#plus it means something in italian and i am not smart enough to come up with something similar so

[madafact]

looking back to push on

i have always felt that i was the black sheep of the family.

a bunch of italian names, and then the irish one comes out. no we're not irish and have no roots there. it was just a thing....

furthermore showing me that intention was never assigned to my life, kind of just like a left overs baby. ehh, give em whatever is left over.

anthony got named after family, i got named after someone in the news.

wow

even when i bring up this example, it does not land, in fact its another one of those, 'you see the worst in everything' situations. i have always been the debbie downer. the david downer, the brendon bummer. on my birth certificate my name is spelled brendan. but i was told my name is brendon.

i pursued my discomfort around my absent mom early in my 20's. this led me to so many realizations about myself and the setting i was raised in. lots of blame, lots of shame, lots of suicide, lots of misery.

i was institutionalized at age 8 for suicidal thoughts and "actions'

can an 8 year old load a gun? not if we strap them down and isolate them. thanks terrie.

so i have always felt out of place, the accident child, the one who kind of just pushed his way in. gregg my father likes to bring up the fact i was a 'cocaine baby'

meaning i was born withdrawling from coke and still he thinks my mom wasnt an addict or even a source of difficulty for my life or how i function in it.

he literally brought it up during a commemorative speech for anthony at a local dinner with friends, you should have seen their reactions and what they said afterward? "why the fuck did he bring that up" thanks gregg.

so we are here, the chosen son is gone, i heard at dinner tonight that the masters family died with anthony as i am incapable of having kids i guess. again, dont trust the accident child.

this is all after i spent the last ten plus years trying to fix the situtation of the family mistrust and blah blah blah.

lynne passed away and i became the center for the rage, guilt and shame that had previously been reserved for her. i was told i was an arrogant prick trying to steal assets and take everything for myself.

this is after i offered 100k for paying down the mortgage.

"this is my asset, you got yours now leave mine alone' thanks gregg

but i am here, in a space that i planned for. i saw the writing on the wall, given my future and well being, these people would throw me under the bus for their own gain and satisfaction.

i bought a van, built it out, got a dog, and said goodbye. i had a disclaim of inheretence all set up and ready to be notarized that would have made anthony greggs only heir. but i waited, something told me it wasnt the right time.

now the accident child gets it all, and that is not okay, so it all must be destroyed. thats where we are.

gregg is convinced i am the problem and he uses a victim mentality to squash any ability to have insight into his role.

he sits there while being regaled of anthonys struggle and not an ounce of realization comes out that he was the example that anthony learned to follow. not him, never, it was lynne and terrie, and me. me, 3 years younger caused all the discomfort and deceit that lead anthony down this path of self destruction.

so this is where i am at. i am grabbing my dog, taking van and going to do what i planned. gregg and terrie can fight eachother to death, destroy the houe and all the 'family assets' and thats just what it is

i knew this was coming. my journals are proof. i have physical proof that my mind wasnt going crazy, but actually seeing things as they were.

why would i trust people who have never had my well being in mind?

its always been about them, what the could gain, how they could benefit, and anyone else be dammed. i was smart enough to read the writing on the wall. and here is comes.

thanks for the lesson anthony.

[purplepatton]

i’m working on my “l'elisir d'amore” au and i was trying to decide what to call deceit and then i gave up and now i’m just gonna give him the same name that the orginal character has because it starts with a “d” and i’m too lazy to come up with anything else lol

#tw deceit #katrambles #yeah i didn't want to put too much effort into it lol #it's a long name but ya know it has the same effect #plus it means something in italian and i am not smart enough to come up with something similar so #*jazz hands* #i'm hoping to post the first part around next week #it's probably gonna be two chapters #three max #so yeah look forward to that!

[pollylynn]

Intruder—A Caskett Future!Fic One-Shot

Title: Intruder WC: 1400 A/N: No Tell Me More tonight. (I swear, I am not trying to drag out the horrible end of this season, I just keep getting home late.) So. Future fic, because @theputz913 got me thinking about it. 

There’s an intruder in the kitchen. A clumsy, angry, foul-mouthed intruder who happens to live here. This is the sense his mind makes of far too many stimuli for this time of night. 

But it’s not night 

That’s probably his mind, too, and he can’t tell if it’s dumb or smart, if it’s helpful or otherwise. It’s probably . . . relevant. His body resents that. His body would prefer to think of his mind as misguided, misinformed, and probably a liar. But his mind probably knows what it’s talking about, even if it’s talking in obscure poetic forms or something equally indecipherable.

His feet are in league with his mind. They are shoving themselves into slippers and completely disrupting the integrity of the blanket burrito he had constructed around himself. With that ruined, he might as well let the rest of himself follow and see what’s to be done about the intruder in the kitchen. 

He can’t find her at first. It’s perplexing. He can definitely hear her. Clumsiness had turned into purposefully destructive energy and the foul-mouthedness shows no signs of letting up. He thinks at first that it’s his eyes rebelling against burrito disruption—his eyes refusing to see anything at all—but it seems to be more than just recalcitrance. 

There’s almost no light. The parts of his body that are not in league with his mind would cast a WTF? glance at the parts of it that are if only there were any part of him that could remember which parts were which, but remembering is hopeless, and anyway his mind is piping up to say that it’s not night, it’s just January. It’s just that stretch of battleship grey weeks when day is subtle to say the least. 

January seems relevant. Battleship grey seems relevant. Not night seems relevant, if only he could remember how, why, to whom. 

“I’m a morning person.” She appears suddenly from behind the breakfast bar with a clang of cast iron meeting cooktop. “I am,” she adds with a sidelong glance at the skillet she’s just slapped down. She wants the record to show there’s a weapon within easy reach. 

“Obviously.” He doesn’t mean to let that slip out. He’s not sure who or what his mouth is in league with, but he definitely did not mean to let that slip out. He’d fear for his life, but she’s slumped forward with her elbows on the counter, so unless she’s finally developed the power to murder him with her mind, he’s probably safe-ish. 

“God, Castle,” she groans and lifts a pair of pleading eyes with dark, dark smudges beneath them. “Can you . . . ?” She waves a hand at the counter behind her where, he sees now, she has a amassed a completely indiscriminate selection of things from the fridge, the cabinets, and who knows where else. 

“I can.” He snaps into action. He scurries around to the inside of counter and reaches for the elbow still planted against the granite. “And you should—“ 

Words fail him as he stands her up. Sit. That’s the word he was looking for a moment ago, but now he doesn’t know what word should follow. 

“I know.” She jerks her arm away from him. She moves as if to pull her robe defensively around her, but then she thinks better of it. She stands straight and whisks the robe back like a gunslinger about to draw. “I’m huge,” she says, and the expression on her face is this fascinating thing that’s two parts conspiratorial grin, one part murderous you-did-this glare. “I’m fucking overnight huge.” 

He wonders about the expression on his own face. He suspects it’s one part chagrin and too many parts you-bet-your-ass-I-did-that. He suspects it is the wrong expression, and the narrowing of her eyes confirms it. 

“Sit.” He swallows hard before his expression can get him into any real trouble, and takes her elbow again. The run into gridlock as he tries to move swiftly toward the couch and pillows and blankets, but she clearly wants to hover nearby as he deals with the coffee, as he cooks. “You should sit . . .” He trails off. His eyes sweep ill-advisedly between the sudden, shocking swell of her belly and  the tall stools that, when they went to bed last night, surely surely could not have looked so spindly and fragile and definitely prone to toppling over. “You should be comfortable.” 

Her face crumples. Her mood swings and his swings along with it. He can feel the exhaustion coming off her in waves. He can see that the thought of settling herself on the stool seems about as achievable as climbing Everest at the moment. 

“I wanna watch.” She sniffles. It’s an exhausted sniffle. It’s not actually a teary sniffle, just exhausted, but it bothers her anyway. Her voice drops low. “I wanna talk to you.” 

He’s frozen for a moment. He’s overcome with the sweetness of the slightly sullen admission. He wonders, not for the first time, which of the two of them is supposed to be hormone saturated here. He shakes himself out of it. 

“Wait.” He rushes by, kissing her on the nose as he passes. “Wait right there.” 

He drags the wingback chair over. He parks it just east of the oven door and runs back for the ottoman. He installs her on her relocated throne. He swings her feet up and tucks her in with blankets. She grumbles and swipes at him, but her eyes are closing on her. They’re actually closing. 

It’s convenient. It lets him work quickly. He returns the truly random objects—baking powder, leftover Italian, oyster crackers—back in their rightful places and sets the pot of half-caff to brew while she’s dozing off and works on eggs, on toast, on bacon. Her eyes flutter open every once in a while and she murmurs something that really requires no response. 

She rouses just in time, just as everything’s done, and she’s something closer to bright-eyed. She’s ravenous enough that she’s forgotten that she wanted to watch, she wanted to talk. She’s ravenous enough that she doesn’t object to the plate he brings her right there in the wingback chair, as he leans with his hip against the counter and picks at his own. 

“Tired again,” she announces when her plate is clean. There are spots of slightly miserable pink in her cheeks as she says it. She’s embarrassed, or maybe frustrated with the changes that keep coming at her fast and furious, changes that keep coming from within her. She’s too tired to lift the plate, but she grabs him by his robe when he bends over to retrieve it from her. “Sorry.” 

“No.” He tugs at her ear. A play out of her playbook. “Not sorry. Nothing to be sorry about.” 

“I’m a morning person.” She looks away. “I was going to make breakfast.” 

“Kate, you’re making a person in there.” He budges his way on to the arm of the chair and risks a drum of his fingers on the topmost curve of the bump. “I think, just this once, you can be excused from making breakfast.” 

She gives him a shrug–nod that says she’s not convinced. “This was supposed to be fun.”  He’s frozen again. He doesn’t know what to say. It’s not much of a problem. She seems to have lots to say about it. “They tell you it’s magical and indescribable.” She scowls down at herself. “It’s pretty fucking describable.” 

“Describable. As not . . . fun?”

 He gives her a thin smile. He’s trying to lighten things, which makes him feel like an ass. Maybe lightening is not what she needs. He opens his mouth to apologize, to ask what she needs, but she’s considering it. She’s still scowling down at herself, but she’s smiling, too. There’s that mixture again—conspiratorial grin plus murderous glare. 

“Some of it is.” She startles in the chair. Her eyes go wide and she has to catch her breath. She grabs for his hand and rests it on the curve of her belly. She moves. Their daughter moves like a slow-motion wave and his breath leaves the building entirely. He looks down at her, eyes wide. She smiles up, no murder at all in it now. “Some of it is so much fun.” 

#Castle #Caskett #Castle: Future Fic #Kate Beckett #Richard Castle #Lily Castle #Fic #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Fan Fic #Fan Fiction #Writing

[the-darklings]

i raise you needy!v

well raised and highkey!canon

timeline: post-Prague, pre-Naples by a few months

. 

.

The call comes just past midnight.

Most of the time—correction, all of the time—he would ignore such a call. If someone is stupid enough to try and reach him at this hour, that's their business and mistake to make. Why should he care for stupidity of others?

Especially when he has urgent reports to read and prepare for a meeting tomorrow. He is to attend this meeting on his father's behalf due to his...slipping health. 

There is a change in the air, Santino can detect it and taste it. He knows Gianna is the same. She's pulling her own strings and making her own preparations. 

Camorra is on a brink of a revolution once again and he and his sister are at the helm of it.

However, only one name could ever distract him from his family—only one and he lowers his wine glass for upon spotting it. 

(Name)

Dropping his pen on the documents carelessly, Santino picks up the phone at the second ring. 

"Cara mia," he greets with a slight twitch of his lips and leans back in his leather seat. "So lovely to hear from you."

He tries to imagine you—wherever the Russian might have sent you away—and wonders what horizon you are observing. Outside, the bay of Naples glows in the pale moonlight through the partially opened balcony doors. 

Silence greets him. 

"Bella?"

A rattling, shallow breath echoes in his ear and his slight smile crumbles as he sits up, pressing the phone closer. 

"Where are you?" he demands softly. "Are you injured?"

"I'm...fine."

You don't sound fine. 

You're not fine. 

But you were. You've been doing well. No relapses, slow but steady progress since Chicago. Fewer nightmares, more genuine smiles. He barely checks in with Winston anymore, and the last time he did has been as awkward and as stilted as all the times before it but necessary.  

She's doing well. There was the Casablanca incident but it was harmless. She's stronger now. I think she's finally starting to let it go. 

You are. 

Casablanca has been a small setback—more worry that it was worth because you were fine. When he tracked you down, you had clung to him, arms around his shoulder and soft pants against his neck.

He had chewed out the manager who sat through it all with gritted teeth and pinched expression—apparently your newest friend, and he couldn't help but wonder how you always win loyalty so damn easily in a world where none is given.

Still, he's Camorra heir and she was a newly appointed manager who did not need an enemy. A smart woman if not a highly unpleasant one. 

You had needed him though. 

Didn't allow anyone else to touch you or help you, and through the uncomfortable roll of something he didn't dare to acknowledge as worry in his chest, shone something close to...happiness.

He's been hated, cursed, scorned. 

Never needed—not genuinely. Not without deals or favours or expectations. Not with a sleepy smile and crinkling of eyes as he helped you to bed. 

A vast difference to what he witnessed in Chicago. 

An emptiness still but softer this time. More bearable. 

Now though—

"Water?" he guesses, tense. "Is it getting bad again, cara?"

"Yes."

Santino is not quite sure which question you're responding to but it doesn't matter. 

"Where are you?" he urges, trying to keep his tone calm. Patience, as you always remind him with a judicious grin, is not his strong point. "Tell me where you and I'll send Ares with the jet, amore. She can pick you up and you can stay with me for a few days, hm? Or New York, whichever you prefer."

Somewhere safe. Somewhere where this won't be used against you. 

He feels like punching something. He should call the old man now, warn him. Winston has...something with you that Santino doesn't quite understand. It's an odd bond but you trust the man and Winston has proven that he...cares. 

"No. Can you..." you breathe and he steps from behind the desk, marching towards the balcony. He needs fresh air—your voice— "Could you...just...stay on the phone with me, Santi?"

Santi.

He hates the fact that even now you calling him that makes lightness bloom in his chest. 

Fuck, fuck. 

He has a mountain of work to get through but your voice—

Tiny and scratchy with pain. He doesn't hear tears and feels selfishly grateful for it because he can't imagine not tearing the world apart to find you if he did. See with his own eyes that you will be fine. It's only been three weeks since he's last seen you but it feels like an eternity now.��

"Of course, amore," he reassures and steps into the warm Italian night air, running his hand through his hair. He swallows, listening to your unsteady, slow breaths through the line. "Are you counting?"

A pause. "Yes."

"Ah, that's my girl," it slips out before he can control it, and he rushes ahead before you can comment, "Keep doing that, bella. Would you like me to talk?"

Another breath, steadier this time. "Please."

He's imagined plenty of scenarios in which you may use that word with him but none of them involving this damned pain. 

He fucking hates it.

"My birthday is in a few months," he says conversationally, forcing the loftiness into his words, but his fingers keep flexing against the railing. He stares out towards the sea and wonders where in this wide, wicked world you are. How long it may take to reach you. After Tokyo, every time something goes wrong, he's always intimately aware of the particular disadvantage that is you still being on Tarasov's chain. "I am planning a party. Would you care to come? As my honour guest, of course. Perhaps my plus one as well, yes?"

He wants it. 

That dream of you beside him. 

One day soon you will be free of Tarasov and after that—

Oh, after that. He has every intention of offering you a place in his family, beside him.  

His father's reign is coming to an end and one day he will sit at the very top. 

The Camorra crown will sit on his head and he will spill all the blood needed to get it. 

And when he's Head you will be free. 

Even if it means shredding Viggo Tarasov and his family to pieces. Slowly. For all he's done. 

Blood for blood. 

"I would like that."

He leans over the railing, his fingers rubbing against his temple. 

"Good, amore. How are you? Do you need anything?"

Because he never knows what to expect or what he can do to help with this. 

It's uncomfortable and pitiful to admit his lack of know-how when it comes to these matters. He doesn't understand your demons, not really. He tries but fails most of the time.

Caring is exhausting. But it's you. 

A muffled rustling, and then he hears your voice clearer like you're speaking right into the receiver, "Would you stay with me?" you half-ask and half-plead and it's like a kick to the chest. One of your blade between his ribs. Sinking deeper, deeper, deeper— "On the phone till I fall asleep. Please, Santi."

Fuck.

You are so very, very dangerous. 

Special. Dear.

"You don't need to ask, (Name)."

He's only returning the favour, he reasons, for back when you stayed with him on the phone as he rang you drunk and in need of company. He's never had someone before he could trust with grief. 

He's only returning the favour, he forces himself to repeat.

Over and over.

Like that might change the fact that you could ask him anything with that subdued need in your voice and he would give you everything. 

#santino d'antonio #santino d'antonio x reader #john wick #john wick drabble #john wick imagine #riccardo scamarcio #THIS IS MORE DUAL NEEDINESS but ayyyy also some hints about Sofia *cheers* #fic: children of ares #queue is the enemy of progress

[mikauzoran]

Lila Fake-Dating/Emotional Blackmail Adrienette: Betting Against the House: Chapter One

Read it on AO3: Betting Against the House: Chapter One: The New Deal

Adrien was changing back into his street clothes after an excruciatingly long photoshoot with his least favourite coworker when the door to his dressing room swung open without warning.

He jumped, quickly zipping up his pants with one hand and throwing his opposite arm across his torso to provide some modicum of cover.

“Lila, I’m getting dressed!” he protested as she closed the door behind her and leaned back against it, taking him in with roving eyes and a self-satisfied smirk.

“I know. I like to watch,” she laughed in that bell-like way that everyone thought was so charming as she leered at him, rubbing the side of her thumb back and forth over her bottom lip as her eyes traced every line and curve of him up and down.

He couldn’t contain a shudder of discomfort.

“It’s so cute how shy you are,” she chuckled. “We literally just spent hours hanging all over each other in skimpy clothing for that summer wear shoot, and now you’re embarrassed for me to see you bare-chested?”

She pushed herself off of the door and sauntered over to run her fingers along his shoulders.

He stepped back, shrinking away from her touch. “Sorry. Could you not? I don’t really like being touched.”

This small act of rebellion clearly displeased Lila. Her olive eyes narrowed into a glare, and she strode forward, placing her palm flat on his chest like she owned it.

“You’d better get used to it, then,” she warned, all levity gone from her voice, “because I’ve been thinking. The media has been speculating about our relationship status for several years now, and I’ve decided that it’s time for us to officially start dating publicly.”

Adrien recoiled, pulling away until his back was pressed up against the mirror. “Sorry, but I don’t think so.”

“Too bad you don’t get a say in the matter,” she informed him with authority. “We’re dating now, and you can either do as I say or watch as I spread rumors about Marinette until everyone thinks she’s trash and no one wants to talk to her.”

“Lila,” Adrien hissed low in warning.

She clasped her hands in front of her chest and assumed the higher-pitched, innocent voice she often used when soliciting sympathy or agreement from others. “Because, you know, I’m so worried about Marinette lately. I overheard some of the basketball team members talking about seeing her out late in a skimpy little dress at this bar with a much older man.”

“Lila,” Adrien repeated through gritted teeth, his fingers clenching into fists.

“You don’t think her family is having money trouble, do you?” Lila continued, batting her eyes and playing dumb as she feigned concern. “Has she said anything to anyone? It’s so easy for desperate young women to get into trouble, and I want to make sure we’re doing everything we can to help, if she needs it. That’s what friends are for, am I right?”

“Lila, this is crossing a line,” he growled, standing his ground. “I’m not dating you. In fact, I think it’s time I told my father about your increasingly inappropriate behavior.”

“Try it, and I’ll go to the media about how you’ve been taking advantage of me for years,” she retorted coolly with a shrug of the shoulder, always master of the situation. “I’ll tell them I didn’t say anything sooner because I wanted so badly to succeed in modeling, and if that was the price of success…”

He rolled his eyes. “You can’t touch me, Lila. I am the Gabriel brand. Try it, and my father will bury you. You’ll never work anywhere again. Trust me. My father is a very petty, vengeful man.”

She held up her hands in surrender, conceding the point.

“Fair,” she agreed. “Maybe I can’t slander you personally, but there’s no one to protect poor Marinette. I can and will burn her to the ground,” she promised. “Your father may like her now, but just wait until he hears about how Marinette’s been using you, making you fall in love with her so that she can get a leg up in the world.”

Adrien stiffened, a rush of fear streaming in.

He didn’t think his father would turn on Marinette so easily, but…Adrien had seen Lila in action before, and the young woman was very persuasive.

“You couldn’t protect her,” Lila snickered, crossing her arms with a venomous smirk. “If you tried to refute my claims, your father would just see how in love with her you are, and you’d only confirm her guilt in his mind, and Gabriel Agreste is a very powerful enemy, Adrien. As you say, he could keep her from working anywhere if he wanted to.”

Adrien’s chest tightened, making it harder to breath as he tried to come up with a rebuttal to her logic.

“You may be untouchable, but Marinette isn’t,” she sang, seeing from the distressed look on his face that she had won. “Only you can protect her, Adrien…so what will it be? You can give in now or watch me ruin her only for you to end up giving in later. Which do you prefer?”

His shoulders slumped, and he looked away, muttering, “Fine. Just don’t push your luck on the PDA because I really don’t like being touched, and someone’s bound to notice that it looks like I’m under duress,” he warned in what he knew deep down to be a futile attempt to set boundaries.

“Noted,” she hummed generously, watching as he retrieved his shirt and pulled it on. “So long as you know that no one would believe you if you told them. Everyone knows that any seventeen-year-old boy would kill for the attentions of a beautiful, Italian model like me. No one would believe that you were the victim here.”

He kept his gaze down as he re-rolled the sleeves of his overshirt into cuffs. “…Why do you even want to date me anyway?” he wondered sulkily. “It’s not like we’re really friends. I mean, we’ve never actually gotten to know one another because everything out of your mouth is a lie, and it’s not like we’ve ever had scintillating conversations for you to observe my quick wit or charming personality. I honestly don’t get what you see in me.”

She snorted at his naiveite, going back to leaning and crossing her arms as she watched him get dressed. “You’re a fool if you think anyone will ever be interested in you for your mind or your personality.”

Adrien flinched, wounded by the way that she laughed at his romantic idealism.

“People are only ever going to want you for your money, your body, or your influence,” she informed matter-of-factly.

He wanted to tell her she was wrong, but…he’d been one hundred percent himself around Ladybug and Marinette, and neither of them seemed interested in him romantically. Meanwhile, hordes of fangirls were just lining up for him to autograph their bosoms because they idolized the public image he projected as the face of the Gabriel brand.

“My particular aim is to use your influence to get a leg up in the world,” she confessed, and he found it ironic that she was the one guilty of something she was all too ready and willing to accuse Marinette of.

“You’re useful for getting my name out there and opening metaphorical doors to future opportunities,” she continued to talk about him like he was an object without feelings, meant only to be used until he was used up.

It reminded him of the way his father talked about him, and that added an extra sting because it made him think that if he were to go to his father about what was happening, Gabriel would only scoff and blame Adrien for getting himself into such a mess in the first place.

He could easily conjure his father’s voice saying that Adrien deserved what he was going through because Adrien hadn’t been smart or strong or clever enough. He could imagine his father berating him for being weak and letting his feelings for someone trap him.

Gabriel might believe Adrien, but he wouldn’t do anything to save him.

“It also doesn’t hurt that you’re a nice piece of eye candy,” Lila laughed, clearly enjoying herself and luxuriating in her victory. “Plus, it’ll make some of my rivals jealous, and I just feed off of their envy,” she chortled.

Adrien looked up at her with a frown, utterly baffled by her behavior, not for the first time. “Why are you like this? Why can’t you ever just…I don’t know. Tell the truth? Be nice to people? Try to work your way up in the world through effort and perseverance?”

Lila’s laughter stopped as her brow creased and her eyes narrowed. “What? You mean like Marinette?” she scoffed, giving her hair an indignant toss. “Adrien, you live in such a fantasy world. I would have thought your father had taught you better.”

Adrien tried not to let her see how her words cut him. He didn’t want her to think she had any kind of power over him when it was really only that she sounded so much like his father that it almost felt like Gabriel himself delivering the admonishment.

“I am the way I am because that’s how people actually succeed. The goody-goody path doesn’t work,” she asserted, and he wanted to ask her if she had ever tried it.

“Soft-hearted people like you might not like it, but you’ll see when you grow up and open your eyes that I’m right. I know what I want, and I’m willing to do whatever I need to do to get it. Maybe you think that makes me a bad person,” she allowed, “but I’m not. I’m just living in the real world. Soon you’ll realize that this is what life is really like. You’ll see that I’m right. I am the way I am because people like me are the only ones who win.”

“I hope you’re wrong,” he whispered at the end of her diatribe.

She gave her hair another flip and turned on her heel. “Keep dreaming, then. In the meantime, let’s get a move on. You’re giving me a ride to school. If we leave now, we can make it back by the end of the lunch break, and that will be the perfect time to announce to everyone that we’re officially dating.”

Adrien shuddered but didn’t protest as he followed her out of the dressing room.

#Adrinette #Adrienette #Marichat #Lady Noir #Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #Adrien Agreste #Lila Rossi #Lila Gets Exposed #Happy Ending #Fake Dating #Emotional Blackmail #Harassment #Bullying #Protective Adrien #Mikau's Writings #Betting Against the House

[winters-blue-children]

After Josh's attack, he gets an unexpected late-night visit from Buck. However little he may have in common with his good friend's little brother, what he knows is that he doesn't want to be alone.

“What are you doing here?” Josh blinks dumbly at the man before him. Behind his front door was Evan Buckley, his colleague turned close friend’s little brother. At half-past ten on a Sunday night no less.

“Ooof.” Buck pulls his handsome features into a grimace as his eyes wash over the cuts and bruises, still swollen and painful, but not as bad as the night before.

“It looks worse than it is,” Josh says shortly. He sighs before taking a step back and beckoning a hand behind him. “Come on in.”

Buck nods in thanks. He closes the door gently behind him as he takes a look around the other man’s apartment.

“I suppose Maddie told you, huh? I should have known.”

“She just didn’t want you to be alone.” Buck follows him into the kitchen and sets a bottle of red down on the island, a peace offering. A brief, awkward look crosses his face for a split second before he masks it with a shy grin. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Hell no, Josh doesn’t want to talk about it. “Maybe after a glass or two,” he finally says.

“Attaboy,” Buck says with a grin that should be too attractive to be legal.

Josh looks away and pretends to busy himself looking for wine glasses—he pretends not to notice. Nothing to make him feel even more self-conscious than usual like having a really hot guy in his apartment.

“Us solos gotta stick together,” Buck says as he drops himself down heavily on Josh’s couch.

“Oh no no no,” Josh cuts him off right there, his tone somewhere between annoyed and exasperated. He hands the other man a glass of wine before taking a good drink from his own. He’s careful to leave a good two feet of space between them as he sits.

Buck tries to meet his eyes, but Josh stubbornly evades him.

Fuck, they barely know each other, Josh thinks. Where the hell could this night be going?

“What is it?” Buck presses as the other man refuses to meet his gaze.

“Don’t… just don’t compare me and you. It’s—” Josh groans and drops his head back onto the couch. “It’s embarrassing. As if I wasn’t humiliated enough,” he adds. Poor gay, single Josh, who thought for a second that some nice, sweet guy could have possibly been interested in him.

What an idiot he was.

Buck awkwardly turns his head away. He couldn’t honestly say that anything like that had ever happened to him before. But he hopes he can be a good friend about it. When Maddie told him what happened to Josh, he was shocked for a moment, and then furious. Not that he was even remotely close to the guy, but he still wanted to do something to help.

Which is why he came over tonight. Unannounced.

“What did you mean by that?” He eventually asks.

Josh stares at him.

“Don’t compare me and you,” Buck waves his hand between them. “We’re not so different, you and I.”

“Ha!” Josh can’t help but let out a laugh, which he immediately regrets because it pulls at the cuts on his face. He winces and touches his tender lip. “Come on,” he looks at Buck, eyebrows raised because it’s so obvious.

Buck stares at him like it’s not.

“Look at you!” Josh finally says. “You could get anyone you want! Man or woman, people are constantly jumping at the chance to get with you! Tell me I’m wrong!”

Buck pulls a face and looks away. He’s shaking his head when Josh cuts him off.

“Please! Firefighter. Hero. The brave and courageous fireman who literally fought his way back from hell after a life-changing injury in a serial bomber attack. You’re amazing,” Josh says with a grin before his expression turns somber. “And then there’s me. Sad, pathetic loser who can’t even get an online date that’s not a scam.”

“You’re not a loser,” Buck says quietly.

They nurse their drinks as a quiet moment passes between them.

“I’m just… humiliated,” Josh finally says.

“I’m sorry,” Buck says quietly. He doesn’t really know what else to say.

Josh is starting to think spending the night alone would have been a better option when Buck speaks up again.

“I bet I could tell some war stories that would make you laugh.”

Josh snorts, already chuckling at what Evan Buckley might consider a dating war story.

“Come on,” Buck throws him a bright grin, “What d’ya say?”

“Alright,” Josh nods. “Give me your best shot.”

Buck’s grin grows wider and he shifts, turning his body to face him on the couch. “Alright, picture this,” he raises his hands like he’s painting a picture. “First date, with a beautiful woman. She’s older.” Buck fucking winks at him. “And mature. And I mean, I am just head over heels for this woman. I swear, I’d never met anyone like her before. Never met anyone who made me feel that way before, you know? Like those butterflies in your gut that tell you it’s something really special.”

Josh doesn’t know, but he’s not going to mention it. He swallows and beckons the other man to continue.

“So we’re at dinner. Really nice restaurant. And I’m doing my best to keep my cool and not say anything embarrassing. We’re eating Italian by the way. Everything’s going great… and then I start choking.”

Josh raises his eyebrows.

“I don’t mean I’m not able to perform,” Buck clarifies with a stern look. “I mean, I am literally choking on my food.”

“Oh my god,” Josh bursts out laughing.

“The waiter tries the heimlich—nothing. She’s pounding me on the back and I can’t fucking breathe. I pass out.”

“No way.”

“There’s no time to wait for the paramedics! No, no, no… in 911 operator fashion, she calls for help and…”  

It takes him a second. “Emergency tracheotomy?”

Buck nods and ducks his head, hands raised in finger guns. “Got it in one.”

“You’re serious?” Josh laughs. “That is insane.”

“It was mortifying. But also kind of hot to have a chick save your life like that.”

“Okay, you were right,” Josh admits, bowing his head in defeat. “That was a pretty bad date.”

Buck sighs and looks a bit forlorn. “Hot date with a beautiful woman ruined by complimentary bread.”

Josh snorts and takes a drink from his glass.

The two of them lapse into a comfortable silence. Buck finishes his wine and carefully looks over before speaking, “I really am sorry for what happened to you. I can’t even imagine what that feels like…”

“I don’t need you feeling sorry for me.”

“I don’t feel sorry for you,” Buck clarifies. “I think you’re feeling sorry for yourself. And speaking from personal experience, after the last six months I’ve had… feeling sorry for yourself doesn’t get you very far.”

Josh shakes his head. “Having hope is the worst part. I actually thought, for a minute, I actually thought this cute, funny, charismatic guy was attracted to me. I feel like such a moron.”

“You’re not a moron, you were the victim of a sociopath. I’m serious,” Buck says when the other man rolls his eyes. “There’s so many crazies out there, you’re lucky all they wanted was your wallet.”

But there’s something in the way that Buck says it, a twinge of something dark and bitter that causes Josh to frown and do a double-take. “What do you mean by that?”

Buck suddenly seems to realize he said too much. “N-nothing,” he stutters, looking away. “Forget I said anything.”

“Buck. Tell me.”

Buck looks genuinely uncomfortable for the first time that evening. “Alright,” he finally says. He bites his bottom lip and asks, “do you want to hear the story of my actual worst date?”

“What could be worse than your date cutting into your windpipe?”

Buck shifts uneasily and starts, “it was a year or two after school. I was… kind of lost at the time. Doing a bunch of random jobs, I didn’t really know what I wanted to do with my life. I was sleeping around… a lot. And, one night… I met this guy at a bar.”

Josh can’t help the flutter in his chest. Maddie mentioned more than once to him that her brother likes both, but the vibes he got were hard to read the few times they met. He didn’t want to get his hopes up.

But when Buck continues, his words are the last thing he wants to hear.

“Anyway, we really hit it off. We talked for hours, and then I brought him home for a night cap.” Buck pauses and frowns. “The weird thing is that I always considered myself having a pretty high tolerance for alcohol. In school, I was the one who never puked. Last one standing at the end of the night, you know?”

When Josh realizes Buck is looking at him waiting for an answer, he stutters, “kind of.”

“There was no way a half dozen drinks over three hours at the bar plus a light beer, leaves my head spinning and me not able to see straight.”

Josh’s heart drops into his stomach. “Buck, did he…”

“He tried. It was real fucked up. But I managed to sock him in the face and then I stumbled-ran into the bathroom.”

“Did you call 911?”

“See now, that would have been smart,” Buck nods. “Instead, I threw myself out of a second-story window and broke my arm in two places.”

“Shit, Buck.” Josh doesn’t know what else to say. “That was…”

“Attempted rape? Yeah,” Buck says dryly. “So they tell me. I guess he didn’t think I was a sure thing. Shocking, I know.” He adds, after seeing the look on Josh’s face.

“That’s awful.”

“I was fine. Nothing actually happened.”

“That doesn’t make it okay, Buck.”

Josh must have made a face because Buck looks away. He hopes it wasn’t pitying.

“It was a long time ago. I’m over it.”

But the thing is, Josh has heard enough over the end of a phone line to know that this isn’t something a person just gets over. He knows there can be scars, deep and invisible. And if not properly cared for, they can fester.

“Is that why you don’t date guys?” He asks softly.

“Nah,” Buck finally says after a while. He gives him a small half-smile. “Just haven’t met the right guy.”

Josh feels his cheeks warm and he suddenly fixes his gaze on a spot on his lap as if it were the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. “What I would give for someone to think of me as the right guy.”

“You’ll find someone,” Buck says lightly.

Josh doesn’t feel very confident about that. Not when the dating pool is already limited due to his sexuality. Add in the muggers and would-be rapists and it’s suddenly a pool he has no interest in jumping in.

“What’s wrong?” Buck asks.

“It just… feels bad complaining about a few scrapes and bruises when you just told me… you know.”

Buck winces and looks away. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, it’s fine! I’m glad you told me. I’m glad you feel like you can confide in me. I mean,” Josh swallows and takes a shaky breath. “We barely know each other.”

Buck’s eyes drop. The normally bright crystal baby blues suddenly look grey in the dim light of his living room. Josh kind of has the feeling Buck’s not quite in the room anymore.

“I never told anyone what really happened.”

“Not even the police?”

Buck slowly shakes his head. “The guy was long gone by the time the paramedics got to me. I told them I drank too much and fell out the window trying a dumb stunt. I never mentioned the guy and… I guess they just ignored whatever they found in my system.”

Buck pauses and looks up. “I never even told Maddie. Please don’t…” His voice trails off, looking more vulnerable than Josh had ever seen him.

“Of course not,” Josh says quickly. “Thank you, for telling me.”

Buck nods slowly. “Therapy isn't really my thing, but… it kind of feels good to get that off my chest. You’re a really good guy, Josh. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

It was kind of touching, except the context was trauma and gay-bashing and how is anyone supposed to trust anyone in this day and age? He wants to be mad. To scream that good people don’t deserve bad things happening to them. But instead, he just feels tired.

“I just want someone to notice me,” Josh says softly. “I mean really notice me.”

Buck smiles bitterly. “Don’t we all.”

“So there is a guy.”

Buck groans and looks away. But there’s a smile tugging at his lips. A welcome sight after the melancholy of their evening.

Josh smiles. “You don’t have to lie to me, you know.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know pining when I see it.”

“You don’t know—”

“Eddie Diaz?”

Buck sputters helplessly and it says more than an entire novel. “How did you know?” He finally asks.

“Oh, I’ve heard things,” Josh teases lightly.

Buck pulls a face. “From Maddie, right?”

“Not just from Maddie,” Josh clarifies. “But yes, she is convinced that you two are meant for each other and that you’ll grow old together after raising that sweet boy of his.”

Buck chuckles and looks genuinely embarrassed. The way he gets whenever someone mistakens him and Eddie as a couple, or calls Christopher his son.

“It’s… it’s the look on your face when you talk about him,” Josh explains. “It’s like he is your entire world, and nothing else matters to you but his happiness.”

“Do I really look like that?” Buck sounds honest-to-god surprised.

Josh nods, eyebrows raised high. He saw the look on poker night when Buck couldn’t stop gushing over Christopher. He saw it the day Maddie invited him to happy hour with the 118 crew and Buck was glued to Eddie’s side the entire night. Never has he seen a man so in love, than the way Buck looks at Eddie.

The one upside to the painful jealous gnawing in his gut—knowing that he might never find a man to look at him the same way, is that it doesn’t get his hopes up about Buck. The last thing he needs is to be the guy pining over his friend’s hot brother. Her really, really hot brother.

“Yeah,” Josh finally says with a small grin.

“Shit.”

“You’re in love with him,” Josh says simply. “It’s so obvious, a blind man could see it.”

“Everyone except him apparently,” Buck says forlornly. He sighs heavily and finally admits it out loud. “I’m in love with him.”

He looks to Josh, a mix of desperation and pleading in his eyes. “What do I do?”

“Babe, I wish I had the answers for you,” Josh grins softly. “But I don’t. And I think you might be on your own for this one. My advice? Let him know how you really feel. His answer might surprise you. And let’s be real… people like us could really use a win right now.”

Buck tilts his head, a small grin on his lips. “You know… I didn’t think I’d be baring my soul tonight.”

Josh gives him a light shove with his elbow. “And I didn’t think I’d have the pleasure of the company of such a cute guy in my apartment.”

Buck laughs. “I guess I’m alright. Not exactly a catch.”

Josh manages a derisive snort. “You are totally a catch.”

“I’m a recovering sex addict in love with his straight best friend.” Buck chuckles and tries to laugh it off but Josh reaches over and grabs his hand in a firm grip. He’s stern and confident and feeling uncharacteristically sure of himself.

“Evan Buckley, you are a wonderful man. You are strong, and courageous, and loving, and you have so much to give.”

Buck blinks and takes a slow shuddering breath. “Thank you,” he says softly. “You know, I came over tonight to make you feel better.”

“You did,” Josh says honestly. “And I definitely appreciate the company.”

And then Buck does something completely unexpected. He leans over and presses a gentle kiss to his lips. It’s soft and sweet and only lasts a brief moment. But it causes those butterflies in his stomach that Buck was talking about earlier.

“Um… what was that?” Josh asks hoarsely after they part.

“I just felt like doing it,” Buck whispers.

Josh grins and presses a hand against the other man’s chest. He pushes him away gently. His cheeks burn and he really hopes it’s not noticeable.  

“Alright, slugger. Maybe it’s time to sleep it off.”

Buck laughs. “Don’t worry, I’m acting of my own volition.”

Josh leans back and grins. He doesn’t need to figure out Buck’s misguided drama. He knows where he stands, and he certainly would like to think that Maddie had given him enough warning about her unpredictable brother to fend off any foolish advances.  

Though not necessarily unwanted.

“This was really great, Buck… but I don’t want you to regret anything.”

Buck nods solemnly and leans back, closing his eyes. “I don’t have the best impulse control,” he admits.

“You’re better than you think,” Josh murmurs.

Buck hums under his breath. “Maybe I should go.”

Josh laughs lightly. “No judgment, Buck.” He leans back as well and watches the ceiling. “It’s good that you’ve found someone, you know.”

“I guess,” Buck says softly. “Doesn’t feel great sometimes.”

Josh doesn’t say anything. He blinks slowly and closes his eyes. No one has the answers, and no one has the magical words that will fix the injustices of the world.

But for now, they sit in silence, enjoying each other’s company. And for a moment, everything is okay.  

#911 #911 Fox #Evan Buckley #Josh Russo #Buddie #my fics #this is my first fic in a year #holy hell I can't believe it

[nicole-lynne]

If You Scare Me, You Have to Kiss Me

This was a request from @armyaghasekpop4ever​ for a fluffy Peter Parker story. I’m sorry this is so late, but I finally got a little bit of motivation so here’s this. Hope you enjoy and forgive me for it taking forever! I also didn’t proof read this soooooo apologies. 

Give a like/reblog/comment if you enjoy this!

The noisy video game blasted from the tv speakers while you and best friend, Peter, bickered about who was going to win the racing game you were playing. Peter kept reaching across the couch to mess with your controller and tickling you so you were squirming around while you kept trying to push him away from you but he just laughed and continued, using his super strength. 

"Can you two please calm down." May asked, walking into the living room. Both of you stopped to stare at her, baffled at the slinky red dress she was wearing. It wasn't very often she dressed up but when she did, she could knock the socks off of anyone.  

"Wow, May, you look hot! You have a date?" You pretended to fan yourself and she waved you off before encouraging you to continue jokingly. 

"As a matter of a fact, I do. It's a man I met who works at the shelter, John. You said you’re staying tonight since your parents are out of town, right? Are you two going to be fine for dinner?" 

You nodded reassuringly, attempting to hide the fact that you were psyched to be alone with Peter for the night. He’d been your best friend since you’d moved into the building a few years ago and the two of you spent almost every day together. There was also a tiny part of you that was crushing on him - hard. It would be impossible not to. He was crazy smart, hilarious, kind, attractive, and a literal superhero, not that many people knew that.

There was only the very obvious reason why you hadn’t told him yet. You were completely terrified to lose him if things went bad. Peter and May were always there for you with your parents traveling so much for work and you weren’t sure what you’d do if you didn’t have them to turn to.

"We'll survive. Although you may not have a nephew to come home to if he keeps cheating." 

"Hey! I am not cheating, it's not my fault you suck at this game." 

"I don't suck, you keep messing me up." You shouted as you threw a pillow at his head which he dodged and narrowly missed before he settled back into his space next to you, the heat coming off his skin making a shiver run down your spine. 

"It's alright, hun, we all know that I'm fine as long as I've got my favorite girl." May patted your shoulder and you both started giggling at the shocked look on Peter’s face. "I put some money on the counter for take out later. Please try not to kill each other while I'm gone." 

"I'll behave if he behaves. Have fun, May!" You called out after her as she ran out and closed the door. "Now, where was I? Oh yeah, kicking your ass." 

Next to you, Peter still hadn't picked up his controller, instead, he was staring at the closed door in deep thought. You started snapping your fingers loudly, trying to get his attention, and his focus shifted to you. 

“You okay, Pete?” 

“Ye-yeah, I just was wondering if you wanted to watch a movie?” 

“What about the game?” 

“Eh, I’ve beat you enough for today, gotta give you a chance to rest up.” He teased with a little sparkle in his eyes. Rolling your eyes, you shoved his arm futilely and he chuckled at how weak you were. “Why don’t you go order the food while I pick a movie.” 

“Fine, but don’t pick anything stupid. I don’t think I can handle watching Animal House or Die Hard for the thousandth time.” You said over your shoulder, ignoring his inevitable eyeroll. 

“Those movies are classics, I tell you, classics!” For as much as he protested your disinterest in his favorite movies, Peter had a different movie in mind and clicked through netflix until he found the one. 

He’d been trying, and chickening out, for months to tell you how he felt about you. So instead, he’d been settling for finding any possible way to have you right next to him. Luckily, you were completely terrified of scary movies and he knew, without a doubt, that your soft body would be pressed against him in minutes if he could convince you to watch it. 

He queued it up just in time as you walked back in, chattering away to the girl from the Thai place next door. 

“Kanya said it’ll be up in ten minutes. What’d you pick?” 

“It’s called Lights Out.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Peter Benjamin Parker, that sounds like a scary movie. You know I don’t do scary movies.” 

“Oh come on, I’ve been dying to see it since it came out. And I spend all my time with you so I haven’t had the chance. It won’t be that bad,” flashing you the puppy eyes, he folding his hands together, “please?” 

With one look from his big brown eyes, you knew that you wouldn’t be able to say no to him. You looked around the room, anywhere but him, and he knew that he had you. You almost never looked at him when you were about to give in. 

“Ugh, alright! You owe me two chick flicks and dinner from that Italian place I love.” 

“No way, I hate that place.” Peter grumbled. 

“Do you want me to watch this movie or not? Because I’m perfectly happy to watch something happier.” 

He stood still for a few minutes, pretending to think about the options. “Okay, deal. Next weekend, you and me, rom coms, and Magiano’s.” Throwing out his hand, you two shook on the deal at the same time there was a knock on the door. 

While you set up the food, Peter shut the curtains, turned off the lights, and draped the blanket over you both. Clicking play, he gave you a small nudge and your heart fluttered at how happy he looked. 

~~~

Two hours later, you were smushed right against Peter, hiding your face behind his shoulder, peeking up once in a while to watch the girl on the tv be attacked by the demon shadow thing. Everytime you jumped your nails would dig in his arm and Peter would laugh and rub your thigh lightly to comfort you. Secretly, he’d barely even been watching the movie, only watching you, and loving every minute of it.

The moment you opened one eye to see what was going to happen next, there was a loud crash outside on the fire escape, the sound making you jump out of your skin and start screaming bloody murder. Popcorn flew through the air and covered their laps. Peter instantly pulled you into his arms protectively, on high alert for danger, before he realized the stray neighborhood cat had knocked over a plant. 

“Hey, it’s alright, it was just Alley Cat.” The tension melted out of Peter’s muscles, but he kept his arms around you. 

“Are you sure?” Your voice muffled against his neck, your warm breath making his eyes flutter shut for just a moment.

“Yes, I’m positive, you’re safe. Plus, you know I wouldn’t let anything hurt you.” He said quietly. 

Slowly, you lifted your head up to look up at him, your cheeks burning with embarrassment and your heart thumping erratically in your chest. Carefully, he lifted his hand and brushed your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear, studying your reaction closely. 

The smell of his laundry detergent mixed with the spearmint of his toothpaste and was fogging your brain. You’d been this close to him before but something felt different and your chest was tight with nerves. Glancing down between your two bodies, you saw that Peter had pulled you onto his lap in the chaos of it all. 

“Oops, I’m sorry-” You quickly shifted to get off him, but his arm was still wrapped around your waist and he held you tight so you couldn’t move. 

“Don’t be sorry...I like it.” He had never said anything like that before and you searched his face, certain he was joking around with you. His face stayed serious and you knew if you turned the lights on, there would be a hint of pink growing on his cheeks.

“You do?” You managed to squeak in response. 

Peter let out a breathy chuckle, “how could I not?” 

“Well, because I’m crushing you and this is kind of a close encounter and you think I’m your personal space.” 

“Okay, one, you’re not crushing me, you dingbat. You weigh absolutely nothing to me. And two, I like having you in my personal space.” Then he sharply inhaled and his eyes went wide. “Did that sound weird? God, that was a stupid thing to say-” 

 “Pete,” you held a finger to his lips, stopping his string of babble. “It wasn’t weird. I, um, I like being this close to you.” 

Vaguely you could feel his fingers rubbing circles on your back and they had only stopped for a fraction of a second when you said that. You held your breath as the words sunk in to him, your finger falling from his lips gradually. The situation was already intimate enough, might as well add a little more to it. 

“You do?” He asked, echoing your earlier question. 

“I guess your spidey sense hasn’t been working much lately?” You rolled your eyes, a small smirk playing on your lips. 

“Wh-what’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Have you not noticed how much you make my heart race or how I get goosebumps every time your skin just barely brushes against mine? How I spend literally all of my time with you instead of anyone else.” Taking a deep breath, you spoke again. “I like you, Peter. A lot.” 

His jaw dropped open and you giggled. Lifting a finger underneath his jaw, you closed his mouth but his face still looked mystified. 

“You’ll catch flies that way, dork-”

Peter cut you off by connecting his lips to yours in a hurried kiss. Before you could register what had happened, he was pulling away and you were chasing his lips, your eyes still closed with satisfaction. Finally, you hazily blinked your eyes open to see Peter grinning. 

Heat surfaced on your cheeks and you let your head drop onto his shoulder, hiding your face from his view. His hand cupped the back of your head and he was pressing little kisses to the parts of your face he could reach. 

“I’ve been dreaming of doing that for so long.” He whispered under his breath. “I like you too, have for a while.” 

You lifted your head just enough that you could smile up at him, placing a gentle kiss on his lips before slipping your arms around his waist. “I was so worried you would reject me...” 

“I’d have to be an idiot to reject someone as gorgeous and amazing as you. You make me so happy. When you moved in a few years ago, I thought I was having a heart attack. Just one look at you made my heart stop, babe.” 

Your stomach flipped at the casual use of the nickname. A nickname you’d always wanted to hear from him but never thought you would. You almost had the urge to pinch yourself just to make sure that this was truly happening and not some sick joke from your subconscious. 

“I can’t believe I waited so long to tell you when I could have been kissing you this whole time.” Peter tightened his hold on you, keeping you firm against his chest.

You snorted.  “I can’t believe I had to watch that scary movie just for you to finally kiss me.” 

Peter’s chest rumbled below you with a chuckle. “Well we never actually finished the movie, ya know, so I guess I don’t have to go to Magiano’s after all.” 

“No, no, no,” You shot up quickly and thumped him on the arm. “You’re not getting out of Magiano’s, Peter Parker. If anything, you owe me even more because I’m now allowing you to kiss me.” 

Smiling sweetly, he brushed his lips against yours again before relenting, “babe, I’ll go anywhere you want.”

#Peter Parker #Fluff peter #spider man #spiderman #tom holland #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fanfiction #nicole-lynnerequests #peter parker story

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 104

104

The Blades had no patience, and Keith’s had run fresh out. He was yet to read his mother’s letter, but she’d given him space and hadn’t tried butting in on his life, so for that he was grateful. He was finally allowed back at work, “on light duties”, meaning he was playing desk jockey and doing more of the planning towards missions. He’d liked to say he enjoyed himself, but paperwork sucked and Lance was too busy with Lotor to do much. Though. He had done one crucial thing. Coming to meet Keith after “training” with Lotor, and his generals, his boyfriend had kind of been too full of energy to sit still. Keith did not enjoy the way Lance talked about the thing he talked with Lotor, despite the fact his boyfriend was being open and honest with him. Four sessions with Lotor and Keith wanted to skin the vampire alive for spending so much time his Lance. Lance hadn’t done anything wrong. He wasn’t off having some illicit affair with Lotor. Their training was filmed, Keith could even watch if he wished, but the whole thing filled him some ugly growth that sat in a lump in his chest thanks to it. Lance had decided after the third two-hour session that Lotor had given him enough tips to practice at home, the fourth session being the last over the ten day period. Lance declaring it happily as he threw the briefing room door open bounding in. Hyperactive and handsy, his boyfriend threw himself on him, Keith smiling like a moron as Lance nuzzled into him, pressing kisses to his cheek. The news couldn’t have come sooner as his boyfriend kissed his cheek then dashed off to check in with Allura and let her know the good news... leaving Keith to realise he had no idea where he’d been in the stack of purchase orders before him.

Being a desk jockey came with perks, that he was fully taking advantage of. Without being awake at obscene hours, he was able to talk with their friends more, instead of Lance and Pidge alone, due to her insomniac ways. Plus, he’d been going back to Lance’s for the night when his boyfriend had to make the drive back the following morning. Lance was welcome to crash at the apartment, yet his lover wanted to work through the things he’d done with Lotor in their training sessions in the yard where it didn’t matter if the grass was pulled up or things broken. Lotor thought Lance was wasting his potential, but Lance stuck to being as human as possible, meaning Lotor had to fall in line with him.

That’s how he ended up on a double date after that fourth training session. A double date was something he’d never actually ever believed he’d have to suffer through. A double date he could have probably handled, maybe, had the other couple not been Allura and Lotor. Seeing he was busy with paperwork, Lance had gone to catch up with Allura, then the next thing he knew, for some unfathomable reason, that had turned from hanging out into “Hey, let Shiro know you’ll be out tonight because we’re going out with Allura and Lotor”. His boyfriend wasn’t on the ”Team Lotor” bandwagon, he was on the “If Lotor touches Allura or looks at her the wrong way, I’m going to castrate him” team.

And god if it wasn’t the most awkward five hours of his life for the month. Relying on Lance to help him piss after the accident didn’t come close to how awkward an evening with Lotor was. Opera. Keith did not do opera. He wasn’t completely sure he understood why the main character suddenly regained her strength to then go and drop dead. Lance and Allura clutched each other as they cried over her tragic demise... and for some reason the opera kept going! What was this fresh hell?!. Lotor seemed vaguely bored, and Keith had spent most of the time making silent bets with himself over how long he could his breath. He couldn’t use his phone, the screen would be glaringly obvious in the blackness of the theatre. Fuck it. He needed the bathroom and doubted he’d be missed. Allura was holding hands with Lotor, not like how Keith was holding Lance’s hand in his lap, thumb rubbing the back, enjoying the touch and that alone, but like holding hands all the same.

Turning towards to Lance, he nudged him with his knee, Lance raised his head to smile at him. His boyfriend was so damn pretty. Okay. Maybe they were a little loved up. Lifting their hands, Lance kissed the back of his. Keith enjoying that much more than what was happening on the stage. Bumping Keith with his knee, Lance gestured with his chin

“I need to use the bathroom, babe”

“Oh, sure. Me too, actually”

Thank god. English conversation with no singing. He was amazed by the skills and that production it’s self, but the issue came from the fact he didn’t speak Italian, and the story writer had no clue how to write.

Finding himself following Lance to the theatre bathroom, Keith was clueless. Lance walking over and waving his hand under the tap sensor. There was something familiar about the two of them hiding in bathrooms

“Why am I here?”

Here, as in, “Why the hell were they being tortured slowly?!”

“So Allura and Lotor could have a moment”

How did they need to be there to... never mind. They were being good friends

“You could have saved me sooner. Do you actually have to pee? Or are we just staying here until Allura and Lotor have had their moment”

It was kind of hard to have a moment at the opera. Keith’s arse was numb and his leg stiff. A headache was building in his temple... ugh. Nope. Opera was not for him.

“I was trying to make Allura feel less self conscious about us being there. She was so nervous about tonight. I couldn’t say no to her”

Lance did that... Took care of everyone. Fine. He’d forgive him this time

“Do you think she’s okay?”

“She can handle herself... but at the moment, I’m more concerned about you. I’m sorry I decided for us both. I know you don’t like him”

“It’s fine. You’re being a good friend”

“It’s not really. This isn’t really us. I much prefer you, us, in our pyjamas, mocking horror films”

Lance said that, but he deserved more

“Babe, I don’t know how to do fancy... If I... If you want to do fancy... I mean, I can try”

Lance must have reassured him so many damn times over him not being rich and smart.

“I know, but... I also love the real you. Pidge hates the opera too. Colleen tells her she’s a disgrace to her Italian heritage. But Hunk’s pretty cool about coming with me. You... don’t mind, do you? I mean, I haven’t been in a long time....”

Now Lance was rambling. Rambling and playing with the tap sensor like he could trick it

“It’s fine. Are you okay? You were crying pretty hard when she snuffed it��

His boyfriend snorted, shaking off his wet hands and before wiping his face to rid himself of the tear tracks. Smiling at him in the mirror

“Yeah. You know me and tragic love stories”

“I don’t think I got it. I mean. She died and they kept singing”

“It’s alright. Nah, I’m okay. Just wanted to give Allura and Lotor a moment, and kind of wanted a moment to check in with you... this bathroom’s pretty nice”

It was a bathroom. All grey marble and matt gold. What did it matter as long as it did it’s purpose

“I suppose so?”

Lance snorted. His boyfriend letting his old man show

“I can take the hunter out of the practical, but I can’t take the practical out of the hunter”

“If you say so. How long are we supposed to wait for this moment to be over?”

“I don’t know. Like 5 minutes. Allura was super nervous. Lotor burned her in the past and she definitely hasn’t forgiven him”

“Couldn’t she just work him for the information?”

“She could, but she’s got to protect herself too. She’s fae, and there isn’t that many of them left these days”

“I feel like she could take Lotor”

“Yeah. But then there’s Honerva and Lotor’s generals to think about. I don’t like Narti. Acxa seems okay. I saw her talking to Krolia”

“Maybe she’s planning on jumping ship”

“I’d jump ship too. I swear I’ve never had to tell someone “No” as many times as I’ve told Lotor no over using ego”

“I can’t believe that I can’t believe he brought us to the opera”

“I can. At least I won’t have to see him for a bit after this”

Crossing his arms, Keith kicked the marble floor with the tip of his shoe

“He can fuck off”

Laughing softly, Lance came over to him, wrapping his arms around him. His boyfriend smelt like soap and spilt alcohol. Lotor had gotten them champagne delivered to the private box they were being tortured in, he’d offered Lance blood to add to his, yet his boyfriend wisely declined

“I know you’re not happy about it. But, I think I have a plan to turn back next time I’m a bat... I can’t say for sure though”

“You didn’t tell me you figured that out”

“I said “I think”, Babe. Anyway, you know I know you haven’t had a fun time lately... so I was thinking after this, we grab some pizza and go watch the stars”

“Why are you always trying to bribe me with pizza?”

“Because I’m a pizza kind of man, and your kind of man”

“I fail to see the logic... but that sounds so much better than heading back with them. I want to burn his stupid limo”

Lance kissed his hair

“You only get to burn it if I get to douse it first”

Keith shoved Lance off playfully, he couldn’t keep the laughter out his tone

“I’m shocked! What happened to my sweet law abiding boyfriend?”

Lance was so cute when he scrunched his face up with laugher

“He fell head over heels for a bad boy...”

“Are you saying I’m the bad influence?”

Wiping small tears from his eyes, Lance hugged himself tightly with his right arm as he nodded

“Oh, totally. Matt says I’m completely unbearable when you’re not around. All I do is mope and long for you”

“Matt met you after you met me”

“I know. He smacked me with a pillow last night and sent me to bed too, reminding me I’d be here today... like I could forget”

Keith reached out, grabbing Lance by the arse to pull him close, his boyfriend automatically looping his arms over his shoulders, laughter turned unexpectedly serious as Lance rubbed his forehead against Keith’s. He loved this man so damn much... the hunter hated that sometimes he couldn’t help but need him to tell him that

“You really miss me that much?”

“Babe, I miss all of you like all of the time. Literally the best thing about getting up early to come to Platt is seeing you”

“So you don’t come to Platt just for the opera?”

“Nope. You really don’t like the opera, do you?”

Keith shook his head. Sitting in the dark, with the only light coming from the lights on the steps and stage, he could easily picture vampires feeding in secret. Maybe they should have had a vampire kill the lead, it would have been exciting then

“Not at all... But I kind of feel it’s very vampirey”

Lance replied, overly heavy on the sarcasm

“Yeah, babe. Completely vampirey. Like, didn’t you, the opera is in our blood. Why do you think the theatre is dressed in red velvets? To hide the blood, obviously! We’re drawn to it, seeking out our next hit. I don’t really go back to Garrison... oof!”

Stepping on Lance’s foot, his boyfriend shut up. Lance didn’t to rub it in that he was way smarter than him

“I get it. I’m uncultured”

Lance nuzzled into him, sensing his teasing had dropped his mood further

“Other than stomping on innocent feet, you’re cultured enough. Seriously though. Allura never said opera. She said dinner. And I was like, we can do dinner... And now I’m like “Please God, let Coran call with some emergency””

“Hey, you’re the one who’s suddenly friends with Lotor”

“No I’m definitely not. Nope. He taught me some stuff, mostly about vampire culture and it’s whack. He keeps going on about ego and quintessence and I can do more things if I tried. I got a stitch last night thinking about having to train today. I seriously threw up last time”

He didn’t know about that. Lance shouldn’t be pushing himself that far. How had his boyfriend had time to come from practice to him, with a stop to throw his guts up and brush his teeth on the way?

“My poor baby... Did you miss your big bad boyfriend?”

Lance whined at him softly, nuzzling into him as he did

“Yes, give me sympathy. Seriously. I’m thinking of stealing his phone and finding a way to lure Sendak back to pick his brat arse up”

“Tell me about it. They’re off raiding a place tonight. I had to do the stupid paperwork. I don’t know why. Kolivan comes and takes it, then that’s that”

“I’m sorry you’re still benched”

“Nah. I’ve got something to do with my time...”

“Do you think if we’re good tonight, Lotor will finally help?”

“I think you’re more delusional than me... someone’s coming. We should head back”

“Nooooo...”

He was happy hiding here!

“Now who’s the baby. I’ll buy you an ice cream if the confection stand is still open”

“Lactose”

“Fuck. Fine. If the opera isn’t over, then I’ll call Coran and beg him for a pick up”

“We need an excuse to leave”

“Then I guess I’ve finally found a reason for you deciding you needed to be banged up”

“I think I can support that. Those seats aren’t comfortable”

They didn’t need an excuse. The opera had ended, people milling into the theatre’s entrance hall. Leading Allura along, Lotor made his was through the crowd and over to the pair of them

“We thought you’d left”

His tone was cold, like they’d disappointed him by not

“I’ve got a headache and Keith’s stiff from those chairs”

Allura immediately took the reason as her chance to let go of Lotor’s hand. Moving to Lance, she placed her hand on his forehead

“You do feel warmer than usual. Perhaps we should head back for the night?”

Lance played along

“I don’t want to ruin your evening”

“Nonsense. You’ve been pushing yourself again. I’m sorry, Lotor. We really should head back. Lance may be going into heat again”

Lotor scoffed

“I doubt it. Yet, in any case, we shall return if that is what you wish”

Wanker. Keith tugged Lance up against him. He was supposed to be their excuse to leave, being a weak and lowly human. Not Lance. Lance was good about it. Their prayers silently answered

“I think it’s for the best. I really am sorry to interrupt your night”

“Nonsense. Your health is more important than dinner. You’re both very important to me”

So was escaping Lotor apparently. Unpleased, and outvoted, Lotor swallowed down his snark, though made it very clear he was unhappy as he swept ahead of them. Allura not disappointed at all as she winked at them. Hopefully this wouldn’t bite them in the arse.

#once bitten twice stupid #oncebittentwicestupid #ashratherose

[flowerfan2]

Group Texts Are Ridiculous (Or, Five-0 Starts a Group Text)

McDanno, T, A03

Summary:  After Steve leaves Oahu to go find himself, Five-0 starts a group text to keep in touch while Steve’s away.  Picks up after the end of Season 10.

Notes:  This story is set in the present, following 10x22, but there’s no COVID in it.  I wanted it to be fun.  The story is complete and will be posted over the next few weeks.  Many thanks as always to my awesome beta, @perryavenue. And apologies in advance for any formatting errors on tumblr, I spent forever fixing it up for A03 and it probably won’t translate easily at this point!

Chapter 1

April 2, 2020

Group message:  Tani Rey, Junior Reigns, Lou Grover

TR:  You guys going over to Steve’s to say goodbye tomorrow?

 JR:  Yeah.  Still think we should have a party.

 LG:  The man’s had two parties and a lunch already – how many send offs does he need?

 JR:  I don’t know, he didn’t seem to like them very much.  Maybe he needs a better one.  With just us.

 TR:  He’ll be fine.  Plus, there’s not really any time left.

 JR:  What about tonight?  He’s not coming in today, right?

 TR:  He’s got plans, Junes.

 JR:  He does?  I thought he said he had work to do around the house?  We could bring pizza and beer, help him out.

 LG:  He’s got plans with Danny.

 JR:  Danny won’t mind the help – he’d be happier supervising, anyway.

 TR:  Lou, what are we going to do with him?

 LG:  No idea.  Nothing’s worked so far.

 JR:  Are you guys talking about me?  That’s not very cool.  At least fill me in.

 TR:  Sweet Junes, if you haven’t figured it out by now, I’m not sure we can help.

 LG:  But bring that beer over to my place tonight, and I’ll do my best.

 TR:  I’ll bring chips.

  April 3, 2020

 JR:  Okay now I feel really bummed out.  Why did Steve leave Danny down on the beach like that?  We should have had a party.

 TR:  Chill, Junes, he’ll be ok.  He’s just sad.

 JR:  Do you mean Danny or Steve?

 LG:  Yes.

 JR:  But Steve is the one who decided to leave, he shouldn’t be sad – I don’t get it.

 LG:  It’s not a straightforward situation.

 TR:  Good one, Lou.

 JR:  I feel like I’m still missing something.

 TR:  Wouldn’t be the first time.

 JR:  Hey, should we add Adam to the text?  Because he’s standing over there petting Eddie and it feels kind of awkward that we’re all texting.

 TR:  Sure, Adam is definitely sort of not really barely on Five 0 these days… why not add Jerry while you’re at it?

 JR:  Okay.

 LG:  I think Tani was joking.  But we should add Danny and Steve, it’ll give us an easy way to keep in touch while Steve’s away.

 TR:  You think it’ll work?

 LG:  Look at that sad boy down there on the beach.  It couldn’t hurt.

 TR:  Sounds good.

 JR: …so should I add Adam or not?

  April 5, 2020

 JR has changed the name of the group text to Keeping in Touch with Commander McGarrett

 JR:  How’s your trip so far, Commander?

 SM:  No need to be so formal, Junior.  And good, thanks.  Ran into an old friend.

 TR:  Wow, so we’re going to start with that, are we?  You know Danny’s in the chat, right?

 DW:  How do you think Chin knew Steve’s flight info?

 TR:  Wait, so the old friend was Chin?

 SM:  Yeah, Catherine was surprised, too.  She thought I was going to Tahoe with her.  Not sure where she got that idea.

 DW:  Careful what you say, there are kids present.

 SM:  I didn’t say anything bad.

 DW:  You were thinking it.

 LG:  Not to change the subject or anything, but how are Abby and Sara doing?

 SM:  They’re great.  Sara’s adorable.  Smart as a whip, too.  

 DW:  You gonna stay in San Fran a while?

 SM:  Yeah, a week or two.  See the sights.  I hear they have some great Italian restaurants.

 DW:  Now you’re just being mean.

 SM:  Nothing could rival your lasagna, Danny.

 DW:  Aw, you’re forgiven.

 SM:  Anyway, thanks for giving Chin the heads up that I was coming, Danny.

 DW:  No problem.  Had to make sure you weren’t going to immediately start free climbing rock faces or something.  Need to at least let the jet lag settle.

 LG:  Say hi to the Kelly clan for me, will you?

 SM:  Of course.  Gotta go, Abby and Sara want to take me to Alcatraz.

 DW:  By boat, right?

 SM:  Danno, people swim away from Alcatraz, not to it.

 DW:  Leave it to you to start a new trend.

  <b>April 24, 2020</b>

 <i>JR has changed the name of the group text to</i> <b>Keeping in Touch with Steve</b>

 SM:  Hey, just want to let you guys know that I’m going to be out of contact for a while.

 DW:  As opposed to the past few days, when you answered approximately 5% of my texts?

 LG:  You headed out into the woods?

 SM:  Desert, but yeah.  Gonna do some camping.

 DW:  Maybe you’ll see a bear.  Beat some sense into you.

 JR:  Are there bears in the desert?

 TR:  No, but there are snakes.  And spiders. Be careful, those things can be vicious.

 DW:  Yeah, careful is his middle name.

 JR:  What’s Danny so mad about?

 TR:  Not the time, Junes.

 DW:  I’m not mad, I just know how he is.  He’s probably hoping to see some snakes.  Maybe shoot a rattler, cook one over his campfire.

 SM:  I have no intention of shooting anything, I’m just going camping.

 DW:  Since when is going anywhere without shooting something fun for you?

 SM:  I’m not exactly here to have fun.

 TR:  Um, Steve, you okay?

 SM:  Signing off.  Talk to you guys later.  Give Eddie a hug for me, I miss that big guy.

  April 25, 2020

 TR:  Junes, you awake?

 JR:  Yes, are you?

 JR:  That was a joke, I know you’re awake, you texted me first.

 JR:  This is just a text between us, right?

 TR:  Yeah, it’s just us.  Lou and I are done with the stake-out, we handed it off to HPD.  Lou’s driving me home.

 JR:  Did you talk to him about Danny and Steve?  Danny seemed pissed in the group text.  What’s going on?  

 TR:  I tried, but if Lou knows what’s going on, he’s being unusually tight lipped.

 JR:  I wish Danny was back at work.  It’s weird with both him and McGarrett not there.

 TR:  He’s got at least another two weeks until his ribs heal enough to get cleared to return to active duty, at least that’s what he told me yesterday.

 JR:  Can’t he come back to headquarters, though?  I would have thought he’d want to come back, especially with him being in charge now.

 TR:  Temporarily in charge.

 JR:  Yeah, whatever.  Didn’t really sound like that when the governor stopped by, did it?

 TR:  I don’t know, Junior, I really don’t.  But Danny doesn’t really seem eager to get back to work.  Maybe he’s had it with us.

 JR:  With Five-0?  You think he’s gonna do the restaurant thing again?

 TR:  No, that was a disaster.

 JR:  Well, I hope Danny comes back to Five-0.  Otherwise Adam might think he’s got a permanent spot.

 TR:  You really don’t like Adam much, do you?

 JR:  I don’t know, he seems to have an explanation for everything.  But I don’t trust him.  Not like Steve and Danny.

 TR:  I miss them too.  But Danny’s around anytime you want to talk to him.  He whispered in my ear for two hours yesterday when I was questioning that record store owner who tried his hand at money laundering.

 JR:  But Steve’s been pretty out of touch.

 TR:  I think that was the idea of his trip.  It’s definitely going to be a long summer.

 JR:  You think Steve won’t be back until fall?

 TR:  That’s my bet.  September, refreshed and ready to go.  But I really don’t have a clue.  What do you think?

 JR:  Sooner than September, that’s ages, Tani.  Why does he need to be away so long?

 TR:  You’d have to ask him.

 JR:  Tani?

 TR:  Yeah?

 JR:  One more thing… I think we forgot to put Quinn in the text group.

 TR:  Shit.

 May 4, 2020

 LG:  Grace has got skills, Danny.  She’s beating Steve at his own game!

 TR:  Um, what are you talking about, Lou?

 LG:  Steve and Grace went surfing in L.A.  Big waves, too.  Didn’t you see the pics on Facebook?

 DW:  You’re showing your age, Lou.  Facebook is for old people.

 LG:  Grace posted on it, she’s not old.

 DW:  She only puts pics on there when she wants her parents and grandparents to see them.  They’re carefully curated.

 TR:  Why am I not Facebook friends with Grace?  I feel left out.

 JR:  Ditto.

 DW:  You should both feel free to friend her.  I’m sure she’d friend you back.

 TR:  I’ll look for her insta instead.  Probably get better stuff.

 LG:  Do you even know Grace?

 TR:  Rude.

 JR:  Ditto again.

 DW:  That’s the same thing.

 JR:  No, I’m actually saying ditto for the second time.

 LG:  This group text is more ridiculous than Grace’s sanitized Facebook page.  

 TR:  At least if Steve’s surfing we know he made it out of the desert.

 LG:  On a horse with no name.

 DW:  Now you really sound old.

 TR:  Dad joke alert.

 LG:  What’s wrong with dad jokes?  I am a dad, after all.  I’m quite proud of being a dad.  I deserve to make dad jokes.

 TR:  Try making better ones, at least.

 LG:  Danny, you’re a proud dad.  Back me up here.

 DW:  Proud, yes.  As uncool as you, no.  

 TR:  Settle down, you’re both old and uncool, no need to get worked up about it.

 DW:  Fine.  This old guy is staring at some very nice looking steaks, and was planning on lighting the grill soon.  Assuming you’re still willing to eat my food despite my advanced age.

 JR:  Tani and I are getting in the car now, we’ll stop for beer on the way. Jerry said he was coming, too, and bringing fruit salad with no pineapple, just for you.

 DW:  Yet another reason I like Jerry.  And did you guys talk to Quinn and apologize for not including her in the group text?

 TR:  I did, and she actually seemed relieved not to have to deal with us all outside of work.

 DW:  Seriously?

 TR:  No, of course not.  I already added her.  She’s on now.

 QL:  Hi guys.  Danny, thanks for inviting me.  I’m bringing margaritas and guac.

 DW:  See, already glad you’re in the chat.  Sorry Tani forgot you.

 TR:  I did not forget Quinn!  

 LG:  Tani has been suitably repentant, Danny, don’t worry.  And do put my name on two of those steaks - Renee made her special chocolate cake with mocha buttercream.  We’ll be there soon.

 DW:  Does your wife think I’m dying or something?  She only makes that cake when someone’s sick.

 TR has changed the name of the group text to Chocolate Cake For the Detective’s Soul

 TR:  Maybe she thinks it’ll make your ribs heal faster, so you can come back to work and make sure Lou doesn’t do anything stupid.

 DW:  Tani, not for nothing, but it’s not Lou I’m worried about.

 TR:  That building wasn’t that tall.  I landed in the pool, and apprehended the suspect on the way down.

 DW:  I rest my case.

#H50 #McDanno #Hawaii Five-O #H50 fic #Danny Williams #Steve McGarrett #textfic

[silvia7272]

6 ~ The Second Akuma

So, I think I’m going to have to upload this one before the salt SongFic because it has one spoiler that will make sense if I upload this before the SongFic.

The episodes Timetagger, Chat Blanc, Felix, Loveater and Miracle Queen will not happen. If you haven’t guessed. I might add more but I’m not sure, I’d have to go through each episode. Also, I don’t really care what happens in season 4 I’m going by my ideas.

Word Count: 4361

Tags: @queenmj10, @fangirl39, @animegirlweeb, @northernbluetongue, @daminett4life, @raisuke06, @indecisive-mess-named-me, @luleck @themamaravenclaw, if you wish to be tagged all you have to do is say. Sorry, it's different but this was the reason I started posting in the first place.

***

The limo was a first for our sliver-eyed hero. She was used to being on foot or using her ‘special’ transportation, and a limo was too big to construct. Instead, she looked out the window, she could see so many different sites she hadn’t seen before, she so had to take her newfound friends there, until she remembered that they had probably already visited.

“Rosina, do you have any idea why Father invited you? Not to be rude but Father never invites any of my friends, he’s normally too busy for this, but now it seems different.” She looked back at him and he did genuinely feel confused, but then she saw something else.

Fear…

She wondered why he would think that, but then she remembered what Chloé had said.

“He’s Adrien’s Dad and a famous fashion designer. He never lets him out of the house except for school, photoshoots and fencing lessons. He doesn’t even allow his friends to come over and visit”

“I’m as much in the dark as you are, but don’t worry Adrian, no matter what happens, we’ll get through it together, so there's no need to worry” He looked almost hopeful, just how bad was Gabriel she mused?

Until the limo stopped.

“We’re here”

The door opened courtesy of the Gorilla with Nathalie by his side. She looked around, amazed by its structure and area.

“Wow, this is like, two houses stuck together” Nathalie and the Gorilla gave questioning looks while Adrien was gently guiding her towards the door.

“Sensational, it looks even bigger on the inside. I’ve never been in a house so big”

“I appreciate the compliment Miss Scoats” They turned to see the famous fashion designer before them.

“And I’m pleased you came on such short notice” He held out his hand, shocking Adrien the most, he’d never willingly made contact with anyone, not even him.

“It wasn’t a problem Sir. I just hope I haven’t done anything that would damage my image. I am confused about why you decided to invite me, however”

“Let us discuss matters privately” He started walking towards the room he spent most of his days in, Nathalie followed despite the privately being said, and Adrien was about to be whisked away by his bodyguard. That was until he felt a tug on his arm.

“I’m sorry but I would feel a lot more comfortable with Adrian with me, Sir.” You couldn’t tell if Gabriel was annoyed or considering it but nodded after a moment.

Adrien, however, was glad he was included, plus he didn’t really want to be spending all his time in his room when one of his friends was downstairs, the last time his friend had a meeting with his Father… It didn’t go so well.

“It’ll be alright” He squeezed her hand comfortingly before they made their way inside.

“By your indication, you don’t have any idea why you’re here?” They both nodded as Adrien spotted Nathalie on her tablet, it looked like she was pulling something up on the screen in front of them.

“There was something that had caught my eye when it showed that my Son was included in this video, does this jog your memory?”

“Our fencing match? I remember Alya posted it on her blog” Adrien reasoned with himself while Rosina was still confused.

“What's a blog?”

“Ahem, I have to say I’m quite intrigued by your impressive set of skills. And I’m willing to make an offer.” They both looked surprised, well more Adrien than Rosina.

“If you will become Adrien’s bodyguard where our other cannot, to protect him in school hours, your payment will be substantial. With the rising activities of Akuma’s I wish he would be protected more than I’m able to give him.”

Adrien.Exe has stopped working.

Was this?

Was this his Father’s way of providing him with another friend?

So, the gods did love him, he knew his Father cared about him, he knew it.

Now he wouldn’t be alone as much, he could spend time with one of his friends.

“I’m sorry Sir but I can’t” Her head lowering into a sort of bow.

And then he stopped again.

Why? Why couldn’t she stay with him?

All he wanted was to hang out with someone.

“Why not?” Gabriel’s voice was callous. And Adrien really hoped Rosina would be emotionally strong enough to withstand an Akuma.

“I-I mean I don’t need to be paid, I already have enough money as it is, and I still need some time for my friends and Aunt, plus I wouldn’t want to agree to something without Adrian’s approval. I’m very sorry Sir, I hope you haven’t wasted too much time with me” She didn’t want another decision to be forced on Adrian, he had all his choices made for him already, he didn’t want him to resent her, plus she kinda wanted to leave and be with Marinette, Chloé and Kagami. It was hard enough getting here in the first place she didn’t want to make them wait anymore.

“Wait, Rosina, I don’t mind, I really wouldn’t mind having a friend near me. I think it would be good for me someone as strong as you. And I’m sure Father won’t mind you having as much free time as you want. Right, Father?” He turned and prayed to whatever god was out there now. He felt happy when Rosina wanted his opinion, it felt nice someone wanted him to be heard rather than someone speaking on his behalf. But he hoped his Father wouldn’t mind.

“Really, I was really worried, that and I don’t work so well cramped inside all the time, would there be a way to have some lessons outside? At the park perhaps?” She wondered out loud, it was like all of Adrien’s prayers were being answered right now, Father would have to let him go outside for Rosina’s proposition. Wait, could she read his mind? He’d have to get his foil hat from his emergency box.

“I believe there are some aspects I can negotiate on, but is this a deal?” His hand was still stretched out.

“Of course, although there was something else, I’d like to mention” Gabriel was getting a bit restless here, how many times would she add to her previous comments?

“What would that be?” Everyone sans Rosina could tell Gabriel was getting mad, there weren’t a lot of hints, but they were there.

“I was wondering if I could help Adrian with his languages?” He rose an eyebrow, even if he wouldn’t have believed she had super fencing skills he couldn’t place her with being multilingual as well. There had to be a test.

“Is that so?” Adrien paused, if he had to guess that sounded German, and then the panic-struck in, he was testing her! Oh no, there was no way he could be this lucky in a day, maybe it was his destiny to be alone.

“Of course, Sir,” They all seemed surprised.

“That wouldn’t be all you know would it?” He switched again, Italian?

“If not, I would be Trilingual but as I said I’m Multilingual” Her smile never wavered.

“Impressive, a number of all the languages you know will be helpful” He ordered, but Rosina didn’t seem to mind.

“Of course, Sir: Morse Code, Binary, French, Italian, German, English, Mandarin, Russian, Japanese, Arabic, Latin, Spanish and Thai.” They looked at her in disbelief while she rubbed the back of her head.

“I travelled a lot when I was younger, and Aunty still makes sure I remember all of the languages on top of… Other things.” She seemed to trail off, Gabriel and Nathalie noticed but either didn’t care or didn’t comment.

“Then I suppose I can allow this to happen, now Adrien, if you would like to show our guest around, I have some important matters to attend to.” He couldn’t keep the smile off his face.

“Of course, Father, c’mon Rosina I’ll show you the dining room first” He offered his hand out as they walked off.

***

“And that’s how Rosina became my tutor/bodyguard” All of Adrien’s friends were on his computer screen, looking ecstatic.

“That’s great dude, at least now you’ll have some company.” He nodded.

“Wow Rosina, thanks so much for doing this for Adrien, that’s so nice of you” Rose praised as our red-haired heroine rubbed her head again.

“I didn’t really do anything, Mr Agreste was the one who gave me the offer, I don’t even get why though.”

“But don’t you see? This is perfect, with you having to spend more time with Adrien that means we’ll all have to spend more time with you. And that means we’ll all soon become closer friends” Lila presented the idea as they all praised her like they had become accustomed to.

“Plus, whenever me and Adrien have our photoshoots, I’m sure I can tell all of you the location of where we’re stationed. That way we’ll have more time to hang out outside of school. Wouldn’t that be amazing?”

“Lila I can’t believe how smart you are, why didn’t any of us think of that before?”

‘Because you’re too dumb’ She wished she could’ve retorted but held her tongue.

“I don’t know, I don’t think my Father would be too happy about that.” He grimaced; he would hate to see his Father angry.

“Oh, don’t worry Adrien your Father loves me, I’m sure he’ll let it slide. And besides, after the many times you’ve had to cancel on get-togethers don’t you think it's fair?” There it was again, the disappointing stares of his classmates. Why did it hurt he wondered?

“Fine, I’m sure he won’t mind, I hope.” He muttered but no one heard that part. Except for the girl next to him.

“And don’t worry girl, we haven’t forgotten about you, how about we all go out to the arcade next week?” This worried the girl. A, she didn’t know how her other friends would react, B, her Aunt had made it clear they needed to find the Trinklets and C, what the hell was an arcade?

“I’m sorry guys but I err already promised to hang out with Mari and Chlo, we’re bound to have a sleepover at one point I just know it.” God, she looked adorable, they really wished they didn’t have to ruin their image of her ‘friend’.

“I hate to tell you but there is an 83.98% that Marinette will cancel on you?”

“Why?” She tilted her head.

“Because she’s always flaky, she’s never where she says she is, I’ve checked too. It's one of the reasons why we aren’t friends. Plus, both of them are just as bad as each other, Chloé would bully all of us constantly, but because her Dad is the Mayor of Paris, she was able to get away with it. She’s never been punished. Just ask Sabrina” It was then she noticed the ginger held a worried expression.

“It's true, I was always there for her beck and call and I could never have any time to make any other friends, she pushed them all away, but please Rosina, don’t fall into the same trap I did, everyone forgave me before it was too late, and I know they’ll forgive you too. Don’t fall for Chloé and Marinette’s lies”

Rosina paused, she felt a new emotion in her, but couldn’t place it, she was normally always excited and happy, why did she feel the same feeling of when Chloé and Marinette were arguing in that supply cupboard on that trip? Why did they have to be so mean to one of her first friends? What was the reason?

“I hate to put this short, but I think me, and Rosina should start studying now.”

“Ok, we know how your Father can be, we’ll expect your answer at school ok girl, please come to your senses” They all hung up.

“Why are they so mean to Mari?” She whispered this to herself. But Adrien was able to hear it.

“Hey, don’t worry about it, it will all work out in the end. We’ll all become friends just like the old times… Just as soon as Marinette apologises.”

“Apologises? What for?” Adrien winced knowing he’d have to tell her the truth.

“Lila is lying to everyone for attention. Marinette and I are the only ones who know about it and while she wants to call her out, I think we should let her have it her way. She’s not hurting anyone, so I don’t understand why she won’t take the high road?” Now Rosina was just confused. Unless you had to lie for certain situations, her Aunt always told her lying was bad, why did he have to overlook it?

“And I know it’s a huge favour to ask you, but do you think you could overlook it as well? I would hate it if you became despised because of this. Please?” He put his hands together in a praying position as she stared at him.

But before she could answer, Adrien got a notification, and he knew what that type meant.

“Oh no,” He took his phone out to see what type of Akuma he would be facing off today.

“What is it?” Rosina looked puzzled and Adrien was quick to understand why.

“Oh right, this is your first Akuma attack right?” She nodded and Adrien sighed, how was he going to get away now?

“You should stay in the bathroom, it’ll be safer” Before he could retort she was already pushing him into his bathroom. And with her out of site Plagg flew out.

“Well now looks like you’ve got yourself another friend huh? How many girls are in your corner now?” Plagg snickered out as Adrien rolled his eyes.

“There's no time for that, now Plagg! Claws Out!”

“I should be getting paid for thiiiiiiiiisssssssssss” But as he was transforming, he could’ve sworn he heard his bedroom window open.

But he paid it no mind, it must’ve been something else.

***

“Well, Bugaboo what seems to be the situation?” He seemed to slip right in the battle while Ladybug swung her Yo-Yo around to avoid a blast.

“I told you before, stop calling me Bugaboo!”

“You know you love it M’Lady” He winked as he blocked an attack on his end whilst Ladybug rolled her eyes.

“So, what seems to be the situation? Another love Akuma perhaps?”

“In your dream’s Kitty, their actually called SleepSis. Make sure you don’t get hit or you’ll end up as a sleeping statue. The more statues the stronger she gets” They were back to back as they awaited her next attack. She seemed to attack from the shadows, but her next attack would be unknown to the two superheroes.

“Ladybug! Watch out!” It was a familiar voice, more so to one than the other but familiar all the less.

It had looked as if the voice had stunned the pair as she mysteriously hit one of the blasts away.

“Are you ok Ladybug? I really hope I wasn’t late to the battle” She worried as Ladybug approached her.

“Its fine, Chat Noir only just got here as well” Chat blinked, hadn’t he seen her before?

“Hey, haven’t we met?” He scratched his head as all three had to defend themselves from the Akuma.

“Yep, I’m Crisono Tassa, I’m new and here to help. I wish we’d met under better circumstances. Oh, and by the way, I love your ears, are they real? Can I touch them pretty please?” Now, why did that sound so similar?

“Crisono you need to focus; this is your second Akuma battle and they’re all different.”

“Ok Ladybug.”

“Wait wait wait. You seriously can’t let her stay Ladybug? She’s just a civilian, she can get hurt. I’m sorry Crisono but you have to leave” He wasn’t usually the stern one, but Ladybug wasn’t being reasonable.

He saw how they both glanced at each other before continuing on, did they just ignore him?

“Don’t worry Chat, I thought that too, but she is a capable fighter, I’ve seen it myself” He didn’t want to believe it at first but if his Lady did then so would he.

“Okay, then I hope we get along Crissi” He was able to place a kiss on her hand as Ladybug had to yet again block an attack.

“Chat! Focus!”

“Ok ok, so what's the plan then M’Lady?” To make up his mistake, he then blocked an attack that was meant for Ladybug.

“I think her mask is the Akumatized object, I need you to distract her while I sneak up and take it”

“Sure thing, but I will need my cat nap soon” Ladybug groaned at his joke, while he heard Crisono giggle.

“At least someone appreciates my humour, well shall we go Crisono?” He offered his hand out, she inquisitively looked at it before smiling.

She pulled him along instead, Ladybug couldn’t help the little bit of laughter she let out. She called out her Lucky Charm only to be given two planks of wood. She looked around but couldn’t find anything with her Ladybug vision. Did she have to wait? But for how long? What did she have to do?

Meanwhile with the adventures of Crisono Tassa and Chat Noir.

“This isn’t how it works but ok” She laughed as she threw Chat across the street.

“Hey, I’m not just some ragdoll you can throw. No matter how far you throw me I’ll always come back”

“Really? But what if I threw you out of Paris? I say I can beat SleepSis before you can run back here” The attacks were getting more and more havoc as the two newly acquainted heroes teased the other.

“How dare you two treat me like a joke, I’ll show you the real power of SleepSis”

“Then show us your power, I wish to see what else Hawkmoth can do” A pink mask appeared on her face but before Crisono could register that, she became the more prominent target.

“Hey, I’m here too! You want a piece of me!?” Chat would be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a little bit worried about the newbie. He was still ever so slightly mad that Ladybug knew about her and didn’t tell him about it, but maybe there was a reason for that. He tried to apologise but couldn’t find her anywhere. And besides, his Lady would tell him eventually, they were partners.

Right?

“C’mon, just a little further.” His ears picked up to Ladybug, ahh the sight could put his mind at ease. The love of his life, he would do anything for her. To admire her beauty was something he could do forever.

“Chat lookout!” His Lady’s voice was captivating as well. He would’ve continued his thought process until he was unpleasantly shoved aside.

He expected to be able to joke about not paying attention since she had stolen it, but he didn’t. because his Lady wasn’t the one in front of him.

It was Crisono.

And she had been hit.

***

“Crisono!” Ladybug had to stop her plan as a fear of dread kicked in. She heard Chat shout out her friend's name and panicked when she saw Crisono on the ground.

“Oh no,” But then something happened, her vision was showing her a plan.

The wood.

Her Yo-Yo.

Chat Noir’s Baton.

Rosina and her Sabre.

“Chat I’ve got a plan. Grab Rosina and come back” She blocked some more attacks as she was in SleepSis’ vision.

Chat did what he was ordered, and they made their way onto a building.

“I’m sorry M’Lady, she took the hit for me”

“Its fine Chat Noir, we’ll sort this out together I promise.” He smiled at that as he helped Ladybug with whatever her plan was.

For the time being, SleepSis was trying to track the fellow heroes down, but she couldn’t find them.

“Hurry, Ladybug’s time limit will be up. Find her immediately!” Hawkmoth ordered.

“Yeah yeah I know.” She heard a thud behind her and released an attack which made contact. She smirked in victory, but it vanished as she saw what she hit.

“Damn it, Ladybug using you as a shield was clever. But don’t think it will stop you from winning.” She looked up to see Ladybug and Chat Noir giving a smug look. That wouldn’t last.

She jumped to meet them but was stopped, by… The redhead?

“What?” She was being moved by Ladybug like a… Like a puppet?

“It won’t be that easy SleepSis” She was controlling Crisono almost perfectly, SleepSis was on the edge.

“Chat now!” What? Wasn’t Chat with- No he’s gone! Where is-

“Gotcha -Grabs The Mask- Cataclysm!” He destroyed it making the woman become De-Akumatized.

“Time to De-Evilize!” She did her usual routine as she cast the Miraculous cure over Paris. The ones asleep awoke and continued on their day as it had become the norm.

“Crisono are you ok?” She awoke to the worried voices in front of her, they were surprised when they were trapped into a hug.

“The plan worked, oh how wonderful” They smiled. She must’ve been aware of what was happening.

“Sorry about that Crisono, I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again next time. I’m paw-sively sure of it” One groaned as the other giggled softly. The duo stuck their hands out, signalling for her to join.

“Like this? I’ve never done a fist bump before?” Chat would’ve been shocked until she uttered a Faa Lalalala. He gasped as he held her hand.

“You’ve watched Big Hero 6 too?” She had to shake her head.

“Sorry, I overheard some children do that to each other, is that not how normal fist bumps work?” He was slightly deflated but maybe he could get her to watch it, he wanted to hang out with other heroes now and again damn it.

“Ladybug what do you think, can it be an extension to our routine? As our newest friend, it would be nice to change some things. It would be a cat-astrophe to say otherwise” She rolled her eyes before nodding.

“Sure, but I’ve gotta go, Bugout” She swung her Yo-Yo away as Chat Noir blew a kiss in her direction before turning to Crisono.

“So how did you meet Ladybug? And how come you’ve decided to come to Paris? Are you going to help us with Hawkmoth?” She nodded to the last part.

“My Aunt said we’re going to stay here till Hawkmoth is defeated, plus it was our next location anyway. We travelled around the world, defeating crime. France just so happens to be next.” He would’ve asked more questions, but he remembered his Miraculous time limit and had to get going.

“Sorry if I stay then the cat will be out of the bag, Cya next time” He was about to take a leap.

“Wait?” He stopped to be polite, but she could see it couldn’t take long.

“Err, did you mean it when you said I was your friend?” She pushed her index fingers together, seemingly looking nervous.

“Of course, a friend of Ladybug’s is a friend of mine. I hope to see you next time” He had to quickly leave but he waved goodbye.

‘A new friend and a new hero. What else can happen?’

***

“Claws In” He made it back.

“So, what happened out there, you seem happy now?” When their chosen transforms, their Kwami is unable to see anything that happens outside, all they can do is concentrate on giving their special power when the time comes.

“I saw Crisono again, and we’re friends. She likes my puns as well, maybe we can hang out after battles?” He seemed as giddy as a kid on Christmas.

“Ohh so it looks like another type of cheese has entered the fray. Huh~”

“Plagg” He wined. Seriously why does every girl he meets have to become a love interest; it was getting annoying?

“And besides, she’s just a-”

He opened his door.

“Ahhh, ouch, boy did that hurt.”

“Friend?” He only questioned himself as he saw a figure come tumbling through his window. Not that he was one to judge, he would sometimes trip and fall onto his floor. He was glad that at times like that no one could see Chat’s accidents.

No, he was questioning the fact why Crisono was in his room in the first place!? Did she follow him and now she knows who he is? Did that mean he’d have to give up his Miraculous? No, anything but that, he’d rather have Lila’s clinging onto his arm than give up his freedom.

“Ah, Adrian it is all safe now, Ladybug and Chat Noir have defeated the Akuma. You have no more reason to fear, should we get back to our lessons?” Ok, now he was confused.

“R-Rosina?

“Yes? Is something wrong Adrian? Do you need to lie down?” It clicked.

“You’re Crisono Tassa!?” He exclaimed, no wonder he liked her, they were already friends.

“Oh no I forgot to switch out of my costume again. Oh, Adrian please don’t tell anyone, my Aunt will kill me about this mistake, I know exactly what she would say too.”

“H-Hey don’t worry about it, I promise I won’t tell another soul” He held out his pinkie, but she was puzzled.

“Why are you showing me your pinkie? Is it hurt; do you require medical assistance?” He laughed nervously, and people thought he was sheltered?

“It’s a way to signify a big promise, if we cross our little fingers together, it means we’ll remember/keep it forever.” At least, that’s what his Mum used to say before…

“Ohhhhh I see now, ok.” She made her first-ever pinkie promise while they smiled. Oh, the happiness radiating off the two newfound friends. And since Plagg was hiding somewhere else in the room, he was able to see who it was. And knew that he would just have to see that old Lady soon.

.

.

She still owed him that cheese. He would never forget that.

***

Hazar. The 6’s chapter is complete, please don’t worry, the SongFic will be out afterwards, at least it should be. I needed to make it clear that Plagg now knows who Crisono was. You can decide how I’m going to use that in the next SongFic.

I hope you all enjoyed this and stay tuned for the next one, I know it may not be what you lot wanted but I had to get info out somehow. Plus, this is my main story. Cya later.

Also 100 Followers? Thanks so much guys I’m so happy.

#miraculous ladybug #ml salt #ml class salt #ml ladybug #ml chat noir #ladybug #chat noir #my OC #My OC Character #my OC tag #salt fic #alya salt #lila salt #ml lila #gabriel agreste makes an appearence #please comment #let me know your thoughts #series soon #have a good day #slight chat noir salt #ml plagg

[douchebagbrainwaves]

THE ANATOMY OF VC BE A STARTUP

If in the next couple years. Sometimes it literally is software, like Photoshop, will still want to have the right kind of friends. Where the work of PR firms.1 Competitors riding on lots of good blogger perception aren't really the winners and can disappear from the map quickly. One reason Google doesn't have a problem doing acquisitions, the others should have even less problem. Some of Viaweb even consisted of the absence of programs, since one of the reasons was that, to save money, he'd designed the Apple II to use a computer for email and for keeping accounts. They want to know what is a momentous one. How do you find them? Suppose it's 1998. The big media companies shouldn't worry that people will post their copyrighted material on YouTube. Once someone is good at it, but regardless it's certainly constraining.

Gone with the Wind plus Roots. This is extremely risky, and takes months even if you succeed.2 At most software companies, especially at first. Their answers were remarkably similar. I use constantly?3 Combined they yield Pick the startups that postpone raising VC money may do so well on the angel money they raise that they never bother to raise more. I wrote much of Viaweb's editor in this style, and we needed to buy time to fix it in an ugly way, or even introduce more bugs.4

Historically investors thought it was important for a founder to be an online store builder, but we may change our minds if it looks promising, turn into a company at a pre-money valuation is $1.5 But it will be the divisor of your capital cost, so if you can find and fix most bugs as soon as it does work. Even in the rare cases where a clever hack makes your fortune, you probably never will. You may not believe it, but regardless it's certainly constraining.6 But it's so tempting to sit in their offices and let PR firms bring the stories to them. Web-based software wins, it will mean a very different world for developers. I think we're just beginning to see its democratizing effects. But this is old news to Lisp programmers. If 98% of the time.7 It might help if they were a race apart.8

7 billion, and the living dead—companies that are plugging along but don't seem likely in the immediate future to get bought for 30 million, you won't be able to make something, or to regard it as a sign of maturity. To my surprise, they said no—that they'd just spent four months dealing with investors, and we are in fact seeing it.9 But what that means, if you have code for noticing errors built into your application. The number of possible connections between developers grows exponentially with the size of the group. We think of the overall cost of owning it. But once you prove yourself as a good investor in the startups you meet that way, the answer is obvious: from a job. Your housemate was hungry. So an idea for something people want as an engineering task, a never ending stream of feature after feature until enough people are happy and the application takes off. So you don't have to worry about any signals your existing investors are sending. They do not generally get to the truth to say the main value of your initial idea is just a guess, but my guess is that the winning model for most applications will be the rule with Web-based application.

It's practically a mantra at YC. You probably need about the amount you invest, this can vary a lot.10 If you lose a deal to None, all VCs lose.11 Plenty of famous founders have had some failures along the way. No technology in the immediate future will replace walking down University Ave and running into a friend who works for a big company or a VC fund can only do 2 deals per partner per year. For insiders work turns into a duty, laden with responsibilities and expectations.12 In addition to catching bugs, they were moving to a cheaper apartment.13 If your first version is so impressive that trolls don't make fun of it, and try to get included in his syndicates.14 VCs did this to them.15

Most people, most of the surprises. So the previously sharp line between angels and VCs. This makes everyone naturally pull in the same portfolio-optimizing way as investors.16 And there is a big motivator.17 These things don't get discovered that often. Then one day we had the idea of writing serious, intellectual stuff like the famous writers. You need investors. The mud flat morphs into a well. When a startup does return to working on the product after a funding round finally closes, it's as if they used the worse-is-better approach but stopped after the first stage and handed the thing over to marketers.

Unless there's some huge market crash, the next couple years are going to be seeing in the next couple years. And yet when I got back I didn't discard so much as a box of it. And when there's no installation, it will be made quickly out of inadequate materials. It's traditional to think of a successful startup that wasn't turned down by investors at some point. But that doesn't mean it's wrong to sell.18 Big companies are biased against new technologies, and to have the computations happening on the desktop software business will find this hard to credit, but at Viaweb bugs became almost a game.19 Plans are just another word for ideas on the shelf.

I wouldn't try it myself. This applies not just to intelligence but to ability in general, and partly because they tend to operate in secret. Now you can rent a much more powerful server, with SSL included, for less than the cost of starting a startup. For a lot of the worst ones were designed for other people, it's always a specific group of other people: people not as smart as the language designer. We're not hearing about Perl and Python because people are using them to write Windows apps. But if you look into the hearts of hackers, you'll see that they really love it.20 I am always looking.21 But you know perfectly well how bogus most of these are. The fact that super-angels know is that it seems promising enough to worry about installation going wrong. If another firm shares the deal, then in the event of failure it will seem to have made investors more cautious, it doesn't tell you what they're after, they will often reveal amazing details about what they find valuable as well what they're willing to pay for the servers that the software ran on the server. Why can't defenders score goals too? If coming up with ideas for startups?

Notes

But if they pay a lot of people who need the money.

A Bayesian Approach to Filtering Junk E-Mail.

Unless you're very docile compared to sheep. Whereas the activation energy for enterprise software—and in b the valuation should be especially skeptical about any plan that centers on things you waste your time working on your board, consisting of two founders and investors are also the perfect point to spread from.

Surely no one on the way up into the heads of would-be poets were mistaken to be younger initially we encouraged undergrads to apply, and cook on lowish heat for at least once for the correction. I know it didn't to undergraduates on the y, you'd see a clear upward trend.

The hardest kind of method acting. Turn on rice cooker, if you have good net growth till you see what the rule of law. But there are no discrimination laws about starting businesses. In fact, this seems empirically false.

In Russia they just kill you, they might have done and try to ensure none of your new microcomputer causes someone to tell them startups are ready to invest in the first 40 employees, or in one where life was tougher, the work of selection.

The best kind of kludge you need to, but except for money. VCs more than you could get a small proportion of the Italian word for success.

To a 3:59 mile as a motive, and their flakiness is indistinguishable from those of popular Web browsers, including the numbers we have to assume it's bad. I believe Lisp Machine Lisp was the fall of 2008 but no doubt partly because it is more important for societies to remember and pass on the fly is that you end up. According to Zagat's there are only partially driven by the government and construction companies.

One great advantage of startups have elements of both. Not least because they're determined to fight. The quality of investor behavior.

These horrible stickers are much like what you do if your goal is to carry a beeper? Acquisitions fall into in the angel is being unfair to him?

Which OS?

As I was genuinely worried that Airbnb, for example, you're not allowed to discriminate on the admissions committee knows the professors who wrote the editor in Lisp, you might be tempted to ignore what your GPA was.

Prose lets you be more alarmed if you want to trick a pointy-haired boss into letting him play. World War II the tax codes were so bad that they decided to skip raising an A round, you don't mind taking money from good angels over a series A from a mediocre VC. The dictator in the US. Google's revenues are about two billion a year for a couple hundred years or so you can make offers that super-angels will snap up stars that VCs may begin to conserve board seats for shorter periods.

It's not simply a function of the movie Dawn of the delays and disconnects between founders and one of the markets they serve, because that's how we gauge their progress, but except for that might produce the next one will be near-spams that have been the losing side in debates about software design. Japanese.

There were a first—9. Galbraith was clearly puzzled that corporate executives were, they'd have something more recent. Trevor Blackwell reminds you to remain in denial about your fundraising prospects. In the Daddy Model and reality is the converse: that the only cause of the fatal pinch where your idea of starting a company tuned to exploit it.

A few VCs have an email being spam.

The late 1960s were famous for social upheaval. Picking out the words we use for good and bad technological progress aren't sharply differentiated. Letter to Oldenburg, quoted in Westfall, Richard.

So you can fix by writing library functions.

If Congress passes the founder of the 800 highest paid executives at 300 big corporations found that three quarters of them. The angels had convertible debt, so we hacked together our own startup Viaweb, if they knew their friends were. But be careful. The original Internet forums were not web sites but Usenet newsgroups.

The only people who had been with us if the quality of production. If they agreed among themselves never to do good work and thereby earn the respect of their hands. That's why the series AA paperwork aims at a friend's house for the popular vote.

Galbraith p. And so this one is harder, the median VC loses money. European art.

Thanks to Ian Hogarth, Rajat Suri, Trevor Blackwell, Sam Altman, Jackie McDonough, Patrick Collison, Jessica Livingston, and Robert Morris for reading a previous draft.

#automatically generated text #Markov chains #Paul Graham #Python #Patrick Mooney #sup #friends #people #founder #funding #idea #li #Plans #executives

[the-awkward-outlaw]

While I love all the smut, I crave for drama to happen between Arthur and reader. I loved the jealous Arthur post you've written and the bits of drama in your fanfic but how will he handle if the reader is one who is jealous and it leads into a heated argument, where the reader almost breaks up with him? Or vice versa.

Okay, this was supposed to be short, but I just wrote ten pages for this. God, why couldn’t I have had this motivation in college! Anyways, hope you like it!

You’ve been at this stupid ball in Saint Denis for a little over an hour. The mayor of the city was throwing it for the Italian big suit that kidnapped Jack. You were suspicious about the whole thing immediately. Why in the hell would the man who kidnapped Jack and then returned him invite Dutch and the others to a ball? Definitely strange, but it was above you when it came to information. Dutch and Hosea explained to you and Tilly that they wanted you both to come in order to help them blend in a bit more with the crowd. Easier to pick up on contacts and potential future schemes. 

You’ve always hated balls. Having to dress up, look perfect in order to impress people you’ll never like anyways. You’d take an old, dirty pair of jeans and work shirt anyday over all these damn layers. There couldn’t be a worse torture than this. 

You’re waiting in the courtyard while Dutch and Arthur meet with this Bronte man. Hosea and Bill are mingling in the crowd, Tilly’s getting involved with a group of young men who seem to find her interesting. Dutch told you to go mingle as well, but that isn't your thing. You don’t “mingle”. 

You head over to the banquet tables where fruits, cakes and other delicacies are being offered. You hope Arthur will come down soon. You’ve been involved with him for quite some time now and things couldn’t be going better. He’s the perfect companion. You couldn’t design a better man. His only flaw is his insecurities in himself and it sometimes tends to make him a bit jealous. Not that you mind. You get jealous when passing women eye him hungrily. 

When you’re standing next to the table, you grab a glass of champagne and are about to ask the man behind the table for a piece of cake when you hear your name being called. You turn and see not Arthur, but a man you haven’t seen since you were fairly young. His name immediately springs into your mind. Benjamin Dowel. When you were fourteen, you lived in the same town as him and held a massive crush on him. He never knew this of course. Most of the teen girls in town had a thing for him, you were just another face in the crowd. But your relationship back then had been different. You were close friends through your teens until his father got a job in Saint Denis and his family moved down here. You wonder quietly how he wound his way into such an illustrious event as this. 

“Y/N!” he says again, stopping from you only a few feet away. You smile and then notice his suit. White jacket and shirt, white bow tie and black dress pants. Exactly like all the other waiters. 

“Benjamin!” you say, ignoring his position. “Oh my God, how many years has it been? You look great!” And he does look great. His ears aren’t nearly as large and his skin’s cleared up. It doesn’t help that he’s got a pleasant square shape to his shoulders, though that could be the jacket. He’s still handsome with his dark hair and eyes, plus his smile is still enough to make any woman swoon. It’s no surprise he’s even more attractive now than he was all those years ago. 

“Y/N!” he says, gesturing to you. “You look… wow, you look great!” 

You blush and clasp your hands. “Thanks. So… you’re a waiter here?” 

“Yeah.” He goes on to tell you that when he turned 18, his father demanded he get his own job, so he found a position working as a waiter at the saloon, but would work events like this. He’s been doing it for nearly ten years now as it is good work and pays well enough. 

For the next little while, you and Benjamin continue to talk and reconnect. You’re reminded why you had a crush on him for so long. He’s sweet, observant, funny and has an unwaverable sense of loyalty to his father. You’re constantly aware that Arthur’s around here somewhere and he’d be furious if he saw you flirting with this guy. However, he has no room to talk. You know that if Mary called on him again, he’d be off to see her faster than you could blink. 

You’ve always been jealous of Mary. She treated Arthur horribly and yet he let her keep a hold of him that you’ve never been able to understand. There’s no doubt in your mind that if things went the way Arthur wanted, he’d pick Mary over you. After all, you’d seen her. She’s beautiful, smart and not afraid to voice her opinions. It’s no secret that Arthur views you as just a second choice. He’d rather have you than be alone, but Mary is still his preferred option. That knowledge has always been a sore you’ve worked hard to hide. 

A reasonable amount of time has passed and Arthur hasn’t come to find you. He must be out trying to find the mayor. It’s given you and Benjamin a lot of time to chat. You ask him at one point if he needs to return to work, but he just shrugs and says you’re worth getting fired for. The two of you head off the edge of the courtyard near a nearly empty gazebo. He’s moved much closer to you than you’re almost comfortable with, but you don’t step away. 

“Y/N, can I tell you a secret?” he asks. You nod. “When we were kids, I, uh, I was really sweet on you.” He’s blushing worse than you’ve ever seen and rubbing the back of his head. 

You blush too. “Oh, Benjamin. Why didn’t you ever tell me?” 

“Because I knew there was no way you felt the same. And we were such good friends. I didn’t want to ruin that.” 

“Well, you should have,” you smile. “I was sweet on you too.” 

He smiles again, almost as though he couldn’t believe it. His hands come up and settle just above your elbows. He squeezes lightly and moves even closer. 

“You were always pretty,” he whispers, “but now you’re damn near radiant.” He leans down and places a soft kiss on your lips. It’s so sudden that you’ve no time to react, no chance to tell him about you and Arthur. Plus you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t always been curious what his lips feel like. 

You’re waiting for that spark though, now that he’s kissing you. Instead, you feel nothing. Not like when you first kissed Arthur. When that happened, there was definitely something there. But with Benjamin, there’s not even the sense of remorse or guilt. Just nothing. 

You pull away. “Benjamin, I… I can’t. You’re a great guy and my closest friend growing up, but-”

You’re cut off by the sound of breaking glass. The two of you turn and see Arthur stomping away, everyone else watching him, and a broken champagne glass only a few yards from you. Shit, there’s no question he witnessed what just happened. 

“I have to go,” you say, squirming out of Benjamin’s grasp. You chase after Arthur, calling his name, but he doesn’t respond. You see him in the darkness heading off the mayor’s property and towards the swampy pond, its banks dotted in manicured flowers.

“Arthur!” you call again as he stops near the water. He turns to you and his eyes are angry and betrayed. Your stomach drops, but you run up to him anyways. 

“Arthur, let me explain. I didn’t mean-” 

“You didn’t mean for me to see that shit, am I right?” he snarls. 

“No, that’s not what I was going to say. He kissed me, not the other way around.” 

“Who is that feller anyways?” 

You sigh and explain how you know Benjamin. Arthur’s eyes darken further. 

“So he’s your ‘what if’ guy, am I correct?” he demands. 

“I… I guess so. Arthur please, what he did was the last thing I wanted to happen. You know I’d never cheat on you.” 

“Do I?” 

You’re taken back by his response and a little offended. “Yes, Arthur you do. You know I’d never betray your trust and I know, or at least I hope, I have the same courtesy from you.” 

“And what the hell does that mean?” 

“You know exactly what it means, Arthur!” you say, your temper flaring. “Don’t lie to me and say that if that Mary didn’t say ‘Oh Arthur, I need you’ that you wouldn’t go galloping off to her. We both know that’s exactly what you’d do. I ain’t stupid, Arthur.” 

He glowers down at you, his jaw tight. “That ain’t fair, Y/N! You know that ain’t the way it is-” 

“Yes it is, Arthur! I know for a fact that I’m better than you being alone, but if things were different, you’d pick her. A thousand times over and over again! So don’t you dare tell me that it isn’t fair!” 

“You always been jealous of Mary,” he hisses. “You always suspected the worst of me whenever her name is even mentioned.” 

“And have you proven me wrong, Arthur? In Horseshoe Overlook, you went tromping off to her. It didn’t matter we’ve been together for over a year, you still went to her. And then what did you do? You lied to me, said you were just going off to tell her to stop pestering you. But I know for a fact you went in hopes she’d take you back!” 

“And how the hell would you know that?” 

“Because I followed you, Arthur! Forgive me for being suspicious, but I had to know for sure. I know your past with her and so I doubted you were going to tell her goodbye. And guess what? I was right! You went chasing after her brother hoping that she’d see how good of a man you are and want you back again.” 

“You seriously followed me? Well so much for us having a trusting relationship!” he roars.

“Yeah, I know it was a shit move on my part, but like I said, I’ve always known you’d choose her over me. I know if she ended up saying she actually wanted you back, you’d have come back to me and said things were over. I know I’m not a prize, Arthur!” 

You’re crying at this point and you’re hurt and upset. Not once has Arthur said you were wrong, that you were what he wanted. You can tell by the look in his eyes he’s not planning on contradicting you either. 

“It’s not fair,” you go on, more quietly this time, “for you to still be pining for Mary and for me to not have anyone else in case this doesn’t work. You have no idea how much it hurts to know you still love her and to know you’d just toss me aside so easily the moment she says your name.” 

You wipe your cheeks, waiting for him to say something. His face is still dark, his eyes glaring at you. “Yeah, but I don’t go around kissin’ people from my past. Especially in front of you. What you just did hurts too, Y/N.” 

His words are enough to confirm your fears. He loves Mary more than he’ll ever love you. Nothing you can do or say can change that. 

“You know what, Arthur?” you finally say. “We’re done. I’m not going to compete for your affections. Not with some silly woman like Mary who isn’t even around. It’s not fair to me for you to be jealous and for me to just be okay with you wanting Mary. I can’t do it anymore.” 

His eyes widen. “Y/N, no. Ya don’t need to do this.” 

“Yes I do, Arthur. I’m never going to have you the way I want, so I’m not going to try anymore. It’s over. I’ll move my things out of your room back at Shady Belle.” 

Before he has the chance to say anything further, you run off towards the street. You should be going back to Dutch and the others, it’d be the easiest way for you to get back to camp, but Arthur will surely be there too. You can’t bear to be around him anymore, so you wander the streets for a moment until you see the other guests’ horses lined up, waiting for their masters. The boy watching over them is napping, so you pick the horse farthest from him and canter off. You don’t care that the boy is calling and hollering for you to come back. You have to get away. 

When you’re back in camp, you head immediately up to your shared room. Or what was your shared room. There, you strip out of this stupid dress and tear off the jewelry. You leave them on the chair near the table. They were gifts from Arthur; you don’t want them anymore. You change quickly back into your everyday clothes and quickly pack up your belongings. 

You head outside and towards the two wagons where the other girls sleep. When you first joined the gang, there wasn’t really any room for you, so you slept under the wagons. It was actually kind of nice because it was covered from the elements and you didn’t have another person on either side of you. You stuff your belongings under the wagon again and roll out your bedroll. Mary-Beth asks what you’re doing, but you wave her off, not really in the mood to explain what just happened. 

When your things are set out the way you like, you’re not really tired enough to go to bed, plus you’re still hurt and angry. You also know Arthur’s likely to come find you and want to talk, but that’s the last thing you want. You head off to the boathouse behind the manor and sit on a rickety chair you’ve seen Strauss occupying multiple times. 

It’s late in the night when you hear the sounds of the coach rolling back in and Dutch’s loud voice carries over to you, though you can’t really make out what he’s saying. Your stomach tightens almost painfully as you worry about if anyone will tell Arthur where you’ve gone. An hour passes though and he doesn’t. Finally, you feel safe enough to go and try to get some sleep under your wagon. 

A few very awkward days pass and Arthur still has not tried to talk to you. Now that your anger is finally gone, you feel somewhat hurt that he hasn’t. Even though it was you who broke things off, you didn’t want to. You had to in order to protect yourself, but you still love him. He must be satisfied with things being the way they are. Hell, he’s probably daydreaming about Mary, or worse, he’s actively looking for her. A letter from her came to him the day after you broke up and Arthur’s been running off to the city a lot. 

The other girls try to get you to talk about what’s going on, but you still don’t really want to. Dutch has even approached you and tried to smooth things over, but you wonder if Arthur asked him to. You never saw it, but Hosea spoke to Arthur and gave him a few honest opinions, trying to help him straighten things out as far as how he felt about things. 

Part of you wonders if maybe it’s time to leave the gang. Arthur is such a vital part of it, he’s involved with pretty much everything. You won’t be able to do any jobs anymore without him being involved in some way or another. You come to the decision that you’ll just go off on a hunting trip for a few days. You’ve done it plenty of times before, so Dutch won’t think anything of it. And maybe, if you end up preferring the isolation, you’ll just end up not coming back. 

You pack up your bedroll but leave most of your other possessions behind. Most of them are gifts from Arthur anyways. A picture of some wolves he got from a photographer, another photograph of you and Arthur taken from a few weeks back. You feel a pang when you look at it. He looks so happy. You lay it back down and then crawl out from under the wagon, hop up onto your horse and leave. No one stops you, they all know at this point you and Arthur aren’t together anymore. You secretly despise their mixed looks of disappointment and pity. The likelihood that you’ll ever see any of them again is small. 

Once you’re away from Shady Belle, you gallop north towards New Hanover. You have not enjoyed Lemoyne much. Too hot and humid. You prefer the green and blue hues of the Heartlands. The change of scenery is a welcome relief. The vast open landscape feels incredible. You realize now that you’ve been cooped up in that swamp for too long. You’ve needed this. 

Game is plentiful and you do some hunting, catching a few deer and rabbits. You only take what you can carry on your horse in case you end up not going back. Right now, you don’t want to at all. It feels good to be out here on your own, enjoying the warmth and the light. No one’s around to bicker or perform mindless chatter. In fact, no one’s around at all. It’s all wonderful.

When night comes, you pitch your tent in case it rains. You stock your fire and cook some of the meat. Instead of Pearson’s usual stew, you treat yourself to a can of beans, an apple and some fresh cooked venison. Stars twinkle above you, reminding you of your newly acquired freedom. 

While it’s been nice to be out here on your own and take a few steps back from life with the gang, you find yourself missing company. Particularly Arthur’s. You spent many nights with him out in the wilderness and they ended up being some of the best times. It wasn’t just that you could be as loud as you wanted while fooling around with him, but all the walls between you came tumbling down. You could be yourselves. You find yourself crying again at the thought that it would never happen again. 

Somehow, you end up falling asleep. In the morning, you lie inside your tent, feeling slightly miserable. You don’t know what’s going to happen. You don’t really want to abandon the gang and Arthur, but you don’t know if you can manage to live with them and him like this. You don’t want to end up like John and Abigail, barking angrily at each other at every turn. At least you and Arthur didn’t have a kid together. 

The smell of roasting coffee beans wafts into your tent. Did you make some last night and forget about it? No, you couldn’t have. You never have coffee except early in the day since it keeps you up too long. The thought that some stranger might be in your camp going through your stuff sends a jolt down to your stomach and makes you get up quickly. When you get outside, you find not a stranger, but Arthur. 

He’s kneeling down next to the fire, cooking some fresh meat on your grill. From the percolator you can hear water bubbling a little and steam coming from the spout. That explains the coffee smell. Arthur looks up when you come out, his face blank. Your stomach clenches tighter. He’s probably come to finish the fight. 

“Arthur, I-” you begin, feeling defensive. 

“You ain’t gotta be worried, sweetheart,” he says, his eyes hidden beneath his hat. He pours some coffee into a tin cup and hands it to you. “Why don’t you come sit down?” 

You hesitate and then accept his cup, sitting down on the opposite side of the fire. Having no idea what to say, you take a sip of your coffee. An awkward silence passes between you for a few moments before Arthur finally says something. 

“Y/N, I um, I didn’t come here to beg you to take me back. I ain’t gonna put that kinda pressure on ya. But I did want to try and apologize, but you never gave me the chance at that ridiculous party.” 

“I’ve been in camp with you three days, Arthur. You could have come talk any time.” 

“I know, but I wanted to talk with you alone, but you were always with someone. It was like… I don’t know, felt like ya didn’t want me to.” 

“I didn’t,” you admit. “We said our things at the party, Arthur. There isn’t more to say.” 

He looks down at the fire. “Maybe for you. But please, Y/N, give me the chance to talk?” 

You recognize that he’s asking and not demanding, so you nod. He sighs and rubs his eyes for a moment. 

“What you said about me and Mary. Well, you were right. If she said even the tiniest word, I woulda gone to her. But these past few days without you have been tougher than all the years I spent without Mary. When she broke things off, my heart was broken. But when you broke things off. My heart wasn’t broken, it was just gone. I’ve taken ya for granted, Y/N. And you were right. It ain’t fair of me to accuse you of tryin’ to start things with other men when I’ve kept Mary in the wings for so long.”

Arthur stands up and approaches your side of the fire and sits down. He leaves several inches between you out of respect. “Y/N, I said I wasn’t gonna beg ya to take me back, and I’m not. However, if you wanted to reconsider trying again, I just want ya to know I’ll always be waitin’ for you. I’m willing to leave Mary in my past where she belongs. I guess I’m just hoping you’ll be in my future.” 

You’re trying not to cry again. You know when Arthur’s lying and his voice and just his energy says he’s being as authentic as ever. Your logic is telling you to say no, to leave things off. But that’s always been your problem. You’ve always listened to your brain more than your heart, which was why you were automatically suspicious when his first letter for Mary came. Maybe if you listened more to your heart, things would be different now. 

Arthur sighs again, looking away. “Anyways, I just wanted to set the record straight between us. I understand and I’ll respect your decision.” 

Arthur gets up and starts walking towards his horse, forgetting the meat he left on the grill to cook. If you let him leave now, the door to your future with him will close forever. You can’t let that happen and so you launch to your feet. 

“Arthur!” you wail, running up to him. He turns to be almost knocked off his feet by you throwing your weight at him. Before you can control yourself, you’re sobbing into his chest. He says nothing, but he wraps his arms around you, holding you tight and sets his chin on your head. He’s warm and familiar. You’ve buried yourself into him like this many times. His scent envelopes you, only adding to the range of emotions rushing through you. 

After a few moments, he loosens his hold and pulls you away slightly, giving you the grin that shows his wonky tooth. You love when he smiles like that. He dries your cheeks with his fingers before pulling a loose strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Hey, you’re okay,” he says softly. You sniff and nod, feeling like you must look like a child. His hands find yours, rubbing them softly. “So… I hope it’s not too soon to ask, but-” 

You shake your head and cut him off. “It’s not, Arthur. And yes, I’m willing to try again.” He smiles again and all you want him to do is hold you again. As if reading your mind, he pulls you back into his arms, letting you rest your head into the crook of his neck. His right hand settles on your lower back and his left wraps around your shoulders. 

“You’re too good for me, darlin’, but I’m grateful you’re giving me a second chance. I love you.”

#arthur morgan #red dead fanfic #awkward asks #rdr2 fanfic #I'm awkward

[elencelebrindal]

Honest Opinion - Eagle Marin

Remember how many different names we have in our adaptation? Well, let’s start the trend again. In Italy, Marin is called Castalia.

Overall score (character, not looks): 5/10

I want to start off by telling you why she lost half her score: Seiya. Why? I’m glad you asked. You see, when Marin first appeared, I thought to myself “oh, she’s a great character, calm and serious and perfect to be a master”. I honestly liked her, way more than now.  The thing is, she soon enough became a plot device for a romantic sub-story, because she had to fall in love with the protagonist. And this is absolute bullshit.  Come on, you want to make me believe that this woman, a Silver Saint, a warrior that was chosen to be the master for a new Saint, straight up fell in love with said Saint?

For how she was depicted in the beginning, what with her being considerate but still strict, it doesn’t make the slightest bit of sense.  She obviously cares about Seiya, I’m not denying that, but she’s his master. Marin’s supposed to be a more influential character than what she became, and I’m mad about this. 

Marin is incredibly smart, she soon figured out something was wrong at the Santuary, and knowing how dangerous was for her to defy rules and orders she still went the extra mile to warn the Bronze Saints.  Hell, she risked her life to do so! Also, she’s knowledgeable enough to know what to do in certain circumstances, and hadn’t it been for her Seiya would have been finally dead as soon as he tried to reach Arles after leaving the Pisces Temple.  And she’s powerful.  I don’t care what the anime tells us, because the Silver Saints being weak is due to the plot. The Bronzes need to win, so they’re stronger than who should be way better than them. 

Objectively speaking, Marin is physically strong and has to have a powerful cosmo, otherwise she wouldn’t be a Silver Saint. And seeing her so deprived of everything, included her dignity as a character since she basically becomes a person that keeps losing and being in distress for the sake of the protagonist’s importance, hurt both me and her.  Me because I started hating her, to the point of not wanting to see this Saint on screen when Seiya was nearby, and her because she should have been treated better. 

The first time I got absolutely mad was during the Asgard Arc, that I’m going to mention even if it’s technically non-canon (there’s no Asgard Arc in the manga, so to speak).  Why? They literally used her as plot device  and nothing more. She was useless. A character to throw in there just so the main protagonist could have a reason to so whatever he needed to do, in this case find and fight Megrez (or Alberich? I don’t know what you call him, sorry).  Sure, you told us the God Warriors are equals to the Gold Saints. But then, why are the Bronze Saints able to fight them off, while a Silver Saint cannot? You could say it’s because the Bronze Saints have a stronger cosmo, thanks to the previous events, but never once is that mentioned (unlike the Poseidon Arc).  So it’s pretty obvious they wanted to use her as a mean to achieve a task, and then quickly discarded the character in favor of the main Bronzes. 

[Dub digression]

So, Marin’s voice actress.  I think it’s safe to say she’s amazing for this character, the voice fits her perfectly, and conveys all the calmness and reliability Marin communicates.  It tends to be a little weird sometimes, but this happens with all the voices from the classic anime; I’m lead to think this is simply an issue caused by how old the classic is, since I’m sure voice acting and adaptation was fairly different in the 90′s than it is now. 

All in all, it’s pretty great and very appropriate. The voice actress is called Adriana Libretti, even though she hasn’t dubbed a lot of stuff. Mostly, I think she’s an actress and this definitely shows, since there’s no instances in the series you can tell she reading lines when dubbing Marin. (This happens with the majority of Italian voice actors, though, since most if not all of them study acting for the job. Maybe an unpopular opinion, but one reason why I really don’t like American voice acting is how fake it sounds, opposite to the Italian). 

If you’re curious, here’s an example: Le Stelle Agiscono In Te Have fun!

[End of the dub digression]

And don’t even get me started on the whole “Seiya is convinced that Marin is his sister and maybe viceversa”, because it’s absolute bullshit.  Now, I don’t know if this is an issue in every adaptation plus the original, but the Italian dub has something that I... not only hate, but absolutely cannot stand. It’s ridiculous.  For the sake of this post, I’m going to play if safe and say it maybe happens in every version, but surely in the Italian.  What am I talking about? The fact that Seiya, even after the other Silvers told him “hey, Marin is your sister”, still seems in love with her. And the same goes with Marin. She has doubts about Seiya, but is still in love with him.  What. The. Hell. 

How are you going to tell the audience “listen, maybe these two are brother and sister, even if they’re not sure about it” without getting rid of the romantic subplot that’s hinted every time they are together? Now, of course they’re not brother and sister, as it’s discovered when Seika finally appears in the Hades Chapter, and we also know Marin’s brother as Icarus Toma (man, I hope it’s the right name), but neither we or them know during the classic! And yet, it’s constantly hinted throughout the series, until we reach the Poseidon Arc and finally the “lie” or “belief” that Marin is Seiya’s sister takes a little bit more shape. 

This badly written story, alongside Marin gradually losing more and more relevance every episodes, contributed in making her one of my least favorite Silver Saints.  I’m confident in saying that, hadn’t Seiya did his protagonist thing, she could have easily been one of the best Saints out there.  Seiya ruined her, just like he ruined a lot more characters, thanks to the egoist protagonism behind his character nature. 

And, thanks to this, I used to like her, and now I don’t. 

#saint seiya #i cavalieri dello zodiaco #Los Caballeros del Zodiaco #cavaleiros do zodiaco #silver saints #eagle marin #aquila #marin #castalia #castalia dell'aquila #my opinion #honest opinion

[pixiesstolemyapples]

Stormy Night Chapter 7

A/N: Alright guys..... this is really really long, and I really apologize, but I seriously could not stop writing. I am incredibly proud of this chapter, so I hope you all really enjoy reading this!! If you’d like to read this chapter on my FanFiction or my AO3, please click those links! Also I definitely will be putting a read more on here, like I always do, but this is especially long, so I apologize in advance if it’s really long on the mobile app, it sometimes doesn’t want to add the read more on the app and I still don’t know why.

Chapter 1/Chapter 2/Chapter 3/Chapter 4/Chapter 5/Chapter 6/Chapter 7

P.S. Is it weird that I watched someone play Resident Evil 7 Biohazard throughout the entirety of writing this? Yes right???

               After everything she'd been through, she finally found him. It took almost everything out of her, but Pidge finally found him. Her brother, Matt, she'd finally found Matt. She nearly thought she'd lost him on that planet of infinite gravestones, but thankfully enough, she remembered the deciphering book both her brother and father had studied together. All thanks to that, she finally found Matt. After all this time. She still hadn't found her father, but her brother was finally here, in the castle, directly in her eyesight. It almost felt like a dream.

               And Lance. Lance had never been so incredibly happy for Pidge. She'd been through so much, losing both her brother and her father in this same mission, both of them presumed to be dead. And yet she had stayed so strong, doing everything in her power to bring them back to her. And here Matt was, sitting next to them, eating breakfast. The night she'd brought him back, she was so happy. She'd talked and talked and talked until her eyes were drooping. But when they'd snuck off to bed finally, Lance and Pidge almost couldn't get to sleep. Pidge was smiling so hard, and yet so many tears were streaming down her cheeks as Lance held her tight, smiling in tandem at the sheer happiness he held in his heart for her.

               The next few weeks had been pretty standard. Matt did recon work with his fellow rebels, the paladins helped to strengthen the Voltron Coalition. Everything had almost been a little boring at times. Every once in a while they'd go and take out a Galra strike or blockade, but even then, Lance and Pidge mostly fought side by side, played some video games, did some training, went to sleep. It was all very... domestic at times. Not that Pidge exactly minded.

               Finally one day Allura alerted everyone to the main deck of the castle. Wondering what it could be, everyone quickly met her and Coran to find out what the important news could be. Allura was found standing in the middle of the main deck, excitedly wringing her hands together.

               "Princess?" Shiro asked inquisitively. "Are you okay?"

               "I mean she's wringing her hands together with a giant smile on her face, it's, uh, just a little unsettling," Hunk said, peering over at Shiro. "Are you sick, Allura?"

               "I am just fine, everybody, but I have amazing news!" Allura beamed, looking around at everybody as Coran pulled up a screen that showed what looked vaguely like a... party invitation?

               "What is this, some kind of party we're going to have or something?" asked Lance, putting his hand on his hip as he set his other arm atop Pidge's head.

               Pidge's eyebrows went up in realization, not even a little bit phased by Lance. "You want to have a ball commemorating all who are currently in the Voltron Coalition, I'm guessing." She wasn't asking, she figured that's what it was. Coran's and Allura's faces drooped a bit.

               "Pidge, you're entirely too smart for your own good sometimes, you know that?" Coran said, pinching his orange mustache between his fingers.

               "That is why we love her," Allura said after recovering. "That is correct though! We've been having so much success gathering members of our coalition that I believe it's time to have a show of good faith. We'll be inviting everyone from foreign dignitaries to rebel forces alike, right here to Olkarion. I want them all to know that we are here supporting them, no matter what."

               "Ahh, okay, so you want us to fly around in our lions, do a little show, form Voltron, give em the ol' razzle dazzle?" Lance said, his one arm still on Pidge, the other gesturing around wildly.

               "Um, actually, no," Coran said, putting his hands behind his back, Lance taken aback at the statement.

               "While we will still be highly alert at any security breach," Allura began to explain, "I'd actually like you all to wear formal wear when the evening comes. No paladin armor, nothing casual, none of those things you affectionately call "sneakers" despite the fact that they squeak quite often, Hunk." Hunk sadly looked down at his shoes. "Everyone will look their very best! Even Keith and Kolivan will be there briefly in support. In the meantime, we'll be sending out invitations, however the ball will be happening in five quintent's time. We shall be ready then!"

               "Plus it's a time for us to all de-stress," Coran said in his ever enthusiastic voice, "it is a party after all!"

               With that, Allura parted ways with the gang with Coran on her tail, the two of them obviously excited for the party they were throwing. Pidge was happy Allura was so excited. She certainly needed some time to wind down, act like the princess she was every once in a while.

               "Soooo, you think there will be good food at this shindig? Ohhh, you think Allura would let me help with the caterers? Have we even gotten caterers yet? Oh man now I'm excited!" Hunk was gleefully babbling, Lance and Pidge smiling as he hurried out the door after Allura and Coran. Hunk nearly screamed of fright when Allura suddenly popped her head back into the room.

               "Oh and Pidge?" she asked, Pidge quickly looking in Allura's direction. "Would you mind coming with me, please?"

               Lance and Pidge looked at each other, Pidge shrugging at Lance as she smiled and waved him goodbye. Allura somehow had an even more excited look in her pink-blue eyes as she pulled Pidge along, giving Lance one last alarmed look on her face as Lance watched her leave with Allura, maybe even more perplexed than Pidge at that point.

               Everything was set, decorations were insane, food was to die for, mostly thanks to Hunk, and most importantly, there was security at every possible entrance of not only the castle, but a beacon made by the team's resident green engineer that would send a signal to the paladins if an unauthorized ship arrived within a certain perimeter of the planet for extra security measure. They obviously did not want a repeat of what happened on Arus.

               Many foreign dignitaries, representatives from planets apart of the Voltron Coalition, rebel leaders and hopeful contenders for the VC were gathered around parts of the castle, important conversations happening in all corners of the ball room. Allura and Coran really went all out, everything around the castle had been decorated in all the colors of Voltron, music reverberating throughout the hall.

               Lance was standing at a small table over near Hunk, sipping on what he knew for sure wasn't that horrible vitamin juice he drank the last time. He had been snacking on a small hors d'oeuvre that had a crunch like a cucumber but tasted almost like avocado and shrimp topped with what he assumed was maybe something like cream cheese, but Lance didn't exactly want to pry into it. All he knew was that it tasted good.

               "Hunk, you did a really good job on all of these," Lance told him, Hunk beaming at the compliment. "I can barely even tell these aren't Earth flavors."

               "Thanks, Lance," Hunk replied with a wide smile. "I worked really hard on complimenting everything together, like the one that tastes like smoked salmon topped over what feels like Italian bread was interesting since neither of those things originally look anything like- uh, Lance? Lance?"

               Lance was no longer listening, his cup slipping from his lip, green punch dribbling out of the cup and onto the tablecloth, Hunk's voice drifting slowly from his ears. He'd spotted someone, standing next to Matt, a small smile on her face as she conversed with Ryner, her fingers linked together behind her back. Pidge looked the same as ever, however her fringe was braided down two sides, wrapped behind her head, thin green cord wrapped into the braids. Everything about her was as if she were a part of nature. Her forest green lacy dress stopped right above her knees, the skirt flaring around her legs, a thin black belt sitting softly above her hips. The collar was a short V-neck, the laced sleeves of the dress stopping at her elbows. Somehow the color brilliantly brought out her eyes, the brilliance in her eyes bringing out her freckles. He could just barely see some of the freckles still dotting around her arms where the sleeves stopped. Everything about the way she looked was so Pidge, so natural and simple yet it had such an incredible effect on him.

               Pidge was having a compelling conversation with Ryner and Matt on the integration of their tech and nature, Matt fascinated by the Olkari intellect when Pidge peered over where Lance and Hunk were eating. Lance was staring off into space in her general direction, noticing that his drink was dribbling onto the tablecloth in front of him. Pidge's eyebrow quirked up in wonder, peering behind her for a moment, seeing Allura with her hair up in a long, wavy ponytail and wearing a shimmery silver dress with long sleeves, mermaid style with an exposed back, talking to Keith and Kolivan who were wearing similar tuxedos, black with hints of purple akin to their Blade of Marmora armor. Pidge turned back around, seeing Lance striding toward them. She turned back to Ryner and Matt, assuming Lance would be passing by to speak to Allura. She nearly jumped when he stopped and spoke up to her.

               "You sure look fancy," he finally said after a silent moment. She quirked her eyebrow once again, only for a moment later a wide grin to appear on her face.

               "Thank you, Lance," she replied, pushing her glasses slightly up her nose. "Allura kind of freaked out a little bit, she wanted us so badly to pick out outfits together, but she said she didn't want to pressure me into wearing a dress because she didn't want me to feel uncomfortable, and I was like 'Allura, I've worn dresses before!'" she laughed, peering up at Lance as he chuckled.

               "Well, you look incredibly beautiful," Lance said without thinking. Pidge looked away suddenly, a small smile forming on her lips, a deep red blush painting her cheeks, trying to push her hair behind her ear despite it being braided behind her head already. Lance held the back of his head sheepishly, feeling his heart beat a little faster when he heard a quiet "thank you" leave her lips.

               Pidge looked around at all of the people surrounding them. Some were dotted around the tables, snacking on all the food Hunk almost singlehandedly planned and helped make, some were conversing with others, such as Allura talking to other leaders, and some, Pidge noticed, were dancing to the slightly upbeat tempo of the music. Pidge let out a small sigh, watching them all sway to the music.

               She felt a nudge to her elbow, looking over at Lance. "Do you want to dance, Pidge?" he asked her, a side smile appearing on his face, a sheepish blush dusting his cheeks. Pidge raised her eyebrows, couldn't help from smiling.

               "I-I don't know," she said, looking away and trying to brush her hair behind her ear again. "I'm a little too short to dance with."

               Lance laughed, holding his stomach a bit as he reached out his other hand to her. "Don't be silly, Pidge. Please?" he asked, his last statement coming out in a soft breath. "Dance with me."

               She peered up at him, looking into his deep blue eyes, the way they crinkled with his smoldering smile made her tummy flip a few times. She bit her lip, looking down and peering up at him through her eyelashes, a blush covering her freckles. She placed her hand into his, his fingers curling gently around hers, his thumb rubbing softly over her knuckles as he lead her to the dance floor.

               Soft, semi slow music was playing, a song that almost sounded jazzy with an intergalactic flair to it. Lance gently placed his hand on her hip, feeling the texture of the lace of her dress under his fingers, still holding her hand in his other hand. She held his shoulder and the two began to sway to the music. At first it felt a little awkward, they swayed to the music in silence, purposefully looking in opposite directions.

               "So," he said looking back at her," is having Matt back everything that you dreamed of?"

               Pidge beamed, her white pearly teeth showing. "It's made me so happy to see him again, Lance. He's done so much since he was liberated by the rebels. And look at me. I'm the left arm of Voltron, also battling against a galactic empire. It's interesting how similar we've lead our lives, huh?"

               "Heh, the Holt siblings," Lance chuckled, spinning her around. "I'm really happy you were able to find each other, Pidge. I know how close you two are."

               "Thank you, Lance," Pidge said with a smile. She looked down, her smile faltering, and then eventually fading. "I just wish... I knew where my dad was.... a-and I'm sure my mom thinks we're all dead by now..." Her fingers curled into his suit jacket, setting her forehead against his loose aqua blue tie. His eyebrows knitted up, suddenly hearing the music get a little more upbeat than before. Lance grinned, pulling away from her for just a moment, readjusting his hands and spinning and swaying along with Pidge a little faster. She stared up at him in surprise, a laugh escaping his throat as he spun her around again. All traces of sadness had left Pidge's face as a look of astonishment replaced it all. She giggled as the two went on swaying, dancing, spinning and laughing. She forgot all her sadness after only  a couple of minutes of watching his handsome happy face.

               Finally after a short while, the two stood at the edge of the dance floor, talking about everything they could think of, Lance's niece and nephew, Pidge's taste in music (Spanish she conveniently left out), Lance getting punched when he admitted he lost her headphones again. Pidge was sharing some of her Killbot Phantasm tips as they headed towards a table where a couple plates of food were sitting. Allura and Hunk walked over, making small talk as Lance offered to go get Pidge and him a couple drinks. Pidge leaned her elbows on the table, hooking one leg behind the other, catching her breath.

               She turned to Hunk. "Am I sweating at all?" she asked him, leaning toward him a little more.

               "Uuuuuaaaahhhhhhhhmmmmm," Hunk stammered, looking her over but not wanting to embarrass her. "Yyyyeahhh, you kinda are."

               Pidge side smiled, nodding and grabbing a couple napkins from the middle of the table, slipping her glasses from her face and wiping her eyelids, nose and forehead. She wasn't embarrassed at all, she knew she had a bit of a sweating problem. But at that moment, she really did not care.

               Pidge felt a light touch on her shoulder, turning around to see Allura smiling down at her. "I hope all of you are having a grand time tonight," she said with a sweet cock to her head. Allura's pink blue eyes were sparkling with curiosity and a hint of... anticipation?

               "...Allura?" Pidge asked quietly, noticing she was twirling a strand of her wavy white hair around her finger. She looked so beautiful tonight, if that were even possible, since she was beautiful all the time. But Pidge definitely was noticing something a little off with Allura in that moment. "Are you okay?" Allura perked up when she realized Pidge was peering into her face with a perplexed look.

               "Well... Pidge..." Allura murmured. "You know that device you have, the orange one that you analyze things with and to tell the time?"

               Pidge nodded. "Sure, what about it?"

               "It's such a nice night tonight, would you please take a picture of the both of us?" Allura asked quietly, a blush creeping up her face. Pidge grinned, her shoulders rising up as she took in a deep breath of delight.

               "Of course, Allura, I'd love to!" Pidge exclaimed as she quickly pulled her device out of her skirt pocket. Pidge wrapped her arm around Allura, turning on the camera function and taking a quick picture of the two of them together. Pidge and Allura looked down at the picture, the both of them entirely delighted at the way it turned out, Allura with her shimmery dress and Pidge decked out in forest green, both of their smiles big and beautiful. They would surely cherish this picture forever.

               "Thank you, Pidge," Allura said, pulling her into a tight hug. Pidge smiled, squeezing her back in turn, a wide smile nearly splitting her face. Allura pulled away. "I just had so much fun getting ready with you today and I have so much work to do, talking with all of our guests today, I wasn't sure when I would be able to catch you. And..." she leaned in close. "You and Lance seem to be having a very nice time, wouldn't you think?" Pidge was a bit taken aback by the way Allura said that, but Pidge smiled softly, a small pink blush covering her cheeks as she gave a single nod. Allura smiled, leaning back.

               "Well, I'm afraid I must get back to it, I'll see you all later!" Allura left with a wave just as Lance was coming back balancing four small drinks in his hand, holding one out for Allura to take with a smile. He happily handed one off to Pidge, setting one down for Hunk and sipping on his as they sat and talked. Suddenly remembering something with a gasp, Lance picked up a small thick square disc and handed it to Pidge. Hunk squee'd, excited about the small piece of food.

               "We made these just for you, Pidge!" Hunk exclaimed, holding his hands together in excitement. Pidge quirked up her eyebrow, eying the little disc before popping it into her mouth. Her eyes got big, her cheeks puffing out in delight, her hands raising up in excitement.

               Peanut! Butter!! Cookies!!!

               Almost bringing tears to her eyes, Pidge slowly chewed the treat and swallowed.

               "Guys....." Pidge whispered. "That was the most amazing thing I have had in a long time."

               "Well, it certainly wasn't easy to recreate something that tasted like a peanut butter cookie," Hunk replied. "But we wanted to do something nice for you, after everything you went through with finding Matt."

               "You guys are the best," Pidge murmured. "You're my best friends."

               Hunk smiled back at her, his eyebrows knitting up in empathy. He looked into his drink, seeing that it was empty, saying that he was going to go off to refill it. As she watched him go, Pidge realized what amazing friends she had. They cared about spending time with her, her interests, taking pictures with her, knowing what her favorite foods were. She was incredibly loved and happy. She just wished her dad were here with her.

               "Hunk worked really hard on those cookies," Lance said with a smile. "I hope you liked them."

               "Of course I did," Pidge replied, popping another into her mouth, silently reminding herself to save some for later. "How did you guys know peanut butter was my favorite?"

               "Allura told us," Lance told her. Pidge looked down with a smile. She was incredibly thankful for Allura, too. "Plus," Lance added, setting his hand between her shoulder and neck, leaning his lips toward her ear, a soft whisper escaping him, "you talk in your sleep."

               Pidge's eyes fluttered, her breath catching in her throat, butterflies erupting in her tummy. Was it the whisper? The closeness? Or just Lance that made her react in that way. However she didn't have much time to dwell on it. The music shifted to a soft, achingly slow song. Lance stared back at the band for a moment, slowly turning his head again to peer down at Pidge. His face was shaded, his pupils growing as he stared down at her, a hot, smoldering look on his face. Pidge had trouble looking away from him in that moment, curling her hands into the table cloth. He held his hand out to her, an almost serious expression on his face. Without taking her eyes off his, she took his hand, Lance leading them to the middle of the dance floor once again.

               Lance held her hand, placing his other hand on her hip, a similar position they were at the beginning of the night. They swayed to the music once again, much slower this time. But there was no content talk, no Killbot Phantasm strategies to discuss, no witty remarks. They simply peered into each other's eyes. Lance had such deep dark blue eyes, like staring into the deep waters of the ocean from below the waves, looking up to see streaks of moving light in the shimmering waters. Pidge's eyes likewise were like orbs of amber, like delicate drops of honey with flecks of gold and green surrounding her pupils. With every moment passed, Lance pulled Pidge closer, his hand slowly moving from her hip, curling around the small of her back. He let go of her hand, wrapping his free hand around her, holding his hand between her shoulder blades, Pidge placing her palm to his chest, sliding her other arm to his neck, her fingers caressing the hair at the nape of his neck. She felt him suck a quick breath in at her touch, squeezing his eyes closed as he let out his breath. He opened his eyes to stare back into her infinite orbs, endless sparkling shards of luminescent drops of starlight. She could feel his heart thrumming in his chest, his arms wrapping tighter around her with every passing moment, pulling her closer and closer toward him.

               Pidge's glasses had slowly slid down her nose, but she barely noticed as the romantic music surrounded her and Lance. He finally pulled her until she was flush against his chest, the two of them feeling their hearts beat incessantly against one another. Lance moved closer and closer to her face, finally pressing his cheek to hers, feeling his cool breath against her ear, a shudder running throughout her body as she threaded her fingers through his chocolate brown hair. She felt his body shake momentarily with mirth at her reaction, at this point Lance and Pidge wrapped in each other's arms, just barely still swaying to the music.

               So many emotions were running through Pidge's mind, feeling them in her body and soul as he held her in his arms. This tall, dark, witty, kind and fun loving boy had to have been feeling the same things she was feeling in that moment; this boy who had made her laugh so hard, feel so safe, so secure, so happy, so loved.

               She moved her head back, looking into his face once more, his eyes searching her face. So loved.

               She loved him.

               Pidge loved Lance.

               It was like a ton of bricks hit her. Like a complete revelation, as if she had found the meaning to life right in front of her. Like she had the answer to every quantum physics question ever thought of.

               Pidge placed her fingers at the base of his jaw, the other still feeling his hair between her fingers. She found herself moving forward without realizing it, Lance's pupils getting bigger as they snapped from her eyes to her lips. Her lips were just a hair's breadth from his, feeling his cool breath on her lips when she stopped, her eyes scanning around at the couple guests staring at them, a deep red blush painting her cheeks, suddenly pulling away and staring down at her shoes, feeling his smiling lips against her hairline. He stepped away from her, his hands slowly running down her arms, causing another short shudder from Pidge, lacing his fingers between her own. She peered at him through her eyelashes, seeing his bright, genuine smile and hearing a short, compassionate laugh escape his throat, he too dusting a red hue across his cheeks. She loved that look. His gaze held so much gentleness, a curl in his sweet smile, a crinkle in his eyes. But a serious look crossed his face for a moment, looking around him and Pidge, letting go of one hand and suddenly pulling her behind him, eventually leaving the main hall, the music fading slowly away behind them, only faintly being heard from the castle comm system.

               Pidge quickly followed after him, her heart beating so hard and fast she could feel it in her ears. Heading up the stairs where Lance knew none of the guests would venture, he stopped, backing Pidge against the nearest wall, one hand on the wall next to her shoulder, his other forearm on the wall directly next to her head. Both Lance and Pidge were breathing hard, Pidge's hand wrapped in the collar of Lance's suit, the other snaked around the nape of his neck. Lance moved his face dangerously close to hers once more, this time no one around to interrupt what she was about to do before. Her glasses were still slipped down nearly to the tip of her nose, Lance side smiling before carefully moving them back up to where they were supposed to sit, Pidge's eyes nearly crossing at how close Lance was to her again. His hands rested upon her once again, one to the small of her back, one sitting heavily on her shoulder. Pidge's hands both were at his jaw, her heart beating so fast, flutters in her tummy never ending. He moved once again, his eyes never leaving her lips, finally moving so close that she could feel his breath on her lips.

               And finally their lips pressed against each other. Pidge breathed in quickly through her nose, feeling sparks explode in her stomach, seeing stars behind her closed eyes, her heart beating so hard she thought it would burst from her chest. She could feel him smiling against her lips before he slanted them against hers, getting a new angle and feeling her upper lip between his mouth. He slipped away from her lips with a pop, a soft chuckle escaping his throat as he pressed his lips back to hers the very next second. His arms were wrapped so tight around her, feeling his fast beating heart against her chest. Gasps and groans were reverberating from the back of his throat, Pidge's eyebrows knitting up as she felt another shudder move throughout her body. Lance moved back, removing himself from her close vicinity, his arms still around her as he looked into her deep red face, her eyes looking down as she tried to calm her breathing.

               Lance looked around once again, gently taking her hand as he moved down the hallway into one of the rooms off the hall. Suddenly Pidge realized that they were in Lance's bedroom. He closed the door, digging through one of his drawers, pulling out a couple pairs of clothing. He looked back, the dim light shading his face in a way that made Pidge's heart beat swiftly. He handed her some of the clothing in his hands, gently pushing her to the side of the room and turning her around. She could hear him removing his suit, Pidge's heart beating even faster as she unzipped her dress, slipping on her sleep shorts and sleep shirt Lance had been keeping in his drawers since they change rooms at times. She nervously looked behind her to see him slipping off his dress shirt, revealing his broad, toned, dark skinned back. She quickly turned back around, her face growing extremely hot, finishing changing into her sleep clothes. She finally looked back again to see him in his pajamas, hanging his suit on the wall,  carefully peering back at her, almost as if he still wanted to make sure she was finished changing.

               Pidge quietly padded over to the bed, laying down with her face toward the wall. She felt the mattress move, feeling Lance's hand heavy on her hip before moving his hand toward her neck, moving her hair behind her ear, pressing his lips to her neck. Pidge bit her lip, squeezing her eyes shut at the incredibly different sensation. She let out a quick breath, turning over to see Lance directly overhead, both his hands on either side of her head. He slipped the glasses from her face, setting them down gently next to the bed, turning back only to feel Pidge wrap both of her arms right around his neck, smashing her lips to his. Their lips moved against each other, slipping away from one another only to slip back like magnets. It was everything Pidge had dreamed this would feel like, how his lips would taste, the feel, his arms wrapped around her, his body weighing on top of her. Was this real? Was it a dream? Please. Please don't let this be a dream.

               One last, achingly long finishing kiss, his lips slowly parting from hers, he peered down at her, her eyes sparkling in the dim light, her hair slightly messy, her lips pink and puffy, her cheeks red as his Lion, her freckles dotted all over her face.

               "You're astonishing," he murmured, his eyes shifting between her eyes, her hair, her lips. The remark made her stomach flip, squeezing her lips together and letting out a shuddering breath. She peered back into his blue eyes, caressing his jaw line with her fingers, Lance leaning down to press his lips to her jaw, and then her cheek, her forehead, Pidge closing her eyes at the gesture. He pressed his lips once more to hers, his hands finding her hands above her head, lacing their fingers together. His lips moved against hers again, suddenly feeling his tongue swiping between her lips. She squeezed her fingers against his hands as she felt his tongue touching hers, an entirely unusual and unexpected sensation erupting from her chest. The two finally parted, barely able to catch their breaths. She could feel his breath on her mouth, feeling his palm cover her cheek, caressing under her eye with his thumb.

               Lance leaned over to lay down next to her, Pidge quickly wrapping her arms around him, their legs tangling around each other, Lance squeezing her tight to his chest, resting his cheek atop her head. Everything that happened was completely unexpected, extraordinary, remarkable. She curled her fingers into his soft sleep shirt, snuggling further into his chest, feeling him softly chuckle, holding her closer. I love him, she thought as she closed her eyes. I love him, she thought as she listened to his heartbeat. I love him, the last words she remembered thinking as she drifted off to sleep.

#plance #pidgance #flirtyrobot #vld #voltron #voltron legendary defender #lance #pidge #katie #lance x pidge #pidge x lance #lance x katie #katie x lance #pidge holt #katie holt #fanfiction #plance fanfiction #my fanfiction

[vermiculus-incipiens]

OOC INFORMATION:

What’s your name? Myr

Preferred Pronouns: She/her pronouns

Timezone: GMT+1

IC INFORMATION:

Character Name: Daisy Gemma Maris Hookum Daisy - From the English word for the white flower, ultimately derived from the word ‘daesaege’ which means ‘day eye’. It gained its popularity in the 19th century when many of plant and flower names were used as names. Gemma - It is an Italian nickname meaning ‘gem - precious stone’. A variation also often seen in Great Britain is Jemma. Maris - The use of this name is rare in the English language. It’s meaning as ‘means of the sea’. It’s from the Latin title of Virgin Mary, ‘Stella Maris’. This means to be exact ‘the star of the sea’. Hookum - The name looks close to the Irish surname ‘Logan’. It comes from the ‘descendants of Ogan’. Ogan is a diminutive of óg meaning ‘young’.

What’s a hobby or pastime that your character enjoys? Daisy is inseparable from her writing pad. Wherever she goes, she always carries one with her so she can write whenever she wants. Her mother introduced her to the pen and she will always have one with her as well, next to a spelled quill that would produce its own ink. So it is safe to say that a hobby / pastime to Daisy is to write. It’s kind of cliché, but she loves a dramatic and romantic setting. It is the same subject of the books that she reads so much and that she can forget the entire world in. If she wants, she can spend an entire day with her nose in a book. She doesn’t mind studying for her school as well however. She tries to keep up with the subject that she would have followed at school with tutors in Diagon Alley. As of right now she wants to be finish her school once the war is over.

Do you have any preferred ships or anti-ships? I don’t really have anti-ships for Daisy. First and foremost I am one for chemistry between two characters. So if that happens then it is great of course! But when it comes to Daisy however there is only one ship that I go for and that is of course Daisy x Tilden. I love their dynamics and their backstory. I just have to say that it is cute.

What do you think your character’s Boggart would be? If their greatest fear isn’t something that could easily take a solid form, what is it? Why? Her Boggart would take form into a headstone. It is the headstone of her mother’s grave but this time the name of her father is also added. And if she probably was close by the Boggart for longer then more graves will be shown as well. With Tilden’s grave next. All the dates on the graves are timed in the period of the war. The reason that her Boggart would take this form is simple; Daisy don’t want to lose more people to the war than she already have. Her mother might have been the only loss to her but it is enough. The young woman is pretty sure that she would not survive it mentally if someone else is taken away from her as well besides her mother.

What’s your character’s biggest pet peeve? It is quite a silly pet peeve. At least, that is what Daisy would call it. Her biggest pet peeve is when people walk too slowly in front of her when walking in the city. She is a quick-pace walker most of the times. She can get very irritated or annoyed whenever she is stuck behind them and is unable to get past them. If you are joining her at that moment you’ll definitely notice.

What would you consider to be an eccentricity of your character? Daisy has a profound love for everything that writes. She has a collection of writables. This includes two typewriters, several quills (some write on their own, some write when talked to, some predict), different kinds of ink (some change color depending on mood, all kinds of colors) but also Muggle attributes like different pens, pencils and writing pads. Every time she finds a shop with these attributes, she has to buy something. Her father would say she had enough by now but she would argue otherwise. Scribbulus Writing Instruments is her favourite shop in Diagon Alley.

What is / was your character’s favorite subject in school? Why? Despite having a Muggle mother, Daisy found Muggle Studies to be her favourite subject at Hogwarts. It is a different kind of view on the world that she knows so well and as she can learn from this and this view on Muggles, others are also able to learn from her as she’s a part of the Muggle world whenever she returned home as well. She believes that the relationship between Muggles and the Wizarding World could be so much better if there weren’t people with a patronizing view of the other. They are all equal, the Wizarding World had his plus sides, just as the Muggle World has.

What time of day is your character’s favorite? What time of year? Daisy prefers late nights or maybe even midnights. It is at those times that she gets the most inspiration when it comes to writing. Even with her eyes heavy of sleep she is able to get the most words on paper at that time. It is not that enjoyable for her neighbours probably since she does her writing at home with a typewriter that she had gotten from her mother at the age of eleven. When it comes to her favourite time of the year, it has become the spring. This means that most of the plants and flowers are in full bloom. Maybe it is because of Tilden, maybe she does her name justice, but she loves it to be outside in the spring. At times chilly but the view makes up for that without any problems.

What’s your character’s Patronus? If they can’t conjure one, what would it be if they could? Why? When Daisy has tried before to conjure a Patronus, she was unable to do so. Ever since classes she hasn’t tried again. If she would have to do it again right now, she would not be able to do so. The memory of her mother dying is one that is too fresh and too heavy for her to be able to find a happy memory at the moment. Her Patronus would be a Basset Hound however. It is not something that many people would expect with her since the Patronus looks a bit clumsy. But the Hound is a sign of being smart, intelligent. They are a bit stubborn but above all friendly and devoted to their friends - or in Daisy’s situation also devoted to whatever she put herself to. Determination above all.

What is your character’s biggest vice (bad habit or immoral craving)? Daisy’s biggest vice is hastiness. This can be discovered in different ways. She does things without thinking it through properly. This is due to lack of time or simply due to impulses. This is definitely what is the case with her the most. She acts on what she feels and with the current developments in her life, acting on her feelings is not the greatest things to do. There are only a few things that keep her grounded very much but she tries her best on changing this.

Is your character an introvert or extrovert? How well do they handle social situations? Daisy can be seen as a combination of both. Whenever she joins in social matters, she first stays silent so she can look into the situation. It will take a little bit of time before she decided to join in. She won’t go meddling into subject that she doesn’t have a say in. Once Daisy is feeling more in her place then she will start the talking and once she’s started it can be a lot. She can ramble in moments when she feels comfortable and sometimes you will have to stop her from talking. So this is why I would call Daisy both an introvert and an extrovert.

What is your character’s diet like? What’s his or her favorite food? If you look at Daisy, you would definitely not expect it but she is a person that is able to eat whatever she wants. She can surprise you with how much she is able to eat before she is finally full. She has a massive sweet tooth, so you would make her happy with any kind of dessert. This is definitely something that she has from her father. She can remember very well how long they would be seated at the dining table after dinner together simply because the food was good and the mood was nice because of it. If she had to pick one type of food she would go for anything chocolate related.

How do you think your character’s psychological issues have manifested and changed your character up to this point? Daisy has shown a big growth in her character due to the war. She had to grow up all of a sudden. It was not possible for her anymore to enjoy her youth and her time at Hogwarts. The war had gotten too close to her all of a sudden. The death of her mother in front of her eyes is something that is edged into her brain. Whenever she closes her eyes, she sees it happen in front of her. Sleeping got harder and there are times whenever she wakes up screaming for her mother as she died in her arms. But this happens behind closed doors, no one knows about this besides the one that are close to her and the ones that have seen her during the night. When Daisy is out in the open she is one that tries to keep a brave face. She does not want to be seen as weak. People already underestimate her and it would only grow worse if they would take pity on her. Daisy will always keep her walls up and it will take quite something to make her break down those walls.

Give us a headcanon for your character. Anything is acceptable. Daisy started her seventh and last year at Hogwarts, knowing very well that her heart was somewhere else. The war had already started when she started her last year and she had lost her mother in the winter of her sixth year. Her focus was not at school work anymore, it was on the many people at school that were suddenly not worthy of any of her trust. So when Dumbledore let every student at Hogwarts know that they would not be allowed to be a part from the Order of the Phoenix, it was an easy decision made by Daisy. Mostly out of stubbornness but she decided to stay home after the winter holidays. Until this day she has not regretted it one bit, despite taking lessons of tutors so she will be able to finish her last year one day.

#Accepted #VIAccepted #Daisy Hookum #Closed Character