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amhrosina · 1 year

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Your Pretty Heart (Billy Russo x f!Reader)

A/N: Anyone else widely obsessed with Pedro Pascal and The Last of Us right now? Being back in my Pedro era feels like getting home after a long ass trip. Should I write for some of Pedro's characters?? SOS! Also, I hit 800 followers today??? Like what??? Thank you to everyone who supports me and this account!!

Request: ex’s to lovers with Billy Russo or Matt Murdock. Where Frank and Karen “help” Billy/Matt get their ass together to get back with Reader. Because come on their clearly still in lovee.

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: When you and Billy break up, Karen takes it upon herself to get you back together. Her plan comes to a head one night at Josie’s, and you and Billy must face the consequences of loving and leaving one another.

(Warnings: so much angst, cursing, Billy is a soft!boy at heart, soft!Billy, descriptions of smut (but like romantic descriptions, not graphic ones??), I think that’s it, it’s literally just really sad until the end lol)

“You look great.” Your date smiled, but he wasn’t looking at your face. Instead, for the third time in less than a minute, his eyes trailed the sloping curve of your cleavage as it disappeared into your dress. You shrugged his gaze off, hoping there was at least something interesting about him to keep you entertained for the evening. Something could be there. Deep, deep, down, but there, nonetheless.

“So, Brad, what do you do for work? When Karen set this up, she didn’t tell me much about you.”

“I’m an accountant.”

Brad nodded his head along with yours, an awkward bob as you waited for him to return the question. He didn’t, instead choosing to fix his gaze on the jazz singer across the restaurant. Zero for two, Brad.

“Do you, uh, have any hobbies?” You tried again to break the conversation dam, but Brad’s attention was so far away from the table you were sharing that he barely glanced at you when he responded.

“I jog sometimes.”

“Oh!” You lurched forward, desperate to grab onto anything that might make this date less awkward. “I like to jog, too. I’ll listen to books when I do it to pass the time. Do you read at all?”

Brad’s eyes flicked to yours, then back to the jazz singer. Uninterested, bored, and inconvenienced. That’s what his glance told you.

“People who need books or music when they run aren’t capable of self-reflection. It’s how you grow as a human being, you know? You should try it.”

You blinked. Who the fuck does this guy think he is? A pompous, arrogant, prick seemed like the winning description, and you chuckled as you looped your purse handle over your shoulder.

“Well, Brad.” You stood from your seat, drawing his attention away from the band. “Congratulations. You win. I think this is quite possibly the worst date I’ve ever been on, and that’s saying a lot.”

You didn’t deem him with an explanation as you exited the restaurant, but a vivid memory flashed in your mind of Billy standing you up on your anniversary last year. Yeah, that date was terrible, but at least Billy hadn’t insulted you after standing you up. He’d spent weeks apologizing with flowers, jewelry, and even cutting down on his time at Anvil so he could spend more time with you, but that date would always stick out in your mind as the beginning of the end.

You shook the thoughts from your head, digging through your purse to find your cellphone. Karen was going to explain where the fuck she met this guy, and why she thought setting him up with you would be a good idea. She picked up on the second ring.

“Karen.” You tapped your foot on the sidewalk. “What the fuck?”

“Hey! How was the date?”

Wherever Karen was, it was loud. You could barely understand her through the speaker, muffled by music and what sounded like a crowd of people in the background.

“The date was so bad.” You almost whined. Almost stomped your foot at how unfair the dating world had become. Almost thought about how much easier it was when you were with Billy. “Where did you even meet this guy?”

“At work. Was he an asshole?” She sounded apologetic, but the volume at which she had to scream her question into the phone made the entire interaction feel a little less impactful.

“Grade-A Asshole.” You groaned. “Where are you?”

“I’m at Josie’s, but-”

“Great. I’m on my way.”

You hung up the phone before she could respond and hailed a taxi. You felt a little guilty for barging in on her evening. Karen was a good friend, one that you’d clung to since you and Billy had gone your separate ways, and she deserved a night out without your moping. But the nagging feeling rolling around in the pit of your stomach told you exactly the reason you had to go to Josie’s. If you didn’t go hang out with Karen, you’d end up calling Billy, and the last thing you wanted to do was let him see you after a shitty date. You climbed into the taxi and hoped you could drink away the memories of tonight with Karen once you arrived at Josie’s.

Billy took a hefty sip of his beer as he eavesdropped on Karen’s phone conversation. Technically, it wasn’t eavesdropping if Karen had whacked him on the arm the second her phone started ringing, but it made Billy uncomfortable anyways. What they’d planned felt too much like a trick, and he didn’t want to take advantage of the situation.

“She’s on her way.” Karen grinned, raising her beer in the air to clink bottles with him.

Billy fiddled with the bottle in his hand, unsure if there was anything to be ‘cheersing’ to.

“C’mon, Bill,” Frank grunted, meeting Karen’s still outstretched arm, “It worked. She’s on her way. Now, all you have to do is be a lesser asshole than her date.”

“Don’t you think she’ll be furious when she finds out her entire evening was construed by her ex-boyfriend and best friends? She doesn’t even want to see me.”

“Trust me, Billy,” Karen angled her head for emphasis, “She does. She just won’t admit it.”

“How do you know, though?”

“I see it on her face, and hear it in her voice, and she’s still sleeping on my couch. And you know what that tells me?”

Billy rolled his eyes. “What does that tell you, Karen?”

Karen’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “That she’s not looking for another apartment. That she still has hope that she’ll be able to go home, to your apartment.”

Billy shook his head. “The market is insane. Maybe she just can’t find an affordable one.”

“I saw three listed in the paper this morning. She’s not looking, Billy. She misses you.”

Billy groaned, dragging his hands over his face. This entire situation was completely and totally fucked, and it was completely and totally his fault. He’d always been warned that his ambition would get the best of him. You’d slipped through his fingers so quickly that he got whiplash when he thought about the end of the relationship. It was like you were there one day and gone the next, and he had no idea how he ended up alone, stranded in his kitchen in the middle of the night because the idea of going to bed without you hurt too much.

“What if it’s too late? What if I can’t fix it?”

“All you can do is try, Bill.” Frank shrugged.

“She loves you.” Karen spoke firmly, tapping her finger on the table, “And you love her. But she needs to know that. You have to show her that you love her.”

“How? I thought I was doing that before.” Billy let out a disgruntled breath and cleared his throat.

“Your priorities need to change. She deserves better than last-minute cancellations and rescheduled dates. You’re your own boss, Billy. You make the rules, and no matter how much money you spend on her, or how many gifts you buy her, she’s always going to remember the times that you didn’t show up.”

Billy nodded. Karen was right, as usual. There’d been a significant change in the amount of time Billy was spending at Anvil, sometimes returning home early in the morning, only to change suits and leave again. It wasn’t your fault – it never was – but Billy couldn’t help himself from falling back into his old patterns. When shit got too real, he retreated, and it ended up costing him the most important thing in his life.

Tonight was his chance to fix everything – to bring you home, to remind you that he adored you, to show you that his life was falling apart without you in it. All he had to do was get you to listen, and he was sure everything else would fall into place.

You took three steps into the bar before swiveling around and marching out in a dramatic fashion. Cursing Karen for conveniently forgetting to mention that Billy was with her, you tried not to stomp down the sidewalk that led to Karen’s apartment. If you had an apartment of your own, you’d surely be stomping your way there instead.

You didn’t make it far before you heard your name being called behind you. Two distinct voices trailed you, but you were more focused on the lack of the third. Had he stayed behind at the bar? You swung around, almost slamming into Frank’s chest. Karen was a few steps behind him, and behind her, stood beautiful and broken Billy, hands in his pants pockets.

“What?” You screeched, eyes flickering between the group.

“I just wanted to tell you thaaaat,” Karen’s eyes twinkled, and you should’ve known that she was about to make your night go from bad to worse, “I’m going back to my apartment with my boyfriend, who is going to do very loud things to me for hours. If I were you, I’d steer clear of the whole block tonight.”

You rolled your eyes and looked at Frank, whose innocent expression gave away Karen’s plan faster than you could piece it together. Clearly, this coup had been planned, and they were leaving you with no option but to spend time with Billy.

“Is that so?” You narrowed your eyes at her, hoping she could read every nasty thought you’d ever had about her in your gaze.

“Yep!” She hooked an arm through Frank’s and tugged him down the sidewalk. “See you tomorrow!”

You watched them until they turned a corner, and you could no longer see them. When you turned to face Billy again, he had inched closer to you, standing a heady meter away with his hands still in his pockets.

“Did you plan this?”

The anger in your voice echoed across the concrete, slamming into Billy. He grasped his chest as if you’d shot him in the heart.

“No. I didn’t even know there was a plan until I showed up at Josie’s earlier.”

You hesitated to believe him, but something in the way he was looking at you told you to trust him. You looked him up and down, focusing on the way he looked worse than you’d ever seen him. For a brief second, you felt triumph over it. He deserved this after everything he did to you. He deserved to feel like shit. The triumph faded faster than it came, and an overwhelming sadness replaced the ire thoughts you were having about him.

There were bags under his eyes, and you could tell he hadn’t been sleeping well. He never did when he couldn’t sleep with you. The facial hair that he usually kept so neat and maintained had grown beyond his usual boundaries, and the fact that he kept subconsciously scratching at it told you he didn’t like it. You tried not to let it get to you. You probably looked like shit, too.

“How’ve you been?” His focus remained wholly on you. You rubbed the back of your neck to try and shake off his stare.

“We don’t have to do this, Bil.” You looked at the ground, focusing on the crack in the concrete that crawled its way across the sidewalk, drawing a line inbetween you and Billy. You couldn’t decide if that was fitting, or incredibly sad. Maybe it was both.

“We’re not doing anything.” He shook his head innocently.

“You know what I mea-”

“Come home.”

There was a pregnant pause in the conversation as the two of you eyed each other.

“Billy, I-”

“Just for tonight. Until Karen’s apartment is...safe again.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, searching for an ulterior motive. And of course, there was an ulterior motive. You couldn’t blame him for it, because you knew if the roles were reversed, you’d be doing the same thing.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” You shook your head, more towards yourself than at him.

“Why not?” He cocked his head to the side.

“You know why.”

He nodded but shrugged his shoulders anyways.

“I’m not going to leave you out here with nowhere to go. It’s either the apartment, or we spend the next few hours in awkward silence at a diner.”

The apartment. Not ‘my’ apartment. He didn’t consider it his when you weren’t there to claim the other half of it. You couldn’t lie to yourself. You wanted so badly to go with him, to see the home that you’d built with him. You wanted so badly to see how he’d faired over the last month without you. It was with all this in mind, and not how much you missed him, that had you nodding, agreeing to go home. Just for a visit, you repeated in your mind, just for a visit.

When you stepped into what was once the living room you shared with Billy, you were struck with an overwhelming sense of familiarity. There was nothing different about it, except that the bookshelf was a little less stuffed than usual. You’d grabbed your favorites on your way out, unable to part with them, even just for a little bit.

“Can I get you some wine?” Billy asked, already heading toward the kitchen to pour himself a glass. You nodded, shrugging your jacket off and trying to ignore the strangeness of being treated like a guest in the home that you’d lived in for years.

When Billy returned with two particularly full glasses, you plopped down on the couch. You didn’t know how to act, or what to say, or who to be when you were around him anymore and falling back into old habits seemed like a grand way to get your feelings hurt again.

“You didn’t answer my question earlier.” Billy took a swig from his glass, sitting on the armchair across from the couch. You silently thanked the universe that he had put distance between the two of you. The closer he was, the less clearly you could think.

“Which one?”

“How’ve you been?”

“Oh.” You took a sip, only because it gave you something to do with your hands. “I’ve been alright.”

He smiled, but the corners of his mouth didn’t reach his eyes. Anyone who looked at you longer than two seconds could see that you’re clearly not doing alright, but you’d grown comfortable living in denial, and you weren’t going to admit how not alright you were.

“Heard your date didn’t go well.”

You scoffed. Maybe it was the wine, or the way he looked smug about the fact that you’d had a shitty date, but you couldn’t help what came out of your mouth next.

“Fuck you, Billy. It’s none of your business.”

Billy looked startled by your outburst. You gulped down another mouthful of wine before rubbing your hand down your face.

“I’m sorry.” You shook your head. “I don’t know where that came from.”

“It’s okay. I probably deserve it.” He shrugged, leaning back in his seat.

“What happened to us?” You asked, gazing at the ceiling.

“You tell me, sunflower. You’re the one that left.”

Your heart ached at the nickname. It wasn’t fair that he used it, especially when you were clearly in a vulnerable mood, but you cherished it anyways.

“You left first.”

It was barely a whisper, said so quietly that you weren’t quite sure he had heard you. If the palpable tension that followed wasn’t indicative of his acknowledgment, the deep sigh that erupted from his chest soon after was indication enough. He stayed quiet, swirling the remaining wine in his glass around in small circles.

You stared at him, unflinching in your assessment of his body language. He didn’t look as miserable as you felt, and a spark of anger ignited in your belly because of it.

“Did you ever really love me, Bil?” You barked. It was bait, and both of you knew it. You’d never questioned his love for you, and he knew you were trying to get a rise out of him, but he couldn’t help stepping up to the plate and taking the bait.

“What kind of fucking question is that?” He watched you closely. You tried not to let your triumph show on your face. “Of course, I love you.”

He stood from his seat and rested his hands on his hips, willing you to do the same. Meet him where he stood, he dared, show him how much you still care. You were nothing if not a daredevil. You joined him in the middle of the room, pressing your index finger into his chest.

“Well then, what the fuck happened?”

“You. Tell. Me.” He gritted from between clenched teeth.

Billy wasn’t being fair to you, and he knew it. You were asking a valid question, and he was cowering behind the anger and frustration in the room.

“I can’t do this again, Bil.” You turned, reaching for your purse. A heavy tug on your elbow had you crashing into Billy’s chest, where he enveloped his arms around you and pulled you into a crushing hold.

“You’re not leaving, are you?”

There was a softness in his voice that tugged at your heartstrings. For a moment, you forgot you were speaking to a grown man and not an orphaned little boy. You blew a long breath out before shaking your head. He rested his forehead against your shoulder.

“No, Bil. I’m not leaving.”

“I always knew I’d end up breaking your pretty heart.” His voice was muffled by your shoulder, but you didn’t miss the slight crack in his words. “I knew I’d fuck it up eventually.”

“I don’t understand what happened. Everything was fine, and then it wasn’t.” You blinked away the tears that had built up on your waterline.

“I know, baby. I’m so sorry.”

You cupped his face as he dropped to his knees in front of you. His eyes, now red-rimmed and glassy, pleaded with you, and you couldn’t stop yourself from lowering your body next to his.

“What’s going on?” You asked him, eyes flickering between his fast-blinking eyelids and rapidly shaking hands.

“I was afraid.” He cleared his throat. “Am. I am afraid.”

“Of what? Where is this coming from?” You gaped. You knew Billy struggled with commitment more than most – it had taken him almost a year of serious dating before he could tell you he loved you – but you thought he had moved past that.

“Tom’s getting married.”

Your brow furrowed. “What does Tom have to do with us?”

“Tom’s getting married, and all I can think about is how I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to give that to you, and how you deserve someone who can give you everything you want and more.”

You let his words sink into your chest, dissecting every interaction you’d had with him leading up to your breakup. It had been a slow descent, and when it finally became too much, you’d left with no clue how you ended up alone and sleeping on Karen’s couch every night.

“Billy,” You shuttered, shaking your head as tears began to travel down your cheeks, “I never said I wanted any of that.”

“It’s what you deserve.”

“But it’s not what I want. Why couldn’t you see that I was happy with the way things were?”

“I was terrified that you’d leave me. And then I became a shit boyfriend, and you really did leave me, and it was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You wiped the tears from under your eyes and sniffled. “You weren’t always a shit boyfriend.”

Billy snorted, letting a small smile cross his face as he tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“Can you ever forgive me, sunflower?”

You considered his question. If you were being completely honest, you’d forgiven him as soon as you saw his pretty, brown eyes across the bar earlier, so sad and searching for you.

“Can you promise that you’ll tell me when you’re feeling like this again, instead of shutting me out?” You cupped his cheek, eyes flicking down to his lips and then back up to his eyes.

“I can promise that I’ll try.” He swallowed, searching your expression. “Is that enough?”

You lurched forward, pressing your lips to his. The kiss tasted of red wine and salt, and you were suddenly grateful that you’d slumped to the floor earlier instead of waiting until now, when your knees were weak and shaking with anticipation.

“I love you.” Billy mumbled inbetween kisses.

“Show me.” You responded, opening yourself to him for the first time in over a month.

He took you right there on the living room floor, a flurry of intertwined limbs, swollen lips, and skin brushing skin. His lips only left yours long enough to whisper praises against your neck before returning to yours in a bruising kiss. When you came apart underneath him, you couldn’t stop the tears from forming, but he didn’t mind. He kissed the tears away, apologies in their own right, as he continued showing you how much he loved you.

Later on, after hours of reconciliation and apologies, you collapsed next to Billy on the couch. You’d lost your clothes a long time ago, only covered with the throw blanket you’d purchased the year before on a whim, and you watched as he sighed in quiet contemplation.

“We should tell Karen and Frank that their plan worked.” You rested your head on his shoulder. He smiled, pulling you into his chest.

“Let them figure it out on their own. They’ll come around at some point tomorrow when you still haven’t gone back.”

He was right. The next morning, when Karen and Frank knocked on the door, you and Billy were still cuddled together on the couch, so worn out from the night before that you hadn’t been able to muster up the energy to move to the bedroom. You took one glance at Billy before you were on him again, uncaring that your friends were waiting. That’s fine, you thought, let them wait. Let them wait.

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agentwashingcat · 1 year

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Coffee Date

I literally never thought I’d be writing a white knight fic but here I am lmao. Takes place after vol 9!

Cross posted on ao3 under the same name!

“This is weird,” Jaune said, frowning. “Why is it weird?”

He was sitting across from Weiss, at a little cafe in Vacuo. It was their first date, kind of. Neither of them were really sure what they were doing here. At least, Jaune was sure he had no idea what he was doing here.

“Because you’re making it weird?” Weiss asked, rolling her eyes. She gave him a once over, a small smirk forming. “You know, I think I was more attracted to you when you were 40.”

Jaune stood up from the table. “Alright, well, we had a good run.”

“Jaune, sit down,” Weiss said with a laugh, pulling him back down into his seat. “That was a joke.”

“Right, right.” Jaune wiped his hands on his pants nervously. “Sorry. I’ve… never been on a real date before.”

“Me either.”

“Wait, really?”

Weiss raised an eyebrow. “When would I have had the time? Ruby and Yang were constantly getting into things at Beacon, and then there was all the studying and then after that, well, we’ve been busy.”

“I mean, before Beacon-”

“Before Beacon I was entirely at my father's beck and call.” Weiss gave a humorless smile. “I wasn’t allowed to go on dates.”

Honestly, that made Jaune feel a little bit better. Maybe he wasn’t entirely out of his depth here.

Okay he was, but at least Weiss was there with him.

Jaune took a deep breath, holding his coffee cup tightly. Weiss had gotten there before him and ordered them both a cup. His was just the way he liked it.

Weiss always remembered how everyone took their coffee.

“You know, you’re really sweet, beneath the ice queen exterior,” he teased.

To his surprise, Weiss flushed. “No one’s ever accused me of being sweet before.”

“It wasn’t an accusation. More like an observation.” Jaune smiled warmly at her. “And I mean it. You’re a genuinely warm and caring person, Weiss. And even if this doesn’t work out, I’m really glad to have you as a friend.”

Weiss went an even darker red. Jaune wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her look like that before. It was kind of cute. “You can’t just say things like that, Jaune!”

“Sure I can. And did.”

Weiss rolled her eyes. “Don’t think flattery will get you anywhere.”

Jaune laughed. “Oh, don’t worry, I know that. I tried that back at Beacon and it never got me anywhere.” He cringed now, thinking back to how much of a jerk he was at Beacon. No wonder Weiss had never given him the time of day. “I’m sorry for that, actually. I shouldn’t have been so…”

“Relentless?” Weiss offered.

“Relentless,” Jaune agreed. “I thought that’s what I was supposed to do. But it turns out girls like you better when you treat them like people instead of objects.”

“Groundbreaking,” Weiss deadpanned, a frown forming on her face. “Except it was only me you treated that way.”

Yeah, his past behavior hadn’t exactly been great. “Well, I didn’t have a crush on anyone else, I guess. And you were the only one who didn’t give me the time of day, so I thought I had to win you over.” Jaune grimaced slightly. “I was an idiot.”

“You were an idiot,” Weiss agreed, smiling. “But not anymore.”

It was Jaune’s turn to blush. “Eh, well, I’m still kind of an idiot.”

Weiss shook her head. “Jaune, you’re not an idiot. You’re a brilliant strategist, a loyal friend, and a good person.”

Jaune’s face got redder. “I-well, thank you, Weiss.”

“You’re welcome.” Weiss paused, looking unsure. “So it wasn’t just because I was a Schnee?”

“No, of course not!” Jaune tilted his head. “Is that a thing?”

“You have no idea.” Weiss stared down into her coffee cup. “Before I went to Beacon, the only friends I had were people who wanted to use me for their own gains. When you showed interest in me back then, I assumed the worst.”

Oh that… really shed a lot of light on their interactions. “I didn’t know.”

Weiss waved her hand dismissively. “Of course you didn’t. It’s not like I would have told you.”

“Still, though.” Jaune took a sip of his coffee, mulling things over. “I know Atlas was your home, and you miss it, but it was kind of shitty, right?”

“I take it all back, Jaune, you’re still an idiot.” Weiss shook her head at him, although she didn’t look upset. A little sad, but not upset. “You’re right, though. It was a mess of petty politics and terrible rich people who had never worked a day in their life. I had thought maybe we could rebuild, one day, but… is it even worth it? Should we just let it stay buried?”

“I think if anyone can rebuild it and make it better, it’s you, Weiss,” Jaune said sincerely.

Weiss flushed pink again, smiling nervously. “Thanks, Jaune. You are…surprisingly charming.”

Jaune nearly choked on his coffee. “I’m what?”

“And the moment’s gone.” Weiss took a sip of her own coffee. “Should we do this again next week?”

“Uh, yeah, of course!” Jaune agreed eagerly. “It’s a date?”

Weiss nodded, smiling. “It’s a date.”

#rwby #Jaune Arc #Weiss Schnee #white knight #my rwby fic #vol9 made me a white knight shipper I regret nothing lmao

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duchi-nesten · 1 year

Text

Right?

Summary:

After a talk with Jazz, Danny realizes that he maybe kinda procrastinated confessing his feelings for Tucker. Just a little bit.

He was waiting for the right moment, okay!

Wordcount: 4135 || AO3 Link

My first phic for Phic Phight using the prompt by @hpwot !

Danny had wanted to tell Tucker that he had a crush on him the day of the accident. It never went away, but in all the chaos since that day, he's never been able to just say it out loud. A talk with Jazz helps, there's never going to be a right moment, he just has to do it.

Also first fic I have written in literal years, so I hope it’s alright! The plot has escaped me so many times it’s unreal lmAO

She knew.

Danny knew very well that Jazz knew. Of course she knew. She was always incredibly perceptive and caring. All she had to do was look at him to know something was up, reading his emotions like an open book. She was a very loving and overprotective sister and that is exactly why she just couldn’t keep her annoying nose out of his business.

She tried to corner him for a few weeks now, but he always managed to give her the slip. Sometimes even using his ghost powers to do so. Yet Jazz wasn’t known for simply giving up. No matter what he did, Danny knew that sooner or later he would be dragged into an impromptu pseudo therapy session with his sister.

He could at least try to prolong the inevitable though.

He was down in the lab on a Tuesday afternoon. His parents have finally had enough of waiting on him to start on his chores, so they threatened to ground him if he didn’t do it today. Not the worst thing they ever threatened him with, but still.

He was scrubbing on a very persistent ectoplasm stain when he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Danny turned around just in time to see his sister descend the last steps into the lab.

Oh Ancients, here we go.

‘’What do you want, Jazz? I’m cleaning.’’ he stated flatly, turning back around to the stubborn piece of ectoplasm. Why was it not coming off? Maybe he should add more peroxide to the cleaning mixture?

He started making his way to the bucket and cleaning supplies laying on a counter in the corner of the lab, but was stopped when Jazz moved to stand in his way.

‘’When are you going to tell Tucker about your feelings?’’ she asked with a pointed look, arms crossed over her chest.

Ah, cutting straight to the chase. She was probably making sure to not give him any chance of running off again. Though it’s not like he would run off this time. He had to clean this god forsaken lab and she knew that. It was exactly why she came down to torment him right now when he couldn’t leave.

Only thing left to do was play dumb.

‘’Who’s Tucker?’’

Okay, not that dumb.

Judging by the flat stare he received from her, Jazz was not amused by that answer either.

‘’I don’t know what you’re talking about.’’ he tried again and made a point to not look at her while he swiftly slipped by to get to his bucket. ‘’I don’t have any feelings. None at all. Ask mom and dad, they’ll agree.’’

‘’You’re not fooling anyone, little brother.’’

He knew that very well. He knew he was extremely obvious about it, Sam has already pointed it out to him on multiple occasions, thank you very much.

That didn’t mean he would let Jazz meddle though.

‘’Just leave it Jazz, it’s none of your business.’’ he huffed and for a while the lab remained silent. He focused on adding more peroxide into his cleaning mixture instead and …oh great the bottle was empty.

He looked around for something else he could use. There was a can of SpriteTM on dad’s working bench. If it’s carbonated would it bubble like peroxide? He needed something that bubbled right?

Yeah, that sounded about right, it could work.

‘’You should tell him, you know.’’ Ah right, Jazz was still there.

He turned around, ready to tell her to get lost again, but stopped when he saw the look she was giving him. Her gaze was softer than before, a little smile on her face. Almost as if she knew something he didn’t. But behind that was also determination. She was tired of his bullshit and would not let him off the hook this time around.

He sighed loudly, throwing his head back in a dramatic fashion. He put the cleaning rag away knowing that he couldn’t avoid this conversation any longer.

‘’Yes I know.’’ he admitted, still slightly irritated. Taking off the cleaning gloves and throwing them on the counter, he fully faced his sister. ‘’I want to tell him. I’m going to. I’m just… waiting for the right moment.’’

‘’And how long have you been waiting now?’’ she asked raising one of her sharp eyebrows skeptically.

‘’...Since… around the accident?’’

It wasn’t just around the accident. It was specifically on the day of the accident, but she didn’t need to know that. He was supposed to tell Tucker all about his little crush on exactly that day. He often wondered, if the portal didn’t decide to fry him, would he have confessed already? It was the plan after all.

In his defense the accident complicated everything by a lot. Becoming half-ghost was a terrifying experience at first. Not even mentioning all the ghosts that started attacking the town shortly after. There was always something else to worry about.

So yeah he kinda procrastinated confessing his feelings. A little bit. Death does that to a mf.

‘’Danny! That was over a year ago!’’

Okay, he might have procrastinated slightly more than just a little bit. Sue him.

Now it was Jazz’s turn to sigh loudly. She uncrossed her arms and moved to sit on one of the metal tables.

‘’There’s never going to be a right time you know.’’ she said beckoning him to sit beside her.

‘’What?’’ he gruntled, begrudgingly following her lead. They were really going to talk about this while sitting on a table he might get dissected on one day. Joy.

‘’Tell me now’’ she started putting an arm on his shoulder. ‘’when you think of a right moment, what does it entail?’’

‘’What do you mean?’’

‘’What would you call a right moment?’’ she tried again.

He considered her question for a second.

He’d definitely want them to be alone for this. It’s personal after all and he’d rather spare Sam from witnessing this. No matter how many times she said she can be there for him as mental support whenever he gets the guts to do it. (Which he did have, by the way.)

School was unquestionably out. Even when Sam wasn’t with them, there were still plenty of other students around. Not to mention Dash, who would not let him live this down. Besides it was school. Who does this stuff at school?

And their usual after school hang outs weren’t special enough. Like hell was he going to confess in a Nasty Burger. Or what? His stinky bedroom?

The cinema? Well they did go to the cinema often, but they went there to watch the movies. And after the movie ended it was time to either have an excited geek out session over it or diss it entirely. No good time for deep conversations.

During fights was obviously also a big no-no. After the fights? They hated their existence after fights. (At least Danny did.) He also often got hurt during those and sometimes Tucker got to tend to his wounds and-

Yeah, after fights was not the right time.

‘’Can’t think of anything, little brother?’’ Jazz’s sudden soft giggles brought him out of his thoughts.

He focused on her. He was sure he looked like a lost puppy at that moment.

Whenever he thought of the right moment he always saw some abstract concept. Something along the lines of you’ll know when it happens. Tucker was important to him, he deserved the best god damn confession. A perfect one, like in those romantic movies they watched sometimes in secret.

But as crazy as his life may be, it wasn’t a movie. And now that he thought about this from the perspective of actual real life…

‘’No moment will ever feel right, Danny. I know you’re scared-’’

‘’I’m not scared.’’ he reacted on instinct.

‘’-but open communication is very important, not only in romantic relationships, but in platonic ones as well.’’ she stood up from the table to stand in front of him instead. Putting both of her hands on his shoulders, she continued;

‘’If you want your friendship with Tucker to be healthy you need to talk to him about your feelings. No matter if he feels the same way or not. You can’t put it off forever.’’

He wasn’t going to put it off forever. Only until the right moment. Which apparently might never exist.

‘’You just have to do it.’’ she shook him a bit for emphasis.

Danny scrunched his face and looked away. He hated when she was right.

He did just have to do it.

He still wasn’t going to do this at school or the Nasty Burger though. He had some dignity.

It wasn’t until a few days later when a true occasion presented itself.

It was a Saturday, he and Tucker decided to sneak some of his parents' inventions up to his room. Finally try to find some way of making them ignore his ecto-signature like they did with the specter deflector. It was way overdue at this point.

It would be very nice to not get attacked by his own parents for once. Plus Tucker looked cute while he worked. Danny almost got his fingers caught in the lock of one of the guns while staring at him with his tongue out in concentration. He always did that when focused hard on a task. Idiot.

Danny even had a thought to confess right at that moment, but they were actually doing something important. He couldn’t interrupt their work, right?

Yeah, exactly. He could tell him later.

With that in mind he continued unscrewing another metal plate from yet another device before handing it to Tucker, who worked his hacking magic.

They didn’t even notice that it got late, too invested in their work. The sun had long set when they sneaked the last of the updated equipment back into the lab. Danny offered Tucker to just stay the night over if he’d like and after a quick call to his parents they were pulling out the inflatable mattress.

‘’I swear to god whoever lost our pump will pay for this.’’ Danny ranted before taking a deep breath and continuing to blow up the mattress. No one in this family has seen that god forsaken pump in years now. His parents always said they’re gonna buy a new one, but no one remembered to do that until the mattress was needed again. Which was always too late.

Actually, how did his inventor parents not have a pump in the lab?

All this blowing was making him dizzy. He paused and took a look at the barely half blown mattress spread across his lap and the floor. This was going to take ages.

The fact that Tucker was laughing at his misery didn’t make it any better.

‘’Don’t faint on me dude.’’ he chuckled from his position on the bed. He was watching Danny struggle while scrolling on his phone and refused to help him whatsoever. ‘’You’ve got so pale in the past 5 minutes, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.’’

Danny would punch him if he didn’t think that his giggles were adorable. And also because he was wearing glasses. You don’t punch people with glasses.

‘’Actually, why am I doing this?’’ he asked instead, raising the corpse of a mattress by its valve. ‘’It’s your bed for today.’’

‘’Because if you don’t provide me with a comfy place to sleep I’ll just steal yours.’’ he said that while cuddling up to Danny’s pillow like it belonged to him. ‘’But here, I can help you stay awake.’’ with an evil grin he shoved his socked foot right in front of Danny’s nose.

‘’wHa- DUDE-’’ Danny yelled startled. It reeked so bad. ‘’Get it out of my face, do you want me to fully die?’’ he pushed the foot away but Tucker just moved it back in front of his face. While Danny was busy wrestling with his leg, he swiftly took off his other sock and threw it at him unexpectedly missing his head by an inch.

Nevermind the glasses. This was clearly a declaration of war.

Danny turned intangible to phase through the attacks. The moment Tucker realized what was going on he retreated, rolling off the bed from the other side. He barely managed to escape before Danny threw himself on the bed sheets that Tucker was occupying just a second ago.

‘’CHEATER!’’ Tucker screeched while he scrambled to his feet. He ran to the desk chair and put it in between them like a shield. As if that could stop someone who can phase through solid matter.

Actually, in this house it was quite a safe assumption to have. Nevermind.

Danny was about to give chase, but stopped when out of the corner of his eye he spotted something laying on the bed.

‘’Oh no, would you look at that.’’ he said smugly, picking up Tucker’s beloved phone and showing it to him. ‘’What’s this?’’

‘’...No..’’ Tucker’s eyes widened at the sight of his poor little electronic device in the hands of enemy.

‘’Looks like your phone…’’ Danny teasingly turned the phone in his hand as if studying it.

‘’Danny...’’’

‘’Would be a shame if someone… hm I don’t know… posted something embarrassing onto your techno geek forums…’’

‘’You wouldn’t dare…’’

Danny just smirked at him and started unlocking the screen. Honestly Tucker did this to himself by letting Danny know what his passcode was. And by sticking his stinky sock into his face.

‘’NO.’’

Before he even managed to sneak a glance at Tucker’s unlocked phone he was being tackled by his best friend. He stretched the arm holding the phone out and used the other one to keep Tucker from reaching out.

‘’Give it back!’’

‘’No, I don’t think so.’’ he laughed. He had half a mind to phase the phone into the wall, but before he got to do it Tucker jabbed him in the hips. Hard.

His grip on the phone faltered for a small second, but it was just enough for the other boy to steal it back.

‘’HA! I WIN!’’ he threw his hands out in victory and started coddling his phone. ‘’Don’t worry my sweet child. I won’t let that menace touch you ever again.’’ He didn’t even notice that he was pretty much sitting on said menace’s lap.

Danny did notice though. He felt his cheeks warm up while he stared up at his best friend.

Should he say it now?

…

But they were having fun right now. He can’t do it while they’re having fun. What if Tucker didn’t feel like having a serious conversation right now? It was silly goofy time…

But it was always either silly goofy time or serious ghost related issue time…

So was this a right moment after all?

It didn’t feel quite right.

No moment will ever feel right, Danny. His sister’s annoying voice rang out in his head.

Right.

‘’Uh… Tuck-.’’ he tried, but no more words came out as his throat closed up. He could hear how his heart started beating faster. His core following right after by vibrating uncomfortably out of sync. A sudden and unexpected dread overcame him out of nowhere.

What the hell.

‘’Yeah?’’ Tucker looked down at him finally realizing what position they were in. He blushed as well and quickly moved to sit beside him instead.

Danny barely noticed though. He still struggled with finding his voice, not understanding what was wrong.

Why couldn’t he just say it? He wanted to tell Tucker. He always planned on doing it. He wasn’t afraid to tell him about his feelings.

…right?

‘’Uh… Danny? You good man?’’ he heard him ask. His voice was filled with concern. Danny would feel bad for making him worry if he wasn’t busy trying to sort out his feelings.

Tucker was very important to him. That’s why he always waited for a perfect moment to confess. But he knew he could do it at any time. He wasn’t afraid to say it out loud.

Or that’s what he thought at least.

He realized now that waiting felt like a shelter. He didn’t have to worry about Tucker’s reaction if he just waited for the right moment. He didn’t have to fret change or be anxious over losing what they had if he just waited instead of fessing up.

Nothing would ever change if he put it off forever.

‘’You’re actually scaring me man.’’

Danny’s eyes focused back on Tucker. He was staring right back at him worriedly.

‘’Yeah- uh.’’ he cleared his throat. He felt like he was about to throw up, but at least he could speak again. ‘’I just… realized something.’’ Danny said, slowly raising into a sitting position.

‘’Are you okay?’’

Danny looked at his best friend and for the first time wondered if there’s even a slight possibility that he likes him back. Sometimes it felt like he did, but he wasn’t so sure now.

He never dared to think about it much. Maybe that’s what helped him keep his confidence for so long. He always knew they would be fine no matter what. They were best friends for goodness sake. Some silly feelings weren’t going to ruin that.

…

…Right?

…

Jazz was right. He was scared.

‘’Danny?’’

But she was also right when she said that he just needs to do it. He can’t hide it forever. It wouldn’t be fair to Tucker. Just say it out loud. Rip the bandaid off. Now or never.

Just look him in the eyes and say ‘’I like you.’’

…

Wait shit he actually said it out loud.

‘’What?’’

Danny quickly hid his face in his hands. Curse his impulsiveness. He didn't get to overthink it fully yet!

The room was quiet. It felt like neither of them were breathing. Which Danny probably actually wasn’t, since he didn’t need to. It was hard to tell when the silence slowly suffocated him.

He had to finish what he had started though. He was a big boy, he could do it.

After what felt like years, but was probably only a minute, Danny finally took a deep breath and lifted his head.

‘’I like you.’’ he repeated with a little more confidence. It took a lot to stop his voice from shaking. ‘’As in… you know.’’

He chanced glancing at Tucker’s face and saw his friend’s shocked expression. His mouth agape and eyes wide staring right back at him.

Danny looked away.

‘’What?’’ Tucker asked again softly, cocking his head to the side.

‘’It’s fine if you don’t feel the same way I just- I just needed to say it because well I-’’ he was interrupted before he could stutter any more.

‘’No. No no no. It's fine, I just….’’ a quick glance back at Tucker made it clear that he was unsure of what to say as well ‘’...You just surprised me, is all. Did you… realize this now or…?’’

‘’Pft. No.’’ he said like it was obvious. ‘’… I… I’ve- uhm it’s been like this for a while and I.. I wanted to tell you for a while too, but… turns out I was scared. And that’s what I realized now.’’ he explained lamely.

‘’You realized you were scared to tell me…now?’’

‘’Yeah.’’

‘’And right after realizing you were scared… you went ahead and did it…?’’

‘’...Yeah..’’

‘’What.’’ Tucker laughed a little bit. ‘’You’re dumb.’’

Danny didn’t waste a second throwing a pillow at his face. ‘’You’re dumb.’’

Tucker laughed a little bit more, but Danny could hear a slight nervousness in his voice. They were quiet for another second, but it was only getting more awkward again.

He told him. It took all his courage (or more like impulse) to say it out loud and he did. What else was he supposed to do? This was not how he imagined it to go at all. He was supposed to be confident god damn it.

Tucker looked like he wanted to say something, but struggled. Great, Danny made him uncomfortable.

Good job, Fenton. You ruined it.

It was time for his favorite coping mechanism. Ignore it and pretend nothing happened.

‘’Anyway… uh… gotta finish …with the mattress.’’ he started climbing out of bed, picking up the abandoned piece of vinyl monstrosity.

Tucker didn’t say anything. He just continued looking at him as Danny sat down on the floor, back turned to the bed, so he didn’t have to look at him.

It was another few minutes of silence. The only sound being Danny slowly blowing up the mattress and some small fidgets from Tucker.

Ancients, he shouldn’t have said anything. Should’ve just kept it to himself. And now Tucker had to spend an entire night here too. Should he offer him an escape? Offer to fly him home so he doesn’t have to be here and be awkward with Danny? Or would that be more awkward?

Really he should’ve at least waited until morning. No such thing as the right moment, screw you Jazz. He could think of at least 3 better moments than this.

‘’Danny?’’ Tucker said weakly. Danny flinched a little bit at the sound of his voice, but slowly turned around to face him.

‘’Yeah?’’

They once again stared at each other for a while. This time Tucker broke eye contact first.

‘’I-uhm… like you too…’’

…

What.

It was Danny’s turn to be shocked. He just continued staring. Blinking. Absolutely dumbfounded.

‘’Oh. Uh… Cool.’’ he replied like an idiot.

Tucker nodded slowly, gaze still directed elsewhere.

‘’Yeah…uh… cool.’’

A pause.

Tucker picked on his fingernails.

Danny played with the valve of the mattress.

They heard a car drive past, right under the opened window outside. A muted explosion sounded from the lab.

The phone they were previously fighting over chimed with a new notification.

‘’God this is so awkward.’’ Tucker muttered, followed by another nervous laugh.

‘’I KNOOOW.’’ Danny whined, slamming his head face first onto the bed. He dropped the mattress to tug at his hair.

‘’Why are we so awkward?’’ Tucker asked. Danny could hear him anxiously playing with the bedsheets now.

He lifted his head back up, putting his chin on the bed instead.

‘’I don’t know man.’’

It turned out he didn’t screw up after all. Apparently they both liked each other.

He felt relief flooding him when his brain finally registered what this meant. His heart was still beating loudly in his chest, but at least the vibrations of his core became softer. Almost like a very quiet purring.

He liked him back. They liked each other back.

So why were they being so awkward about it? Both of them knew now how the other felt. It shouldn’t be awkward anymore.

But on the other hand both of them were also clueless nerds with little to no experience in dating, too shy and afraid to initiate anything.

At least they were afraid together.

Danny took a chance and very slowly reached his hand out to Tucker’s. The other boy flinched a bit when their shaky hands made contact, but instead of retreating he just awkwardly adjusted the position, so they were softly holding hands.

Danny smiled at Tucker and he smiled back.

It was something new for them both, but they’ll be fine. They’ll figure this out at their own pace. Small steps and all.

Before Danny could voice his thoughts Tucker pulled on his hand and pushed his sock under his nose again, laughing maniacally.

‘’EW TUCKER. Way to ruin the moment!’’ Danny yelled laughing and threw himself on the other boy.

‘’You were being too awkward!’’

‘’Says Mr. Confidence!’’

Yeah, they will definitely be just fine.

They wrestled again. Maybe it was still a bit awkward. Maybe they were more aware of the other's movement or where and how they touched. But it was fine. Danny felt like a huge weight had been lifted off of his chest. And judging by the genuine smile on Tucker’s face the feeling was mutual.

When they got tired of playing around, they laid down on the bed and talked a bit more under the cover of darkness with Danny’s glow in the dark stars acting as a source of light. (They’ve had so many sleepovers at his house that even Tucker learned to ignore the big, bright FentonWorksTM sign casting neon light from the window by now. Only the stars mattered.)

They fell asleep like that, the god forsaken half-inflated mattress laying forgotten on the floor.

And when they woke up the next morning, cuddled up to each other, everything finally felt right.

…

‘’Dude, is that you purring?’’ Tucker gave a half suppressed laugh. Danny only hit him with a pillow in response.

#take a shot every time a right moment is mentioned #kad writes #thats a new tag #danny phantom #savant par #phic phight 2023

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liana-kerzner-is-a-narcissist · 1 year

Text

Liana Kerzner aka redlianak aka It’s Not Therapy tried to provoke this trans woman to suicide.

I am a trans woman living in Ontario, and while I am deeply tired of literally everyone wanting my existence to end… there is one person in particular who actively tried to drive me to suicide. That person is Liana Kerzner. What Liana put me through… no person should ever have to go through.

Writing this post is the opposite of easy. But I am tired of keeping all of this inside and I am tired of seeing awful people scam others out of thousands of dollars when the rest of us have to struggle just to survive and make ends meet.

My trans siblings — Liana Kerzner is NOT our ally. She may be the enemy of our enemy, but she is not our friend, no matter how she seems to be acting on our behalf or how much she seems to care about us. (Seems is the key word there, by the way.)

Liana Kerzner is a masterful narcissistic liar and manipulator who is very good at pretending to care about others, because she likes to use other people. By suddenly being “all in” for trans rights, she is performatively jumping on being vocal about supporting trans folks at best. At worst, she is actively looking for more vulnerable people to exploit through her massive Twitter reach. I know her tricks well, because I was once one of those vulnerable people that Liana Kerzner knowingly took advantage of and caused harm to.

And with Liana Kerzner now masquerading as someone who “cares” about trans folk, and who uses her large Twitter platform to collect followers (ie funders for her next vanity project), I knew I had to say something before she exploits or harms anyone else like she did to myself and many others*.

See, I knew Liana and her husband Steven personally. I knew them before I found myself and claimed the woman I always knew I was, and at one point I was naive enough to think that we were actually friends, that they cared about me as a person. But that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

In fact, when we were “friends” Liana exploited me for free labor for a number of months for one of her vanity projects. But at the time, I was happy to help out a person who I thought was a friend and I didn’t think to question what she asked of me to do (or to ask to be paid for my work) especially because it started out with her asking for very small things. Liana made it seem like she really needed my help and that she thought I was brilliant; she did all of the tricks that narcissists do when they groom you.

This was also around the time that I was starting to grapple with who I really was, and I wasn’t in the best headspace overall. Liana was someone I confided in about what I was thinking and going through, and she convinced me that I “was confused” and should go on anti-depressants instead of looking more into transitioning. Any time I was having a rough day and needed to talk, we would talk about me and where I was at for maybe 5–10 minutes… but then Liana would complain to me for hours about various people who had apparently wronged her, were out to get her, all of it. People who “did her wrong”. Even knowing what I was going through, she kept saying things like “Oh you’re a man, you don’t know what it’s like for women like me.” We would be chatting on Skype and I know she could see my face fall, and yet she kept saying stuff like this to me about how “manly” I was, all of it. Liana refused to recognize that I was a scared little girl inside a body I hated and felt trapped in, or perhaps she was actively taking joy in knowing how upset her comments made me. I honestly don’t know.

I was naive enough to believe that Liana Kerzner was a good person who was being hurt, instead of recognizing that Liana was in fact the predator who was knowingly causing harm to these other people.

While we were “friends”, and while she never came out and told me to do this for her, there are a handful of people who Liana manipulated me into harassing on her behalf. More than once, Liana had me write and send some nasty emails — ones she demanded to proofread before I sent — to people who she was having disagreements with. Or, in her words, people who were “out to ruin her reputation”. I was also once asked to speak to police on Liana’s behalf and corroborate that Liana was ‘being stalked and harassed’ by a certain person, when I had never actually witnessed any of this behavior from the person she claimed was stalking her. (Police scare me, so I declined. Liana was not happy about this.) Liana also wanted me to back her up when she “had to” make a complaint about supposed sexual harassment by a male friend of hers, claiming that she suddenly feared for her safety with this man — again, meanwhile, I had never seen any of this kind of behavior from him. Not with her, not with any woman. This is what narcissists do, they get others to act on their behalf so they don’t have to get her own hands dirty.

Every month or so, it seemed like Liana had a falling out with someone new; at one point this included her own young nephew and his parents. (These are the same people she started her failed NYE Event Futurecon for, btw.) In hindsight, I’m certain that these people who “had it out for her” were simply, rightfully standing up to Liana’s bullshit and manipulations.

Over time, the unpaid labor or “favors” that Liana asked for got bigger, including some things she wanted me to “borrow” from my day job for her benefit. (Unpaid, of course.) This was also around the time that I decided to come off the anti-depressants and begin transitioning for real. I was scared of so much back then — scared nobody would love me, scared of how my friends and family would take the news, scared of how my workplace would treat me, all of it. Liana knew about my fears and insecurities, because I told her.

And she used it all against me.

The first time I said no to doing an (unpaid) favor for her, she called up my workplace and outed me to my boss. This was long before I was ready to share the news publicly about the woman I was becoming. Not only did this lead to some very awkward workplace conversations about “employee appropriateness” (whatever that even means, ugh)… Liana began to call me at my workplace regularly to scream at me for “letting her down”. Eventually, her harassment of me led to me getting fired.

Then, as I was trying to distance myself from her, one day I got a harassing phone call about an item I had apparently “stolen” from Liana; it was demanded that I return it or pay the replacement item cost, which was quite expensive. Not only did I never steal anything from Liana, this incident happened at a time when I was jobless so I was barely covering my rent and bills. In this phone call, I was verbally threatened that I might face criminal charges, I might go to jail, or be sued… all for something I didn’t do. And the person that I spoke with made sure to tell me that I would be “put with other men where I belong”. Yeah.

I also got harassing emails on Liana’s behalf from her husband Steven Kerzner, who threatened me with lines like “as long as you don’t speak ill of my wife, we won’t have to tell the truth about who you are and what you’ve done.” Basically… trying to threaten me into never saying anything about the hell that Liana Kerzner put me through and the lies she was spreading about me.

A friend very kindly let me know that the Kerzners were also going behind my back, calling mutual acquaintances and telling them that I was mentally unstable, that I was becoming violent, that I should no longer be invited to certain events we were both planning on attending, etc. It was all lies, but this social exclusion and the rumor mill went on for months. I watched people who I thought were friends fall off one by one because of the Kerzners manipulation, threats, and lies.

Through this all, Liana Kerzner repeatedly and actively lied about me to many other people, claiming that I was a pedophile, that I was trying to groom young kids — the same anti-trans rhetoric you see other people using now.

Liana Kerzner also tried to get me committed to a psych ward, with other lies about my mental health and that she was worried I was “a danger to others and myself” and that I was having “delusions” of being a woman because I was “sexually attracted to her and acting out”. (She tried something here in Canada that is called a form one) She tried have me placed under psychiatric evaluation with her blatant lies… ultimately, all for being trans. And for daring to finally stand up to her narcissistic abuse when I couldn’t take any more.

I also got some threatening and harassing emails from other friends of Liana’s, a couple of which called me a “man in a dress” and explicitly told me to kill myself, that the world would be better without trash like me. I won’t repeat everything that was said, but it was a lot. Especially back then.

Liana Kerzner is a liar, a narcissist, a bully, and someone who knows how to quite skillfully manipulate those around her, including lying to the legal system and lying to doctors, to get them to harass and abuse others on her behalf.

There’s more I could tell you about too, but it all boils down to the same thing… Liana Kerzner is only pro-trans rights to suit her own agenda. At her core, she is still deeply transphobic , toxic, and abusive. She’s just good at hiding it.

Her usual MO is to either get people to give her money (ie Patreon, Ko-fi, Kickstarter, etc) and/or to get people to do favors for her for free… despite the Kerzners being rather well off, apparently.

What I will say in closing is this… Liana can keep up the charade of being your “friend” for years, but ultimately she is cruel and manipulative. Liana Kerzner will say and do anything she can to get what she wants out of people — including pretending to be a trans ally so that people like you and me will confide in her, and be willing to pay her money for her “not therapy” bullshit, aka Liana Kerzner’s newest grift.

If you value your own mental and physical health, don’t let Liana Kerzner manipulate you. Take it from someone who has been there, and who has been through that particular hell.

Get as far away from Liana Kerzner’s fake-nice narcissistic manipulation as fast as you can.

*Footnotes:

*Emily Schooley is a brave woman and survivor of domestic violence whom Liana Kerzner has been jealously and maliciously smearing for well over a decade now.

While there’s tens if not hundreds of us who have received the “Special K” treatment from Liana, Emily is the only person brave enough to speak the truth publicly about Liana with her own name, because Liana likes to: make false police reports about, send harassing emails to, get her minions to harass, or threaten legal action on anyone who speaks out about the abuses she perpetuates.

I’m probably going to get more harassment from Liana Kerzner just for posting this, even though my name is not attached to this post, but Emily Schooley’s bravery and vulnerability in sharing what Liana Kerzner put her through is part of what inspired me to stand up and speak my truth too.

https://www.tumblr.com/liana-k-truth — someone else put this list together of some of the many people Liana has knowingly harmed and some of the other problems Liana has caused over the years. It’s well worth the read.

https://futurec0n.wordpress.com/ — some other people Liana Kerzner has harassed and caused harm to

#transgender #liana kerzner #liana k #twitch streamer #narcissistic abuse #transphobes #transphobia #misogyny #canadian youtuber #redlianak #problematic people

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ash-and-books · 3 months

Text

Rating: 2/5

Book blurb:

Unforgettable, snarky, and romantic, I Hope This Doesn't Find You is Never Have I Ever meets To All the Boys I've Loved Before if Lara Jean wrote hate emails instead of love letters.

Sadie Wen is perfect on paper: school captain, valedictorian, and a "pleasure to have in class." It’s not easy, but she has a trick to keep her model-student smile plastered on her face at all times: she channels all her frustrations into her email drafts. She'd never send them of course -- she'd rather die than hurt anyone's feelings -- but it's a relief to let loose on her power-hungry English teacher or a freeloading classmate taking credit for Sadie's work.

All her most vehemently worded emails are directed at her infuriating cocaptain, Julius Gong, whose arrogance and competitive streak have irked Sadie since they were kids. "You're attention starved and self-obsessed and unbearably vain . . . I really hope your comb breaks and you run out of whatever expensive hair products you've been using to make your hair appear deceptively soft . . ."

Sadie doesn't have to hold back in her emails, because nobody will ever read them . . . that is, until they're accidentally sent out.

Overnight, Sadie’s carefully crafted, conflict-free life is turned upside down. It's her worst nightmare -- now everyone at school knows what she really thinks of them, and they're not afraid to tell her what they really think of her either. But amidst the chaos, there's one person growing to appreciate the "real" Sadie -- Julius, the only boy she's sworn to hate . . . .

Review:

Rival academics with a touch of To All the Boys I've Loved Before in this story about a girl who's emails about her rival and the entire school are sent... and now she has to deal with the fall out of it as well as possibly falling for the one guy she never thought she would. For 10 years Sadie Wen and Julius Gong have been competing against each other. They've made everyone at school's life a bit difficult with their extreme need to beat each other. Sadie hates Julius, she hates how perfect he is, how handsome he is, how smart and mean he is. The only way to vent her angry? Draft up emails to him and everyone else whenever they make her angry... except now suddenly all those emails have been sent out. Now everyone is getting to see the real Sadie, and the careful "perfect" image of herself is going up in flames. Yet one person seems to appreciate the real her... and it's none other than Julius. The more Julius and Sadie begin to talk to each other after the truth is revealed the more complicated the feelings begin to grow and Sadie is starting to realize that maybe the boy she's been obsessively trying to beat... the one person who is constantly on her mind might be the perfect person for her. This one was meh for me, I had really high hopes for it but it kind of fell flat unfortunately. I just couldn't really vibe with Sadie and the situations she ended up in just didn't make sense. Sadie is suppose to be super intelligent but can't even keep a diary or oh I dont know, a word doc of letters but saved a ton of draft emails and then doesn't make sure that they are properly locked up and can't be sent? I don't believe it. Also she goes from being outspoken and to being walked over by people, she'll want to out do Julius but never speaks out about people using her and letting herself be a pushover to please people? Pick a lane girl, either you can stand up for yourself and are a go getter or a timid people pleaser. Also the romance with Julius barely even felt there and I love academical rivals to lovers stories. It literally barely happens by the end of the book. I wish I liked this book more, it had the elements of all the things I usually love, but it just missed the mark for me sadly. If you enjoy academic rivals to lovers give this one a go, maybe you'll have a better time with it than I did.

*Thanks Netgalley and Scholastic, Scholastic Press for sending me an arc in exchange for an honest review*

#book review #bookish #book #i hope this doesn't find you

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werewolfcave · 2 years

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OH BOY PACI YOU DONT KNOW WHAT YOU UNLEASHED BY TELLING ME TO TALK ABOUT VUL AND TURE IN YOUR INBOX!!!!

oKAY SO!!! it starts like how all things in gods below start: with the goddess. So the goddess has just been created and she makes the world and humans and animals and beasts and everything and she goes you know what would be fun? if I just started killing everything I just made! so she does! but here's the thing! when you start killing stuff, they arent going to worship you anymore and instead are going to fear you! so the humans begin fighting back and stop giving the goddess gifts and she throws a tantrum about it before deciding that the only sane thing to do is to make a new form that looks very similar to a human and pretends to kill her true form and it works! humanity begins to worship her again!

a couple hundred years pass and the goddess is like "damn... im super fuckin bored again and i cant just kill people like last time" so she does what anyone in her situation would do and makes a new sentient species that just kills people so she can watch them slaughter cause its funny then calls them servants. because its totally not a red flag when your god makes servants that just kill you for funsies. theres plenty of servants, with them being divided into two types. magic type, and physical type. those are pretty easy to understand methinks but the gist is just that magic types are good at killing with spells and physical types are good at killing with their physical bodies. aditionally, all servants are created in sibling pairs who's names make up one full bird name (some examples are buzz and ard, as well as spar and row). these sibling pairs are made up of one of each type, although which one isnt always consistent, and sibling pairs dont have to be set genders. if one member of a pair dies, the remaining one will take on the rest of their name and make it just the bird name (an example of this is parrot who was previously named rot until they lost their sibling to humans that fought back)

of the servents, one sibling pair created with much more power than the rest quickly rise to power. These servants are vul and ture. vul is their magic type and ture is their physical type. The two were incredibly close, and their combined power was able to slaughter entire armies in only an hour. They rule as the princess and prince of the servants until the events that end arc one of gods below.

you see, because the servants were created to be scapegoats, the humans didn't know they were linked to the goddess. eventually, being the scapegoat makes ture upset, as he's sick of being treated like shit by the people while they still worship his creator and he begins to work on a revolution. unlike ture, however, his sister, vul, is still a blind follower of the goddess. this loyalty eventually morphs into a crush, and the goddess immediately takes advantage of this.

the goddess convinces vul that she can tell her anything and that the goddess cares about her more than anyone else and vul is constantly manipulated and lied to by the goddess. this is the start of a horrible relationship, and one of many in gods below that include the goddess unfortunately.

ture goes to his sister to tell her about the rebellion, but vul refuses to believe, insisting that the goddess is really a good person and that theres a reason for everything that she does. ture tries to concince his sister of the goddess being literally the worst and tell her about how the goddess is simply using her, but vul refuses to believe. ture gives an ultimatum, join the rebellion, or he will kill her, but he does make it obvious that he really doesnt want to kill vul.

so, vul tells the goddess about ture's rebellion ahd the goddess goes "okay so im gonna make these two fight to the death! sweet!"

so the goddess tells vul that if she fights her brother for her (which she doesn’t need to do because the goddess is A FUCKING GOD) then she will make vul a god and then the two will get married so that vul will be her queen. Vul accepts, but on the condition that HE gets to be the goddess’ KING instead. The goddess agrees because she's the worst bisexual ever.

vul and ture fight, and ture tells vul that this will only hurt him in the long run and that he should just step aside. vul does not, and the fight continues.

ture starts winning easily because while both are p tanky and stuff, vul does not stand a change in a physical fight with his brother because ture is more physical powerful, whereas vul is more magically powerful.

ture is winning, and is about to kill vul, but he hesitates. thats his sibling. he doesnt think defeating the goddess be worth it without him. vul takes the opportunity to seal him away and end the battle

now that ture is gone, the goddess is like "haha thank you babe <3 (i do not love you) i love you so much (i will abuse you) we will be such a good couple (we will not)" and transforms vul into a god, giving him a similar form to her goddess form and then they get married and proceed to have the worst marriage ever.

this is the end of arc one! there is more but i will get to those in the next few asks!

-of course it starts with the goddess it always does

-faking your death #justgirlythings

-oh boy! Servants that Kill!!

-oooohh so they're all named like that okay cool cool cool

-Kinda banger to be named Rot

-Of fucking course they're scapegoats

-oh yay!!! Revolution!!!!

-Yippee!!!! Toxic relationships

-ULTIMATUM

-death matches it's always death matches

-OH GOD OH FUCK VUL VUL ITS A TRAP VUL GODHOOD IS A PRISON AND ONLY THE GODDESS CAN ESCAPE OH GOD VUL CANT HEAR US THEY HAVE AIRPODS IN

-Trans rights tho I guess

-the old bait and seal

#replyin to y'all #terrified that this is only ask one of four

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semi-imaginary-place · 2 years

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*hacker voice* im in. i started watching our flag means death. time to see what all the hubub over th gay pirate show is about.

ep1: me googling our flag means death characters. *squints* there’s no way that actor for stede is 29 years old. eh or i could just throw the wiki out and imagine he’s another dude having a midlife crisis. missed his calling as a middle school art teacher. me: *points and yells* deadbeat dad!

ep4: excellent he’s as weird as stede. pfffft the show runners decided to dress blackbeard in a black leather tube. what is he wearing. the worst part is knowing there are people on the internet actually swooning for this. well i suppose it doesn’t matter all that much that stede ran away given mary was already carrying the family on her back by herself. neglectful af, so self absorbed he doesn’t notice anyone else. MARY!!! she’s trying so hard to make the most of things! she’s trying so hard. (unlike some one.) and she’s getting stonewalled at every turn, for years because stede can only see his problems and his emotions and no one else’s. i'd say at least he left her the money but A. the land was her family's to begin with and B. wasnt it illegal for british women to own property as some point in the past. ...they’re LARPing are each other... i feel worse for izzy by the minute.

ep5: wow this show really went: the only thing worse than the british: the french. omg literal hello i am the prince of egypt i need your help in retrieving my lost fortune with just 2000$ from you i will be able to pay you back 10 million. glad our idiot lost it in the end those those who the wealth would be better in the hands of.

ep6: what happened to the entire ship of blackbead? ed and izzy discussed faking his death and izzy becomign captain but izzy is still here. also where’s the physical ship?

oh wow everyone in this show is getting a boyfriend huh.

im sorry to say but your pirate fav washes his hands after using the bathroom. none of them do

in case you all didn’t get it. all stede’s talk of communication and emotional support is an act to convince himself that he is emotionally well. Its a lie in the sense that not really true but he want to believe it and maybe if stede repeats it enough he can make it true. all the postering in the early episodes is steve trying to project the persona of the person he wants to be. kind, emotionally healthy, respected, loved which he isnt really at the start of the series. but by acting out the things a compassionate person should do, he is compassionate and earns some fondness from his crew

ep9: contract signed by a dead man huh? sounds like it’d make good kindling. good that stede’s finding closure for his guilt and all but mary is totally better off with him legally dead. gods just let her be free of this burden.

ep10: SHE WAS HAPPY. HER PAINTING WAS GOING WELL!!. they really should have gotten separate beds years ago they’re rich enough for it. stede’s luck mary didn’t build another house and take the kids to live there. yuup everyone’s pairing off and getting a boyfriend. might be easier to say who doesn’t have a boyfriend. oh look someone who’s supportive of mary and encouraging of her painting. i don’t blame mary for getting a boyfriend but she should have just told stede so they could reach a mutual understanding about the gap between their legal status and their personal relationship instead of going behind his back. stede thought that as long as he fixed his guilt over leaving everything would work out. magical thinking. but he never thought of the actual people he left behind. stede thinks he’s the main character of the universe. “decided to unabandon your family on a whim” she’s so right. ah and all it took to get them to talk was a little attempted murder.

ah yes what is a little mutilation of the homeboys to assert control over one’s life. yeah seriously what happened to that whole other ship and crew blackbeard had.

well i guess that was that. fairly entertaining. i see why people like it, though a good chunk of its popularity on tumblr is probably because of the shipping material (pun intended). it was fine but it didn’t resonate or wow me. i do think it was funny how people just kept showing up on the boat even though its supposedly at sea.

#our flag means death

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shurisneakers · 3 years

Note

if you're taking ideas for harmless drabbles, i'd love to see one of bucky on one of those dates he mentioned and reader's shenanigans. if you aren't, feel free to ignore this!

a/n: are we really going to let a word limit define what a drabble is? is the vibe and spirit not enough? i say this bc this is 5.7k words long im so sorry. also hey thank you to everyone who piped in with their knowledge of violent geese and how apartment security works in new york!! also thanks to my bby @spiderrpcrker for reading this and telling me to publish this bc i wasnt going to fkjghfkj

warning: swearing, bad luck, dates, frustrated bucky, anxiety, mentions of gore but like only a sentence

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Catch up with the rest of the series here: Harmless Masterlist

Bucky returns only two weeks later. His mission lasted longer than expected and all he wants is to lie down and sleep for forty eight hours straight.

“FRIDAY?” he mumbles, kicking off his shoes. His jacket had already been discarded by his bedroom door when he walked in.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?”

“How are ya?” He doesn’t miss a beat in asking, even though he’s exhausted.

“As good as ever. Did you have a successful mission?”

“If by successful you mean one sprained limb instead of two, then yeah.” He wasn’t really cribbing. His ankle was already starting to heal anyway and it was worth the roundhouse kick to a Nazi's face. “Do I have anything scheduled for this weekend?”

“You have a meeting on your calendar scheduled for this Saturday.”

“Could you send a text to Y/N and ask if we can push it to the next day?” His muscles feel sore and God, he could definitely use a hot shower but all of that becomes secondary the minute he feels the sheets under him.

“Would you like me to reschedule the other one as well?”

“What’s that?” He opens one eye in confusion. “There’s another one?”

“It’s on Sunday. You’ve labelled it ‘date’.”

Ah, fuck.

“Would you like me to change it?” FRIDAY never sounds like she’s judging him, which is nice. It also reminds him about how she, as an AI, can’t judge him, which is a rude wake-up call to how he doesn’t have friends.

“No,” his voice is muffled against the pillow, “no, let it be. Where is it again?”

“You’ve only specified diner, Sergeant Barnes.”

Public space, daytime, plenty of escape routes. Good on his less delirious self for selecting a diner.

“Thanks, FRIDAY.” Now that he’s a little more relaxed, he can feel himself slip in and out of consciousness.

“One last thing," her automated voice commands his attention again. "Y/N replied. She says sure and to take care.”

“Yay.” Not even a second later he’s out like a light.

____

“Did you bring me any souvenirs?” Is the first thing he hears as he marches into your lair.

“What could I possibly get you?”

“A postcard, a t-shirt.” You don’t look up from your tinkering.

“Decapitated finger, used bullets,” he continues, “cement blocks.”

“Ew.” You snap the lid shut on the thing you’re working on, spinning around on your chair. "That's not nearly romantic enough."

“That’s all you’re going to get from a Russian underground bunker.” He does a mini jog up the stairs of the platform to where you are.

“Does the finger have a ring at lea- oh hello?” You raise an eyebrow at the sight of him. “You look different.”

He peers down. The outfit was still all black. As always.

“Not your clothes, dummy,” you interrupt, making him look back at you. “Your face. What’d you do?”

He unconsciously raises a hand to his cheek.

“Did you wash your face? Is that it?” you squint at him. “Has it been a few months since the last time?”

“Wow, you’re so funny,” he drawls sarcastically. “Top tier comedian right there.”

“No wait, it’s the beard.” You snap your fingers in realisation, completely ignoring his comment. “You trimmed it.”

“So what if I did?” He leans on your table.

“You going somewhere?” you ask, elastic snapping against your hands as you remove your gloves.

“It’s none of your busi-”

“Hold on a second.” A sly smile begins to make its way onto your face. “Are you going on a date, Bucky Barnes?”

His comeback dies down in his throat. That didn’t take you very long for you to figure out.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You look smug, to say the least.

“Shut up.” A ray of light glistening distracts him. He traces it to the thing you were working on earlier.

“Where are you guys going?” You cross your arm across your chest, a small smirk on your face.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” It’s a silver box, engraved intricately with swirls that, when he observes carefully, looks like a skull. Wow, terrifying.

“I’m literally asking you.”

“What are those?” He shifts the conversation towards a more productive angle instead.

“Evil in a box and some other stuff.” You shrug offhandedly. “Is it a lunch date or just coffee?”

“Like Pandora’s Box?”

“A discount version, sure,” you confirmed impatiently. “Stop changing the topic, listen to me.”

He tilts his head, waiting for you to continue.

“Do you need a chaperone?” The sincerity in your voice for such a bullshit question has him scoffing.

“Good God- no, I do not need a chaperone. I’m 106 years old, I can go out unsupervised.” He reaches over and plucks the box off your table.

“Sir, you’re a geriatric."

“What are those?” He points to a few ray odd ray guns.

“Minor stuff you don’t have to worry about right now.”

He shakes the box in his hand. “What’s gonna happen if I open this?”

“Very bad things,” you whispered ominously before your volume returns to normal. “How’d you meet this person? Online?”

“She’s Natasha’s friend.” He turns the box over, seeing a small latch at the side. “What bad things?”

“Bad luck and misery. Don’t play with it, it’s dangerous.” You pull the box away from him. “Aw, is it a blind date?”

“Why do you care so much?” he shoots back, tugging the box back towards him.

“Just lookin’ out for you, Bucko,” you huff, adjusting your grip on your device. “Need to keep my favourite senior citizen safe.”

“I have a vibranium arm.” Whose force he could use to grab the box once and for all, but wasn’t. “I think I’ll be fine.”

“What if she has one too, huh? Then what?”

“She doesn’t.” As far as he knows, he’s the only one alive with a metal appendage made out of the strongest metal in the world. That could very well change by tomorrow but he's keeping the title for now.

“But what if she does? I swear to- stop trying to take the box!” You pull a little more forcefully, but he doesn’t relent.

“I want this to get over before this evening.”

“What time’s your date?”

“Why do you care?” He’s sure anyone who saw the dumb tug-of-war you both were playing would just automatically assume he was an absolute manchild, not an Avenger.

“Because.” You don’t explain further. “Tell me what time your date is, you weirdo.”

“Five o’clock, now let go.”

“Fine,” you say, suddenly loosening your grip. Clearly, it doesn't make much of a difference since he isn't struggling to keep his balance from the sudden loss of force.

“Fine.” He clears his throat, straightening up.

You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either.

A putrid smell creeps into his nose, one all too similar to spoiled milk and decaying seaweed. He has to physically stop himself from gagging.

“Have a good day.” You smile and lean far back. Too far. It looks like you're almost going to fall out of the chair.

Through the tears that are threatening to line his eyelids, he looks down at the box whose latch you somehow managed to lift, leaving the box open.

“What the fuck is this?” He coughs, swatting at the air in front of him to clear it.

“I told you; bad luck in a box.”

“You can’t scientifically create bad luck, that’s bullshit.” He tosses the box back onto your table. You watch it slide past you, not making any effort to stop it. “What is it really?”

“I’m not lying.” You pull open a drawer, brandishing a small table fan that you set down beside you. “If you open it, you’re going to have terrible luck for the day.”

He glowers at you when you turn the fan on, forcing the fumes back towards him.

“Besides, that’s all I was doing today.” You kick your feet up. “So you can leave now.”

He doesn’t care if you’re lying about not having anything else to do today. You could burn down the world if you wanted to but he needs to take a stupid shower. Again.

“You’re the fuckin’ worst.” He tries airing out his shirt, hoping that the smell would dissipate as soon as possible.

“Have fun on your date, sarge!” you encourage him as he stalks out of the lair. “Remember to wrap it befo-”

He turns it into a sprint before you can finish.

____

Six hours later and he’s absolutely convinced he fucked up.

He isn’t used to having his weekends free.

He realises that this is the first time in months that he’s actually stepped out of the Tower for something that wasn’t directly mission-related. He should probably get some air. Touch some grass. See the sun.

His shirt thankfully manages to rid itself of the odour from the dumb box so he didn’t have to go take a shower. With nothing much planned and a few hours to spare, he heads to the coffee shop instead.

It’s a small place, bustling and alive with a crowd of people. They have a little bookshelf that usually is full of books donated by patrons, free for anyone to read.

The barista smiles at him. The coffee costs more than his high school education. He awkwardly smiles back.

He’s not a regular, but they’ve seen him enough times to know that he usually asks for black coffee in a to-go cup, later adding a sugar or two according to his own taste. They're nice to him, occasionally throwing in a cookie or something on the house. He can't tell if it's because of the Avenger status or the sizeable tip he leaves.

He picks up a random book from the shelf, fully intending not to read it but to just sit there and think. The book acted as a shield for his resting bitch face, resting murder face and his resting rage face. More often than not, a good combination of the three.

He sets the coffee down at the corner table he manages to nab in a quick second, along with the two sachets of sugar.

“Is this seat taken?” Someone asks from beside him. He earnestly shakes his head in a ‘no’, gesturing for them to take it.

They give him a quick thanks and drag the chair away from his table.

He does a quick overlook of the book he picked up.

The Princess Diaries by Meg Cabot.

Well, now he’s too anxious to put it back. YA fiction it is.

He reaches for the sugar while glossing over the summary. He reaches a little further when it doesn’t come to his hand immediately, blindly running his fingers across the table.

Bucky peeks over the book, eyebrows knitting together when he notices that they’re missing.

He was sure he picked it up.

He looks underneath the table. It wasn’t there, neither under his seat. Strange, but okay. He picks up the book and the cup, walking back to the station to grab two sugars.

This time he makes sure to tuck it into his pocket, double-checking before going back to his table.

Which was now occupied. He wanted to groan.

His mind automatically reverts back to the box from that morning.

“Come on,” he scoffs quietly to himself. It was a coincidence. “Get yourself together.”

“A seat at the counter just cleared up,” the barista from earlier offers when she sees him standing in the middle of the store.

See? Good luck.

He shoots her a grateful look, venturing over to the barstool to take his place. It’s not the most comfortable, but then again, he wasn’t planning to stay there for very long.

He empties the sugar into the coffee, stirring slowly before opening a random page in the book.

He takes a long sip, ignoring how hot the drink was.

He chokes immediately. Because either he was losing his mind or his order had somehow got switched from ‘no sugar’ to ‘diabetes in a cup’.

He takes another small sip and his face immediately twists in disgust. Definitely too sweet. The sweetener he added only made it worse.

He catches the eye of the barista. She looks on in concern.

“Is everything okay?”

Fuck.

He’s not one to make a scene. He just wants to live as imperceptibly as he could.

“Yep.” The sweetness sticks to the back of his throat. “All good.”

He just closes his eyes and downs the rest of it without thinking twice, trying to hide the grimace in his face. He gives her a weak thumbs up. She doesn't look convinced.

He leaves the shop soon after, hands shoved in his pocket. Maybe he could go sit by the lake at Central Park, watch the clouds. It reminded Bucky of the lake in front of his hut in Wakanda and the hours he'd sit in front of it, feet dipped into the water as his goats fed. He misses it.

He makes a sharp turn at a corner, still thinking about his options when his ankle abruptly twists under him.

He stumbles rather ungracefully, almost hitting the ground, but manages to save himself through the newly built up immunity he has towards falling thanks to all his encounters with you.

His gaze lands on his hardcore combat boots. Their laces had come undone.

Now he just knew that was horseshit. He always double knots them; they had never loosened in the past before.

The box.

He shoves the thought out of his head, crouching down to tie them again. He tugs on them to make sure they’re secure before standing up again.

Central Park is a few blocks away but he’s glad he didn’t bring his bike. The weather was rather nice and the wind in his hair felt good.

He wanders around the park for a while, looking for the lake. He pauses at a board with a map of the park on it, assessing how far it was.

Once he's ascertained which path to go towards, he turns on his heel to go.

He fucking trips again.

“Are you serious?” he says furiously under his breath. “Cut it out.”

He’s half-convinced that he should tie it around his ankle like a sexy lace-up set of heels. He ties a triple knot this time, glares at it until he’s sure it’s fine and checks to see if anyone saw him humiliate himself.

Only a person on a nearby bench who looked like they were passed out drunk, given that their hoodie and sunglasses clad self was slumped over.

No witnesses. No 'You won't BELIEVE what the Winter Soldier did! Critics say it's his biggest blunder yet!' articles the next day on social media.

He manages to make it to the lake in one piece and no more falls, partly because he keeps his eyes fixed on his shoes to ensure no fuckery occurs.

There are a few people rowing and plenty of others lining the bank at scattered locations. There’s a mom and her kid at the place he ends up. She sends him a small smile in greeting and he returns the favour.

There’s a secluded bench that he takes a place on, letting out a small sigh. If he ignores the traffic and the skateboarders and the people in general, it’s actually kind of peaceful.

There are geese and their little goslings swimming around the water close to the shore. Maybe he should have brought some birdseed. Or kale.

The kid beside him is busy fashioning something out of leaves, only occasionally erupting into giggles when it doesn't pan out. His mom watches him fondly, pointing at twigs he could use. Everything seems kind of picture-perfect and his body automatically relaxes, easing further into the seat and closing his eyes for a second.

Until there's a large splash and loud distressed honking. He whips his head around to find the same kid staring straight ahead at the goose with a wide grin. His mother curses quietly, picking herself up off the ground and grabbing his hand, half chastising him for throwing something at an animal and half urging him to walk faster.

The goose turns to Bucky. With no one else to blame for the sudden attack, it logically launches itself at him. His smile drops.

He gets up in a rush. The dumb bird nearly comes for his head, but he deflects with his metal arm.

“I didn’t even do anything.” He swats at it swiftly, trying not to cause any real damage. The goose, understandably, does not speak English.

He flinches when one of them bites at his knee. He can punt it to the sun but he doesn’t want to.

“Stop that.” He sticks his hand out to shove the stupid thing away, retreating back to the road. “Jesus, why are you so aggressive?”

Among the barrage of feathers showering on him, he prays his damn shoelace doesn’t unravel as he shields his head with one arm, the other fending himself while he moves hurriedly away.

The goose honks angrily at him. He scowls at it, not exactly pleased with the reminder that these fucking overgrown ducks were constantly bloodthirsty.

It doesn’t leave him alone till he’s significantly away from where he was sitting. He wants to call it profanity but that’d probably piss it off more.

The box and its effects were definitely starting to feel real.

Fuck it, no more day out for him. The best plan he can think of is to just go to the diner he’s supposed to meet his date at.

The waiter greets him with a courteous nod, which Bucky can only imagine was the best he could muster when a dishevelled 200-pound man walks in covered in goose feathers and irritation.

He won't admit that he’s too scared to eat lunch at this point because he can’t rule out food poisoning. He spends the next two hours on his phone playing Fruit Ninja and plucking feathers that accented his all-black outfit.

Several glasses of water later and a second before he’s about to beat his high score, someone taps on his shoulder, breaking him out of his concentration.

Motherfu-

He clenches his eye shut, inhaling deeply before turning around.

“James?”

“Hey, yeah, that’s me.” Bucky almost falls over the table with how fast he stands up, clearly underestimating his size. “Leah?”

“Hi.” She smiles and he finds himself smiling nervously along with her.

“Hi.” He steps out to pull out her chair for her and she laughs. "Nice to meet you."

“How long have you been waiting here?” she asks while setting down her bag.

“Around ten minutes.” He clears his throat to hopefully hide the fact that he was lying through his teeth.

“Just give me a second, I need to tell my friend I reached,” Leah pulls out her phone and he nods.

“Another glass of water for you?” The waiter seems less enthusiastic about Bucky’s 8th refill.

“Yes,” he answers, hoping he doesn’t call him out on it, “please.”

“You must be really dehydrated."

Bucky turns to look at him slowly. “I like the taste.”

He can’t really blame the guy. Bucky’s been there for hours without ordering anything solid, just leaching off their free water and complimentary bread basket.

“So, James.” She tosses her phone back into her bag, leaning forward on her palms easily. “Tell me about yourself.”

He had rehearsed this a million times. He could do this.

“I, uh,-”

“Menu?” Okay, so someone clearly had a vendetta against him.

“Thank you.” She takes it with a smile.

His morning debacle with the coffee flashes through his mind. Suddenly the idea of a diner didn’t seem so smart.

However, she’s already placed her order and George is standing beside him expectantly, daring him to ask for another glass of water, so he places his usual order and hopes that your stupid bad luck thing wore off.

He quickly learns that his date is laid back, and it isn’t hard to fall into a rhythm with her even though she’s the one asking most of the questions.

“How’d you meet Nat?” Is his attempt at one.

“She used to come in for lunch every week at the place I work.” Leah leans back in her chair. “She can really handle her alcohol.”

He’d be worried about Nat day drinking if he didn’t know about her complete inability to get drunk. She might as well have been downing glasses of lemonade.

“Yeah, she’s-” Intimidating, scary, cool “-really something.”

“She mentioned that you like movies.” He definitely spends a lot of time watching them. “You got any recommendations?”

It’s easier to figure out how different things are or how much he missed out over the years through them. He’s glad he sat out the early 2000s, judging by their fashion sense and hairstyles.

He's watched several movies over the past few months, a few of them critically acclaimed and others who were just there for the cult following.

But now everything goes blank and the only thing that he can remember are the biopics made about Steve that were somehow hilarious for gifting him the mental image of Freddie Prinze Jr. dressed in the stars and stripes, and highly distressing for the number of historical inaccuracies. Contrary to popular belief, Stevie did not, in fact, consider running for president after he took up the shield, nor did he start his own bar chain.

He can’t name Oh Captain, My Captain starring Channing Tatum as his favourite movie on his first date and hope to make a good first impression.

“Despicable Me was kinda fun.” He wants to kill himself. “I mean, it’s the last one I saw.”

Her face twists in mild disgust, but he can tell it isn't ill-intentioned. “It's a good movie, but God, that just gave me some intense flashbacks to my aunt’s Facebook page. Don’t think I can look at a minion ever again.”

He sniggers with her. He doesn’t know what the context is.

He’s a little awkward, and he can definitely tell he isn’t the most open book but she laughs at some of his attempts at jokes. There’s a distinct discomfort he has lingering at the back of his mind prodding at him, telling him over and over again that he isn’t ready for something like this. A warning bell, asking him to leave as soon as possible because he was in a dangerous situation.

He remembers what his therapist told him about breathing and remembering that the resources he had available were greater than his anxiety and he tries to get out of his head. It takes a few minutes of acting like he's fine but he manages to do it.

Other than the one time he scalds his tongue on the coffee but played it off with a pained smile, shoving down thoughts of your stupid invention, things actually went okay.

It was nice, even though they decided by the end that it was better if they both gelled together better as friends. It lifts the strange fear he feels and he can hear Dr. Mendoza say she's proud of him for taking this step before spending three hours psychoanalysing why they decided to stay platonic.

Bucky promises to visit her sushi shop with Nat soon and she says a bottle of sake awaits him for a drinking game. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that Nat and he share the same tolerance for alcohol.

He makes sure to leave George a tip. A big one. It’s the first time he sees the guy smile the entire evening.

He’s waving goodbye to Leah outside and he thinks that maybe it was a good end to the day and that things actually turned out fine.

Until he turns around to leave, only to have someone walk straight into him with an iced tea.

The cold comes as a bit of a shock, making him jump slightly. He stares at his shirt, using his fingertips to pull it away from his body.

The person melts into a series of apologies immediately, offering to dry clean his shirt but Bucky just forces a shake of his head and says it’s okay even though he can feel the sugar making the shirt stick to his chest. Goose feathers and iced tea. Was there anything else that would like to attach itself to him?

His fists clench and his teeth grit and he has to physically control himself from sprinting to your lair because God knows what else is in store for him and he didn't want to add in any way.

The door to the lair is locked. Fuckin’ brilliant.

When no one answers after minutes worth of waiting, he fishes for his phone and realises that maybe two hours of Fruit Ninja was not the best idea, especially on a phone known for having shitty battery life.

There’s roughly 2 percent left. By the time he opens his app to give you a call, his phone screen goes black.

He groans. He’s desperate at this point and under any other normal circumstances, he would have never, ever considered doing this.

But ten minutes later he’s outside your apartment building. You’re aware that he has your address; no doubt that it was in the SHIELD file he had gotten, and he knows that you know but it was still weird.

The buzzer has your last name listed next to it. He’s sure that he’ll break it if he keeps pressing it at this rate but he really needs you to let him in.

“Who the fu-” your voice comes through the intercom.

“I’m sorry for showing up like this, my phone died and I couldn’t reach you,” He breathes out as soon as he hears you. “But I need you to fix this.”

When he doesn’t hear a reply, he wonders if the thing actually worked. He’s about to start pressing it again-

“Bucky?” You sound a little surprised to hear him. “You’re at my house. Why are you at my house?”

“I need you to fix whatever this is.”

“What are you- fine, I’m buzzing you in,” your voice, initially confused soon trails off into something more dismissive.

There’s a soft click from the door, allowing him to push it open. The elevator is already on the same floor as him so he just uses that.

The elevator goes up a floor or two. His feet tap restlessly against the carpeted floor.

The lights turn off and everything comes to a standstill. His foot stops tapping.

He should have known. He should have fucking known.

Thirty seconds pass. He’s still in pitch darkness with the elevator showing no signs of moving.

In fact, he’s resigned to his fate. He sits down on the ground, only one step away from completely laying down and hoping someone finds his body here someday.

It’s six minutes of plain silence. He might as well get comfortable if he’s going to get stuck here for the rest of his life. Did he change his will? Does he even have a will?

There’s finally a whir. He thinks that maybe he’s going to plummet to his doom as the perfect end to this day, but then the light switches on and it starts moving upward.

It stops at the floor with a ding. He doesn’t get off the ground, only eyes the door wearily. With his luck, it wouldn’t open.

But it does and within a second he’s on his feet, scrambling to get out before it changes its mind.

He remembers your door number, basically charging down the hall to get to it.

The door is white and the paint is starting to chip off it. The handle itself is dented in a few places and he wonders if it was your fault or someone else's.

His knocks are rapid, agitated even. He doesn’t stop until he hears your loud shouts telling him to cut it out.

“What the hell were you doing, trying to break down my door?” It swings open, revealing you in your pajamas. “Haven’t you done that already? And where were you, I’ve been waiting for like, ten minutes.”

He honestly feels bad for showing up uninvited and highly flustered. He can’t imagine it’s a pretty sight either. "This bad luck shit- fix it. My whole day’s been fucked up.”

“What are you-” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, taking in his appearance.

It takes you a second to realise what he’s talking about but when you do, your face settles.

“How was your date?” You lean against the door frame, arms crossed over your chest.

“Really,” He glowered at you, “that’s what you care about?”

“Yes.” You nod. “Did you have fun?”

He hesitates. “I guess?”

“Was she nice?”

“Yeah.” Where was this going.

“Good, I’m happy for you.” The smile on your face is genuine. “Look at you go, Casanova.”

“We agreed to be just friends, but that’s not the point here. Y/N,” he whines. “I have a mission next week, I can’t afford to fuck up. My whole day was off and I don’t want it to carry over.”

“Your whole day?” you questioned, standing up instead of leaning against the wall. “Buck-”

“Just fix it.”

“Okay.” You lift your hand up, extending it towards his face.

He waits for you to do something.

You flick him on the forehead.

“There,” you declare, going back to your previous position. “you’re cured.”

What.

He says exactly what he’s thinking.

You laugh. “Dude. I was fucking with you.”

Huh?

“Well, actually maybe just like, three things and then I got bored.”

He’s confused.

“You know,” you begin when he doesn’t reply, “taking the sugar packets, switching your coffee order when you were looking under the table, took your place when you left, the shoelaces.”

“The shoelaces?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “That’s the other ray gun you saw this morning. Unties your shoelaces. I stopped after that because I thought you figured it out.”

His face scrunches in puzzlement.

“I mean, you looked right at me and told me to cut it out.”

He racks his brain about what you could possibly be talking about before it hits him. The hungover person on the goddamn bench in the park.

“You were the one in the hoodie and sunglasses.”

“I just followed the Avengers’ code of disguise.” You shrug. “Turns out it kinda works. Also teleportation. So helpful.”

He forgot about the teleportation. That's why you could do all of it so fast without him noticing you were even there.

“What about the fucking geese?”

You pause for a second. “The geese?”

“And the elevator.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” The confusion on your face is apparent. “What geese and elevator? I have no idea what you’re saying right now.”

“Everything’s been a mess today,” he grumbles. “I don’t know what’s real or not.”

“I swear I had nothing to do with it other than what I mentioned.” There’s indignation on your features that quickly gives way to delight. “Holy shit, did I just accidentally invent portable bad luck?”

“Okay-” his palm finds its way to his forehead in exasperation, “-then what the hell was the smell?”

“What smell- oh, the one from the box?”

He nods briskly.

“Secretions Magnifique.” You snorted. “It’s a perfume. The worst rated one I could find.”

“Perfume?”

“With notes of milk, seaweed and sandalwood.”

“It wasn’t an inator?”

“No, it wasn- did you get vibe checked by a goose at the park?” You stifle a laugh when you notice a stray feather on his thigh.

“What does that even mean?” he asks in despair.

“I can see why it attacked you. You got bad juju.” You raise an eyebrow. “Maybe if you stop staring so much-”

“So I just have shit luck.” Is that a fucking relief or even worse?

“Well,” you begin but decide not to continue.

Even with all the irritability masking it, you could see that he genuinely was just not having a good time.

“Wait here a second.”

You leave him at the door. He shifts his balance and sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. He still had to walk back to the Tower. Maybe he could grab a slice of pizza along the way since he skipped lunch.

“Okay, here.” You return with a large glass of water. He only looks at it. “It’s just water, I promise. You look like you ran a marathon."

He takes it from you sceptically, pushing away the urge to sniff at it. It’s gone within a few gulps.

You wait until he’s finished to point at his arm. He draws his eyebrows together, but you only curl your index finger and beckon for him to give you his hand.

He reluctantly extends it towards you.

“Don’t laugh,” you warn him, taking his metal arm. “This usually helps me.”

You tie a small bracelet around his wrist. It has a few beads, which he realises represent the colours of the solar system.

“Keep that for good luck.” You pat it gently after securing it. “I think you just had a bad day; those don’t last very long. Do you want to charge your phone before you leave?”

“Uh-” The bracelet’s pretty, the colours shine against the dark vibranium. “-no, I’m good. I’ll just leave.”

“Okay. Anything else I can help you with or will you be fine?”

He narrows his eyes. “You’re being suspiciously nice.”

“I’m not evil all the time.” You huff. “My hours are in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he says again. “I’m gonna go then.”

“See you next week.” You give him a little wave. “I’d say break a leg on your mission but knowing your situation...”

He scoffs. “Thanks.”

You make a move to close the door when starts walking down the hallway towards the exit.

He adjusts the beads slightly so he can see them better. The Earth one has glitter in it. He thinks it’s cute.

“Bucky.”

He turns around.

There’s a hint of a smile on your face.

“Take the stairs.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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destourtereaux · 3 years

Text

his #1 best friend - james f. potter x fem!reader (part 1)

summary: james convinces you to fake date him in an attempt to make lily jealous. need i say more?

word count: 1.5k

follow @lovebirdupdates to join my "taglist"!

warnings: mentions of food and eating -- super fluffy tho!

read part two here!

a/n: helllo guys! this is my entry for @acosmis-t 's writing challenge (sorry isa i literally write like a mf snail). i combined this with a request from an anon who wanted some fake dating (which i was veeery happy to oblige~)

also,, i have a bad habit of making my james x reader fics waay longer than i envision them, so there will likely be a part 2 to this!

as always, REBLOG if you enjoy, it means a lot!

prompts:

16. “You took all the pillows so I’m using you as one.”

18. “You are crushing me right now.”

******

"Y/L/N! Just the girl I wanted to see!”

You whip around to see a James Potter who was positively beaming, a huge grin on his face. You groaned. The last time you had seen him like this, your hair had been neon pink for almost a week afterwards; he had been sent to distract you while Sirius snuck the dye into your shampoo.

And so, your response was less than warm. “To what do I owe this pleasure, Potter?”

He pouted. “Aw, can’t a boy visit his #1 best friend for fun?”

You rolled your eyes. “Last I checked, my name isn’t Sirius, and I most definitely am not a Black. So, I’d say you’re in the wrong dorm, James.”

He laughed. “Alright, alright. However, I am indeed in the right place, because… well let’s just say Pads isn’t the right person for this job.”

“Oh brother, what are you up to?” you sighed. This was even worse than you had anticipated. If Sirius couldn’t even be bothered, you were sure you would like it even less.

James waggled his eyebrows, “okay, but promise you’ll hear me out before interrupting!”

Your curiosity got the best of you as you mimicked drawing a cross over your heart and plopped down on your bed, ready for the worst.

The boy’s eyes shine. “Heeeere’s the deal. You, me? We date for a few months and --”

“Absolutely not,” you cut him off, but before you could explain exactly why not, James clamps a hand over your mouth.

“Oy! What did we agree on? Hear me out first! It’s fake dating, alright? You don’t need to do it for real -- although I find it highly offensive that you’d reject me so quickly. It’s to make my Lily flower jealous, see? When she sees us together, she’ll realize her true feelings for me! Then we break up, I swoop back in with her, and bam, mission accomplished. It’s as easy as 1, 2, 3.”

You pried his hand off your face and shook your head fervently. “It’s not easy, James. It’s not even remotely plausible! You know we’re friends, that’s it. And why me? Everyone knows we’re always bickering -- heck, we’re doing it right now! There’s no way we’d pass as a couple.”

To your surprise, the boy is not the least bit deterred. “Pretty pleaaaase? There’s no one else that’ll work! Marlene wouldn’t be able to hide this from Lily, and Dorcas doesn’t even speak to me! With anyone else, it’d seem like it came out of nowhere, but you and I? We’re believable.”

You swallow. He knew exactly what he was doing with those puppy dog eyes, and god dammit because it was working. “I’ll think about it,” you finally conclude with a roll of your eyes, and James brightens.

“You’ll come around -- I know you love me, deeeep down inside,” and with that, the Gryffindor practically skips out of your room, leaving you wondering what on earth you had just (half) agreed to.

******

The next day, you headed down to the Great Hall for some breakfast. You were hoping that James had forgotten about it and moved on to his next big scheme, as he usually did, with the rate his gears turned.

But this time? Your hopes had been far too high. They always were with matters regarding Lily.

There was no greeting from James as you sat down. Instead, he looked at you again with those guile-free pools of hazel, and how could you refuse?

You groaned. “You little TWAT. Alright, alright, what’s in it for me?”

The boy beams and wraps an arm over your shoulders, squishing you into his side. “God, you’re the best, Y/N/N, honestly. Have I told you how much I love you?”

“Save it for Lils,” you waved him off. “Now answer me, ‘cause we both know I won’t be doing this for free.”

“Who do you think I am? An amateur?” he scoffed. “I come prepared, of course. How about… your homework, for a month. And I’ll treat you to something on the next Hogsmeade trip.”

You scrunch your eyebrows. “Try again, Prongs. You and I both know I have to help you with your homework, so forgive me for not believing that. And one treat for potentially months of faking this? No can do.”

“Okay, okay, fine. What if I pay for all our ‘dates’ for as long as we’re faking it?” James counters.

You grinned. “Now that’s more like it, Jamesie. We’ll see how you treat a girl.”

James rolled his eyes, “if I’d known that was all it took, we could’ve started planning yesterday!”

Better late than never, I guess. You shrugged and hid a grin.

******

Y/N and James’ Rules for Contractual Dating

1. Do not tell a soul (except Moony and Pads)

2. No actual kissing (HEY how am I supposed to show my affection then??)(I’M NOT SWAYING JAMES. You’re creative, you’ll find another way.)

3. Yes forehead and cheek kisses,, and hugs from behind <3 (The heart is a little excessive, don’t ya think?) (Oh don’t be a downer, love)

“James this is literally so dumb -- can’t we just go with the flow??”

“Do you WANT us to fail?? Suck it up, Y/N/N.

4. At least one date per week (and don’t forget who’s paaaaying!)

5. Do NOT fall in love (As if -- you’re worrying too much, Potter)

Signed,

Y/N Y/L/N James Fleamont Potter

And so, it began.

****** The next day, you headed down to the Great Hall as per normal, but this time, with a certain Gryffindor’s arm slung over your shoulders; much to everyone’s surprise.

You were trying to resist shoving his arm off, and James was absolutely reveling in the attention of course. Only Sirius and Remy were any wiser, Moony sending you a look of sympathy as you sat down. And there was no missing the widening of Lily’s eyes as she took in the scene.

This is going to be hard, you thought…

****** Except, it wasn’t very hard at all.

Over the next month, you and James were inseparable. You were hanging out almost everyday, stuck to each other like glue when you had the same classes. At quidditch games, he’d dedicate his shots to you, and most of the time, they managed to go in! You were certainly one of his biggest supporters, rivaled only, perhaps, by a certain Black. And the first thing James did after every game was run over to give you a hug. You always complained that he was sweaty and stank of it too, but you couldn’t help but hug him back.

Now that you basically spent every waking moment together, you couldn’t help but pay attention to his actions a whole lot more. You saw that way he helped younger students find their ways to class when they got lost and the way he stepped in whenever he noticed any injustice. You also noticed how he thanked the professors after every class and made sure to pick up a butterbeer for McGonagall on every Hogsmeade trip.

It was no wonder he was Head Boy. James was quite possibly the closest anyone could get to having a heart of gold.

And strangely enough, everyone around him was basked in that same light, because James was one of those rare souls who managed to share his shine with all he met. You saw it reflected when he held the door open for you, or when he comforted Sirius after a run-in with his dreadful cousins. And who could forget what he was doing for Moony every full moon?

You couldn’t believe that it had taken you so long to notice.

****** You were lying on a common room couch, reading a new muggle series you had gotten sucked into. In fact, it was so intriguing that you didn’t notice the quidditch captain return from practice. As James took in the scene, your vulnerable form, nestled in a pile of cushions, entirely entranced by the book in your hand, the corners of his mouth lifted. Whether it was a conscious response, no one knew.

And the next thing you knew, an 80kg object was landing on you, and you almost fell off the couch from the impact. You gasped and shielded your face before realizing that the “object” was a boy. A boy with unkempt hair and a pair of round glasses that you’d recognize anywhere.

“James! What in the world?! You’re literally crushing me right now, move, you big lump!” you prompted, your laugh muffled by his hair.

“Nuh uh. You took all the pillows, so I’m just using you as one. I reckon you’re more comfortable anyway,” the boy declines, looking up at you and grinning as he tucked his head into the crook of your neck.

You pulled yourself out enough to breathe, and set down your book. You wrapped an arm around him and ran the other hand through his hair. Oh god, what was happening to you?

****** read part two here! interested in my other works? see my masterlist!

taglist: @kielemarie @ur-local-reality-shifter @msmb @dielgonacoffee @amourtentiaa @malfoy-wife15 @izzyyy-1 @fives-cup-of-coffee @jodibullock1 @iwritesiriusly @cory-was-hexed @slytherclawbitch @mrzweasley @1-800-amortentia @amelialupin @wwandavision

#james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter imagines #james potter oneshot #james potter imagine #james potter oneshots #james potter series #james potter #james fleamont potter #marauders x reader #marauders oneshots #marauders era #hp marauders #rosie posie writes

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aaronymous9 · 2 years

Text

Has anyone else noticed that like Skywings are the most villainized tribe in the text by far? Like I don’t think Skywings are bad or anything I’m just saying that with certain interpretations of the text the writing really makes all Skywings seem “evil”? Or at least morally gray. This is probably really poorly constructed because it’s just something I’ve noticed but the only Skywing who doesn’t really do anything “bad” in the books are Sky and Cliff. Cliff being a dragonet and Sky being raised outside of his tribe, without fire and a character who is very much infantilized by the text. You probably could make an argument for Ruby as well and that’s really about all the “good” Skywings. For the morally grey Skywings you have Osprey, Kestrel and Peril. Osprey didn’t really do much wrong but I believe he supported Scarlet and was portrayed as kind of pretentious ( or at least that’s how I interpreted it ). Kestrel is physically abusive and really fucking mean, I think that one is pretty obvious, she does have a good side but only characters such as Sunny really cared about her. And Peril, while she has a redemption arc she killed presumably hundreds of dragons before the events of the first book, and is portrayed as unhealthy obsessive which is a generally negative trait in writing. I’d also like to mention Flame here, who was portrayed as murderous and ready to harm other dragons. Then of course, there is Queen Scarlet who was one of the biggest antagonists of the 1st and 2nd arc to an extent. And to clarify, I’m not really sure what I interpret from this observation, either that Skywing’s culture is meant to be shown as bad ( like guys the biggest and most recognizable part of their culture is an arena where dragons are forced to KILL eachother ) I think this interpretation could work, it was kinda the same with the Icewings and book 14 showed that it could be changed so the next generation of Icewings would be… less rude, dragon xenophobic and generally bad people. Also not to mention some of the only Skywings portrayed as morally good being very young dragonets or Skywings who’ve barely even met a Skywing before. The one problem with this, is if that’s what Tui was going for, I really don’t feel like it was portrayed very well? Like whenever dragons mention problems with the Sky Kingdom such as Queen Scarlet, killing firescales in their eggs, the arena, etc. nobody tries to do anything about it? It’s assumed that with Queen Ruby’s rule the Skywings will get much better but I really don’t think it’s portrayed as well as when Snowfall broke the Great Ice Cliff due to the lack of Skywing perspectives and insight into their kingdom. Not to mention that the only neutral or good Skywing cultural aspect is… being religious. Like that’s super interesting I just feel it’s quite odd? I’ve said this before but the fact that most tribes most recognizable cultural aspects are about dragon murder, dragonet murder, mistreating dragonets or just generally being assholes is kind of concerning. This could be done well sure but when Icewings have so little to their culture in the books that fans get mad their society’s worst feature gets destroyed is a bit of a worldbuilding fault in my opinion. Also about Skywings and Icewings, I just really think it’s odd that the only “good” Skywings and Icewings are ones who got a redemption arc, dragonets or ones who did not grow up with the culture. The literal only exceptions to this rule would probably be Lynx and if you stretched a little bit Ruby. It just kinda paints the whole tribes as grumpy assholes which is kinda odd considering that is literally the stereotype used to make fun of the two tribes in the books? Just feels weird for a kids book to lowkey confirm a stereotype instead of try and have the main character rebel against it.

Sorry for the weirdly written ramble but point is, oh my god the worldbuilding is so lackluster and even when big chances happen in the Wings of Fire world it feels like nothing has even changed because we didn’t get enough time to see the culture of the tribes before things changed. Anyways, if Tui retired and handed off the writing of the Wof series to me I could not do better than her but what I would do would be try and improve the worldbuilding and make longer books centered on each tribe and it’s culture. ( Imagine Clay’s book except it’s much longer and in that length where Clay is staying with the Mudwings you learn so much more about Mudwings and what their life and culture is like )

#wings of fire #wof #skywing

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sammygvfslut · 3 years

Text

i like you a latte | s. kiszka

Summary: Words cannot espresso how much you mean to Sammy Kiszka.

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Hey besties!!! this is my first ever sam fic, and i really hope you guys enjoy it! it’s super cheesy so beware of some tooth-rotting fluff ahead. any and all feedback is appreciated <3

Loud chattering and the sounds of espresso machines hissing and whistling filled the cafe. Every few seconds or so when a new customer walked in, a soft ringing above the door rang. Glancing at the clock, you sighed as it read 7am. Way too early for your liking. You wished to be back in bed under the covers with your cat Joey snuggling. Plus, the cold weather made it even harder for you to get out of bed every morning. Damn you, winter.

“Good morning.” A voice said suddenly, startling you as you slightly jumped. “Whoops, didn’t mean to scare you there for a sec.”

Turning around at the voice, your heart fluttered and a smile pulled at the corners of your lips. “G-Good morning, Sam! Nope, didn’t scare me at all. I was just uh...focusing very hard and you caught me off guard.”

A chuckle rumbled from his chest, his own lips curving and flashing that beautiful grin. God, he made you melt. You took a quick chance to admire his appearance for the day, luscious brown locks pulled back into a low bun with a few stray pieces framing his face, and he wore a slightly oversized brown grandpa looking sweater. He exuded true fall energy today and all you wanted to do was snuggle with him watching a movie while sipping on hot chocolate. “Right. Focusing on what exactly? Staring at the register?”

“S-Sure. Yes, the register.” Totally not him instead. “Um, I realized it turned off right now and my mind blanked to turn it back on.”

Sam placed a hand on your shoulder as he laughed, his touch leaving a wave of goosebumps to rise out of your skin. “You’re so cute. I’ll leave you to that then, but if you need help trying to get the register to turn back on again, let me know.” And with that, he sent you a wink and turned on his heel away to start on the customers orders.

Alright, alright. So maybe early shifts weren’t as bad as you thought thanks to your insanely charming co-worker. Sam and you had been working together for the past year, and almost instantly you started falling for him. He welcomed you with open arms and he was a great help when it came to your training. Your co-workers were nice too, but Sam took that extra step in making sure you were comfortable with what you were doing. If you made a mistake and were freaking out about it, he somehow knew the way to calm you down. He was too precious and good for this cruel world. And most of all, out of your league too.

With his dashing looks and amazing personality, you just knew there was no way he’d ever feel the same about you. Except, any time you’d voice that thought to any of your friends at work, they’d tell you you’re crazy and that he likes you too. Apparently they caught on to the signs more than you did, which wasn’t a shocker considering that you’d have no clue if a guy was interested in you unless he blatantly confessed. So, trying to figure out hints was completely pointless for you.

“Uh oh, she’s deep in thought,” one of your friends/co-workers, Danny, teased. He also happened to be Sam’s best friend, and current band mate since the pair are in a band with Sam’s older twin brothers. “I bet I can guess what, or who you were thinking about.”

“Don’t even say it,” you warned with a finger, “He’s literally four feet away from us—”

“So?” Danny rolled her eyes with his arms folded. “Why don’t you just tell him how you feel? Come on, it’s been almost a year now. What’s the worst that can happen if you confess?”

“He can hear me.” You stared blankly at him, shaking your head. “Absolutely not though, Danny. I will not embarrass myself from the humiliation I’d have to face from his rejection.”

Danny groaned frustratedly, placing his hands on both your shoulders and shaking them. “You’re so hopeless! Y/N, how many times do the guys and I have to tell you he likes you too!” He raised his voice a little louder than necessary which accidentally caught the attention of almost everyone in the cafe. Sam included unfortunately. Danny’s eyes widened, silently cursing under his breath. “Carry on, everyone.”

As much as you hated to admit it, Danny wasn’t lying when he mentioned about the guys agreeing that Sam likes you too. Every time you came over Josh’s apartment and Sam was there he’d find any little excuse to have his arm around you or teasing you constantly. You’d shake it off that he was just treating you like a friend would, but of course the guys would disagree with you.

“We’ll finish this conversation later,” Danny told you sternly, “But for now, and don’t make it obvious, but Sam’s looking at you.” A mischievous grin spread across his face as he winked and stepped to the next register before greeting a new customer and taking their order.

Heart pounding out of your chest, you slowly looked over your shoulder in Sam’s direction. You saw his head quickly turn and finish off the drink in front of him. Your cheeks burned at this and tried taking deep, slow breaths to calm yourself down. Didn’t work much, but as a new customer waved and told you their order, your breathing turned back to normal.

On the other end of the counter, Sam was currently freaking the hell out from what he heard a few minutes ago between you and Danny. He didn’t mean to, but he also wasn’t that far from either of you. Plus, Danny wasn’t the best at keeping his voice low. He had a strong feeling he knew you were talking about him, and for that reason alone he overflowed the cup he was pouring into and made a mess. He cursed under his breath and wiped his hands on his apron, shaking his head.

You caught sight of this and rushed to his side, grabbing a cloth from under the sink and started wiping the sticky counter. Sam was certain his cheeks were tomato red from his embarrassment, making a complete fool of himself for not paying attention to what he was doing. More so focusing on your conversation and your damn smile from earlier. You weren’t the only one here with a crush.

“T-Thanks, Y/N.” Sam chuckled nervously, throwing the cup in the trash and tossing the drink pitcher he held in the sink. “I’m normally not this much of a dumbass.”

“I’m not too sure about that one, Kiszka.” You teased lightly with a grin. “It happens, don’t worry,” you assured. “I’m just glad it was cold tea you spilled and not steaming coffee. I’d hate for you to get a third degree burn. That happened to me once, don’t recommend it.”

“Didn’t I drive you to the hospital for that?” he asked. “I think that might’ve happened a few months ago.”

Your eyes widened at the memory. “Oh shit, you’re right. God, I’m still so sorry I had to drag you into that.”

Sam shook his head, lips curving and cheeks no longer flushed. “For the hundredth time, stop apologizing about that, Y/N. You know you can count on me for anything, so of course I didn’t mind driving you to the hospital. I remember even blasting some ABBA on the way over there so you’d have something else to focus on instead of the pain you endured.”

You smiled at the memory. “Didn’t we also go out for ice cream afterwards?”

He nodded, lightly rubbing his arm. “Yeah, it was a lot of fun. I mean, I always have fun when I’m with you.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his last few words, blinking slowly. “O-Oh.”

Oh? That’s all you have to say? Nice one, Y/N.

Sam’s heart dropped. Fuck. Maybe you weren’t talking about him after all. Maybe it was Danny or one of his brothers that you had a crush on and he was mistaken about it. He wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow him whole right about now. Being anywhere but here sounded splendid to him.

“Y-Y/N, I—“

“Ihavefunwhenimwithyoutoo,” you muttered all too quickly, and poor Sam barely even understood what you said. He didn’t have the chance to ask you to repeat yourself because you quickly walked away to the back and he was left with a tug at his chest, frowning.

Within the next few days after Sam’s tea spill, literally, things between you and him became...awkward. Something went off in him to become even more clumsy than normal and forget everything he’s ever known when you’re near him. He’d get flustered, stuttering a lot, messing up orders, dropping dishes, and nearly tripping all the time. He hated it so much and wished he could just muster up the courage and apologize for being such an idiot and confess his feelings to you. Even during your hangouts with the guys, Sam and you wouldn’t interact as much and honestly you were well aware you were being super childish and immature about the situation. Sam did too, and he needed to snap the fuck out of it.

The next few days at work Sam would ignore Danny’s little side comments about his immaturity and continued working in silence. For the rest of his shift he didn’t talk much to anyone other than the customers. He wanted to talk to you when he had the chance, but then he’d quickly back out and walk the opposite direction.

He couldn’t figure out why it was so futile for him to just grow a sack and tell you he likes you. He’d never gone through this struggle before. Then again, as cheesy as it sounded, the other girls he’d asked out in the past couldn’t compare to you. Never in a million years, and maybe he was too afraid that he didn’t deserve someone as amazing as you.

Nearing closing that same day, it was only you, Sam, and Danny. The flow of customers died down and not many people came in towards the end of the night which you were grateful for. It finally gave you the chance to relax a bit and start cleaning things up ahead of time so you wouldn’t have to stay after. Joey and a nice warm bath were waiting for you at home.

While Sam decided on working the register and you and Danny would clean, he grabbed your arm and led you into the back.

“What are you two still doing not dating each other or talking?! It’s been way too long now, Y/N. And since it’s only us three tonight, you have no other choice. Come on, I know you can’t take this any longer, and he can’t either. I can take over the register for a bit while you and him talk.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, contemplating his offering. As incredibly thankful as you were for his help, you were also scared shitless of the possible outcome. Perhaps it was finally time though that you say fuck it and say what you needed to. You couldn’t go on for any longer to keep your feelings bottled up inside. Maybe, just maybe he might feel the same way, and by God you hoped that would be the case.

Inhaling, you nodded slowly and made your way back to where you were. Your eyes searched for Sam and saw he was busy making a drink, except there was no one else here besides you, him and Danny. It could’ve been a drink for him, so you shrugged this off and went towards the sink to start washing the dishes.

A few moments later, Sam cleared his throat from behind you. “H-Hey Y/N, so um, I know the créme brûlée latte is your favorite, and I thought I’d make you one. You seemed really stressed and busy today and I wanted to try to cheer you up. I hope that’s okay.”

Your heart swelled at his generosity and your cheeks burned as you felt his gaze burning into you, his palms soaking from nervousness. “Sam, you didn’t have to do that for me.”

He shrugged casually, a small smile on his lips and his cheeks tinted a light pink. “It’s okay, I wanted to. And I uh, tried my best on the art. Hope you like it.”

Raising a brow, your gaze dropped on your cup and your eyes widened as you saw what he was referring to. A small coffee cup with the words I like you a latte around it.

“It’s true,” Sam chewed on his bottom lip while running his fingers through his hair. “I really like you Y/N, and I’m so sorry for acting like such an idiot these last few days around you. I don’t know what came over me, and I’m sorry that I didn’t talk to you much either.”

Setting your cup on the counter, you took a step closer to him and cupped his cheek, rubbing your thumb softly against his soft skin. “You don’t have to apologize for anything, Sam. I’m sorry for not talking to you too, as well as for making a fool of myself. I tend to do that around someone I like.”

Finally, the realization dawned on Sam as a wide grin pulled at his lips. “Glad we’re on the same boat.”

“I-Is it alright if I kiss you?” he asked shyly, his eyes sparkling as he looked at you.

You giggled. “You don’t even have to ask, loverboy.” You playfully rolled your eyes and cupped his other cheek before connecting his lips with yours.

A smirk pulled at Danny’s lips as he glanced at the two of you, shaking his head. Josh and Jake owed him $20 now.

It was about damn time that Sam and you finally espresso’d your love for each other.

tagging these lovely folks bc they helped inspired me and their work is amazing <3 @godlygreta / @flowervanfleet / @dharma-divine

#sam kiszka imagine #sam kiszka x reader #greta van fic #greta van fleet #sam kiszka

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bigskydreaming · 3 years

Text

Brain topic du jour is reflecting on the frankly weird as fuck pattern in Dick’s life where....he barely ever experiences losses one at a time. Most of the loss he’s experienced in his life is compounded by him losing multiple people and other elements of stability all at the exact same time.

1) When his parents died, in some continuities this is coupled with him losing his extended family of his aunt and cousin as well, with his uncle left comatose and on life support for years before he eventually died as well. Even in continuities without Richard, Karla and John, the loss of Dick’s parents is compounded by the additional loss of his circus family in the sense that he was taken away from them by the state and their constant reassuring presences in his life were no longer comforts he was able to rely on.

2) When Jason died, Dick didn’t just lose his brother, as the tragedy was compounded by Bruce’s reaction. I’ll never be able to gloss over the effects of NTT #55, personally, because I think its too key to Dick’s entire characterization and the specific direction his character took in the years that followed this, to like....disregard that Bruce however unintentionally, while lost in his own grief, added to Dick’s own sense of loss for Jason in probably the worst way possible. As by kicking Dick out and telling him to leave his keys, Dick - having no way to know or guess that they’d ever reconcile, just like he never actually went back to the circus being a regular presence for him - to Dick, this was in essence the equivalent of his childhood tragedy all over again. Losing not just one family member, but his whole family in one sweep, and all the comforts and stability offered by a home he was forced to leave. Even Dick’s contact with Alfred was minimal for awhile, because why would the guy who basically JUST saw history repeat itself and was like, well I know how THIS tends to play out.....why would he think that if Alfred felt forced to actually choose between his loyalties to Bruce and Dick respectively, that Alfred would pick Dick over the man he’d known and raised from childhood himself?

3) Titans Hunt. I know I harp on this one a lot, but you can’t deny that it fits the pattern. Dick didn’t just lose one friend and teammate.....he lost Joey, he lost a good four or five lesser known Titans who nevertheless were people he viewed as directly HIS responsibility to keep safe. With these tragedies compounded by the fact that though comics played out a lot more slowburn and extended stories over years back then, like.....the aftermath of Titans Hunt was still everpresent and directly died into Dick’s reactions and emotions during the Mirage storyline and everything that happened with the failed wedding and his breakup with Kory AND the fact that he was literally forced off the team he’d basically founded, by the government agency that took over the team and appointed Roy as its leader in his stead.

3) Graduation Day. The second time the Titans disbanded it was again not due to a singular loss, because Dick didn’t just lose Donna at this point, but also Lilith died in the exact same story and though Lilith is criminally underused, like, she’s also one of Dick’s oldest friends. She was literally the first Titan to join after the original five. This then led into the Outsiders era, where Dick was shown to still be reeling from the losses of this story for an extended period of time, and in a fun parallel to the Titans Hunt aftermath, Dick was also ousted from his leadership of THIS team by essentially a vote of no confidence by his teammates (and uh, Bruce too, literally).

4) The Blockbuster arc. Where Dick’s emotional state was due to a continued string of multiple losses. He lost his apartment building and almost every one of the neighbors he’d built a community out of, as we’d been shown him actively involving himself in their lives and vice versa for YEARS before this point. Then he lost his circus, his childhood home, burned to the ground and with dozens of deaths - both spectators and actual performers Dick had known and loved as a child. Then he lost his relationship with Barbara, his sense of self-security and autonomy to Tarantula, he lost another teen vigilante who died in his colors, the mantle HE’D created, when Stephanie was believed dead in War Games, and it all culminated in losing the city he’d invested himself in as his CHOSEN home, the place he dedicated himself to protecting, when Chemo blew it up.

Oh just for the record - my nonexistent passport to the magical kingdom of Narnia for a fic that raises the point when bringing up Tim’s losses in the Red Robin era, that like.....ALL of the above happened at literally the EXACT SAME TIME as all Tim’s referenced losses occurred. Obviously Steph meant more to Tim than Dick on a personal level, but I also included her largely as an anchor point to the timeline, to show how that death, and not long after that Jack Drake’s and then Superboy’s.... occurred right smack in the middle of one of the absolute WORST periods of Dick’s life. To be clear, I don’t intend this to suggest that no actually, Dick had it harder than Tim - nah.

No thank you. Hard pass. I hate that sort of thing even in support of my own faves over other characters. No, instead the thing I’d love to see explored more is just in light of the SPECIFIC angle fics take here - that Dick’s actions while Bruce was lost in time showed an obliviousness to everything Tim had lost lately - for literally ANYONE to bring up or introduce into the timeline here an awareness of everything Dick had lost AT THE EXACT SAME TIME PERIOD. To establish that actually, Dick didn’t just ‘not understand what it was like’ - rather, its more accurate to say that nobody in universe around this time ever shows an awareness of Dick’s own losses and says oh wait, that doesn’t track then.

Because obviously, with this stuff put in proper perspective, Dick understands VERY VERY WELL the exact thing we’re accusing him of not understanding by being oblivious to Tim’s losses that he’s not actually oblivious to because he tries to talk to Tim about them all the time, while meanwhile its everyone else who has absolutely mum to say about the fact that Dick’s emotional state is compromised to hell and back at this point, not JUST because of losing Bruce, but also because *gestures wildly* literally ALL OF THE ABOVE in the exact same time frame Tim’s extended losses happened in.

And okay I am going to indulge in slight tiny itty bitty pettiness and point out my ire that so many fics set during this time tend to recite listicles of Tim’s losses, with Steph, Kon and Jack Drake at the very top of said list....while paying no attention whatsoever to the fact that STEPH WAS LITERALLY BACK BY THE TIME THE RED ROBIN SERIES HAPPENED. She’s LITERALLY a person Dick sends to check up on Tim after Tim turns Dick away when he tries himself. How are you gonna stress the impact Steph’s loss has on Tim when you’re not even acknowledging STEPH’S RIGHT HERE IN THE EXACT SPECIFIC CANON STORY YOU’RE CITING??? I just. afhioskhflafhlafhklfahlfa.

And not to put too fine a point on it, but you know who ELSE was also back at the same time? CONNOR. Superboy LITERALLY was already back to life by the time the Red Robin series even began. Like, the issue where a resurrected Kon and Cassie (Wonder Girl) have a heart to heart about the fact that Tim and Cassie ‘connected’ during his absence and Connor stresses that this doesn’t bother him or make him feel negatively towards either of them at all, because hello, he was literally dead at the time, why would he mind that two of the people he loves most in the world sought comfort in each other? Yeah, that issue? Literally came out BEFORE Tim even became Red Robin.

I MEAN. I’m just saying, when people constantly take shots at Dick’s choices during this period because of how much Tim had lost before Bruce already, in order to shift focus away from the fact that Dick lost Bruce every bit as much as Tim did......and you repeatedly emphasize the SAME three names as the focal point of Tim’s losses while paying no acknowledgment whatsoever to everything Dick lost at the exact same time Tim lost these three.....it quickly becomes kiiiiiiinda relevant in my opinion THAT TWO OF THE THREE NAMES CONSTANTLY MENTIONED AS BEING TIM’S LOSSES ARE NO LONGER EVEN LOST BY THE TIME THE SUBJECT COMES UP. Again, I’m just saying! Pettily, mind you! I am aware of the pettiness, I just beg awareness of like *again gesticulates wildly at all of the above* ALL THAT!

LOL.

But I digress.

5) When Bruce was believed dead while he was lost in the timestream. Again, Dick didn’t just lose the father who had been the only parent in his life for almost TWICE as long as his first parents......this was coupled with the loss of numerous other sources of stability in Dick’s life. There’s the matter of his personal sense of identity and self-expression....Dick FOUGHT against becoming Batman, trying to handle Gotham in Bruce’s absence as Nightwing for as long as he could, because he knew being Batman was very much NOT going to be good for him. He put so much of himself into building his identity as Nightwing, establishing himself in that role, that self-image, that yes, I maintain it was an actual LOSS for Dick, to feel like he had no choice but to give that up and everything it meant to him and his own life, in order to essentially live Bruce’s life for him in his absence.

Because it wasn’t just being Batman that Dick was struggling with at this time....he also had to act as the patriarch to the Wayne family, essentially raise Bruce’s ten year old son, step into Bruce’s old role in Wayne Enterprises, all while getting no acknowledgment for any of this, for literally LIVING his father’s life instead of the life Dick had worked so hard to build for HIMSELF....because of course Dick’s actions and struggles couldn’t even be advertised beyond the family and close friends, because the whole point of him doing all this was so that nobody else even realized that Bruce wasn’t really there anymore. Dick didn’t just assume Bruce’s responsibilities. Dick assumed Bruce’s life, so thoroughly that most people didn’t even put together that Bruce was ‘dead,’ between Dick handling Bruce’s actual roles and responsibilities while Hush made public appearances as him.

Like, when you’re living someone else’s life so completely that nobody can tell they’re even gone....how on earth does that leave any time or space for you to have ANY kind of life of your OWN, y’know? Not to mention the fact that like in so many times previously....all this meant that Dick couldn’t even afford to let his grief for his own losses show, because he wasn’t supposed to be grieving any losses in the first place, that was the whole point of the con!

Additionally, couple this with the fact that throughout this time period, Dick didn’t have Tim to lean on at all, because it was never that Dick kicked Tim out or neglected him or didn’t care....he’d actively stressed how much he needed Tim, because the partner Tim was convinced Dick chose ‘over’ him - Dick was the first one to admit back then that he DIDN’T trust Damian yet, couldn’t afford to, because he was all too aware that Damian didn’t give a fuck about him yet and couldn’t be guaranteed to step in to have Dick’s back - because that required mutual trust that Dick literally just hadn’t had time to build yet. And add to THAT the fact that during this time, Jason was actively antagonizing the family and Dick in particular at every turn, trying to bring them all down and basically write over what all of them saw as Bruce’s legacy with Jason’s own version of what he thought that should look like.

Also also, take into account that unlike how often we see fanon depict Dick as just too stubborn or proud to ask for help, there’s the fact that he actually had very few avenues TO ask for help! As already established, he DID ask Tim for help. Not like Jason was an option at this time, and Dick’s friends weren’t actually just sitting waiting in the wings and groaning about the fact that Dick was trying to do all of this solo....nah, they kinda had their own problems, which Dick was all too aware of?

Like the fact that in the wake of Final Crisis, it wasn’t just Bruce that was believed lost. Many other key Leaguers like Martian Manhunter were dead or lost, with others struggling to fill the gaps left in their absence. Cry For Justice happened right after Final Crisis too....that story where Lian was murdered? So it wasn’t like Dick was remotely going to try leaning on Roy when Roy had just lost his freaking DAUGHTER and very much wasn’t handling it well (and not to overshadow Roy’s loss at ALL, but please let’s not act like Dick - who had literally been the person to put a baby Lian in Roy’s arms for the first time and had known that girl for pretty much her entire life - like, it shouldn’t be used to detract from Roy’s loss at all, but it shouldn’t have to, to just acknowledge that Lian’s loss right at this exact time was painful as fuck to Dick, who’d loved his niece like crazy.)

The pattern of compounding, concurrent losses in Dick’s life. I’m just saying. Its there.

And it extends into the New 52 as well, where Forever Evil came right on the heels of Dick losing his circus in THIS continuity to the Joker, just as a way to hurt him in Death of A Family. And with the aftermath of Forever Evil and Dick’s own literal death, being like....the complete loss of Dick’s entire life, even though he was revived quickly. That didn’t mean he got to live HIS life though, since Dick Grayson was believed dead and he was told had to remain so, so its like fuck whatever he actually wanted to do as he went about on the Spyral mission aka something that pinched his own sense of morality and personal agenda at every turn and was kinda the last thing a therapist would recommend for a trauma recovery period, lol. And like, for all the focus that was paid to how Dick’s family were hurt because they believed they’d lost him when he was actually alive, let’s not forget that for all intents and purposes, Dick DID lose his family in the wake of his resurrection because he was flat out told over and over that due to what ‘he’d LET happen to him’ he was an ACTIVE danger to them, and thus wasn’t allowed by Bruce to contact any of them or lean on them to any degree, until Bruce got amnesia and stopped blocking Dick’s pleas to return home by just not being there to pick up the secret phone line at all.

(And omg, the obliviousness that just EMANATES off the hot takes that Dick had a ‘choice’ in all this and he still CHOSE to do what Bruce told him....like. LOLOL, stop being pissy about me bringing up the term abuse apologism when its literal victim blaming to paint the guy who had to be beaten into ‘agreeing’ to the Spyral mission in the immediate wake of the trauma of DYING, all while his father vocally blamed him for his own suffering and the ‘threat’ he now posed to his family, keying directly into the guilt complex Bruce knows damn well is at the core of most of Dick’s motivations.....fucking please. There’s no choice in all that. That’s active emotional, mental and physical abuse aimed at directly manipulating Dick’s actions, delivered by the guy who knows Dick best in the world and whose approval - particularly when Dick is at absolute rock bottom aka Current Location - matters more to Dick than just about anything because his sense of self-worth has more in common with dog shit than actual dog shit does. Or something. Idk. That analogy got away from me. But like. You get it.)

BUT. I. DIE. GRESS. (I guess).

Aaaaaaanyway, so yeah! That repeating pattern throughout Dick’s life of ‘loss? What loss (singular)? My losses only come in groups, lolol, fuuuuuun’ - mmmm. Yeah. So that’s what’s on MY brain right now. Thoughts?

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

Nie Huaisang is the cutest thing monsters have ever seen, they can be yao dragons or giant turtles one look at nhs and they want to feed hug or kidnapt him nmj trainning involved recovering his baby brother from every monsters nest around qinge

ao3

“I’m sorry,” Nie Mingjue said, his teeth gritted together and his arms shaking from the strain of holding Baxia up. “He’s mine.”

The massive tiger glared down at him over Baxia’s blade, currently stuck in its teeth, and growled something.

“I know,” Nie Mingjue said. His legs were shaking now, too. “I know, trust me, I know! I’m human, he’s – young, yes, yes, I know. But he’s my little brother! I’m not giving him up!”

The tiger spat out the blade, knocking Nie Mingjue backwards on his ass.

“And when you change your mind?” the tiger demanded. “Will you abandon him then?”

“No!” Nie Mingjue exclaimed. “Never! He’s my brother!”

“Mark your words,” the tiger said ominously. “Or else.”

It turned and stalked off, its tail waving arrogantly in the air, until its towering white form disappeared into the distance.

Nie Mingjue sighed in relief. “Huaisang?” he called, and a small head popped out of the nest the tiger had started building, blinking owlishly at him. “Come on, come to da-ge. It’s time to go home.”

“But Master Tiger said we were going to play…”

“Yes, well, he wanted to play for too long,” Nie Mingjue said. “Only a few centuries, give or take. Let’s go.”

It started back when Nie Huaisang was born.

No, more accurately, it started when Nie Mingjue’s father fell in love with someone he probably oughtn’t have, which according to the sect was not a terribly uncommon problem for him to have, and decided to bring home a bride.

Nie Mingjue could still remember the first time he’d seen the Second Madame Nie. They’d all been lined up to greet her, all the sect and close members of the clan in rows according to rank, Nie Mingjue fidgeting in the inside of the house proper in his first tangle with formal clothing outside of the discussion conferences. She had come sweeping in with her head held as high as a princess, seductive and bewitching.

Every movement had been perfect, the eyes of all the men fogging over in lust and the women in admiration – or visa versa, depending on their personal preferences – and a wicked smile had lit up her face when she had stepped across the threshold, officially becoming the sect leader’s wife, and maybe everything would have gone along with whatever plan she’d had back then if she hadn’t next seen him.

“Oh, look at you,” she exclaimed, rushing over to pinch Nie Mingjue’s cheeks between her hands. “What a delectable little morsel you are!”

“Uh,” Nie Mingjue said, staring up at her with big round somewhat-worried eyes.

“You charming little dumpling,” she said. “You adorable mouthful of meat! Spoonful of egg yolk!”

Nie Mingjue cast his eyes around to see if anyone would be willing to help him.

“My eldest son,” Nie Mingjue’s father said, not without pride – albeit perhaps a puzzled sort of pride. “He’s probably just about old enough to come to the forecourt, if you don’t want him to live with you –”

“Oh no,” she said. “He’s definitely living with me.”

And so she stayed, and Nie Mingjue stayed with her, and she doted on him in a way he found pleasant if mildly disconcerting. Within a year, she was pregnant, and irritated with it; six months after that, she was round and complaining, even though Nie Mingjue solemnly assured her that she was as beautiful as ever.

“This is your fault, you know,” she told him, and he blinked at her. “It is! Don’t get me wrong, your father’s a charming bull when he wants to be, and of course he fucks like a champion stud, but I stayed here for you, my little cabbage roll, my charming chunk of liver.”

She patted her belly.

“That means this here is all because of you. So you’d better take responsibility!”

Nie Mingjue considered the issue for a little. The argument seemed plausible, so he raised his hands and put them on her rounded stomach. “I will take care and watch over him for all my life,” he vowed, and the baby inside kicked his hand in response, sealing the pact.

“Oh you are so cute,” she said, pressing her hands to her cheeks. “My darling pork bun! My little fish cake! I could eat you right up, if only you were just a little bit older!”

When Nie Huaisang was born, she disappeared in a welter of blood, but Nie Mingjue’s oath remained.

The trouble started after that.

“You can’t raise a cub like that properly,” the winged lion argued, bating its wings as if that would help it make its point better.

Nie Mingjue glared at him. “Watch me!”

“It’s for your own good, little human. He needs his own kind –”

“I’m not listening to a treasure-seeker!”

The lion scowled at him. “I’ll have you know that most humans think I’m good luck!”

“You’re not trying to steal most humans’ little brothers, are you?!”

The winged lion sighed, a deep sound, so very noble and long-suffering that Nie Mingjue couldn’t resist the urge to lift his foot and kick the lion right in the paw.

“Brat!”

“Don’t care!” he shouted. “You leave my brother alone! He’s my responsibility, not yours! Piss off!”

“You can’t even feed him properly -”

“I’ll figure it out!” Nie Mingjue bared his teeth and wished he was old enough for a saber.

“You little…fine. Fine! I’ll bring you a book on how to feed a huli jing kit, and you keep to it, you hear me?”

“I will,” Nie Mingjue said. “But don’t you even think of taking him away!”

“On your own head be it,” the winged lion grumbled. “Not everyone’s as understanding as me.”

“Why are you wet?” Nie Mingjue’s father asked him.

“Water monkeys,” Nie Mingjue said shortly. “There was a nest.”

“Water monkeys? Don’t they normally stay away from people…? Or, I suppose, were these ones feral?”

“Thieves.”

“Ah. Well, nothing to be done about it, I suppose…bad luck for you to run into them here, of all places. But good experience! How many people your age can say that they fought water monkeys?”

“Can we go home?” Nie Mingjue asked, a little plaintively, and rubbed his nose. “How much can you really have to say to the Jiang sect, anyway?”

His father chuckled. “More than either of us would like, unfortunately. But if you’ve had enough of water, which no one can blame you for, maybe you and Huaisang can go shopping in the pier instead?”

That would work, Nie Mingjue thought, and nodded happily.

(Sect Leader Jiang was extremely embarrassed about the ghostly rats in the night-market – he claimed they’d never seen neither nose nor tail of them before the Nie brothers had accidentally tripped over their trap and had to flee from the swarm...)

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nie-er-gongzi,” the white-clad cultivator from the mountain said, smiling broadly and saluting deeply.

Xiao Xingchen had made himself famous during his first half-dozen night-hunts alone for his extraordinary grace, bearing and strength, and he said he was on a mission to help the world. He was beautiful, virtuous, and matched each ideal of gentlemanly arts.

Sects throughout the cultivation world were drooling at the thought of enticing him to join them, fighting for the opportunity to put in a good word with him.

Not all sects.

Nie Mingjue stepped forward, purposely putting Nie Huaisang behind him.

“Don’t you even think about it,” he said, hand on the hilt of his saber. “Buzz off, birdbrain.”

Xiao Xingchen might wear white, but Nie Mingjue knew a zhuque chick when he saw one.

“I found something for my aviary, da-ge!” Nie Huaisang, seven years old and delighted with his clumsy autonomy, announced.

Nie Mingjue, less than a full year into his new role as sect leader, rubbed his eyes. “Oh?” he asked, only somewhat wanting to scream endlessly into the void, which was better than usual. “That’s nice, Huaisang…”

“Come look! It’s so pretty!”

“I’m a bit busy –”

“But da-ge!”

Nie Mingjue sighed and got up, following Nie Huaisang to the door only to come to a complete stop.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he said to the fenghuang currently pretending to be a rooster in a cage, as if anyone would actually mistake phoenix flames for regular feathers. “Do you have no dignity left?!”

“You can’t adopt the bashe,” Nie Mingjue said to Nie Huaisang, who pouted. “It eats elephants; we’d be broke within three months.”

He turned to the giant python.

“You can’t adopt Huaisang,” he said. “I will literally murder you.”

“Why can’t I go watch the eclipse?” Nie Huaisang complained. “Everyone else is going!”

“I’m not risking a tiangou.”

“The…dog that eats the sun? Really, da-ge, is that even real?”

“You know what,” Nie Mingjue said, “you’re grounded just for saying that.”

Nie Huaisang grinned.

“Maybe I want to go and live among the qilin!” Nie Huaisang screamed, fourteen and hormonal about it.

“Well you don’t get a choice!” Nie Mingjue bellowed back.

“You’re not my father! I don’t have to listen to what you say!”

“I’m your fucking sect leader and yes you do!”

“I hate you!”

“I don’t care if you hate me! You still aren’t going to go live in a field with some magic pointy deer and that’s final!”

The qilin herd wisely chose to withdraw.

“Da-ge,” Jin Guangyao hissed, and Nie Mingjue looked up from his work at him – he hadn’t heard Meng Yao this upset since he’d shoved him into a closet to get him out of way during the whole dangkang boar hunt debacle. “Da-ge, there’s a dragon outside.”

“Again?” Nie Mingjue said, standing up to stretch and feeling oddly unbalanced. They’d just finished another session with the song of Clarity, so he really shouldn’t be feeling like this; he would need to write to Lan Xichen again about his fears that the treatment really wasn’t working. Lan Xichen would probably only say to give it more time, another chance, but still… “Let me go talk to them. Dragons are the worst.”

“No, da-ge, you don’t understand,” Jin Guangyao said. “It’s not a water-serpent or – or even a jiaolong – it’s a dragon.”

“A flood-dragon is a type of dragon,” Nie Mingjue said, following Jin Guangyao outside. “You know that, it’s in the name, what’s the big – oh, I see. It’s a celestial dragon.”

Jin Guangyao glared at him with an expression suggesting that he was under-reacting, but Nie Mingjue really didn’t have the capacity in him to reach with appropriate fervor at the moment. He and Nie Huaisang had been fighting a lot recently, every little thing escalating into a giant argument, and he was no longer sure if he was doing the right thing in trying to force Nie Huaisang onto the path of his ancestors. After all, unlike Nie Mingjue, Nie Huaisang had – somewhat different ancestors, on his maternal side.

And, he supposed, Nie Huaisang was old enough to decide otherwise, if he truly wished…

Still, Nie Mingjue was as stubborn as a mule and had no intention of giving up his baby brother without a fight, so he braced himself and went over to the frankly massive creature draped over the entrance gateway and much of the training yard that the entirety of the Nie sect was doing its utmost best to pretend that they weren’t seeing.

Nie Huaisang was sitting on the thing’s five claws – an imperial celestial dragon, apparently – because of course he was.

“Excuse me,” Nie Mingjue called up to the dragon, which turned its head to regard him, an entire production that took nearly a quarter ké to accomplish. “The brat there is mine, please return him.”

“Da-ge!” Jin Guangyao hissed again, but Nie Mingjue waved him away.

“You have raised him well,” the dragon said, which was…a good deal nicer than most of these interactions usually went.

“…thanks?” Nie Mingjue said suspiciously, ignoring Jin Guangyao’s splutters of “It talks?!” “I think?”

“I have chosen to grant you a boon,” the dragon announced.

“…right,” Nie Mingjue said. “If this ‘boon’ is that you’ll take him off my hands, I’m afraid I’m going to have to refuse. He may be trouble, but he’s still my brother.”

“Da-ge!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed, indignant. “Don’t be rude. I asked him for this!”

Nie Mingjue frowned at him, unable to resist the feeling of hurt even though he’d already told himself to expect something like this. “…you want to leave?”

“No, da-ge, don’t be ridiculous. I asked him to improve your health!”

Ah.

“Huaisang –” he started to say.

“Don’t you ‘Huaisang’ me!” his little brother shouted. “I know you’re trying to hide it, but it’s getting worse, isn’t it? San-ge told me so! He said I should get ready!”

Nie Mingjue made a mental note to strangle Jin Guangyao, who had no right to say something like that to Nie Huaisang even if maybe it wasn’t the worst idea in the world to emotionally prepare Nie Huaisang for the upcoming bereavement and inheritance he would need to face.

“Anyway, he said to get ready, so I did!”

“You can’t just ask a divine dragon to fix me, Huaisang. That’s not how this works.”

“Uh, it totally does, and I did, and he agreed. So there!”

Nie Mingjue crossed his arms and glared. “And what did he want in return?”

“The boon is a reward for your past merit, not a trade for the deeds of the future,” the dragon said, not even slightly hiding how its whiskers were shaking with suppressed laughter. “You have travelled a difficult road, and borne the weight of it well. And besides…”

“Besides?”

“If you were to die, he would undoubtedly petition the creatures of the underworld to return you.”

“Well, fuck,” Nie Mingjue said, having not considered that. “Fine. Whatever. Heal me and I’ll try to keep an eye on my health going forward.”

Maybe more Clarity? He could try to free up his schedule, get in a few more sessions…

“I just give up,” Jin Guangyao said behind him. “I just fucking give up.”

Nie Mingjue, assuming that he was talking about Nie Huaisang’s nonsense, agreed whole-heartedly.

#mdzs #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #jin guangyao #nie huaisang's mom #my fic #my fics #child development #same headcanons as three times the charm #Anonymous

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sapiowoman28 · 3 years

Text

I can, I can't : Part 1 of 3

Pairing: Jaemin x female reader

Gener: best friends to lovers au, smut, fluff

Warning: mentions of sex, masturbation (Female)

Summary: Jaemin and Y/N are part of a group of best friends. One day, things change.....

They called themselves the dropouts. Brought up in good Catholic families, active within the Church community as kids, Catholic school education... the works. They then grew up and stopped going.

It wasn't some group thing were everyone agreed to stop going altogether at the same time. It was more like, one by one, they stopped going.

Jeno was the first to stop, at 15, after his parents got divorced. He became angry and withdrawn. By 16 he was mixing with the wrong crowd - think underaged drinking, partying, It was only after a close brush with the law that he - literally and figuratively - sobered up and decided to focus on healthier pursuits like education and sports. Thankfully too, the old Jeno that everyone knew and love came back.

Then were was Renjun. Renjun was always the one who wasn't really into religion anyway. He was more apt to believing in aliens and ghosts. His mother kept him going for as long as she could. By 18 he was out.

Haechan, as he got older, became a sporadic goer. After moving out on his own to live with the guys and Y/N in an apartment closer to campus, he stopped too.

Y/N? The older she grew, the more she learnt about the importance of gender equality. The more she embraced feminism, the more she found some church teachings hard to swallow.

All was left, of course, was Jaemin. Now Jaemin, he was still a "good boy", faithfully going to Church every Sunday. It wasn't that he was extremely religious. It was more that he had gone to Church every single week all his life. To not go one week felt odd and different.

The good thing was, nobody made fun of him or tried to stop him from going. Jeno even woke him up on Sunday mornings before he went for his 10km runs just so Jaemin would get to mass on time. (Mass is what Catholics call a church service.)

Y/N enjoyed hanging out with her friends. She was like one of the boys. It had always been like that since they were young. Everyone who knew Y/N knew she was not to be messed with. Not only was she capable of kicking anyone's balls, she also had four bros who would come after their ass too. In fact, guys who were interested in dating her would often try to get in good standing with the four guys so life would be easier for them. So it was hardly surprising that Y/N had never had her heart broken.

The problem was, Y/N was the one breaking hearts. Commitment wasn't her strongest suit, and more often than not she'd break off with whoever she was seeing with very trivial reasons, First she was dating Xiaojun. Then 7 months later she broke it off with him because apparently he "sucked at making out". The truth was, Xiaojun was good enough in bed but Y/N wanted to date the more exciting Yang Yang after meeting him at a frat party her gal friends dragged her to and making out with him. So Yang Yang it was. For a while she was happy. But then 10 months passed and Yang Yang was history. Now it seemed, was some guy called Lucas.

"Now, before you guys misunderstand, Lucas is not my boyfriend." Y/N declared over a pizza with Jaemin one Saturday night. "He's just... a friend..."

Jaemin raised his eyebrow. "You mean a friend with benefits? Cos based on what we have to hear every single Friday night, none of us think you guys are friends. Speaking of which.... Jeno wants me to talk to you."

"Let me guess, you lost rock paper scissors. Again. And that's why you're the one speaking to me."

"Well, we have house rules to follow..." Jaemin started, looking somewhat uncomfortable.

"Jeno and his stupid house rules." Y/N sighed. "What now? I can't bring Lucas home?"

"It's getting kind of weird for all of us...."

"You guys bring girls home all the time!" Y/N protested.

"I don't." Jaemin said. It was true.

"Jeno does. Haechan does. Even Renjun! Remember that weird Yoga chick he was seeing?"

"But they're not loud. Lucas sounds like he has a loudhailer in his throat and it's weird hearing him......we end up having to use headphones."

"I've tried asking him to tone it down. But he gets too excited when I blow him..." Y/N grinned as Jaemin covered his ears with his hands, not wanting to hear the details.

"Look, Jeno says he appreciates that YOU have gotten less loud since that time you were dating Yang Yang. But Lucas he's just.... too expressive. Can't you do it at his house or something? It's not the moaning as much as the dirty talk, you know?" Jaemin's voice was getting tinier and tinier.

"If Jeno has a problem, why can't he tell me himself?" I know it's not Haechan or Renjun who are complaining. Haechan's always gaming with his stupid headphones on and Renjun's always listening to music on his noise cancelling ones."

Jaemin sighed. "Don't put me in a tough spot, Y/N..."

He looked at her with puppy dog eyes.

"Fine. I'll speak to Lucas. But I'm only doing it cos of you, cos you good Catholic boy and virgin and all."

Jaemin rolled his eyes. "For the last time, Y/N, I'm not a virgin!"

Lucas took the news surprisingly well and he was happy to have her hang at his apartment instead. Which turned out to be a better thing, since his apartment was bigger and his housemates were never around. Y/N wondered why she insisted on making out at her apartment to begin with.

"I'm surprised Jeno was the one with the problem.." Lucas said after they had made out and she was snuggling in his arms.

"He has all these rules. The worst part is he makes Jaemin speak to me instead of telling me directly."

"It makes sense. You and Jaemin are close."

"I'm close to all four of them."

"No no no." Lucas said, "Each of them has a different thing with you."

"Explain, Mr Wong." she said, looking up at him.

"I think Jeno knows both of you have strong characters so he has Jaemin speak to you instead when there's an issue so you guys won't argue. He prefers to keep things light, so the most you're gonna get is Jeno making fun of you for having a thing for foriegn men."

"What about Haechan?"

"Haechan's your gaming bestie. You talk about gaming, and game together. But he'd kick the ass of anyone who gives you trouble."

"I think I'm least close to Renjun."

"I don't think it's that. It's more Renjun is kind of in his own world. He's like that with everyone. But he feels close to you guys."

Y/N was impressed.

"What about Jaemin?"

"Jaemin's like your total opposite. But you guys get each other. I like him. He's a good guy."

"Yeah he's a virgin." Y/N joked.

"He's a good looking guy! Heck, if I was a chick I'd go after him man!" Lucas said, his eyes expressive as always.

"Well, he's a good guy. I've never seen him bring a girl home."

"Come on man, when it comes to hormones, even good guys turn bad."

Lucas was driving her home when she got a call from Jaemin.

"Wassup?"

"Are you alone?" Jaemin asked. He sounded strange. "I need help."

"Are you ok?" Y/N asked. "I'm with Lucas. Where are you?"

"Oh. I'll call someone else..."

"Don't be an idiot, Jaemin. Where are you?"

"Hospital." he said. "Can you come? Just don't tell anyone anything. Not even Lucas."

She found him in a bad state at the hospital. Sitting in a daze, blood stains on his crumpled shirt. Y/N had never seen Jaemin look so small.

"Hey" she half whispered. He looked up.

"I can go now. I got an x-ray done. My nose is not broken. And it's finally stopped bleeding." he said. "I already collected my medicines. Mostly painkillers."

"What happened?" she asked.

"I don't want to talk about it." he said.

"Let's get home and get you out of these bloody clothes. And then you can tell me after you've had a good night's sleep."

"Can i sleep in your room tonight?" he asked. It was an unsual request. "I'm feeling quite shaken."

"Yeah. Sure. Let's do that."

It was 2am and he still couldn't sleep. She could feel him toss and turn next to her.

"Jae."

"Sorry."

"No, I can't sleep either."

He sat up.

"I need to get my ID card back. Can you follow me tomorrow?"

"Your ID card?"

"I was fooling around with a first year chick in her house. Her parents came back and caught us. Her dad took my ID away, said he was going to lodge a police report against me for tresspassing his house and taking advantage of his daughter. Well, that's after he beat me up."

Y/N sat up. This was interesting, she thought.

"She's 18?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"18 is legal you dumbass." she slapped her forehead.

"I thought it was 21.."

Y/N groaned. "I can't believe you're so stupid."

"But the trespassing thing?"

"They don't have a case Jae. I'm sure you can prove you were invited there. Even if she lies and said she didn't invite you. They can't prove it beyond a reasonable doubt."

"I'm so glad you're studying law."

"And Jaemin?"

"What?"

"It's illegal for him to detain your ID. YOU can report him."

"Oh. I didn't know that."

"Can you go sleep now that you know you're not actually in trouble?"

"Yes. Thanks Y/N." he said, turning to face the opposite side.

But Y/N couldn't sleep. Her mind was running a million miles a minute. Jaemin made out with someone. What was he like when making out? Was he gentle? Was he sweet like he always was to everyone? Was he a dom or sub? What did he do with the girl? Did he have fun?

Her own thoughts made her sick. Feeling a stir in her stomach made her sick. This was her best friend she was thinking of. She had to stop. Maybe she needed a shower.

Taking a towel with her to the bathroom, she shut the door, stripping quickly and getting under the hot jets of water. Damn it, Y/N, she scolded herself. Not Na Jaemin. What happened to your thing for Chinese guys?

She soaped herself trying to escape the mental picture of Jaemin, between the girl's thighs, lapping on her clit mercilessly, his eyes twinkling like they would whenever Jeno or Haechan said something witty. Suddenly, she was thinking of him between her legs, lapping at her core.

She brought her fingers to her clit, rubbing them from side to side. She leaned against the bathroom wall, moving more aggressively. She was wet. Biting her lip she pushed two fingers into her pussy, thrusting them in and out, the sound of the shower masking the wet noises as her fingers moved.

The muscles in her stomach were tightening. She could no longer hold back, thinking of Jaemin thrusting into her, looking at her with an intense gaze. She wanted him bad.

Slowly she came undone, as she moaned into her hands while cumming.

Suddenly, someone was knocking aggressively on the bathroom door. Y/N froze.

"I need to pee!" Haechan shrieked. "Hurry! I need to go back to my game!"

"Give me 2 minutes I'll be done." Y/N said, drying herself with her towel and getting dressed, mind still dazed from thinking about Jaemin. She knew their friendship was never going to be the same ever again.

She was just wondering how easy or hard it was going to be, to get Jaemin to join her on the other side.

#nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream smut #nct dream jaemin #nct dream jeno #nct dream haechan #nct dream renjun #wayv lucas #wayv yangyang #wayv xiaojun #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct smut

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fernpost · 3 years

Text

Cycle 0 - Interviews

[read on ao3]

[next]

Taako Taaco. 114. Elf. Wizard; Specialization in transmutation and inventive magical applications.

Previous experience: Top of class at Tredore, Academy of Magics and Technology; recently graduated.

Criminal Record: Multiple counts of petty theft.

Davenport likes to think of himself as calm and composed. It’s hard to throw him off. He has to be in order to have gotten this far in his mission as fast as he has.

But when he turns around from shutting the door to see his interviewee with his feet kicked up on the table, twirling a wand through his fingers, he’s a little shocked. He’s been doing these interviews for two days now, and even the more relaxed and confident people have held a bit more sense for decorum.

It’s a bit rude.

It’s also a little interesting.

He sits at his desk, pulling the elf’s papers away from his boots (shiny, and though they look expensive he can see they’re worn down and well taken care of) and glances down. “Tell me, Taako Taaco, what makes you want to explore the planerverse?”

“Bored.”

If the feet on the desk threw him off for a second, that floors him entirely. “Bored?”

“I’ve got nothing else to do on this plane, why not, you know?”

“No burning desire to go further than any being has gone before?” That’s one of the normal responses, the well-planned out speeches he keeps getting in response to his opening question.

The elf crosses his feet, leaning back somehow further into the provided chair. Davenport worries for a second that he may fall as he continues on, “that’s cool too, I guess. But I figure, why wouldn’t you want the great Taaco name aboard your ship.”

Davenport picks up a pen from his table and makes a small note on the paperwork, “no offense, Mr. Taaco, but you’re rather cavalier about this interview that determines whether or not you’re accepted into a program that may redefine our understanding of the world.”

The elf shrugs and takes his feet off of Davenport’s desk, flashing him a smirk, “you’ve seen my sister’s paperwork, yeah? No way you’re not going to accept her, and we’re a package deal. Says it right there in bold at the top of my application, my man.” It does, in fact, say that at the top. Cursive words noting how he refuses to accept any position on the ship if his sister isn't there too. When reviewing who he was interviewing today, he saw similar words on Lup Taaco’s paperwork.

“You’re very confident in your sister’s abilities.” Davenport begins, pausing for a second as he notes the way the elf begins to tense up before continuing, “however, I wouldn’t sell yourself so short. You also graduated top of your class, and excelled in the art of transmutation multiple times. One of your letters of recommendation even noted how you made many spells easier to cast, somatically speaking.”

“What can I say, I’ll find any short cut I can.”

Davenport makes another note on his paper. “Now, I do need to ask about your record of petty theft.”

“Oh, natch.”

Lup Taaco. 114. Elf. Wizard; Specialization in evocation and applied magic regarding planar research.

Previous experience: Top of class at Tredore, Academy of Magics and Technology; recently graduated.

Criminal Record: Multiple counts of petty theft.

“Lup Taaco, it is nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Captain.” The woman in front of him smiles. The resemblance to her brother couldn’t be more clear, and though her demeanor is quite similar, she at least doesn’t have her feet on his desk.

Not that his desk is anything fancy, but the point stands. “I’m not technically the captain yet, you know.”

“Potato, potato.”

Davenport is fairly certain that’s not how that phrase is used. “You did research into the planes at Tredore, correct?”

“Quite a bit, yeah. I’m sure my brother told you?”

The slight tilt of her head and lit of her voice tells Davenport this is some sort of test, which is confusing and a bit disconcerting, considering he is the one conducting the interview. He checks a quick box on his papers. “He talked you up a bit, yes. But this is your own interview, and I wanted to discuss your own knowledge with you, personally.”

She smiles, a touch more warmth to it than her previous attitude. “Oh, of course. Did quite a bit of studying at Tredore. First real school we attended. Kinda boring at times, you know?”

“If you’re accepted into this program, it’s going to be four intense months of studying and teaching you the more complex workings of the ship. Plus the two months of actually being on the ship.”

“That’s the fun stuff. Not a third semester in a row of another language I already figured out most of years ago.”

“How many languages do you speak, Ms. Taaco?”

“Including common, five languages.”

“Impressive.” Davenport himself only speaks three. “Now, I would like to ask you about your criminal record, if you don’t mind?”

Her smile grew sharp as she laughs.

Honestly, he isn’t surprised. Her explanation is the same as her brothers. Grew up on the road, needed food and other items on occasion. Didn’t always run fast enough. Davenport can’t fault them, and certainly won’t hold it against them.

He glances down at her paperwork, about to ask another question about her education, when she speaks up. “I’ve got a question for you, Captain.”

“Oh?”

“The ship- we’re really going with the name ‘The Starblaster’?”

Davenport sighs. He knew this question was coming, but he was expecting it to come during a press conference from a reporter, not a potential shipmate. “Yes. To be fair, it was a communal name we put to a vote from everyone who worked on building the engine.”

Ms. Taaco smiles. “Dope.”

Barry J. Bluejeans. 37 years old. Human. Wizard; specialization in applied magic regarding bonds and planar research.

Previous experience: Current assistant professor at Duffman University of the Arcane, part-time employee at the Institute of Planer Research and Exploration.

Criminal Record: Previous altercations regarding necromancy; no crimes against the nature of life and death ever committed.

Mr. Bluejeans is an interesting man. By the look of him, you’d expect to see him fumbling his way through a PTA meeting for his two kids. Instead, Davenport is staring down the word ‘necromancy’ on his paperwork on an application regarding literal planar travel on a ship called 'the Starblaster.'

So far, the interview has been going well. He’d listened to the man explain his research into the arcane, and he’d understood planar travel as well as any of the current scientists and engineers at the Institute. He was called in often for conferences and meetings about the bond engine. He’d seen the man walking around on occasion. They’d never been in a meeting together before, but he’d seemed nice.

But he also had a history of necromancy.

Now, Davenport doesn’t like to judge people. However, being in an enclosed space with someone who needed to specify he had never technically committed “crimes against the nature of humanity” isn’t the most comforting.

But, he was a smart man. Easy to get along with, too. So far. Necromancy notwithstanding.

Best to get it over with, “so, Mr. Bluejeans. I do need to ask about your criminal record-”

“Oh! Yeah, I never killed anyone. Or un- killed anyone. Uh, resurrected, I mean. Just did lots of studying into the application of necromancy and necromantic spells. Got in trouble because I toed the line of ‘research’ and ‘bringing my cat back to life,’ but got a stern talking to. Didn’t try it again, and don’t plan on needing to deal with those types of authorities again.”

Okay, normal enough answer, far as the situation applies-

“My current research into it has stayed purely theoretical, and it won’t interfere with the mission at all.”

So the man is still into necromancy.

Davenport glances down at the man’s file, thick with it’s attached papers Bluejeans has done on planar research. He’s not even stuck up about his level of education, and that’s extremely rare for the field.

Holding back a sigh, Davenport asks, “Can you explain the paper you wrote on the outer planes interactions with the inner planes for me?”

It was a really good paper.

But the man is still into necromancy.

Lucretia. 20. Human. Chronicler; Specialization in journalism.

Previous experience: Due to multiple NDA, she is unable to give us the exact number and titles of books she has written, but she sent letters of recommendation from Duke Rensburg, Lady Norabelle, and Warren of the Seatree Clan.

Criminal Record: Acquisition and attempted use of a false ID.

“So, Ms. Lucretia, I understand you cannot provide us with most examples of your works, but from what you have provided, you seem to be very, very good.”

“I like to think so, yes.” The young woman in front of him seems polite. She’s quiet; he saw her waiting outside with a few others before her interview, and while most of them were engaged in some awkward small talk, she sat away from them. Likely partially due to her age- she is much younger than the people outside- but she also simply seems quiet.

Which wouldn’t be the worst quality in someone you would be sharing a small, enclosed space with for an extended period of time. But, if she couldn’t bond with the others sufficiently, the bond engine won’t work.

(Hell, the bond engine was already finicky, they figured out the tech only a month ago, and they only have four months to bond an entire crew to pilot it and-)

“Can you explain to me why you acquired a fake ID and tried to use it at a, uh,” Davenport glances down at the records in front of him, holding back a chuckle, “at the forbidden section of the Library of Runar?”

Lucretia looks uncomfortable for a second, and he’s sure if the lighting in the room were better he would be able to see her flush with embarrassment. She gives him a hesitant smile, “I can’t get into the explicit details, but I was working on a book for an older client whose memory was becoming patchy, and I wanted to confirm some details before I put their name to it. They wouldn’t allow me into the section without the proper documents, but my client refused to agree that I should double check his work, even though I was almost certain he was wrong, so I simply… found a way to get past their guard. I wasn’t going to steal anything and I was going to use the proper equipment to read through the documents.”

Davenport smiles, “pursuit of knowledge and truth is important to you, then?”

“I don’t think spreading lies, especially in that context, is very honorable, no.” Her hands are folded in her lap now, and she seems a bit more relaxed.

Considering the others he is planning on accepting, he may be wrong about her getting along with them. Anyone willing to break the law just to prove an old man wrong would at least get along with him. Davenport refuses to have any pushovers aboard his ship.

Magnus Burnsides. 19. Fighter; Specialization in protection fighting and mechanical engineering.

Previous experience: Current bouncer at Apex Club. Currently enrolled in Gallier’s Fighter Academy and College.

Criminal Record: One count of assault and battery, appealed for defense of another person present. One count of indecent exposure and public intoxication.

Davenport will be the first to admit it can be tricky to follow human aging patterns, but he knows he’s not mistaken in thinking the man in front of him is barely out of “child” territory. Nineteen is a very, very small amount of time to be alive. Also, a very, very small amount of time to learn important things, like how to run what is basically a ship right out of a science fiction novel- complete with breakthrough technology.

Despite this, it’s hard to not find the young man in front of him to be endearing, and mostly knowledgeable in the things they need him to be.

“Magnus. You’re very young, one of the youngest applicants we have. What makes you think you’re qualified as the head of security of the ship?”

The young man in front of him- Gods, he really is young- grins and lifts his arms to flex, a show of pride and ego almost unbefitting of an interview setting, “Have you seen my muscles? I’m very strong, and a very good fighter.”

Many of today’s interviews have been quite different than he was expecting.

“I was referring more to job experience.”

“Oh!” Magnus shifts in his seat, fingers drumming against the table as he thinks. “I worked as a bouncer for a club while I was in college and did, if I must toot my own horn, a very good job. You should have a letter of recommendation from the owner-” He leans forwards, reaching a hand out as if to look through his own files to show him the letter.

“Yes, I did read through it. She was very thorough in stating how eager you were to help.” Davenport glances down at the papers in front of him, holding back a sigh. It truly was a glowing review of this young man. While his grades from the aforementioned college weren’t the highest, especially in classes one might consider important for an institute of planar research, the two letter of recommendations he submitted from teachers of his explained how Burnsides was very persistent when he wanted to learn something he didn’t know. He also had taken quite a few classes regarding vehicles- not enough to claim the young man was an expert but enough to provide a solid basis to show him how things worked and could be repaired on the ship.

The kid’s attitude was something of a breath of fresh air in this place. However, there was one glaring concern.

“I was also a bit concerned about the criminal record we have on file for you. Assault and battery as well as the indecent exposure and public-”

“In my defense for the second one, I was drunk with some friends and maybe thought it’d be funny to streak in the lake. Who hasn’t been to a party that gets a little out of hand.” He holds his hands out as if to say “am I right?”

Off the record, Davenport is inclined to agree that he was right. On the record, he is choosing to ignore it. “And the assault and battery? The file says it was in defense of a young person.”

Burnsides grins, “that’s how I got hired as the bouncer!”

He waits a moment, expecting Magnus to continue. When it seems the young man is assuming that is enough explanation, he prompts, “by beating up a man outside the club?”

“Yeah! He was harassing someone outside, and I was walking home and passed by. I told him to step off, and he didn’t. So I decked him, and he was out right away.”

It lined up with the records he had, and honestly, seeing someone so ready to step up to the defense of a stranger was a good quality. Better than some of the older applicants who were much more… formal in their training. He wonders briefly how Burnsides would react to an altercation against someone with magic.

Glancing down at his records, he guesses he would run headfirst without thinking.

Stifling a small grin, Davenport continues, “Now, tell me. Assume we’re up in space, and something goes wrong with the bond engine. What would your course of action be, Mr. Burnsides?”

Merle Hitower Highchurch. 214. Cleric; Specialization in botany, religion, and medical treatment.

Previous experience: Current botanist at the Institute of Planar Research and Exploration. Professor of botany at Narvick’s University for four years.

Criminal Record: Multiple counts of loitering.

The door is pushed all the way open before Davenport can even call out the next person.

A short dwarf slides into the room with a wide grin, “hey Dav!” A mug of tea is pressed into his hands.

“Hello, Merle. You do know this needs to be at least a little formal, yes?”

“Formal schmormal. Ask me your silly questions already, bud.” Merle Highchurch, resident botanist at the Institute of Planar Research and Exploration, plops right down in the seat he’d taken to commandeering once a week, for the past three weeks.

Davenport had seen him around before, but a botanist in an institute designed for exploring other planes that had little capabilities to actually go to those places yet was rarely busy, and even more rarely called upon. He still barely knew the guy, but after the day they’d gotten stuck in the elevator for ten minutes when it broke down, the dwarf had come to his office for tea each Wednesday.

It was a bit strange, but the tea was good.

“Tell me about your work experience.”

Merle laughs heartily, “they barely have me do anything around here, ‘cept tend to the couple of plants they’ve grabbed from the ground plane.”

“It’s the Elemental Plane of Earth, and don’t sell yourself short, Merle. This is basically a job interview, you know.”

Merle slurps loudly at his own mug, “aren’t you planning on nepotism hiring me, because we’re buds?”

“That isn’t even what that word means, Merle.”

“Isn’t it?”

Davenport stares into the tea, “is this made from the Earth plant?”

“Maybe?”

Davenport. 276. Captain and navigator; Specialization in mechanical engineering and arcane components combined with contemporary technology.

Previous Experience: Crewmate on the Lady Blue for twenty years. Graduated from Grensville University. Current staff at the Institute of Planar Research and Exploration.

Criminal Record: Unlawful resistance of orders from captain, raising of commotion on board ship while employed.

Davenport handed the six files over to Selune, “These are them.”

The halfling woman flips through them, eyebrows raising higher with each one she sees. “You’re sure you grabbed the right ones? A few of these I understand, but you do know we had the Issaiah Broler apply.”

He folds his hand in front of him, nodding. “I also know that during the interview he made me want to pour my tea on his lap. There’s no chance of getting the bond engine going with him. These are the six I picked. They’re all qualified- and the ones that are less educated in the specifics in the field I’m sure will pick up on the important information quickly. The Taaco twins already will give the bond engine a huge boost. Ms. Lucretia will ensure we have everything chronicled, something I’m sure you can appreciate, Selune. Mr. Bluejeans previous work shows he will thrive given the opportunities awaiting us. Mr. Highchurch is an educated man, and I trust him to keep the crew healthy and provide ample information on anything botany related we encounter, and I’m certain Mr. Burnsides will provide ample help in any task we show him how to do.” He sighs, glancing out the window of her office. There were a few people lingering outside in the courtyard of the Institute. “We have been given a tremendous opportunity to explore beyond what we can imagine, Selune. The last thing I want is to be bogged down by people stuck in their ways, who have been working in this field long enough to have their preconceived notions about what to expect and who will react badly when they’re proven wrong. I trust my own judgement in picking a crew, and I hope you trust my abilities to get these people ready to set sail in four months.”

What he doesn’t say is that he doesn’t want a bunch of stuffy jackasses on his ship. He’s not even sure picking all the over-qualified people would pass through the higher-ups' inspection of the crew. The people he picked were qualified enough to get a quick sign-off, but not too much. Anyone “overqualified” would probably get rejected. The ship had been built in basically six months. It’d get them off the ground, sure. It wasn’t going to explode on them once they got up there, but it wasn’t safe. There was a reason Davenport was the captain at all.

The six candidates in those files didn’t have a name for themselves as “important” to any stuffy scientific group or noble family. These people he picked were just that- people. A group of people who he believed deserved this opportunity. If anyone was getting the chance to make a name for themselves- to have the chance to redefine everything they know about the planar systems, he wanted to make sure they deserved the chance. A dangerous chance, sure. But what was science if not a little risky.

She sighs, opening the file on top. Her hand reaches for her pen, “Davenport, I got the final say on the name of the ship, I suppose the least I can do is give you final say on the crew.” She begins to write ‘approved’ at the top of the file, flipping through each one before giving him a pointed look. “But when I get angry calls about how you approved a bunch of nobodies and two people not even old enough to drink, I’m transferring them straight to your crystal.”

“And I will not be answering a single one.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to, Captain.”

#davenport #taako #lup #magnus burnsides #lucretia #barry bluejeans #merle highchurch #taz balance #the stolen century #my works

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