#this is more rambling territory but I really can’t tell if they’re going for 4 arcs following the pattern of fours in this show

[chlothequeen]

Bees obtained

#rwby #bumbleby #personal #I know they made IQ figures but I kinda want Atlas arc figures tbh #or new figures once the series reaches its final arc maybe #this is more rambling territory but I really can’t tell if they’re going for 4 arcs following the pattern of fours in this show #or maybe 5 that are comparable to acts #and I’m not sure which I’d prefer #being in the endgame of the series or being at the halfway point

[austajunk]

Please PLEASE go into detail about how protective he is over Chiaki!! I literally am begging to finally hear someone else actually acknowledge their friendship/relationship especially after having to deal with a pretty toxic anti-bi/pan Nagito rper I was on a server with for a good part of a year! (Sorry went kinda ranty but hopefully my anguish is understandable!)

Oh my lord, you’re giving me a chance to shine with my fixations?! I can’t thank you enough! Now, please understand that this is based on my perception of the series as I’ve played through the second game twice. I’m pretty good when it comes to being the person who has unpopular opinions and ships and I know claiming that Nagito is bi/pan/Demi is probably one of them. But honestly, it comes from the desire to see this boy get as much love as possible. Because he sure needs it.

Ultimately, Nagito’s sexuality is never canonly specified, so I think whether gay, bisexual, Pansexual, or what have you, we’re all well within our rights to just have fun and see what we want to in a really flawed and relatable character. And that’s what makes it interesting.

That being said, let’s talk about Nagito and Chiaki. Friendship or romantic, I don’t think you can deny that Chiaki is at least special to Nagito in some way.

Upon replaying the second game, I’ve realized how protective Nagito actually is towards Chiaki interestingly enough.

In chapter 2, she leaves to go question Fuyuhiko but Nagito stops her and tells her not to let Fuyuhiko get rough with her. Every time Chiaki’s skills help them advance, he deeply praises her. Even after he’s stopped praising all the others (which he does mostly after Chapter one, hinting he does not like some of them as actual people). But for some reason, especially during the trials, Nagito is quick to jump in and mention how wonderful Chiaki is and compliment her (only to be usually cut off by someone when he starts to ramble).

It should also be noted that Chiaki and Nagito both share an appreciation for games. Nagito seems to like more luck-based games for obvious reasons, but he also mentions that like Chiaki, he likes the Twilight Syndrome series. Both of them similarly state that they felt Monokuma was butchering a favorite game of theirs.

They also both have an odd way of trying to cheer Hajime up and joke with him, the examples shown coincidentally beside one another. Chiaki says she’s gonna look for a dirty book, throwing Hajime off and Nagito “jokingly” tells Hajime to lick his boots and now to him, but Hajime is extremely put off when he claims it was a joke. These oddballs get each other in the weirdest of ways is what I’m saying. They’re both incredibly antisocial, but their hearts are reaching the same place too when they try to make an effort.

In chapter 4, when Chiaki teams up with Nagito and Kazuichi, then leaves because they’re both being clingy, Nagito quickly follows and chases after her to make sure she’s okay. Then he chastised her for running off, looking deeply concerned. Even after his attitude change, he will answer her more directly and not ignore her. When she tells him to be quiet, he politely obeys... or maybe it’s because he’s deep in thought about her motives as he mentions he was watching the trial carefully to decide on who the traitor is.

I may just be mentioning this because they’re my OTP, but if you know about their school time together and pay attention to Nagito’s Hope versus Chiaki’s Hope, I think it’s fascinating.

Okay, now let’s head into Danganronpa 3 territory. Now this is the part where I am the most shaky as I’m still trying to determine what I take canon from this series. The thing is, a friend who got me into the series informed me that the production was way rushed and that Kodaka never wanted to do the anime in the first place. But! That being said, Chiaki and Nagito have some great moments in this and the anthology comics along with it, so let’s get into some stuff.

First of all, Nagito warmly mentions that Chiaki being their class rep makes her the true Hope of their class. And you can tell he’s serious because as he’s saying it, he’s doing that thing where he’s staring at his hand desperately like he wants eat it. You know the look.

Moving on, it’s clear that aside from Chisa, Chiaki is the only one to value and treasure Nagito. And this makes sense. In her own dying words, she loves her classmates. They are the world to her. All of them. And of course, she loves Nagito too with all her heart. As evidenced as she cradled him protectively in her arms while he’s injured. At first when Chiaki and the others are determined to stand up to Junko and get their teacher back, Nagito pleads with Chiaki not to. That his luck could not overcome them. He knows they can’t win in this situation and I do think he was actually trying to talk Chiaki out of it. But of course, when Chiaki pushes back and says she wants to go anyways, he literally can’t help himself when it comes to wanting to see Hope shine. So he agrees and praises her again because of course he does.

Until it all leads to the Pain Train with Despair coming out on top. Chiaki is brutally slaughtered and we see something new from Nagito. He breaks down crying. Tears are streaming madly down his face as a forced and twisted smile appears on his lips. He even beseeches Chiaki’s name. “You understand right? You know you’re a stepping stone for Hope!” “What has been done to Nanami is unforgivable...” Nagito’s already trying to cope. To rationalize something horrible that he just witnessed in his mind. He’s trying to protect himself as he’s utterly being destroyed and breaking down like all of his classmates. Chiaki’s death literally shatters his mind. It’s a pretty well done scene even if I’m not a big fan of the brainwashing stuff. Not to mention, the way he says “You understand right, Nanami?” As if he’s begging for her forgiveness as he falls apart. It’s so very very tragic. And of course, when being made apart of the Neo World Program, his desire to see Chiaki once more, just one more time like his classmates, brings her back to him(and the other classmates) in AI form.

Honestly... it’s pretty beautiful. Chiaki is apart of Nagito in some way and is imprinted into his mind and heart. He longed to see her as much as everyone else. This person, who doesn’t seek out relationships because his luck either gets them killed or he finds their Hope to be too weak, has a connection with Chiaki like that. This is literally a person who believes his life is just a stepping stone for better and more worthy people, someone who knows their existence is a formality at this point. And still, he does have connections. There are people capable of caring about him and loving him and Chiaki was one of those people. And he wanted to see her again in the Neo World Program. Like Chiaki said, it’s no less than miracle.

But alas, this is getting rather long, isn’t it? Well in the D3 anthology, Nagito also is concerned when Chiaki avoids eating because of her hyperfixation on gaming. Chiaki skipping out on self care?! Not cool, Chiaki. And so he challenges her to a game to make sure she’ll eat lunch. Fucking protective as hell. And yes yes, the anthology isn’t canon... but that’s the thing about Danganronpa. The series is over. Any additional info and stuff added to it is meant to enrich the experience for the fandom, so it’s canon to me. What’s the fandom gonna do? Whine at me and tell me it isn’t? That Nagito wouldn’t do these things when official anthologies and content that’s sold for Danganronpa tells me he would? So... yeah.

Ultimately, whether you ship them or not, I think this fandom is missing out on the Komanami side of things and how good their relationship is when you really observe it. :3

#danganronpa #chiaki nanami #nagito komaeda #komanami #komahinanami #hajime hinata #me: I want to give the Komanami and KomaHinaNami and Nagito is Pan/Bi crew everything they want!! #I hope my rambles suffice! #and I’m sorry you had those fandom experiences #I rp and I love playing a bi and pan Nagito so hit me up sometime

[dallonm-archive]

HOW TO SWALLOW MATCHSTICKS | SHORT STORY UPDATES #5 & COLLECTION INTRO

[image description: a pale orange sky with dark orange clouds. In the middle, in white text, reads “HOW TO SWALLOW MATCHSTICKS”. /end id]

Hello y’all! Since I already mentioned this briefly, and I’m in a really good place with it, I thought I’d quickly actually introduce my collection title and talk about what it’s about!

Originally, I was going with the working title “How I Break My Bones”, but I didn’t like that the “I” suggested a singular POV in a title for the collection. Whilst brainstorming titles I came up with the line “I swallowed your matchsticks but you still set me alight” and was like what the fuck, that sounds like a poem line [I didn’t wrote poetry back then :)] but I loved the imagery so I just! Smacked them together! Also matchsticks apparently matchsticks are poisonous and that really enhanced the meaning. Funnily enough, the fact that matches start fires isn’t central to the title; fire isn’t an important image in the collection (except for one story), however burning is? But the burning imagery usually comes from mentions of sunlight rather than actual fire, which I think is very interesting and fitting for the collections Vibe.

I’m letting the collection grow thematically with the stories I write, but the central idea is self destructive behaviour, and decisions that are very very irrational to literally anyone except the main character(s). Some of them get to this from being pushed to their limit, but for others there’s a more continuous sense, that what we see is just part of a chain of self destructive behaviour that’s their normal. Lemon Teeth especially is interesting in that sense because there’s this general idea of “hey how the fuck are these two still alive”, whereas with, Tabby, the narrator is pushed to a limit they’re not even aware of until there’s consequences. The title plays with this idea of self destructive behaviour that’s actually out of defence: someone swallows matchsticks so they can’t be burnt, but the matchsticks poison them (the severity of that is also dependent on how many you swallow! I think my google history is really concerned that I’m eating matchsticks!). Your perception of reality tells you to do this irrational action so one consequence can’t happen, but you snap back into reality and realise the consequence of that action is actually far greater than the original fear, but it’s too late to reverse it. Also! A lot of WLW/femme NB characters is the goal, on the grounds of Haha I Do That. 

I try to keep this collection very fluid where all the stories are very individual, but are similar when it comes to core themes and it’s been very fun to develop! I also feel like visually this collection is very orange and red? Do NOT know what that means yet <3 but a lot of the stories are visually very hazy and sometimes dreamy, but the content itself is very dark. I’ve been playing around with this idea of “injecting” haziness into a narrators POV so their perception of reality warps and intensifies as the story progresses and we end up in High Reality Territory. I’ve talked about some of these before, but I’m going to go through the current stories I have in here in their current order under the cut - mainly because I find it very interesting to actually see them all in one place and how they function as a collective, and also to see how much it changes!  I also won’t have a taglist for this WIP, as I just use my general taglist for short story updates, so if you want updates then you can join that!

general taglist ; ask to be + or -! @kowlazovdi @avi-burton-writing @ryns-ramblings @kitblogsthings @ezrathings @aetherwrites @radiomacbeth @bijouxs @bookphobe @haldimilks @alicewestwater @bookpacking @shaelinwrites @harehearts @amnestys  @onlyganymede @theelectricfactory @write-like-babs @oceancold @veiliza @sidhewrites @wolf-oak @feverdreamwritings @oasis-of-you @coffeeandcalligraphy @cecilsstorycorner @howdy-writes @keira-is-writing @flip-phones​

content warnings for the stories in order that they appear: murder (ammonite) / fire (lemon teeth) / car accident (how to relax on class A) / toxic relationships (the name i gave her) / cults (and saturn, too + church mud). nothing is talked about in detail.

Disclaimer: These stories are my original work - plagiarism and any form of copying will not be tolerated.

[image description: two large rocks in the ocean, with waves crashing over them. in the middle, in white text, reads “AMMONITE (LAND’S END)”. /end id]

After finding washed up bones on the beach, Dennis pretends they belong to his missing wife Melody - and as he continues to talk to her, his innocence is brought into question.

This story means a lot to me because it was the first one I drafted post writing hiatus that felt like it actually resonated with the way my writing has changed. It was one of the easiest first drafts I’ve done, and editing is going pretty smoothly as well! I loved playing with the moral ambiguity element and creating this very eerie balance between “cold blooded killer” and “grieving husband” and as the author! I do not know whether he actually killed his wife or not! This is one of three stories that I should start submitting this month. 

[image description: a black background with 4 lemons in the centre - 3 whole, one cut in half. In the middle, in white text, reads “LEMON TEETH”. /end id]

A house narrates the night its inhabitants burn it to the ground, and tries to understand the human condition from their toxic, tangled relationship.

I drafted this after Ammonite and it ~sucked~. I went to edit in January because I wanted to submit it to a magazine ( <3 missed the deadline <3) and ended up rewriting the whole thing and it is SO much better. It’s gotten quite surrealist but I’ve never written surrealism so I don’t want to call it that yet? But I mean, some of the imagery + the fact that the narrator is a house experiencing complex thought is v surrealist! I want to fine tune that element more because when it comes to submissions I’ll need to actually determine whether it’s surrealism or not but I’m very excited to because out of all the stories this is the one I want published the most! I love it so much. I loved turning a bunch of wood into a character (they’re so sarcastic and mean?? love it), and Lawrence and Frances are perhaps one of THE most fucked up relationships I’ve written so far <3 

[image description: a silhouette of a cat against a dark orange background. In the middle, in white text, reads “TABBY”. /end id]

A reclusive man who’d rather exist as a phantom than a human notices the neighbours aren’t feeding their cat, and is sucked into a world that breaks the stillness of his own.

This is the only story here that has an update post that’s not outdated so you can check out more about this story HERE. In hindsight, I think this is the one that really drove where this collection is going the most; I had a lot of different thematic ideas in my head and drafting this naturally organised my thoughts and highlighted the most important ones to me. This also really helped me figure out the perception of reality in this collection and that’s also a central idea (and one of my favourites to explore). I’ve always said I love writing things that feel hazy, feel dreamy, but this story took that took a new level and I feel there’s a lot more depth now? Tabby felt neither like high realism nor realism,  it felt like reality with this “glow” that only the narrator seemed to be aware of. This glow reels the narrator into this dreamlike perception of reality to the point where he can’t distinguish the real world from his perception of it, and ends up doing things that he otherwise wouldn’t do had he had a clearer perception of what’s going on. It’s like dreamy reality: make it insidious! I read back on this draft the other day and I’m really excited to start editing, this is the third out of the 3 stories I’m aiming to get published first!

[image description: a single car in the middle of the road on a foggy night, with bright orange headlights. In the middle, in white text, reads “HOW TO RELAX ON CLASS A” /end id] 

Whilst trying to manage a bad trip, our narrator makes an unlikely friendship with the driver who just hit his best friend.

I’m currently drafting this, and will likely make an update post for it soon so I won’t talk to much about the story itself here. But if you want to know how the draft is going: it’s sure going! This is in 2nd person instructional which I’ve never written before and it is very difficult at times but also very fun. I can already tell this is the story that’ll need a lot of fine tuning and editing but I really love the premise and where it’s going. This is sort of an evolution of a short story I wrote in 2019 that sucked <3 but I only got the actual idea for the plot a couple months back. My only complaint right now is I’d like a new title because I don’t like this following the “How to __” structure when the collection already does that.

[image description: A black night sky. In the middle, in white text, reads “THE NAME I GAVE HER”. Below the text is 6 moons in different phases, all glowing yellow. /end id]

A woman tries to see her relationship outside of the rose-tinted glasses the night her and her girlfriend fake their deaths.

I wrote this around October but never finished it, and I think I still haven’t figured out the crux of this story or even how it’s meant to be told but I love it too much to let go and really wanna make it work. This is the first WLW story I wrote that’s like, clearly a WLW couple but it’s not about that, and that meant a lot to me. Like I always knew I could just write WLW characters existing but to actually write that, especially with such emotional complexity and also pain that’s not tied to their sexuality was really freeing for me. Also lesbians really are like “damn I need symbolic imagery in my queer story :/” and just write about the moon like the way this story is JUST a bunch of moon imagery and is also structured around the phases? Very sexy

[image description: the view of an orange and purple sky, with the sun rising behind a darker purple mountain. A tree’s shadow takes up the right side and bottom left corner. In the middle, in white text, reads “AND SATURN, TOO”. /end id]

I haven’t drafted this yet (I plan to after HTROCA) but it’s lived rent free in my head long enough to know I want it in this collection. This story chronicles our main character - an ace lesbian who might not know she’s ace yet?? - as she spends the summer on a commune her parents sent her to and I for one am loving having a second cult-y story to explore (although this isn’t explicitly a cult, it just has the undertones and the narrator makes it very clear how she feels about that). This was originally going to have a romance, but lately I’ve been really into the importance of presenting lesbian and sapphic identities beyond the relationship aspect and the element of personal/individual identity.  Like HTROCA, I want to have a full update post on this story one day so I won’t talk much about it now, but I am currently brainstorming it and I’m! Very obsessed with it!

[image description: a close up photo of an eye rotated sideways. The photo is filtered red and repeated and on the left hand side, flipped the opposite way. In the middle, in white text, reads “CHURCH MUD”. /end id]

We’ll pretend I didnt spend the last month talking shit about this title BUT for those who don’t know the origin story of my novel Revelations, Revelations is that it was meant to be a short story for my dissertation that quickly unravelled into what it is now. Since I’d already presented the concept to my advisor, I decided to turn it into a sort of “RR But With An Alternate Timeline/Inciting Incident” where Felix and Dorothy escaped the cult at the same time, at the height of their conflict and it got fucked up REAL quick. It was actually so fascinating because whilst it was definitely intentionally heightened, it felt like I was exploring both of their “dark rooms”, exploring a possibility that they would both happily ignore, but was very much almost a reality. I’m no longer doing Uni this year because of covid (I couldn’t stand another zoom lecture), so I don’t know if I can use this story next year but I really want to turn it into something. I just have to strip the RR elements from it and turn it into its own - my <3 third cult story <3. 

And that’s where we currently are! I’m not sure if I’ll do collection driven updates, since I just write whatever short stories come to mind and if they fit then great and if they don’t then great, but I might do one say 6 months from now just to see how much it’s changed. This is my primary WIP this year, as 2021 is the ~year of submissions~ for me and hopefully I’ll be able to share some of these stories with y’all soon!

#short stories #atlastracking #wip intro #how to swallow matchsticks #me introducing my collection after roman introduced theirs i am just a SHEEP!!!!!!

[a-la-la-llama]

The One Where Marinette Kicks Butt #7

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5   Part 6   Part 8

  It was a normal day at work, Marinette helped Ivy tend to the plants. Said flowers complained about everything and no matter what, could never decide what music they wanted to listen to to help them grow! After the whole you are not safe without the kwami’s protection, Marinette had to stop Plagg from eating flowers he deemed were cheese. Tikki kept eyeing the aphids and would snack on them when no one was looking. Sass kept coiling his tail too tight around the stems. Nooroo wouldn’t stop drinking the nectars. Pollen was pollinating. Then lastly, Orikko was plucking the daisies petals off one by one. To sum it all up, it was a pretty normal day.

Closing was easy since they didn’t have any last minute orders for the next day. Once the doors were locked, Ivy waved her off and they went in different directions.

  They always closed at six-thirty and were out by seven o’clock. Gotham was beginning to change towards fall in late September, however, so the sun would start setting at seven instead of the usual eight to eight-thirty. Marinette lived fifteen minutes away and was a relatively small stature girl. She also had on her school uniform which meant everyone who saw her knew she was just a teenager. Do you see the problem yet? Can you guess what was bound to happen? Let’s set the scene, shall we!

  Marinette had noticed them when she was walking by and one of the two men brushed her with his shoulder. Even though he was the one to run into her Marinette swiftly apologised and went on her way. She was eight minutes from her apartment and turning a corner when she noticed that they were not far behind her.

The problem was that they had been going the opposite way beforehand. So she tried to do what a normal person without pocket gods would do in this situation. She didn’t want to lead them home so she stuck with the few crowds there, trying to lose them. But night was approaching, slowly fewer and fewer people were out.

Marinette considered going into a coffee shop that was open but what good would that do if they just waited for her to exit. It’s not like she could afford to have a phone and even then she only knew a few people in Gotham. She was just deciding on how to locate a police or fire station when she was yanked backwards by her arm. Into a gosh darn alleyway.

Seriously, if they have the highest crime rates, and most of them happened in alleys, why do they have so many alleyways! Especially dark and dead end ones like where Marinette was standing. A normal person would be terrified but Marinette wasn’t a normal girl, but she couldn’t let them know that. For all they knew, they just cornered   a helpless girl that was scared of the two men twice her size. When really they were the ones who fell into the trap of a powerful god wielding girl with no escape.

“Look who we finally caught, can’t run now.”, the blonde one taughted.

“She almost looks like a Wayne. If we could convince the boss, she’ll be worth a lot more than those other girls.”, the brunette one suggested.

Who was even a Wayne and why did she look like them? Was it the blue hair, she’d never seen others that had a natural blue like her besides her mom and Kagami. It must be her eyes, but lots of people could have blue eyes, especially in America. The blonde pulled a needle out of his pocket.

“Now just make this easy and stay still so we don’t have to hurt that pretty little face of yours!”, he sneered.

Kwami, what were these awful attempts of being intimidating? She’s seen chihuahuas do much better. Plagg’s destructive energy was pulsing through her backpack, along with everyone else but he was the strongest. Why did cats have to be so territorial, she would have to put an end to this before the magic got out of hand. None of them wanted another Pompeii, Atlantis, or Black Death on their hands. She allowed them to inch closer towards her as she started rambling nonsense in French. Better if they thought she didn’t know what was going on, they’re more likely to make arrogant mistakes. The blonde could tell she was overwhelmed and about to bolt so he quickly lunged at her, but she was faster. Next thing he knew, the needle meant for her neck was in his own as he fell unconscious.

Turning towards the brunette, he had pulled out a simple pocket knife. It wouldn’t do anything more than a flesh wound unless he hit a major artery or organ. She didn’t really want to fight the two just, you know, stop them from hurting her.

Taking off her backpack, she swung it by the strap and knocked the weapon out his hands. Tackling him was the next step and she used all of her body weight to keep him down long enough to slam the bag on his head. The egg shaped Kwami box felt like a load of brick. She should know, Marinette had dropped it on her toes multiple times! Just two hits and both her attackers were out cold.

Setting her bag back onto her bag, she stood up and straightened out her skirt. Good thing she didn’t tear any of her clothes or the two would have definitely woken up with black eyes. Marinette heard two feet gently land behind her at the entrance of the alley. Wouldn’t you know it, the blue-bird that Selina had told her about and decided to drop in. Of course, right after she finished dealing with the two herself!

“Je suis désolé de ce que je leur ai fait. Ils essayaient de me prendre mais je n'allais pas laisser ça arriver. Je dois y aller maintenant monsieur!”, she said, still playing the foreign card.

( I'm sorry about what I did to them. They were trying to take me but I wasn't going to let that happen. I must be going now sir! )

“C'est bien petite dame! Êtes-vous d'accord, vous ont-ils fait du mal?”, he answered. Marinette certainly didn’t expect him to know what she had said.

( It's alright little lady! Are you okay, did they hurt you? )

“Je vais bien. Je suis pressé, je dois y aller!”, she announced and rushed past him.

( I'm fine. I'm in a hurry, I have to go! )

  Nightwing looked at what the tiny French left behind. Foreigners sure knew how to get the job done. What was even in that backpack of hers. The dude would surely have a concussion, but in the end he deserved it for trying to kidnap the girl. Gothamites could surely learn a thing or two from people like her. Now the question was what to do with the criminals. He could turn them into the police or inform Red Hood about them. One had mentioned other girls, so Red Hood would be the better option. He could investigate and find the chain and most likely rescue those who weren’t so lucky and already caught. Plus, the man had a soft-spot for any and all kids.

  Nightwing thought back to the French girl. She really did look like a Wayne! Dark hair, blue eyes, seemed to have gotten herself in and out of trouble before. All she had to do was be an orphan and she’d fit the memo. The girl had a Gotham Academy uniform, maybe Damian knew her? Second thought, Damian probably didn’t talk to anybody in that darn school unless he had to, so that was out of the question. Something just wasn’t sitting right with him. He had seen her before but where? No, not her, those eyes. Nightwing had seen those eyes before.

He didn’t know how long he stood thinking in the alley but the realization hit him like a truck.

She was the freaking ghost that stole his favorite blanket!

Tag list

@legallyspawned @chocolate1721 @spartanxhunterx @dreamykitty25 @toodaloo-kangaroo @vixen-uchiha @loveswifi @amayakans @jeptwin @thewonderlandartist @buticaaba @books-and-left-behind-journals @gigibnl @aegyobutpsycho2 @crazylittlemunchkin @maribat-is-lifeblood @myazael @abrx2002 @pawsitivelymiraculous @silvergold-swirl @chaos-inperson @marichatcameback @olynix @ash-amg @elmokingkong @kitsunebell @yin-390 @indecisive-mess-named-me @jeminiikrystal @startouchedqueen1318

#maribat #The One Where Marinette

[sjjdkdkwo]

Thinking about Nick and Stephen again and idk I just feel they’d have such a neat relationship? I know Nick only has like 4 lines in the movie but still. I really want scenarios where they could interact more? Just, anything really? Like—

Nick finds Stephen in an empty room in the hospital, he’d stopped by earlier to see some other friends. He and Nick are still learning how to go about starting something that isn’t intense dislike or scorn for each other, but they’re well off now that they can at least exchange pleasantries. Still it’s surprising to Stephen that Nick has actually sought him out that day instead of letting them run into each other’s paths naturally like normal. So he prepares his usual greeting but stops when he gets a good look at Nick. To say he looks awful would be an understatement, his eyes are sunken and dark, his hair looks greasy and uneasy, and he looks like he hasn’t eat much if at all. Before Stephen would’ve thrown a rude jab at him, and told him to fix himself up before heading to work. But he’s different now, and the sympathy that he once lacked brings him to give Nick a soft but firm hello and a curt nod. Though he’d loathed to admit it at one point, he now sees that he and Nick share the same prideful and independent personality(perhaps why they’d gotten along so poorly before) and he also knows better than to make his concern obvious.

Unlike before however...Nick doesn’t hide his sorrowful state behind and air of superiority and confidence and instead asks Stephen if they can speak in private. He joins him in a more quiet and solitary part of the hospital and waits for Nick to speak. Nick confides in him that he believes he’s being haunted. Stephen narrows his eyes and asks Nick why he’s telling him of all people only for Nick to scoff. He’d seen him portal of one day after he’d finished speaking to Christine, and he’d managed to put two and two together. He knows Stephen can help him, and does something unexpected. He begs Stephen to go to his home with him that night to help keep him safe from the spirit who he believes has become more malevolent. Stephen considers him for a long moment, and after taking in the fear and panic in his eyes, and the slight tremble of his body, he agrees. He feels uneasy as he watches relief flood Nick’s eyes.

Stephen makes it to Nick’s apartment later in the day, and tries not to feel awkward. They’re not exactly friends yet, and usually their prone to not speaking to things beyond medical articles and the weather on occasion. So when Nick lets him in with a smile—his features leased strained and more relaxed than they’d been in the morning—and leads him to the living room Stephen can’t help but feel confused. Shaking any lingering perplexity though he settles in gets started on trying to gauge the energies in the room while trying to keep up with Nick’s newfound desire to ramble on. He’s put off when he finds that...nothing in the apartment feels odd. In fact, there’s nothing there.

He knows by now though that sometimes spirits don’t linger permanently, instead making sporadic visits in between and decides to stick around enough to see if that’s the case. Settling in he takes in Nick’s apartment. It’s nice and well decorated but something about it feels cold and almost unlived in. He lets Nick talk him into picking out music while he prepares dinner(Stephen had given in after enough persistence) and then settles onto the counter to watch Nick work. He won’t offer him help, and he thinks Nick knows that too, not with his hands being the way they are. And while he and Wong had overcome his shame and embarrassment enough to work through meals together some nights, Nick is different, still not yet friend enough even for Stephen to even let his hands settle on the counter out in the open. Nick doesn’t seem to mind though, instead filling in the silence with his own commentary on the culinary arts and Stephen finds himself actually listening to him. Apparently it’s something he enjoys, a sentiment picked up from spending many hours in the kitchen with his grandmother. And as the afternoon goes on, Stephen can admit that Nick is not bad company at all. He even finds himself chipping in to the conversation, enjoying the easy flow that develops between them.

After dinner there’s still no sign of supernatural entities and so he asks Nick when the spirit normally takes to appearing. Nicks goes silent for a second, and Stephen can see him swallow. With a shaky breath he tells him it’s presence is most prominent in the night, and Stephen calls Wong to let him know he’ll be home later than he’d intended. After Nick invites him to sit down and watch television, and though he hesitates at first, Stephen settles down next to him on the couch—leaving a bit of room between them. After deciding on something together the easy conversation picks up again, and before Stephen notices, night has befallen them. He also notices that Nick has gone quiet for the first time since he’d arrived and turns to look at him, assuming he must’ve fallen asleep. But he hasn’t.

Instead Nick looks blankly at the screen in front of him, still and unmoving even when Stephen calls his name. Stephen searches again for any sign of the spirit with not luck in sight. Until he realizes. There is no spirit, and Nick is not being tormented. Not in the paranormal sense at least. Stephen tells him so, and is surprised when Nick nods in agreement, further giving in to Stephen’s uncertainty and he has to ask. “Why did you ask me to come here then?”

Nick doesn’t reply at first. Instead keeping his empty gaze forward as though he hadn’t heard him. Stephen wonders if he didn’t. But before he can answer Nick tells him. After the snap he’d encountered many issues, he doesn’t go into detail, and Nick had been left trying to deal with the aftermath of it all. He admits that it had felt like he’d woken up to a different world(technically they had) with everything he’d known gone or changed. And he’d been alone. Stephen doesn’t have to ask to know that likely means Nick’s close ones are dead. Nick tells him he’d tried at first, and really he had, to adapt and try and catch up. Everyone else had, even through their grief. But through it all he couldn’t, and at the sudden foreign territory his mind had well, shut down on him. He doesn’t even remember how it started or when he’d first noticed something was wrong he says, and the one day, he’d wanted to die.

Stephen lets him go on, a chill settling in the middle of his spine as he takes in Nick’s words. Emotion over flooding him not just for the suffering of another person like usual, but of someone he knows. Nick tells him he’d ask him to come over because the thoughts had gotten stronger, and he hadn’t known if he could trust himself to be alone anymore. He lets out a quiet apology once he’s done, and Stephen’s heart aches at the fact that Nick thinks his sorrow and state of mind are something to be sorry for. Even so, Stephen is aware that a few encouraging words will not be enough, and instead tells Nick not to apologize and asks him if he wants to see a trick. Nicks face twists into confusion but Stephen goes on, brining his shaky hands up, letting Nick see them on purpose—as if to let him know there is no shame in the way he is feeling, in being vulnerable—and with a few movements of his fingers produces a butterfly. Nicks hole face breaks out into shock as he scrambles back and Stephen almost laughs, but stays silent, allowing Nick to lean forward again to stare in wonder and Stephen’s seemingly facile show of magic. The usual questions follow. How did you do it? What is it? Can you show me?

Stephen is happy to entertain every question, carefully watching Nick’s face for any signs of the despair that had been their prior. He knows this won’t fix anything, but that’s not what he’d intended, knows Nick needs to seek proper care an attention. Something unfortunately even Stephen can’t provide. No, what he’d wanted to create was a distraction. A moment for Nick’s mind to not know peace, but to be overtaken by something other than sadness and goes about showing Nick more spells and gestures as the night goes on.

Nick has still not gotten a hold of magic by the time his morning alarm goes off(not that Stephen had expected him to), startling at the sound and looking back at Stephen with astonishment. Stephen only smiles, kind but not pityingly and places a hand on Nick’s shoulder and giving it a soft squeeze.

Waiting for Nick to scurry to get ready, Stephen places a few protective spells around the apartment. When Nick comes out he thanks him for the evening and tells him sincerely that he’d enjoyed himself. And he had. Nick gives him a lopsided smile and agrees before going serious and thanking Stephen. It’s quick and stiff but Stephen can look through it and see all the emotion and sincerity hidden behind it. Smiling he tells Nick to set an appointment with a therapist and to his relief Nick nods. Then he tells him he’ll see him again later that night. In his own home. This time he does laugh at Nick’s shocked face and tells him where to find him. Nick nods dumbly again, thanking him once more and waving him off.

Later he meets Wong, and between the two of them he endures their critiques and chastising on his inability to rely on others even now. But watching Nick laugh about a story from their residency days he thinks he’s ok with it. He’s happy to be a distraction for Nick, and starts to realize that maybe he can be a friend now too.

#just another silly ramble #not really writing tbh so sorry if there’s mistakes #but I just really want to see more of Nick #especially given his impact on Stephen? #wether he likes it or not the fact that Nick #was the one who performed his surgery connects them in some way #I think? #and I’d like to see Stephen think more on that and Nick? #Idk I just think it’d be neat to see #strange thoughts #cw suicidal thoughts

[bugabisous]

signs that adrien “always felt [Marinette] was more than [a friend]” - or: don’t be salty, y’all, the chat blanc confession wasn’t just because she was ladybug. [part 5]

insta likes analysis | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

here i am, yet again, to ramble about my dumb son and his feelings for the one and only: marinette.

we left off the previous part talking about how important marinette is to adrien, and how he always wants her happiness and can’t stand to see her hurt. i’ll start this part with something a bit different, but that i love dearly about this dynamic, and i don’t see it mentioned very often...

buckle up because this one is by far the longest... and also the final one! let’s go!

during feast, when adrien plays the piano with plagg, we see him laughing and very happy, enjoying a moment of pure joy with him. afterwards, he remarks that his mom was “the only one who could make [him]laugh like that” 

but guess what? we have seen him laugh this freely around marinette:

starting from this unforgettable moment during The Umbrella Scene. Look at that baby, he’s clearly full of joy. And moments after he sighs, full of wonder, about making yet another friend. that was one very important moment in adrien’s life. i believe this was probably one of his first moments of genuine connection around someone. he befriends nino earlier, but obviously this moment is way emotionally charged.

in oblivio, she still inspires this feeling of happiness in him. she makes him laugh. and it’s so wonderful.

and she does this even in moments where things are awkward (like in this scene where she stutters and gets so nervous she calls him lame lmao) or the following scene, which we know very well:

look at that ray of sunshine! look at the effect she has in him. he clearly enjoys her company a great deal. 

him walking into the ice rink next to marinette and not next to the girl he’s actually on a date with.

adrien walking out next to marinette instead of, say, his best friend nino. (also, during this ep he really, really doesn’t get why marinette can’t hang out, and he’s clearly disappointed she’s not there because he wants to hang out with her).

oh well, let’s just say that’s just adrien being friends with her. sure. but you know what isn’t exactly just friends territory? the very next scene i’m going to mention. 

so we’ve all watched frozer. we remember that moment when marinette runs to him, we get this Imagine Spot where she confesses to him and he confesses too, etc etc. right after, marinette switches tracks and says that they should hang out at the ice rink again.

“you mean, just you and me?” he asks, with a soft hopeful, downright longing expression in his face. this is not a reaction you have for a friend, i bet his heart was beating out of chest, i bet that for a moment there - even though he had no idea why - he suddenly couldn’t imagine anything better than hanging out one on one with marinette.

“no, of course not!” she says. and his expression isn’t suddenly that soft. he says he’ll try to make time, sure, but he clearly looked way more soft and hopeful in the frame before. interesting, isn’t it?

now, i’ll move on to analyze an episode that is not very well-liked in the fandom. and yes, i do agree that not showing the akuma battle was a bit lazy... and yes, it was a clipshow. but also, there were some important bits sprinkled in there that shouldn’t be missed because they’re pure gold. so, let’s talk about stormy weather 2.

when adrien considers the idea that perhaps marinette is the one who wrote the valentine’s card that he cherishes so much, he dismisses it... and the reasons why are fairly interesting, if a bit sad:

“marinette couldn’t possibly be in love with me,” is what he says. he says it sadly, his face is the picture of heartbreak. somehow the idea that she has no romantic feelings for him is something that saddens him this much. it also ties to adrien’s insecurities. the fandom loves to discuss marinette’s possible insecurities but sometimes adrien’s get ignored. his father doesn’t show him affection or love, his household is cold and unfeeling, and the girl he loves is in love with someone else. i believe that on some level adrien doesn’t think someone could fall in love with him (and i also believe this is a huge reason he does try things with k*gami: he enjoys her company, and thinks she’s beautiful and interesting and he sees the potential, sure. but also: she makes her interest in him very clear).

this scene brings me back to the s1 episode, gamer, where, after saying marinette is amazing, he says he’s “so lame compared to [her]” and that “[she] wouldn’t even need [him]”

he thinks marinette is awesome, amazing, talented, incredibly kind, an everyday hero and an all around wonderful person. in addition to that, she has denied a romantic interest in him when he asked about it. he doesn’t think it possible that marinette could have feelings for him other than friendship... if even that, considering that in puppeteer 2, another episode that gets a lot of bad rep in the fandom, he’s quick to believe that she doesn’t even want to be friends with him:

“marinette doesn’t want to be with me?”

look at his heartbroken face!! look at him. i’m so sad.

“i was afraid you didn’t like me.” this is very telling. because as we all know, marinette’s love language is actions... and adrien’s is words. that abysm (or, dare i say it, that wall) doesn’t allow adrien to see what is so obvious to everyone else. 

“she’s just a friend who loves fashion,” he says, still looking troubled.

“besides...there’s l//uka.”

oh, boy. that sure doesn’t seem like a happy “phew i don’t have to break my friend’s heart by rejecting her” face. now, does it? adrien is clearly not happy about this situation.

why? because he has feelings for her. and, to be honest, a part of me could have just used the following two pictures to make the entire case i made in 5 parts... but where’s the fun in that? 

“i’ve realized that you’re not just a friend to me. i always felt like you were more than that.”

“and now i know why. [...] it means that i love you.”

it’s the very same expression. the only differences between these screenshots are: a) the lightning, b) the fact that mayura’s is a bit more zoomed in, and c) the beret. other than that... no difference. because he is already totally in love with her, he just hasn’t realized it yet.

but he will. 

in the season three finale, part 1, we see that adrien “finally realized that there’s more than one type of cheese in this world,” in plagg’s very eloquent words... right after he gets a notification from a post from marinette. sure, k*gami is there too. but the fact remains that heart hunter goes out of his way to balance out the time he spends with both of them.

he’s changing his target already. 

when marinette says she has to leave, adrien jumps out inmediately, “no, wait!” and then k*gami invites her to “escape with [them]” - this is even more telling if you guys pay attention to the miraculous secrets videos that are uploaded in the official youtube channel. in “k*gami as seen by adrien” we have the following quote:

“maybe it’s time to change targets. we’re attending chl*e’s parents anniversary together soon. i guess we’ll see.” he says in it. and then proceeds to invite marinette along at any possible chance. why would he do that, if he’s trying to change targets if he didn’t have romantic feelings for her? let me tell you: he wouldn’t.

as we all know he looks awestruck by her. he just stops and stares.

look at that. he’s so in love is not even funny.

in this screenshot he’s only holding her hand. 

and then during the infamous ice cream scene, which is his own idea by the way (he just chooses to drag two girls to get romantic ice cream after choosing to try to let ladybug go... he knows what he’s doing - k*gami might not exactly believe in the ice cream thing, but we know from glaciator that adrien does believe in it), both him and k*gami leave the choice in marinette’s hands. she’s the one that steps away.

and he’s not exactly thrilled to see her leave. a part of him was hoping she’d stay. 

that is all, folks! i have no more to say... at least not until season 4. but i’ll end this final part with a cute picture because, well, i have to.

adrien is in love with marinette, pass it on.

#adrienette #adrinette #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculous the tales of ladybug and chat noir #meta #mine

[kurosawa-sun]

Fic First Lines Tag Game

Rules: List the first lines of your last 8 stories (if you have less than 8, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 authors!

Thanks @call-me-origami for the tag! Love you~ Also wow I finally am enough of a fic writer that I can do one of these tags. Also it will only be Cherry Magic fics since that’s literally all of the fics I have published sagdfhasgd

It’s a Golden Time It’s almost the end of April, which means the start of Golden Week and everyone gets time off from work.

Doppelgangers “Yuichi, the new drama is coming on soon!” Adachi rushed to the sofa to turn on the TV.

feel alright It was 4 am on a Sunday morning when Kurosawa woke up without Adachi there.

Yocchi & Yucchi It was the morning after New Year’s Eve and Adachi had spent the night at Kurosawa’s place again.

kimono boy The boy at the shrine on the hill looked remarkably like Adachi Kiyoshi.

and then I’m gonna include the one CM fic I wrote, that at this point, assume that I have orphaned but haven’t gotten around to doing that (not even gotta include the link because I wouldn’t recommend it at all) Help! My Handsome Coworker Just Confessed To Me and I Don't Know What To Do?! “I like you!” shouted Adachi.

And then for the heck of it, gonna include the extremely self-indulgent self-insert what-was-supposed-to-be-multifandom fic that I tried to write when I was like 15? The Adventures of Z Across Spacetime The sun beats heavily on the dusty asphalt. 

Patterns I noticed: They’re all pretty short for one thing, at least three of them start out with setting the time (I seem to have a tendency to start fics with setting the time first). Two of them started with dialogue, and some of them also do the work of setting up the place for the fic. I do have difficulty trying to write interesting opening lines, so I usually end up doing the very utilitarian thing of just setting up the fic. I don’t really have a preference for the length of the opening lines so long as they can hook me in immediately, or if it’s a longer sentence, keep the pacing going.

What I’d like to work on: Tbh I want to improve all of my writing and not just the opening line, I find my prose writing to veer into telling/utilitarian territory most of the time. Which I find very frustrating since I started out as a poet first and I have had way more experience with poetry craft, and I can’t seem to apply that skillset to my prose gah. I’m so used to writing everything in metaphor that when it comes to prose, I really didn’t want it to end up being purple prose because of my poetry background that I went into the opposite direction of telling instead ><

My favourites: I probably like the opening lines for ‘Doppelgangers’ and ‘kimono boy’ best. Doppelgangers is the opening line that starts right in the middle of an action/scene and those are the kinds of opening lines I really like since I like when stuff starts out in media res, it engages me immediately and pulls you into the action. I like the opening line for kimono boy since it makes you ask some questions and those are probably one of the best opening lines. They’re the ones that make you ask questions in the beginning, which gets addressed in the writing that follows, thus engaging the audience from the get go as they ask questions about why is this happening? What is this setting? Who is this character?

I’m too tired to tag, so I’m just gonna leave it. Hope you enjoyed reading my ramblings about my writing, I really wasn’t expecting my thoughts to get so long here.

#tag games

[winterwyrd]

Ok absolutely no one wants this but here we go - Caleb #2 playlist ranked for how absolutely unhinged it makes me to listen to and think about for more than 3 seconds: 

The Mask by Matt Maeson 

This one is a pretty standard opening track, it’s about the level of angst I was expecting from Mr O’Brien with this playlist. Classic Caleb narrative, pain, guilt, deception, burying his old life deep. The lyrics hurt if you listen too hard, but it’s easing us in gently. Solid 6/10. 

Sisyphus by Andrew Bird

For starters: great song, Andrew Bird is wonderful. Again, we’re not in unreasonably feral territory yet. It’s fun to listen to. Liam’s commentary adds an edge to it - hearing ‘let it roll, let it crash down low/There's a house down there but I lost it long ago’ and thinking about Caleb deciding whether to go back and save the home that Brenn left a smouldering ruin hits hard. 7/10

The Harrowed and the Haunted by The Decemberists

This is the reason I made this whole list. Just. Absolutely. Off the fucking charts. I’m not kidding I had it on repeat for three days when the playlist first came out. I cannot begin to articulate why thinking about Caleb and hearing the Decemberists hauntingly sing ‘we beloved of the springtime/we were lions to the light [...] will I always misremember/how we called our kisses bright/will I make this right?’ and ‘this is what you wanted/I'm harrowed and I'm haunted/haunted by the light’ sends me absolutely insane. It added another dimension to how I think about Caleb’s relationship with his past, and it hurts. ‘I will roam and I will ramble/till my heart no longer craves/our brazen days.’ That’s it, I’m out of here. If you need me I’ll be staring at a blank wall for a little bit. 100000/10. 

You’re Mine by Phantogram

To be honest, I’ll take or leave this one. Maybe because I’m still recovering from the previous track. The emotions from it aren’t something I can connect with Caleb and Astrid that well, personally. 2/10 

It’s Alright by Mother Mother

It’s really a good job I had the last song to chill a bit because this tips me straight back over the cliff. Mr O’Brien you owe me for emotional damage. Everything about this song in relation to Brenn/Caleb is agonising and if I think about it for more than 2 seconds I lose it. Liam wanting to say to Brenn ‘It's alright, it's okay, it's alright, it's okay/you're not a monster, just a human/and you made a few mistakes’ is *brain static*. Also, ‘I don't wanna know who I am/cause heaven only knows what I'll find’ hits way too hard for Caleb.  Incalculable/10.

Maybe It’s Time by Bradley Cooper

Establishing a pattern here, this song doesn’t hit me particularly hard, but it does make me sad thinking about Caleb’s relationship with his original plan to fix his past mistakes and the way it’s evolving. It’s a soft song. 4/10

Why Would I Now by The Decemberists

Decemberists again, so instantly high on the unhinged scale. It’s such a bittersweet look at Caleb and Veth’s relationship - ‘I will never be your familiar soul/I will never see your interior whole/but have I ever stood back and watched you fall/why would I now’ sums up everything about them from Caleb’s point of view and I can’t elaborate on what it says about the baseline of trust and support the two of them have established and how desperate Caleb is not to lose it without losing my mind. 10/10 

Im Ascheregen by Casper

Absolute bop. I can’t speak German so I had to translate the lyrics, and then it became an absolute bop that also makes me want to watch as Caleb destroys Trent and his legacy. It’s too focused to rate very high on the unhinged scale, if that makes sense. It makes me want to dance around the Academy’s smouldering ashes. Also, I am dumb and hadn’t realised Brenn was German for fire until this point and that is... I have no words. 5/10 

Everybody Wants to Rule the World by Lorde

This song for the Empire Kids is A Lot. It’s relatively short lol so it doesn’t have as much feral potential as the others, but it’s dangerous and the edge to it perfectly echoes Caleb and Beau’s attitude to the peace and the way it’s balanced on a knife edge. They’re so close but still so far. 7/10

Bet on You by The Man Who

Here we are again lads, off the scale, losing my mind. This is the found family,us against the rest of the world type of shit that we’re all here for and it’s summed up perfectly in this song. ‘After all the hell we’ve been through/I’ll still bet on you’ is the perfect Mighty Nein feeling and it has ended me. 50000/10. 

Change by NF 

No thoughts head empty. Good tune, chance for my brain to re-calibrate, I’m gonna tell myself it’s just about Caleb being a magic lad and move on because I don’t have the emotional capacity to think about it further. 3/10

Arsonist’s Lullaby by Hozier

This was inevitable. No Caleb playlist could avoid this song for long. Hozier is my fav, this song on it’s own sends me into an unhinged headspace, so connecting it to Caleb is just the icing on the cake really. But it’s not a new insight for me, so comparative to the rest of this it’s pretty on the level. 9/10

#cr playlist #critical role #caleb widogast #cr meta #I cannot believe I wrote this out but this has been the contents of my brain for the last week so #this is meaningless to anyone except me but I had to exorcise it somehow

[katherinewilliams221b]

For A Greater Good 7/18

gif not mine just the text

Summary: Kate Williams, young healer and member of the Order, joins Durmstrang's staff at Dumbledore's request. Her mission? Find a Death Eater and survive long enough to tell the story. Set in 1996.

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x ofc

Masterlist

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

[Part 6]

--

Charlie adjusted the collar of his shirt while staring at his reflection in the bathroom’s mirror. Poking his head out of the door that connected to the bedroom, he checked the clock and hurried back into the bathroom to dry his hands with a towel.

He heard a soft bell coming his way and found Grimoire, Kate’s beloved cat, by his feet.

“I know, I know. I still have a few minutes…”

Grimoire hissed in disappointment and disappeared again.

Charlie cleaned the remains of the shaving cream that were left on his jaw and nodded at his work before heading to the fireplace in the living room, where Grimoire was pacing.

He chuckled at the invisible circles that the cat was making. 

With the floo powder in hand, he kneeled next to Grimoire and tried to concentrate on the words that Kate indicated him to say.

Durmstrang’s chimneys were not connected to their home in Romania, but she said to give her two weeks and, in that time, true to her words, found a way to connect them.

“Doorm-strang.” He pronounced, throwing the powder to the logs. The green flames appeared, and he waited for her face to pop out of them.

He rubbed his suddenly sweating hands on his thighs while staring impatiently at the fire. Grimoire had time to spin several times around him, making him consider locking the tedious animal inside his closet. Giving it a second thought, the idea of having to deal with him after that seemed equally, and even more horrible.

“Hey, you” Kate’s voice dragged him back to reality.

He knew he had the stupidest grin all over his face and prayed for the green fire to distortion it a bit. He observed her features: her forehead, her nose, her impossibly long eyelashes, those thin but very well-shaped lips, back again to her moderately thick eyebrows and the gorgeous honey eyes that gazed at him. He couldn’t see her ears, or her neck, probably covered in all of those tangled waves he loved spending hours combing with his fingers. 

His eyes darted back to her lips, now moving again, but he couldn’t identify what they said.

“Charlie? Is there something wrong with your side of the floo? Can you hear me?”

The crinkle between her eyes formed like many times before, and he smiled at it.

“I can hear you, love, loud and clear.”

“How have you been? How are you?” Not even the flames could hide the concern.

“I’ve been better. It’s ah... somehow more difficult being away after living together than... you know.”

He heard how she shifted in her place and tried to get more comfortable.

“I know…”

“I have been busy, though, working, writing, I did some cooking, but it’s infinitely more satisfying doing that for two rather than one.”

Her face lit up with the flames and expanded a little as she leaned in. If he concentrated enough, he could imagine that she got closer to him.

“Did you finish your papers?”

“Not yet, the text is there in my nightstand and I stare at it daily, waiting for it to write itself. Wait, someone wants to see you.”

Kate chuckled, and the flames danced around her when she shook her head.

“That’s not writing.”

“It’s not? Well, maybe I’ll have to plan another strategy, then.” He said equally amused. He lifted Grimoire to the fire level, and the cat mewled in delight, seeing his master for the first time in months. He mewled again, and Charlie had the impression he was telling her his version of the story.

“Hello, Grimoire, is that ginger over there being rude to you? Want me to give him a lesson?”

Charlie huffed and practically threw Grimoire out of his arms, before brushing the hairs out of his sleeves.

“Bloody demon, that poor excuse of a cat of yours.”

“What happened? You’ve never had problems before?” She said with a chuckle.

“It appears we are a tad territorial with your things. I wanted to sleep on your side of the bed these days, and I tried to trick him and put your favourite blanket on the couch, but he won’t have it. He always returns and curls up in your pillow, mocking me.”

“I miss you both, too.”

The light atmosphere evaporated and was replaced by a way too familiar sadness. They had walked this road before, and yet it seemed that it would never end.

Kate gave a sharp inhalation, holding back something that could have been words, tears or both. 

“How did you, ah... get rid of the smoke? Of the fire you said…” Charlie cleared his throat, holding back something that could have been words, tears or both.

“I’m holding my wand up the chimney, vanishing it. Do you know how hard it is to practise ‘evanesco’ on actual smoke?” She chuckled, barely believing how she managed to perfect the spell in just two weeks. “What’s the physical form of... smoke? I have no idea.”

She was just rambling, now. Not wanting to end the conversation, but guilty about not having anything to talk about, or better said, anything safe to talk about.

Charlie puffed out a disbelieving and proud huff at her brightness, and out of pure instinct he stretched his arm to caress her face, immediately regretting his dumb behaviour.

Kate grinned when he brought his fingertip to his mouth to soothe the pain.

“I see some things don’t change, then. Always attracted to the fire.”

Catching her eyes, he was captivated by their sudden shimmer that had nothing to do with the floo powder.

“I like the warm feeling of it.” he whispered.

“You want to be cautious; you might burn.” her voice sounding equally low, and in the silence of the night, it resembled a purr. But it might have been the floo interferences. He chose his words very carefully, selected them to have the desired effect.

“I would happily let the flames consume me.”

Grimoire’s angry hiss covered Kate’s shuddering breath, and she thanked Merlin when Charlie turned around at the cat and didn’t see her face.

She looked up, probably checking her spell, and then behind her before focusing on Charlie again.

“You must go already?” He intended to sound as disappointed as he felt, selfishly wanting her to stay at least one more minute.

“I have a bit of time. There’s plenty of healers here, and night-shifts are relaxed. They will survive without me. Now tell me, are you putting on enough sunscreen?”

Charlie’s entire face brightened at the question and proceeded to tell her the amount of work he’d been putting on the sanctuary.

“Some of my teammates have been asking about you, you know?”

“Really? What did you tell them?”

“That you were on a trip around Europe. I don’t think they believe that. They think we broke up.”

“Stick to the Europe story. It’s pretty accurate, anyway. By the way, are you familiar with the book... uh... The Tales of Beedle the Bard?” Her voice above a whisper.

Charlie was taken aback by the question and answered full of curiosity.

“Sure thing, love. Mum used to read it to us when we were kids. Why the sudden urge to read bedtime stories?”

“Someone recommended it...”

“Wait... you’ve never read it? It’s very famous.”

“I don’t remember there being any children’s stories in my house. Arithmancy books, yes.” As the conversation came to a halt, Kate settled down on the floor, adjusting her arm.

“I hope you’ve been watering my plants...” she threatened after she settled.

“Each and every one.”

“And have you been moving Ypsilon? He likes the sun at all times, otherwise his leaves close up and then he gets mad at me.”

“Plants can’t get angry, Katie,” he let out with a laugh, “and yes, every day; in the morning I put him by the window with white curtains and in the evening on the chairs on the other side.”

“That they can’t get angry, he says. You paid little attention in herbology and it shows.”

“You left me an endless list of instructions for each pot and I’m following them to the letter. If you think I’m not doing a good job, come home and see for yourself.”

The smirk that had planted itself on her face deflated to leave only a sad smile.

“I would love to...”

Charlie’s expression suddenly darkened. He adjusted on the carpet to be more comfortable, but Kate noticed the agitation.  She gave him time to say what he had to say and after a long sigh he spoke again.

“Katie, you’ve been receiving letters... letters from your father.”

“Have you opened them?”

“Of course not. But there’s three of them now…”

“But... Oh, shit.” Charlie frowned and leaned into the fire. “A few weeks ago someone from the ministry came looking for Igor Karkarov,” Charlie’s eyes opened like plates “He must have recognised me. I know he was from my father’s department.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Me? Nothing. Well, my job. The important thing is what you do. Open the letters. Probably he’s just asking why I don’t respond. Send an owl saying I have a lot of work.”

“What if he comes here?” Kate snorted.

“Joseph Williams? Getting his trousers dirty to go to a cabin? Don’t worry, he won’t bother.”

“I’m worried, Kate. What if something happened?”

“All the more reason to read them. Don’t tell me anything, don’t send me anything, I don’t want to know anything. The less traceable, the better.”

“Katie, we’ve been sending each other letters for over a month.”

“I know...” They were silent for a few moments, listening to the crackling of the flames. Kate adjusted her arm again, moving the fire, and inhaled to speak.

“Don’t tell me we should stop because I’ll have a heart attack,” Charlie rushed before she could say anything.

“No, it’s just... things can get ugly real fast and I don’t... I don’t want them to get to you.”

“I’m not the one who can’t go home. Besides, if someone intercepts our letters, what will they find? Dumb words of love?”  He managed to get a laugh out of her for the first time in two months.

“Hey! They’re not dumb!” Charlie rested his head on the palm of his hand. “No, they’re not...”

“One question.” Charlie started out of nowhere, “What do you know about giants?” Kate arched her eyebrows before pursing her lips, pensive.

“They’re usually big...”

“Yes, thank you very much. You remember that Hagrid…”

“Yes.”

“Dumbledore asked me to fix it...”

“No. Absolutely not. No way...”

“Katie, I already went.”

“Damn you, Charles! Giants, are you mad?” She looked behind her shoulder and murmured, “What were you thinking?”

“About you, and on how useless I was feeling by keeping a low profile.” She tsked and shook her head. “It didn’t go well, but it was worth a try.”

“What made you think it would work, if Hagrid failed?”

“My charm.” He threw a proud smirk at her, trying to tease her a bit. She shook her head again, this time trying to keep the corners of her mouth from curving.

“Are you all right?” She asked in a completely different tone.

“A little bruised, but fine. Though I would have preferred you being the one who healed me.”

“Sweet talker.” She accused. He flashed her a grin again, attempting to make her forget his little adventure.

“So they’re on His side, irrevocably, right?” Charlie slowly nodded.

Asking her to wait, he reached for the flu-powder bowl, and threw a handful into the fire, rekindling the green flames.

He looked at her again, without saying anything. The fire was the only thing that lit up the little room in his home, and if he concentrated enough, he could imagine that she was there with him; reading or writing, both of them in silence, enjoying a quiet night.

“What’s wrong?” She whispered.

“Nothing, just looking at you. Lovely views.”

Kate’s face contorted in worry all of a sudden. She ordered him to be quiet with her finger against her lips and turned around. He saw the back of her head for one solid minute before she faced him again.

“Someone’s outside,” she whispered, “I need to go now. I promise we’ll talk like this again.”

“Katie... Kate!” She looked at him with fear of being caught and with a pointed look, hurried him to talk.

“I love you.”

She softened, and a hint of a sad smile appeared on her face. He watched her close her eyes and take a deep breath.

I love you, too

He barely heard her, but her lips didn’t move at all, and he had to blink several times to register what was happening. It felt like she was there, right next to him, and in his head, and everywhere.

“How…”

“A connection. An unbreakable bond lets the mind do wonderful things. And the vanishing spell isn't the only thing I've been practising.” She checked her back again and returned to him once more before grinning. “You look handsome, by the way, as always.”

And with a wink and a smile she left him staring at the now cooling logs, touching his recently shaved face and with a devastated expression that would stay with him for the next months.

“Thanks…” he whispered into the night.

She glanced around to make her eyes adjust to the darkness and picked up the heavy skirts of her uniform so that she could stand up. Groping around, she approached headmistress Rhode’s desk and opened the top drawer. Feeling only papers and parchment, she closed it and opened the next.

 Kate made the remaining smoke disappear quickly, as well as the burned logs. She raised her hand to her necklace and then pressed it against stomach, thinking that perhaps, if she put enough pressure, she would make the horrible feeling in her body disappear.

Something cold touched her hand. Bingo.

She lifted the bottle and extended her arms before pressing the valve at the end of the tube. The characteristic smell of the headmistress’ office flooded the room, making all traces of the smoke disappear.

She grimaced at the new fragrance and quickly returned the bottle to the drawer. Just as she was closing it, a new set of voices echoed through the door.

She stood very still, at first, hearing them closer and clearer.

She hurried to her feet, and at her haste, the corner of the desk collided with her hip. Taking her hand to her mouth, she pressed her eyes so hard that she began to see stars.

When the pain became tolerable, she went on her way to the door and bent over the doorknob. Moving the flap that covered the lock, she dared to look.

“You can’t get very far, Marek.”

She could make out Libor Marek’s legs, limping rapidly out of reach of his pursuer. Another pair of legs appeared beside him and Marek halted.

“You’re a lunatic. All those weird herbs of yours can’t be doing you any good.” He lowered the volume of his voice as he stood in front of the door, yet the irritation was evident in his tone.

“I’m only going to ask you once...”

“You mean, ‘once more’...”

“I’m just saying, if you need painkillers for your leg, don’t steal ingredients. You can ask for them. I didn’t say anything the first time, but it’s getting repetitive.”

“Don’t get amiable with me, Jorgensen. I didn’t take anything from your stinking office. Maybe you should ask yourself who decided that poisoning teachers is the order of the day in entertainment.”

“Well, that would be perfect, wouldn’t it? You’d kill two birds with one stone. You never liked her."

Marek didn’t respond. His legs turned away from the potion teacher. Although he said one last sentence, Kate could only make out the word “cretin”.

Jorgensen stood in front of the door before turning around and walking away in the opposite direction.

Kate let out a long sigh and squeezed her wand more tightly. With a grimace, she lifted the latch of the door and pulled. She tiptoed out of the room, trying to avoid the heels of her boots to touch the floor, and slipped through the shadows. To the rest of the world, she had never been there.

She walked through the halls calmly and quietly. The floating candlesticks barely lit the way, enough to keep from tripping.

Darkness had never been a problem for her. In fact, it was preferable. Everything was different; the people seemed good, the problems insignificant, and the world was at peace.

However, everything was out of the ordinary now. Even the night could not avoid that feeling of being watched. There weren’t too many pictures on the walls, but if the stone had eyes, Kate was sure it would squint as she walked.

I’m not very good at this spy stuff, she thought. Suddenly the question she had asked Astrid Rhode on her first day echoed in her mind.

Why me?

I’d never get a clear answer from Dumbledore, that was clear. She could only resign herself to accepting her mission.

Before entering the infirmary, she sniffed the inside of her elbow and shirt collar, and when she saw that Astrid’s potion to eliminate odours had worked, she plastered her healing face on and opened the hospital wing’s doors.

 With the events of the past two weeks related to the herbology professor in mind, she went over to Flavia Hodges’ bed to review her status report. Just a few days before, Flavia suffered another accident; she rolled down the stairs in, what appeared to be, a moment of distraction on her part.

Poisoning. Unknown. Possible Weedosoros. (Symptoms: convulsions, foaming at mouth) - Antidote for common poisons. Effective.

Anxiety attack. - Calming draught. Effective.

Hip fracture- 3-4 days, Skele-gro. Effective.

Looking up from the paper, she observed how the teacher moved in a restless sleep. As she approached to blow out the candle on her bedside table, a hand grabbed her tightly at the wrist.

Professor Hodges took a deep breath; her eyes were wide open, and they looked at Kate with a horrified expression. With her free hand she gestured frantically, and her mouth opened and closed, trying to pronounce the words she so desperately wanted to convey.

“Professor Hodges, breathe with me.” Kate tried to get Flavia to compose herself, but she was getting more and more agitated.

Some sounds came out of her mouth, and Kate sat down on the bed.

“What do you want to tell me?” She put her hand on her forehead and didn’t need a thermometer to know that her temperature was not normal.

“I need help! Fever-reducing potion and... and more antidote!” She screamed over her shoulder, not caring if she woke up other patients.

Two mediwizards rushed to the cabinets to provide the necessary potions. Kate reached out her hand that wasn’t being squeezed by the teacher and flew a cloth hanging from a chair on the other side of the room.

“Aguamenti.” She mumbled. The cloth became wet in her hand, causing several drops of water to travel to her elbow. She placed the cloth on the teacher’s forehead, who winced at the contact.

The promised potions arrived quickly, and the three mediwizards set about healing their patient. Flavia resisted, squirming and holding Kate tighter and tighter.

“Ig...” She put her index finger just below her eye for a second before dropping her hand.

“You saw something. What did you see?” Kate insisted.

“Ig... ov...”

“I’ll give you what’s left of the calming draught.” Kate heard her partner say.

“There’s nothing left but that?”

“Don’t give her anything yet!” Kate interrupted. “Professor. Professor Hodges. Look at me. Do you mean that...”

Before she could finish the question, one of her companions raised Flavia’s head and made her drink from the bottle of the potion that would take effect in a few seconds.

Kate stood up and as she watched Flavia Hodges go into a deep sleep, two dots connected in her mind. It was possible, and almost certain, that Professor Hodges had had an encounter with the Death Eater Igor Karkarov, and that he was roaming the castle at that very moment.

--

[Part 8]

A/N. I took the liberty of writing the floo net system as I pleased. Did it sound like they were facetiming? Perhaps

#charlie weasley #charlie x jacob's sibling #charlie weasley x mc #charlie weasley x ofc #kate williams #hphm ask #hphm fanfiction #charlie weasley fanfiction #durmstrang series

[killmebutneverinsultme2]

Rules for mobile (Pinned Post)

The Code

Success. I’ve sufficiently pestered the wench to make me a blog, much to the cost of a certain behorned mischief god whose presence I must share. Follow the rules below, and there’ll be smooth sailin’, savvy?

This be an exceptionally selective blog. I was me mun’s first ever muse yonks back and I’ve pestered her into writing me again, BUT, she’s horribly pressed for time. Partners will likely be very few, else ones doubling up with Loki’s. Anyone is welcome to approach and enquire, but she and I will be leaning toward those either from me own universe or crossovers with which she’s highly familiar and characters in whom she’s especially interested. Ye have been warned.

Replies are like to be slow, up to a few weeks at most.

Partners must be 18+. Various themes of an adult nature may be found here. Sexual things will be tagged ‘#filthy pirate’ with whatever level/variety of sin I deem them. More details below.

Behave. There shall be no rudeness, no passive aggression, no hate, no censorship or generally being a twit. Do I make meself clear?

The Code - Extended (below the cut)

Hi, guys. I’m Pirate (oddly known as this long before I made Jack a tumblr). Here are my more detailed rules and guidelines for writing with me on this blog, though the absolute basics are at the top as, honestly, it’s never easy to remember everyone’s requirements.

Jack is a sideblog. If you’re being followed by a benevolentgodloki that means I’m following you back. I don’t need us to be mutuals (both following each other) for us to write together, but there is a greater chance of us having a partnership if we’re letting each other know we’re interested.

How I Roll

I note myself as ‘highly selective’. This isn’t to be an elitist bugger, it’s because we all only have a limited amount of time we can put in. I want to write what I enjoy with people I enjoy. I am married with two attention-seeking cats, two jobs, a slow-brewing intended writing career and a video game addiction.

Asks/Memes - I will usually answer these no matter who they are from but I may or may not turn them into a thread I intend to keep. Some memes are very much designed to be something that continues so context can be key. If you would like to know in advance whether I intend to answer and/or keep something, please do pop me a message and I will be kind and honest.

My Threads - While Jack’s blog is still exciting and new, I’m being a bit all over the place with who and what I reply to depending on which way Jack’s.. compass.. is pointing. I do have a rolling turn order that I adhere to (to the point that I can genuinely tell you who is next at any given moment) but it’s all piled in with Loki’s threads, meaning I can take a few weeks to get round everything. Every partner gets one of their threads answered within that ‘round’ and then I go round again. However, when I’m really into something/finding something easy to pop back, I treat myself to spamming certain threads or partners at my whim. I use rpthreadtracker.com to maintain what I have. 

I will remind partners of threads that have not been replied to for more than three months. If I do not do this, I have either forgotten/lost it myself, I’m not too fussed about keeping it at that stage, or you were absent for a long period of time. 

My Style - I will write in both past or present tense depending on partner preference. My default is past but I like either. Please kick me if I screw up and write the wrong one. I prefer using regular size font but I will make mine small on replies to people who use the smaller so that it looks neat. I will often match partners’ lengths and some formatting details e.g. bolding dialogue, but I struggle with doing novella-length posts for reasons below.

I have a bugbear to admit about role-play. What we call splicing. A good half of my partners write this way so I’m not about to tell everyone to stop but if you’re someone who does this, you will occasionally run into some frustrations when writing with me. ‘Splicing’ is when you retrospectively write dialogue or actions as having previously happened during your partner’s last post. These things are fine when they’re passive i.e. your character muttered them, thought them or you were writing what your character was doing at the time because that’s pretty much essential. The trouble comes usually when my characters talk a lot/ask rhetorical questions and partners choose to answer every single one despite the fact my character carried on talking. I know it’s an ass that I have talkative muses and you really want to respond to every point/get a word in, but putting words and actions into the past effectively godmods my muse into accepting they happened. If you feel your muse would have full-on interjected midway through their ramble, please ask me to edit my post/stop it at that point. Otherwise if you do prefer to splice, my muse will only respond to whatever it is your character did or said last in their post. This is one of the reasons I can’t write novella, because often there is only so much you can write before you’re stepping into the territory of changing what went before and not allowing your partner to do anything about it.

TL;DR don’t ever worry about your post being too short for me. If it’s one sentence long but it’s because something fast-paced is happening, I won’t be miffed.

Shipping! - no not that kind of ship, Jack. I love shipping. Ships all around. Let’s face it, romance can be one of the most exciting reasons we bother writing. I am open to a lot of ships for Jack, practically all of them. Yes, even that one. I will do downright nasty, toxic, horrible stuff, savvy? It’s fiction and Jack is a great indulgence for bad things happening to him as much as good. That said, of course don’t force something on him without prior agreement between us. Well, I mean, your muse can try and accost him and see what he does, just don’t expect him to definitely reciprocate. Jack and I are bi/pansexual. We’re open to everything. I will admit a heavy lean toward m/m but, that said, Jack is extremely fond of the ladies, more so than Loki. I am very into Sparrington especially.

Not Safe For Ye Olde Work

Sliding down from the above topic, I enjoy the occasional smutting. It is not a requirement from my partners. In fact, I’m warming very much to fading to black depending on the context/mood/if things feel a bit repetitive. I do feel a touch more comfortable with partners who don’t need that boundary but as I’ve recently figured ‘if it needs a cut, then it’s smut’ I know when to skip on.

Saucy material will go under cuts/Read More’s and be tagged as mentioned above with ‘filthy pirate’. Additional tags will be based on the citrus scale: ‘lime’ for general grabbing, ‘lemon’ for full on sexual content and ‘grapefruit’ if things get extra kinky. I will tag things such as ‘rape tw’ or ‘noncon tw’ or ‘dubcon tw’ where necessary. Please blacklist any or all of these at your leisure, or search them if you fancy :U I do NOT tag these as ‘ns.fw’ because tumblr just completely hides them from being searchable which is useless for my partners.

OC’s - Due to my time constraints I am extremely picky when it comes to OC’s. This is a good fandom for well-thought-out muses and I know firsthand how hard it is to make headway as an OC in the RP world. However, I also understand that for people like me, I want to dip in on this site to mostly play with the characters and worlds I’m really absorbed in and ship my weaselly black guts out. Some people have more time than others to really give your OCs the time and love they deserve. Unless I’ve played with you a long time and I really like the cut of your and your muse’s jib, it’s very unlikely I’ll bite. Apologies! The same goes for crossover muses from fandoms I’m unfamiliar with, but I will let you know if that’s the case.

Limits

Threads - I don’t have a strict limit on how many to have per person but please bear in mind that the more of these you have with me the longer it will take me to get to a particular one (unless I’m spamming it back and forth). This is more a mun/muse context how many I accept.

Exclusives/mains - I don’t do these although I may consider having a maximum of 3 or 4 of one muse depending on activity levels and to ensure plots don’t get mixed up or attention feel unfairly balanced.

Triggers/squicks - I don’t like body horror e.g. graphic detail of squishy bits having bad things happen to them. I’m writing a pirate so there’s absolutely allowed to be elements of torture/violence, just don’t stab him in the eye or chop bits off him. One torture-related thing sends me into a complete freakout which I’ll discuss with partners if we’re doing a thread of that ilk as needed. Kink-wise I’m not into mpreg, A/B/O or infantilism or toilet things. Just ask me/Jack if you’re after something XD

Who I Am/What I Need From You

Being yourself is the most important thing and I promise I am not a scary person (usually). We’re only human and it’s natural that we’ll get along better with some rather than others. This is more to give you a gist of the sort of person I am and who I gel with best.

So I’m a shy hermit at the best of times. I’m trying to be better at engaging and enthusing with partners over our threads because I realise more than ever this does keep things alive and make for a more enjoyable experience. I’m not always great at it. I work best with people who are patient and don’t worry too much on what I think of them and their writing, with people who are happy to keep threads going for the longhaul rather than keep dropping everything before I’ve had the time to get to the next post, and most especially people who accept that fiction =/= reality. I do need a certain level of quality, which doesn’t always mean perfect grammar, but it must be coherent, fun and creative. I like a relaxed approach, sharing mutual enjoyment in silly fantasy world sandboxes as escapism from (and exploration of) this complicated world we live in.

If you managed to read all of this, have a drink (even if it’s water). You’re a diamond. 

Pirate xxx

#rules #pinned post

[stormtrprinstilettos]

“Now you have to let me take care of you.” - Roger x (fem) Reader (smut)

Summary: It’s 1983 and Queen are recording their next album at the studio where you work… and things get a little heated between you and the drummer.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

In this “episode”: Roger’s ex comes to town just in time to plant a seed of doubt; “it” finally happens.

Word Count: ~4k

Warnings: age gap (she’s 21, he’s 35), smut, language, the usual, so 18+ please

Tagging: @fixedonroger @a19103 @ginabaker1666 @rogahmeddowstaylah @culturefiendtrashqueen @imaginesandideas @rogertaylorscar @painkiller80 @rogerrhqpsody

[A/N: This one starts a few days after the the last one ended. And I SWEAR this is the last one for two weeks!]

“We’ll have a couple of days there alone,” Roger tells you, excitedly giving you the complete rundown of of everything that’s going to happen when you get to Montreux in a few weeks. “I’ll be able to show you around, get you familiar with everything.” He starts to ramble on about places to go and things to see, and when he turns his head to look at you in the passenger seat of his car, he stops talking, taking note of the smile on your face. “You’ll love it there.” He pulls your hand to his lips and gives it a kiss.

“I’m sure I will,” you grin. “And if I don’t, I’ll just blame you.” You grin bigger and sarcastically flutter your eyes.

He parked the car in his driveway and turn off the engine. “You have no idea how happy I am that you’re coming with me.” He leans over and gives you a kiss. “But enough of that,” he growls. “We finally have three whole days alone and I don’t plan on letting you out of the house.” You both giddily hurry out of the car and into the house, and as soon as the door closes, he picks you up and flings you over his shoulder. “I am not wasting a second,” he laughs as he rushes to get you in the bedroom, where he throws you on the bed.

“Well this couldn’t get more romantic if you tried,” you say through laughter as you start to take off your shirt. It’s been almost a week since the two of you have had proper time alone and it was getting harder and harder for you to resist each other. Sneaking hand jobs under the blanket as soon as your parents went to bed just wasn’t cutting it anymore. Thankfully, they left this morning so there was nothing holding you back.

“Could you possibly go any slower?” he chuffs before helping you take off your pants. “I’ve been so miserable knowing what you’ve been hiding from me for the past week.” He pulls your pants off with little effort and pushes you down on the bed. “Now put me out of my misery and open those legs for me.” He holds your knees and spreads you open, smiling and licking his lips as he pulls you closer to the edge of the bed and kneels before you.

He doesn’t waste any time diving in, none of that teasing he likes to do before he starts to work his magic with his tongue. “God, I missed this,” you giggle as you prop yourself up on your arms so you can watch him as you bite your bottom lip and smirk when he makes eye contact. He grips your hips with his fingers and you can feel his smile against you.

You reach your hands up to grab your breasts. Seeing you touch yourself encourages him, and he starts to moan as he sucks on your lips, but he stops you. “No, no,” he says, lifting his head up and pulling your hands away. “I’m doing this all on my own,” he chuckles. “You just lay back and enjoy.” He entwines your fingers together, holding your hands down to your side and moves his mouth back down.

“Jesus, Roger,” you moan. “Promise me you won’t ever stop doing this.”

He lifts his head up and starts to laugh. “So this is why you’re coming with me?” he smirks before moving back down, taking your clit in his lips, gently sucking, just like you like it. You unhook one of your hands from his and grab a handful of his hair. He groans against you and causes a gentle vibration and you start to softly grind yourself against his mouth. “So good,” he mumbles against you. “You’re not allowed to keep her away from me for so long again.” His tongue swirls up and down as he looks up into your pleading eyes and starts to smile before darting his tongue inside of you, lapping up as much of your juices as he can, Your grip on his hair gets tighter, giving a moaning giggle as you grind yourself closer to his mouth. “Cum for me, baby,” he moans. “Let me taste more of you.” His words send a jolt though your body, your legs tingling as you feel wave after wave of ecstasy rush over you.

You sit up and look down at him again, biting your smiling lip as he looks up at you and smiles back. “Get up here,” you giggle. You scoot back on the bed, keeping your legs open, inviting him up to you for more pleasure. He crawls on the bed and takes his shirt off before he hovers over you, doing his playful growl before his lips meet yours.

Then the doorbell rings. “Ignore it,” he grunts. “They’ll come back later.” He starts to kiss you again, but the doorbell doesn’t stop ringing. “Fuck,” he yells. “Ignore it.”

But it keeps ringing. “They’re not going to stop,” you grumble. “Go get rid of them. I’ll wait.” He gives you one more kiss and a smile, and rushes out to the living room as you lay there, completely naked on his bed. You strain to see if you can hear anything, but you don’t. Not until you hear footsteps approaching the hallway.

“I’m only going to be here until Friday,” you hear a woman say. “Thanks again for letting me stay here.” When you hear her voice you hurry and grab Roger’s shirt to cover yourself, just in case she sees you.

“Take the room in the back,” you hear Roger tell her. “And make yourself comfortable.” He walks back in the bedroom and smiles at you as he closes the door. “Did I ever tell you how incredibly sexy you look when you wear my clothes?” He jumps back on the bed and lays next to you. “I didn’t know she was coming today,” he groans as he rubs his eyes. “That’s Julie.” Perfect, you groan to yourself. She’s Roger’s ex that he told you would be staying at his place for a few days. “Don’t worry about her,” he says, rolling over on his side and gliding his hand across your stomach. “She won’t be a bother.”

You start to giggle as he playfully nibbles on your neck. “She better not be. I’m not done with you yet.” Once again, you’re interrupted, this time by a knock on the door.

“Hey, Rog? Where are the towels. I can’t find them,” she asks. “I want to take a shower.” You glare over at him who is equally as annoyed.

“Bathroom closet, middle shelf,” he yells before looking back to you. You roll your eyes and stand up, grabbing your pants and putting them on. “Why are you doing that?” he asks with a laugh.

“Because we won’t be finishing any time soon,” you sarcastically reply. “You’re not being a very good host anyway.” You open his dresser and grab a shirt, laughing as you throw it at him. He doesn’t protest, but he begrudgingly puts his shirt on as he chuckles and grabs you from behind, giving you kisses on your neck. “Stop that,” you giggle and walk out the room, him still latching on, not wanting to let you go.

You walk out in the living room and sit on the sofa and he still can’t keep his hands off you. “Your innocent little giggles turn me on more than your tits do, babe,” he jokes, “because I know you’re a dirty girl underneath all of that.”

“You make me that way,” you grin. “You better make me forget my name later.”

He gives a deep, throaty chuckle. “You won’t even be able to move by the time I’m finished with you.” He pins you down on the sofa and starts to tickle you, smirking with every laugh you make before he leans down and gives you a smooth and drawn-out kiss.

“Picking them young these days, are we?” Julie curtly says as she walks in the living room, wrapped in nothing more than a towel.

“Uh, Jules, this is Y/N,” Roger says with a chuckle as he climbs off of you.

You smile and giggle as you sit up. “Nice to meet you.”

“I’m sure it is,” she snarks at you, rolling your eyes.

You glance over at Roger and force a sardonic smile before walking to the kitchen for a drink. When you walk away, you hear her talking. “So where’d you get this one from? Bar, club or high school party?”

“Stop it, Julie.”

“Is she living here?” She laughs. “Oh, Roger, tell me she’s not…”

“No, we don’t live together. Not yet. I have my own place for now,” you tell her as you walk back into the living room and giving her a fake, but sweet smile. “Do you mind putting some clothes on? I mean, I got dressed before I came out of the bedroom. It would have been rude otherwise.” Your voice was equally as sweet as your smile, with just a hint of a territorial tone.

You don’t know why you were jealous. Okay, so you do know why – she’s fucking gorgeous, and they obviously have a history, and she’s staying in his house. Not that you ever thought for a second that she’d be some hideous being, but since you saw her, you can’t help but feel a small tinge of intimidation, and when you get intimidated you turn bitchy. You were holding it in, not wanting to give her any ammunition to use against you. When she walked out of the room, Roger turns to you and grabs your hand. “We can go lock ourselves in your apartment instead. We don’t have to stay here.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” you tell him. “I’ll go get my shoes.” When you’re in the bedroom you can hear her start to talk again.

“What are you doing, Roger? Do you know how pathetic this looks?” She wasn’t humored in the slightest. She didn’t sound concerned, but disgusted.

“It doesn’t look pathetic at all,” he snaps at her.

“Some young bimbo in your bedroom and you don’t think this looks pathetic?”

“I don’t really care how this looks.”

“What? Are you buying her things? Giving her some wild adventure she can go back and tell her girlfriends about?”

She shuts up when you walk back into the room. Roger walks by, whispers in your ear that he’s going pack a bag, and you’re left alone with Julie.

“What’d he promise you? A big house? Fancy cars? Diamonds? Marriage?” she asks, her eyebrows lowered.

“He never made me any promises,” you smirk.

“Well that will be good for you in the long run,” she giggles. “Like when you get rusty like an old car and he gets rid of you for a newer one.”

Your smirk grows bigger. “Like he did with you?” She opens her mouth to talk, but you cut her off before she can say anything. “Who or what Roger does is none of your concern,” you snap, your voice lowered to almost a whisper.

“Tell me, Y/N. Do you taste me when you’re sucking his dick?” the snarls.

“No,” you say, your smirk unrelenting. “I bet if you lean in close enough you can smell me on his breath, though.”

Before she can reply, Roger walks back in the room and grabs your hand. “You have the place to yourself,” he tells her. “There’s a key on the counter for you.”

She looks confused, so you decide to help her out. “We’ll be at my place,” you smile. “You know, so we can have a wild adventure I can tell my girlfriends about.”

You and Roger are back at your place, snuggled on the sofa trying to watch a movie, but you can’t get something Julie told him out of your head. You didn’t want to bring it up, but you had to, because it was giving you doubts about leaving everything and going with him to Montreux. “I heard what she told you. That this looks pathetic.”

He pulled you in tighter and kisses the top of your head. “So then you heard me tell her that I don’t care what it looks like.”

You let out a deep sigh. “I don’t want to be a problem for you. I don’t want to…”

“Hey. Look at me,” he tells you, pushing your chin up so he can look in your eyes. “I don’t care what anyone else says or thinks. You’re the only one whose opinion I care about. Do you care what people say?”

“No, I don’t,” you smile.

“Then don’t worry about what some bitter tramp has to say.”

You out your head down on his shoulder. That should have been enough to relax you, but it wasn’t. You pick your head up and look at him again. “Rog?”

He looks at you and smiles, holding the back of his hand to your cheek. “I love you, Y/N. If people have a problem with that…”

Your eyes widen and your mouth drops. “You… what?”

“I love you.”

You straddle his lap and an enormous smile draws itself across your lips. “You do?”

“I fucking love you,” he tells you, his voice as soft as the touch of his hand on your face. “I don’t know what you did to me, Y/N. I don’t know how you did it, but I love you.”

You lean in and press your forehead to his. “I love you.”

“Oh yeah?” he smiles.

“Yeah,” you whisper. He slides his hand to the back of your head, his fingers running through your hair and pulling you in for a kiss.

Your phone starts to ring. “You have got to be kidding me right now.” You try to ignore it, but it seems like it’s starting to get louder and louder with every ring. You answer it, and before you can even say anything, Kevin, the studio owner, starts barking on the other end.

“I need you back in San Diego. Tomorrow.”

“Oh come on Kevin, not now!” you yell. Roger watches you intently as you listen to your boss ramble on. “For how long? A week??”

“Quit,” Roger mouths to you. You cover the receiver so he can talk out loud. “Tell him you quit,” he whispers.

“I can’t quit my job,” you whisper. He laughs and raises his eyebrow, making you realize that you were going to be quitting in a few weeks anyway. “Hey, Kevin? I’m not going. Why? Because I quit. I’ll be in tomorrow to get my things and bring you my keys.”

Roger grabs you and pulls your close. “Now you have to let me take care of you,” he says with his face buried in your neck.

“Hey,” you say at you jokingly shove him away. “I still have 3 weeks of independence left.”

“Oh, well, then in that case I’ll get going…” he starts to stand up from the sofa, but you pull him back down.

“Like hell you are,” you giggle as you straddle his lap again.

“If you don’t need me there’s no reason for me to be here.”

“Oh, I need you,” you say as you bite your bottom lip and run your hands on his chest.

“Want and need are two different things,” he smirks.

“I know… I need you.”

“How bad do you need me?”

You stand up and start walking to your bedroom. “Why don’t you come and find out?”

He follows you, grabbing you from behind and holding you close, his chin resting on your shoulder. “Two weeks. That’s how long it took for me to love you.” He gently turns you around and you melt immediately when you see the smile on his face. “When I came over, and we had dinner. And I fell asleep, holding you,” he whispers, running his hand up your arm and guiding it to cup your face. “I haven’t wanted to let you go since.”

The air in the room seems to get heavy as a wave of heat flushes over your body. He leans down and kisses you passionately. “I don’t want you to let me go,” you whisper into his mouth, your arms wrapped around him.

His hands move to start undressing you like he has so many times before, but this time his eyes were different and his movements were slow, like he was savoring every inch of your body. Maybe his eyes weren’t different, but they felt different now that you knew how he felt about you. “You’re an absolute goddess,” he says as he finishes undressing you. You stand there before him, never breaking the eye contact as he takes off his clothes before moving you down to the bed.

You let out a quiet whimper into his mouth as you kiss, his hand roaming over your body. The only time your kiss broke was to satisfy your mutual need to breathe. His eyes pierced you as his hand passed over your ribcage before making its way to your waiting breast, his thumb passing back and forth against your nipple.

Your hands make their way to his shoulders, and you nudge him to move, laying on his back as you move on top of him, kissing his lips first before making your way down. He’s watching every move you make, allowing himself to give up control, for now at least. You keep your eyes on him as you fill your mouth with his throbbing flesh, stroking him with your moist lips. He moves your hair from your face as he gazes at you while you work.

He calls you up to him, not wanting to finish this way, although he could – he loves the way your mouth feels on him. You didn’t protest. The simmering heat that was developing between your legs made it impossible for you to. He sits up, waiting for you, and when you get to him, he pulls you to him. Holding his wanting cock in your hand, you lower yourself, guiding him into you as you straddle his hips. He pulls you forward to kiss you, your tongues dancing together as you start to rock your hips, clutching a handful of his hair as his hands hold your back. He starts to meet your rocking with his thrusts, letting you feel the unrelentless push and pull of him deep inside of you while he kept kissing you with an equally unrelenting hunger. You start to cum, but he holds on, continuing to push his throbbing rod into you as far as he can go.

When he knows you’re finished, he rolls you over so you’re laying underneath him, his cock firmly inside of you as he gazes down into your eyes. You were no longer some quick lay, or someone to keep him occupied during his stay in town. You quit being that to him a long time ago. You are his, and he is yours. He slowly rolls his hips into you, wanting to savor every single second, wanting to feel every single inch. With every needful push he makes, you feel beautiful, and desired… and loved.

He rested himself on his arms, his hands holding your head, and he leans down to kiss you. He moves his lips down your neck and to your collarbone, his thrusts growing faster and deeper. You run your fingernails on the nape of his neck, moaning with pleasure, your lumbering breaths in perfect harmony with his. You bring his face up to look at you. You want – no, you need to look at him. “I love you,” He breathlessly whispers as his eyes meet yours again.

It’s that very moment you realize that you’re giving everything to him – all of your emotions, all of your physical self. Everything. As he leans in for another kiss, you whisper that you love him, too. Your moans are getting louder as he starts to kiss your neck, thrusting faster inside of you. He turns you on your side, your back to him so he can hold you close, never missing a beat as he continues pumping inside of you, deeper and harder than before, as you have one arm wrapped around his neck. He locks his fingers in yours, his movement getting faster, and you can hear every breath and moan he makes in your ear. “Are you ready, baby?” he asks, panting and heavy.

“Yes,” you groan. “Cum with me.” Your walls start to constrict, and you feel every throb he is making inside of you. You turn your head and look at him looking down at you, and as soon as your eyes meet he gives you one final hard thrust, filling you with every drop. You cry out as you climax, your insides exploding in a sensation of electrified and pure bliss. The almost pained concentration leaves his face and makes way for a smile, that damn smile he’s given you so many times before, but this time it’s giving you a feeling of love and adoration. You can’t resist smiling back at him. You both know what each other is thinking.

All tension subsided, and you lay there relaxed. He’s still holding you as your breathing finally slows to a regular pace. You move to sit up, but he doesn’t let you, pulling you closer to him instead. “No,” he chuckles. “Still not ready to let you go.”

#roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor x y/n #roger taylor smut #roger taylor x you #roger taylor fanfic #roger taylor fic #roger taylor fanfiction #1983 roger

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Wonderwall Chapter 4

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  

Keanu Reeves x Reader

“By now you should have somehow realized what you’ve got to do.” - Oasis

As we stumble through the front door of Y/n’s apartment, my lips find hers and already she’s pushing of my sport coat. My hands move to clumsily undo the zipper at the back of her mini skirt and we break temporarily to remove her delicate lace blouse and my t shirt. 

When Y/n pulls away, I quickly begin to miss the feeling of her body against mine. Taking my hand in hers, she leads me to her large bedroom, expertly maneuvering through the dark. Her room is faintly illuminated by the bright digital advertisements a few buildings away and the city lights. Once, Y/n had told me that this was one of her favorite parts of living in New York, the city always felt just as alive as she did, and at night, if you lived in the right place, the bright lights weren’t off-putting, they were enchanting. Arguably, she was more enchanting, but I might be biased.

In the low lighting, I admire her, feminine curves that may have been perfectly sculpted by the gods, soft, loose curls framing her delicate face, eyes, barely visible though I’m sure I could see the world in them without trying. Beauty unmatched.

Letting my hand go, Y/n fumbles with the buckle of my belt and as a result of the drinks we’ve had, coupled with the lack of proper lighting, it eventually takes our combined efforts to undo it. As I kick off my jeans along with my shoes, I pull Y/n to me, her naked chest pressing to mine as we meet in another feverish, passionate kiss. One of her hands tangle in my hair while the other grabs my shoulder. As we continue, Y/n stumbles backwards until she’s on the bed, laying beneath me.

Slowly, our bodies become intertwined and it’s hard to find where I end and she begins. She’s everything, and I hope I can communicate that by the way I touch her. Our pace is tantalizingly slow as I let myself get lost in Y/n. Soon enough, the only sounds I can make out are the ones coming Y/n. Her quiet moans as I rock against her, her praises and pleas. It’s all consuming and I’m sure I’ve never experienced anything quite like this. She’s perfect.

When I awake the next morning, its the start of a new year. The sunlight has filled the room, worsening the throbbing in my head. I feel terrible and even go as far as lying to myself by internally promising to never drink again.

Soft snores at my side break my thoughts. When I turn, I bring the sheets up to cover my modesty, gasping quietly as I realize that they’re coming from a very naked Keanu. So the hot sex wasn’t just a really realistic dream?

The slight throb between my legs confirms that it really wasn’t. When was the last time someone literally fucked me till it hurt? I can’t remember, not even Jacob’s that good. Curiously, I lift the sheet a little, peeking to make sure that I’ve got things right. And because, if its been in me, the least I can do is commit it to memory. Keanu’s turned on his side, and I doubt the position does him justice, but what I do see leave me muttering, “Holy fuck.”

Even though my words were barely a whisper, Keanu stirs and panic rises in my chest. What if he doesn’t remember? What if he wakes up and regrets it? God, what if I said something weird? Nope, I can’t do this. Definitely not doing this, at least not right now.

I release a sigh of relief when he settles again, turning to face the glass balcony door. As quietly, and in as little movements possible, I shuffle out of the bed, gabbing my robe from the chair at my vanity. As I tie the front, I can’ t help but admire the way the light casts a gentle glow on Keanu’s face. I can almost see the tiniest flecks of grey in his beard and I try to remember how it must have felt against my fingers and face. My eyes travel downward, the scar on his abdomen has the lightest shine and I again, the urge to touch him rises. But I know I shouldn’t, not until I figure out what I’m going to say. Just like that, he’s forbidden again. 

Coffee, you need coffee, I tell myself. Shaking myself out of distraction, I hurry to the bathroom, grabbing my toothbrush. I can brush my teeth in the guest bathroom. Afterwards, I head to the kitchen, smirking at articles of clothing scattered on the living room floor on my way there.

As I sip the bitter, warm liquid, the rich taste intermingles with the minty coolness of my toothpaste, providing familiar comfort.  I’m not sure how long I spend, sitting at the kitchen island enjoying the silence, but I do know that out of no where, my cell starts ringing leaving me scrambling to find it.

“Hello?” I breathe, huffing quietly. I didn’t even check to see who it was.

“Y/n, where the fuck have you been? You left to go to the bathroom and didn’t come back!” Jacob. Fuck. He sounds angry, but beneath it, there’s worry. “What happened?”

“Sorry. I lost you in the crowd and ended up leaving,” there goes the worst lie ever. 

I hear him sigh on the other end, and for a minute I remember that even when things are terrible, underneath it all, we always cared for each other. “I was worried. How’d you get home?”

I run a hand through my hair, trying to find an acceptable version of the truth, “Keanu helped me get a cab and made sure I got back.”

The silence stretches, “Okay,” I can almost hear the anger making a reappearance. “You could have called. Sent a fucking text, anything Y/n.”

Suddenly, I feel like a child being scolded and the feeling is followed by a nagging need to make things right again, “I know....I’m sorry Jacob. I just got busy and-”

When he cuts me off, Jacob is shouting, loud enough to make me jump, “You fucked him didn’t you?”

Flustered, knowing the truth, I stammered before blurting out, “I’m so sorry. We were drunk. Jake, it was an accident. It doesn’t even mean anything.” Before I realize it, I’m rambling on, begging him to not break up with me. The night before is suddenly forgotten and I’m terrified of the idea of losing him. He’s familiar, he’s the man I’ve loved for three years, I can’t give him up for unchartered territory with my best friend. It would be stupid.

Jacob sighs over the phone, clearly still upset. “I’ll be over by lunch. We’ll talk about this.” He doesn’t even give a minute to confirm and the line clicks dead.

I breath out loudly, tossing the phone to the sofa, then running my hands through my hair, blinking back tears. What am I doing? Quickly swiping my fingers beneath my eyes, I turn, jumping when I see Keanu standing in the doorway, clad only in his jeans from last night. The look on his face is one that I’ve never seen directed to me. Anger, hurt, disappointment. I swallow thickly, testing the waters. It can’t be that bad, right? “How much of that did you hear?”

He folds his arms across his chest, his biceps swelling in the gesture, “Enough to know that this was a mistake,” he pauses, scoffing, “Or you know, an accident that doesn’t mean anything.”

“Keanu-” 

He cuts me off, raising his hand for me to stop, “Don’t give me that, it’s not what it sounds like or the you didn’t mean it, because you know it’s bullshit.”

I sigh, defeated, “I don’t what to say,” although, I know that I should say something, fast, or our friendship will go up in flames, along with anything else that might be. I can’t lose him.

Keanu shakes his head and runs his hands through his hair. God, I wish I didn’t just fuck this up. Hell, I fucked this up last night. He’s my best friend and now he can barely look at me. “That’s cause there’s nothing to say Y/n.”

My mouth opens, but nothing escapes it. Shaking his head, Keanu grabs his shirt and jacket from off the hard wood floor. “Don’t go,” I finally manage to plea, even if I know it won’t make a difference. 

“Why?” He asks, his voice quiet, though I swear there’s pain behind it. I know what I said was unacceptable, but I still can’t fully comprehend why he’s so mad. I’ve never seen him this upset.

“Because....” I stammer, searching for anything that can fix this, “you're my best friend, I don't want you to leave.....” I trail of, my words dwindling to nothing. Frankly, it was probably for the better because I’m not sure if there are any words to fix this. I can’t explain what I don’t understand and right now don’t think I’m capable of understanding anything besides the plainly obvious right now. Maybe that’s why I can’t comprehend his anger. 

”No.” Keanu hits his thigh with his fist, “I mean, why do you keep going back to him? When he keeps showing you that he doesn’t give a fuck. When he treats you like shit. When you know it’s always going to end the same?” 

Deep down, I know he’s right. Jacob and I have always been.....unstable to say the least. No matter how well things are going, we always seem to be at war at some point. Accusations, threats and insults. But I can’t just let him go. Nothing worthwhile comes easy right? He’s familiar, we know each other. Even if I have feelings for Keanu, it could be nothing more than an immature crush. “Because I love him,” I breathe. “You don’t understand.”

“You’re right,” he shakes his head, his hands closing around the knob, “I don’t understand. I can’t, he doesn’t care and you’re so blind to the whole thing that you keep you keep chasing after him like some kind of broken puppy,” he spats.

I gasp, offended and even Keanu looks like he can’t believe what he’s just said. As he opens his mouth to say whatever he’s thinking, it’s my turn to cut him off. “Get out,” I point to the door, anger flaring and my voice breaking, “Get Out!”

The minute Keanu leaves, shutting the door behind him, I sink to the floor, sobbing loudly. My chest feels like the air had been siphoned out of me and I’m not sure if I should be mad or shocked. But I do know that I’m hurt. How could he say that? After everything. It felt like he was different person, one that I didn’t know. One that I don’t want to know.

Burying my face in my hands, I continue to sob, trying to come to terms with the fact that I may have just lost my best friend.

*****

Tagging- @avxgers @sgt-morgan @coolbreezeinkeanureeves @shanjedi @doodooloo700 @i-cant-remember-my-old-login 

#Keanu Reeves #Keanu Reeves x reader #Keanu Reeves x you #Keanu Reeves fanfic #Keanu reeves fanfiction #keanucharlesreeves #john wick #john wick x reader #keanu #x reader #reader insert #fanfiction #wonderwall #wonderwall chapter 4

[theshijlegacy]

Rise of Skywalker ramblings

Saw RoS last night and loved it. 

I’d seen the mixed reviews and was a bit apprehensive going in, but was pleasantly surprised in a lot of ways.  It kept some of the spirit of TLJ that I liked while still delivering a lot of the “safer” Star Wars story that I expected.  Being part of a super enthusiastic opening night crowd is always fun too.  And it’s nice to see that I’m not the only person who liked the whole 7-8-9 trilogy!

Spoileriffic thoughts below.

--Rey Palpatine was one of the theories I’d kicked around, but it would have been nice if she really was nobody, like the Force doesn’t care who you’re related to. Timeline-wise she would have been better off as his great-granddaughter but I completely buy Sheev having lots of kids and/or having some later in life.

--I’d been running with the “Skywalker is the new name for Force user” theory for a while, but I’m OK with Rey adopting it as her last name.  She doesn’t have to be a Palpatine and the name of the family that saved the galaxy is continuing.

--HOLY CRAP FINN IS FORCE SENSITIVE.  I would love it if that was what he wanted to tell Rey.  (Best answer from Reddit: “I’m in love with Poe and don’t know how to tell him!”)

--Ben Solo didn’t make it to the end!  I was convinced he’d get a redemption arc and live happily ever after. Props to JJ/whoever for going in that direction, especially with the Jedi fadeout.

--The opening crawl getting right to "oh hey the emperor isn't really dead.” So happy they didn't drag out the “when-do-we-see/hear-the-emperor???” mystery

--Sheev Palpatine and his motherfucking contingencies for contingencies, plans-within-plans shit.  This guy was a thousand steps ahead of everyone else, all the time.  Got a glimpse of that in Empire’s End too.

--LOL the tank of Snoke clones.  Sheev loves his clones, in both canon and legends!

--Poe’s lightspeed skipping.  Poe being an ex-spice runner.  Poe and Zorii!  Poe in general.  Poe is great.

--Luke/Leia training flashback!!  Leia's lightsaber!!!!  Which she presumably built herself!!!!!

--3-way Finn/Poe/Rey hug.  And the sound of a thousand fanfics being composed…

--More First Order defectors who had been kidnapped as children.  (Also a plot point in Empire’s End, complete with a 6-year-old-ish Armitage Hux ordering around a group of kidnapped-and-brainwashed child recruits)

--Hux being the mole, not because he agrees with the resistance, but because he hates Kylo Ren.  I bet he was hatching a plan as soon as Snoke was killed.

--Force-healing onscreen!  And it wasn’t just “Force magic” (which I also would have been OK with), it was actual taking life from one to give to another.

--Rey was noticeably better at lightsaber fighting.  She was… not great in TFA.  Only slightly better in TLJ.  Her year of training really shows and I like that we’ve seen a pretty clear progression.

--Rey stopping that transport with some Kyle Katarn shit and Kylo trying to get it back and OH SHIT REY SHOT OUT FORCE LIGHTNING  

--Palpatine: GLADoS edition has been added to my recent “horrifying scene that works but really gives me the creeps” list (also includes flashback to Coulson resuscitation/brain surgery with him repeating “just let me die” on Agents of SHIELD, Brainy getting rebooted on Supergirl)

--Aside from his GLADoS-esque support arm complete with wires, I liked undead-Palpatine's look - missing fingers, whited-out eyes, and his transformation after he stole life from Rey & Kylo.  Especially the red-lined robes.

--Got serious Endgame vibes at the end with all the ships showing up. Husband unit also pointed out the parallel of “I am inevitable”/”I am Iron Man” and “I am all Sith”/”I am all Jedi”

--OMG ALL THE JEDI SPEAKING TO REY.  I didn’t recognize everything at first but I heard Obi-Wan (young & old), Yoda, Mace Windu, Ahsoka(!!!!!), and Anakin.  Per the credits, voices also included Qui-Gon(!), Luminara Unduli, Aayla Secura, Adi Gallia, and Kanan Jarrus(!!!!!).  Two notable absences: Cal Kestis and Ezra Bridger.  I can accept Cal’s fate as TBD since Fallen Order just came out, but this is really good news for Ezra.  I am now super super interested to see where these two have been.

--Kept the Rey/Kylo force-connection deal.  It weirded me out in TLJ but I’m really glad it was kept here.

--Wedge coming back for one last ride!  (and aging pretty well, wow)

--RIP Snap.  :-( I’d grown a bit attached to him after the Aftermath trilogy, but I think Norra and Brentin would have been proud.

-- ForceGhost!Luke has a new attitude; I guess being dead for a while tends to mellow you out.  I am still 100% OK with his character in this trilogy.

--Kylo not being as good at fighting after he dropped the dark-side allegiance – specifically the 6v1 fight against the Knights of Ren before he got the lightsaber.  Like he'd been into it so deep for so long he forgot how to fight without it.

--Han coming back one last time for some Ghost Dad Advice

--THANKS FOR NOT KILLING CHEWIE!!  I was seriously worried

--Rey fights herself!

--Where can I buy a replica of that Sith wayfinder?  I do like shiny force-user crystals/holocrons/etc

--Rey finally builds her own lightsaber!  And it’s yellow.

--TAKE THAT REYLOS: Oh you want a kiss huh?  There’s your kiss!  AND NOW HE’S DEAD.

--That whole scene.  Kylo staring at dead Rey.  Kylo force-healing Rey and bringing her back to life.  And now they’re staring at each other, and I’m thinking don’t kiss you idiots, don’t fucking do it.  FUCK they did.  I actually booed out loud.  (I will not deny being a little bit happy that Kylo died immediately after)

--All of the “are you happy Ep 7 & 8 haters???” stuff: Rey is super powerful because she’s Palpatine’s granddaughter, someone bringing up a “why don’t we Holdo this” argument and getting shot down with good reason, showing Leia’s Force powers with a flashback to being trained by Luke AND having her own lightsaber

--The urgent timeline got kind of.. muddled?  Forgotten?  They had 18 hours or 12 and still had time for all those spacejumps and Lando gathering friends from all over?

--A bit too on-the-nose with some of the ROTJ parallels.  Lando in disguise saving the day on a desert planet! Speeder bike chase!  Emperor taunting Our Hero while their friends are losing a huge battle outside!  A Skywalker dies so Our Hero can live!

--Also wondered if one of the writers played SWTOR: Emperor who really isn’t dead uses Super Mega Force Lightning and tries to jump into Our Hero’s body to take over their mind.

After chewing on this for a day, here’s my ranking of Skywalker/Palpatine saga films from best to worst:

5 > 8 > 9 > 4 > 7 > 6 > 3 > 2 > 1

And including Solo and Rogue One:

5 > Rogue One > 8 > 9 > 4 > 7 > 6 > 3 > Solo > 2 > 1

tbh I’m so far into the “inject all Star Wars content directly into my veins pls” territory that I can’t say I hate any of it, and even the cringiest prequel moments are leaps and bounds ahead of a lot of other junk I’ve watched/read/played.  So much about Star Wars is just FUN, and I will gladly handwave away most of my nitpicks (SpeedForce, I ain’t gotta explain shit) for the sake of enjoying the story.  Even the ridiculous stuff that I poke fun at is still a part of the whole mess; it can’t all be great or even good or OK and that is fine with me.  [NOTE: I have not watched the Holiday Special but the husband unit is weirdly enthusiastic about me doing so; it may happen yet this year.] 

I really like this comment from the A.V. Club.  More cynical than my overall take on the whole shebang but I totally know with where they’re coming from.  I don’t agree with all the responses but it’s a pretty good discussion.

#rise of skywalker spoilers #episode 9 spoilers #spoilers

[ladyseaheart1668]

Endless Summer Book 4 : Daughter of Vaanu (Chapter 40)

Description: Rourke’s shadow continues to loom over the Catalysts and the Northbridge Supers. But there is joy mixed in with their dread.

Tagging: @mysteli @whatmcsaid @xo-endlessmayhem-xo @endlesshero1122 @feartheendlesssummer @tigerbryn11

Chapter 40 : The Beauty of Winter

Diego

I admit to being nervous that something would go wrong in the process of obtaining our marriage license, but it seems Zahra did it again when she created Varyyn's legal identity, because nothing is questioned. We have our marriage license within an hour, with plenty of time to make it to the ceremony at the appointed time.

It's not a fancy ceremony, but I don't need it to be, and I'm pretty sure Varyyn feels the same. As far as I'm concerned, we've been married for six years, and this is really just a renewal of vows. Even the vows are of the traditional “to have and to hold” variety. Still, it's not nothing to exchange rings with the man I love and have us declared legally wed in front of witnesses. Obviously, there's no need for a reception, either. But I do manage to reserve the garden gazebo long enough for a few slow dances. I chose one song in particular, a Spanish-language love song that I heard a few years ago when it was performed by the choir at the college I was lecturing at for the semester. I bought their CD just for this song. As I sway gently in Varyyn's arms, my head resting on his shoulder, I let the lyrics wash over me.

Yo no naci sino para quereros;

Mi alma os ha cortado a su dedida;

Por hábito del alma misma os quiero.

Escrito está en mi alma vuestro gesto;

Yo lo leo tan solo que aun de vos

Me guardo enesto.

Quanto tengo confiesso yo deveros;

Por vos naci, por vos tengo la vida,

Y por vos é de morir y por vos  muero.

“This was a wonderful surprise, my darling,” Varyyn murmurs. I sigh happily, nuzzling his neck.

“I'm glad you think so. I'm glad I was able to pull it off, too. Allie and Jake helped, of course. And Zahra.”

“Do you regret at all that the rest of the Catalysts weren't present?”

“Nah. They were all at our real wedding. Besides, it's only a couple months until Sean and Michelle's wedding, and I wouldn't want to steal their thunder.”

“A fair point. Should we not tell them about this?”

“There's no need to keep it a secret. Zahra knows. We'll just let it come out naturally.” I pull back slightly so I can look him in the eye, letting my arms drape around his neck. I smile as I gaze into his eyes. “...Amor de mi alma...”

“ 'Love of my soul'?”

“That's the name of this song.” I peck his mouth with mine. “And it's what you are to me.”

“...I love you, my Diego. I don't know how I could have been so lucky to have found you...”

“You brought an army to the resort where I was staying and lassoed me right up.” I meant it as a joke, but he winces visibly. I take his face in my hands. A blue halo hovers around my fingers, barely detectable as they displace the light creating the hologram disguise. “Baby, you know I don't hold that against you, right?”

“...I know. You and I have had a long time to get past that. I am still so sorry for it. I won't ever forget the lessons I was taught over those six months. ...And I do not only mean English.”

“Well...that's a good thing. Lessons should be remembered. As long as you don't let guilt drown you.”

“I promise, if ever I am tempted to let guilt drown me, I think of my darling.”

There is nothing that needs to be said to that. I lean back into my husband's embrace, resting my head on his chest. I steal a glance over at Allie and Jake, gazing into each other's eyes as they sway. Her arms are around his neck and his fingers lace together at the small of her back, but they can't press in very close thanks to Allie's ever-expanding baby bump. The sight makes me smile.

I know trouble is coming. I don't think we're safe from Rourke. Not yet. But at least for now, everything is right with the world.

Alodia

So I get to spend my Saturday in Vegas. I get to watch my best friend be legally married to the love of his life, and I get to fall asleep that night beside mine. No one dies in my dreams that night. But I wake in the gray hours of the morning with vague memories of a journey home. It should have been simple and straightforward, just a straight shot driving down a long road, but somewhere along the way, the road twisted and turned dusty. I lie in bed with River swimming languidly in my womb, listening to Jake's soft breathing and the hum of the air conditioning as I carefully collect the scattered images of my dreams, laying them out in my brain like puzzle pieces.

They don't add up to much, and they're more than a little ridiculous now that I am awake. When the smooth stretch of paved highway that I drove down turned to a dusty dirt road, the sudden appearance of train tracks lead to a locomotive that seemed to actively pursue me like a smoke-belching dragon. At some point I escaped, but ended up driving on a track of rollercoaster instead. Somehow I must have exited the car, because the next thing I knew, I was at Hartfeld. My friends were all there, busy with classes and activities. I think Rourke was there, too. He was playing with beakers, rambling about something to do with the island, with the Endless, with Project Janus. But I was striding purposefully through the main halls, laser-focused still on getting home, convinced that all I had to do was keep going straight. I must have gotten home at some point, because the next I knew, I was in bed with Jake. But not here and now, in a Vegas hotel. It couldn't have been, because I wasn't pregnant. Instead, there was a form between us. Small and fair-skinned, like me and like Jake. Blue-eyed, of course, but with chestnut hair; a blend of my blonde and his sandy brown. A perfect blend of the two of us. I roll carefully to face Jake's peacefully sleeping form, scooting closer to drape my arm over him.

I've never actually been religious, not even in this timeline. And it's a little hard now to think of God in the traditional sense with what the Endless put the Vaanti through on her quest to protect us. But sometimes I can't help praying to whoever or whatever power might be listening.

Please... I send a thought out into the universe as I hold the image of the chestnut-haired child in my mind. Please let this be what I'm heading toward...

Jake

We do actually end up spending most of Sunday at Santa Monica Pier, which I don't regret. Exciting as Vegas is, it's nice to have a quieter day to close out the weekend. We play air hockey and pinball at the arcade, visit the aquarium, ride the ferris wheel, eat fries and sandwiches for lunch, and end the afternoon with ice cream and a walk along the docks.

The newlyweds are predictably eating more ice cream off each other's faces than their own cones. They may have been married and living together for the last five years, but I guess there's no escaping the giddy afterglow of a wedding. I'm kinda feeling it myself. When Varyyn and Diego finally manage to finish their cones, there's nothing left between them and passionately kissing and groping. In a blink, Varyyn has Diego's back pressed against a lamppost. I chuckle, bending to press a kiss to the curve of Alodia's neck.

“Those two seem to have forgotten us,” I murmur. “Wanna go get some sand between our toes?”

“Absolutely.”

We toss our cups into the trashcan and make our way down to the beach, taking off our shoes and socks to carry in hand as we walk.

“That was a real nice little wedding,” I remark. “Not sure it tops the first one, though.”

“Well, the first one had everyone there,” Alodia points out. “Though admittedly, you and I didn't get much chance to witness it, being a bit distracted.” She playfully kisses my cheek. I lace the fingers of my free hand through hers, and bend to kiss the top of her head.

“You ever think you might wanna do that someday? Get a license for the two of us and legally get hitched.”

She hesitates for a moment. “...Do you?”

I shrug. “Maybe. I ain't thinking it's a necessity, though there are practical advantages. I wasn't thinking it would be any time soon, either. Think we got enough on our plates as is with the baby due.”

She nods. The relief in the smile she gives me doesn't escape me. “Yeah. As fast as everything has been happening since I got back...I'm not sure I could handle a second wedding right now. Besides...as much as I know it's been more than five years for you...it hasn't been nearly as long for me.”

“No, I guess it hasn't. ...Guess it's like when we went through the portal and wound up six months ahead. We came out still looking like hell after the battle, and we found Diego with a beard and long hair.”

“Yeah. Exactly.” She sighs. “I think I'd like to live as husband and wife the way we were supposed to before we make it official out here.”

“...I seem to recall us making plans to have a little cottage on the island way back when. ...A mansion in Laguna Beach is a bit of a leap.”

“Well, not too much when you really think about it. If everything had stayed the way it was, we probably would have lived at the Celestial until our cottage got built. We'd have our friends around us...all of us together on our own private island...” She trails off, and I get the sense we're venturing into painful territory. I put my arm over her shoulders and pull her close to my side, kissing the top of her head.

“I guess it's a little too early for me to be thinking about how I'm gonna top this come Valentine's Day.”

She lays her head on my shoulder. “Come Valentine's Day, we'll be in Northbridge. All the Catalysts together again.”

“You just saw everyone two weeks ago. Miss them that much already?”

“Is that weird?”

I smile. “Nah. I miss 'em, too. It'll be good to see 'em again. Help with the last-minute prep for the wedding.”

She snorts. “And what kind of prep are you going to be doing? From what I hear, while I'm getting fitted for my bridesmaid dress, you and the men are going to be having wild times at the bachelor party Craig's planning.”

“Mmm, yeah. And knowing him, it will be a properly debauched affair.”

“Knowing the groom, it won't be too debauched, or else Craig will never hear the end of it.”

“You're right. Sean's a decent, modest sort of man.” I smile at her and she smiles back. She sighs, and the sound is content. I put an arm over her shoulders and she nestles into me. “...I'm not, though. I'm a lowlife lecher.”

She snorts. “Yeah, right. After five years, it's a miracle I don't have jealous ex-lovers assaulting me every day for stealing you away.”

“Of course not. They all hate me so much, they're just secretly shaking their heads, thinking you're just my latest poor victim.”

“And none of them have come forward to warn me? That's not very...” She trails off and doesn't say anything long enough that I frown.

“Very what?” I prompt.

She lifts her head, turning to look at my face. “...Jake...I think...I've had a thought about how Rourke...how he disappeared.”

I reflexively glance around, making sure we're not in earshot of anyone who might give us funny looks. I take her shoulders gently and kiss her forehead. “Not here. Tell us all together in the car.”

* * *

The atmosphere is anxious as we buckle ourselves in and I start the car. She told Diego and Varyyn the same thing she told me. That she's had a thought about how Rourke faked his death.

“What's your thought, Alodia?” Varyyn asks.

“Do you remember that...demonstration Rourke gave us when we got to MASADA? When Sean and Zahra and Craig and I were disguised as Arachnid? You know, the thing he did with the beakers and the liquified crystal?”

“...Yeah...” Diego confirms. “...Kinda.”

“I have an image in my mind of him plucking a full beaker out of thin air. He talked about the Endless being able to do that herself. And...I know he was right. What if he found away to do that himself?”

“But...how? How would he do that?”

“The same way he did it with the beakers. ...And possibly the same way the Endless did it. With the crystals.”

Varyyn shakes his head. “No...no, the time crystals were not strong enough. Only the Island's Heart had enough power.”

“He has the Prism Crystal now. That's made from my life energy. And I'm the missing piece of the Island's Heart. Not to mention the Endless. ...I think the Prism Crystal has enough power.”

“To do what exactly?” I ask. “Pluck himself out of the air like a beaker?”

“Well, that's a phrase I never thought I'd hear,” she quips. “But...yeah. Basically. ...I think the Prism Crystal could have enough power to allow Rourke to pluck another version of himself out of time and space. And kill that one. Or...apparently, make that one kill himself.”

“...And Daddy Weirdbucks is fucking twisted enough that I bet he could convince an alternate version of himself to commit suicide if it would put him toward his purpose,” I growl. “One problem with that theory, Princess, is that he doesn't have the Prism Crystal. I'm pretty sure Tahira would have told you if he'd gotten ahold of it.”

“What about Liquid Prism?”

“...I guess...if he managed to get his grimy paws on that stuff, he could find a way to use it...”

“And it's definitely possible he found a way to get some,” Diego murmurs, a tremor in his voice. “I've never stopped believing he had other lackeys running around doing his bidding.”

Alodia nods. “I'll call Tahira first thing when we get home.”

“It's gonna be three hours later for her than for us.”

“I know she won't mind. Not for something this important.”

* * *

I think Tahira was in bed when we called, but Alodia's right. She doesn't mind being bothered. We sit in the kitchen with her on speaker and tell her about our theory.

“I don't know anything about how Rourke could have gotten his hands on Liquid Prism. But it is possible it wasn't all off the streets before he disappeared.” She's quiet for a moment. “It's kind of a coincidence that you called tonight. The thing is...there have been some developments here. Caleb warned us of two pretty formidable criminals who have their eyes on the Prism Crystal. The Crystal is safe at the moment. But...just a few hours ago, Grayson told me that an entire crate of Liquid Prism has gone missing from the lab.”

Zahra

“Well, fuck me sideways...” I sit back in the chair in Santiago Lupo's office, reviewing his security tapes. “There's...nothing. Nothing at all. It's like they're ghosts. And the security systems weren't tripped at all?”  

“That's why Mr. Prescott insisted we make contact with you,” Santiago says. “He thinks the systems might have been hacked, and apparently, you're a genius with security systems and...figuring out if they have been hacked...”

“Well, he's not wrong. ...I have to wonder if this footage has been doctored at all. I can't see any sign of it right away.”

“Maybe they're using stealth suits,” Grayson suggests. “Dax was working on something like that.”

“Yeah,” I murmur. “I've encountered technology like that before myself.”

Of course, we both know he's referring to the same stealth suit that Eva claims to have 'borrowed indefinitely.' But I'm thinking of someone else. Someone who once put a katana to my back and demanded the Island's Heart. Still, I don't think stealth suits alone would be enough to pull off a heist like this. I'm looking at security footage that shows the liquid prism being locked away in a safe for the night, and then goes to the next morning when the lab tech returns to set everything up, only to discover the stuff missing. The door to the safe never even opens on the footage I'm looking at.

“There's gotta be something we're missing here,” I muse aloud. “Leave this footage with me. I'll go over it with a fine-toothed comb. I'll figure out what we're looking at.”

Caleb

It feels weird to be meeting Tahira in the underground Prescott facility where we were both prisoners, but as she pointed out, it's safe. It's not currently in use, and it's unlikely anyone who isn't in on our secrets is going to find us here.

I light up and take a drag, exhaling smoke as I lean against the smooth metal-enforced wall. Tahira looks at the cigarette between my fingers with faint distaste, but she doesn't say anything.

“...So, it was just the liquid that went missing?” I ask. “The crystal's safe?”

“It's safe. We've got it protected.” She pauses. “You don't suppose there's any chance your...associates are behind this, do you?”

“They came in and got out without leaving a trace. If Gigi or Stonewall has that ability, I don't know about it. Don't think it's their style, either. In their own separate ways, they both like to leave impressions. They want to be noticed.”

“I can see why they thought you'd fit in, then,” she quips. I make a face.

“Low blow, hero. Accurate, but low.” I take another drag. “In any case, I'll keep my eyes and ears open. If that liquid prism hits the streets, it won't be long before news starts filtering through the underground.”

“Honestly, having it on the streets isn't what worries me.”

“No?”

“That stealth tech they may have been using? ...Minuet has Dax's only working stealth suit at the moment. ...But...” She trails off into a loaded silence.

“...But...what?” When she still doesn't answer after awhile, I press further. “You think it might be an inside job? Someone who has access to his research?”

“...I guess that is a possibility...”

“But it's not the one you were thinking of?”

She sighs. “Talos and Minuet would say I shouldn't share this with you...but...Dax isn't the only one who was working on stealth tech. There was a branch of the military that had access to a stealth suit at least five years before Dax's version was perfected.”

“And...you know this how?”

“I have my sources. But that's all you're getting for now.” She frowns, her left hand drifting to cover the wristband secured just above the joint on her right forearm. “...Hang on a sec. Someone's calling.”

“Right. Secret hero stuff. Should I plug my ears?”

“I'll just take it in the next cell,” she replies with a smirk. She steps out of sight, and I hear her murmuring to whoever has contacted her. When she comes back, her expression has turned dark.

“Big trouble, I'm assuming?”

“Not sure. Minuet's found something that concerns her.”

“Something to do with the liquid prism?”

“Worse,” she says grimly. “Seems a young woman approached her outside the hospital and left some strong hints that she had been the victim of something organized and ugly, and that she wasn't the only one. Minuet's worried she's talking about human trafficking.”

“...That's not outside the realm of possibility,” I concede. “Plenty of fucks who'll take advantage of the desperate and vulnerable. Saw enough of that in my time.”

“And did nothing to stop it, I assume.”

“Hey! I never claimed to be a hero, but I've never been a bully, either. I've never gone after anyone who couldn't fight back.”

“But those people still end up getting hurt,” she retorts. “Remember the little girl who almost burned to death when you attacked the DMV?”

I scowl. Her assessment of me smarts in spite of everything. “Okay, fine. I'm scum. Guess I should leave you to go be a hero.”

“I certainly don't have any time to waste. I'll see you around, Caleb.”

“Right.”

She leaves. For awhile, I debate following her. I flip-flop long enough that my window of opportunity undoubtably closes. It's getting late by the time I leave. Late enough that I should start figuring out where to sleep. The January night air is bitterly cold, and I hunker down in my coat, pulling the collar up over my face. Definitely a night for the homeless shelter. Sleeping in my van will likely result either in me freezing to death or setting the damn thing on fire to keep warm.

There aren't many people out on the streets. At least, not in the neighborhoods I'm walking in. Not much nightlife around here. I do recognize one person that I pass on the sidewalk. Kenji Katsaros, son of the DA. What he's doing in this neighborhood, I don't know. It's pretty late for photo ops, and philanthropy isn't really his style, either. That's more Grayson Prescott's thing. Ahh, but what do I care. He's not bothering me, just blabbing on his phone. ...Whatever he's talking about, it's clearly troubling him. He steps aside for me as we pass, but barely looks at me.

“Yeah...I'll make sure Mom knows. ...Right. …Be careful, Tahira.”

The name stops me in my tracks. I turn back to look at him, but he's walking on, his back to me, totally unaware of my presence. My thoughts start to race too fast for me to follow, like there's a bomb going off in my head, or a power surge or a short circuit that leaves only intuition functioning. I can barely understand what I'm thinking. All I know is I should follow him. I'm good enough to do it without him realizing.

I really don't know why I'm doing it. I don't actually know what language the name Tahira comes from—Turkish, maybe?—but I'm sure she's not the only Tahira in the whole city of Northbridge. But I happen to know that Kenji Katsaros is closely associated with the Tahira I know. They work together at The Grand. Also, he's heading towards the DA's office. Which makes sense, if he's going to let his mother know something. But why doesn't he just call her?

Not far from city hall, Kenji abruptly ducks into an alley. A narrow path between the buildings that could be serving for a shortcut...except that he's supposed to be going to the DA's office. I press myself flush against a wall and ease myself into the alley a safe distance behind him, keeping to the shadows. He almost certainly never realizes I'm there, because in the next moment, his skin turns to bronze, and everything falls into place.

Well, shit. ...Kenji Katsaros is Talos.  

I make it to the shelter, but I don't remember getting there. I get myself a bed, but I don't really sleep. I guess that explains why he hates me more than either Tahira or Minuet do. I tried to kill his mom. Fuck. That means winning his trust is going to be a lot harder than I realized.

I think it's going to be to my advantage to lie low for awhile. At least until I figure out what I'm going to do with this information.

Eva

The next couple weeks seem to pass very quickly. Tahira, Kenji, and I have our hands full for awhile with the trafficking ring, but let's face facts, its days were numbered once we got wind of it. By February, it's been shut down, and the three of us meet with Dax and Poppy at The Grand to celebrate. Tahira helps me get home afterward, but once I get there and climb into bed, I can't sleep. Of course, that doesn't entirely surprise me. Dad has a doctor's appointment in the morning. I never sleep well before his doctor's appointments.

He's actually been doing really well. Thanks to Tahira helping me expose Mayhew, we were able to afford experimental treatments. He went into remission not long after we got Tahira back from the crystal dimension, and since then, the doctors tell me that everything has continued to be encouraging. But I can't relax. No matter how encouraging his scans, I can't shake the feeling that my father is living on borrowed time. And for all that I can put people in slow motion...I can't actually slow time down.

We arrive at the hospital's outpatient clinic with plenty of time for Dad to playfully flirt with the receptionists. He charms them as usual, and when we're taken back, we leave the waiting room in a cloud of good humor.

“You have the entire staff of this place wrapped around your finger, Dad,” I remark as I help him into a hospital gown. “I guess it helps that you flirt like it's going out of style.”

“Life is short, mija,” he says with a grin. “I will live every moment with gusto.”

My hands pause on the strings of the gown. “...I wish you wouldn't say things like that at a time like this.”

“...I'm sorry, mija. That was insensitive of me. All this is so much harder on you than on me.”

“Is it really, though? You're the one who's gone through all the pain and sickness.”

“That is difficult, it is true. But I think it is easier for me to endure than for you to watch. ...And the thought that I might die almost certainly frightens you more than it frightens me.”

“How much does it frighten you?”

He shrugs. “I don't want to die. You're still young enough that I had hoped to see many more years with you. But I don't worry about it like I would if you were still a little girl and I were leaving you without parents. You're a strong, capable young woman. And if I die in the near future, I will die with confidence that you will be all right.”

I don't say anything to that. I finish tying his gown and put my arms around his shoulders to kiss his cheek.

Not long after, the medical shenanigans get underway, and conversation becomes functional. At the end of it, the doctors are smiling, and it seems my father is still doing well. As he gets dressed, my father smiles at me with a twinkle in his eye.

“When you were a little girl and I took you to the doctor, you always got ice cream afterwards if you were brave. I think we have both been very brave today. What do you say? Do we deserve ice cream?”

“Ice cream in February?”

“I won't tell if you don't.”

So of course, thirty minutes later, we're in the glass-ceilinged atrium of Northbridge Mall, sitting on a bench in front of the fountain and watching the bubble and flow from the jets while we methodically lick the sweet, creamy heads of our ice cream cones.

“Almost like having a summer moment indoors,” my father remarks.

“If you ignore the Valentine's Day decorations and the snow outside,” I reply, gesturing up at the skylights, where a steady swirl of snowflakes is clearly visible. “I wish it were summer. I'm getting sick of winter.”

“I am grateful for winter,” Dad murmurs. “Because at this moment, it is winter. And I am grateful for this moment.”

I look back down at my cone. I dig a chunk of cookie dough out of the small vanilla hill with the nail of my index finger.

“Is that the secret to happiness then? Just be grateful for the moment?”

“I don't think it's a secret, mija. Or a guarantee of happiness. But it is how I have chosen to live since I got sick. The fact is that everyone's time is limited. Mine might be more limited than I once expected. But right now, I am alive. I am alive, and I find that this moment is worth living. ...I look forward to summer. But right now it is winter. And winter is beautiful in its own way. I won't ignore the beauty that exists now because I am waiting for something that is yet to come.”

I sigh, slipping my arm through his and laying my head on his shoulder. I feel him kiss the top of my head lightly. He has an undeniable point. I can't actually slow down time. I won't try to rush it either. It's winter, my father is alive, and I have a sugar cone topped with cookie dough ice cream. Right now, that's all I need.

Michelle

Friday morning, I wake up an hour before my alarm. I should be irritated. I don't even have to be up with my alarm, considering that I have the day off. I only set the damn thing to keep some semblance of a routine in place. But I'm not actually annoyed at all. It's excitement that has me awake so early. Today, my friends arrive from California. They're here so that my maid of honor and Sean's last couple groomsmen can have their final fittings at the tailors. It needs to be done now so that if there are any adjustments that need to be made, we'll have time to make them. I roll towards Sean, still dead to the world and snoring a little, and drape my arm over him.

In only a little over a month, I am finally going to be his wife.

*****************************************************************************************

BTW, the song Diego and Varyyn dance to is a real song. It is called Amor de mi Alma, and it is beautiful.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R0xtyjJ8eYo

Also, here is a translation.

I was born to love only you; My soul has formed you to its measure; I want you as a garment for my soul. Your very image is written on my soul; Such indescribable intimacy I hide even from you. All that I have, I owe to you; For you I was born, for you I live, For you I must die, and for you I give my last breath.

#pixelberry choices #playchoices #choices stories you play #Endless Summer #hero #Jake McKenzie #Diego Ricardo Ortiz Soto #sean gayle #raj bhandarkar #Craig Hsiao #aleister rourke #quinn kelly #estela montoya #zahra namazi #michelle nguyen #grace hall #grayson prescott #dax darcisse #poppy patel #eva minuet

[laws-yellow-submarine]

3, 4, 8 for skylar and hazel!!

Ahhhhh ok, I'll do these in 2 sections just so it's easier to read lol also I'll try not to ramble since it'll already be kinda long 😅

Skylar:

3. Does your s/i have a full backstory yet? Or is it still in the works? If it's done can we see it?:

Skylar's backstory is pretty much done (I'm constantly adding/subtracting/moving things around but the core of it stays the same). Basically she's a bisexual disaster whose girlfriend joined the marines as a way to earn some money for them to leave home (very domestic), but her ship was blown to pieces by a pirate crew and she's presumed dead. Meanwhile, Skylar's parents are pretty archaic in their thinking (they run a huge business empire, both legal and on the black market, and their goal has always been to keep it in the family), they're also violently homophobic (and don't believe people can be into more than one gender, so the fact Skylar was in love with a woman is her "choosing" a side in their minds), and there's the implication of a sorta conversion therapy kinda thing that happens in between her girlfriend leaving and the start of the actual story. The week before the story starts it's decided she's been "good" enough to allow some freedom once again, and one day when a certain yellow submarine pulls into the harbor, Skylar makes the snap decision to run away (she's dealt with emotional and physical abuse for a very large chunk of her life, so even though it's not a well thought out plan and could very likely get her killed, she'd rather try to leave than stay under their thumb). She does end up getting caught (of course) and convinces Law she's just an idiot (no bad intentions towards his crew) and he does agree to let her live, but even after getting to the next island she ends up right back on his sub and they bargain for her to work on the sub in exchange for room and board (she thinks it's because nobody else wants to cook, but part of Law's reasoning is she dropped a comment about the black market and "some guy named Joker" that her parents are always talking about, and while she doesn't know who Joker actually is or anything about it, Law's gears are spinning and he figures he can use her for information somehow in the future)

And then shenanigans 😂😂

4. How did your s/i feel when they first met your f/o(s)? How do they feel about them now?

She was terrified of him 😂😂 Skylar absolutely knew who's ship she was sneaking onto but she chose to do it anyway, and he threatened to remove her limbs the first night they met lol but she does grow to care for him pretty quickly. She's a very emotional person, which helps her read emotions in others a lot easier than most, so she can read him really well (which tbh terrifies him and pisses him off for a long time until he stops being a butt about his own feelings lol)

8. Does your s/i have any kind of powers?

Skylar has a so far unnamed devil fruit, but it's kind of a mixture of a few existing ones (i had already come up with hers before I saw them in canon so I tried to make it work so it wasn't the same lol) technically the ability is the ability to manipulate light particles (inspiration from marvel's Invisible Woman ✌). She mostly uses it to camouflage herself/turn invisible, but she eventually learns a sort of force field technique (like the hardened light bridges in portal 2) and that same technique can be used as a way to "fly" in some cases (but it's very draining so she doesn't use it often when she does learn it). She also ate the fruit totally on accident, thinking it was something else, and is really upset that she can't swim anymore, but can't deny it REALLY comes in handy lol

Hazel:

3:

So when I said self-indulgent I meant it lmao she's Luffy's older sister (blood relative), older by 4 years (so older than Ace and Sabo by 1 year. She's the BIG sister lol). Most of her backstory follows the same as Luffy's, though she definitely caused less trouble. She also can't really remember their parents despite being 4 when he was born (it's not too farfetched, especially if they went to Foosha Village when they were that young), but she can remember snippets of Dragon's face, and a voice she thinks is her mother's if she tries hard enough. The biggest thing is that she can remember the first time she saw her baby brother, and how he seemed to be beaming at her even as a newborn, and her "older sibling" instinct immediately set in (the stronger Luffy gets the less he needs her to "protect" him, but she's always going to, and that extends to the other 2 as well later on). Unfortunately this does turn into a sort of maternal instinct for a while, and she has a kind of maturity complex, but after more adults join the crew and tell her "YOU ARE STILL A LITERAL CHILD GO HAVE FUN" she eventually chills out a little lol

4.

Soooo I haven't actually decided who she'd end up with, if anyone, yet lol the thirsty part of me says Law, but I think she'd fit with Nami or even Zoro well too (and unfortunately I think she'd fit really well with Ace as well but that treads into iffy territory that I'm not sure how to navigate yet)

Either way: with Zoro she spends the whole first day with him on the crew apologizing for Luffy's antics (he no longer cares), she's honestly initially suspicious of Nami (nobody wants to hear it though), but now both girls are fiercely protective of each other, with Law he'd just finished patching her up after Marineford, she shouldn't even be moving around yet, and she pulls a knife on him that he better not try anything funny with Luffy (highkey overprotective since he's now her ONLY brother and on the brink of death), but after Luffy recovers she comes to respect him, and at Punk Hazard she's one of the first to trust him with the alliance (though he does make a few quips about her almost stabbing him, which she shrugs off).

She actually got into quite a few fist fights with Ace when they first met for "being mean to Luffy", but with everything that happens with those kids she comes to love him deeply and is devastated by his death (I kinda feel like if anything were to have happened between them it would've been while they were teenagers, mostly due to hormones but the feelings were still real, but they decided not to pursue it further and he left to become a pirate while she stuck around to wait for Luffy, so by the time they're adults it's no longer romantic love? Idk yet lol I started shipping them on accident and now I have to make it work without it being...yikes lol)

8.:

Hazel doesn't have any devil fruit powers, but she does have a robot leg (lost it in Enies Lobby, Franky hooked her up. Complete with knee-pistol and roller blade), and during the time skip she first learns some basic Fishman Karate from Jinbei before he goes back to Fishman Island, and then she trains with Hancock and the Kuja Pirates (which only happens as a favor to Luffy, and even then ONLY because she's his sister and therefore not a rival lmao)

#ahhhh thanks for asking Lychee #long post #one piece oc #valentine skylar #monkey d. hazel #self insert #fan fiction #s/i ask meme #I hope anything I wrote actually made sense lmfao #Skylar is DEFINITELY the more developed one but that's cause I'm actually trying to write her story #while Hazel is more just fun for me while I'm watching so I feel like I can interact with the world in some way #i promised not to ramble and now I'm rambling in the tags #aight I'm OUT 😂

[ionica01]

This is out of blue but... “You’re my roommate who’s super cute and it’s the middle of the night and you’re cramming for your exams in your flannel pajamas and disheveled hair and it’s becoming increasingly hard for me not to kiss you” AU. Izuocha\Karmanami please?

Hey Adi! It’s been so long:) This was my IzuOcha week contribution for day 4: Domestic! You always give me the best prompts and ideas, hehe~!! I hope you enjoy!

People have vastly different ways of dealing with crushes. Most of them have some sort of crisis, phone their best friends and drive them insane with increasingly absurd poetic descriptions of how cute the object of their affection is, finding new metaphors for love as if, unless put into words, the feeling isn’t real. Others bottle it all up, stealing glances at the person they hold special feelings for, as if that will provide a model for them to paint over, a sketch on the otherwise blank canvas of their life, the start of an enriching work of art. For some, it’s just instinct, as if they’re touch-starved and they need to fulfill some animalistic urge.

Izuku, of course, knows all of this, because he has extensively studied how people deal with crushes ever since he realized he didn’t miraculously catch a cold every time he thought his roommate was cute. It’s also by overanalyzing all this data that he realized his way of coping with crushes is overanalyzing all the data.

This is the thought process that Midoriya Izuku has followed to reach the predicament he is in, and why, he discovers, studying with Uraraka is highly distracting. Because, if there is one thing all crushes have in common, is that the presence of said crush is the holiest blessing and cruelest curse at the same time, mocking all paradoxes known to mankind.

He tries - he really does - to be neither in the stealing glances category, nor in the poetic descriptions one. Unlike everything else Izuku has succeeded in, hard work fails him miserably this time around.

It’s not his fault that he’s already done with his assignment for All Might and that the light in the living room falls just so, the soft glow teasing Uraraka’s tousled hair and the loose threads of her flannel pajama, at least one size too big and definitely unironed. Her focused face is shaped as a pout, her teeth gingerly grazing the ends of her pencil as she taps her fingers to the desk and furrows her brow. It’s not his fault, but he isn’t innocent either, because it’s all Izuku can do not to lean over and poke the imperfect crease that makes her perfect.

Her sigh stirs him out of his contemplative state as she bangs her forehead against the table, raising her hands in defeat. Izuku allows a laughter to bubble out of him, even though it attracts a heavy “Ughhh” from his friend.

“Stop laughing!” she sulks, weakly throwing a pencil in his direction. Izuku dodges, eliciting another groan from Uraraka, who repeatedly slams her forehead against her notebook, as if urging the physics formulas to enter her brain and stay there.

“I have never been defeated by physical laws in real life, so why must theory take its revenge on me?” she groans, her lower lip jutting into an illegally adorable pout, one that Izuku tries his hardest to pretend he hasn’t seen, because it’s doing atrocious things to his heart. Treacherous thing, these feelings blooming inside him faster than weeds that bleed into perfectly planned gardens.

In an attempt to shift his focus from the thrumming beats of his heart, echoing loudly and clearly in his ears, he leans over her notebook and asks, “Magnetism?”

“Electrons are small, so why are they such a big headache?” she dramatically sighs, flapping her arms around her before eventually slumping on the carpet.

If theoretical physics is toying with Uraraka, then real life physics is poking fun at Izuku, because her oversized shirt isn’t supposed to ride over the edge of her pants and reveal a strip of her smooth skin, nor is her exhausting face presumed to be so endearing, the eyebags bringing out the sparks in her eyes and her pale face looking like porcelain in the light of her desk lamp.

Izuku gulps and tries to focus on the words formed by her lips instead of the way they move, trying to process the meaning of what she’s saying instead of wondering what it would feel like to press his mouth to hers, to taste the oily fries they had for dinner, because they live up to the broke student legend and have midnight McDonald’s happy meals to keep them going during the exams.

To refrain himself, Izuku discovers that reciting all of the hormones that cause him to feel such physical attraction does the trick, and he offers her a hand to pull her up. “Tell you what,” he says as she bats his arm away dramatically. “You make it through this theory paragraph and I’ll pay for lunch tomorrow.”

She bolts back to a sitting position, eyes glimmering with the promise of an actual meal - for free. “You mean that?”

Izuku nods, biting the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling at the delighted look on her face, the look that makes his heart thump faster than it should. “Deal!” she says, picking up the pen with newfound determination.

Uraraka has no idea what her puffed out cheeks and sudden “aha” moments that light up her face and made her hair bob along with her nods do to Izuku, no clue how his eyes drift from the page of his English assignment to her nimble fingers tapping the spine of her book, no hint that his mind is running through scenarios of how this evening could unfold, scenarios he has to shut down before they get too far.

He’s always been focused on the goal in front of him, but lately, he’s been wondering what it would feel like to make Uraraka part of that goal. She’s been his best friend since high school, yet somewhere along the line, his attachment to her morphed into something that scares Izuku, a feeling so strong it’s choking him and threatening to push him over the line painted by an invisible hand between them.

When she looks up from her notebook with uncontained glee an hour later and gives him an uninhibited grin, however, caution is thrown to hell. Izuku can’t bring himself to recite all the hormones again, neither does he seem to see the line he’s crossing at 100 kmph. All he sees is his hand, raising to her face to tuck the unruly hair behind her ear, but it doesn’t feel like it’s attached to his body.

The word, “DONE~” dies on her lips as her lips as her eyes widen, and a blanket of crimson coats her childish features. Maybe Izuku should have asked her, but it’s too late now, and he closes his eyes before pushing the accelerator pedal and crashing his lips into hers.

It’s really clumsy, and he finds himself wishing he had read more extensively on what do do with a crush instead of crushes themselves. He has twenty seconds before the adrenaline will leave his system, and he uses his time to run his hand through the knots in Uraraka’s hair, to breathe in the mango scented soap she uses and the strawberry chapstick that engulfs the faint oily aftertaste of fries, and to faintly hear her dropping her pen.

Her hands clutch around his shirt before he can pull back sheepishly, and her lips suddenly move against his with urgency. She’s even clumsier than him, bumping their noses and foreheads more than once, and drawing away with crimson stained cheeks and short of breath, but her earnest chocolate eyes stare into his with a sense of awe and wonder.

“Uhm,” he tries, suddenly unsure what one is to say after having kissed one’s best friend without any warning. Words weren’t created for the predicament Izuku is in, and he finds himself retracting his hand from her hair to scratch the side of his cheek, and feel it burning. He lacks data on this pivotal moment, and realized how poorly constructed his attack plan was.

“Waw,” Uraraka manages, more eloquent than him. “I-”

“I’m sorry!” Izuku suddenly blurts. She blinks at him blankly, and he elaborates, “I don’t know what came over me, and I shouldn’t have-” he cuts himself off, because that’s not what he actually means. “I should have asked you before.”

Uraraka seems mildly amused with his rambles and asks in her teasing voice, “And if I had said no?”

Izuku holds her gaze evenly, finding a challenge to be honest in her eyes. “I don’t really know. I would be heartbroken, but I would have respected your decision. Is it a no, though?”

“No, it’s not,” she admits with a shake of her head.

“Is it a yes?” he asks with a small smile.

Uraraka’s face breaks into a lopsided smile and she closes in the distance between them, humming in approval as she presses her lips onto his, this time slower, silencing the ticking of the clock on the wall as they explore the vastness of this new form of them together.

It’s new, and it opens an endless trail of questions in Izuku’s mind, new territory to analyze and map, but mostly, it makes him realize this is more than a crush, because with Uraraka running her hands through his hair, just as messy as his, and with his hands on her waist, Izuku find himself falling.

And it’s the best feeling in the world.

#izuochaweek #izuochaweek2018 #izuocha #izuku midoriya #ochako uraraka #loveable dorks being dorks #day 4 #domestic #kind of