#and how bright and attention grabbing they are in terms of color and pattern

[thewayuarent]

Clothes in Only Friends

And how it let us know everything we need about Ray’s choice

God, do I love costume department working on Only Friends. There is so, so many fun and interesting things to notice - “talking” t-shirts (especially Boston’s), and Sand with yellow, and how TopMew started as “striped” couple - but one is vertical and the other is horizontal (is it about them being misreading each other? or is it about them crossing each other’s lives? idk), how Boeing appeared and we immediately see TopMew vibes all over him. How we can easily indicate each character individual style.

But my favorite thing is how the series uses style shifting to show what’s going on with characters without telling it out loud.

We have Nick, who was so obsessed in his jealousy, that he started to copy man he knew Boston was interested in. We see him coming back in terms with Boston, but we also see him learning to accept himself again - the way his style got back to his usual one, with green and blue colors and more boyish vibes. He’s not the same, because his experience changed him, but he is who he is, not a shadow of someone else.

We have Mew, who adapted Ray’s style and behavior because he was hurt, and he chooses to numb his pain, and he gets to the only person he thinks can help him with that. He’s coming back to his senses by the end of episode nine, but he’s still very Ray-coded, because he still didn’t figure out who he is or what he wants and he’s in the middle of his journey (I’m so waiting to see how it will turn out).

And we have Ray, and his example is so fascinating. Because if you look at Ray’s choices of clothing in episodes 8 and 9, you can actually predict everything happens. (I will exclude scenes from university cause, well, uniform)

His style screams Sand most part of the time, but it’s absolutely not about him wanting to adapt Sand’s life or look. It’s about him choosing Sand since the very beginning of his and Mew situationship. Because while Ray needs his time to realize everything about him and Mew and him and Sand, we know he already subconsciously made his choice. As well as we know Ray and Mew will never work out way before they are ready to admit it.

The talk. There a lot of things were said out loud for the first time in this scene that are every important. But this is also about what was shown to us - that the first time we see Ray and Mew as a “couple” is also the first time Ray chooses to wear something Sand-coded. Specifically something very similar to what Sand picked for him.

And there is something about Ray saying “I’m so happy when I’m with you” (can he hear himself? no, but really, it’s been two weeks and I’m still like, bro, for real?) while he stays here, wearing this shirt that looks like the one he wears at the night they were happy, and the night their relationship was damaged hard.

The bookshop. Here we see Ray way closer to his usual style, but not exactly. Ray is always extravagant, and attention grabbing, and using patterns, and lip gloss, and he is just that kind of person. But here he’s quiet. And monochrome. No make up, not patterns, no usual brightness. Mew looks more like Ray than Ray himself.

And this is indicating why their relationship with Mew is wrong - Ray is not fully himself, he adapts in a way Mew never asked him, actually, but he knows makes his presence more tolerable. He seems like himself, sure, but he doesn’t feels like himself.

The party. I made a post about is already - it’s just great example of Mew and Ray thinking they are on the same page while they are actually not even from the same book.

It’s all about toxicity, and pain, and dragging each other down instead of helping each other to stand.

The fight. This is my absolute favorite one. Because this whole conversation - absolutely unhealthy and terrible it is - is actually both of them realizing they will never work out.

And they try so, so hard. And I believe it’s really frustrating for both of them to accept they failed. And of course instead of talking it out they blames each other, and hurt each other. And of course they will manage thing well later - but this is their breaking point, right here.

And of course Ray, who is attentive enough to recognize Mew’s feelings for Top has no fucking idea about him spending this whole time with Sand written all over him. While Yo knows, and Mew knows, and everyone including my grandma knows - he himself is just not ready to allow himself to admit it.

The river. So, this scene, as well as next one, Ray wears not just Sand-coded clothes, but actual Sand’s clothes. But there is a difference.

Because this is the scene where Ray finally admits his feelings - but he’s able to do it only after Sand admits his. Because Ray is incredibly insecure, and incredibly drowned in self-hatred, because Ray always reaches towards people who give him attention and love. Because he can’t allow himself to go for such risk without assurance.

And he’s sitting here with Sand, and Sand is in bright blue color, while Ray is in his t-shirt, but dark, and black, and with “You Only Live Once” and he’s admitting - to Sand and himself - his feelings, but he doesn’t admit to himself that he’s already made his choice until the very next scene.

The choice. And they are sitting again, and that’s only two of them again, and Ray wears Sand’s t-shirt again, and this is very different.

Because this is not just occasional t-shirt. This is the one we saw Sand wears. This is the one that was on him the very same day Ray made an attempt to move on from Mew. The very same day Ray said “I want to know you better”, the very same day he invited himself in Sand’s life. The day they were probably very happy, even if way far from well communicated, the day that could become an indication of something new for them.

And he wears this t-shirt when he says something cheesy about “I will handle everything while I have you” and “Let me be the part of your dream” - the very same dream Sand told him about the very same day.

And it’s just painfully obvious that there is nothing about Mew on the picture anymore. Sand told him “I won’t wait for you” and Ray was like “You don’t need to, I’m already here”. Oh they’ll fuck it up so hard, won’t they?

The comeback. And like that, Ray’s style is back. Because Ray’s clothes don’t tell us story about trying to be someone else, but a story about wanting someone else.

And when he and Mew have this beautiful adult healthy conversation that I love the most we know that Ray is already accepted his choice - the one that Yo knows, and Mew knows, and everyone in this world actually kind of knows. And this is how we know that this painful arc of Ray and Mew being toxic disaster is finally over even before they say anything out loud. Just because Ray wears his style again.

#ofts #only friends the series #only friends #only friends meta #sandray #raymew #what can I say. I’m a sucker for style and unhealthy romance #does it guarantee happy ending? noooo #does it mean their relationship is healthy? noooooo #but yeah

[queerbuckleys]

Is It Gender Play?: A Case Study in Masculine Presentation in Fashion

So first off I want to start by saying that this is about the clothing and it is not about Oliver. These items were chosen by a stylist to serve the aesthetic of ABookOf. He is indirectly involved because he happens to be the one wearing them, his presence does have an effect as this takes on the perspective that he is as far as I know, a cis man. The clothes are the material and in this case he is the canvas– which still has an effect on the artwork at the end but is not manipulated. I am going to be using a feminine, center, masculine approach to this because it’s the best way I can conceptualize this clearly, not because that's how gender and presentation works. Got it? Cool! Let's go! 

ABookOf is a Arts & Culture publication that focuses on storytelling that has a bright and fun aesthetic that is not directly but in the vein of Camp. As a part of their mission statement they state that they strive to highlight “Your brand, your stories, your journey and your talent…through the artistic eyes of our team and collaborators…”  

This ensemble curated by Andrew Philip Nguyen, Fashion Editor of ABookOF, is a look that plays with pattern and masculinity. 

The bold orange shirt that has a slight pattern on it, that is indecipherable at the moment. This appears to be a traditional button up, styled with a red polka dot ribbon. This is what pulls it toward the center in terms of presentation as it evokes that of a traditionally feminine pussy bow blouse while also resembling a traditionally masculine tie. The other styling choice that adds to the mixture is that it is unbuttoned revealing the white undershirt. 

The other attention grabbing piece in this ensemble are the boots. They are a traditionally masculine combat boot style that has been adopted by various “deviant” subcultures aesthetic closet. What pulls attention and them more center is the bright color because bright yellow is not a usual color for shoes, for either end of the spectrum. The height of them is also eye-catching and pulls them into the subversive category as they are taller than the traditional boot and are aligned with subcultures. On a side note I love that they seem to be either Doc Martens or reminiscent of them in their design as a nod to Oliver’s origins, which connects their strive to highlight their interviewee’s story and attention to detail when selecting items for their photoshoots. 

The bracelet is also traditionally masculine, and while jewelry is historically present across all genders, in combination with all the other pieces in this ensemble it adds to the playing toward center and the definitions of masculine fashion that the look is making a statement on. 

The pants are deceivingly simple. Upon first glance they are the least interesting piece in the ensemble but they are one of the grounding pieces of the look. If they were plain black pants, it would all still work, but be far less intriguing. They add yet another pattern and texture to the entire ensemble that creates the Camp aesthetic that ABookOf seems to have curated. 

In a nutshell, each of these items fall into the “traditionally masculine” category when stripped to their bare bones, it is the unique way they are styled and presented that pulls them center. This ensemble is an exploration of masculine presentation that slightly challenges the greater societal expectations of masculine fashion. The boundaries of which have been softening, especially in magazine photo shoots, over the past two or three years. So to answer the simple question of is this Gender Play? No, it is masculine presentation on a masculine body that falls into the family of Camp and breaks societal norms and traditions. 

#idek what this is except the first essay adjacent thing i have written in a year #but this is what i am very passionate about outside of the the weewoo show so *shrug* #and its been a long time since i have had coherent thoughts in this way #so that feels good #come ask me shit about it if you want but if you are mean i will delete it #aj rambles #on steroids #aj talks fashion

[laurelier]

.

#up way too late again bc sleep evades me #and harry is harry skdkfjkfkff i stayed up late enough to see the pics begin to roll in and i was done for ffsddffff #so we’re gonna #tag rant #about the seeming emergence of this fun silhouette thing we got goin on. or: the one where #meg yells about harry styles and his big pants again. #i love the idea of uniformity in his tour fits i kind of hope that sticks around #but i keep looking at pics of him in tonight’s particular outfit and kind of ln’s as well and i’m really really #struck by how conservative they are in terms of coverage. like his chest is out sure (a lil) but those pants are loose as fuck bro. #and how bright and attention grabbing they are in terms of color and pattern #but also so simple and clean like just cream pants lilac shirt. red pants striped shirt. even pink pants pink glittersparkles there's not #many moving parts to the fits they hold attention but they're not busy or chaotic all of which is certainly purposeful tension #and purposeful contrast. it's like. the clothes are loose and substantial enough for people not to focus first on his body #there are peeks of his body that you notice later but the clothes demand attention first they're just like. kind of commanding? there's #so much fabric and they're so richly colored #and they're loud and beautiful enough to invite people talking about them exactly as we are doing and always do #and yet the silhouette is so demure? #it’s like he’s exhibiting the clothes almost. like LOOK WHAT IM WEARING LOOK HOW BEAUTIFULLY MADE LOOK AT THIS FABRIC ITS STUNNING #and of course he's wanting us to look at him not just the clothes right he's harr after all but idk something about these outfits #suggests to me a desire to be looked at more softly. and ofc not to speak for him never to speak for him but it #almost seems like he's trying to get us to see *him* dancing and glittering in the clothes before we see the body that's wearing them. #and i don't feel like it's the first time he's asked for that through clothes either #and not to like. i don't want to project too much of my own shit onto harry here but. #keeping the same silhouette with shifting colors and also having that silhouette be basic and simple and high coverage #feels like a move i’d make if i wanted people to focus on me in place of *~**me~~** the fabricated outer shell version and well #at least to me that feels really congruent with certain lyric changes and the way he seems to just. want to be known. #not consumed through sight and visibility but known. #OR MAYBE I'MJUST TALKING ABOUT ME AGAIN skdfjksjfkjsd who the fuck knows #tw body image

[iceeckos12]

and he sees dawn before the rest of the world

or: a fucked up little au of 200. intended to be unsettling so just be warned warnings for: unreality (i think that’s the appropriate term? please lmk if not), implied self harm, fucked up relationship dynamics; lmk if i should tag anything else

Bzzzt! Bzzzt! Bzzzt!

“Ugh, five more minutes,” Martin hissed, throwing an arm across his face, as though he could stop the barrage of sound just by covering his eyes. His alarm was unsympathetic to his whinging, continuing to scream its daily mourning dirge, grieving the end of another period of blessed rest. “Fine, fine! I’m getting up, christ…”

He reached clumsily for the phone on his bedside table, only for his fingers to scrabble uselessly around the ghost of its presence. He was momentarily so stymied by the absence that it took him longer than it should’ve to remember that he’d moved it to his desk, to prevent him from giving into the temptation to hit the snooze button just one more time.

Letting out another slew of curses, Martin shuffled onto his other side and reached for

A jaw-cracking yawn near split Martin’s face in two as he hunched over the gleaming tea kettle, steam beginning to pour from the spout. He shuffled his feet, eyes meandering sightlessly over the cow-shaped mug drying on the counter, the cluster of crumbs that he must’ve missed when cleaning up after dinner last night.

He hated mornings. Maybe it was the preemptive dread he felt at the thought of going to work; maybe it was because he hated having to be upright this early in the morning. Either way, he felt strangely disconnected from his morning routine, each motion carried out with habitual, distant efficiency as his thoughts raced along like a hamster on a wheel just below the surface.

It...was a bit silly for him to be worried about work, though. The stuff he was doing was interesting, and he had the loveliest coworkers a guy could ask for. They’d even offered to teach him a thing or two about artifact restoration once they learned the truth about his CV.

He drew himself up to his full height and rolled his shoulders back, clouded sigh mingling with the fog from the boiling water. Things were going well. Hell, he was actually going to get top surgery sometime in the next year or so, which was amazing considering his teenage self would’ve laughed at the very idea of being out.

There was no reason to dread going to work.

Martin carefully poured the water into the mug, letting the tea steep before adding a splash of milk and sugar. When he picked the mug up, the heat from the tea had bled into the ceramic, so warm as to be uncomfortable against the delicate skin of his palms. He didn’t let go, just kept on gripping the mug, like trying to contain the last gasp of a dying star.

Martin stared around his kitchen. The waterstains on the inside of the cow mug slowly evaporating into the still air; the crumbs that had sat there for who knows how long. The empty, blank face of his fridge.

Martin lifted the mug, and steam collected on his glasses as his breath wafted over the surface of the tea. He drew away, waiting for the lenses to clear, before leaning in for another sip.

His reflection stared back at him, a monochrome facsimile of his face rimmed in white smoke, and he recoiled, the mug slipping from

Working nine to five, what a way to make a living…

Martin stared out the window, his hand pillowed in the palm of his hand as Dolly Parton crooned in his ears. Split second by split second, he let his eyes catch on a point in the darkened surroundings, only letting his vision blur into incoherence when that fixed point whipped out of sight. It was a game he sometimes played when he got bored of reading or playing cards on his phone.

The old woman across from him let out a quiet grunt and shuffled, drawing his attention back inside the train. She was a gnarled old thing, bowed by the gravity of grief and time and life, though Martin couldn’t say for certain whether it was one well-lived.

Barely getting by, it’s all taking and no giving...

That was the thing about people watching: Martin was never quite sure if it was disrespectful to make assumptions about a person’s life based on a passing glimpse. He could never be sure if the person with the grumpy expression had a foul attitude, or if they were just a kind person on the tail-end of a truly awful day.

The old woman was knitting though, and Martin generally found it safe to assume that knitters were nice people.

For a moment he thought about taking out his headphones and striking up a conversation; the pattern looked devilishly complicated, and as a beginning knitter, he always appreciated tips. There was an unfinished set of fingerless green gloves in the back of his closet; it was easy for hands to get cold in the Archives, and the color suited

“Alright, Martin?”

Martin startled, his pen clattering to the floor. He looked up to find Sasha perched on the edge of his desk, grinning like the cat who’d just eaten the canary. Or, he thought she was. His eyes kept skittering from one corner of her face to the other, like a smooth stone skipping across a lake.

“Uh…” Frowning slightly, he let his gaze travel over the shelves of books, the humming lights, his cluttered workstation. He removed his glasses so he could rub at his aching eyes, and let out a deep sigh. Probably just the stress. “Yeah—yeah! Sorry, I’ve been distracted all morning.”

Martin got the impression of Sasha’s grin being tempered with genuine concern. “I’m sorry to hear that. Is everything okay?”

“I think so. Just...work, and my mum…” he gave an expansive you know sort of gesture at life in general. “Thank god the weekend’s coming. Anyway, is there something I can help you with?”

“Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to come get drinks with Mel and Tim and I after work, but…” She cut him a meaningful glance, the bottomless holes where her eyes should be boring bright spotlights into the back of his skull. “We’d understand if you’re not feeling up to it.”

“Is Georgie coming?”

Sasha shrugged. “Probably. Mel didn’t say so, but they’ve been all over each other since they started dating.”

Martin laughed. “True.” Tried to gauge how he was feeling, whether or not he was up to a night of socializing. You should go, a strangely posh little voice murmured in the back of his head, and he found himself saying, “Actually yeah, I would like to come. I could use a night out.”

Sasha clapped him on the shoulder, and the impact rattled through him like a gong being struck. The echoes of it vibrated all the way down to his toes. “Excellent.”

Martin hesitated, and then, not entirely sure of what he was asking, “What about J

“Thanks for waiting with us,” Georgie said, smiling beatifically up at him. Passed out on her shoulder, Melanie let out a drunken snuffle and curled over, like she was thinking of climbing through the spaces of Georgie’s ribcage and sleeping in her chest cavity forever.

“Not a problem,” Martin replied, scratching the back of his neck.

To be honest, waiting with her was as much for his benefit as theirs. At first, he’d thought it was just stress; now, he was very sure that something was wrong. It wasn’t anything specific, or even bad; more like there was a sepia camera filter tinting the world dusty and nostalgic.

After his third drink, he’d looked into Tim’s laughing face and thought he might burst into tears. And he still didn’t know what Sasha was supposed to look like.

But he didn’t want to worry her, so he just bit his lip and rocked back and forth on his heels, even though the motion made his head spin that much worse.

(Maybe he needed to take a couple of days off. Have a lie-in. But that would—that would delay his work. The Institute’s work. Delays were bad; he felt strongly enough about that to carve it directly into his skin so that he’d never forget. He could roll down his sleeve and take a peek at it whenever his motivation slipped, like checking a watch for the time.)

For lack of anything else to say, he nodded toward Melanie. “She’s really out, huh?”

“She’s always been a lightweight.” Her tone was wry, but her eyes were soft and fond as she brushed Melanie’s bangs back from her face. “Never gets hungover though, the lucky bastard.”

“The nerve!” Martin said, affecting offense, which sent them right into another giggling fit.

Once he got his breath back, Martin mentioned offhand, “You know, considering how similar they are, I’m surprised that her and J̷̧̱̜͕͕̤͉̣̺̺̝͖̠̹̜͙̣͉̩̺̤̟͉͓̞̹̗́̆̂̋͆̊̎́͂̑͋̌͊͘̚͠ͅo̶̧̨͕̖͔̬̖̝̪͚̻̟̠̜̣̰̅n̶̥̉́̎͑̀͂͆̿̾͛̾̔̐͌́̅̂͂̒̆̐́͊̄̾̍̅̅͝

“Stop it!” Martin screamed, grabbing the mug from the counter and throwing it across the room. It shattered against the wall, scattering shards of ceramic across the floor. “I know

“What you’re doing,” Martin gripped the bathroom counter, ignoring the persistent ringing of his alarm, staring deeply into his reflection, “Stop it, stop it, nononon̴̡̡͚̮̠͙̻͔͎͈̜̓̈́̈́͜͜ͅǫ̸̯̠̱̖̲͙͍͎͒̇̑͒ṅ̶̨̩̳̩̝̹̳͎͈̬̦͆́̈́́͐̏̈́̕͝͝o̸̡̻̱̗̥̮̙̳̞͗̄͋̈́̀͝n̸̢̛̟͙̘̱̩͕̦̫̤̮͆͑̊͋́̂̽͜o̶̘̱̗̘̘͑̿͜ņ̶̥̞̠͕͓̠͔͚̮͈̬͕̀͗̄̓͑͑͛̕ͅő̸̮̫̓͌̾̌͋́̂̏̒̃̃̄̚n̵̗̫͕̺̻͔̭͖̉͒͗̀̈́̃̅o̴͓͉͉͗͋̎̕—”

“Shhh, it’s okay. I’m sorry, it’s okay—”

“No!” Martin shrieked, shoving Jon’s hands away, skittering backward across the broken and cracked stones of the Panopticon. Through the arched windows, the sky was a poisonous green and black, and multitudes of eyes orbited the room, watched his every movement with sickening fascination. “Just—stop.”

Luminous gaze weary and resigned, Jon did as he was bid, dropping back onto his heels.

Rubbing sweat and grime and tears from his face, breathing harshly through his mouth, Martin took a moment to remember where he was, why he was here. It always took a moment for everything to come back.

As though unable to keep silent any longer, Jon asked, “So what was it this time?”

“Don’t,” Martin hissed, dragging his hands through his greasy hair.

Though his expression went mulishly annoyed, Jon raised his hands placatingly, a silent, alright, you win. It was a familiar gesture, one that he’d done so many times while they were living in Scotland, while they were traveling the devastated landscape of the apocalypse. It made Martin ache for when things were simpler, when his heart didn’t just feel like one big bruise.

He gently set the thought aside, and turned a more assessing eye on the Panopticon. Normally the changes were insignificant, but something thick and red and black had started to coil around the windows, weaving in and out of the floor, cracking the stonework. Martin traced the strange things with his eyes, frowning—

“Christ, Jon,” he whispered in horrified realization. “Are...are those corpse roots?”

Jon bobbed his head. “They’ve long since overtaken the rest of London. It’s just us, now.”

Martin sucked in a long, frustrated breath through his teeth. There was no point trying to talk any sense into Jon, not after so long, and force would only result in immediately getting kicked back into that horrible dream world.

“And the others?”

Jon shrugged, tracing the cracks in the earth with his fingers. “Still alive, and living happily in the dream I made for them.” He didn’t say, unlike you, but the implication was so loud he might as well have screamed it.

“Shut up,” Martin muttered, pushing to his feet and limping to one of the windows.

Corpse roots, as far as the eye could see. They covered the city of London in a blanket of tangled black, so thick that it was impossible to see the buildings beneath.

“Was it worth it?” he asked, sagging against the side of the window, too tired to be angry.

When the silence persisted a second too long, Martin turned around to find Jon with his head tilted back, examining the corpse roots consuming what had once been the Beholding’s seat of power, expression distant and thoughtful. The eyes, ever-watching, never understanding, drifted closer, greedily drinking in the sight.

When Martin realized that Jon wasn’t planning on answering, he let out another sigh, ruffled his bangs away from his face, and said, “You’re never there.”

Jon’s gaze snapped to him with a laser-edged focus. “Sorry?”

“If you’re going to trap me in a dream,” Martin said, each syllable clipped and precise, “You could at least be there.”

Like it always did, Jon’s face crumpled, and he looked away. “...I don’t deserve it.”

“Oh, we’re well past that and you know it!” Martin shrieked, striking his fist against the stone. “You made your fucking decision to damn the world, to hell with whatever we thought, the least you could do is stop hiding behind your pointless guilt and act like this is what you actually want!”

It would’ve been better, if Jon had simply become drunk with power and was no longer listening to reason. The fact that he’d made this same decision every single day with clear, unclouded eyes and sound judgement—as Jon the human, rather than Jon the lynchpin of the apocalypse, pupil of the Eye—made Martin want to scream.

“I do want it!” Jon snapped back, then quieter, “I do.” He looked up at the corpse roots again, eyes going misty. “I just—I should witness every second of misery and pain that I’m causing. I don’t deserve to just...forget.”

Wind snapped and howled around them like a creature mad with rage, and Martin idly wondered what would happen to this world once Jon died. If it would all go back to the way it had been before, or if the shell of the apocalypse would remain until the end of time, a corpse husk of a reality warped beyond repair.

“You shouldn’t have to experience this alongside me though,” Jon continued, rallying. “So I would really appreciate it if you’d stop breaking your dreams.”

“Tough,” Martin snapped back, folding his arms obstinately over his chest.

“You could be happy!” Jon reiterated, stabbing his index finger into the palm of his hand. “You could just...live your life! Forget! There’s no point in being here.”

“It’s a deal, remember? Where you go, I go. Fuck you very much, but I don’t break my promises.”

Jon stared at him for one beat, then another—and then promptly burst out laughing, his whole body shaking with the force of it. Martin stared at him, utterly bewildered, as the laughing slowly began to dissolve into desperate, heaving sobs, as he began rocking back and forth, arms wrapped around himself in a mockery of comfort.

“I miss you,” Jon gasped out, half-crazed. “So much. I miss you every day even though you’re right in front of me. But I can’t go to you, because I don’t deserve to, not when I’m the one who trapped you here. I’m everything that’s wrong with the world. I always have been.”

“Jon,” Martin sighed, low and tired.

Jon buried his face into his knees. “No, you shouldn’t—you shouldn’t forgive me just because you pity me, that’s not what I—I don’t—”

“Who said anything about forgiveness?” Martin shook his head. “Fine. You’re an asshole, and I hate you. But it’s like I said.” He gestured toward the Panopticon, the roots, the poisonous sky. “When has deserving ever mattered?”

Jon lifted his face from his knees, though his gaze stayed rooted to the floor. “...I suppose.”

“Right,” Martin agreed. “I’ve accepted that you’re not going to change your mind, but...at the very least, I don’t want to die alone. So can you please just…”

There was a long, weighted pause.

They’d had arguments like this what felt like hundreds of times before. Martin begging for Jon to change his mind, Jon refusing with that same resigned, determined expression on his face, before sending Martin back into his dreams.

Maybe it was because Martin wasn’t asking him to change his mind this time. Maybe it was because they were so close to the end of all things, and soon they’d be the last two people on earth. Maybe it was because Jon was tired, had been for so, so long, and he had won anyway, so there was no point in fighting any longer.

“Alright,” Jon whispered.

…

…

...

Bzzzt! Bzzzt! Bzzzt!

“Ugh, five more minutes,” Martin hissed, throwing an arm across his face.

Somewhere in the far distance, the toilet flushed. A moment later, a pair of feet padded lightly into the room, hesitated at the edge of the bed, and then made their way over to the desk. The alarm abruptly went silent.

Martin uncovered his eyes and grinned up at Jon as he tentatively slid back between the covers, every movement careful and deliberate, like he was reading stage directions from a script.

“Look at Mr. Workaholic, having a lie-in,” Martin teased, pulling Jon into his arms and inhaling the scent of his coconut shampoo. “Must be the end of the world, or something.”

Jon stiffened for just a moment, before turning around and burying his face into Martin’s chest. “Or something.”

#iceeckos12 writes #my writing #tma #jonmartin but make it especially tragedy flavored

[captain-emmajones]

love languages

Here is my contribution for CSJJ. Big thanks to @csjanuaryjoy​ for organizing this, to the CSJJ discourse server and its wonderful ladies, to @carpedzem​ for cheering me on always and to @profdanglaisstuff​ for beta'ing this <3

Post 4x11. During the six weeks of peace. It all starts with Mary Margaret reading a stupid article about love languages at breakfast, and before she knows it, Emma finds herself asking Hook his as they are stargazing by the docks.

Canon Compliant -- Fluff -- Banter -- Missing Scene -- Ao3 -- 1,5k words.

A veil of mist hangs low in this January night sky; it dances around a crescent moon wreathed in a halo of silver light. The moon is peering at the scene, down below, by Storybrooke’s harbour.

And what a scene, my dear...

Two figures dressed in warm clothes are sitting on a bench, wrapped up in one of those large checkered blankets that they share; the taller one seems resolute on examining the stars in the night sky, brows furrowed in a focused expression and fingers clenched around a spyglass.

That is quite unfortunate, thinks the moon, for the clouds are impish that night and stubbornly hide their secrets. His companion sits cross-legged at his side, one hand cupping her chin, eyes set on the man’s silhouette and the moon wonders what could possibly be so interesting on this man’s face for the woman not to look up at her.

There is a shift then, in the woman’s composure, and the moon sees one gentle hand grab the man’s arm as a cloud of white smoke escapes her lips.

The moon winces; she knows the silence is about to be shattered.

“Hey, what’s your love language?”

This stupid question has been on the tip of Emma’s tongue all day, tingling and burning, and Mary Margaret and the article she read aloud at breakfast are entirely to blame for it.

Emma is lucky that the rum they drank at dinner with her parents is still coloring their cheeks red, and that a flame seems to be licking up her throat, because it is a delicious burn and saves her the embarrassment.

“Sorry. Say that again, Swan?”

He does not turn around. As something mischievous stands up in Emma’s chest and pouts, Emma wants to groan that there will be no stars to be seen tonight. How dare he not pay attention to her when she let herself be lured by his talks of “star-gazing”?

Instead, she admires the hint of red coloring the apple of his cheeks and the wisps of breath he exhales calmly through his nose.

“I mean, what makes you feel loved?” she asks again, and she tries to sound more annoyed than she actually is.

Which is, actually, not at all, but he most absolutely does not need to know that.  

The expected result occurs as he swiftly shifts to gaze at her, his blue eyes flashing in the dimness, and that sinful tongue licks a pattern across his lips.

“Swan, are you drunk?” he teases, smirking a bit, but with a lot of tenderness.

She chuckles as he clicks his telescope shut without breaking their gaze.

Her legs do feel heavy as lead, and her head deceptively light as a cloud, but that she won’t tell him, not on any account.

“Am not.” And if Emma’s head lolls to his side, terribly tempted by his welcoming shoulders, it must be because of gravity or something.

But she does not cave in, and she raises her eyes to see his entire face crinkling up in a delightful, devilish way and Emma wishes she could kiss each little spot of skin the moon dabbles light on.

“Yes, you are. Should have watched you and Mary Margaret’s cocktails.”

While Emma does think there is something to be said about her mother’s cocktails, she still rolls her eyes and frowns, even as stubborn laughter keeps bubbling up inside her throat and is making it difficult to keep a straight face. “Just answer the question!” And her fist gently bumps against his shoulder for good measure.

He dramatically sighs next to her, one eyebrow quirking up in that peculiar way that makes her toes curl, and she hates him for it but she also wishes that he may never stop.

“...What was the question again?”

She exhales a groan of discontent. “Killian!”

“Emma?”

Another groan. He will be the death of hers. “Your love language! What is it?”

“My love language, you ask? Well, mmmh, let me think.” And as he pretends to ponder, tapping his fingers against his red, red lips, tap, tap, tap, Emma finds herself leaning towards him, against her will, magnetized.

But she catches herself and proceeds to frown harder, hand closing around the cold wooden bench instead of the lapel of his coat. They are trying to have a conversation, for fuck’s sake.

He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, and Emma blinks because she cannot stop looking at his mouth.

“Ah. But Swan, we have a problem.”

“Do we?”

His lips, over hers, now. Forever, preferably. The delicate shadow dropped by his eyelashes onto his cheekbones is infuriating.

“Yes. As a matter of fact, although I am familiar with many languages, I’ve never heard of that love language theory of yours.”

It’s a miracle she hears anything he’s saying.

“It’s not my theory,” she mumbles right back, and she can tell by the lovely, lovely sparkles in his blue eyes that it is exactly the reaction he wanted out of her.

“Care to explain it either way?”

She thinks she shakes her head then. He is annoying. This is far more than she ever signed up for. She just wanted to tease him, and now she is the one being teased. Truly a terrible turn of events. That doesn’t mean she can control the smile that tickles her lips.

“Well,” she clears her throat, straightens her back, tries to appear very serious, “there are five traditional love languages.”

“Yes,” he encourages her, smiling widely, “I’m all ears, Swan.”

Her cheeks hurt from all of the smiling. It’s okay. He and his stupid big blue eyes are worth it.

“Well, first, there are words of affirmation, like a loved one telling you they are proud of you or that they lo--...you know what I’m saying.”

I’m a fan of every part of you, Swan.

And the thing is, she hears herself utter the words, and she does think that she does not sound like herself at all -- talking about love languages with Captain Hook -- but also Killian and she have been dating for the last couple of months now and this isn’t like anything she’s ever done before and maybe it isn’t so bad.

“Interesting. Do go on.”

In fact, it cannot even be remotely bad when he keeps staring at her like this, as if she is really precious and important and he cares or something.

“Then there’s quality time, like feeling loved when you’ve spent a precious and unique moment with a loved one.”

Right now, we have a quiet moment.

“Mmm, I see.”

“And then there are acts of service, and that goes without explanation.”

I knew Bae as a boy. Perhaps I could talk to the boy. It would help him come to terms with his father’s passing. And me.

“Fair enough.”

“Then there are gifts, of course --”

“Like the rose I offered you on our first date?”

“-- like the rose you offered me on our first date --,” she repeats. Before a bucket of cold water is spilled on top of her head as she realizes what he’s just said and what she’s just agreed with.

It’s a good thing the street light above their head is doing a poor flickering job because by the time Emma has pondered her own words and has reflected on how naturally Killian said that last line, well, she’s flushed a bright red.

He doesn’t mean that he, that they, that she...does he?

An alarm rings inside Emma’s head. Beware! Slippery slope of feelings ahead!

And instead of thinking one second more about this, Emma heaves a quiet breath, blinks, and exhales sharply: “-- yeah and the like.” As she looks up, she notices Killian’s smug grin.  

And something very soft, in his eyes, something very soft and terrifying.

“What’s the last one?” he asks in a husky whisper as swirls of white vapor escape his mouth to kiss Emma’s lips.

She gulps. Exhales. “Physical touch.”

By the time she says the words, he is hovering dangerously close to her, and his hand is slipping into her hair, curling around the base of her neck, and the tingles it diffuses all over her skin are simply illegal.

“Like that?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

She nods, lips tight, unable to breathe. What is he doing to her?

“Like that, yeah.” And if her voice is hoarse, the ocean breeze isn’t the only one to blame.

His fingers slowly abandon her hair to find her lips, and he presses them, gently, above her open mouth and Emma’s hands have found his arms without her consent.

And just as he dives towards her, heart pounding, courage roars inside of her and she dares ask once again: “So?”

It makes him stop, gaze seriously at her, eyes open wide. She swallows again.

“So, what?” he answers, and he almost sounds angry.

The lust she sees dancing in his eyes tightens each of her muscles.

“What’s your love language?” she repeats, bites her lower lip.

She isn’t flinching. She started this. She wants to win.

He smiles, fingers caressing down her neck to find her collarbone, and although she shudders she feels victory stretch her lips.

“I’m a pirate, love. I don’t choose between treasures. I take them all.”

As if to seal his words, his mouth hungrily finds hers, and he drinks her breath, and Emma lets herself be defeated in her heart only, but surely not aloud.

#cs ff #cs fanfics #captain swan #csjj 2021 #csjj2021 #my stuff #i hope i'm tagging this right please come scream at me if it isn't @the mods #cs january joy

[hallowedmuses]

𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑡: 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟 𝑝𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟

SUMMARY: Our ragtag team of heroes including Natasha Romanoff, Daniel Sousa, Clint Barton, Loki Laufeyson, Veronica Stevens, and Deke come together to rescue Director Daisy Johnson from the clutches of Lucia von Bardas. TRIGGERS: Torture, Violence, PTSD, Trauma WRITTEN WITH: @ofbartons, @oflokismischief, @ofdcniels, @daisyljohnson, @ronniestvns, @oflemcns

CLINT: when loki woke him up for the rescue mission, clint wasted no time. he threw on the first shirt he could find, which luckily was clean, and his shoes before literally tumbling out the door with his bow in hand. his fuzzy pizza-sliced patterned pajama pants wasn't the most tactical choice, but then again neither was his bright purple t-shirt and converse. once they'd arrived at the hellicarrier, clint took out the guards on a section of the deck before firing a bomb arrow at the wall to create a point of entry for 'tasha and the dude in the blue shirt. "i will admit, being subtle might have been the smarter play here." he chuckled over the comms while firing a trio of arrows. the explosion had two purposes in his head- one, the point of entry, and two, draw attention away from daisy's rescue duo. the second purpose was just working a little better than he'd thought it would. he slid across the deck, firing off a couple more arrows before standing up and kicking one of the guards in the chest. using the controls on the handle of his bow, he switched to a smoke arrow before aiming at a group of the guards "hey lo, i'm really glad you have the cape still." keeping the arrow drawn back, clint turned his head to look at his boyfriend "otherwise i'd be too distracted by that ass of yours." he winked and let the arrow loose, still looking in loki's direction "not to mention all these schmucks would be staring at it." he switched back to regular arrows before firing into the smoke.

LOKI: Loki should've known Clint would be far from ready when it was time to lead the mission, it had been quite awhile since he'd gone into battle but then again he did quite love the hunt when it came down too it. His mission was simply and if anything he could easily take out anything humans could throw at him. "Possibly but then again we have quite the army of people who have been missing out dear Director and I'd burn the place down if she wasn't in there." He mused throwing iced daggers at all who dared come near. For those who got to close they were met with his quick stabs and his illusions. when he heard his boyfriend speak chuckling softly "Its all about fashion darling, Those little SHIELD outfits do nothing for my figure" He mused back looking at Clint he always found his Archery skills rather attractive before he rolled his eyes "as for my ass I'm sure I can other wise to distract you, maybe flirt with a villain or two and see how much of your spy skills come out to play, after all Green is quite your color my hawk"

NATASHA: "Subtilty was never your strong suit, but I do appreciate the flare. The pajamas make it easier to find you too," she laughed as Clint shot a few explosive arrows to give herself and Daniel an entry point into the helicarrier. As Clint, Loki, and Ronnie guided Lucia's guards away from the entry point, Natasha and Daniel made their way in. Natasha fired off a few taser disks, hitting the oncoming guards squarely in the chest. She watched them fall to the floor, convulsing as electric shocks ran through their body. As the guards fought to peel the taser disks off of themselves, Natasha made her way through the hallway. She ducked as a few rounds of bullets came flying at her and Daniel. She grabbed him and pulled him toward the wall for cover. Natasha used the wall to shield herself as she fired at the oncoming guards. "Ronnie, have you located the room where Daisy's being held captive?" They could aimlessly fire rounds all day, but they needed to know what direction to go. She made a face as she heard bits and pieces of Clint and Loki's conversation over coms. "Honestly," she frowned and looked over at Daniel. "I can't even be mad. I did this to myself inviting those two along."

RONNIE: “Yea... I’m working.. on it.” Veronica breathlessly remarked over the coms. A few grunts could be heard as she flipped the guard she’d been tangled up with and stabbed him with one of poison daggers.  “Now where were we.. a yess.. here we go.” Ronnie grabbed her data pad, ducking down behind a bolder as she took control of the building. “I’m in, I’ve got eyes on Daisy.. She’s alive..” Ronnie neglected to add how bad she looked from the live feed she was getting on their shitty surveillance system. “She’s on the fourth floor, third door to the right. Give me thirty seconds, I’m disabling the alarms and lock mechanisms now. I’m about to fry the fuck out of their systems and equipment. Can’t promise I won’t blow the lights.. hope you brought flares.” Ronnie playfully teased, falling forward as a couple of guards began to fire at her out of no where. “Hey lover boys! As uncute as it is listening to you flirt endlessly while taking out guards, I could use some help over here! Cover me while I shut down their main line.” She made a mental note to switch them over to their own channel when she was finished here.

DANIEL: while this wasn't the strangest mission he'd ever been on, that title probably had to go to the whitney frost case, this had to be the most chaotic and strange team daniel had been apart of. you had not one but two super spies (one of which was in pajamas and using a bow and arrow of all things), a tech genius, a god (or were they an alien? daniel was a little fuzzy on that particular detail), and deke... at least most of them seemed to know what they were doing. daniel ducked down when agent romanoff pulled him out of the line of fire "thanks." he waited for the shooting to stop, meaning the men were reloading, and once they did he leaned out at shot the men. keeping low he moved towards the door to the stairwell one he heard daisy's location. daniel couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him at the couple's banter "compared to the things i've heard howard utter, this is nothing."

DEKE: In the past, when Deke had thought about his 'next cool mission' this had hardly been the thing in his mind. Not Arrow-Guy in his pajamas, not working with someone who practically a God, Black Widow herself or well, any of them. Certainly not Daisy being in danger like this... But still, he was nothing if not adaptable. So adapt he did. Rescue Daisy now, rankle his mind about all these events later. There was something pretty calming about the group of them being so casual and prepared (though he still felt a spike of fear at every loud noise, the many of them). He was working with the best, Deke reminded himself. He'd gotten the Hyperbaric Chamber ready to go for Daisy upon their return, nervously awaiting. In one of his more anxious moments  he'd thought about preparing food for Daisy before remembering he wouldn't know how long she'd be in there for. So, with the chamber up and waiting, Deke listened on the comms and waited. "How's it looking? It sounds pretty crowded." Crowded, being the word for all the many enemies they seemed to be facing (and taking down). "You guys doing okay?" He was fairly sure they were but it didn't hurt to ask.

DAISY: Daisy had been living in a fantasy world, but it could only last so long before she eventually had to wake up. Wake up was a relative term. It didn't mean she was entirely awake and aware, more so that she had to wake to the reality of her situation, that there were no happy endings, that she couldn't get what she wanted, that actions had consequences, and even when you thought you won, it could come back to bite you in the ass. In the time that it had taken everyone to track down her kidnappers, Daisy had been put through several different forms of torture. Lucia had even been so kind as to grace her with her presence, reminding Daisy of what she'd done to the woman and how everything she was going through now was her own fault. Daisy could give her that much. Daisy had done her fair share of awful things, even if she hadn't been entirely in control of her own actions at the time. Nick Fury Sr. had made sure of that. It seemed that even after she'd taken things over from him, he still managed to screw up her life, but in the end she wasn't really surprised by any of this.

Currently, she didn't know where Lucia was, and she was just surrounded by guards who had all made sure not to listen to a word she said. Still, that didn't mean she wouldn't try. Her ears were ringing, but she could still feel some kind of activity on the ship. She spat out blood. "Sounds like . . . you've got company," she taunted, her voice raspy and barely carrying out to them. Her breathing was shaky and uneven. "You might . . . wanna go deal with that." They ignored her, saying nothing.

CLINT: clint had been in a lot of sticky situations before, but this wasn't one of them... if anything he was like a greased up hog running from the farmers trying to catch him, which might be a little dangerous for him. bad things tended to happen to him when he got too confident, but at least both loki and 'tasha were here to keep him from dying. he was about to fire off an arrow when a guard came up on his left, so he turned and stabbed the arrow into the guy's eye "oooh... i hope your insurance includes vision." clint quipped as he fired another set of arrows into the group. "aww, don't be like that lady. you know that my husband and i are cute as fuck." he winked at her as he ran by, headed towards loki... not because he needed the back up but purely because clint wanted to get another look at loki. his look was different from the last time clint had seen him in his battle gear and the blonde had to admit it was a damn fine look. "hey handsome! you come here often?"

LOKI: Loki had enjoyed the thrill of field work, it had been such a long time since he'd been able to use his daggers and magic against an actual threat. The best part was having Clint fight side by side him, before they'd been on opposite sides of a war, never sharing more the small glances. He fought with a passion ensuring they would clear a spot to bring Daisy home, there was no way he was leaving without her even if it cost every single on of these humans lives. "Did you really just say that Clint?" He questioned chuckling softy as he quickly disarmed three more guys pinning them down with a couple of his daggers. "We actually are, plus you are the driving force that brought us together in life and on this mission. The blame is fully on your shoulders Nat darling." He teased the other as he noticed his lover coming towards him. He could easily see that glint in his eye whenever Clint saw Loki in his more regal clothes, though now he'd donned on his Asgardian wear leaving that as his go too field work outfit. He turned to reply to Clint before throwing a dagger right into the bad guy who'd tried to take Clint by surprise. "Depends on who's asking, and if they are going to buy me dinner first," He mused winking at Clint.

NATASHA: Natasha had learned long ago to tune out the chatter of the coms. She kept her volume low so she could focus on their current situation. If shit hit the fan outside, she trusted her team to be able to handle it. "Ah, Howard Stark. If working with him is anything like working with his son, I'd pass on the opportunity," she joked. Tony wasn't so bad...in small dosages anyway. The lights on their side of the helicarrier flickered before going out completely. In the next moment, Natasha and Daniel were bathed in an eerie red light. Ronnie must've knocked out the security system. Only the emergency lights were operational now. "Fourth floor, third door," Natasha nodded as they slipped into the stairwell. She heard heavy boots above them. Reinforcements were coming through. "Five pairs of boots," she whispered to Daniel as she ducked behind one of the spirals. As the sound of boots came closer, Natasha shot a taser disk at the first guard. He convulsed and fell forward, tumbling down the stairs. He was wearing the same mask Natasha saw in her memories. The widow jumped out from behind one of the spirals and landed a kick square in the chest of one of the guards. He fell forward and took a third guard down with him. Three out of five. Not bad. She turned to take down the other two, but it appeared Blue Shirt was already disengaging them. She would have to share the body cam footage from her stealth suit with Daisy later. That was sure to lift her spirits.

RONNIE: “Nice one Nat.” Ronnie mused as she watched Nat take out three guards at once, followed by Daniel knocking out a couple more. “You kids make a good team. Daisy’s gonna be so proud.” She snickered into her earpiece. She’d muted Loki and Clint’s come but kept an eyes on everyone’s body cams in case the lover boys got into trouble. She loved them dearly, but their banter was brining her lunch back up.  “They’ve got her surrounded.. ten.. maybe fifteen guys.. the footage is shit.. but I’m trying.. ” Ronnie relayed, watching the room she was being held in like a hawk. “She’s saying something to them but no ones budging... hold on..” a few clips to enhance the audio and suddenly Ronnie was sporting a shit eating grin. “I knows we’re here. Hang on, Director.. we’re coming for you.”  

DANIEL: hearing that they had eyes on daisy made him feel a little better but he wouldn't feel settled until she was out of here completely. after kicking the fifth guard in the chest, with his bionic leg for good measure, he turned towards natasha to see if she needed help "ten to fifteen? i think we can handle that." daniel smirked before reloading his guns "so how do you want to do this?" he peeked around the corner seeing that there were no guards outside the room but daniel knew all hell would break loose once they went in.

DEKE: He listened intently to the communications, hoping to hear word of Daisy's safety and prepare the Hyperbaric Chamber for her. Well, it was mostly prepared. It'd really be him opening the thing, then everything was smooth sailing. That is, if her injuries could be healed by it... Which they should. Unless she literally lost a limb or died she should be fine. She would be fine. He heard the ruckus over the comms and felt his heart swell with fear. "Any eyes on Daisy yet?" He asked desperately. Then he heard it. They found Daisy. "Is she okay?!" He asked over the coms, without much hope of getting an answer. They had other things keeping them busy, after all. So he continued waiting anxiously.

DAISY: As the fighting outside continued, the guards around Daisy got more anxious. They could hear on their comms that they weren't exactly winning this fight. "Let's just get rid of the dead weight," said one of the guards. "I doubt Lucia wants this one alive anyways."

"Did you hear her say that or are you just assuming shit again?" asked the other guard. "You know what she'll do if we go against her orders."

"Screw her orders. That's the fucking Avengers out there. If Lucia wants her alive, we can just blame her death on the Avengers, say they didn't give us any choice. Hell, we can say she attacked us." He pulled the tubes that had been connected to Daisy out, but there were still drugs in her system. She couldn't do much. She could barely move. He pulled her up by her hair, shoving a gun against her skull. "You're going to get them to stand down, or you're going to die.

"Guess. . ." Daisy choked on her words. It was hard to focus on her words, when she was focused on something else. "Guess I'll die then." Her shoulders moved up slightly in a shrug. She wasn't actually expecting to die now. She imagined Natasha was probably leading this charge, and these guards didn't stand a chance against her. If Daisy could just move her fingers a little more, she could help Natasha too. There. A small tremor shot out from her fingertips, and the door to the room slammed open. The guard still had a gun to Daisy's head, but Natasha would be here in 5...4...3...2...1... //

NATASHA: "Thanks, Ronnie," she replied when Ronnie relayed the message about what was waiting for them up ahead. "I dunno, Danny Boy," she smirked up at him. "I seem to be carrying all the weight here," she elbowed him gently. "Pick up the slack or I'm gonna leave you behind and save your girl myself. Maybe I'll steal the kiss right from under you too." Natasha glanced down at her utility belt to see what supplies she still had left. "I still have a few taser disks left. That should be enough to shock the oncoming guards. The rest we can take down the good old fashion way." And with that she heard the door to the room where Daisy was being held slam open. "Good girl," Nat grinned. Daisy was a fighter till the end. "Come on, Daniel. Let's work for a living." Natasha sprinted into the room full force. It didn't take long to make an assessment of the danger. She threw the first taser disk at the man who'd had a gun to Daisy's head. He dropped the weapon and began to convulse on the floor. Natasha threw the remaining disks that she had at the next few guards that tried to come at her. She used the momentum of their falling bodies to take down a couple more men. She was really hoping this would be the last of them.

DANIEL: the male let out a quiet huff at the update from ronnie "quack right?" he raised a brow before rolling his shoulders "to be fair, you are enhanced." daniel joked. he looked calm on the outside but internally he was worried about his girl... if that's still what she was. plenty of time had passed for her and daisy was probably given many opportunities to move on from some square she only knew for a short time... he wouldn't blame her in the slightest. nodding he followed after natasha, downing guards with his guns before exchanging blows with a couple. he dropped to the ground and knocked the legs out from under one before moving towards daisy his heart nearly breaking at the state she was in.

his hands were shaking slightly as he knelt down by her “hey... what did i tell you huh? i thought you were supposed to take care of yourself.” he was so relieved to see her again, although this wasn’t the reunion he had been hoping for after he had to stay behind to make sure that the team was able to escape back to their timeline with the chronicoms in tow. he worked as quickly as he could, removing any leftover wires and nodes from her body, while talking to her about... well, anything really. if anyone asked him later what he’d said, danny boy wouldn’t be able to tell you. his focus was getting daisy out of there and making sure she was safe. after he pulled the helmet off her head, he started brushing the hair out of her face “keep fighting okay? you stay awake for me daisy and i’m gonna get you home.” memories flashed in his mind of their time in the barn with malick, his heart breaking at the fact people kept hurting the amazing woman in front of him. he’d kick himself later for not trying to find a way back to her sooner, could he have prevented this from happening if he had? or perhaps he’d have been taken too, used against her in some way... he’d never really know, but daniel had to focus now. get her home, get her safe, make sure she’s okay three easy goals he could focus on. as gently as he could, daniel gathered daisy up in his arms and lifted her from the ground. “i got you sweetheart, it’s okay.”

DAISY: As the man who had been holding Daisy fell after being tased by Natasha, Daisy crumpled too, her body unable to hold herself up after constant torture. She was glad to have been right about Natasha coming in, but after her head hit the floor, her awareness of what was around her was fading again. She vaguely heard the sound of fighting, and then there was a familiar voice that she hadn't heard in a long time. Her eyes, covered in her own blood, wouldn't open anymore, but she recognized Daniel. She must've been slipping. It was a result of being so close to death. An auditory hallucination. It wasn't real. "Daniel?" she whispered, allowing herself to ask even when she knew this wasn't real.  

NATASHA: Natasha was tired as she took out the last of the guards. Parts of her tactical suit were torn and her lip was bloody from where one of them managed to hit her, but she was thankfully in one piece. She pushed her coms button to give the team a status update. "We have Daisy," she informed them. "We're en route out through the north bay entrance. Take the carrier, find Lucia," her voice took on a darker tone. "I have some questions for her myself." Lucia von Bardas was the one that ordered this torture. Natasha was about to return the favor. She turned to see Daniel pick up Daisy. The woman was barely conscious at this point. Natasha approached them and gave Daisy a reckless smile before quacking obnoxiously. "I didn't give you permission to die. This is so unprofessional. I'm sure you'll make it up to me though."

Her coms buzzed. "Romanoff, we're in."

"Welcome to the party, boys," she grinned. Moments later she heard boots on the ground and the sound of rooms being checked and cleared. It was the back up unit that she'd called. "Come on, let's get her to the Hyperbaric Chamber."

DANIEL: "yeah sweetheart, it's me." he spoke softly as he adjusted his hold to keep a feel of her pulse like he had when he pulled her out of that barn all those years ago. watching the small interaction between natasha and daisy made him smile, seeing her have family like this made him so happy... it was everything she deserved. seeing the agents filing in daniel started moving out of the room, daisy didn't look too good and she needed to get back to hq to start recovering. he turned and looked over his shoulder, smirking slightly "you coming romanoff? thought you said you were gonna steal the kiss from me?"

DAISY: She still heard his voice speaking to her, and she felt like it was just a sign that she was going to slip away again soon. The sound of Natasha's voice was something she knew to be real. She could focus on it, though that was getting harder to do. She heard Lucia's name, and the hellicarrier started shaking violently. It wasn't intentional on Daisy's part. She was hardly in control of her body right now, but as Natasha came over to her and started quacking at her, Daisy calmed enough for the shaking to stop. She tried to return the greeting, but it only came out as choked gurgling. Apparently, blood in your throat didn't allow for very articulated speech, even in the instance of duck calls. She managed at least a small smile as Natasha criticized her for not getting permission to die. "n't dead yet," she wheezed out.

She felt herself being lifted up and moved through the halls. Her eyes weren't open, but she could hear and feel just well enough to know she was being moved quickly. Daniel's voice spoke again, and she had to remind herself again that this wasn't real. It was easier to believe that it was a hallucination from what he said. Even if it was her Daniel, she was sure Natasha would kick his ass for implying she was falling behind. Daisy hadn't been able to see much before, but she'd heard the fighting. Plus, she knew Natasha well enough too to know that she must've done almost all of the fighting here. From the sound of Natasha's orders, she was leading this thing. Whoever suggested she of all people was falling behind was going to regret the words coming out of their mouth. Daisy almost felt sorry for whoever it was, but at least it wasn't actually Daniel.

Whoever was carrying her, certainly not Daniel, got her off of the hellicarrier fairly quickly, or maybe Daisy was just losing her concept of time passing. She heard S.H.I.E.L.D. agents directing the person carrying her back to the zephyr, telling them to get her to the hyperbaric chamber as quickly as possible because she didn't look good. She fell back into unconsciousness before she found out if she made it into that chamber or not. Maybe she was dead. She hoped not. Natasha hadn't given her permission to die yet. How would she make it up to her?

DEKE: Deke was nervous. Not his usual 'state of being' kind of nervous but the more dastardly 'holy shit is my friend alive' kind of nervous. Also the 'she got tortured and it's my fault' kind of guilt laid in pretty thick too. But... he couldn't let that take away his focus right now. He needed to be an agent. Turn off the nerves and the guilt, he was a pro at it in the past he could for sure do it now. He would, if nothing else than for Daisy's sake. The moment Daisy was in, all hurt and bruised and broken but still Daisy, still strong. Well, Deke did what he did best. Move. As soon as it was possible with Daisy situated and safety in there the machination turned on and began it's process.

That was his part. Small. In the end, it was Daisy who would have the toughest job. And that was surviving. Deke inhaled deeply, wishing he could do more and knowing he could not. He ran a hand through his hair. "She'll be okay." He spoke, not even knowing if the words were for himself or the others. "She will..."

NATASHA: She rolled her eyes at Sousa's joke. "My pacing's fine. Yours though..." she frowned. She'd carried most of the operation from the investigation to the rescue mission itself so she wasn't even mildly amused. "We'll have to work on that if you wanna keep up with me and Daisy," she winked. She'd already stolen a kiss from Daisy...more than that actually. But she wasn't gonna tell the old man that. Bless his heart. Now that her team had moved in on the helicarrier, getting to the zephyr wasn't all to hard. Natasha's shoulders eased once Daisy was in the chamber. She would be okay.

"Romanoff, we have Lucia," one of her agents reported through the coms.

"I'm on my way." Natasha looked up at Deke, Daniel, and the others. "They have Lucia and I have questions." She also had a penchant for violence. And based on the way Daisy looked right now, Natasha had no plans to go easy on Lucia. "I think you guys can manage from here. Get Daisy home safe or the next body I bury will be yours," she informed the team. It was very clear she had the means to carry out on that threat. With that, Natasha left Daisy's side and made her way back to the helicarrier to interrogate Lucia. / END

#discord chat

[luxurypackagingdesignagency]

Mazarine Pascalie Luxury Packaging Design Agency

The client prides MiresBall on their quality of labor and a focus to element. We wrap up by checking whether companies implement luxury packaging design agency methods with security, functionality, convenience, protection, model recognition, communication, finances, and ROI in thoughts. We pay particular attention to every agency’s strategy constructing course of as a end result of that can make or break packaging design. As a rule of thumb, good methods start with a market, audience and pattern analyses.

As part of our impeccable service, we thoroughly test each accomplished piece to ensure it’s fit for purpose and exceptionally made. Trust– you probably can belief us to offer branding and packaging design solutions that may portray your organization in the finest possible light. We purpose to make the journey as stress-free as attainable for you, so our printers can produce your packaging from begin to end. Alternatively, we will share exceptionally detailed guides together with your preferred printers if you want. Collaboration – no one knows more about your model identification than you.

Luxury packaging design agency should capture the essence of your model whereas simulating the identical navigational and consumer-friendly aspects that your bodily storefront has to offer. MSLK’s method to luxury net design is rooted by strategy and expertise. We create websites that not solely function an opportunity to coach your clientele, however act as the turning point where your viewers evolves from just a shopper to a maven of your model. Branding supplies, together with luxury packaging, should provide consumers the tools to make knowledgeable decisions to not only choose you now, but additionally to construct a long-term relationship with your model. In order to construct this relationship, MSLK works with thrilling materials that leverage tactile connections, and grab the eye of your clientele. We perceive that luxurious packaging is a crowning glory that completes the entire identification of the brand expertise, and we strive to create memorable keepsakes.

After verifying the authenticity of the critiques, we analyze the info discovered on business directories, websites, and elsewhere to gain a deeper understanding of the companies’ expertise. ARC Worldwide are the nice model activation arm of Leo Burnett and have won a bunch of John Caples Awards, Campaign Big Award, IPM Awards, MAA Best Awards and DMA Awards in the final year alone. It's shoppers in the UK include Mondelez, P&G, McDonalds, Coca-Cola, Samsung and Tesco. Coley Porter Bell can make your brand beautiful, make it stand out from a crowd and entice attention by carefully thinking about how the totally different shopper dealing with parts of your model will match collectively.

As their name suggests, they continuously look to determine manufacturers that assume ahead. We are just showcasing the data for design inspiration and creativity. If you need to create a new Snack model OR extend your established brand to different merchandise, we may help. Having labored with many snack food products currently on the cabinets in nationwide supermarket chains at present. A Clear System – A distinctive use of stock imagery and unpackaging experience helped create intrigue while allowing flexibility within the company’s plans for future SKU additions.

Based in London but working globally for more than twenty years, Jo’s talent delivers unequalled and beautiful luxury design options. Services include branding,print design,website design and bespoke packaging. With a trusted network of award-winning graphic designers, branding consultants and communication specialists, we create packaging designs which are guaranteed to make an impact on each clients and customers. We work with you to remodel your projects from concepts to reality; from idea to must-have product. Based in London, we are a branding and packaging design agency who supply a flexible, partnership method that our larger rivals merely can't match.

Our Beauty and luxurious references, on the service of the biggest brands. We concentrate on producing hand-made bespoke packaging in small runs of between a hundred and 500 units. We can supply bigger portions if required, but smaller runs allow extra inventive freedom through not being confined to the constraints of machinery.

In the same spirit of historic tea ingesting rituals, the brand is interested in the continued promotion of slow-living, a life-style that seeks to position more focus on the small details and experiences of on a daily basis life. Assets included unfastened tea pouches and boxes, takeaway cups and buying bags. These are linked by a T&G logo, Klim Type Foundry’s Domaine Display, Sans and Condensed, a pastel colour palette, copper block foiling and a fragile sample. ButterflyCannon is in distinction to any other design company because it focuses solely on premium and status consumer manufacturers throughout the drinks, cosmetics and food classes. “We are a boutique agency that employs highly creative thinkers and consultants in design craft and production.

To uphold this perception, we mix type + substance to send out an intriguing, yet unified message throughout all types of media, whether or not or not it's branding, packaging, websites, or out-of-the-box advertising. We have been creating collectable, innovative packaging for more than 20 years. Luxury packaging ideas and beautiful design demand excellent execution, so we work closely with a hand-picked team of area of interest craftspeople who share our exacting requirements. Their proximity to London allows us to personally manage and quality control every stage of the packaging manufacturing process.

SGK has been assembly the corporate's expectations on this ongoing engagement. Sixteen years ago, MiresBall was hired by a worldwide tech company for quite so much of digital tasks. The work included world advertising, updating a internet site, content creation, and extra.

They specialize in packaging design, graphic design, and logo options for small and mid-market companies within the area of client products. With that in mind, we tracked top packaging design companies that, along with packaging design, offer net design and development companies. We choose companies that can create excellent digital experiences using a wealthy assortment of visual elements that portray the brand identity in the absolute best means. That’s why we searched for packaging design corporations that double as social media advertising experts.

Since 1985, the team of 20 works with a variety of shoppers on their branding, packaging and web design, and promoting needs. We create work that’s knowledgeable by real relationships, where we continuously look, listen and be taught. Only when we’ve taken the time to fully understand your business objectives will we offer an opinion. With 25 years experience in the trade we provide inventive solutions which balance functionality, data and wonder to assist your brand succeed. Defining your model persona prematurely helps packaging design corporations refine the design to enchantment to your customers. While pastels, bright colors, and fancy fonts may enchantment to Gen Z and Millennials, an older viewers may prefer clear, massive text and minimalistic packaging.

Think Treasure Hunt, whereby you drop clues to the user with the ultimate objective of attending to the product. There are numerous methods to achieve this and these may range from pull tabs, butter paper, pop-up graphics, or satin ribbons. The key is to stroll the tightrope between maintaining it intuitive and maintaining it mysterious in order that the user feels rewarded and not annoyed on the finish of it all. This website uses cookies in order that we can provide you with the most effective user experience possible. Hotspex conducted market analysis for a advertising agency’s third-party client. They carried out an intensive examine to uncover particulars surrounding the client’s goal market.

We work with luxurious brand homeowners on all aspects of their advertising and this typically takes us into the realm of bespoke, innovative packaging design. We’ve created limited-edition, high-end boxes for coffee table books, luxurious boxed invitations for exclusive events and premium press kits to launch luxurious products. Founded in 2014, Fishfinger Creative Agency is a inventive studio headquartered in London.

To remain aggressive, brands must invest in advertising and creative efforts, with businesses preferring companies that provide a full scope of services along with packaging design. As a passionate entrepreneur and creative brand marketing consultant with experience of 14 years in digital, branding and packaging industry, it is my sincere effort to place my experiences and data of trade in path of readers. A chartered accountant by degree but a marketing personality in blood has motivated her to soak up designing business as a career.

Their 20-person group supplies a extensive range of inventive services together with branding, web design, and print design. Lien Design is a artistic company in San Diego that was based in 1998. It presently has three employees and provides services similar to packaging design, branding, print and logo design, market technique and analysis, and promoting.

Founded in 2008, their staff of round 10 workers makes a speciality of contract management, packaging design, and branding. The Design Laboratory supplied packaging design and branding for a spirits firm. Internal stakeholders had been impressed with the group's imaginative and prescient, creativity, and expertise. Deal Design created U.S. market branding strategies for a automobile air freshener firm. They supplied inventive branding ideas, packaging, and logo design expertise that the client rated as top quality.

Founded in 1999, Deal Design's staff of fewer than 10 employees supplies packaging design, brand, web design, and branding services. McLean is a branding agency primarily based in Walnut Creek, CA. Founded in 1991, McLean supplies packaging design, branding, and emblem services for small and midmarket companies primarily. With print nonetheless an important component of promoting, many businesses supply graphic design providers for brochures, journal advertisements, packaging, signage, etc. We consider these businesses intimately against our standards for graphic design firms to ensure solely the most effective safe a spot on our list.

Projects have included Devotion Diamonds, Petit Tribe (luxury children’s fashion), Kalayci and Spence Diamonds. One of our newest initiatives is Savage and Rose, a model new luxury jewelry brand. On their web site is a great rundown of the most effective global manufacturers, Oh and examine out the consumer list, it's longer than most of all of our arms . Whomever we work with, we apply the same level of creativity, attention to element and fervour on their project. I could begin saying how blooming marvellous they're, but I guess that is the pun they meant in the name, or at least certainly one of them, Bloom helps a model develop, blossom and finally bloom into it's full glory.

Affluent clients meanwhile are more doubtless to pay further for a luxurious look and feel, whereas those shopping on a price range will favor operate over fashion. Before sealing a cope with a packaging design agency, you need to know the way a lot their services value. We additionally analysis the success of agencies’ purchasers comparing their performance earlier than and after hiring the agency and in opposition to the competitors to shortlist the top packaging design agencies. Beautiful shapes and graphics must also be space-efficient for transport and retail display. Substrates must reflect model values whereas not costing greater than the product! At Grain Creative we’ve worked with leading brands in the luxury items, telecoms and FMCG sectors.

We take the time to examine their purchasers' performance before and after hiring a particular packaging design company. We additionally use the assistance of pros with a keen eye on design to determine whether the companies have an excellent sense of shade, mild, shape, visualization, and ability to deliver the concept to life without hurting the planet. Today in 2020, purchasing is all concerning the experience, and the journey one goes all through the whole process. Luxury packaging design isn't just about money however to create a memorable expertise in each step. The motive of luxury product packaging is beyond physical protection; it is having a direct hyperlink with the model and its unique story. People are able to pay extra for the delight of being related to the luxurious model.

[yougoodfahm]

Movie night with the bois - Lion King

Link to this on ao3!

Pairing: Moceit (Patton x Janus)

Warnings: none I think?

Words: 1.7k

Summary: After SVS Redux, Patton invites Janus to movie night with the rest of the sides and they get all cuddly on the couch and it’s adorable ok I literally just wanted to write some cute moceit fluff lol

-

Janus could hear the laughter and the popcorn popping, even through his bedroom door. It was movie night. He wasn’t quite sure if he was allowed to go or not, since he’d never been invited before, but after today when at least Patton seemed welcoming to him, he wasn’t sure. Janus slumped down on the floor with his back against the wall. He’d been kind of hoping that he’d be able to join in, but didn’t want to intrude, especially since he knew how much he’d hurt Roman today, plus Virgil and him were not exactly on friendly terms.

He hadn’t wanted to hurt the others, he just sometimes couldn’t stop the words before they came out of his mouth. Most of the time he didn’t even mean to say them. It took so much concentration to not let things just slip through, and it seemed that any time he got upset, the insults just fell right out before he even had the chance to realize he was going to say it. Janus sighed and took off his bowler hat, running through his fingers through his hair. He heard a soft knock at the door. “Hey Janus?” he heard Patton’s voice call. Janus’s throat tightened as he stood up and walked over to the door, tentatively opening it to the shining face of the boy who’d been so kind to him just a few hours earlier, all dressed up in his cat onesie. “Hey, um I was just wondering if you wanted to join us for movie night? We made popcorn, and I think we’re probably going to watch the Lion King, if that sounds good to you. Of course, no pressure if you want to be left alone or something, but I just wanted to check…” Patton trailed off. “I doubt the others would want me around, given how they reacted to me earlier,” Janus spat out. When Patton and Janus had come back to the commons together, chatting away, Virgil had been absolutely livid. “We all talked, and I think I helped clear up some, uh, reservations that they had about you. I can’t say that everything’s all good now, since that’s really between you and them, but I asked if they wouldn’t mind if I invited you and they agreed as long as things stay civil. Considering that Roman’s been bringing Remus for the past couple of weeks as his guest, which always inevitably ends up as the two of them chucking popcorn across the room at each other, I think it should be ok. So, what do you say, will you come to movie night as my guest of honor?” Patton said with a shy smile. Janus’s throat felt like someone had tied a giant knot right in the middle, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to make out any understandable words so he just nodded and gave Patton a quick, grateful smile. Or at least that’s what he tried to convey, it more turned into his mouth twitching so it was really up to Patton’s interpretation what the mouth-twitch meant. “If you want, you can totally wear your usual clothes if that’s what’s comfortable for you, or if you have a onesie or pajamas that you like, those are really fun and comfy, too! I usually wear my cat onesie, of course,” Patton grinned. Janus bit his lower lip and looked over his shoulder. “Ok, um, give me a minute to change?” Patton nodded and stepped back out into the hallway, leaning against the opposite wall to wait while Janus changed. Janus walked over to his dresser and rummaged through the drawer where he kept his pajamas. What would be good for a movie night? he wondered. Janus had never been to a movie night before, so he wasn’t really sure. He didn’t have any onesies so that was off the table. He had some black and yellow flannel sweatpants that seemed like a good option, and he soon found a plain black tshirt. The combination seemed somewhat mysterious, which he liked, and not too much color or pattern which was good since he was hoping to not draw too much attention from the other sides during the movie. Ok, this’ll work. He quickly got changed and soon opened the door to, once again, reveal Patton smiling up at him. “Ok, cool! Are you ready to go watch?” Patton said, practically bouncing on his toes with anticipation. Janus nodded, and followed Patton as he bounded into the commons where the other sides had gathered on the massive couch. Logan was sitting on the left with his bowl of popcorn. Virgil had wedged himself into the corner between the left and middle sections of the couch, covered with several blankets so only his face was visible. Roman and Remus were fighting over the remote on the floor in the middle of the room, and popcorn had already been strewn all around them. There were already two bowls of popcorn waiting for Janus and Patton on the right side of the couch, so Patton made a beeline and patted the couch next to him so that Janus would follow suit. He hesitated a moment, gauging the energy of the room, but it seemed that everyone was just minding their own business. Janus noticed that Virgil tracked him as he crossed the room and sat down on the couch, but then Virgil’s eyes went back to watching Roman and Remus in their scuffle for turning on their preferred movie. Janus settled into the corner between the middle and right sections of the couch, and Patton sat to his side, both with their own popcorn bowls nestled into their laps. Roman lept up, holding the remote high over his head, yelling “OK IT’S TIME FOR THE LION KING!” and quickly pressing play before Remus had the chance to switch it to anything else. Roman tossed the remote to Virgil, who hid the remote in his endless blankets so Remus wouldn’t be able to find it. The twins slumped back against the couch, still sitting on the floor. Janus pulled his feet up and tucked them under himself so they wouldn’t be quite so close to Remus. Janus looked over at Patton, who seemed absolutely enthralled with the movie already, even though they hadn’t even gotten through the title sequence. Janus picked up a piece of popcorn and popped it into his mouth, thinking to himself, Huh, so this is what it’s like?

By the time the song Circle of Life had finished, Patton was sniffling and had tears welling up, which made Janus’s heart feel like someone had squeezed it very tightly.

During the scene where Scar throws Mufasa off the cliff, Patton gasped and suddenly gripped Janus’s hand and held it firmly. Janus didn’t dare move, in case Patton suddenly realized that he had accidentally held Janus’s hand without meaning to. He didn’t want to embarrass Patton. But after a minute or so, Janus realized that Patton’s grip had softened but still held onto his own. It seemed to not be a mistake after all. He slowly moved his fingers to interlace with Patton’s, careful not to move too fast, and he thought he saw the corner of Patton’s mouth tick upwards in a small smile. Janus’s heart lept into his mouth and he felt his mouth twitch once again.

Once they got to Hakuna Matata, Roman and Patton both stood up and belted out the song, pretending to hold microphones. Janus and the other sides laughed until their sides hurt, and he couldn’t help but feel like it was so right. After the song finished, Patton tumbled back onto the couch, much closer to Janus than before so their shoulders even overlapped, Patton leaning into him as he adjusted his sitting position. Janus expected Patton to move away as he re-settled in, so when he didn’t move further away Janus tried to scooch over to give him more room, but as he started to move Patton grabbed his hand again and looked into his eyes in a pleading way that clearly said, No, please stay like this. And so he did. Janus settled back into the corner again and Patton rested his head on Janus’s shoulder. Patton’s thumb traced circles on the back of Janus’s scaled hand. After a few minutes, the circles slowed and then stopped as Patton dozed off.

During the song Can You Feel the Love Tonight, Patton’s eyes fluttered open again and he glanced over at Janus, giving him a shy smile. He quickly fell asleep again on Janus’s shoulder, but he certainly didn’t mind since Patton’s hair was soft and smelled like honey and vanilla. Janus reached up to brush a strand of Patton’s hair out of his own face, and then found himself stroking his hair for a few minutes. He glanced over and saw Virgil staring at him, and he tried to give a look that said Is this okay? Virgil gave a slight nod and turned his gaze back to the movie. Janus went back to holding Patton’s hand and smiled a little to himself.

Janus was woken up as the sunlight streamed through the window onto his sleepy face. He cringed away from the bright light, and the movement woke up Patton who was curled up into Janus’s chest. “Hmmm? Oh, shoot, I guess it’s morning then,” Patton said, with a slightly disappointed tone. Someone had taken off Patton’s glasses and put a blanket over them, presumably after the movie. Oh god, that means they probably all saw them cuddled up on the couch. Janus’s face felt warm as he sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Patton also sat up and yawned, stretched his arms up above his head, and then flopped over into Janus’s lap, looking up at him. “Hi, Janus,” Patton said, with a warm smile on his face. “Do you want to go make pancakes for breakfast? I’m pretty hungry.” “Ok, yeah that sounds really good,” Janus nearly whispered. It felt really strange to be so comfortable around someone, but a good kind of strange. Patton pulled himself off of the couch and offered Janus his hand to pull him up, though he didn’t let go even when they both were on their feet. He just led Janus over to the kitchen and started pulling out the supplies to make the pancakes. Well, I could certainly get used to this, Janus thought to himself, as he smiled and pulled out a mixing bowl.

-

Author’s note: Hi ok I haven't written fics in such a long time but my heart yearns for some fluff so I decided to write some myself sorry it’s not super original but oh well I think it’s cute lol Also just to clarify, I don't ship canon!Janus with anyone with where we're at in the series just yet, but I really like fanon!Moceit so here we are lol

#sanders sides #moceit #patton #janus #ts #morality #deceit #angst #janus angst #deceit angst #fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #au #svs redux #cute #cuddling #happy #patton x janus #janus x patton

[prorevenge]

Wonder Twin Powers Activate

Our teacher was almost sixty, dressed in bright colors(usually pink) and would speak like she was a politician in EVERY past life. This woman was HORRIBLE but I wasn't fully aware of how at first. I know that she could be curt and liked making jokes that seemed kind of rude but at the time, I just thought it was adult humor. At this point, I had few friends but people left alone because I was considered too crazy to mess with but this teacher treated me like I was adorable, also assumed it was because she was an old lady. Bro had chosen to sit next to me, which he usually tried knowing I could answer any questions if he struggled. I had finished the paperwork early and Matt was still working on it. I told him to let me know if he needed anything as I started reading a book. I usually zone out when I read so I fell asleep on accident and my brother didn't want to wake me up so he asked the teacher. A. Single. Question. She, instead of helping an answering the question, started berating him, talking down to him. He said nevermind but she didn't like that one bit as her voice got LOUDER. He kept trying to say nevermind until I was woken up by the teacher as she LOUDLY announced to the class how worthless my brother was and what an idiot he was and anything she could say until it finally registered what was happening and I stood up with an "Excuse me?" The class goes dead quiet as the teacher says "Sit down, honey" and continues to say things, now saying my brother was obviously cheating off my homework at home and how he planned to ride my coattails to pass school. My brother is really sensitive but I have never seen him cry in public because if he doesn't value your opinion, then who cares but this woman was shredding him to me and in front of his friends who DIDN'T KNOW he had a learning disability. I let loose, insulting her beyond measure even climbing over my desk to get in her face, the teacher actually being MY height. I wasn't going to attack an adult but man, I considered it and she KNEW it. She tried to hold her confidence, saying I should take my seat or she'd fail me and give me attention and I dared her to. I told my bro to get up and that we were going to the office, the teacher demanding we take our seats and actually grabbed him. I pushed her and told her and said I knew we'd be sent to the principal's anyway. On our way and waiting in the office, Bro confesses to me that she, even though he told her on the first day had been harassing him NONSTOP and the help I was giving him at home was basically the only education he was getting on the subject and the reason he didn't say anything before because he didn't want me to stop thinking he was cool. I became LIVID.

By this point, when the secretary saw me coming she KNEW I had done something. Surprisingly enough, admin was on good terms with my family because of the bullying issues that I had previously reported and gotten into fights over and it actually ended with my dad and the principal at the time becoming friends- his name Mr. Green and he went to became superintendent so whenever I was in the office, he was called as well to meet with the principal and my parents.

I relayed all of the info to the adults, Bro being pretty much too traumatized to respond. The principal tried to defend her stating Bro was overly sensitive but Mr. Green was NOT having it. They called her in and without letting anyone get a word in, she went on a tirade stating I had attacked her and she wanted the "demon twins" out of her class because we're nothing but trouble. This raised flags with the principal now because she had apparently BRAGGED to other staff about how she basically didn't have to teach me and I didn't bother her at all. They began filing kids in who witnessed everything, the bruise on Bro's arm now turning purple and skin slightly cut from where her manicure dug into him. Safe to say I didn't see her after that but I always felt like that wasn't good enough but my mom had mental health issues and my dad didn't want to stress her out.

Oh. But its not over, my vengeful ladies and gentlemen. I got a surprise I NEVER thought possible, time for revenge.

Fast forward a few years, my mom's mental health is getting unreasonable for a house of children and my siblings are split to live with grandparents. Me and oldest Sis go to live with my mom's mom in the next state over and Bro decided to stay with Grandma in state because of his friends.

I decided to go to a public school, not wanting to enjoy a repeat of bullies that were bailed out by their entitled parents. I decided I was going to read and talk to no one to avoid fights but that actually got me a lot of friends, including our football team's HULK, a 6'3" linebacker who bonded with me over our shared love of books and even came over to help my arthritic grandmother with anything at the drop of a hat.

One day, we had a substitute teacher that everyone did not like who seemed vaguely familiar to me in a haunted sort of way but it had nothing to do with Lord of the Rings or comics so I couldn't care less. I was only in this class because I had caught pneumonia the year before and I have a serious immune deficiency AND my dad passed away so I was out of school over the allotted absence time and had to repeat two classes(still only had four classes my senior year so I nailed it). The sub was hanging around more and more when it finally hit me.

IT WAS MY MIDDLE SCHOOL TEACHER.

Apparently, she had gotten remarried and went to Japan on a teaching program which she bragged about constantly when she tried to connect to me while I was reading manga in her class. I didn't know if she had recognized me at first but it was clear by the way she was singling me out after a bit she had. I was going to ignore it thinking she was only a sub when we got news that our prev. teacher was going to be gone for a while because she was having complications with her pregnancy and this teacher was now our permanent teacher for the rest of the year.

The class hated her, half of which deciding not to do work out of blatant protest.

Not me. I finished everything at the start of class, ASAP so I could go about ignoring her- something she HATED but tried to turn in her favor often. She would even try to give me book recommendations, bash something she saw me reading or even give out spoilers.

It was only after one classmate who turned around and said "this class is stupid, I don't want to be here" and I responded with "You do know if you DO the work you WON'T have to be here AGAIN NEXT YEAR?" and she used it as an opportunity to attack that it hit me. Time for some revenge.

I spoke to the guy after class, apologizing for snapping which he understood and then asked if he wanted tutoring and to help with revenge as I explained why. Apparently, this teacher had been going after him in class like my Bro too. SHE DIDN'T LEARN.

I continued to pay her no attention in class but also took the time to offer my fellow students assistance, which she hated, telling me to get back in my seat or to not talk to the other students because if they didn't understand it when she said it, they probably wouldn't understand the material at all. One of the male student's friends in the class had been let in on the plan and had left their phone on to record anything in class of her going after students.

At this school, each year had their own Assistant Principal and I learned what day the AP for this year(technically I was a junior so sophomore), a cool dude was coming in to observe class with other admins. JUDGEMENT DAY. The lesson the teacher was going through was Protagonist VS. Antagonist. How fitting.

She was going over the nursery rhyme, Little Miss Muffet. I finished the worksheet almost right away and I glanced at the stunned looks on one of the admin's faces who saw me write quickly and open a book and the AP actually snickered and leaned over to say "She does that a lot."

The teacher was talking about what was on the projector and realized quickly that the admins were not happy because half the class was not listening or paying attention. She then went to her usual target, me who she had seated front row; it was the closest seat to both her projector and desk so yeah, I knew she was singling me out.

Teacher: "You're reading in my class while I'm trying to teach, sweetie."

Me: "Yeah, I'm done with work."

Teacher: "Yes, but I'm still in the middle of the lesson." Me: "...Okay? Go ahead." Teacher: "I'd like you to pay attention." Me: "Why? I'm already done."

Teacher: "Yes, but the rest of the class isn't." Me: "Then what are you waiting for? I'm done, I'm not going to sit here doing nothing." Teacher: *flustered but grabs my worksheet* "Alright then, let's see your work." *looks it over before getting this huge grin on her face* "You put that the spider is the protagonist but that's wrong, Little Miss Muffet is the protagonist."

She then geared up to start a speech about the importance of listening to her when I said-

"Actually, I don't think she is. I wrote why if you'd read past the first sentence."

Teacher: "No, that's wrong." Me: "I don't think it is. The story goes "Little Miss Muffet, sat on a tuffet, eating her curds and whey; along came a spider who sat down beside her, and frightened Miss Muffet away." Based on that, all it says the spider definitively did was sit next to her, it didn't say he shouted "boo!" or attacked her. She could have just went "Ah! Spider!" and ran for it. Sounds more like she made a snap judgement based on appearance."

The class is speechless.

Teacher: *composing herself* "Well, it's still wrong. For this lesson, it's wrong."

Me: "Is it though?" I can see her jaw clenching, pissed. "The questions on these worksheets say to write who you THINK is the protagonist and antagonist and explain why. So technically, its a matter of perspective and the only way to get it wrong is to not meet the paragraph requirement."

The class echoes with "OOOOOOH's and some snickering.

Teacher: "Oh, if you think you're smart enough. Why don't YOU teach the class?"

I was initially going to turn her down, only making my point for her to LEAVE ME ALONE when my classmates started volunteering me. The male student even saying "I'm going to have to ask her to explain it all again later anyways and you get mad when she tries to help us so let her teach us."

I was glad the class rallied behind me but NO. I was not prepped for it. I improv'd on the white board, turning off the projection and even using comic book examples to explain the differences until the AP chuckled and called the joke(they're not actually supposed to say anything during observation), asking me to take a seat. The teacher was angry and continued to single me out until the end of class when she asked me to stay after to speak with her. The male student lingered in the doorway with his friend to stop the AP just outside, out of view stating they wanted to talk to him. They stopped him just in time for him to hear the teacher SHRIEK at me, accusing me of ruining her life and trying to ruin it AGAIN while slinging all sorts of insults at me.

The AP stormed in and she turned paper white. The other students followed saying they wanted to show him the recordings we took of her insulting kids in class and how the only reason kids were working now was because I spoke to them because the teacher would stop the ENTIRE class and make us do nothing for full periods saying we'd be too stupid to understand the lesson so why teach if we weren't going to respect her anyway. From there we went to the office and listed how she had been attacking other students and I told her how she taught at my middle school. He told me I could go back to class as he discussed it with the other APs and our Principal and I passed the teacher in the hallway and said "By the way, my brother says hi."

I went home, called him up and told him about it and he just sat there chuckling and going "Oh my god" repeatedly for about twenty minutes.

She was still there the next day but she did not say a WORD to me for the rest of the semester and the next semester, we were all put into different classes, learning that they allowed her to finish the semester on the promise to leave me alone but that she would NOT be coming back.

I managed to get the same teacher fired. TWICE.

And guess what? I write books now so, how's that for a twist?

(source) story by (/u/awkwardbirdnoise)

#prorevenge #by /u/awkwardbirdnoise #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

[breywhite]

Web Design Trends 2020 – Top 12 You Need to Follow

Can’t believe it, but it is true. The web has turned 31 years old now! And we have seen varieties of websites surfacing on it (coming & going) – from bland HTML ones to flash media websites to AI-centric automated websites (the chatbots one?).  We have come a really long way. Transitioning websites according to the latest web design trends has become a lifeblood for every digital business (literally everyone). Because these new web design trends each year are created or approved by your internet users or more specifically, your would-be customers only. And in this fiercely competitive market, you can’t fail to dissatisfy your “future customers”, would you? Just like previous years, this year too, we have some mind-blowing web design trends 2020 prowling around, making a huge impact on the website’s growth in terms of customer engagement, brand value & revenue creation. 

12 Amazing Web Design Trends 2020 You Shouldn’t Skip 

It may sound weird but – “Website design is like a joke, if you have to explain it harder, it won’t make any sense”. Similar to a joke, your websites need to be effortless at the first look, self-explanatory in the second scroll, and convincing to explore & take a further step (like your joke would, to make them laugh) at the third look.

 Without much waiting, let’s get into the 12 amazing web design trends 2020. They are effortless to follow, self-explanatory to look at, and convincing for visitors to enter the sales funnel.

 1. Bold & Vibrant Colors Are In… More Than Ever 

This year, we are seeing bold, bright, flashy colors taking the forward leap. The full bold colored websites with undertones of contrasting and less vibrant colors around the edges of images & texts will be big this year. The designers today are focusing on creating a web design that creates an equal experience for everyone. A color scheme with little contrast of a different color that people even with special abilities can feel and enjoy.

2. Web Design Trends 2020 Make Chatbots More Obvious & Much Powerful 

This year, chatbots will be mainstream and much more efficient at reaching visitors’ quey (all thanks to evolving AI & machine learning). The chatbots will be much more customized than ever. Also, they will appear as if there are real business reps behind the screen. Moreover, they will be in more loud & popping colors. They will reach faster & better at users’ silly to crucial queries with a personable face (maybe of business rep, cartoon character, or some mascot for the brand). 

Chatbots are of different types, the ones with choice based questions, the humorous ones, etc. Additionally, you can choose to script the chatbots per your brand’s conviction & image in the market by partnering with any professional company for web design.

3. Motion UI – Graphics Will Not Be Just Still 

Motion UI is another soaring trend, from which websites can’t keep hands-off. The graphics with slight to full swing animation can add a volume to your simple & static website. This year, websites will be all about winning the users’ hearts with animated graphics at the micro-interactions of the website.

Mobile UI can be added in a mobile screen picture as a moving mobile screen, or on a clothing eCommerce website, where the model gives a 360 turn in product pictures to give buyers an interactive & appealing look. You can experiment with Motion UI anywhere on the website from top to bottom. However, animation should be approachable and should be neither too fast nor too slow – to make sense to website visitors.

 4. Web Design Trends 2020 in Color Palettes 

Every year, there is a new color that dominates the web design trends. According to Web Design Company experts, yellow was the main color for 2018 trends, blue for 2019 trends, and this year, it is said to be the cool & breezy color “mint”.

Apart from just mint or any particular colored websites, we are seeing designers taking the websites to a whole new level with gradients – that has hues of a different color. It is best for businesses that can’t point fingers at just one solid color scheme. The gradient fluid will give more depth to the viewers in the first look. 

Another color trend will be based on your brand theme, type, and target customers’ behavior or thinking pattern.

Like: 

For information & other backgrounds – Colors like soft grey, teal or blue will be a great match to make the content part more readable for users. 

For CTAs and buttons  – Colors as warm and flashy like red, green, orange will be much triggering to click on those buttons.

If you are unsure of what color scheme to follow, your company for web design can help to find the best color palette to splash over your website type.

 5. Fonts in Web Design Trends 2020 Are Bold and Edgy

 San-serif and serif font are the two popular fonts. They will see a continued use this year too with outlined or more dark colors to make them stand out. The bold and broad fonts in landing page headings or subsection headings will steal the users’ attention in a thunder. 

The fonts in the website’s banner or header will either have solid colors or some still or moving illustrations to make a lively connection with the visitors. The fonts will stand out on the surface of either light grey or other soft colors or extra edge pop-up colors.

 Also, note. You have to decide the typeface & font type based on your brand’s notion, the company’s overall goal, and your audience’s behavior pattern. 

Ask your web design company to choose a font and typeface that’s easy for readers to read as readability also counts big in the enhanced UX. Avoid adding complex and cursive fonts as it might confuse the readers and compel them to move out from the site instantly.

 6. Minimalism Still Looks Full 

Minimalism is a classic and never-getting-old design concept. A minimalistic design means fewer web elements, content, as well as more white spaces, and limited typography. Consequently, it gives the user room to think and explore the website much better.

This year too, the trend of minimalistic design is shifting from previous trends and despite being less, it will be more to the visitors. 

You have to pull in minimalism with a lot of care. Make sure the design is understandable and has basic things that a user expects over your website. Keep the images, animation, content limited but in a way that readers are still able to connect the dots to satiate their queries & fall into the sales funnel.

 7. Videos Are Dominating in Web Design Trends 2020

 Videos are the timeless & most classic thing to add to modern web design trends. Try having a combination of text, visuals, and audio-video content. It creates a balance and caters equally to both the “patient” and “on-the-go” readers.

Readers who don’t have much time & are looking for information on the instant, for them, videos portraying the brand message, animation, or small collage of photos can create a long impact on their choice to stay and explore that website.

 A general user loves a website that can showcase its content or offer – in other than just a boring wall of text. Companies today are exploring video-based content and are integrating such videos over their interfaces to serve on-the-go aesthetics.

 You can add videos about anything, like product description, use, tutorial, step by step guide, social messages, and brand story. Likewise, you can even integrate your Youtube videos to look like a very well-established brand. 

8. More Interactive Micro-interactions Are in Focus

 Micro-interactions are the small actions or interactions throughout the website that grab the eyeballs of readers. Additionally, they attract visitors to different sections or elements of the website. Think of the red icons displaying the number of friend requests on Facebook. Or, remember a beep sound on refreshing the Twitter page. All these small icons before any text are all sorts of purposefully-done micro-interactions.

This trend is clamoring this year too. Actually, it is the best way to transfer the information or message to the audience with a more appealing UI.  You can decide any type of micro-interaction at different sections of your website. Yet, you have to ensure they are creative, not overdone, gives a subtle overall UI look. 

9. Increased Attention to UX and UI – Hand in Hand Web Design Trends 2020 

The modern web design trends are showing support to UX (website functionality) and UI (website’s creative interface), congruently. This year, websites with smooth functionality along with impeccable UI are in more limelight. The web design company is focusing on creating a website that gives glitch-free and completely smooth user experience, with:

Less cluttering elements – more of white space for breathing

 Navigable, easy to read and SEO-optimized content

 The fast loading speed of the website

 Balance of rich multimedia as visuals, infographics, videos, 3d illustrations & more

And to keep the user experience in great momentum, designers are focussing on creating more edgy and intuitive interfaces to maximize the UX of visitors with:

 Transcribing the videos

 Adding caption of the image 

Making voice-supportive interfaces

 Having balanced UX motion & other animations

 Easy to skim content framework

 Removing cluttering elements or features that are not necessary 

Mobile responsive interface (more than 50% of internet traffic comes from mobile devices) 

10. Web Design Trends 2020 Include Illustrations Tailored to Tell a Brand Story & Beliefs

 Modern websites have a range of multimedia from visuals to illustrations to stock photos to icons. They appear on the website not just to bring more colors or visual appeal to readers. In fact, they are used for a much bigger purpose. 

And that bigger purpose is to weave an exceptional brand identity. So, you can achieve it by telling a brand story, beliefs, use cases, or thought- process from the core level.

If you see NPO websites, you will notice how such websites are surfaced on top of positive deeds & optimism, such websites’ pictures deliver an out loud message (about helping the marginalized communities) for visitors.

 You can have a splash of real photographs or have vector collections. Additionally, you can try street-art inspired graphics, icons, or illustrations that truly encapsulate your brand’s identity and visions. Ask your web design company to weave you some high-quality images or visuals. The latter should correlate with your brand and have a purpose to convey to the readers. 

11. Large Elements Are “In” in Web Design Trends 2020

 This year’s theme is all about going for bold, big, and users’ screen size elements to deliver a fuller look. This year, the contact forms for businesses too will have a broad appearance.

The contact forms are for picking a product inquiry, signing up for a service, service analysis, and much more. Users generally ditch the contact forms due to their limited size. This year, we will see websites going for full-length lead forms. They will be visible enough for users to fill in, without ditching them in one-go. 

To make the forms appear less tedious or boring, you can add micro-interactions around as. For instance, try showing procedures to fill the form, some additional words to inspire people to fill up, if it is a lengthy form, divide that into different sections & give interactive scrolling buttons at the bottom. 

12. Luminous, Fluorescent 3D Artworks Are Calling in For Great Attention

 3D images and artwork have been there around the block for quite a long now. But this year, we are seeing the luminous, fluorescent, or neon-colored 3D visuals taking an edge more than ever. 

The neon colors visuals or illustrations in the 3D effect on top of the minimal and basic template are grabbing the users’ attention much widely. 

3D artworks are more prime this year to give the website more intense interaction with users and neon colors to give that lively & energetic look to the website layout. Together they combine to give an edge or personality to any UI. 

P.S. While going for this trend, ask your company for web design to use the collection of neon colors in cohesion & moderation and scatter them around the overall UI. Too many concentrated neons can create a dizzy or noisy look. Surface these artworks on primary & subtle colors like white, grey, or light blue to make that artwork highlighted promptly.

 Final Takeaway on 12 Modern Web Design Trends 2020

 Each year new design trends come and go. If you fail to follow them, your scope for winning impactful brand identity and sales may be long gone with that obsolete trend too. Netizens love exploring a website that steps out from its comfort axis and has something spontaneous to offer (according to changing trends). They longer like a website that was made long years back and hasn’t changed anything to participate more actively in its audiences’ concerns & beliefs. 

We just chalked 12 amazing web design trends 2020 that your website too needs to address – to be counted as a genuine and evolving brand – that your target audience expects you to be.

 Are you determined not to put your audience’s interest down? Follow the above and many other stunning web design latest practices. Also, you can also for the help of a professional web designing company. 

#web design #Digital Design

[leeholtwrites]

Magical Girl Reunion Tour - C4

Shonda

Shonda regretted not having Maggie meet her at her house after George went to work. Her sun glasses struggled to fight off the glare of the mid morning sun as she stood on the sidewalk in front of an apartment building. Everything was beige and bleached, baked by the harsh weather. A ring of mountains rose up near by, the only touch of beauty she could see.

She whipped put her phone with a free hand and looked at her location. Las Vegas. Well, this was a far cry from the glittering lights of the vacation she took with George all those years ago, chasing all the best food the tourist spots had to offer. She stared at the xeriscape in front of the building as she shoved her phone away. Why the hell would Maggie be in the party city at the edge of nowhere? 

Shonda's hand holding the coffee carrier started to cramp. She had not slept well last night, and it contained her second cup. Part of her lack of sleep had been her tearing up the garage, looking for her wand. It had been shoved in a box with a bunch of old stuff from high school. Yearbooks, a couple of A+ papers, a favorite jacket, and there it was buried under it all with less reverence than she gave an old essay.

Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of the wand. It was a warm blue with a globe of translucent yellow. Thin threads of gold formed geometric patterns over the globe, meeting at the top in a circle. In the shadow of the box it all appeared muted, even neglected.

With a deep breath, she reached in and grasped the smooth handle. It woke, the colors brightening. Emotions of awe and dread swirled within her as she lifted it before her face. The years hadn't changed it a bit. It was still as bright and warm as it was in her memories.

Now she could feel the mid-morning hear coaxing sweat from her pores. She shouldn't have teleported with her cardigan on. She should have asked where Maggie lived so she could have dressed accordingly. Although, why she ended up at Maggie's place with no Maggie just baffled her. 

A Camry about 10 years old rumbled up to the curb. Maggie sat in the front seat. She gave Shonda a confused look before turning off the car and getting out. "How did you find this place? I didn't give you my address."

Shonda reached into her purse with her free hand and pulled out the wand. It glinted in the bright desert sun. "I don't know. Ask this thing. Usually we teleport where the person we're thinking of is, not where they're going to be. Do you think I like standing outside in the hot sun? It's like, September. Why is it so hot?"

Maggie stepped up on the curb. "Welcome to the southwest during climate change. At least we're not on fire." She pointed to the two cup coffee carrier in Shonda's hand. "Which one?"

"The one closest to you. I'm kind of wishing I'd gotten it iced now."

She pulled it out and took a sip. "I'm not picky. Follow me. I'm on the second floor."

Shonda trudged after Maggie up the concrete steps. The simmering anger had returned upon seeing her old friend. In all honesty, she though she'd been dead. Every couple years she would check the various social media sites to see if Maggie would show up, but never had any luck. The temptation to use her darker computer skills always arose in those moments. Sometimes it took all of Shonda's will power not to call upon those skills her curiosity was so strong. Maggie had all but fallen off the face of the Earth when they started college. Now that the woman was standing before her, she was determined to find out what had happened.

Maggie unlocked the door and slipped inside. Shonda followed her. The apartment was not what she expected. It was clean, but mostly bare. The door entered into an small living space with a couch, coffee table, and a flat screen television mounted over a short bookshelf filled to bursting. A stationary bike sat between the couch and the dining space with nothing hanging off it, so it must be used. A small dining table was pushed up against the wall where a door to a hallway was, two chairs tucked up underneath it. The kitchen was tucked up in it's own alcove on the same wall as the hanging television. It was tidy, with bright pops of color from kitchen towels hanging from the cabinet doors. In the living area, generic artwork hung along the walls, but as Shonda moved to take a seat, she spotted the frames of photographs running down along the hallway behind the couch. She thought she saw herself at fifteen, but there would be time to look later. They had to figure out what was going on.

Viridian slinked around the couch and hopped up on the coffee table just as Shonda sat down her purse and the coffee carrier. "Glad you could join us, Shonda. I'm glad Maggie moved passed her more stubborn nature to at least take my advise."

Maggie rolled her eyes, her lips still glued to the lid of the coffee cup.

Shonda stripped off her cardigan and draped it over the arm of the couch next to her. "Well, if Omira is back as you say, then we have to figure out how we're going to handle it."

Maggie paced back and forth on the other side of the table, yet she still managed to give Shonda her attention, swiveling her head every time she turned. "I don't want to do this, but if what Viridian says is true, there can't be another team as long as we're alive, then we obviously don't have a choice," she said bitterly. "It has to be us."

"I’m glad you see my way," Viridian said with such snugness that Shonda was sure Maggie was going to stuff him in her garbage disposal with the look she gave him.

She took a sip of her coffee, savoring the rich flavor. From the way Maggie was chugging it, Shonda wasn't sure she was even appreciating the specialty coffee she'd picked up from her favorite roaster and café. She crushed the feeling of offence rising up. Maggie was obviously preoccupied with having to pick her wand back up, as she should be.

"It took us three years last time to defeat Omira," Shonda finally said. "I don't know about you, but I don't have that kind of time."

Maggie finally stopped pacing. "I don't have that kind of time. I have two weeks, tops. That is how much vacation I have. I’m lucky enough to have built up enough good will that I can probably get it approved with a phone call, but that's only if I can get everyone else on board. It can't just be the two of us."

"And we have to do it sooner rather than later. Who knows when Omira is going to control someone who has enough passion to start siphoning life force. I say we start with Chloe. Then, if Omira attacks before we get the other two on, we stand a chance. She was our, to use an RPG term, tank. Then you can get into position to use your spells."

With a sigh, Maggie finally joined Shonda on the couch. "I don't know if I even remember half of them. I know I was our magical powerhouse, being our charismatic leader filled with love, but I'm not the same person. Not even close. I wish I could say that was a reliable plan. It's not. We need to try and get everyone on board today if possible. We need the muscle. Can you even remember all your spells?"

Shonda wanted to argue. Her plan was solid. How dare Maggie argue with her when she had just vanished on them. But she was right. They would all be rusty. The only second thought she'd even given her past life was  if her daughter was going to be sucked in. 

She reached into her purse for her wand. "Well, let's see," she whispered more to herself than Maggie. She held it out before her. "Reveal your true form."

With a flash of gold light, the top of the wand morphed into a foot high oval mirror, the handle extending for more balance. Shonda had never liked looking into the mirror despite how often she'd done it. What she saw now was ugly. It was necessary.

Shonda turned it toward Maggie and shouted, "Reveal the truth!"

Maggie had thrown up her hands, shouted at her not to do it, but the glaring white glow was not deterred. On the back of the mirror Shonda saw it, Maggie's truth. Saw her barely able to get out of bed. Saw her cut herself off from everyone. Saw her cry. So much crying. Saw her hold a knife to her wrists.

Shonda dropped the mirror. She couldn't see it, but there was another way to find out. She grabbed Maggie's wrists and pulled them to herself. "No scars," she breathed, filled with relief.

Maggie pulled her hands away, anger in her eyes so hot they could set fires. "What the fuck, Shonda! Why would you do that? You know how violating that is?"

Shame and anger warred inside her. "You just stopped calling! Texting! You have no social media presence. That was never like you. I thought you were dead!" Tears stung her eyes. "You just fell off the face of the Earth." Her voice grew soft. "You're my friend. You made me worry, and I'm mad at you for that."

Maggie dropped her hands. She was quiet. The silence stretched, growing increasingly uncomfortable, but Shonda kept her mouth shut. Maggie was right, even if she didn't want her to be right. She had wronged her, that was true, but the ugly part of her still felt like she had done the right thing. The shame cooled the heat of her anger. What an ass she was. She opened her mouth to speak, but Maggie held up a hand.

"I know, this is not the ideal situation for a reunion. I don't know if I would have told you eventually, but developing very serious depression I hope answered at least some of your questions," she said, her voice mock light. She stood up. "Come with me."

Shonda joined her, confused. She still kept her mouth shut as she followed Maggie around the couch and into the hall she spotted when she entered the apartment. Maggie clicked on the light overhead. Blanketing the wall in a myriad of frames were pictures of Maggie in high school. Some with her friends, some with her family, but it didn't matter, in each and every one she was smiling.

Without looking at her, Maggie began to speak. "I put these up once I moved in. I missed myself, and I wanted to remember what I was like before, well, the darkness I guess," Maggie said sheepishly. "I talk to my family. Call my mom once a week. Got to therapy. Take meds. I like my job. Things are better, but I’m still sorry. I should have at least sent you a Christmas card."

Shonda reached out toward a picture of her in high school. Senior year. Her arm draped around Maggie. Despite that they'd yet to defeat Omira in the picture, there was an energy of carefree youth and love for each other. The tears returned. She fought them unsuccessfully. Maggie had betrayed that friendship with her silence, that much Shonda was sure. Now, she couldn't hang onto that anger. Maggie was back, despite that it took a threat to the world to bring her back, and she was better off than Shonda had imagined. Sure, the generic art, the bare bones furniture, the small apartment seemed a little sad, but Maggie was here and well enough.

She reached up and wiped her tears away. Shonda turned to Maggie. "I do not miss your dye jobs."

A small smile snuck across Maggie's lips. "Look, I don't want to do this either, but it looks like we have to. What do you say we talk to Chloe and go from there."

"You know, unlike you, I know where she actually lives."

Maggie rolled her eyes. "Very funny."

"So, do you want to have lunch in Boston?"

#magical girl reunion tour #magicalgirlreuniontour #femaleprotagonist

[darkhymns-fic]

Magic Swordsman, Expert Tailor

Lloyd has to come to terms with Kratos being his father... Luckily the detailed cloak he was wearing made this a lot easier to deal with.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters: Lloyd Irving, Kratos Aurion, Colette Brunel, Dirk Mirror Link: AO3 Notes: Inspired by @moldy-mold‘s cursed/blessed art. Forgive me...just wanted to make something silly and it’s been so long since I tried writing Kratos. Also since this takes place during the Kratos route, certain deaths can’t be avoided whoops.

---

“Lloyd,” came a voice that lingered in the air. It made him turn.

“Did…Did someone just call my name?” Lloyd asked no one. He had been so distracted by the falling snow outside his window that the voice had made him jump. He felt a little embarrassed about it… but also that voice was very familiar.

So with little time to spare, he left the inn room, walked down the halls and out into the balcony where the stars hovered bright in the sky. Sound felt muted in Flanoir, so hearing that voice so clearly had caught his attention and curiosity.

No one was outside however.

“Huh. Guess I was just hearing things…” Also, it was really cold outside. He hadn’t brought a cloak with him or anything…

“Lloyd.”

He turned, already expectant to find him, and he did. The first he saw was Noishe, his great ears flicking with each snowflake that fell over his green fur, his tail wagging with excitement. Then next to him was Kratos… looking… kind of similar?

Wait… what was he wearing?

“I apologize for calling you out here, but I deemed it was probably the best time.”

Kratos was wearing a cloak, one that was a mixture of light and dark green. That wouldn’t have been so weird if the color hadn’t been arranged in patterns that were exactly like Noishe’s fur. And as if to make sure Lloyd wasn’t imagining things, the hood of Kratos’ cloak was shaped like a certain dog’s head… complete with long, fringed ears, the tuft of dark green fur at the top, and even buttons that served as the eyes and snout…

“Uh,” Lloyd said – it was the only thing he could say.

Kratos seemed to understand his son’s speechlessness. He pulled at the collar of his hood, looking away and giving a small cough. “The snow in Flanoir can be cumbersome. My own clothes are not sufficient enough for it. Speaking of, are you not cold yourself?”

“Uh,” Lloyd repeated, staring at that hood. How did he get it… so detailed? The question finally registered. “Oh! Um, I’m not really cold. This jacket’s good enough! It’s all well-insulated and stuff!” At least that was what his dad would say…

It was so damn weird seeing Kratos look at him with the usual serious expression while basically wearing a cloak version of Noishe’ face. He had never seen Kratos wear this before? Had he always had it?

…Could he get the same kind of cloak if he asked?

Kratos walked up to the balcony next to Lloyd, and started to talk about his reasons for staying with Cruxis, how he knew Lloyd to be his son, and even, with obvious pain in his voice, related the death of Lloyd’s mother. But through all of that, Lloyd still could not take his gaze away from the hood of that cloak.

He got the ears perfect. Did Kratos make this? At times, he had to switch from looking at Kratos to Noishe, who was still standing in the snow, tail wagging and panting, despite it being cold.

“…And then, I killed her,” Kratos said, closing his eyes as he relived the terrible memory of slaying his past love. “After that, I fought off Kvar and his men, but couldn’t find you. I thought there was no way you could still be alive.”

“…Huh? Oh, y-yeah, that’s great,” Lloyd said off-handedly. It was way too hard to pay attention to anything that he was saying right now. “Hey, uh, could I like… how do you have that?”

Kratos raised an eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?”

“Like, do you sew or something? You even got the eyes right!” He was pointing straight at Kratos’ head, before realizing he was talking kind of loudly.

That and Kratos was staring at him – still wearing that cloak.

He lowered his hand. “Er, sorry.” Then scratched the back of his head. “It’s uh, kind of cool, I was trying to say.”

He saw a hint of red in Kratos’ cheeks – probably from the cold. The man looked away for a moment. “I’ve lived for over four millennia – much longer than any human should live for – and I’ve learned a few trade skills along the way. It helped pass the time, so to speak.” He cleared his throat again. “So I learned tailoring, and I seemed to have enough of a talent for it. It was something I learned slightly during my thespian days.”

“Your wha?” Lloyd was gonna ask him about that because it was really confusing him… but he shook his head, still pretty impressed at Kratos’ skills. Kind of a coincidence to have another dad that could also make stuff! Dirk could do a little tailoring too but not on this level…

“Thank you for liking my work, Lloyd,” Kratos said then. Was that pride in his voice?

“Oh! Yeah, you’re welcome! I want one of those now!” Man, how cool would it be to get a cloak like that to match with Noishe? But he realized he was acting kind of excited for what should have been a very serious conversation. He rubbed his hair, dispelling away any stray snowflakes from it. “Heh, just being silly.”

Kratos smiled at his son, looking probably more happy than he ever did. It was kinda strange, especially with the Noishe-cloak on him…but Lloyd was finally starting to understand the man who had been his mentor, and now father.

“It is no trouble at all, Lloyd.”

---

After their conversation, Lloyd had gone back to his room at the inn, a little tired, and actually pretty cold. He had a feeling his jacket wasn’t supposed to be that insulated, more meant for chilly nights back home and not a snowstorm. So with a sneeze, he waved goodbye to Kratos and instantly collapsed on his bed.

When he woke up the next morning, he found a letter enclosed with a pendant – one that housed pictures of Kratos… and his mom, along with himself as a baby. He stared at the important item in silence, feeling so moved that Kratos would give something this valuable to him.

Then his eye caught the sight of something else to the right of him that was on a chair… something green.

"Whoa..." Lloyd breathed as he instantly went over to grab the Noishe-cloak in his hands. Did Kratos actually make more than one of these?!

Lloyd worried it might be too big, but when he put it on, fitting the hood just over his head, he found that it was the perfect size for him. But how? That was when he saw another letter placed beside the cloak, and quickly went over to read it.

Lloyd,

I must confess to you that I had worn this style of clothing on what you could say was a hunch. This design I had made while living with your mother. I would wear this while letting you ride on my shoulders and you always seemed to enjoy it. You were particularly fond of the ears and kept pulling at them. It put my stitching skills to the test so that they should no longer be prone to tearing. I made one for your mother as well, but it was unfortunately lost on the night of her death.

I also once started working on a similar cloak for you when you were young. I have adjusted it accordingly to fit you as you are now. Please accept this.

Sincerely,

Kratos

After reading the letter, and carefully putting the hood to fit better over his head, Lloyd had only one thing to say.

“Man, this is the coolest thing ever!”

And of course, right after getting it, he had to show it off to everyone as he made it down to breakfast. Sure, it made people wonder just where he got it from… but he couldn’t just hide this away! Also it was still kinda cold in Flanoir!

“Lloyd! That looks so cute on you!” Colette was saying, starry-eyed, hands clasped as she looked over the cloak. “Did you make that yourself?”

“Well… I’ll tell you later!” he said quickly as Genis stared suspiciously. “And this makes me look cool, not cute!” He politely corrected her on that, hands on his hips, chest swelling with pride as the wind tugged at his Noishe-cloak’s ears.

“Oh okay! Yeah it does look cool on you!” Colette was hopping on her toes. “I wish I had one too…”

Hm, maybe Kratos could make one for Colette? But he’d have to find him again… “You can borrow this one later if you want!”

“Bud, that looks awful,” Zelos was saying, his tone a little harder than usual. “Where’d you even get something like that?”

“It’s not awful! It’s really cool!” He stood proud, the wind pulling at his cloak dramatically, or so he thought it must have.

Presea was tugging at the hem, looking at it curiously. “There are no paw pads,” she simply stated, then turned away.

“I think paw pads would be weird on this,” Lloyd tried to explain. Noishe came up from behind to bump his large head against his back, whining slightly, but tail wagging at rapid speed. “Yeah, you also think it’s cool, don’t you, Noishe?”

And though he would never admit this out loud ever… sometimes, he thought Kratos could be really cool too…

---

In the Tower of Salvation, Zelos laid in a puddle of his own blood as Lloyd knelt to his level. He was panting after the fight, having long ago let go of his swords. “Zelos…”

“Hurry and get to Colette,” Zelos was struggling to say. “You don’t have long… Heh, neither do I, I guess…”

“Come on, don’t talk like that!”

Zelos faced Lloyd again, at the friends that surrounded him… then glared sharply. “You really had to keep wearing that during our fight, didn’t you?”

Lloyd blinked, absentmindedly tugging at one of the ears that flopped against his face. “Well, you didn’t give me time to take it off! And Colette liked me wearing it earlier…”

“Uh huh…”

“Also, it really matches well with my jacket, doesn’t it? It’s not even that heavy! Were you wanting one too?”

“…Bud…”

“You kept staring at it before! Is that what this was all about?” He looked expectantly at Zelos who now decided to not answer at all this time. “Hey! Zelos!”

“Uh, Lloyd?” Genis said, standing next to Lloyd. “I think he just died.”

“…Oh…”

---

In Torent Forest, the group came upon Kratos who was seated on the ground, looking deep in thought, clasping a bright red sword between his hands. He looked as somber as ever, and it set the air with a tension that Lloyd could feel all around him.

Raine sighed, saying in a whisper to an equally frowning Regal. “Is he really wearing it too?”

“For old time’s sake,” Kratos said, hearing the whisper clearly with his attuned hearing. He got up to his feet, the cloak shifting in the breeze, along with the long ears. “I see you had a similar idea, Lloyd.”

“Well, yeah! Why wouldn’t I?” Lloyd was saying, shocked that Kratos thought he would be any different! He turned back to his group that was full of confused faces. “Everyone, leave this to me.”

“You’re going to fight alone?” Kratos asked, face half hidden in his hood, the sun catching the beady eyes of the cloak.

“Lloyd won’t lose!” called out Colette, eyes bright now that she got to see two of the coveted Noishe-cloaks! “Especially not when he’s wearing something so cute…”

Lloyd had long ago came to terms that at least to Colette, the cloak looked cute on him, but he still stood tall, as cool as he felt! “And while I’m wearing this, I’m gonna show you just how much I’ve improved since last time!”

Kratos said nothing at first, merely readied his sword, eyes narrowed. “I’m not gonna hold back this time.”

Lloyd readied his own weapons, his expression also serious and tense. “I know… I won’t either.”

Genis groaned. “Guys, are you not worried that you’ll tear these up during your fight? I thought these were important for some reason!”

“But we have to!” Lloyd turned to his friend, looking more sure of this than anything.

Kratos nodded once more. “Please respect our choices.”

Raine facepalmed. “They are so goddamn similar it’s giving me a headache. How did I not see it before? It’s so obvious.”

Colette clapped her hands excitedly at now seeing two of the cloaks in action. “You got this, Lloyd!”

Noishe, who happened to be beside her, barked at seeing the familiar attire, while whining at the upcoming fight.

Few of the others could bear to watch…

---

At Dirk’s home, Lloyd carried the weight of his new sword set; one of the deepest azure, the other a bright crimson. A gift from each of his fathers.

“I’m sorry for putting everything on you,” Kratos said, feeling small as he stood next to the dwarf named Dirk. But Lloyd looked at each of them proudly.

“I have great dads. One made a ring for his son using the lost arts, and another risked his life to protect his son in secrecy.” Lloyd closed his eyes somberly as he thought on his words, then opened them with brightness. “That and now I not only have two cool swords by both my dads, but also two outfits! I’m so lucky!”

As he was, of course, wearing his usual red outfit – originally made by Dirk, numerous buttons and all – with the Noishe-cloak right on top of it.

Dirk looked at Lloyd with amusement, then shook his head with soft laughter. Kratos had long put away his own cloak (Dirk had offered to wash it with the next load of laundry), but he was sure Kratos probably wished he could wear it right now. “Yeah. You’ve got great parents!”

Now with two swords and two treasured outfits, Lloyd truly felt he was twice as strong as before!

---

And yet, after everything, it had been time to say goodbye. Lloyd looked to the sky where he had sent Kratos off for a long time before he headed back home, wondering on his decisions before he could finally settle with it.

“Are ya alright, Lloyd?”

Taking a deep breath as he turned around, leaving the grave of his mother to face Dirk, he smiled. Colette was standing next to him, with a similar look of concern on her face. face.“ I’m fine now.”

“I’m glad Kratos got to leave you a present in the end,” Colette commented, referring to the cloak he still wore. There was also the sword, Flamberge…. But she was totally talking about the cloak. He didn’t mind. It really was so cool!

“Heh, yeah! Me too.” Fixing the clasp to be a bit tighter, he stopped in mid-action. “Oh, I forgot some other stuff in my room. I’ll be right back and then we can go!”

“Okay!” Colette said cheerfully, while Dirk shook his head with a gruff smile. Lloyd went off in a flash of red and green through the door and up the stairs. He even felt faster with this cloak on! Well, Noishe was as fast as the wind, after all… maybe some of Noishe really was in this cloak.

When he went into his room, seeing the pack he had missed bringing back downstairs, it was then he saw something else – something that was placed on his bed.

Something that was a familiar green.

“No way…” Eyes shining, he reached for it to confirm it was real. And sure enough, it was another Noishe-cloak, just as well-made as the one he wore! But he could tell right away that it was a bit shorter? Not by much, but…

He saw a letter on the bed too, which he went immediately to read.

Lloyd,

I will have most likely left to Derris-Kharlan by now. But I wanted to finish making this for your partner during your journey in gathering the Exspheres. I’ve seen Colette stare at your cloak… Forgive me for assuming, but I had wanted to present this as a surprise.

Take care of each other. And don’t die before I do, my son.

Sincerely,

Kratos

Lloyd held both letter and cloak in hand, already imagining a certain familiar blonde-headed figure within the hood. She always seemed to love the ears specifically, and they had just the right amount of fringes on it – just like the real thing.

Hearing Noishe’s bark travel up the stairs, he was reminded he needed to hurry. He had the perfect reason to do so now.

“Colette! Look what I got!” he was already shouting, rushing back down the stairs, excited to see Colette’s happy smile on her face.

And as they both traveled down the road later on, donned in flowing patterns of green as Noishe followed along behind them, Lloyd couldn’t help but think, Kratos really can be cool sometimes…

#tales of symphonia #kratos aurion #lloyd irving #colette brunel #tales of #fanfiction #one shot #im gonna get these cloaks for my colloyd plushies and they're going to look amazing

[blurry-fics]

Tuesday

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2029

Author’s Note: I have my last finals of the term tomorrow and then I’m officially done for the summer! I can’t wait to have more time to write more fun things like this for all of you :) anyway, enjoy day three!

*     *     *     *     *

You were woken up by a group of girls crowded around the edge of your bed, poking you as many times as they could. Across from you, the other half of the cabin was doing the same to Jenna. This was a planned attack.

“I’m up! I’m up!” Jenna said, sitting up straight and holding her hands out in defeat.

“Can you do our hair?” one of the girls asked.

“Why don’t you get dressed and then we can do hair?”

This seemed to appease the girls, because all of them went running off to their bunks. You and Jenna shared a look as you got out of bed and changed into your clothes for the day. Today’s activity was arts and crafts - which you just so happened to be in charge of - which meant you had the luxury of being in a tent all day.

“You want to do my hair, too?” you joked as you pulled on your t-shirt.

“Only if you wait your turn in line,” she giggled.

You shook your head and began to lace up your shoes. Girls were already beginning to line up at the end of Jenna’s bunk, patiently waiting their turn to get their hair braided. Since you didn’t have the same hair talent that Jenna did, you settled for helping the other girls with their bandanas.

“Are you guys excited to do some art today?” you asked.

“Yes!” one of the girls screamed, making the rest of them join in with their own high-pitched screeches.

“Alright, let’s bring it down a little bit,” Jenna said without missing a beat in the braid she was doing.

You chimed in, “Make sure all of you make your beds and have your bandana on today! We only have twenty minutes until we need to get to breakfast.”

*      *     *

“Good morning,” Tyler smiled as he walked up to you.

You finished filling your second bowl of cereal and turned to him, “Good morning, Vulture.”

He leaned closer to you and whispered, “You know you don’t have to call me that when the kids aren’t around.”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, there are a lot of kids around,” you mocked his whisper.

“We could change that.” He ended his sentence with a dramatic wink.

“Hey!” you said, giving him a light jab in the ribs. “No flirting around the kids.”

“Come on, Y/N, it was harmless.”

“Harmless or not, it’s the rules. And my name is Y/C/N.”

Tyler sighed as he poured milk on to his cereal, “Whatever you say, Y/C/N.”

“Thank you,” you grinned before walking back to your table. You hated to leave Jenna alone with all the girls for too long.

“What was that all about?” Jenna asked, gesturing towards Tyler with her spoon.

You looked around at all the kids that were eagerly watching you, waiting for your answer, “I was just joking around with Vulture.” Jenna raised an eyebrow at you and when the kids were distracted, you mouthed a quick, “Later,” at her.

She checked her watch, “Ten minutes until the end of breakfast, kiddos. Finish up whatever you want!”

“Then you’re going with purple cabin, ok? Daisy and I have to go work on other things while all of you are at the meeting this morning.”

The girls seemed to get the memo, so you sat back in your chair and finished the rest of your cereal. There was a long day ahead of you.

*     *     *

“Who’s next?” you asked, leaning over Jenna’s shoulder so that you could see the schedule.

Your first cabin of the day had already come through and things had gone by swimmingly. All the kids loved the crafts that you had set out and there hadn’t been any major incidents so far. You and Jenna had already been gifted a number of bracelets, and you knew your arms would be near covered by the time you got to lunch.

“Blue cabin,” she said.

“Josh and Brad,” you grinned, happy to hear that some familiar faces would be coming through next. Of course, you knew all the counselors pretty well, but you didn’t have the same friendship with them as you did with Josh or Tyler.

“Hey, hey,” Josh said as he entered the cabin, carrying a kid in each of his arms.

“Hello!” Jenna said.

The rest of the cabin began to file in, finally revealing Brad bringing up the end of the group. He seemed worn out, but you figured it was best not to ask.

“What are we making today?” Josh asked as he took a seat across from you.

“Whatever you feel like!” you grinned. “All of the materials are free to use to make whatever your heart desires.”

“Whatever?” Josh raised an eyebrow at you.

You caught yourself, “Keep it camp appropriate, please, DJ Spooky.”

“Camp appropriate. Got it.”

You continued to work on the bracelet that you had started earlier that morning, occasionally pausing to help one of the boys. They seemed to be enjoying the activity, although paint occasionally ended up all over the table or on their faces.

“Hey, Y/C/N,” Josh said.

“Yeah?” you asked, looking up for a moment.

You were immediately met by a wet paintbrush being tapped to your nose. Josh began to giggle once he saw the look on your face.

“You’ll pay for that, Spooky,” you giggled, wiping away the paint with the back of your hand.

“Will I?”

“I’ll make sure of it.”

About ten minutes later, you were doing a lap around the table to make sure nobody needed help. Josh was distracted by his project, so you took the opportunity to coat your hand in a light layer of paint. You walked over to him and leaned over his shoulder.

“What are you working on there, DJ Spooky?”

“Just an art piece,” he shrugged.

“Let me get a closer look.”

You leaned forward and placed the paint-covered hand on his forearm, leaving a bright yellow handprint. He made a face as you rested your hand on his arm, but didn’t entirely realize what was going on until you pulled away.

“Hey!” he laughed.

You giggled and began to walk a little quicker down the table, still determined to do your job while escaping from Josh. He quickly caught up to you, grabbed your arm - coating it in a thick layer of blue paint - and pulled you towards him. You managed to stop yourself just before you collided straight into his chest.

“How do you expect me to get all that paint off my arm?” you asked, consciously aware of the fact that his hand was still gripped tight around it.

“I think you’ll manage.”

There was still a bit of paint left on your hand, so you reached up and lightly bopped him on the nose, leaving the smallest trace of yellow paint.

“Gotcha,” you grinned.

“Hey, Y/C/N,” Jenna called.

You looked over to her. Her eyebrows was raised and she glanced from you to a kid with his hand raised.

“Sorry, I’m coming!” you said, pulling your arm away from Josh’s grasp.

As you helped the kid, you wiped away most of the thick layer of blue paint that Josh had left. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t seem to completely get rid of the traces of blue.

*     *     *

“Last cabin,” you sighed, trying to ignore the way your stomach was rumbling.

“Just another hour, and then we get dinner,” Jenna added.

“Thank goodness, I think I might starve.”

A stream of kids began to enter the tent, looking just about as tired as you felt. They took a seat along the benches, waiting for instructions. Tyler and Mark were the last ones to enter the tent, and Tyler made sure to take a seat right next to you.

“You sure have a lot of bracelets there,” Tyler commented as he sat down.

“What can I say? The kids love me.”

“Watch, I’m going to make you the sickest bracelet that you’ve ever received.”

“Look out, you have a lot of competition,” you laughed, wiggling your arm in his direction.

“Yes, but none of them have my sheer talent.”

You and Jenna shared a look with one another, trying your hardest to conceal your laughter. She quickly explained the rules before setting all the kids free.

“Hey, Daisy,” you said, drawing her attention.

“Yeah?”

“I finished your bracelet.”

She smiled as you handed the little bracelet to her. It was mostly yellow with a little bit of white woven in, just to add a little bit of pattern. You helped her tie it on.

“It goes great with the rest of all my bracelets,” she laughed.

“I would say so.”

“And here’s yours.”

She tied the bracelet she had made for you on with the rest that covered your arm. You smiled and admired it for a moment.

“I love it.”

“I hoped you would.”

Her attention was drawn away by one of the little boys asking for help. Tyler decided that this was the perfect moment to seize your attention.

“What do you think so far?”

You looked over the bracelet that Tyler had just started to make. It was much better than you had expected from him. He had settled for yellow and red, the colors of your two cabins.

“I think it’s looking really good.”

He turned to you and smiled a dorky little grin, as if he hadn’t expected such a nice compliment from you, “You really think so?”

“Yeah! If you actually finish it, I’ll wear it for the rest of the week.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

He reached a hand over and you confidently shook it, secretly hoping that he would get the bracelet done before he had to leave. Before you could say anything else to him, you had to help Mark clean up about three bottles of paint that he had somehow managed to knock over in a single movement.

“Alright, boys, time to get cleaned up!” Jenna announced at the end of your allotted hour.

“Wait, no!” Tyler said.

You looked over to him. He was still bent over the table, furiously working on his bracelet for you.

“Looks like I won’t be wearing your bracelet this year,” you teased.

“Ah, wait!” he said, pointing a finger at you. “You didn’t specify when I had to have the bracelet done by! You just said that if I actually finish it, then you’ll wear it.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but realized that he wasn’t wrong.

“Do you plan on finishing it?”

“Of course I do! We have a deal, Y/C/N,” he grinned.

You shook your head and gave Tyler a little shove, telling him that he had to take his cabin to dinner. Jenna was already starting to clean things up, obviously just as eager as you to get down to the cafeteria for food.

“Just think, all this and we still have more to do after dinner,” Jenna sighed as she packed up some paints.

“But hey, at least we’re not in charge of anything else for the rest of the week. Green cabin is handling the evening activity, all we have to do is participate.”

“You have a point.”

“I know, I always do.”

*     *     *

You carefully slid all the bracelets that had been made for you off of your wrists and laid them on top of your bag, with the exception of the one that Jenna had made for you. Part of you was still hoping that Tyler would have that bracelet for you tomorrow.

“Goodnight, ladies,” you called before flipping off the lights.

You were met with a chorus of “Goodnight, Y/C/N”s as you crawled into your bunk and made yourself comfortable. This week was already shaping up to be the best summer camp yet, and it was only Tuesday. There was still so much more to do this week, you weren’t sure that you would be able to handle it all.

Not to mention that you still had to decide if this would be the year you admitted your camp crush.

*     *     *     *     *

Taglist

@faceofcontvsions @ohprettyweeper @addictwithaheavydirtycheetah @addictoftwentyone @svintsandghosts @patdsinner33 @gaiatheroyalrabbit

#tyler joseph #josh dun #tyler joseph x reader #josh dun x reader #twenty one pilots #tyler joseph imagine #josh dun imagine #twenty one pilots imagine #josh dun fanfiction #tyler joseph fanfiction #twenty one pilots fanfiction #miniseries #summer camp #blurry-fics

[thetaylorfiles]

🧘‍♀️1/ It was an Entertainment Weekly interview. To keep this 'short' I'll share a few quotes: "I think the best messages are cryptic ones", "easter eggs can be left on clothing/jewelry", "I planned this two years in advance!" Let's say that KK is important enough to her music(*muse*ic, if you will) that she is important enough to have deep easter eggs attributed to her. Deep enough they are admittedly planned years in advance. I like to keep in mind TS started as a teen country singer.

🧘‍♀️2/ It's not a stretch to assume she was 'forced' to closet,beard & portray a wholesome, straight, blonde, all-American, girl-next-door. I think she has found some freedom in communicating through secret messages - some easy to decipher, & some extremely complex - this is Taylor Swift after all. KK may get paid to wear clothes, but it's not the least bit peculiar to you that TS wears it after, or is photographed in a shoot using the same purse, or wears complimentary clothes...

🧘‍♀️ 3/ (the black shirt w/eyelashes vs the white one) etc. Now, for their friendship. For me, if I put myself in the theoretical TS shoes I've created, I would also hide my true lover if I hadn't come out yet, and planned to on my own terms. If the friendship created such speculation that it takes away from her owning the moment herself, I would cut it out too. Also, I did just want to let you know, I do much more 'research' than just TTB 😊

——-

Hi again. What is your emoji? It looks like a girl toddler sitting down but I know it can’t be! Hahah! Is it just a girl sitting cross cross?

Yay for your own research besides TTB. I’m so glad to hear it. And also, feel free to send as long a message as you want. Do it as a submission. It’s easier that way.

Thanks for the quote from T. I have a shitty memory sometimes. I was wrong, so forgive me in not remembering. She did clearly say she uses clothes and jewelry to leave Easter eggs on. Now, I don’t know which eyelashes garments you’re referring to specifically, so if you could refresh my memory, I’d appreciate it.

But as to the other garments that seem to match or be similar, I don’t mean to be argumentative but I truly don’t see patterns. Yes, when they were friends I think they swapped clothing with one another. But now, I think they’re being put in clothing by stylists who are choosing from what’s extremely on trend at the moment. Taylor’s not shopping for herself. That’s out of the question with her celebrity. She has racks of clothing brought to her by her stylist and his assistants and she selects from that. All those clothes are hand picked from the latest in the stores and runways. Karlie basically has the same except she’s around designers and in showrooms and has her own stylist. They’re choosing from the same array of stuff. It’s not a coincidence that they end up wearing the same colors sometimes because these trends have been decided by the designers about a year in advance, sometimes more (it’s crazy how this stuff is done, way too long to explain). So, I’m sorry. We’ll have to agree to disagree on this. I see nothing in the similar clothing.

As for being forced to beard... maybe if I hadn’t grown up in LA and worked on film for nearly 2 decades and had so many friends in tv and film, I’d see this stuff differently, but this just isn’t what bearding looks like. Being “forced” to beard looks like this:

You’ve got a celebrity who is very hot right now or is on the rise. Their agent or publicist/manager and everyone on their team has convinced them they know what is best and America will never accept an out gay man or woman as the next leading man or top vocalist. And sadly, this is still true. America will accept them to a degree but at the top of their game? Not yet. And the celeb in question knows this. So he goes along with it. He doesn’t like it, because he loves his boyfriend. But he plays the game because he loves acting or singing and it’s the price you pay. And he resents his agent but he gets it.

So he lets his publicist put out tabloid stories of him being caught canoodling with a female celeb here or there. Then he goes out with said female celeb to somewhere like The Grove or one of the it restaurants and they get papped but make it look organic. They don’t comment. They build momentum through “are they, aren’t they?” Because that kind of talk is way more intriguing than a confirmation. Plus, it lets you test the waters. Is it going to be Ben Affleck and Jennifer Lopez attention grabbing? Or is it going to be a dud romance that no one cares about. Ideally you want somewhere in between because Gay Celeb wants the public to believe he’s with Straight Female Celeb but he doesn’t want to have to be on guard all the damn time and be with her too often. Eventually the couple goes public and they attend red carpets together hand in hand. The Gay Celeb and Female Celeb are friends and get along- that is a must. No one in their right mind would pit two people who didn’t care for one another together and make them sign some “bearding contract”. That’s a recipe for disaster and revenge and who wants to take that risk (so all this talk of Josh and joe and Karlie and Taykor all hating one another? No dice). Also, the Gay Celeb establishes early on that his partner is actually his best friend so that they can hide in plain sight. Trust me on this one. There are several best friendships in Hollywood currently that are more. I know of one. But I’m sure there are more. Think about it. Why in the world would you hide that? Why would you set yourself up to hide your lover and sneak around and set up the possibility to get caught by paps and give them and the Enquirer something to blackmail you with? Or give a producer with no morals who wants you to do his shitty movie something to blackmail you with?

So, no. I don’t see a situation between TS and KK where they ever needed to stop being friends. There was never really any speculation about th em except for one night and that went away quickly and they carried on exactly as they had been, even doing a vogue cover embracing one another. So clearly the speculation didn’t stop them. So why end the friendship all of a sudden?

Any thoughts after what I explained?

I don’t mean to come off as ‘I’m so cool I’m so Hollywood”. I’m not. I used to be in the film business but not in some huge important way. But I did have tons of friends in all sorts of positions ina and around film and tv and angencies. And I had a very good gay friend who dated a closeted tv actor, who I then got to know. I actually witnessed him fake date an actress whom he barely even knew. I know a little. I don’t know everything. Mostly I just use logic. I try to break it down all the time logically.

Like, don’t you think, logically, that what would make the most sense of Karlie and Taylor we’re secretly together would be for them to be friends - maybe not super close, but still friends- and maybe have a boyfriend here or there but not to be married and super serious boyfriend. And not to have to send clues to their fans to speak to them through riddles and code and clues? Why would Karlie choose to stay with josh Kushner if he’s so bad as they say? Why would she fake a wedding? Why is Taylor still with Joe instead of being single? Why does Taylor spend SO much time in London (which is confirmed by the Jetties)?

Just stuff like that. I’d love to hear how you make sense of things like that. I know, for me, Kaylor made sense when they were friends and stopped making sense shortly thereafter, which is why I started questioning and ultimately leaving. So I’d love to hear where your head is at on that. Oh, and also, what about all the broken promises along the way. The “Joe is gone after Rep is released. No, joe is home after Rep tour. No, Joe is home by TS7. No, Joe is gone after Lover. Etc.” and the same for Josh. Like, no matter what, they’re always saying T or K will be ���free” of Joe and Josh by this date and it never happens.

Oh! And also, what do you think of Karlie being managed by and friends daycat with Scooter? How does that work?

Please know, none of this is asked maliciously. I’m truly enjoying our back and forth and I hold no ill will and I don’t think you are stupid or have any malice towards anyone or are crazy or delusional. You seem smart and bright and into possibilities. So I’m interested in just talking. And btw, thanks so much for keeping up the conversation. I’ve genuinely enjoyed it.

And remember! Send a submission so you don’t have to keep sending asks. That way you can make it as long as you want. I think you can put in a fake email to be anonymous. xx

(No proofreading again. Sorry! Hope it makes sense!)

[littlemeowmeowschimmy]

Be Mine [Yoongi x Reader]

Credit: littlemeowmeowschimmy

Requests opened // m.list

Genre: Fluff // Cute 

Summary: It was everything you had ever dreamed of - getting married to Min Yoongi. 

Word Count:  2690

A/N: Let me know what y’all think. Do you want a second part? I’ve been in the wedding mood lately, so I figured this would be cute. 

»»————-　★　————-««

 There it stood in its full beauty. It hung on a hanger, pressed against the mirror. The veil resting besides it as the sun’s rays casted upon it. You sat there; your hands folded in your lap with your legs crossed at the knee. You noticed that because of the small jewels, the sun made the dress sparkle. The pink undertone was light as the dress itself wasn’t pure white. Nor was it strapless because it hung from two beautiful laced straps. 

Surrounding the full and base of the skirt was beautiful lace designs. You remember standing in the stop looking at it. How it’s beauty completely captivated you. Once the dress was on, the tears fell. Little did you realize that your life was changing right before you eye. 

It was a hard pill to swallow. Knowing that you were changing from just an independent woman to still one but with your fiancé at your side. You had gotten used to his company over the five years you had been dating. How warm and soft he was, bunt and his sarcastic humor. He seemed to be enjoying what he was doing, because he spoke so passionately about it. The time you’ve spent together was like a dream that was now becoming your reality. 

Slowly, your body ascended from your chair. You delicately moved yourself towards such beauty. It was almost as if you were sneaking up on a peaceful bear. You didn’t want to make a sound, because if you had, it would rip you away from your entrancement. Just as you were about to reach out and touch it, the doorbell rang. 

Your heart skipped against your rib cage, your mind swirling with questions. Almost robotically, you move around. Calling out to whomever was waiting. When you opened it, there your mother and bridal group stood. Your mother was dressed in a navy blue, her eyes bright and teary. She reaches out to touch your face, gently caressing her thumb against your skin. 

“Today’s the day,” she spoke her eyes blinking the tears away. You gave her a small smile, reaching up to grasp her wrist, then press your cheek against her palm. She takes in a heavy sigh, then proceeds to step around you. Blythe, your maid of honor, claps her hands. 

It was her way of getting everyone’s attention so they could move. It seemed as if she had her entire collection of makeup and tools with her. The reason being her big bright bag was filled to the brim. The other girls, Athena, Harlow, Layla, Jazz, and Harper moved inwards. They all seemed to be wearing their bridal gowns. 

A sweet heart neckline with a short front and long back. The color was a simple light pink, matching up with the pink undertones of your dress. The waist had a beautiful rose jewel in the center that was met with the laced back. Their dresses were strapless but could be held up by the shoulders with a clear strap. Their heels clicked against the wooden floor, sending the once quiet room into one filled with laughter. 

The bridal party seemed to finish getting ready with you. Doing their own hair and makeup as well as making sure to give you as enough support as they possibly could. These girls were your best friends, most of whom you met in college. They were your support system when you studied abroad in Germany and continued to be so when you moved out. 

It had been years since you last saw them in person, the sight alone making you want to cry. Yes, you met up with them weeks before, but even now, their company was enough. Blythe pushes you down into your chair again, a small mischievous grin spreading across her lips. 

“So, why didn’t you tell me about Jungkook?” she ponders taking your hair out of the messy bun it once resided in. 

“Because he is younger than you,” you start looking into the mirror to catch her eye. “And I knew if you knew you’d be all over him, because you’re like a lioness.” Blythe had a thing for younger men. It showed in her dating patterns and how often she got in trouble. She often explained that the men her age were out of her league and immature. 

It’s often why she came home with someone who was two years or even three years younger than her. She said they were fun, had more energy, and didn’t complain that often. You believed that most of the guys she hooked up for was just for sex. There were plenty more reasons for not telling her about Jungkook. One of the more recent ones was because he was often shy around the other sex. 

Blythe would literally crush him, and you didn’t want to see that. “So?” She presses grabbing her comb to push away some hair. “That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try~” her mischievous look turning dark and lustful. 

“Oh, come off its Blythe,” Harper, the eldest, rolls her eyes. Harper was a lot like Namjoon. In the sense that she kept everyone sane. Most importantly, she and Blythe would often get into arguments surrounding her dating patterns. Harper was only looking out for her friend and she wanted to make sure that everything was okay with her. But also, she was the mother of the group and she hated the way Blythe acted so childish. “You shouldn’t be trying to get into bed with Y/N   fiancé’s best friend.” 

“But I do want to ride Jimin though,” Layla whistles out, Blythe joining in. “Maybe even Taehyung. C’mon Harper, at least admit Yoongi does have handsome men for friends.” Layla and Blythe were born in the same year. They often thought alike, hung out the most, and were basically twins. Their relationship reminded you a lot of Taehyung and Jimin. They were extremely playful women and extremely straight forwards. 

Harper went silent as she didn’t know what to say. Instead, she picked up her eyebrow pencil, moving it inwards to start filling in. Layla whistles again, asserting her sense of accomplishment. Everyone wasn’t going to argue with her statement. Just by the group chat the previous night, everyone was drooling over them. 

“I wonder what Jin will wear...” Athena squeaks from the corner. Your eyes shift towards her. She was a delicate one, but very thoughtful. She was the friend everyone went to when they were feeling down. Just like Harper was the mother, Athena was like the best little sister. She was the youngest out of the seven of you. She still was in undergrad as she had changed her major just in the three years. 

Athena wasn’t one to speak out normally. Instead, she observed everyone, making sure they were doing fine. It was her who was the loud and rowdy one at parties when drunk. Just as Hoseok, she was a light weight. Or so you assumed Hoseok was, due to how quickly his vibe changed when he did drink. 

“I’m positive Jin will be wearing whatever Yoongi puts him in darling,” Harlow reassures tapping the excess powder off her brush. She moves in to place the darker shade on Jazz’s lid. Out of everyone, Harlow was the one who majored in something artistic. Most everyone wanted to see what she could do with a brush and some powders. 

The sight was almost mesmerizing how quickly she worked. Jazz was a music major. She wanted to do something with her voice and that’s exactly what she did. Just like Harlow, everyone went to Jazz if they wanted a song written or to analyze something. Jazz and Athena were a lot alike in the terms of they don’t speak up often. 

They were extremely shy once you met them and slowly opened over the years. However, when they were in new environments they often froze and hid behind Layla and Blythe. Just to have their energy was still enough to make you smile. Having your friends around you was the most rewarding thing you could’ve asked for in life. 

Silence stepped in once again due to the door bell ringing. Your mother stood up, leaving her chair alongside your bed. Her heels clicking while she makes her way down the narrow hallway. The girls whispering to each other, Blythe curling another part of your hair. When the door opened, you heard your mother speaking quietly. 

Seconds later, Jungkook pops his head around the corner. He gives everyone a great big smile, his eyes forming crescents. You didn’t have to look at Blythe because you knew she was already giving him a lustful glance. You reached back to smack her leg, receiving a hiss from her. Jungkook held his camera in hand, as it seemed he was taking photos for you. 

“You really don’t have to Jungkook,” you start only to be cut off by Blythe. 

“You’re walking down the aisle with me right Jungkook?” He flushes a little nodding his head while raising the camera. 

“Yeah, it seems like it.” he answers calmly. The reaction alone making Blythe give a devilish smirk. Layla whines next to Athena, her attention drawn back to the mirror. She was walking down the aisle with Hoseok, whilst Harper was walking down with Jimin. She didn’t have a problem either way, but her eyes were set on Jimin. 

Jungkook’s camera snaps away, capturing every laughter, every mistake, and every memory. It wasn’t long until he had to turn around because you were getting into your dress. Jungkook walks out into the hallway, only to be met by Blythe trying to shoot her shot. Your mother and Jazz help you get into your dress. 

The fabric easily sliding over your head, down your back and sitting on your shoulders. Jazz comes around, grabbing the strings to lace up the back. This time, the fabric squeezes against your curves, then sits still. You looked at yourself in the mirror, finding it hard to believe that you, Y/N, was marrying the man of your dreams. 

What topped it all off was your mother. She came behind you, the veil tied to a small flower crown. She pins it on top of your hair, moving some of the loose strands to frame your face. Her eyes were red with tears and her hands shaky. She stands there, a smile spreading across her lips as her palms reach to gently touch your face. 

“You look absolutely stunning my dear,” her voice coming out small. “I am so proud of you and so proud to be your mother.” her emotions swelling as every word touched your heart. “He is and will absolutely adore you.” 

 »»————-　★　————-««

 Yoongi stood at the altar, his hands behind his back. It was your idea to have a Westernized wedding before the more traditional. This way, it would join both parties respected cultures. He couldn’t stand still as the anticipation was growing ever more. The room was filled with bright pinks and whites, the smell of candles and other aromas filling the air. 

His eyes couldn’t stop looking around. It was almost as if his wedding had come out of a storybook. Everything was so beautiful that he knew, he would never forget. His eyes turn when the doors to the church open. His brothers walking in with your friends. Yoongi wore a white tuxedo whilst the rest wore black. He was going for a non-traditional style because of your wedding dress. 

Yoongi hadn’t seen it, but he had heard you describe it. You hadn’t seen his tuxedo, but you had heard him describe it. Both parties move inwards, each smiling in his direction. Yoongi was lightly bouncing on the balls of his feet, the ever so monster of anticipation continuing to sink its teeth into his back. As your last friend, Blythe, moves to her spot the waiting really started to stab him. 

The bridal chorus plays, and the wooden doors open again. In that split second it had seemed like Yoongi’s soul left his body. There you stood, the dress fitting your every curve, your makeup bringing out the best parts of your face. Your eyes light and your hair framing you. You held onto your father’s arm as you confidently walked forwards. 

Yoongi saw you with your heels walking around the apartment. He knew how you weren’t comfortable in them, yet in this moment he couldn’t describe you. Every memory flood through his mind, sending his emotions all over the place. It hadn’t occurred to him he was crying until he felt his hot tears against his cheeks. 

He brought a hand up, swiping the tear away, only to be replaced by others. When your father stopped at the end of the pews, Yoongi stood there. Never breaking eye contact as the pastor spoke. When he was ready, his words came out in a choke. He takes a few steps down, thanking your father, then reaching to take you. 

In his grasp, you stood firm. Your hands were shaky because you had never seen Yoongi like this. You wanted to wipe away his tears, reassure him that everything was alright. And yet, just by looking at you he knew. He knew that you were his everything and nothing, God damn it nothing was going to change that. 

The ceremony itself was long, or at least to the couple it was. It seemed as if they just wanted the pastor to say the words and run into pure happiness. Yoongi’s eyes never left yours, and you ever left his. The world surrounding you was gone, and you were just left looking at him. Gazing upon his beauty. When you mentioned to your friends earlier that week, how you got lost in Yoongi’s eyes, you weren’t kidding. 

It was like you were swimming in a pool of chocolate. The warmth captivating your heart and sending chills throughout your veins. How his eyes twinkled under the sunlight and became crescents when he laughed. They were, the most important and your favorite aspect of him. 

The vows were taken quickly as both of you didn’t write anything. Instead, you both knew how you felt inside and didn’t want to share it. Instead, you took the traditional vows. Filling them with love and passion. Yoongi went first, reaching down to take the ring from your cousin. 

He slips the silver metal onto your right hand, bringing it up to place a sweet kiss against. You flushed at the sight, breaking eye contact for the first time as you couldn’t look at him head on. You followed afterwards, taking the ring and slipping it on his right hand. Just like he did previously, Yoongi brought your hand up to place a kiss against your fingers. 

The pastor says a few ending comments, then as it comes out to you, mumbles “You may kiss the bride.” 

Yoongi didn’t hesitate. Instead, he lifts the veil, pushes it back, then dances his fingers against your waist. He pulls you in, capturing your lips in a passion filled kiss. Yoongi arches your back, pressing you against his chest as the world once again leaves you. His lips soft and his hands firm. Yoongi didn’t want to let you go, he didn’t want you to leave that world with him. Sadly, the only thing that brought you back was both Taehyung’s loud ass yelling and Hoseok’s clapping. 

Yoongi breaks apart his expression soft. He brings a hand up to press the back of his fingers against your cheek, leaning in and kissing your forehead. “I love you Mrs.Min Y/N,” he whispers his words swelling your heart as the first time today, you cried. 

“I love you too Mr. Min Yoongi,” your fingers tightening around his jacket tugging on him. He realizes that it was time to walk down the aisle to start the party. Leaving you to cling on him as one thought crossed your mind: 

You were finally in paradise with the one you now called husband. 

#littlemeowmeowschimmy #bangtanarmynet #bts #bangtan #bts imagine #bangtan imagine #bts reader insert #bangtan reader insert #min yoongi #min yoongi x reader #bts min yoongi #bangtan min yoongi #bts fluff #bangtan fluff

[lexiseigneur]

Chapter thirteen: Home

The house was surprisingly luxurious and Lexi was certain a collaborator high in their hierarchy lived there. She perused the freezer and packed her cooler. The contents of the boxes and bags were not important, only that they were frozen. Blood needed to stay cold so she had burglarized occupied habitations often. With her new abilities, it was a trivial task.

The Dhampir’s body had finally settled. When she managed to catch her reflection in a mirror or in a window, she had noticed how scar-like patterns now adorned her throat. They were far less textured than those on Quinlan’s skin. Her hair had not fallen, it had grown at preposterous speed. The new growth was pure white but at least still wavy. Both her teeth and nails had turned dark, like his. Her central incisors had changed shape and now appeared very sharp.

After her encounter with Laura and Emily, Lexi had thought long and hard about the men she had murdered. Months prior she had questioned whether Quinlan’s mind lacked humanity and now she questioned whether she had lost too much of hers. Had she been human and only armed with a Beretta, would she have taken their lives? She swallowed with difficulty every time this question arose. Now that she could inflict death with the fleek of a hand, had she lost perspective? Without forgiving her actions, she told herself that she had prevented those men from hurting others in the future. Then slowly she came to terms with the fact that monsters did not contemplate the morality of their actions.

How long had it been since she had taken the road? More than two weeks for sure. Quinlan was constantly changing course, jumping from city to city without apparent goal. It was difficult to keep up. Sometimes she needed to plunge inside her head several times per hour to follow. Frustration was getting to her and so was thirst. Her blood reserves were quickly diminishing and she had started strictly rationing. Despite the constant ache in the back of her throat, she only drank what was needed to run.

What was Quinlan possibly doing? Slowly, she was getting closer but not fast enough. What if he found the Master and ended up killed because he was alone? Imagining that possibility always made her snarl.

Every time she retreated into that limitless space only populated by hers and Quinlan’s souls, she pondered its nature. She did not float in smooth blackness, but in the grainy grey, one saw in the total absence of light. Quinlan had told her about the mental link which shackled the Strigoi to the Master. It was the reason why he had always been so adamant about remaining hidden. The other Ancients also shared such connection with their progeny. Was this place a lesser version of that bond? The Master could see, hear and smell through his children but all she had was a drop of brightness hovering ahead. Still, she was grateful every time she spied it. It meant Quinlan was still alive.

A week later, she arrived on the outskirts of Sante Fe. In the basement of an empty house, she peered inside the cooler. A single bag of blood rested on top of useless melting items. Lexi chuckled, then as she emerged herself in the vastness, she laughed out loud. Quinlan’s beacon was there, so very near and completely still. Like her, he waited for the midday sun to falter. When the ochre light shone, she left her belongings behind and went to finally meet him anew.

Quinlan had given up on anything that made him part human. Violence was his days and his nights. Strigoi were chasing him again but this time, he very much wanted them to. The Dhampir was fed and completely healed. He could slice through them for hours at a time. Two weeks prior he had even removed the metal staples from his side and the scar would soon fade into nothing.

Tall buildings surrounded him and the streets echoed with the slashing of his sword. The twilight glow covered the cityscape with grey. Today it was only ten creatures and he knew that it would leave him thirsting for more. Lexi’s scent smacked his face every time the shirt he had tucked into his belt caught the wind. Loud cracks resonated unexpectedly. Gunfire. Quinlan braced himself for the pain of bullet impacts. It did not come. The Strigoi dropped one by one, each with a neat hole to the head.

The Dhampir stood alone surrounded by dead prey. His prey. The stinger rattled angrily and he glared around. A hooded figure on a nearby roof was lowering a gun. It turned and walked out of sight. This one had stolen his kills. Quinlan sped to the entrance door, punched it open and climbed the stairs all the way up in seconds. Irrational anger made him kick the door much harder than necessary. The metal panel flew, cleared the roof and landed noisily in the street below. The thief was leaning on the brick wall and looking at the still skittering object. He was not even paying attention. No…she. The thief was a woman. Her smell made him rumble with hatred. Strigoi tang. Was that one of the Master’s minions toying with him?

“Where is your Master, you vile creature?” He asked and advanced with his arms wide.

He would enjoy killing it very slowly. Those special ones, who got to keep their cursed consciousness, he despised them. Quinlan sheathed his bone-hilted weapon and wound his muscles for an explosive burst of power. Breaking the thing’s legs seemed like the best way to start. He sprang and the new prey did the same. Quinlan was blindsided by its speed. It whirled past him and as it did, something tugged at his belt. No! It now stood by the door frame, holding the shirt to its face and stealing the precious perfume.

“That is mine!” Quinlan snarled.

The thing raised a finger and moved it from left to right as if correcting a child.

“No. It’s very much mine.”

The voice was low and velvety. That voice was warmth and the highlight of his dreams. His heart broke, for this was Lexi’s corrupted body. The Master had found her and in his exquisite talent for sadism, had kept enough of her intact to hurt him deeper than ever before. She removed her hood and the Dhampir’s jaw dropped open. Dark waves brushed her shoulders but turned white under her ears as if only bleached at the roots. Awfully familiar stripes marked her pale face. But her eyes as she walked closer, her eyes were still of this strange color between green and brown. Nothing made sense. This visage was not Strigoi, it looked like his. Despite his confusion and overwhelming distress, as she stepped closer and closer all he could think was: I am home.

“No, it’s very much mine.” Said Lexi.

Why was Quinlan carrying her former smell across the country? Was he luring the Master away from the compound? She swallowed with difficulty, grateful for his effort but still resenting him for his actions. His face had changed from smugness to unbearable pain. Of course, she should have expected as much. Lexi lowered her hood so that he could see her face. Do you see, my Quinlan? Dhampir, not Strigoi. He had seen and now his mouth hung open and he was shaking his head. With each step, she walked deeper into the glow of his soul. Their lights touched and mixed. At that contact, she inhaled deeply. It was stepping into a hot bath after a cold winter day. It was crossing the threshold of her house after a long work trip. It was falling asleep in Quinlan’s arms after they had made love. It was belonging. Home. His eyes shut and he cocked his head. He could feel it too.

“How?” He breathed.

Quinlan dropped to his knees. She stepped between his outstretched arms and held his face against her chest. The powerful arms squeezed her waist. One day, she would make him pay for his mistakes but not today. Under her fingers, his skin no longer felt feverish. Neither did his lips when she kissed him. His hold tightened and before her change, it would have hurt but not anymore.

“We have to go. Follow me.”

More Strigoi would eventually come. His grip did not loosen. With a heavy heart, she peeled him off. When he stood, his eyes were glassy and his brow furrowed. Lexi kissed him again, a light peck, then sprinted away. Just outside the city limits, in the suburbs, she led him where she had spent the previous midday. During their short trip, she had to wait for him to catch up several times. With a musical giggle, she realized that she was slightly faster than him. As she peered ahead, her eyes identifying the next spot for her feet to strike, the vastness in her mind pulled at her focus. There was something else in that bond. Something not yet unlocked. Her concentration shifted to it and she stumbled. Quinlan managed to catch her and she slammed against his chest. Laughter boomed out of his throat.

“You need practice.”

Considering the novelty of her abilities, this was an understatement. But at that moment she did not care, they were seconds away from shelter. The thing in the limitless space was becoming uncomfortable and she wanted to explore it without being so exposed. Lexi grabbed his hand and guided him through the last street, inside the house and down in the windowless basement. There, she collapsed on the large couch where a family had once enjoyed movie nights. A huge flat television screen covered most of the wall opposite the staircase. That closed part of the Bond was wrong. Unnatural. It could not be. Vaguely, she felt Quinlan sitting next to her and talking. But she was floating in her own mind, in the warmth of his soul. She reached and it pushed back. That was driving her to the edge of insanity. It was akin to observing a pencil roll off a table only to shoot up to the ceiling instead of dropping to the floor. Non-sensical and disturbing. Mentally, she retreated, as if giving herself space to jump. With all her might, she charged at the cocoon of light. The shock of the impact against that rock-solid resistance snapped her back to reality. Quinlan was holding his forehead and breathing heavily.

“Why are you blocking me?” She whimpered.

The wrongness was his doing because when she touched him, he rejected the contact. He took her shaking hands and pressed his brow against hers.

“I had not comprehended it was you until now. Only the Ancients and the Master had ever contacted me in that way.”

Lexi was floating in the dark pool again. She reached for his soul. They connected into a flash of heat which sent a ripple of contentment through her body.

 “I am so sorry, Lexi.”

She grinned. The voice was his, but devoid of any Strigoi rumbling. The unspoken words rang clearly inside the Bond. Her smile widened at imagining the panic her former self might have experienced at hearing another voice in her mind.

“I can hear you.” She thought.

Quinlan kissed her and buried his face against her neck. It tickled the very sensitive skin.

 “What happened? How did you change?”

Memories rose in the vastness and she let them flow to him. Images flashed in quick succession and she imbued them with meaning as she passed them along. The jar of bullets containing his blood rolled between her fingers. Desiccated Strigoi remains and their revived parasites floated in a jar. Tubes rotated inside a small device. She sliced at her own flesh.

Quinlan winced.

The tests had brought her the answers. Lexi sobbed at leaving her human life behind when she infected herself. Lexi was BURNING.

Quinlan chocked and griped at his own throat.

“Why would you do such a thing?” He whispered through clenched teeth.

The luminous bond was still there and she poured more of herself in it. White blood and saline spread on the floor just outside the elevator. Wet footprints led away from it and she turned around to follow them. Quinlan’s own face, cold with determination and the prick of the needle. Lexi fought furiously against the familiar helplessness. It was a betrayal. The Dhampir’s face was overwhelmed with sadness as she opened the dark room in her mind. Lexi took everything, her rage, her love, her heartbreak, and pushed it all away. Then she made a calculated assessment. Her fingers found the recent wound and inflicted agony. The pain in her neck turned intense and her muscles went limp. Through all of it, the cursed vulnerability and the desire for strength.

Quinlan’s body was shaking.

 The plan they had devised was coming to a close. She imagined finishing the mission. As equals. No longer dominated by fear and no longer dominated by Quinlan. No more helplessness. Ever.

“Do you hate me?” He thought.

“No. But I did.”

It was unkind but in the Bond, there could be no lying or half-truths. Her companion pulled away from her and clutched at his chest. Quinlan’s anguish was torture. She had no desire to hurt him any longer. Lexi fumbled for another recollection and gifted it to her dear one.

 Quinlan stood in dimness. It was impossible to make out his face especially through her tears. Warm fingers wiped away the wetness on her face. Not in a practical manner, but with tenderness. It was affection and Lexi’s heart was swelling with hope. As he brushed his lips against hers, she still doubted what it meant. Desperate for confirmation, she took a leap of faith and was rewarded with joy.

Quinlan relaxed. As they basked in the softness of that memory, a low purr emanated from both of them.

The Dhampir could see through the very eyes of his beloved. The sensations, the feelings and even his own taste on her tongue took over his senses. Spoken words now appeared so archaic. Limitations of another era that he wanted to shed like an old skin.

“I want you.” Quinlan thought.

Lust demanded, more akin to a need than a desire. Lexi held him tighter but her worry tasted bitter in his soul.

 “What if you end up disliking that new body?”

“Never.”

That sharing of thought did not allow for deception and he relished that openness. Quinlan explored her and marveled at the changes. Lexi’s perfume was similar to the lemon jam she used to make. Relief washed through his entire body because as he breathed in the scent of her skin, the thirst did not come. For the first time since his first clumsy and frustrating embrace two millennia prior, he did not fear hurting the other. White fingers dug into equally white flesh without harming. Self-consciousness at his Strigoi voice was futile as she also made no effort to stifle her own. Neither shied from what appeared natural. The small claws of her stinger dug into his shoulder and it felt right.

“Yes. I am yours.”  He told her.

The inhuman snarls of her release scratched at something deep in him. She pressed herself tightly against his body and his last rational thoughts vanished. He found himself on all fours, her back writhing against his chest. Their fingers were intertwined but it was insufficient. As he pressed his brow on her head, his stinger closed around the delicate nape. Lexi shuddered in delight.

“MINE.”  Quinlan roared in his head.

He moved harder than he had ever done before during those passionate moments. The liberation felt like gleefully going insane. Pleasure coursed through his body and through that bridge between their souls. Nothing else compared to that bliss.

Quinlan wanted to stay in that basement forever. He was content for his world to be limited to Lexi’s body and mind. Missing her had been a constant weight that he had dragged through the country. Her change and the resulting Bond it had created between them had been blessings he did not think he deserved.

“Why is your hair that way?” He asked.

 “It did not fall, it just grew colorless. It grew very fast.”

Their metabolisms ran high and that seemed to include hair growth. As strange as it was that she still possessed such an attribute.

“Your eyes, your stinger. They are different.” He continued.

 “Yes. I do not know if it is because I am a woman...”

Knowledge of sexual dimorphism and various examples of birds and fish accompanied her unspoken words. Quinlan cringed. Memories were warmed with feelings but those facts were cool and sharp. It was bizarre to be imbued with insights without earning them.

 “Or because I am not like you. I am not Born.”

 “No…you are Reborn.”

Lexi grinned, amused by that expression. Power had been thrust upon him accidentally just before his birth. His beloved had reached bravely for that power and taken it. Quinlan prided himself that such a woman would love him.

“Have you ever experienced this thing… the Bond?” She asked.

 “No, I have not. I never knew that such coupling was possible. The Ancients and the Master would speak directly in my mind but only if I allowed it. Very young I learned how to close off that sense at the attempted Master’s intrusions.”

 “Isn’t our bond what Strigoi share with the Master?”

“Their link and ours is, I believe, fundamentally different.” Quinlan shared.

Hungry for her, he was detailing every feature of her face. He traced the stripes, marveling at the myriad of shades hiding within them. The new earrings he also quite enjoyed because they highlighted the graceful shape of her ears.

 “How so?”

 “Their bond is a prison, ours is a home.”

Her gaze drifted in deep thought and she slowly nodded. Shallow swirls rested above her collarbones and he caressed them as well. Lexi shuddered and quickly took his hand away.

“Are yours also that sensitive?” She asked.

 “Excessively.”

She smiled. Quinlan wanted to kiss her again but she pressed a finger across his mouth to stop him.

 “We have work to do, my Quinlan.”

But he did not want to think about it. In fact, so far he had successfully managed to push all those problems away. Her words had sprung a revolting realization forward. Quinlan held her tight and whimpered into her hair. What complete fool he had been at rejoicing at her transformation. So deluded.

  “Quinlan?”

His heartbeat was ringing in his ears. When she held his face and he saw the familiar stripes on her skin, he grimaced. Quinlan chose memories and arranged them anxiously so she would comprehend his distress. The Master had to die. There could remain no way for him to rise again and she had given him the solution as he made the silver coffin. When the small metal box enclosing the crimson worm exploded in an inferno of molten rock, the Master would be destroyed just like the Ancients had been. Connected by his blood, his progeny would follow including Quinlan and…

“Me. I understand.” She said very weakly.

The Dhampir buried his face against her chest because he did not want to lose this. He did not want her to perish. The cruelty of finding true belonging, only to have it taken away was tearing him apart. Quinlan was no longer ready to die. Lexi’s fortitude was the only thing keeping him from giving up. The mental embrace forced him to stand up and do his duty.

#quinlan #mr.quinlan #the strain #the strain fx #the strain fanfic #the strain fanfiction #quintus sertorius