido and kano specifically were a WIDELY popular ship. here's the thing with the weird kano and kido (and seto too but mainly kano and kido) shipping, aside from what i said abt normalized incest and shit. kano and kido (and seto) being siblings is actually... sort of a spoiler? it's not revealed early on.

kano and kido are presented as 2 kids the same age living together and having different names. and they purposefully stop acting like siblings. SO it doesnt register until you get into their backstories. they're both adopted into the same family when theyre like... 7 or 8, and were friends before becoming siblings so people were able to use this excuse: "OHHH THEYRE MORE CHILDHOOD FRIENDS"

but like..... they live together as siblings for YEARS and to be honest im sure 99% of people watch the song mvs FIRST which u can binge in 1 afternoon and if ur watching with any sort of actual interest and attention, you WILL see kano and kido as part of the tateyama family in ayano's theory of happiness. not to mention the anime came out in 2014 which im also sure 99% of kagepro fans have seen. so to me that was always an excuse if it came from a very dedicated fan though i do understand it if it's from a casual enjoyer, like they truly didn't catch that they're siblings

when i joined the fandom i was 13, didnt know eng or japanese, and thought mekatrio childhood friends made total sense for some good 6 months into the fandom until I realised properly. a few months ago, i discovered a very close friend of mine had a kagepro phase in 2014 or something and told me he really shipped kano and kido and when i told him they're siblings he was like WHAT!!!!!!!

and another thing abt kano and kido. they're indubitably the queerest characters. THEY LOOK THE FUCKING GAYEST. there is Something abt pushing the gay characters together?? kido is constantly mistaked for a guy. kano the poor thing had ANOTHER popular ship going for him with ayano because people decided he is that way to shintaro because he actually had a crush on ayano. yeah. this was the fucking consensus with kano, shintaro and ayano. like i mentioned i DONT KNOW japanese and only ever read the translations of the novels and i also dont Know what jin was thinking when writing kano and shintaro. But. dear lord it reads fucking homosexual my dude. jin does this by accident a lot though. look at kido and momo. momo calling kido beautiful 1000 times but she's like Well as a woman i am jealous i wish i was that pretty. bruuuh ok anyways moving on Ill GET to jin again in a second.

like you said, semi official stuff like the anthologies are very heavy on this ship and also.... sorry, the manga which is an official media. is Heavily into this ship. for jin's stance on it, i am not sure. i do think he laughs it off but he NEVER intended to write them that way. in the seventh novel theres a whole bit where kido's telling kano you shouldve never hidden this from me im your sister we are family. even shintaro who is the pov ur reading from is like wow what a nice brother and sister AND THATS THE SECOND TO LAST NOVEL WHICH BY THEN THE SHIP WAS SUPER POPULAR SO TO ME THAT WAS JIN'S WAY OF REMINDING EVERYONE THEYRE SIBLINGS. personally i think jin truthfully intended to write kano and kido as siblings but doesnt care people ship them otherwise he wouldnt have had the manga written by someone who shipped them

so basically what happened. kagepro was confusing and people sometimes missed they are siblings. in japanese media its super normalized. it is 2013 so here it is also normalized in fandom spaces. fanart ensues, even official or semi official content teases it, and yeah. boom its popular

another big part of it was, EVERYONE GETS A PARTNER!!!! kagepro content has A LOT of Shipping Pieces if that makes sense. idk what to call it but like god, pixiv entries with 1 shinaya, 1 harutaka, 1 setomary.... and 1 hibiya and momo and 1 kano and kido. god awful. if any golden year kagepro fans follow me they will KNOW what im talking about.

now that i mentioned it. hibiya and momo. ough. idk man. people were properly weird with this one. because with kano and kido they at least made up a damn excuse. with hibiya and momo there was nothing. but the thing is, jin is entirely to blame here. absolutely fucking disgusting bro. unlike with kano and kido, with hibiya and momo he actively wrote it. in the third novel their chapters together or any of hibiya's chapters are actual fucking torture to read. i wont go into details if u havent read it but like there are Reasons i never recommend kagepro to people.

its good to give jin proper respect he IS the creator of my favorite characters ever in the whole wide world and the writer of the story that makes me the happiest ever in the history of life. but. that doesn't mean i dont hold him accountable for being weird as hell in his writing because he absolutely is

back in the early days of this blog i had my very own Gets Send Deaths Threats arc by some people who shipped these guys or people who were mad i criticized jin (i always suspected it was like. the same 1 or 2 people. with a lot of time in their hands) soooo honestly answering this activated my fight of flight a little bit but tbh i havent seen Any content here on tumblr (i do have everything blacklisted to hell and back) or gotten ANY rude messages here in years, so i think we're good👍

hope this was helpful and i hope ur not grossed out of kagepro though I'd understand. u kinda need a strong stomach not only for its themes but sadly kagepro does the gross anime thing animes do :(

#ask tag #kagexplain #feel free to ask me to tag this any specific way. i dont rly know how to tag it

[magnoliamyrrh]

sorry to be on this Again i wont rant abt it past this post and i know ive said it a lot

but im never getting over being in classrooms that are ~liberal leftist prison abolition whatever and hundreds of students being taught the writings of a man who wrote about the great tragedy of child rapists being given any sort of consequence and how we should consider uwu social responsability and whatever tf

i grew up hearing that shit so often like youve got no idea my father was in love with blaming all of his bullshit on his parents on his family on society on whatever the fuck. many of these people are obsessed with doing so.

.

i have been through so much shit. i honestly by their standards have every excuse to be an utter piece of shit depraved human being. all my personal trauma, my family, fucking society, the historical trauma of my people whatever the hell I have It All. and yet i have the basic fucking decency to understand that regardless i have a Personal Responsibility as an adult to handle my shit at least in regards to not being a piece of walking trash and harming other people

. im so fucking disgusting and mad dear Lord almighty

#one more class to finish and then IM OUT #so much of that university genuinely came to disgust me with time and that was probably the worst of it

[tweedstoat]

Ep 1: the Heirs of the Dragon

Likes:

LOVE the shot of the burnt insides of harrenhal

"That's almost large enough to saddle two" my god these bitches gay

Ser Harold's pearl clutching when he saw Daemon on the throne

Aemma seems so lovely and sensible 😔 girl we are gonna get you out of there and you can stop trying for kids. Her speech about mourning all the dead children she can and failing in her duty to provide an heir 💔💔💔

Lord Lyman saying "Dear me" to Daemons gross rant about Rhea Royce. He's been a real one from day 1. I know a young lord lyman would treat me right.

You can really see the difference in splendour and size between this tourney and the s1 GoT tourney.

Daemons armor looks great. Totally impractical but great.

The crowd booing Daemon for his unsportsmanlike conduct dhalaidjssjsk hes entering his Elon Musk era

Loved Rhaenyra and Alicents little bitchy gossip sesh

Bby Laena gripping Laenors arm when the knight is getting beaten up 💔

The increasing tourney violence juxtaposed with Aemmas increasingly gory birth....

Daemon does have a point. Viserys is weak and I'm kind of happy he pointed that out.

I like that they showed Rhaenys looking a bit (imo) conflicted when Rhaenyra was named heir and the lords swore their pledges. It must've hurt for her.

Dislikes:

Wish we'd seen more of the politicking at the great council :(. Especially the random lesser claimants like Saeras sons and the descendent of Daenys and Gaemon's second daughter who married a petty lord. Also can you imagine seeing Jaehaerys interacting with one of Saeras illegitimate sons? That may well have been what finally sent him off.

Daemon is annoying me. I didn't mind him in the books but this version is actively passing me off. Gotta say beginning his speech with insulting the city watch was funny tho. Having him say "our city should be safe for all its people" after he spent the night being judge jury and executioner was just audacious....so yeah textbook Daemon

Having the gold cloaks just be thugs terrorising the city like??? Why???? AGCAB tho (all gold cloaks are bastards)

WHY are they acting like absolute male preference primogeniture was firmly established by the great council? That happened after the dance my guys. Picking Rhaenyra over Daemon may have been kind of shaky because of the great council of 101 but it could be justified with andal law, or if daemon is so widely distrusted/disliked another great council.

MYSARIAS ACCENT IS ATROCIOUS

Fights to the death being allowed in jousting. It's supposed to be an exercise for wartime not an actual war smh

Im sorry but Caraxes looked like one of the Jurassic park dinosaurs in the scene where Daemon lets Mysaria touch him

Not a fan of the prophecy being used by Viserys but if the dance ends with the prophecy being lost I won't mind it so much

Can they stop having everyone and their mother repeat the lyanna stark promise me line like please

Costuming:

I liked all of Alicents dresses but only Rhaenyras red tourney dress and heir dress. The first yellow/gold Rhaenyra dress was awful.

Rhaenyras heir outfit was *chefs kiss*

I liked Mysarias white dress in the brothel.

Miscellaneous thoughts:

What do dragons smell like if they're that stinky that you smell like them after a ride???

my man Corlys is rolling over in his grave cause one of his descendants is now one of those very pirates beggaring the realm

Interesting having Viserys be cut (or claim to be cut) by the IT in the first ep when it's taken as a sign of being unfit to rule in the books...AND THEN IT CUTS HIM FOR REAL.

"Bad humours of the mind can affect the body" Ok Sygmynd Fraeud

Bro Viserys' dream sounds just straight up like wishful thinking not dragon dreams 😭😭😭

If I were Otto I'd hate Daemon too "don't let him provoke you" like fuck you Viserys he just insulted the man's recently deceased wife

"You are Daemon Targaryen. Rider of Caraxes, wielder of dark sister, sufferer of plot necessary erectile dysfunction"

VISERYS AND MELLOS YOU ARE GOING TO HELL FOR NOT TELLING AEMMA WHAT WAS GOING ON. STRAIGHT DOWNSTAIRS. I WILL DRAG YOU THERE MYSELF.

We deserve a spin off prequel where Daemon slowly works through every small council position and fails miserably while Otto tears out his hair

Otto you are going to hell along with Viserys. Imagine pimping your teenage daughter out to the king in one of her mothers dresses . Imagine not sending your teenage daughters best friend away when her father has placed her in this position. Viserys being this gross when he has a daughter Alicents age is atrocious.

Do they not have seperate rooms in Westerosi brothels?

The guy who paused mid-fuck to listen to Daemons heir for a day speech hdsldjwkajdjs

Daemon trying to play off the heir for a day speech as GRIEVING IN HIS OWN WAY my god

Is it just me or do all the candles around the dragons kind of imply the Targaryens worship them? I like that idea I'm keeping it.

Overall thoughts:

They should have trigger warnings on these episodes for pregnant people cause jesus christ

Viserys really loves threatening to cut people's tongues out eh?

#and now my HOTD watch begins

[obeymeaskme]

Do you guys want to see the brothers in goth wear? And I can't see asmo as anything but Pastel goth (anyone says pastel goth isn't goth is not allowed to interact. If I want death to wear neon colors, I'll be dressing that bastard up like a mom dresses a tantrum throwing child. Try. Me. Also I got my info off a DeviantArt account and 😬 it's super judgemental and what normies define as "cringe" early 2000's info? Yeah seems about right...)

So this is what I was thinking:

Lucifer- Vampire Goth

Mammon- Cyber Goth (I just learned this subgroup is the most disliked amongst goths 😂 Are goths really that touchie? And was goth always music related wtf?)/ Glam goth since he's literally a model.

Levi- I'm stuck between a Punk style goth, and "J-goth" (dear lord the opinion based info where I got these subcategories for goths is painful to read- then I see they all uploaded in, and before 2015 *cries*)

Satan- Romantic Goth, or Corp Goth. He's a fancy boy with places to be. (Also since it's goth there's no way he can dress horribly! Unless- 👀)

Asmo- Pastel goth, or Haute Goth? (Omfg if I read one more "It's terrible that most goths think this is an okay thing!" I'm going to swallow rocks)

Beel- casual goth/medieval Goth

Belphie- dark Mori/Emo (yes it's a goth subculture)/TradGoth

The slashes for each guy show the potential and or mix of subcategories.

Also- Gothabilly, Steam Punk, Vampire and victorian gothic are my favorite subcategories!

Dark Mori just looks wicked comfortable and soft 😩. (Heh, wicked... This genre seems to be used by witches and pagans. I just love the hats...)

Big ol rant on goth culture (more specifically what this single person thinks and how the world seems to view it, according to said person) below the cut!

My least favorites are probably what this person defined as "mopey" goths which is the MAJOR stereotype most people think of when they think goth (annoyingly) and I don't even think I've met or seen one outside of old movies 😳 the other is "Baby bat" where it's more about the shock factor but it makes sense since it's usually teens. Was not a fan of the description of older goths disliking them for not being alive in the 80's or not having enough money to *wheeze* afford better clothing I just- *wheeze*

I love the gothic style and I'm part of a few of the subcategories but *laughs* Let me be a bit "ageist" here by saying/asking about how hateful older goths seem to be. I'm not giving the link to this person's account because it's just so- judgemental. Are goths that judgemental? I hardly think so... Geez- I originally thought goths were just rebellious and into the dark and morbid, but this person makes them sound like... A bratty and whiney cult 😂 I understand some of the things said but dear lord it's obvious this was an early 2000's mindset and, ew-

Just saying, it's the funniest thing to be a Christian and to be Goth because, YIKES I've never met one goth who wasn't the nicest person on earth. Even if they were into satanism they'd be like "here have a cookie!" And I'd be like "we're friends tell me your secrets and I'll tell you mine!" And even with my hyperactive and childish nature they thought it was funny or cute 😂 then again we only had like, two true goths in highschool so- idek.

Ahhhh- the fact I'm technically classified as a baby bat because I don't have that much money hurts- oh wait Walmart exists so I guess I'm more of a casual goth? I'm going for Lolita or some kind of moe style once I lose weight, but I really love the classier style of goth 😩 sleek long skirts and V neck long sleeves plz (gotta love goodwill), BUT IM ALSO WAY TO POSITIVE AND LIVELY TO FIT INTO HALF OF THESE!

Like, people are going to see me and go "😰" and then they'll talk to me and go "🧐".

Am I allowed to be semi-preppy and dress in vampire or military goth 😩 I'm sorry that my depression makes the "goth mindset" a big no-no for my lil brain uwu. (Hahaha! I'm not MAD, what are you talking about!)

I guess I'll just suffer? What if I don't like all the sensual and overly morbid music? What if I just love the style(s)? I live in a town (were classified as a city but it's really rural) where goths are non existent. We have more casual punks and teens if anything.

Oh but I saw this REALLY cute guy at a yard sale. Boy was dressed in all black and had the most GORGEOUS bird nose~ (technically a Roman but bird is cuter) and a short ponytail, but he was so 😩 I've never crushed on a stranger so quickly (and got over just as quick) in my life. I regret not saying hello, but I'm not good with social interactions. Also, a man dressed THAT good has to have someone in his life. Mmm- so yeah- it's early morning and my brain is mushy and useless!

The guy was like... Mafia meets Ikea sales man *laughs*

#obey me one master to rule them all #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me belphie #obey me mammon #obey me Lucifer #obey me Beelzebub #obey me Belphegor #obey me Asmodeus #Mmm goth culture just got way more complicated for me than it really should be #how do i absolutely love the kin*y goth style even though im not s*xual? #dark mori is just the style of a forest friend

[jrctolkien]

don't blame me for falling iv

read part one, two and three first!!

pairing: tom holland x reader

he comes back after years and years and the press are just eating it up and you're falling too hard, too fast

an; this is the last full part, but I'm p sure that I'm going to write an epilogue to tie up all the ends as I cut this off at a pretty blunt point 🥺 I'd also like to apologise in the delay of uploading and I'm really sorry it took so long!! more at the bottom :))

the crisp autumn air was a welcome change to the stiflingly hot summer days that had cling to you with warm, clammy hugs a mere few weeks ago. the leaves were turning oranges and yellows and browns and the ones you walked past on your way to work swayed in the breeze, a few feet above your head.

the tension that you weren't ready to admit to was like a third person between you and tom, the kind that popped up all the time and was just so annoyingly constant. his work was keeping him busy and, in turn, it was keeping you busy, bustling around and making calls, filling out paperwork and overseeing every little detail there could possibly be.

you and tom were scheduled to take a short trip back to your home, where there were dirt roads and bad chinese and memories filling every crack in the pavement and being posted like signs up in every shop you could think of.  the only reason you were back was for the big rosh hashanah feast your mum was hosting, and your entire family was going, bar your sister. it had been a long time since you felt at home, since you felt safe and warm and cozy and so very not in london and your excitement was buzzing beneath your skin like a swarm of friendly bees.

rosh hashanah had been a major part in your childhood, and tom's and stacey's and harrison's. the warm autumn days spent with your friends when you were little, guiding them through practices you didn't know how to do and running around the back garden while the adults had their own time inside and the overall innocence of it was something you yearned for, and you heart bubbled with it in the dark of the night, when god was asleep too and when your soul ached for things and people you could never have back. your childhood seemed otherworldly, in your big adult body as you laid in your bed without hearing someone snoring over in the next room or listening to a sister bumping around in the dark in the toilet, the concept of the joy you had so foreign.

tom. he was always by your side, and you were glad that he was pressed up against you in the bustling bus station. "why can't we just drive?" he grumbled, frown on his face as a woman sneezed too close to him, his nose wrinkling in disgust.

"because you never offered." you snapped. "and I cant so. suck it."

"bitch."

"I'll tell mum not to make a bloody trifle if you keep going on like this" you pursed your lips, but could feel the playfulness dancing in your eyes, and laughed when tom shook his head furiously.

the train station was loud but so were your smiles, and the warmth they held told of love that was old and new, strong and weak but that would hold a thousand lifetimes, in whatever way it needed to. your hearts were destined for each other, and the world seemed to know about it before you caught up, brain sharp and heart guarded and with a man that had broken it a few too many times, but who was trying as hard as he could to fix it again.

-

your mother was a loud, joyful woman, all round edges and warm hugs that smelled of flower, and full, rosy cheeks. your father was a hard man with a soft, squidgy center that was easily gooped out after a glass of wine. he was stern, and the roughness of his jumpers and his voice was something you became accustomed to as you grew up.

"my dear child!" your mother smelled of flour and her hair was frizzy and wild as she clutched your face inbetween her hands, planting kisses all over your skin. "why you keep leaving, huh?"

you groaned at her, not pulling away and leaning into her soft hands. the months away from home had been a harsh change and you were thankful for the warmth and familiarity that your home held, with its creaky floorboards and roaring fireplaces and the people and memories it had. over your mother's shoulders you could see your sister esther, her ginger head poking out the window with a wave. your soul was swarming with a hundred happy bees, buzzing with happiness.

"ok mama," you sighed, taking her hands from your face and holding them with a smile, "that's enough."

"alright, alright." she relented. "oh, the cold! bloody hell, did you come by train? how was it, did it smell?"

"no." you denied, tom saying "yes" at the same time. you shot him a glare as your mother started to ramble about london hygiene, heading back inside.

"god, I've missed this." tom said wistfully, quietly, staring at you as if you had all the time in the world. his brown eyes were warm and full of emotion, and you nodded, thinking of an entirely different thing, of fast love held long ago and passionate, soft spoken love that hid under the surface now, unspoken but still there.

"yeah." and your voice floated in the air between you and around you, along with everything you were feeling.

your mother cleared her throat from the doorway, and you could see your grandad hovering behind her in a checked shirt and his good blue jumper, your dad next to him. nothing had changed. the wallpaper was the same, the carpets were the same, the stains on every bloody surface were the same. you could see your yellow wellies underneath the kitchen window and smiled, soul happy. it felt like a decade since you'd been back home.

"don't rush her." your sister rebecca said, her hands pressed together.

"she's hardly flipping mo farah, is she?" your dad said. "if she goes any slower she'll start moonwalking."

"the moon landings are fake, honey." your mother said absently, hand waving.

and then esther was there, dragging you up the steps with a humph. "you're turning us into a ruddy freakshow, yn, hurry up."

esther glares at the neighbours peeking around their curtains, her eyebrows raised as if to say really?. "bunch of bloody cunts. anyway, hurry up, you too tom, I promised ben he'd get to smell the city on you. god, you've lost a lot of weight, your boobs must feel like two tangerines in a sock."

rebecca hugged you briefly, saying, "sorry, we redecorated your room while you were away. sure you won't mind a bit of megatron on your walls, benny loves him."

"I had worms in my bottom." ben piped up, trying to stick his fist in his mouth. "mum says im not to talk about it outside the house. or shove my fingers up my-"

"ben!" esther snapped covering his mouth. she'd had him during college, and had had her future plans foiled, and was now a single mother, still living at home. "good lord."

"don't the lord's name in vain!" your mother snapped from the kitchen.

your dad rolled his eyes, clapping tom on the shoulder, "I think she can take the lord's name down to butlins in a flipping wheelbarrow if we have to fast for him."

"allan!" your mum shrieked and you laugh, leaning into tom.

"welcome home, love." he sighed, a grin on his face as your mum starts off into a rant about religion.

-

  "benny, don't touch that!" esther scolded, pulling her son's arm away from the candle he was trying to eat. "mama has to bless us with it."

"aye, the power of the lord is going to cast out of her into our souls and fuc-"

"allan!" your mother walked behind him with a lighter in one hand and wooden spoon in the other, rapping him upside the head with it. "the lord will be inside me."

"I thought dad was the one married to you, mum?" you quipped, the grin on your face disappearing as she glared at you. you could hear tom hiding his laugh with coughs from beside you and you kicked his ankle under the table.

"ok, ok, that's enough," your dad giggled, waving a hand for your mum to sit down. she did so, reaching for esther and your dad's hands.

tom's hand was warm in yours and you squeezed it when your mother started the blessing. it was an uncommon thing, for your family to practice religion too much. you had grown up in a relaxed household, only praying during holidays and in times of need. nevertheless, your mother wouldn't let a single word against the lord be said in her small house, faithful to him at all times.

"are we done?" your dad's voice broke a moment of silence and your mother sighed, closing her eyes.

"allan, im blessing you. I still have to light the candles."

"oh, sod it, love." your dad said. "im sure god can light a candle for us, wherever he is."

"god is watching us right now!" your mother slapped your dad's straying hand, reaching forward to light the nine candles in the centre of the table.

"a moment of silence for frankie." you said, and your dad nodded, bowing his head. his candle was flickering with light in the middle of the table, and you spied your dad caressing your mother's hand when she let out a sniffle. you longed to have a love like theirs one day, together through thick and thin and fitting together in a way that ended in hilarious jokes and tender forehead kissed while tucked away in the kitchen. to have someone hold your hand always.

a hand nudged yours, and you turned to tom with a sigh. he was smiling a forlorn smile as he curled his fingers around yours, the warmth traveling through your body. it had been a long, tiring day, and you were more than happy to curl up on the sofa in front of the fire after the meal, it's heat never holding a candle to that which tom gave you.

"alright, eat." your mum finally said, and tom ripped his eyes away from yours to grab the roast potatoes before esther could, remembering how she always nicked them out from under everyone's noses. the meal passed with laughter and the odd shouting, ben trying to shove a brussel sprout up his nose disrupting it all.

-

  the next few days passed in a blurred bliss, like the few warm days after christmas. the house was warm and cozy, with joy seeping out the wallpapers and the floorboards into everyone's skin.

the day yom kippur came, your dad was a grumbly mess, having eaten all the yule log the day before to 'stock up his starch store' so he could 'be a plant' and promptly being shouted at by your mother.

"that was for later, you fat pig!" she had shrieked and you'd heard it from upstairs.

"bloody hell." tom chuckled from where he was sat curled up beside you, squashed in your tiny bed. you would never admit it, but the last few days had been heaven on earth because of him, and the way he made you happy, warm. you felt young again, like your soul was running through the fields all day and coming back home to your mother's warm hugs and your father's jokes.

"wait, no, we have to listen." you said through a giggle, sliding out of your bed and tiptoeing out to the landing, where esther was stood leaning over the banister already. you snorted, bumping her up with your hip, "dang, what you doing out here with all this ass?"

esther rolled her eyes, stepping on your toes as your mother started up again. "religion, allan!" she shouted and you wheezed. "it is the most important thing in this marriage-"

"what about our relationship?" your dad's voice was warbly, like he was trying not to laugh. you could imagine his red neck and creased cheeks, the way his foot would turn inwards before he started laughing.

"god-" your mother began, her voice equally high pitched and warbly, "-comes first, always. as does the cake you ate last night. how are we ever going to get a cake that good again?"

your dad's voice echoed up the large staircase as he said, "I mean, wait a bit love, and you could probably scoop it out the other end."

"allan!" your mother squealed and you had to press your face into tom's cardigan to stop yourself from being too loud. your mother burst into a tangent again, your dad sneaking off when she disappeared back into the kitchen, muttering.

his balding head poked up at you from the stairs, a grin on his face. "wahey, am I right?"

"waheyy!" the three of you replied, you sticking your thumb up at him.

-

  you hated yom kippur, you really did. the hungerness in your body seemed to follow you like a black cloud, making you scowl. esther never left her room during the day of fasting, and your father drank protein drinks -'you have to stay hydrated, could kill, you know?'- whilst your mother forced rebecca to supervise her whilst she was cooking at the end of it all, so as not to give in to the temptation.

you were squashed into the small twin bed your room could hold, tom pressed up against you as you watched downton abbey, not bothering to skip the parts in the kitchen. "elizabethan food is dutty." you had said when you propsed the idea.

"thought it was victorian."

"no, they had the same queen as us."

despite the stupidness the lack of food seemed to give the two of you, you were intent on finishing the fifth season before the sun set, bringing with it the rainbow and all the colours you cared about, but also the promise of food.

"it's so pretty." you sighed when the sun began to dip below the hills rolling around your town, all the houses situated in the little dip in the centre. most of the houses  had kitchens on the second floor as well, for when the sandbags got pulled out the garages and the doors got reinforced and the downstairs began to smell a little bit of dampness, of the showers in the summer camp you used to be forced to every year.

"you're a pretty munch."  tom said, patting your leg with his hand. his words were cheap, and his hand was careless but his eyes were loving, and showed all you needed to see.

"what are we doing?" you muttered, eyes trailing over his face to the features you had known for so long, that had become ingrained in your memory.

tom inched his head closer to yours, "dancing."

"we're not too good at it."

"we can teach each other." tom said softly. "until we're old, and grey, and I have to help you climb up the stairs."

his voice was strained and it took a few seconds to pick up on the want in it, the way he pleaded like a dead man come back, the way his eyebrows were furrowed in anticipation. in fear.

"don't lie to yourself, holland," you smirked, eyes fluttering close as you lips touched his. it was soft, but with the hunger and heat of a starved bull, and perhaps you were in love and maybe it had taken too long. his lips moved against yours in a dance your own knew so well, slotting together in every way they knew how. you were connected by your hands, his on your hip and elbow, yours on the broadness of his arm, the other holding you up.

you separated with a sweet, welcome ease, lovesick smiles a couple on your lips. "don’t lie to yourself, holland," you repeated, "I'd help you up the stairs."

"bungalows are pretty cool." he whispered, grinning.

"holy shit." ben's small voice came from the door and you groaned before snapping your head to him.

"benjamin! where'd you learn that language?"

"aunty annie." he replied, words coming out of the gaps in his teeth. your sister, anne, had disappeared to the next country over, or perhaps the next, you had no clue anymore, sending photos of anything and everything to the family groupchat. the other day she had sent a photo of a candle, the caption 'ughhh uwu hashem' tainting your brain for god knows how long.

"of course she did." you smiled a harsh smile that made your lips purse.

"am I going to get a cousin?"

"no, sweetie, now go to mummy and shut the door please."

ben smiled another toothless grin, a hand that was sure to be sticky waving in the air as he pulled the door shut behind him.

"well," you laughed, turning your head to tom, "how about we do that ag-"

the door slammed open to a head of ginger hair and you saw esther for the first time that day, hair a mess atop her head and legs bare sans an entirely too small pair of undies. the hello kitties on it were a faded link and you would've laughed if you didn't want to kiss someone so badly.

"y'all fucking?" she asked after a stunned silence. her eyes were wide and crazed, and the edges of her lips were pulling up.

"get out!" you shouted after a second, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at her. "don't tell mama!"

and the moment was ruined, but it wasn't. the arm snaked around you seemed so belonging all of a sudden and the wheezy breaths that told of an upcoming cold didn't annoy you anymore and the rhythmic bouncing of his socked foot against your leg was suddenly endearing and you felt whole again, completely and utterly whole, for the first time in years. your hearts were finally bonded and you souls were finally dancing their dance in their own way, clumsy and uncoordinated but knowing where the other was going to step and melding into each other's bodies. whole was a nice feeling to have, however late it arrived

fin

an; rosh hashana is one of the best jewish holidays, its new years! it's followed by a horrible day of fasting, yom kippur. I've based the readers religious practises on my childhood ones, as I had a very religiously relaxed household, and the family aspect of the holidays came above the religious ones. also, reader's mother's view on religion is used as a comedic value and wasn't meant to be offensive at all.

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland fic #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland fanfiction #mine #masterlist #dbmff

[purplerosesbloodythorns]

I Would Never Ask You To

A/N:

This is a story that I half wrote about 8 months ago, and despite having the whole story in my head I never finished it. So this is just a warning that read knowing this likely won’t ever be completed. Also, it’s not good but it’s what I got in this head of mine soooooo...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry followed the Slytherin as he had been doing for quite some time. He kept the Invisibility Cloak that once belonged to his father wrapped tightly around him, his steps quiet. Malfoy’s back was stiff as he walked, his body tense and thin. He ducked into Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, and Harry rushed in before the door closed so he wouldn’t be detected. He watched as Malfoy splashed his face with water, his sleeves pulled up. Malfoy looked like shit, and it ate at Harry’s insides. Draco was pale, more so than usual. His cheeks were hollow and the dark circles under his eyes contrasted with the almost white hair that had been knocked loose and was falling on his forehead. Harry glanced down at Draco’s rolled sleeves and inched closer, hoping he was wrong. He wanted to be wrong so badly. His eyes shot to Malfoy’s left arm, and he felt like lead had dropped in his stomach.

The mark was stark against the cream skin, and it looked like the snake curled around the skull was slithering beneath Draco’s flesh. Draco watched the snake move with disgust, a sob shook his body as he breathed heavily. Draco scratched at it until it was red and swollen, as if the Mark was an itch that couldn’t quite be scratched. Harry figured it probably wasn’t comfortable, and the look on Draco’s face confirmed what Harry already suspected. Draco had never wanted it. Finally, out of frustration, Draco dug a clean nail straight through it, blood pouring from the thin cur he left. He let out a pained sound as the skin automatically healed itself, the mark preserved perfectly. He immediately went to do it again, and Harry forgot everything he was meant to be doing. He reached out and gripped Malfoy’s hand, stopping it from torturing the marked skin any longer. Malfoy gasped, jerking his arm away and pulling his wand, pointing it in Harry’s general direction. Harry muttered a curse at his own stupidity, and dropped the cloak from his shoulders.

The silence was deafening, and Draco quickly pulled down his sleeves. Harry watched the mark go and breathed deeply. Draco never dropped his wand, and Harry never pulled his.

“They wouldn’t believe me,” Harry murmured, staring at Draco’s sleeve right where the mark was ingrained, “all said I was crazy, that you weren’t a Death Eater.”

Draco breathed heavily, anxiously waiting for Harry’s attack. Dreading the moment he had to attack back. Harry tore his eyes from the sleeve of Malfoy’s robes, and looked up into the tired face of his rival.

“I wanted them to be right,” Harry whispered like it was his greatest confession, and Draco squirmed under his gaze, feeling like a scolded child. He wanted to protest, argue that he wasn’t one of them. That he didn’t want this, but the mark was a dull pain underneath his skin, constantly reminding him of what he was.

“Sorry to disappoint you, oh Chosen One.” Malfoy snapped as haughtily as he could, not meeting Potter’s eyes. Because he was sorry, so sorry.

“It doesn’t have to define you, you know.” Harry whispered, his body wired tight like a string. “You don’t have to, Malfoy.”

Draco scoffed, “Have to do what, exactly, Potter?” And Draco’s skin crawled, because Potter couldn’t know what he had been tasked. There was no way. He flushed with shame just thinking about it, but the fear of the Dark Lord quickly overcame that shame, leaving him with determination.

Harry shrugged awkwardly, “Whatever you’ve been sneaking around planning, I reckon, or anything you don’t want to, really. You never have to do anything you don’t want to.”

And Draco could almost believe it, the way Harry said it. Determined and steadfast, and Draco knew then exactly why people would follow Harry Potter into battle. He believed in you, and it made you believe in yourself. But Draco was anything but a fool, and Potter could believe whatever he wanted. Draco was going to make it out of this war alive, and if taking the Dark Mark and killing Albus Dumbledore was what it took, then so be it. He wouldn’t allow his mother to bury her only son, and he would not let his father down. When he looked at Harry’s green eyes, open and earnest, a part of him wished he wasn’t a coward. But he was, and what do cowards do? They run. They run, and they lie, and they crush every ounce of hope to be had.

Draco laughed coldly, “If you knew what I wanted, Potter, you would be nowhere near me right now. You’d be hidden behind the old man that holds you so dear, Because I want to See you dead. You and all your little friends, and frankly if I can do anything in assisting the Dark Lord In getting your head put on a stake then I will.”

He glanced at Potter one last time, taking in the stricken look before he turned on his heels and strode into the wide foyer, steps leading him back to the dungeons. His face crumbled with each step, remembering the hurt on Potters face as he left.

“Malfoy!” Potter called, quick footsteps approaching as Draco walked on. Draco resolutely ignored him, not granting him attention. “Malfoy stop!”

Potter’s footsteps came to an abrupt stop, and Draco could hear his labored breathing. Draco kept walking, but he heard one last plea that made him stop in his tracks, the breath knocked out of him with two words.

“Draco, please.” It was said with such solidarity, and Harry wasn’t following him anymore. He was asking, allowing Draco to make the choice on whether or not he acknowledged him. Draco couldn’t remember the last time someone let him have a choice in anything.

Draco didn’t turn to face him, but he did stop. He dropped his head, and listened to Harry’s breathing down the corridor. After a moment, once Harry realized he had no intention of running, Steps echoed on the cobble floors. Potter stopped a few feet away from him, as if he was a dog that would bite.

“I don’t believe you,” Harry whispered, “I don’t believe you want me dead.”

Draco huffed out a breath, almost a dull chuckle, “And what does that change, Potter? What I want or don’t want?”

“Not much when it comes to my death, but a lot when it comes to my life.” Draco’s head tilted in interest,

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

Potter took a deep breath, “I’m probably going to die,” He said it monotonously, as if it was a fact. Draco shuddered, even though he knew it to be true, hearing it from the Golden Boy himself shot an icicle through his heart, “I’ve accepted it, you know? Im not as scared of it as I used to be. I’m kind of reckless, really.” Draco snorted, because boy was that an understatement, and he could feel the glare Potter shot him.

Draco felt a hand on his shoulder and Harry turned Draco’s body to look at him,

“And I’ve always went after what I want. I’ve thrown myself into dangerous situations to get what I want. And I’ve fought for everything that I want. Except you. I’ve never fought for you. I don’t think I realized exactly what I’d be fighting for.”

Draco sucked in a breath, looking at Potter’s determined expression, his jaw set as he looked over Draco’s face. His green eyes were open and raw, and absolutely terrifying. Draco took a moment to collect himself, “What in hell are you going on about Potter?”

He went to take a step back, but bony fingers on his shoulder kept him in place. “I should have fought for you a long time ago, before you had that mark on your arm, and before I was a walking target. But I didn’t, and you are a Death Eater, and I’m destined to die. And that should really make a difference to me. I’m cut and dry. What’s good is good and bad is bad and that’s the way I see things. The way I see everything. Except you. It should be black and white, and you’re the evil and I’m the good because that’s how it’s always been. Its how I’ve kept myself sane.”

Potter sucked in a breath after that long rant, and Draco’s pulse sped with every moment of silence.

“But... I’m going to die. And all I can think about is how I don’t want to die without knowing what your lips taste like.”

He felt a calloused hand touch his cheek, rough where scars marred the skin. Draco closed his eyes, his breath shallow, “It’s up to you, Draco.” Harry whispered, and he sounded so earnest. Draco couldn’t miss the plead in his voice though, Potter wanted him. Potter just wasn’t capable of acting that well, Draco knew for a fact.

A needy sound escaped his own lips, half a sob, because Potter was doing it again. Letting Draco decide. “Why?” He finally asked, his voice broken.

Potter pushed Draco’s hair out of his face, “Maybe because you’re the one thing I can never have?” He said it like a question, like he wasn’t sure himself. “Or maybe I just don’t believe you’re what you pretend to be. Maybe I believe you’re more, much more.”

Draco laughed wetly, “You are so full of shit Potter, and you are so so wrong.”

Harry shrugged, but stepped directly in front of Draco, chest to chest, “Maybe so, but either way, It’s up to you.”

Draco let out a choked sound, and he jerked Harry forward before he could change his mind. Their lips collided roughly, and the sound Harry let out was desperate. Draco was on fire and not just from the passion of the kiss. As their lips moved, the mark on his arm felt like it was burning from the inside out. Like Potter set it on edge. Draco couldn’t bring himself to care, even as the pain seared through his nerve endings. He bit at Potter’s lips, and enjoyed the slide of Harry’s tongue again his own. Harry’s hands slid back into the blonde hair that was still gelled back, tugging at the knots it made. Draco clung to Harry’s back, his fists gripping at the robes. Harry pulled at his hair and latched his mouth to the underside of Draco’s jaw, holding Draco’s arms against the stone, his hand landed directly on top of the mark. Draco let out a pained cry as the skin burned so hot it was impossible to ignore and he jumped away from Harry like he’d been shot. He jerked his sleeve up, and the mark was red, irritated, and swollen.

Harry looked terrified and ashamed, a blush on his cheeks. “I-I’m sorry, Malfoy. I didn’t, I didn’t know it would.. “ Draco held up a hand, silencing Harry. He watched expectedly, expecting the mark to heal itself, but it didn’t. The pain lingered, and the whelps stayed. The snake had opened its mouth and arched into a striking pose, angry. The mark appeared to be trying to get as far away from Draco’s skin as possible, away from Harry.

Draco glanced up at the flushed boy in front of him, a rare fondness in his chest when he saw the distressed and worried look on Harry’s face.

He leaned and grabbed Harry by the shoulders, pulling him back in. He bit and sucked at Harry’s lips roughly, and the brunette moaned heatedly. Draco pulled back before things went too far, well farther than they already have. He honestly was unsure what continuing to touch Harry would do the mark, and how long the effects would last. If he were to return home with the mark truly defaced, he would have hell to pay.

Harry looked down at the mark, ran his finger over it causing Draco to hiss in pain as the snake reared its head and strikes at Harry’s finger. He glanced back up at the steel grey eyes watching him curiously, “I’m going to win this, Malfoy.”

Draco’s eyebrows shot up, and he looked down at the angry red Mark on his skin, and for a moment he believed it. If Harry Potter could damage the Dark Mark with nothing but a touch, a warm welcoming touch, Draco could only imagine the damage he could do when he wanted to. But then Draco thought of red irises, and slit nostrils, and terror poured through his veins. For once, the terror wasn’t for himself but for the boy in front of him.

“I believe you’ll try,” Draco whispered, and it was all he could offer. “And if it’s worth anything, I hope you do. I hope you win.”

Harry smiled softly, “Have something to fight for now, don’t I?” He quickly turned on his heels, heading in the direction of the staircase that would lead him to the Gryffindor tower, slipping the invisibility cloak back over his shoulders.

“Oh and Potter,” Draco called, and he could hear Harry’s footsteps stop to listen, “Don’t expect me to put my neck on the line for you.”

Harry continued walking, a smile on his face, “Would never ask you to, Malfoy.”

———————————————————

As Harry watched Dumbledore fall from the Astronomy Tower, a deep anguish filled his chest. As he glanced at Snape, anger filled his head. As he stared at Draco Malfoy, relief filled his heart.

He watched Draco’s face crumble, a distraught cry escaping his lips as the headmasters lifeless body fell. Harry could feel guilt boiling in his core. How could he feel relief after someone who he loved, and loved him in return, had just been murdered before his very eyes? He knew the answer.

He was relieved because It had not been Draco’s wand that cast the killing curse. Harry wasn’t sure if Draco would have been able to complete the task given to him, and the task, no matter how horrible, was the key to Draco’s survival. The task was completed, and although the youngest Malfoy had played a giant part, it was not at his own hand that Albus Dumbledore died. That didn’t make Draco innocent, but it didn’t damn him either. At the end of this war, Draco could still redeem himself. For that, Harry was thankful.

Tears poured from his own eyes as he thought of the headmaster that had done so much for the wizarding world, and he watched as Snape put a hand on Draco’s shoulder. A part of him wanted to be the one to comfort Draco, for Draco to comfort him in return.

He couldn’t make himself be angry with Malfoy, although he knew he should be. Draco had played with fire, and as usual it was Harry that got burned. Despite that, the only resentment Harry could find was toward Snape. Even through the anger and resentment, Harry couldn’t place the blame on Snape either. He was a good for nothing parasite, a spy, but as Harry thought about what he had overheard about Snape taking the Unbreakable Vow to protect Draco, he had a realization that terrified him to the core. He would have never needed the Vow to kill Albus Dumbledore if it meant keeping Draco Malfoy alive.

He stared at Draco’s face, watching as the blonde tried to pull himself together, listening closely to whatever Snape was whispering in his ear. In that moment, he knew his thought to be true.

If it had came between Dumbledore and Malfoy, there would have been no question as to who would be at the wrong end of Harry’s wand. He loved Dumbledore, but a world without Draco Malfoy was one Harry couldn’t fathom.

He would do anything to protect Malfoy, and that was a dangerous, dangerous loyalty. As he watched the group of Death Eaters flee, Draco along with them, Harry realized he was in far too deep.

———————————————————

Over the course of his 7th year, as Hogwarts became a mere shadow of what it once was, Draco Malfoy found himself in his dorm with a radio in his lap listening to the rantings of Lee Jordan and the Potterwatch team. He always made sure no one would disturb him on those nights, as having the Dark Mark on his arm could be a strong persuasion to be obeyed. The fact that Draco hated being feared for the mark was trivial when it got him what he wanted. Listening to Potterwatch was still dangerous, Draco knew. He took extra precaution by casting a Silencing Charm.

He learned a lot from Potterwatch, although very little about what he actually wanted to know. All of the information that was spouted through the radio was important for the Dark Lord’s resisters side, but held very little meaning to Draco in his position. Still, he acknowledged that under no circumstance could any of the Dark Lord’s followers find out about the radio show, or all would be lost for the Order. Frankly, Draco didn’t care much about the Order or the people involved, but they mattered to Potter, and Potter couldn’t make it out alive without them. It wasn’t likely he could survive even with them.

After all, Harry bloody Potter was the only reason Draco was listening to this god awful show to begin with. It was pointless it seemed, because even those in the inner circle of the Order didn’t know where Potter was. There was speculations, of course, but it was everyone’s best guess. Some of the Death Eaters, and The Dark Lord himself, were believing that Potter had went into hiding, that he was a coward. Draco didn’t believe that for a moment, of all the things Draco knew about Harry Potter (and he knew a lot, mind you), it was that he was always up to something. Draco knew this disappearance was no different. Knowing this didn’t calm his worried mind. His only comfort was knowing that if Harry was dead The Dark Lord would know. He would know, and he wouldn’t shut up about it. So Harry wasn’t dead, and Draco figured that would have to be enough to settle his mind.

Draco wasn’t sure why he even cared at this point, by now everyone knew that Draco had played a part in Dumbledores death, and he knew that Harry hated him. He wanted to pretend that the thought of Harry knowing that His original belief in Draco being more than a lowly Death Eater was wrong didn’t break him, but it did. Potter hating him, true hatred, not just a petty rivalry was a consequence of being a good for nothing coward, Draco knew. I’m didn’t make it hurt any less.

Despite knowing that Harry probably though of him as scum beneath his shoe, it didn’t stop Draco from praying to the gods that Harry was okay. He needed Harry to be okay. As he sat week after week listening to the static filled radio, Draco’s desperation was strangling him slowly. He just needed a sign.

———————————————————

The sign he so desperately asked for came during Easter break, but not in the form he wanted. No, he never wanted this. It came in the form of prisoners, and a mutilated, puffy faced teenager in the drawing room.

“They say they’ve got Potter,” he heard his mother say, and his heart dropped to his stomach. A mantra of ‘no,no, no please no’ echoed in his head, dread rising in his chest the same way bile was rising in his throat. “Draco, come here.”

Draco felt like a puppet on a string, no real control over his body as it rose from the chair he was in, and he fought to keep his face completely neutral as his eyes immediately found the bloated red face of Harry Potter. Draco didn’t even need to look at the other prisoners to know it would be the remainders of the Golden Trio. He approached prisoner, panic rising in his chest as he desperately scanned Harry’s body, looking for any signs of harm other than the obvious distortion. And it was terrible, making Draco’s stomach twist and turn because the boy was almost unrecognizable. It had to be painful. Harry met his eyes, fear in the little he could see of the slitted orbs.

“Is it? Is it Harry Potter?” His father asked, barely concealed excitement in his voice. Gods that was a stupid question, because of course it was. Draco’s heart was beating a hundred miles a minute, and not just out of fear. He could see the shocking green of Potter’s irises even through the jinxed features, and he would know that color anywhere. He would know Harry anywhere. And here he was, being forced to choose. Turning them in would be an immediate death sentence, and the greatest betrayal. But, not turning them in was the betrayal of his family. He was torn, but looking in Harry’s eyes decided it for him.

- [ ] It was clear Harry didn’t expect anything of him. Harry was scared, terrified, but as he looked at Draco he had already accepted his fate. His eyes were soft, even adoring to a point, as he tried to relay to Draco that it was okay. Harry should hate him, but it was clear he didn’t. All Draco could think of was that night in the foyer, when Draco told him he wouldn’t put his neck on the line for him. “I would never ask you to,” Harry had said, and here he was letting Draco know that he still wasn’t asking him to. He wouldn’t ask him to put his life on the line to save him. That this was Harry’s fight, not Draco’s. And that tore Draco apart, because Harry was letting Draco choose again, and he felt that Draco would choose to let him die. If there was anything Draco was sure of, it was that he would not be the reason Harry Potter didn’t live through this war.

#drarry #drarry fanfic #drarry fanfiction #Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy #Harry/Draco #harry x draco #unfinished #im sorry for this #angst #incomplete #i cant finish shit

[timelord-winchester-22b]

Family Outing

This thing here is for @ambermax15 with the prompt “Doctor’s sister, Master’s wife” This didn’t turn out at all like I wanted it to, so I hope you still like it. Also to be tagged is @im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11 Because the littlun asked so politely.

Word count: 1991

“Doctor, come on, it’s just for a day!” You complained, practically chasing your brother around the console of his Tardis.

 “No, I don’t want to” He refused again, changing direction when you lunged forward to grab for him. You growled quietly to yourself before walking around the console just enough so he could see you.

 “What, you don’t want to go out with your little sister?” You asked, feigning hurt.

 “I didn’t say that…” He tried to object, pausing when he saw your crestfallen expression. “But- he’ll be- and I- fine!” He finally relented.

 “Yay!” You grinned immediately, making the Doctor roll his eyes and huff in annoyance, no doubt regetting it already. You took advantage of his lack of attention to practically tackle him in a hug. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” You cried loudly, pulling away only after kissing him on the cheek. He grumbled to himself as he went back to fiddling with the controls on the console.

 “Sorry, so what’s going on now?” Your brother’s most recent companion, Donna, asked, frowning from her spot on the comfy chair off to the side.

 “Big bro here’s gonna join me and the Master for a little family outing” You told her smugly, hooking your arm into the Doctor’s as you grinned. He simply continued to grumble to himself as he pulled away, moving to the other side of the console. You couldn’t help but giggle to yourself at his reaction, you and Donna sharing amused looks.

 “Can I come?” Donna asked almost curiously, leaning forward as she did.

 “Best not” The Doctor answered quickly.

 “Why not?” Donna asked, her expression changing to offence faster than you thought would have been humanly possible. “Am I not allowed because it’s a ‘family outing?’”

 “No, for once, the Doctor’s right” You explained, prompting a noise of offence from you brother, which you simply ignored. “The Master doesn’t take well to humans, I’m trying to help him on that, but he’s always had something against them. Best not to end a family outing with him trying to kill you. Sorry Donna” Donna simply raised an eyebrow in return, as if not believing you.

 “Fine then, but you’re coming with us on one of our adventures next” Donna bargained. “I think we should drag her along more often Doctor, I like your sister almost more than I like you”

 “Oi! I thought you came along for me, not to gang up on me with her” The Doctor protested, coming forward to stand beside you. You rolled your eyes but grinned mockingly at him.

”Well she obviously likes me better Doc, some girls, time and space or not, just need another girl. So that’s where I come in” You grinned, high-fiving Donna. Your phone chimed and you pulled it quickly out, unlocking the device and quickly reading the text you’d just received, smiling to yourself. You hadn’t even really noticed the Doctor’s ranting about ‘stealing all his companions’ or something about the time you and Martha locked him in the Tardis while you went shopping until Donna chimed in with a “She’s not listening, Spaceman”

“Oh, yeah sorry” You told the two, shaking yourself out of your daze just as another text came in. You giggled to yourself at the words, blushing slightly as you typed out a quick reply. “Gotta go, dear husband is waiting on me” The Doctor rolled his eyes while Donna smiled. You quickly reminded the Doctor of the co-ordinates, date and time and threatened him should he be late before saying a goodbye to Donna and activating your vortex manipulator, quickly finding yourself in a very different Tardis. You were quickly pulled into a hug and let out a sound of surprise before laughing as you hugged back. The Master held you tighter as you did and you laughed again.

“Well someone missed me” You commented in amusement as he pulled away. “I was only on the Doctor’s Tardis for the one night”

“I know, but I haven’t been apart from you that long since we married” He pointed out, pouting as he absent mindedly fiddled with the ends of your hair. “And how come he gets to have you the whole night. You two grew up together, he’s had enough, it’s my turn” You laughed, batting his hands away from your hair as you turned to the console.

“You know I only go there to annoy him, plus, I spent the night in Donna’s room anyway. She wanted to have a girls’ night in” You explained to him. “And I had to get the Doctor to agree to this trip somehow” The Master sighed in annoyance, dropping his head onto your shoulder, making you smile as you rolled your eyes.

“Do I have to?” He asked, irritated.

“Yes” You answered simply, trying to keep the amusement out of your voice. “We’re leaving now, as a matter of fact” You flipped a switch on the console, powering up the engines only to have the Master switch them off again. “Hey” You chastised, turning your head to see him as he smirked at you, now standing at his full height beside you.

“Didn’t you read my text?” He asked lowly, wrapping his arms around your waist. You swallowed slowly, feeling the blush creep up again.

“I was with my brother, I didn’t linger on it” You pointed out. “Master, we have to go”

“We can go when ever we want, we have a time machine” He pointed out simply before leaning in for a kiss. What you thought would be a simple kiss was quickly proven otherwise and when you finally pulled apart, you were gasping for air. He smirked at you again, knowing he’d already won.

“I hate you” You muttered, pulling him down by his tie for another kiss.

The Doctor waited not-so-patiently outside his Tardis, checking his watch again to make sure he had the right time and date. You had said Earth, hadn’t you? He looked up when, a full fifteen minutes late, your Tardis materialised with the usual bout of wind, but silent as always. He thought he might never understand how you managed it, considering you’d promised him you’d never tell. He found himself rolling his eyes already when you stepped out first, hair fixed in a haphazard way and wearing different clothes to the ones you wore on his Tardis twenty minutes ago to him. He also couldn’t help but notice the Master’s tie pulled out from his jacket, although he tried his best not to.

“And here you were telling me not to be late” The Doctor pointed out, shaking his head at you in mock disappointment.

“Oi. Shut up” You shot back, slapping him half-heartedly on the arm before giving him a quick hug. “I’m thinking lunch” You told the two, taking the Master’s hand with a smile as you all set off. The Doctor followed along, already talking his usual ninety-miles-an-hour as he excitedly explained about some chip shop down the road he’d found a couple years ago. The Master tried to act disinterested, but kept glancing over as he listened, even through his glaring when the Doctor decided to wrap an arm around your shoulder like he did when you were kids.

You had actually been expecting a lot more fighting, especially when you left the two to go to the bathroom, only to return and find the Master talking more than you think you’d ever heard him. He was explaining exactly what had happened when the two of you had managed to take over leading some planet for two weeks before the original leader returned from some unannounced holiday and ordered you executed. The Doctor was obviously trying to seem like he didn’t approve, but smiled in amusement when the Master recounted your one-liners in particular.

You were smiling as you sat down beside the Master, saying a quick ‘hey’ as he gave you a kiss before continuing his story. You glanced across the table at your brother, expecting to see him rolling his eyes but finding him only glancing between the two of you before continuing to listen. After the Master had finished his story of the day you remembered well, you managed to prompt both of them back into your Tardis for a couple drinks. A couple drinks turned into a couple dozen, and soon enough you’d had enough to make even Time Lords intoxicated.

The next morning consisted of confusion in which you woke up in a two bed room alone in your bed to find your brother and your husband in the other together. After rousing them it took a full ten minutes to discern who’s Tardis it was, and another five or so minutes to find Donna in the kitchen. She laughed at you all as she made coffee to pass around and then showed you the pictures and videos she had gotten of the three of you after you stumbled into the other Tardis to come looking for her. Apparently some story of Donna led you to wanting to introduce her to the Master and she had been incredibly confused to find the man you wanted to protect her from hugging her when you all found her.

“Eventful family outing then?” Donna asked with a smirk, prompting a simple groan of approval and headache pain as you all sipped at your coffee. “I see you two are getting along now” She pointed out, gesturing between the two men. They glanced at each other and shrugged, returning to their drinks.

“That’s what happens when they share a bed” You muttered, twirling your mug between your fingers. You smiled as Donna laughed.

“Are they coming along then Doctor?” She asked, looking expectantly to him. “See the Doctor said he already had a plan for where we could go after you all had your family outing, and I only had a couple minutes to hear about it, but it sounds amazing” You glanced at your brother with a raised eyebrow and he shrugged.

“I don’t see why not” He agreed. You glanced towards the Master then, who shrugged the same.

“I suppose.. And you’re less of a buzz kill when your brother does it for you” He pointed out. You laughed at the Doctor’s protest, but nodded.

“Alright then” You confirmed, standing. You placed your now empty mug on the sink and patted both men on the shoulder as you walked back past to the door, Donna already up and following. “Allons-y” You and Donna laughed at yet another of the Doctor’s protests as you wandered down to the console room. Perhaps this family outing would be a bit longer than anticipated…

#doctor who #doctor who fanfiction #doctor who x reader #x reader #reader insert #doctor who reader insert #tenth doctor #10 #ten #10th doctor #the master #simm!master #master x reader #simm!master x reader #tenth doctor x sister!reader #ten x sister!reader #the master x reader #request #finally here

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

Dancing with Legends: Prologue

Summary: Professional dancers Rachel, Sam and Natia get the adventure of their live son day when they end up taking a trip though dimensions. Especially since Rachel apparently looks like someone called the Witch Queen.

Co-author is: @cometthespacechinchilla because I rant way to much in the chat.

-

"It’s not the end of the world,” Sam tells his dance partner, grimacing at the group of Georgian dancers who had just won the competition. “We’re still in for best tango dancers in the USA…”

“I know. Just sucks.” Rachel sighs as she adjusts the hem of her dress. “We should probably go and like… say congratulations?” Sam shrugs and runs a hand through his short fohawk.

“We can not and-“

“Come on, maybe you can hit on one of them.” Sam perks up at that.

“Ooooh, I can offer my lovely self as a prize!” Sam grins wickedly while Rachel sighs.

“What is with you and sex?”

“Sex is fucking fantastic. Almost as good as dancing with a good partner.” Sam says seriously. Rachel snorts and pulls her dancer partner over to the other group, where a tall woman with her blonde hair up in a bun is standing somewhat apart. Her face looks deadpan as she stands there, but looks up at them with a raised eyebrow.

“Congratulations!” Rachel offers, offering her hand, still holding onto Sam’s arm. “You and your team deserve the win.” The woman blinks but then nods, offering her own hand.

As soon as they shake hands, the temperature of the place drops suddenly.

“What the-“ Rachel begins but the sound of breaking glass fills the air. The three of them feel like they’re been lifted off their feet, and spun around and around fast.

They finally came out and landed with a thump on the ground. Rachel groans from where she landed on her back, Sam sprawled across her.

“Get off me.” She grunts, shoving him off.

“Fuck, I landed on a rock.” Sam grunts, sitting up with a wince. “…What the fuck?”

“French-“ Rachel says, only to stop when she lifts herself up, staring around her. A bunch of people dressed in peasant clothing were around them, while they were also in the middle of a village that…

“What the hell?” asks the Georgian Dancer, as she herself sits up.

“I have no idea what you said.” Rachel tells her.

“..Sorry. I said what the hell.” The dancer mutters. “This looks like something from a… a…”

“Play?” Sam offers.

“Yes, that.” The dancer stands up as does Same who also helps Rachel to her feet. They look around themselves.

“…Does anyone have a phone?” Rachel asks. Sam pats himself down while the people all take a step back.

“I do not think they like us,” the dancer observes, crossing her arms.

“No shit,” Sam voices. “Fuck, no phone.”

“We were dancing, you take your phone on the dance floor?”

“Hey, Maria calls me alright? Gotta watch out for my cousin.” Sam shoots back as someone on a horse comes riding through the square. The man sitting on it is wearing armour and scowling. “…Okay, hot eye candy, this place just got better.”

“Would it kill you to think about something other then sex?” asks Rachel. Sam looks a little upset.

“Hey! I think about dancing most of the time!” he tells her as the man comes and drops off the horse.

“Witch Queen!” he shouts, pointing at Rachel.

“…I know your dress is a little revealing but witch?” Sam asks outloud.

“Shut up Sam.” Rachel hisses as the dancer frowns.

“What the hell is going on?”

“Are these your new followers?” the man demands. “Are you rebuilding your army witch?”

“Whoa buddy,” Rachel says. “I have no idea who you’re talking about here.” The man scoffs.

“A likely story!” he snaps at Rachel and the girl scowls, placing her hands on her hips and drawing herself up.

“…You are way to short even in heels.” Sam mutters.

“This is serious Sam!” Rachel hisses at him and he shrugs.

“I know, I’m just pointing out you’re to short to try to look tall.” Sam says to her as Rachel scowls deeper and a white haired man comes up to them.

“…An elf?!” the dancer says, looking shocked.

“Again, we don’t understand.” Sam tells the woman who scowls. “Hey, I get the same problem to.”

“How are you so calm?” Rachel hisses.

“Because everyone here is insanely attractive so I get eye candy.” Sam answers honestly. The new comer along with the man and dancer stare.

Rachel slaps a hand over her face and groans, loudly.

“Of course.” Sam shrugs.

“There are very beautiful people around us, how can I despair upon seeing them?” Sam twitches a little and Rachel blinks, noticing how he stands.

Oh.

She herself moves her feet a little, eyeing the people around her.

“I quite like this companion,” chuckles the newcomer. “Though I do agree with you August, the resemblance is… startling.” He looks at Rachel with wary eyes and Sam twitches a bit more.

That’s when Rachel really looks and sees the weapons on the men’s hips. She reaches out to touch Sam’s shoulder.

“Don’t.” She says, not bothering to hide it. Better to warn Sam not to start something. “Elf’s got a bow.” Sam blinks, and looks over the men and shrugs.

“Fine. Still though, very attractive faces. Glad I’m not trying to punch them.” He winks and grins, dropping his stance and holding up his hands with a lazy grin. The elf laughs while the other guy- August- scowls.

“Would you have fought them?” the dancer asks. Sam blinks at her but seems to understand what she's saying- more or less.

“Elf’s got a weak spot in the armour I noticed, aim there I could get ‘im on the ground quick. Knight’s a harder sell but if I got his arm I could flip ‘im and put him down and book it. Bow complicates things.” Sam says pleasantly.

“Ah… smart. I would go for legs.”

“And still, no clue what you're saying.”

“Shut up.” Rachel hisses at both of them. August looks pissed while the elf looks amused but wary. “Look, I am not the Witch Queen-“

“Liar!” August snaps. “You appear here with a new… general and a bodyguard and do not expect us to notice?!”

“…Who’s the general?”

“SAM SHUT UP.” Rachel growls at Sam, causing the man to shrug.

“Fine, deprive you of my wit I shall.” Rachel covers her face as August scowls.

“You will follow me Witch! I shall take you to Lord Reiner this instant! Your general and bodyguard shall come as well!” Rachel wrinkles her nose as he pulls out rope and then stops. “…You shall all walk.”

“I’m down with that.” Sam says pleasantly. “You alright in the shoes Rachel?”

“If I can dance in my heels, I can walk.” Rachel replies.

“Awesome.” Sam cheers. “…By the way, what the hell is your name?” He nods to the dancer who just scowls. “I'm Sam Bellamy.”

“Natia Bakhia.” The dancer- Natia- says.

“Nice.” Sam offers his hand and Natia shakes it. It looks awkward with their hands tied together.

“Rachel Archer.” Rachel offers, offering her bound hands. Natia glares at her instead. “What’s with the look?” She asks. Natia snorts. “What?”

“You’re apparently the look alike of the Witch Queen.” Sam says. “Fantasy usually says it’s your fault we’re in this mess.” Rachel scowls at him while Natia nods.

“Fuck both of you.” Sam grins then. “Shit.”

“Why my lovely Rachel! I had no idea that you felt that way about me!” he clasps his hands to his chest. “Ah, my heart cannot-“

“I will shove you into a fucking lake.” Rachel hisses, prompting him to laugh. “Go back to staring at the asses of the people taking us to meet a lord or whatever.”

“They are lovely asses.” Sam agrees, prompting August to sputter.

“Why thank you dear sir!” the elf says, smirking. “May I say yours is pleasant as well?”

“You may!” Sam cackles.

“Iseul! Cease your flirtations with the bodyguard!” August snaps. However, the elf and Sam don’t listen, flirting back and forth as the trudge towards the castle.

“I regret the handshake so much now.” Rachel mutters.

#love & legends #l&l #fanfic #voltage #lovestruck #dtl

[aridinosnore]

hold my hand - jeggy

i really love jeggy and im bored late at night so my hands do their magic ;)))) this is off of this prompt, enjoy it, it’s also on my ao3 which is freezethedinosaurs

John Laurens always seemed to surprise Peggy Schuyler in various ways. Her bubbly personality seemed to fit well with his very own loyal and sweet demeanor. What Peggy had not expected the night they had— well she wasn’t fond of referring it to “hooking up” exactly but it was practically what had happened that night at the Winter’s Ball— was how the man softly asked her almost timidly if she could hold his hand while they fell into slumber.

The two had exchanged many glances that night and conversed with each other during the ball. John had taken notice of her pale yellow dress and Angelica had warned her to not get herself in trouble by being associated with men as rowdy as John and his friends. But Peggy knew her own sister was smitten by one of Lauren’s friends. Eliza seemed to be as well. She brushed those observations off and had listened to her heart that pounded against her ribcage as she and John laughed together, sharing jokes and small talk. They had ran off a few seconds after the band had finished one of their songs, she had watched Eliza dance enthusiastically to the music. That night, Peggy couldn’t help but notice the freckles that splattered against his skin. It was one of her favorite things about him. It did stand out to her, however, when he asked her to enfold her slim fingers with his calloused ones. She obliged and they had fallen into unconsciousness with their fingers laced together.

Peggy asked herself why she was here. Why did they both have to be here? She happened to be in town which was a relief to her but why did they have to be here? The infirmary stank of blood and sweat, she knew too well it was coming from John, who laying in bed. He looked very pale and fragile, his lightly tanned skin becoming nearly sheet white. Once she had gotten the letter about his injury, inflicted in his work with the war going on, Peggy rushed over to the infirmary he was being held at.

“No— John,” she murmured in her soft voice but her dark eyes had widened, they were slowly filling with salty tears as she sat herself on a chair beside the bed John was situated on. The sheets were stained with deep crimson. His blood. Peggy asked the doctor multiple questions out of her worrisome state and the doctor answered nervously yet firmly. He allowed the couple to have their privacy as he shut the door softly as he exited the room. John’s eyes moved to rest on Peggy’s face, a meek grin making its way onto his lips. Sweat rested on his brow and his hair was disheveled. Peggy’s hand gently caressed his cheek bone, her own brows furrowed in concern.

“Dear, it’s okay. I— everything will be okay,” her voice was betraying Peggy. It cracked at the end of her sentence as she squeezed his hand. The Winter Ball seemed so long ago now as they sat in the tension of the infirmary room John was being held in. He seemed so weak. Peggy had never seen him like this, it was foreign and frightening. She began to rant on in fret of losing John, words falling from her lips in a rushed manner. John simply stared at her with a small smile. “I’m sorry for not being here earlier. I had gotten the letter and I came as soon as I can. Thank the lord I was in the area, am I wrong—?”

John had interrupted her rambling as Peggy pulled her hand away to begin pacing the room in her bold yellow frocks. He cleared his throat however his voice was still raspy, “Peggy.” The brunette quickly turned her head and rushed over to his side, obviously anxious at the sound of his weak voice.

“Yes, yes what is it, John? Do you need assistance with something? I can call the doctor.” A hand ran through her frizzy hair and he noticed it wasn’t tied up like it usually was. She had been in a hurry to get here.

“Hold my hand,” he said solemnly but a smile adorned his freckled face. Peggy could see the sadness behind it. “I am falling asleep.”

Her eyes filled with tears. They were hot and salty against her cheeks as they fell, her hand slipping into John’s own hand. Their fingers laced with each other’s as John’s breaths seemed to becoming more inconsistent. Peggy hung her head as she pressed their interlocked hands against her forehead.

“Let me call the doctor, please. He’ll do something. You’ll be okay, John.” She reassured him with a short laugh through tears as he smiled up at her. His eyes closed and Peggy told herself that he was merely blinking.

But why didn’t they open? Blinks only lasted a millisecond, right? This moment felt like eternity.

“John— no please. John,” her breath hitched and John’s grip on her hand went limp, however she held his hand tightly. He had wanted to hold her hand to help him go to sleep.

It was the first and last time Peggy didn’t want to hold his hand.

#jeggy #hamilton #hamilton fanfiction #jeggy fanfiction #john laurens #peggy schuyler #angst #sad #fluff #forgive me #its late at night ugghhh

[quietly-passionate]

Rant :)

These past 2 days have been the wildest fucking bullshit I have ever been through and I am so fucking tired and just completely blown away by the audacity of the girls kaizon dates. like first of all, both of them have been shitty girlfriends, and have manipulated the fuck out of kai and his emotions and his genuine compassion for people despite his many personal issues and I would fucking know because I’ve been there for all of them. Jamecia doesnt understand how much I do not give a fuckabout her or her life unless it has something to do with Kai, and I feel bad that she thinks she’s worthless but thats not my fucking problem. I’m not tryna get into any of her fucking business. She is not my friend and this bitch has blown up my phone the past two days with utter BULLSHIT. first she’s mad and manipulating ME, then she’s all of a sudden down in the dumps and texting me about walking in the middle of the street tryna get hit by a fucking car and how shes worthless and doesnt deserve Kai and just bs bs bs and im just like what the fuck do you want me to do about any of this we arent friends, it doesnt matter if i dont like you, this is about you and kai like wtf. and when i finally think we’ve reached a fucking conclusion and everyones fine SHE KEEPS FUCKING TEXTING ME bullshit about how she’s sorry and she just thinks me and kai shouldnt talk and kai’s texting me sad as hell like usual when shit like this happens and im just like please dear lord why am i still having this gotdamn conversation. AND OUT OF THE FUCKING BLUE COMES MOTHERFUCKING BITCH ASS ALEXZA texting me some SHIT when she KNOWS ABSO FUCKING LUTELY NOTHING about what is happening and just wants to INSERT HER ANNOYING ASS USELESS ASS VOICE IN THIS ALREADY WAY TOO LONG CONVERSATION LIKE I ACTUALLY GIVE A FUCK ABOUT HER OR HAVE GIVEN A FUCK ABOUT HER FOR THE PAST 4 YEARS. like bitch WHO ARE YOU!!?!?!? no one fucking important and i am not here for ANY OF THIS BULLSHIT. im about to lose my fucking best friend because his girlfriend is insecure and fucking crazy and his ex girlfriend is also fucking crazy and he doesnt make the best decisions when it comes to any of his fucking relationships oh my godddddddddddddd. i have evolved too much for this utter bullshit to be in my life. and it has to be because im trying to clear all this emotional baggage that LITERALLY THIS BIGGEST PILE OF EMOTIONAL SHIT GOT SHAT IN MY LAP THE PAST 2 DAYS . if i didnt think the world of kai i would not be dealing with this phenomal piece of steaming crap. alexza can go jump off a fucking bridge for all i fucking care and i really hope him and jamecia find a way to be happy because this is too much fucking drama to not have something good come out of it for him. and to be comepletely honest even if she wasnt making him not talk to me i wouldve dropped off the face of the planet with him for a good ass minute because of all this shitty mcshit shit fucking uugggghhhh has driven me crazy. i love kaizon but super ultra FUCK his fucking girlfriends man all of em. fucking crazy ass harpy ass jealous ass gross ass dumb ass stupid fucking bitches i cannot. 

#mytext #feelings #rant