#tumblr you have a golden opportunity to get your shit together so can you not. ruin this. for me

[protect-namine]

I was gonna put these tags in tumblr's feedback form but like. if I was someone reading feedback, I'd honestly rather read something that's actionable (because sentiment is easy to understand but hard to make solutions for) so I'm just gonna draft here some suggestions before sending, because apparently, I have opinions. anyway this'll just be one of many, I'm sure staff will see a lot of suggestions in their time, so I'm not really expecting anything to come out of this. but uh, my two cents:

okay, first of all, what is tumblr? (I promise I'm going somewhere with this, it informs the actionable points later). I think it's obvious now that the tumblr userbase wants tumblr to stay true to what makes tumblr unique instead of copying what other social media sites are doing. but what is it that makes tumblr unique? why did people come here, and why have users stayed on this platform? a lot of us have been here for more than a decade now despite this site "slowly dying" and just hanging on by a miracle.

for me, what I like is how different tumblr culture is. tags function as community hubs, as ways to archive and organize individual blogs, and as quiet commentary. blogs are not treated like social media "user accounts" tied to an identity and one way of socializing. they are pseudonymous and flexible enough to function as a portfolio, a diary, an account to interact with other accounts, a collection of essays, anything really! it's a blog! you can do whatever you want! as much as we engage with other users, blogs are also a personal space just for you. this is your own little place on the internet, your own bulletin board. it can be anything you want it to be. and like, the pseudonymity thing (and not making follower count public) is important, I think, because it informs how users interact. nobody here gets influencer points. just do you. it's freeing in a way other sites aren't.

also, you can queue posts. how neat is that? I think it's cool because posts have longevity in this site, which also builds into site culture. this is why we have homegrown memes and inside jokes. posts don't disappear after 24 hours. you can reblog 10 year old posts if you think the art is really cool or the joke is really funny or the post is still relatable, and no one will find that weird.

and that's the thing, isn't it? tumblr is a microblogging site before it is a "social media" site. customizability is built into the platform. don't want an algorithm? you can opt-out on so many ways your dashboard can show posts. you can customize your blog theme and create your own tags to organize posts. you can change your dashboard colors. posts don't have a character limit and they give you so many tools for formatting. you can make sideblogs!! double, triple the blogs!! maybe you have a public fandom blog, an aesthetic blog, and a personal diary that you keep private. so many tools to make your experience flexible.

okay, so what are actionable things we can do to double down on what makes tumblr special? mind you, these are all just suggestions and like, I didn't really think of how easy or fast they will be to implement nor how much money this will rake in. but like. also, even if these suggestions are stupid hard to do, I believe that just showing the general direction of changes to do and prioritize should be reflected on showing off what makes tumblr different. and I hope to illustrate that here.

so, sticking on that theme of blogging and customizability:

we have a blog system. cool! you know what blogs have? about pages. tag pages. we used to make custom pages for this, now newer users just link their carrd. yeah, that's easier, but what if all tumblr blogs just had a default about page and tag page? like, you know what frustrates me about the mobile view for blogs? I have to manually link about and tag pages there (or carrd links, but I don't have a carrd). why can't it be a default thing? make all blogs have an about page and a tags page. users can turn it off if they don't want it. users can customize the pages further if they want to make it fancy. the tags page can list your top 10 tags or whatever as a start. we already show popular tags in a blog's search bar, so just take that to the next level. and this has the added benefit of reminding people that, hey, you have a blog and this is your playground for self expression. playgrounds are fun when there are toys! give users toys for their blogs, tumblr!

a functioning blog navigation system. what do all blogs have? well they have submissions and asks, and users will usually have some custom tags for them. blogs have a whole archive system that's underutilized and rather hidden. why not create a system that makes it easier to find all of these when scrolling through a blog? let users set their custom tag for asks and make that visible in the blog navigation menu, or just make them more accessible and easier to find. I don't want to go to the web version and type /archive in the url anymore. also, users can decide which ones to enable/disable in the nav system (maybe users don't want submissions or archives there, that's cool too).

users can see the top posts for a blog. cool! how about we make a customizable version of that? like, we can still keep the tumblr-generated top posts, but what if we let blogs have a user-generated highlights page as well? keep the highlights page limited to a couple of posts, maybe 10. artists can put their favorite art there. writers with their fics. fandom blogs with their meta essays and funny posts. aesthetic blogs with gifs and moodboards they're proud of. random posts about their day that they want people to know. maybe a blog has a combination of all of them to show the variety in their blog. give users a way to show what's generally on their blog in a flash. like top posts, but users decide which ones are the top one. like pinned posts, but longer.

we have a badge system. cool! how about we let users create their own custom badges? and let them share those badges with others? heck we can even make it a paid feature. I buy a badge from the marketplace, tumblr gets a small cut for distributing, but the creator gets most of the payment (this is important! pay your artists!). I mean, this is already a thing with blog themes (though idk, do people actually pay for themes these days?)

this one is just a personal thing, but aside from badges, can we get little hats for our icon/pfp/avatar/whatever people call it these days? like the top hat from that one april fools'. just a lil hat on the dashboard, I think that would be cute. :)

create an onboarding experience for new users. show users a guided tutorial on what settings they can opt in or out of, what they can customize on their blog, how to follow tags, and so on. maybe we don't need to appeal to how users from other sites use those sites. we want them to see what makes tumblr unique and how to actually see it. and I know what you're going to say. "oh, but the friction, protect-namine. the onboarding experience means it takes longer for users to start using the site". one: make it optional then. two: honestly, we probably should have more friction because we have a spambot problem. one of the best deterrents for spam is making it harder for them to start using the site.

tumblr is a playground and playgrounds need toys that are fun. tumblr live/tv? hate it. polls? love it, it builds community and everyone likes clicking buttons. layout change? don't like it, it makes tumblr look like other sites and it looks cluttered and takes attention away from the dashboard. ability to set popular tags in a blog search bar? love that, it makes my blog mine, now can we just extend this concept to every other change we can do for the site?

I am suggesting these things with love. maybe some of these suggestions are too hard or we don't have resources for them, maybe some of them are already in progress. I have no fucking idea. but I just think tumblr already has something going on for itself, and I would really like for that thing to keep going and be prioritized instead of seeing this site be cannibalized into something it isn't (a twitter clone).

#mine musings #tumblr #look man i need tumblr to survive for my mental health #i hate facebook i hate twitter i hate instagram there's no community in mastodon that appeals to me and reddit is fucked so like #tumblr you have a golden opportunity to get your shit together so can you not. ruin this. for me #long post #sorry for the long post i'm procrastinating at work

[onlyplatonicirl]

helloeth dear author headcANON here, my phone blew up for several hours and i wasnt able to get on tumblr :((( but now i can and now i will proceed to yell into your askbox. today we are making up shit about everyone's favourite cat, molly <33 i love her shes so silly

a calico is not a breed but rather a coat descriptor, a calico is a cat of any breed who displays an even coverage of three different colours, which is why i like to imagine that shes a calico norweigan forest cat, mostly because those cats are known to be absolutely bloody massive and according to the height chart (yes headcANON is old, old) molly is 7'4, plus they are very soft and fluffy

to me she literally looks like spottedleaf from warrior cats, just fluffier

this also makes me hc that if she were to be a human, she would be norweigan/slavic

she has heterochromia, one green eye and one blue eye and she used to be a bit self conscious about it but as soon as she hit her twenties like with most insecurities she just stopped caring

molly always had an interest in science, particularly in living sciences such as biology, ecology, zoology, and also monster-ology? bestiology? the study of monsters, i like to imagine this was spurred on from her childhood, i can see her coming from a family where her mum or dad was very sickly maybe with an incurable disease and so she wanted to set out and cure it, so she absolutely jumped at the opportunity to work for the council - to bad it wasnt everything she'd hoped it would be

perhaps molly may also be genetically prone to developing this disease later on in life, which would just make her want to research it even more

i also think she'd come from a working class family, she had to start working from quite a young age and throughout her time at college and uni

she is hard of hearing! because i am too, and shes one of my favourite characters :))

i think collars are a sort of fashion piece for cat monsters (dog monsters too), molly wears one, it was given to her by her mum, its a small green collar with a golden bell on it

her handwriting is really elegant, but most of the time she has to write quite quick so it turns into doctor-scratch

she was really good friends with life, i think theyd have tea together in life's garden

paints her claws :) probably pink or blue, takes real good care of em

she never really thought she would have kids, mostly because she doesnt like men lol, but she was open to adoption and has always been quite motherly and caring since she grew up the oldest out of her siblings

when she was unofficially tasked with looking after error, this side of her really came out, and she didnt quite know how to feel about it, she shouldnt be so nice to someone to like error, hes hurt people and if he wasnt so heavily drugged up, he could kill her too, but she didnt think he was like that, she saw the good in him, she listened to him babble on about the goings on inside of his dreams, and they would have short, disjointed conversations where she would ask him what was important to him, who he loved, his favourite food - she saw the side of him no one believed existed

she had nightmares for several nights leading up to the date of error's execution, worried that something would go wrong, worried that nothing would go wrong, worried that she'd be haunted by him knowing that this wasnt right

she used to have a big crush on sf!undyne, that attraction quickly died when she realised just how cruel she could be

on mollys breaks, she goes and writes haikus, it calms her down :)

did catnip once, never again

- headcANON

OOOOOOHHHHHHH YEAHHHHB THESE ARE FANTASTIC!! I feel like an angel just descended from the heavens and handed me this wonderful gift. These are so real and fit her character so well uWAHHHH.

Also she canonically is a lesbian!! I decided that a while ago. She gives me fem x fem vibes.

ANON I WOULD LIKE TO LET YOU KNOW, (and anyone else who may be reading this) LOOK FORWARD TO MORE MOLLY LORE SOON!!!!! HER STORY IS NOT OVER.

#ask lorel #anon #Molly tcoti #tcoti

[tamat3v]

req: hey mate sorry to like probably ruin your reputation here but can i request pseudo-incest dabi with like overstimulation and sadomasochism?

❥• this was from my other acc, this req has been sitting and rotting for m o n t h s, i added my own twists and tweaks here and there [nah like actually a lot💔💔 the main kinks in highlight are still overstim and sadomasochism(ish for this one) so it’s not too bad] so i hope it is enjoyed. coming up with a title for this was living hell so i’ll figure it out later 🚶🏾

w/c: none, cus i’m trying straight up on tumblr, so help me god but it’s a pretty decent reading length i suppose

Touya hated you- despised you for the very fact you walked the earth in his lifetime. You were the most cherished one, the sun of your parents and he was the other one, who’s name was apparently so unspeakable because he was the disappointment. He hated you, did everything in his power to show his mom and your dad that you were no good. He knew what you were, he heard all of those girls and boys screaming as you basically pounded them into your mattress every other night. Only he knew how you toyed with and threw away each and every single one of them after you had your fun and gotten your dick wet enough for the week.

Touya curses the ground you walk on. He abhors you so, then why is it that this time he’s slumped against his bed? Hearing the girl cry and you pant with his pants feeling too tight? Why, god tell him why he walked into the room, acting like it was a mistake. Why he screamed at the girl to get lost and it was a sight to behold, how she scrambled for her clothes and flew out the door like a hurricane.

You were seeing red at this point. You’d finally convinced her to get into your bed and that god forsaken raven head had to step in a mess up. You were livid, shirt crumpled slightly and raised up as you flung the other onto the bed, hand wrapped around his throat dangerously with ill intentions which pinned him flat to the bed and all he could do was struggle. “Touya, what the hell is wrong with you?”

Touya couldn’t tell you the answer but how he wondered the same thing. No normal person would like being brutally tossed to the bed, being choked heavy with all rage- which was absolutely deserved. The crown of the pile of issues was that his hard on was furious in his pants, straining against the fabric. This is wrong, all so wrong. You were brothers for goodness’ sake, you could literally kill him for goodness’ sake yet he liked the hurt and he wanted you even more. He tried to speak out but his words died long before in his throat all he could let out was a weak, failing sound- so pathetic. You were so sour at the pitiful face he was making but it soon turned into a bitter smile on your face. As much as you wanted to thrash him for butting in and stepping far out of line, you would just rock his shit differently.

Because little did he know that you knew what he did. Unlike your parents, you heard him beating his pathetic, weeping cock and mewling at the dead of night to his own step-brother. You had seen his book, pages filled with the most obscene and perverse desires and fantasies he had and you knew from that day on he was far worse than you would ever be. Something about that cruel upper hand you had over him just made your stomach twist and all the right ways, who were you to not use this golden opportunity that fate had dealt you?

“You know, Dabi, I’ve read that book of yours.” He immediately sprung to life, eyes popping out their sockets. “_____, I can explain, it’s really not what you think it is-“ There it was. You dropped one harsh and heavy handed slap on his cheek with no hesitation and he was silent, effective immediately. “I don’t remember asking you to talk, Touya-kun. I read each and ever single one of those pages. You’re so sick, you know that?” you spat, tone seething and acidic. “‘Bet you liked that slap, didn’t you? Being pressed up underneath me like this? I know who you are, Touya: a perverted whore.”

Oh how he was shaking under you, legs turning inwards with his thighs pressed so cutely together to quell the sweltering heat in his pants. He was dripping, tip pumping up those sinful tears non stop ‘till it was so sticky. Touya’s brain had switched off, eyes unfocused on you but a sharp slap to his thigh, right next to the throbbing hardness brought him back whimpering. You finally released his throat, purpled bruise marks adorning his skin as he choked in air, just for it to be knocked out of his chest when you flipped him onto his back.

“From now on until I decide I’m done with you, you have no say. Shut up and take it like the slut you are. I will not listen to you but I don’t think it’s need anyway. I know you’ll enjoy every single second of it like the freak you are.” You weren’t asking, simply stating. You ripped down his stupid, tacky pants and slid in, no warning needed. Touya was undone with that, tears stinging hard, his lower half even harder but he liked the pain- so much that he came immediately, crying out already and you were incredulous at the realization.

You slapped his ass harshly. He didn’t deserve your mercy, not that he wanted it anyways. His dark hair was disheveled as you began hammering into him relentlessly. He cried from the overstimulation- it hurt so good. His body was absolutely shredded and you were far from finished with him- so far from it. His mind was not computing the stimulation, he was numb but felt everything at the same time. Was this an out of body experience because this didn’t feel real at all. He was bordering consciousness when you squeezed another high from his spent body already.

What time was it now? Touya was lost in a different plane when you finally pulled out, daylight peaking through shut blinds and he was limp. He was beyond useless and he- he felt you push in once more and shredded attempt at a scream erupted from his torn up vocal box. “Oh? So you are still awake. You better be, you will take what I give you, Touya.”And you were so pleased with your work, yhe points in which you had hit on his body were bruising, heat still so close to the surface of his skin and it was perfect for you.

#wix.writes #OK MAYBE ITS NOT THAT GREAT BUT ITS A START #dark content #dabi smut #bnha dabi #tw.overstimulation #tw.sadomasochism #tw.pseudo-incest #dabi.writing #mha smut #bnha smut #dabi x male reader #x top male reader

[iamanonniemouse]

Okay, tumblr was being bitchy so @vector-to-the-heavens ​ had to dm me the questions she wanted to me answer for the Book Recs Ask Game. Let’s goooo--

3: a stand-alone that you wish was part of a series

Hmmmmmmmmm this is a gOOD one and yet I am BLANKING WHY

I guess maybe because I’m just thinking of how many shitty sequels are out there in the world lol

Okay, no honestly?? I can’t think of any book I wanted a sequel to or a series from, because the standalone books I adored all were just so perfectly wrapped up, and I feel like writing more would ruin them??? I SWEAR THIS ISN’T A COP OUT I HAVE BEEN SITTING HERE FOR LIKE 20 MINUTES.

But because I make the rules here, I will ABSOLUTELY take this opportunity to gush about a book that I don’t want a sequel to but a book I NEED to tell everyone about lol

I worship this book. I love everything about this book. It’s called Extraordinary Birds, by Sandy Stark-McGinnis. It’s about a girl named December. And it’s about foster care. But it’s about SO MUCH MORE THAN THAT. It’s about -- gah I don’t know that I even have words to summarize it other than This book is everything I would ever want a fiction book about adoption/fostering to be. It’s just so good. It was written with such LOVE and such CARE and just !!! Everyone should go read it.

:steps off soapbox:

:shoves this book into everyone’s hands:

62: a book with a forgettable plot but amazing characters

VEC STOP PICKING SUCH GOOD BUT HARD QUESTIONS DAMMIT

I read a book a couple months ago (:checks goodreads: *six months ago) called Fragile Remedy, by Maria Ingrande Mora and it wasn’t a forgettable plot but it was one of those books where the most special thing about it, hands down, was the characters and the way the author wrote the relationships between them. Like, the plot itself was okay? But damn the characters. I would die for them.

86: a book with an insane plot twist

One of the first books I remember reading that had a :gasp: plot twist was The Thief, by Megan Whalen Turner. The entire series is golden, for sure, but this was a book I read when I was probably elementary/middle school and I remember when I got the twist at the end (which really isn’t a HUGE twist in the grand scheme of things) and going O.O AMAZING.

Other plot twisty books I liked include

Bonds of Brass, Emily Skrutskie

Red Rising, Pierce Brown (Pierce Brown is AMAZING at plot twists)

The Poppy War, R.F. Kuang

The Mime Order, Samantha Shannon (book 2 of a series, but the twist on the LAST DAMN PAGE of this book sent me REELING i was like OOOOH SHIT)

104: a fluffy, sweet read

Okay, I’ve got TWO THREE because once again I MAKE THE RULES HERE and also this is going under a cut because wow I got SO carried away

Deal Maker, Lily Morton

Gah, this book is one of my comfort re-reads. It’s soft and sweet and filled with PLENTY of hilarious moments but also just such WARMTH. There is also a cute as hell child named Billy who is my favorite in the world. This book follows a model who ends up working as basically a temporary secretary to an award-winning actor, and it’s GREAT because when the actor (Asa) finds out Jude’s a model, he’s all like oh you’re too stupid for this job but whatever, do your best, and then Jude spends weeks if not MONTHS purposefully screwing everything up just to fuck with Asa. These hijinks include:

Drafting answers to fanmail with increasingly outlandish things

Telling Asa the journalist who arrived was the plumber

Bringing back a child’s suit from the dry cleaners and telling Asa, wide-eyed and innocently, that he thought Asa was going to slim into it

Red, White & Royal Blue, Casey McQuiston

Hilarious. Adorable. Enemies who have to pretend they’re friends -> actual friends -> secretly dating while pretending to be friends. One of those awesome, classic rom com plots except the main characters are the son of the president and a prince of England. Features hilarious moments like

the first son (accidentally!) pushing the prince of England into the wedding cake at a wedding

a bi-awakening that includes the MC trying to figure out if he’s bi and his best friend going, wait you didn’t know?? WAIT ARE YOU COMING OUT TO ME RIGHT NOW? OKAY WAIT LET ME GET MY SUPPORTIVE FACE ON.

a mom who prepares a SLIDESHOW when she finds out her son has been secretly dating the prince of England

demon turkeys (but not really)

our main characters and their friends wildly singing at a karaoke bar

and also really heart-warming, absolutely touching moments like

love letters are OUT love emails are IN, especially emails that have quotes from queer historic figures at the end

“I love him on purpose.”

both characters fighting to be together despite the metric TON of pressures on them not to

a secret date night in a museum after hours

This book is adorable, okay??

Boyfriend Material, Alexis Hall

I recced this in this ask too because it’s just adorable and hilarious. It has a brief bit of angst towards the end for that classic “we broke up but I want you back” bit (that isn’t nearly as cliche as you think it’ll be) but it’s absolutely hilarious and lovely and then hits you RIGHT in the face with feels and then has you laughing anyway because dammit you fell in love with these characters along the way and didn’t even realize. It’s got fake dating (and fake breakups and fake makeups) and crap I actually like you and SO MANY JOKES. And did I mention how damn English it is????

Aside from the joke I mentioned in the other ask, there’s a great scene right at the start of the book where the two main characters are having dinner together and it’s like

Oliver: I’m a barrister. Go on, get it over with, ask me the question everyone asks when they find out I work in criminal defence.

Luc, mind blank and panicking: Do you have sex in the wig?

Oliver:

Luc:

Oliver: The question people usually ask is how I can live with myself, putting murders back on the streets?

Luc: Ah. That’s a good question.

I am belatedly realizing all three of these books are set in England or involve an English character. Oops? I JUST REALLY ENJOY THESE BOOKS OKAY.

#mousie rambles #omg i get asks now #books #random

[birdwonder]

Could I get life with the Bucci gang + Trish headcannons from after they defeated Diavolo? Like what do they do after they have freedom to do whatever they want now? Everyone lives AU of course because I miss my children 😔

|| i am a tumblr n00b who can not find a way to directly link my rules into my bio but i don’t take part 5 requests juuust yet. BUT. i have been wanting to write for part 5 so i’ll probably make an exception for you, lovely anon, and do some headcanons/fics i’m able to do in the future, until i’ve finished Golden wind ~! also - you hit my feels man.

 i made them s/o related bc i’m so used to them that i didn’t realise that the request wasn’t specified for that :,) 

Bucci Gang | Happy Ending Headcanons 

Bruno Bucciarati 

- God, he wants nothing more than to finally have some peace and quiet. Remaining in the mafia isn’t even the least of his concerns, instead he wants to know what you want. Whether you joined him on his journey to take down Diavolo or not didn’t matter as he knew that either way, the stress of him dying and you being tangled up in his mess would have been enough to cause premature grey hairs.

- Even if he does return to the mafia as a Capo, he wants a vacation, just perhaps not somewhere in Italy. With Giorno’s new status, and his own being fairly high ranking, he has the funds to take you somewhere away from any gangs and drama. His first idea would be a holiday island so the two of you can relax on the beach and feel the cool water from the pool washing away all the anxieties you once had; a couple spa day would not be out of the question.

- A change in scenery such as a cold country wouldn’t be too bad either, though he feels like the preparation for that would be a little harder as he doesn’t own many winter clothes.

- During the holiday, the two of you would spend every evening in a 5-star restaurant, dining in front of the sunset with joy in your hearts. On your final night of your stay, Bruno seems to be the happiest he’s ever been the whole trip and you can only assume that the effects of taking a break had finally worked on him. “It’s so nice to see you smiling, amore,” you tell him, resting your hand over his own on the clothed table.

- “It’s all thanks to you, [F/N],” Bruno softly explains, standing up while taking your hand into his own, glancing at the slowly falling sun. “I feel like I’ve been through Hell and back, and yet every moment with you so far has been Heaven.” Your heart melts at his words, eyes softening when he turns to look at you. “I’ve risked everything ever since my father died, and it’s made me realise how short life can truly be…”

- You can only gasp when he lowers himself to a single knee, one hand intertwined with your’s and another holding a small, velvet box with a ring fit for you. “I want to cherish every day, hour and second with you, amore. Will you marry me?”

- Whether you say yes or no, he respects your decision and makes it his goal to enjoy ever last day with you in a beautiful house. He still works alongside Giorno and his gang, but never once steps into a fight or situation without you and both of your safeties in mind.

Leone Abbachio

- He needs a drink, and bad. Yet, you stop him and instead force him into your arms on a couch and hold him until you’re crying tears of joy that it’s all over and even he’s close to shedding one or two; his face buried into the top of your head and muttering that he’s so grateful he hasn’t lost you.

- From there, his need to live for something or someone changes. His goal is no longer to be on hand and knee for an authority, but to be with you.

- His loyalty to Bucciarati remains, especially when they had been through so much together, yet much like his friend, he takes things easier. Leone’s mood is not as bitter as it once was and he softens every time he comes home from work to see you waiting for him or you return from your own occupation - both of you ready for some serious intimacy.

- If you’re apart of the mafia, he might pressure you to leave and live easy with his support, but he knows that you’d have to be pretty hard-headed to join the Passione, so leaving won’t be easy.

- After a year or so since the Diavolo incident he’d really want to settle down. Officially, the two of you would be living together by now but the house is just too quiet, which says a lot for such a silent, kept to himself man. During dinner one day, his cheeks are flushed red and he can’t even bring himself to eat or look at you. Worried that you’ve done something wrong, you ask what was causing this mood and the response of “I want children,” makes your fork drop to the floor.

- It’s entirely up to you if you both have children but if you do want to start a family, he’ll be overjoyed. He wants to commit to you and a rugrat or more. After all the shit he’s been through, having the ideal happy family dream is everything he could want. Also, he’d be an incredible father and husband. Nothing comes before his family, not even a mission. 

Pannacotta Fugo

- oh shit oh fuck he’s lost. what does he do?

- There’s a good chance he hasn’t announced his love for you yet, so that’s probably the first thing on his to-do list. He knows he shouldn’t wait for life to take it’s course anymore and that he knows to be with you. Sooo, with pure fear, he pulls you aside and yells out that he loves you and starts to ramble that it’s ok if you don’t feel the same. You shut him up with a kiss and tell him you feel the same.

- After that, he has no real plans. It’s ironic seeing as he’s a strategist who has everything planned out, but he doesn’t have much in mind. Would he stay in Passione? Maybe, maybe not. Fugo has realised that he’s missed so many opportunities when it comes to his education and that he could be using his high IQ for something good, yet he knows no where could handle his anger issues quite like Bucciarati and the others could; aside from you.

- He’s young still, so marriage and a settled life style is too early however he still wants to be with you a lot more. As awkward as they may be at first, Fugo takes you on many dates and makes sure they all end with him shyly telling you that he loves you.

- If he keeps up working with the Passione, he continues to mentor Narancia for sure. Still just as aggressively if the poor boy gets anything wrong.

- Might try to practice using Purple Haze in a way that doesn’t affect the others around him. After all, if he can’t develop himself academically in a educational field, then he wants to grow in other ways. His anger issues and reluctance to use his stand? He wants them gone, or at least manageable to a satisfactory level. Fugo knows it won’t happen quickly or maybe at all, though that doesn’t stop his efforts.

Narancia Ghirga

- He’s going to go to school, baby !!

- And you’re coming with him, whether you were already in it or not. He’s going to become smarter and at least try to experience a portion of a normal growing up experience with your’s and Fugo’s support. Both you and the strawberry man will be begged for tutoring, to which there’s no hesitation for agreeing.

- Narancia is so happy that the whole mess is over and takes you into his arms, kissing you at least hundreds of times, telling you in-between each kiss that he loves you and that he can’t wait to go back to how things were. “I (mwah) love (mwah) you (mwah) so so so (mwah) much! We’re going to (mwah) kick back and relax (mwah) and watch all our favourite movies and (mwah) eat all our favourite foods!” “Narancia, stOoOoP!”

- You don’t have a choice in the matter when it comes to sticking by him. You both are going to live free and happy, with no cares aside from homework and upcoming tests. 

- He’ll probably stay in Passione but makes time for school. It’d be a waste to not use Lil’ Bomber/Aerosmith and he wants to stay close to his gang until forever.

- Celebratory torture dance anyone?

Guido Mista 

- Both he and his sex pistols are all over you once they realise that you’re all free from the gruelling mission. His hands are under your arms and he picks you up, swinging you around with so much cheer that hearing anything but his joyous yells of, “we did it!” is impossible. At the same time, his sex pistols are crawling up your arms and towards your face, hugging your neck and face with their own mini cheers of victory. Eventually, they each place an individual kiss on your cheek while Mista plants his own right onto your lips.

- He sticks with the Passione as Giorno’s right hand man, living in the joy of being a top dog and working alongside his friends. With all that they sacrificed, he’s enjoying everything that he does.

- Much like Fugo, he feels as though he’s still too young to marry or start a family immediately. Instead, he helps set you up with your own job and visits you every lunch break to spend time together. If you’re in the mafia, he begs Giorno to let you work alongside him, which was probably the new Don’s plan from the get-go, otherwise he visits wherever you work whenever he can. If he doesn’t have the time, he’ll text you with a cute image of him at work to which you reply with your own.

- Oh, even without starting the family, Mista’s mini stands definitely act like you’re their mother. Everytime they see you it’s constant cries for food and attention, and sometimes they can only be calmed down by your affection, not even Mista can make them work well without them at least seeing you recently. Suppose that’s all apart of a stand being the true nature of a person. 

- Mista likes to spend his new raise in pay on himself and you. More rented movies, more lavish items, tons of gifts and bouquets that you insist you don’t need! 

- You guys would probably move in together just because he likes coming home to you and telling you about his day, or seeing your smile after doing nothing but stand around next to Giorno. He’ll lie at first and say it’s for the sake of controlling his sex pistols because they can’t get enough of you. 

Giorno Giovanna 

- Aw yeah, who’s head bitch now? This guy.

- He works day and night to make sure his dream becomes a true reality, not letting the opportunity that his gang members and you have given him by risking your lives by even associating with him. 

- Giorno’s head is in the game and he hits the floor running as soon as he’s the new boss, not wasting any time in claiming land and setting people straight with his new rules. 

- This leaves you a little down in the dumps. After all that, and he still wants to work… It’s only right that you grab him by the face and tell him that he deserves at least some sort of a break, preferably with you.

- Realising that he really does, and so do you, he complies by having at least a week of resting, eating fine food and doing whatever you want as money was no longer an object to him.

- Mafia or not, you’re his right hand aside from Mista and the others. He’s had a bad day or really doesn’t know what to do with all the work he has? You swoop in and relax him, telling him that it’ll be ok and suggesting ways that he could deal with things. 

- Mista jokes by saying you’re like his secretary like in those cheesy romantic movies and you come in the next day in a formal, assistant like outfit and Giorno’s heart stops. All and every ‘appointment’ for that day is cancelled.

- “I’m so proud of you Giorno, you got what you wanted.” You tell him, brushing a hand through his hair. “The love of my life and a fulfilled dream? Definitely, amore.” 

Trish Una

- She’ll probably want to stick by the you and the Bucci Gang since you all supported her so much. Plus, she wants to improve on using her stand, especially if it’s for good.

- The two of you are glad to be together and spoil yourselves rotten with a shopping trip and a long spa day or two. You spend a lot of hours hugging and comforting her as she definitely breaks down in tears after all she’s been through has caught up. Even if she tries in front of the others, she can’t hide the stress that’s been hitting a rubbery wall and waiting to break through.

- If you cry too, she’ll laugh and say “look at us. Aren’t we just the perfect mess?”

- She isn’t really sure about how or where she wants to live though she wants to see you a lot, maybe not 24/7 just yet but at least close to where you live. If you do end up living together, she’ll enjoy it all the same but will make sure she works hard or longer outside of the home so coming back to see you is a breath of fresh air. 

- Trish would want to have a committed, set life after all the bumps she’s had before. She knows who she is now, so from here on she’s going to be finding new parts of herself. From finding new hobbies and interests to doing some exploring across Italy and maybe the world, she really wants to come to terms with herself. 

#trish and a few others are short bc im not quite sure yet how things are for them ! #trish una #trish x reader #guido mista #mista x reader #narancia ghirga #narancia x reader #panacotta fugo #fugo x reader #giorno x reader #giorno giovanna #leone abbacchio #abbachio x reader #bruno x reader #jjba x reader #jjba headcanon #request

[kriscme]

One Life to Live

Hi, sorry for the delay if you’re following this story on Tumblr.  The chapters that have been put on AO3 have at last caught up with the chapters here.  New chapters will go up weekly from hence on.   You might find it easier to read on AO3 though.  I’d link if I knew how.  I’m Kris22 over there. 

As always thanks to Ronja for allowing me to write fanfic of her Hunger Games fanfic “The Chance You Didn‘t Take” available on AO3 and FanFiction. Chapter 30 “Marcus presents well on TV, doesn’t he? You wouldn’t guess how much he hates it.”  My hand stills as I focus on the screen and Buttercup nudges his head beneath my palm in protest. I absently go back to scratching him behind the ears and his chest rumbles in contentment. “Yeah, well, you soon learn to fake it,” replies Johanna from the other end of the sofa.  “You should know that better than anyone.”   “Yeah,” I say.  Fake or not fake, real or not real, on television who can tell the difference? “That’s where Gale and I used to meet to go hunting,” I tell her.  Cressida had Marcus stand with his back to the valley, using the mountains in the distance as backdrop.  The sun was directly behind him and it shone through his golden-brown hair and set it aflame as if it were a halo.  Man-on-fire, I can almost hear Cinna say.  He’s the darling of the media now.  I don’t envy him.   I nervously wait for the moment Cressida interrupted the interview to ask me how I feel about a national park but it’s like it didn’t happen.  It’s been edited so seamlessly that no one would guess there’d been a break in the dialogue between Marcus and herself.  True to her word, there’s not even the slightest glimpse or mention of me anywhere. And nothing either in the separate feature she did on District 12 that had aired immediately before.  

I let out my breath in a long exhale and feel the tension ebb from my muscles.  I imagine Marcus in District 13 having the same reaction.   We felt sure that if there were any compromising footage it would come out either before the interview was broadcast or during.   And apart from that . . . um . . . incident in the woods, what else could they have on us?  Only that Marcus was a guest in my house but that was a very reasonable arrangement given the circumstances.  Otherwise, it was all very circumspect.  No public displays of affection, no chaining naked to trees, no fights with logging companies.   Only Johanna knew the extent of our relationship, and I doubt she’d have told anyone.  Peeta’s engagement to Lace would have made a juicy story, but thankfully he’s protected, having done nothing to attract publicity to himself – either through his own actions or through association with another.   “Looks like you’ve dodged a bullet,” says Johanna.  She reaches for the remote to switch off the television and then settles back onto the sofa.  A plate of Peeta-made cookies is on the coffee table delicately iced in Peeta’s signature style.  She takes one and scrapes off the icing with her teeth.   Johanna likes the icing best.  If you let her, you’d end up with a plate of cookies that look as if mice had been at them.   “It would seem so,” I reply.   I wish I could feel more certain, but if I’ve learned anything from my experiences is that life seldom is.  In fact, feeling safe almost guarantees that you’re not.   I forget to stroke Buttercup again, and tired of my erratic attention, he decides it’s time to move on.   He drops to the floor and ambles over to his favorite lounge chair, tail swishing. He leaves behind a layer of cat hair on my dark green trousers. “I told you nothing would happen,” says Johanna. “Wouldn’t want to ruin the fantasy they’d put so much effort into perpetuating, would they?  I stand naked against a tree for a good cause and the media goes berserk.  You get caught shagging against a tree with the current golden boy and then nothing.” “You know that’s not true,” I say, exasperated that she still thinks like this.  “Maybe at one time, when it would have made the Capitol look stupid if the truth came out, but not now.  They’ve had no compunction giving Marcus bad publicity in the past so I can’t see why it would be different just because I’m involved.  We were mistaken about what we heard that’s all, and then we let paranoia take over.”

I’d agonized over whether I should tell Marcus about Remus and the knowing look he gave me when I returned to camp.  In the end, I decided that he should have all the information just in case he needed to be prepared.  That was a mistake.   Between Cressida’s return to the Capitol the following day and Marcus’s for District 13 a week later, our waking hours were spent alternating between optimism that we had nothing to worry about and then dread that we had everything to worry about.   Marcus was petrified that another scandal would put his mission in jeopardy.  As there’s no official mandate from the central government to establish national parks, he depends on the goodwill and co-operation of individual districts and a negative association with me – any association with me, actually – could have that support withdrawn.  Especially in 13 where my name is anathema.  For me, it was the terror of a media onslaught, that what had happened before could happen again – my private life no longer private but entertainment to be analyzed and exploited.  That the careful re-building of my life as plain Katniss Everdeen would all come to naught. That it might impact on Peeta, who’s only just now finding himself after what Snow did to him. We had our first ever real argument.  I told him it was his fault for breaking his own rule and luring me into a clandestine meeting with him for sex.   And he said it was my fault for . . . he couldn’t quite articulate why it was my fault but it had something to do with being Katniss Everdeen.  It seems if I’d been a nobody we could have fucked in the main street (his words) and while it would likely have had us arrested in 12 it wouldn’t have merited even the smallest mention in the Capitol.  Because, you know, we’re just ignorant hayseeds and they are so much more sophisticated than we are and they have no morals (my words).  Oh, and he wasn’t exactly a nobody either.  In fact, that was the problem.   We did calm down and apologize to each other and had make-up sex, which was nice, but it wasn’t how I imagined we’d be spending our final days together – tense, fearful, with each blaming the other for our predicament.   It wasn’t until the night before he departed for 13 that we came to a mutual understanding. Neither of us were at fault.  We were victims of our celebrity – a celebrity that neither of us had sought.  Mine was thrust upon me, and his was a regrettable consequence of his life’s work. But I did tell him he was partly to blame.  If he had been fifty, pot-bellied and bald instead of young, handsome and with eyes the color of maple-syrup that could melt any women’s heart, he wouldn’t attract a fraction of the media attention that he does.  And then he told me that if I had been a scraggy, wrinkled old bat instead of young and nubile with eyes like silver moons and hair evocative of midnight, all the Games prowess in the world couldn’t have made me the cultural icon I’d become.  We were just too good looking for own good.   And then we laughed and had sex – playful, affectionate, I-want-to-remember-this-forever sex.  

But the worry was still there when we lay in each other’s arms that night, and the next morning when we said our goodbyes.  It was a bitter-sweet ending to what had been an unforgettable interlude but as I watched him pass through the Village gates for the last time, rucksack piled high, long legs in hiking boots striding purposely towards the next wilderness to be saved, I was struck by the rightness of it.  It was how it was always going to end; how it always should have ended.   Johanna tosses a denuded cookie back onto the plate and picks up a fresh one.  She ignores the pained look I send her way.  “Would you have gone with him?” she asks.  “If you could?” I brush cat hairs from my trousers to give me a few seconds to think about it.   I’d honestly never considered it since I can’t leave 12.    But there was a time when I could have happily left everything behind and followed him around the country, hiking mountain trails and making love at every opportunity.   It was at the concrete house by the lake, the morning after we’d made love for the first time and there weren’t enough superlatives in the world to describe how wonderful I thought he was, although now I find it hard to determine exactly what I did feel for him.  

“No,” I say eventually.  “Even if didn’t mean being in the public eye again, I still wouldn’t.  We don’t want the same things.”  I hesitate, wondering if I should say anything, but then blurt it out. “I don’t think I’m normal.” I brace for the sarcastic response I’m sure to get, but to my relief it doesn’t come.  “None of us are,” she says grimly.  “You don’t go through what we have and come out normal at the end of it.”  She’s silent for a moment, but then rouses herself. “But if you want me to comment further, you’ll have to be more specific,” she adds.   I sigh.  I don’t know to explain it to myself, let alone to someone else.  “Well, it’s about how I felt about Marcus.   I mean, it wasn’t that long ago when I would have done almost anything for him.  He made me feel so . . . so . . . “ “Turned on?” she smirks.   I feel my face grow hot.  I should have known the real Johanna couldn’t be too far from the surface.   “Yes, but more than that.  Wanted.  Desirable. And we had so much in common too. But when he left, I didn’t feel much of anything.  I should have been devastated, shouldn’t I?” “Rebound.”

“What?” “It was a rebound.  It’s when you haven’t got over one relationship and you dive straight into another.  Marcus gave you the validation that Peeta didn’t.  It’s not so complicated.  Pretty simple, in fact.  Happens all the time.” “It does?” “Yep.  It goes like this.  You feel like shit because you’re still hung-up on your ex so you’re looking for a distraction – something or someone to make you feel better.  So along comes Marcus who is clearly attracted and you transfer the feelings you don’t think Peeta wants on to him.  Only it doesn’t last because it’s not based on anything real.” But some things were real.   I really did like him, felt a connection with him, even.  And I liked the sex, but maybe that’s just a physical thing.  I haven’t been with enough men to know if it’s different when it’s with someone you truly love.    “A rebound is bad then?” I ask. “Depends,” she says.  She takes another cookie from the plate.   “Has it made you feel better or worse?  And then there’s the person on the other end of it.  It’s generally considered not fair to them.  But, if you had to pick the ideal man to have a rebound with, you couldn’t have done better than Marcus.  I told you at the beginning– one track mind.  Nothing competes with saving the forests for him.” Gale.  He was like that.  The cause is more important than any relationship.  As soon as Gale heard about the uprisings in the Districts, he no longer wanted to escape with me into the woods when just minutes before, he’d been so keen.  But Peeta, he would have gone with me, even though he knew it was a bad idea.   “He told me he doesn’t keep girlfriends for very long.  I guess that’s why,” I say.   He’d also have figured out what a liability I’d be to him.  And I certainly wouldn’t want the kind of life a relationship with him would entail.    That final week had been an eyeopener for us both.  But at least it ended well, all things considered. I put out my hand for a cookie but change my mind when I can’t find one that hasn’t had the icing scraped off.  

“You’re disgusting,” I tell her.  But I can’t keep from laughing.  It’s part amusement, part relief.  No repercussions from that lapse of judgement in the woods and an explanation that makes sense to me about my feelings for Marcus.  I feel a sudden rush of affection for the woman who’s helped me through this – and more besides.  Once I compared her to an older sister who really hates you.   I guess I have to revise it to an older sister who sometimes seems to hate you but really doesn’t, and you can always depend on to have your back.   “I’m going to miss you,” I say. “Yeah, I know,” Johanna replies casually as if she were picking lint off a sweater.  “But my reason for coming here in the first place was to help Marcus out and he’s gone.   Peeta doesn’t need me anymore either.  So even if I hadn’t been asked to, it still would have been time for me to go home.”   “You’re going to be great mayor.” “Thanks, but I’m not mayor quite yet.   I have to be elected first.  It’s the way it’s done now.”  Before the war, District mayors were appointed by the Capitol but now all governing roles are decided by vote.  It’s the republic Plutarch had talked about, just like in the history books. The people elect their own representatives.   “You’ll get it,” I say confidently.  “They love you in 7.  They wouldn’t have asked you to run, otherwise.”  Who’d have guessed that Johanna would be destined to be Mayor of District 7, but when you think about it, it’s the perfect fit.  She’ll bring passion, commitment and integrity to the role.  And essential for a career in politics, a thick skin.   “So, have you thought about what you’d like to do on your last night here and to celebrate your candidacy?” I ask. “How about drinks first at the pub and then dinner at that restaurant you like or maybe see a movie.  Or we could do all three.  Anything you like. “ “Anything I like?” she asks ominously. Images of pub crawls, strippers and naked sprints through the streets flash through my mind.  “What I’d like is dinner with just the four of us. You, me, Peeta and Haymitch.” I groan.  This is far, far worse.  “You more than anyone know the circumstances – “ “I don’t care,” she says flatly.  “Ever since I got here, I’ve been stuck between the two of you.   Haymitch has too.  Why don’t you think of other people for a change and how it affects them?  You and Peeta are Haymitch’s family!  What do you think it’s been like for him?” “He hasn’t said anything,” I say, on the defensive.  “How can I know if – “

“It should be fucking obvious!  How brainless can you get?”  She gives me a look filled with contempt.  I guess she’s back to being the older sister who hates you.   I hadn’t considered it from Haymitch’s perspective.  He’d have missed the dinners, I suppose, but it’s not as if they could continue forever. They were only intended to help us establish a routine.  And besides, it was Peeta who showed the first signs of breaking from them.   “It’s not like I started it.”  As I say it, I realize how false that is.  I was the one who put a complete stop to the dinners and made things awkward between Peeta and me.  All because I couldn’t handle him being with Lace.   “I don’t care who started it,” she says, but less angrily than before.  “It’s time for it to stop.  Is this how you’re going to live the rest of your lives?  Forever trying to avoid being in the same place at the same time?  You’re neighbors, for fuck’s sake.  You’ve been in two Games and a war together.  You don’t throw away a bond like that because he fucked another woman when his brain was mush.  And now that you’ve fucked another man, you’re even.  There’s nothing standing in your way now.  So, what’s stopping you?  It can’t be Lace.  She’s gone.” Gone, but not forgotten.  Not by me, and not by Peeta either.  But Johanna does have a point.  If Haymitch is a kind of father figure to us both, then that makes us his children.  And having two children who don’t get along and won’t join in any family activities if the other is there too, can’t have been easy.  For my own part, it has been a strain avoiding Peeta when we live so close, work similar hours, and have Haymitch in common.  But it hasn’t been just me.  Peeta stopped seeking me out like he used to when he found out that I’m in love him.  Nothing about our situation has changed, Lace or no Lace.   He stays away from me because he knows that I’m in love him and he feels bad that he can’t love me back.  And I stay away from him because I know that he knows, and feel humiliated that he does.  But if . . . “You’re right,” I say.   “It is ridiculous.  You make the arrangements and I’ll be there.” “And now that Marcus is out of the picture – “        

She stops suddenly, confused.  “You will?” “Yes.  In fact, I can hardly wait.  It’ll be fun.”  I rise from the sofa to gather the cups and the plate of ruined cookies to signal that the visit is over.   Johanna looks stunned as if she can’t believe how easy that victory was.   She was probably all primed to go into battle and then it failed to materialize.  How disappointing that must be.    

“Oh, Johanna!” I call out cheerily just as she’s about to walk out the door.  I’ve just remembered something Haymitch told me.  “Maybe we should let Peeta do the cooking.   He likes to do it.  He’d always take over when we had our dinners.”  If I have to do this thing, I at least want the food to be good.   “Sure,” she says, still dazed.   And then she’s gone.  I wonder if Peeta has already agreed to it, or that she still has the job of guilting him into it too.   I decide that it doesn’t matter either way.  Peeta will be motivated by the same reasoning as me.  The present situation can’t continue.   It’s funny, in the way that’s weird rather than amusing, that mine and Peeta’s situation is now reversed.  In the days following the Games and before we embarked on the Victory Tour, he avoided me for pretty much the same reasons I avoid him now.  And, in turn, I avoided him for the same reason he avoids me.  It’s the discomfort of being around someone whose feelings you don’t return.   But there’s one crucial difference. Peeta had hope.  I know that now from what Haymitch told Peeta before the prep teams arrived.  He could afford to wear his heart on his sleeve knowing that there was a good chance that if I was given the space I needed, it was only a matter of time before I felt the same way.  I have no hope.  Therefore, my strategy will have to be different.  This is about survival, not about capturing Peeta’s heart.  

Peeta will have to believe that whatever I felt for him, I no longer do.  That’s the only way we can be at ease with each other.   I may never stop loving him, but I know how to bury my feelings so that they don’t show.  I’ve had plenty of practice at it.  After my father died.  When I was reaped.  When he started going out with Lace.   I can do this.  I can put on a show.  I don’t even have to be good at it.  In the Games, Peeta was convinced I was in love him because he wanted to believe it.  So now I do the opposite and he’ll believe because he wants to believe.  And if he can’t do that, he’ll pretend.  We’re both very good at pretending.   Chapter 31 Venia purses her lips at the state of my nails. “There’s not much I can do with these apart from a polish.  If you want artificial nails, you’ll have to come back when Octavia’s here.” “It doesn’t matter,” I say.  “I mostly just wanted my hair trimmed.”  The shape Flavius had cut into my hair has nearly all grown out.   Working at the school during the week, and out in the woods with Marcus on the weekends hadn’t left much time for trips to the beauty salon.   I ask, “Where’s Octavia?  Not sick, I hope.”  

It’s unusual not to see Octavia at her station, her auburn head bent over her task.  Since Venia re-united with her coworkers, each has settled into their former specialties as beauty therapists.   Flavius is hair and makeup.   Octavia is the nail expert.  And Venia is skin treatments and waxing.   “She left work early,” smirks Flavius.  “She has a date.”   Venia collects a few tools from the nail station and returns to my side.  While Flavius cuts, Venia smooths and buffs.  It reminds me of my days as a tribute when all three of them would be working on various body parts at the same time. “We weren’t busy, anyway,” says Venia. “You’re the last customer for the day.” I know.  That’s the reason I chose to come at this time.  I didn’t want to take the chance of running into Lace when she’s having her roots done.   “Anyone I know?” I ask. “Possibly,” replies Venia.  “He’s from 12.  Thom something.  Bick? Hick?” “Hickory?” “That’s it.  Hickory.  Octavia’s had crushes before but she’s got it really bad this time.  I caught her looking through wedding catalogues.”  Venia pauses mid-buff.  “I’m worried for her.” “How come?” Thom is a nice guy.  He was a friend of Gale’s who helped with the clean-up of 12 and gave me a ride home in his cart when I was too weak to walk home. That was the day Peeta came back. “Because of . . . you know, of what we did before the war.”  I don’t miss Venia’s use of “we”.  If Octavia is accused of being a facilitator of the Games, they all are.

“But doesn’t Thom already know?  He was in 13 at the same time as you.”  All the survivors from District 12 actually.   But Venia shakes her head.  “Octavia didn’t know Thom then.  We didn’t mix very much with the people there.  We thought it safer to keep to ourselves. Especially after the bread.”   I suppose being shackled to a wall and beaten for simply taking an extra portion of bread wouldn’t exactly endear the populace to you.  

I try to reassure them.  “You do know that I’d vouch for you if it ever came out?  And tell them how you helped prepare me for the rebellion propos and Snow’s execution?” “I know you would.  And maybe we’re worrying over nothing.  But we risked a lot coming here and 12’s our home now. Flavius has met someone too – he’s from the Capitol, so that’s not a concern but if we had to leave . . .   And Lucia is settled in school and has made friends and Cicero has a good job at the medicine factory . . .” And so Venia goes on.  Flavius chimes in too.  He tells me they’re set to take on two apprentices and once the tailor has moved out, they want to expand the salon –

“What?  Arthur’s leaving?”  This is the first I’ve heard of it.  But maybe that’s not so surprising.  I haven’t seen much of Arthur lately.   It’s been only been Max, Johanna and me at pub nights.  Arthur is obviously spending his Saturday nights elsewhere.   “Oh, he’s not going far,” says Venia. “Just to another store on the main street.  He says it’s better situated for passing trade and with the dressmaking shop next door it will likely bring more business to them both.” “I don’t think more business is the only thing those two want from each other,” says Flavius with a suggestive wink.   “Flavius!” chides Venia, but she can’t conceal a smile.  “It’s true, though.  We misplaced the stone we use for sharpening scissors and Octavia went to ask Arthur if we could borrow his.  But no one was there even though the door was open.  So, she went through to the back, thinking that’s where he’d be, and she caught them red-handed, kissing, and his hand was up her skirt.  Octavia forgot all about the stone.”   The two of them collapse into giggles.  “We didn’t think he had it in him,” says Venia, when she’s able to speak.   Neither did I.  I can’t laugh about it though.  Peeta will be devastated when he hears that Lace has moved on.   And so soon after their break-up too.   But as badly as I feel for Peeta, I also can’t help feeling happy for Arthur.  If there was ever a man who deserves reward for long devotion, it’s him.  I only hope that Lace proves worthy of it. One thing I do know is that Peeta isn’t going to hear of it from me.  I’m done being involved in his love life.  It’s brought me nothing but trouble ever since he made that confession to Caesar Flickerman years before.  My only objective is to get over him if I can and make sure that he thinks I have. And that makes this dinner tonight so important.  It will set the stage for our relationship going forward.   We’ll be friends.  Not necessarily close friends.  But at least friends who can enjoy social occasions together and feel comfortable in each other’s company.   Johanna wants us to dress up so I guess that means I’ll have to wear a cocktail dress.   I have one already in my closet.  It’s the emerald green dress I wore to the party in 8.  But it’s long sleeved and in a heavy fabric and that makes it too hot for this time of the year.  I’ll have to go down to the basement where most of the Cinna clothes are stored.  There’s a whole rack of cocktail dresses to choose from. But what do you wear when you want to show that you’ve made an effort, but don’t want to appear as if you’ve set out attract anyone in particular – and by anyone, I mean Peeta.  

I begin by eliminating colours that are evocative of sunsets or flames.  That takes care of anything orange, red or yellow.  And then anything that Lace might choose.  If Lace is Peeta’s idea of feminine allure then I should make sure to do the opposite.  Therefore, no pastels, ruffles and especially any kind of lace.  No.  No. No, I think as I reject one dress after another.  And then I find it.  The perfect dress.  And so different from the girlish or jeweled frocks that Cinna usually dressed me in that it’s almost as if he knew that one day, I might have a need for a dress such as this.  It’s in unrelieved black.   Simple and unadorned in slinky silk jersey.   I really like it, but Peeta, who loves colour, probably won’t and it’s sure to send a message that I didn’t dress to please him.   I accessorize it with black high-heeled sandals and silver and jet earrings.  The dress comes to just above the knee with a deep halter neck.  It’s impossible to wear a bra without it showing, so I leave it off.  I turn around to check how it looks in the mirror from the rear.  The clinging fabric does set off my best asset, but since it’s a dinner and I’ll be sitting on it, no one will see it.  The burn scars, although much improved from the skin treatments, are still noticeable on my back.  I decide to draw attention to it by putting my hair up in a kind of messy bun.  This will contrast with Lace’s unblemished skin and immaculate hair and will surely show Peeta that I don’t care at all about being attractive to him.   I arrive at Peeta’s door at the same time as Haymitch.  He’s wearing a dinner suit, but his white shirt has already untucked from the waistband and his tie isn’t around his neck but dangling from his breast pocket.  His eyebrows rise as he takes in my appearance and his lips curve in a sardonic smile.  If I needed any confirmation of how incongruous I look in this get-up, I just got it.   Johanna answers the door, elegant in a wine-red fitted dress with matching shoes.  She appears to have paid a visit to the salon too, because her hair is now a uniform color and has been restyled to lie flat against her skull and frame her face instead of the usual red-tipped spikes sticking up all over her head.   “I like your new look,” I tell her.   “Yeah, it’s more conservative than I usually go for but I figure I have to start looking the part of mayor sooner or later.  But what about you?  What have you done with Katniss Everdeen?” I smile and shrug.  I’m unsure if not looking like myself is a compliment or not. Peeta stops short when he sees me, his mouth gaping, but he collects himself quickly.  “You look beautiful,” he says.  

“Thanks,” I murmur.  He sounds sincere but I know how easily Peeta can fake it.  “You look good too.”  And he does, in a cream suit designed by Portia.   We move into the dining room.  Johanna’s gone to a lot of trouble.  I can almost imagine we’re at one of those fancy restaurants in the Capitol.  Fresh flowers, dim lighting, the furniture polished to a high sheen. The table is resplendently laid out with the finest dinnerware and gold cutlery.  These came with the house.  I have them too but I’ve yet to use them.   I wonder if Peeta recognizes the pattern on the plates as the same as those that accompanied our feast in the cave.  Johanna and Haymitch take seats at opposite ends of the table. That leaves Peeta and me to sit across from each other.  

White wine is poured into cut-crystal glasses and starched linen napkins are laid across laps.  I wait for either Johanna or Peeta to start bringing in the food but they stay seated.  How are we to eat if the food never leaves the kitchen?  I eye the woven gold basket filled with soft rolls in the center of the table.  Is that all we get?  Just then, Cass enters the room carrying a large silver tray.   “Good evening,” he says, as places a bowl of soup in front of each of us.  “I hope you brought your appetites with you.  Don’t forget to save room for dessert.”   And then he’s gone.  Presumably back to the kitchen. “What was that?” I say to no one in particular. “Cass is doing all the cooking tonight. He’s a qualified chef.  He can cook all sorts of things - not just pastries and desserts,” says Johanna. “Yes, I know that.  But what’s he doing here?” Peeta answers.  “Johanna thought it would be nice to have a professional do the cooking so we could relax and enjoy ourselves.” Right.  I just wish Johanna’s idea of relaxation was drinks at the pub, or a barbeque in the backyard.  Any place where I didn’t risk locking eyes with Peeta at any minute.  We can scarcely look at each other. Every time his eyes chance to meet mine, they flit away.  It’s like being back at school.  We’re doing a very poor job of acting at ease with each other so far. I’m a lousy actress at the best of times but I expected better of Peeta. Clearly the knowledge that I’m in love with him freaks him out to the extent that he’s forgotten all his acting skills. The food is a welcome diversion and I tuck in. The soup is creamy pumpkin sprinkled with slivered nuts and little black seeds.  Sublime.  I recognize it as one of the soups at the Capitol feast.  It’s followed by those delicious little roasted birds filled with orange sauce. Then fish swimming in a green sauce flecked with herbs.  And then, oh, I don’t believe it!   Lamb stew with dried plums!  On a bed of wild rice!

That makes me think of our feast in the cave, of course. It’s even served on the same patterned plates.  My eyes instinctively search out Peeta’s.  Do you remember it?  You must, surely.  How excited we were when that parachute arrived.  How careful we were to eat only small portions so we wouldn’t be sick after so many days of hunger.  And then how we whiled away the time until we could eat again – snuggled together in the sleeping bag, my head on your shoulder, your arms wrapped around me, imagining our life together if we survived the Games.  You, me and Haymitch, you said.  Picnics, birthdays, long winter nights around the fire retelling old Hunger Games tales.  You must remember it!

But Peeta doesn’t look my way.  His gaze flickers between Johanna and Haymitch without it ever landing on me even though we’re sitting directly across from each other.  And he laughs just a little too loudly at Johanna’s poor taste joke about prunes and how we’ll all shit well tomorrow.    He remembers our feast in the cave, all right!  I’m certain of it.  He just doesn’t want me to know that he does. To spare me the humiliation, probably.  I want to kick myself.  Gawping at him like a love-sick idiot – practically begging him to remember one of our most intimate moments together.  At least Peeta has his wits about him, not letting on that the stew holds any particular significance.  

I quietly return to my stew.  It’s not as good as I remember it and I can only manage a few mouthfuls.  Saving room for dessert, I tell Johanna, when she comments.  Unfortunately, there’s a long break between this course and the next.   I suppose Cass wants our stomachs to have a rest before he brings out the dessert which is sure to be spectacular.  But it makes the pressure to appear congenial and unaffected by Peeta’s presence that much harder when I don’t have the food to distract me.

Since I got here, Peeta hadn’t spoken a great deal, and me even less.  The conversation has been carried mostly by Johanna and Haymitch.  She’s been picking his brain about the challenges of town planning and the provision of services such as garbage collection and road maintenance.  Johanna had better get this job for mayor.  She already acts as if it’s hers. That’s why it’s a surprise when the focus of attention turns to me.  I’d been occupied twisting my crystal glass around by the stem watching the colours change across its facets.  Anything to keep my mind off the person sitting opposite me.     “You’ll step in, won’t you, Katniss?” Johanna asks.   My head jerks up.   “Hmm?  What – “ “She doesn’t have to,” says Peeta quickly. “Step in for what?” I ask, directing my question to Johanna.   “To watch the tapes with Peeta.” says Johanna. Before I can respond Peeta interjects again. “There’s no need to bother Katniss.  I’ll be fine with Haymitch.”     “You won’t,” says Haymitch.  “The tapes labeled ‘to be watched with Katniss’ are all that’s left.  It’s probably why the content has become repetitive lately.   Aurelius has obviously run out of material I can help you with.” “You need to watch all the tapes,” Johanna adds.  “You don’t know what memories are missing until you do.” “Katniss has already done her share.  I’ll be fine watching on my own,” says Peeta.   Johanna shakes her head.  “You know that’s not how it works.  You need someone to put it into context.  Besides, the tapes were her idea to begin with. She should see it through.”   Peeta turns to me for the first time.   “There’s really no need.”   He’s almost pleading with me. I really want to accept his offer to not watch the tapes with him.  I know he’s giving me an escape but if I go along with it, it gives the impression that I’m afraid and that’s not good either.  It has to appear as if I have nothing to hide.  Which I don’t.  Except the part that I’m still in love with him, of course.   I can see where he’s coming from.  After my slip-up with the stew, he’s worried that if I’m compelled to watch the tapes with him, I’m sure to give myself away.  He’s protecting me from myself.   I look coolly into the blue eyes of the person who is now my greatest opponent and I promise myself I will defeat his plan. Johanna is right.  I should finish what I started.  Remember that my primary objective was for Peeta to find himself. And if those tapes hold the final pieces, then I’m determined that he shall have them.  I will watch those tapes, no matter how bad they are, and he will never guess from my reaction that I still carry a torch for him.  It’s the only way we’ll ever be able to act normally around each other.   “I’m happy to help,” I say.  “Same time and place?” All eyes are on him.  He’s trapped and he knows it.   Peeta’s nod is almost imperceptible.   What a timely moment for Cass to bring out the dessert.  It’s a tower of pastries filled with different flavored custards, welded together with chocolate and studded with raspberries and sugared violets surrounded by an immense web of delicate spun sugar.  There’s enough for at least a dozen or more people.  But the best thing about it is that its position in the center of the table effectively blocks out my view of Peeta.   So, Dr Aurelius has sent tapes that he wants Peeta to specifically watch with me.  I wonder if I was ever going to be told about them.   Probably not if it had been left up to Peeta.  He’s obviously anxious about what’s on them.   That makes me think that he has most, if not all, of his memories back.  Enough, at least, to guess at how I feel about him.  It seems that the tapes have progressed from those which showed me either indifferent or acting a part to when I began to return his feelings.  And the irony is that it’s made not a scrap of difference. I’m glad now that Dr Aurelius sent the compromising tapes first.  I had never stood a chance with him, even without Lace.  

Cass comes out to clear away the dessert plates and the remains of that pastry thing.  He frowns at how little impact we made on it.  But it really was huge.  To make him feel better, I ask if he can wrap it up for me to share around the staff room tomorrow.  Max will probably make some joke about chocolate covered balls and phallic symbols. We finish with tea for Peeta and me and coffee for Johanna and Haymitch.  Haymitch takes from his pocket a silver flask and pours a generous slug of whatever’s in it into his cup.  

The dinner finally comes to an end.  I pull Johanna aside before I go, ostensibly to say goodbye to her.  I won’t see her tomorrow.  The train for 7 leaves very early and Peeta has offered to walk her to the train station.

“The whole night was a setup, wasn’t it? To get me to watch the tapes with Peeta again?”

She doesn’t bother denying it. “Yep.  Someone had to give the two of you a nudge in the right direction.” She gives me one of her stern big sister looks.  “Don’t waste it.”

“I won’t,” I say.   She doesn’t have to know that I have something completely different in mind to her.    

I hug her goodbye and wish her luck.  I don’t know when we’ll meet again.  Not with me stuck in 12 and Johanna busy being mayor but maybe she’ll find time in her schedule to visit at some point.  

“Don’t be a stranger,” she calls out as I leave.  Where have I heard that expression before?  Ah yes, Plutarch.  They were the last words he spoke to me before he left the hovercraft that brought me back to 12.   Thankfully, even after that scare with Marcus, that’s exactly how it’s stayed.  

“Never,” I call back.   No one could ever be the little sister that Prim was.  But maybe I’ve gained a pretty good substitute for an older one.  

[lady-divine-writes]

Alas, Poor Yorick! This Is Gonna Suck! (Rated T)

Summary: It's been two years since the Apoca-didn't and Aziraphale and Crowley still aren't a couple - much to Crowley's dismay. Aziraphale has his reasons, but Crowley doesn't feel those apply to them. But if Aziraphale won't listen to him on the subject, maybe he'll listen to their good friend Shakespeare.

-or-

Crowley professes his love for Aziraphale through virtue of a single, passionate kiss and traumatizes a room full of pre-teens in the process. (2932 words)

Notes: Written for the tumblr inbox ask prompt - 'Crowley and Aziraphale perform/inspire Shakespeare'

(AO3)

“Are we really going to do this?” Crowley groans, re-reading the flier Aziraphale had printed for his recent venture, one that he’s managed to strong-arm Crowley into participating in against his will and better judgement.

“Of course we are!” Aziraphale lightly punches Crowley on the shoulder in a gesture that makes the demon lean away suspiciously. “Buck up! It’s going to be fun!”

“Your definition of fun and my definition of fun seem to vary greatly, angel.”

“Look …” Aziraphale rounds up old rags and a bottle of wood polish and begins tidying up a space he has affectionately begun to refer to as his Globe Theater West “… we made a pledge ...”

“You. You made a pledge.”

“... to help support youth theater in Soho. And putting on a performance of Shakespeare is the easiest way to start.”

“You could have donated the play books. That would have been easier.”

Aziraphale peeks up from the bookshelf he’s polishing and glares at the demon reclining a short distance away. “Bite. your. tongue. Besides, whether you realize it or not, we’ve been presented with a golden opportunity.”

“And what’s that?”

“It seems an inordinate amount of young men signed up for my workshop as opposed to young women, so this gives us the perfect excuse to perform Shakespeare’s works the way they were done from the beginning.”

“In a large, open-air theater that smells like horse shit, where a handful of audience members die before the end of the second act?”

“No, where men play most of the roles, including the ladies’ parts.”

“That’s going to go over well.” Crowley chuckles. “Did you set aside enough money to pay for therapy and legal fees? ‘cause you might just need it.”

“Nonsense. And to kick things off, you and I are going to show them how easy it will be.”

Crowley arches a brow. “Is that so?”

“Yes.”

“And what, pray tell, have you chosen for us to perform?”

“Romeo and Juliet,” Aziraphale answers with a wistful sigh.

Crowley lowers his glasses, fixing Aziraphale with a cold, yellow stare. “It better be the scene where they both die.”

“Don’t be ridiculous! We’re going to do an uplifting scene. One that everyone knows and loves. One of the most popular scenes in the play.”

“Them dying is pretty damned popular. Especially among thirteen-year-olds.”

“Yes, but anyone can die.”

Crowley sighs. Without being told, he knows exactly what scene Aziraphale is referring to, and try as he might, there’s no way he’s going to win this argument. If he leaves now, that doesn’t mean he’s getting out of this. Aziraphale can miracle anywhere Crowley ends up with a snap of his fingers.

Or he could bless the front doors so he can’t leave.

He’s not opposed to performing Romeo and Juliet. He’s performed plenty of Shakespeare in his time. But with regard to this scene in particular, there does happen to be one tiny catch.

He stands from his seat and walks over to the bookcase Aziraphale has scrubbed nearly spotless. “I’ve never kissed you before, angel.”

“Neither have I,” Aziraphale replies without looking up. “Kissed you, I mean. But we’ll be actors plying a craft. I’m sure we can do it for the sake of the performance.”

“Is that really how you want your first kiss?”

“I …” Aziraphale stops what he’s doing, kneels up and rests his hands on his thighs “… how do you know it would be my first?”

Crowley shrugs. “Lucky guess.”

“It’s just a kiss.” Aziraphale goes back to his polishing. “Part of the scene. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“Oh, it doesn’t have to mean anything,” Crowley snaps sarcastically. “All right then. It won’t mean anything.”

“You don’t have to take a tone with me.”

“Tone? Tone? What tone? There’s no tone. I don’t have a tone.”

But there was a tone, and Crowley couldn’t help having it.

He’d thought that after the Apoca-didn’t, things would change between them. That they’d be together. But every time he brought it up, Aziraphale changed the subject. Eventually the subject simply drifted away. But it’s not that Aziraphale ignored it. He admitted that he was afraid of things changing between them if they took any further steps, but he didn’t exactly specify which changes in particular frightened him. So in order not to lose Crowley altogether, he chose ‘standing still’ to ‘moving forward’.

Crowley understood that sort of, but it still bruised his ego.

More than that - it hurt his feelings.

What Aziraphale said made sense … for humans. But they weren’t humans. And they weren’t invincible. Even though they’d managed to get Heaven and Hell off their backs, that didn’t mean there weren’t targets painted on them.

Immortal they may be, but eternity isn’t assured for anyone.

Crowley could ask poor Ligur about that one.

Or, more to the point, he can’t.

It’s been nearly two years and Crowley still looks over his shoulder from time to time.

In Crowley’s opinion, if there’s something they want to say or do, they should consider doing it now.

“I’m just sayin’, if that’s how you feel about it ...”

“Yes,” Aziraphale says softly, speaking to his own reflection in the gleaming wood. “That’s how I feel about it.”

“End of discussion, I take it?”

“End of discussion.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic, that is.”

“Dearest …” Aziraphale peeks over the side of the bookcase at the persnickety demon pacing between the stacks “… can we please try and make this a pleasant afternoon for the children? No need to get them caught up in our personal melodrama when there’s so much of Shakespeare’s to be explored.”

“Absolutely. No problem at all. Completely pleasant, me. I swear. There’s no alcohol in that scene, if I remember correctly,” Crowley jokes, attempting, in some small measure, to diffuse the tension he helped create.

Aziraphale rewards his efforts with an understanding smile. “None at all.”

“Well ...” Crowley drops down on the sofa and starts pouring himself a drink anyway – the first of many. “This is going to be a long afternoon.”

***

“All right, ladies and gentlemen!” Aziraphale addresses the nine boys and three girls on the roster with a giddy clap. “Welcome, welcome, welcome to our first ever youth theater workshop! I’m so so glad you all could make it! Thank you for your interest!”

“We’re here cuz Adam signed us up,” Wensleydale rats out his friend.

“Not me,” Warlock says. “I don’t bend to the will of my peers.”

“Then why are you here?” Brian asks, not at all impressed with Adam’s recent addition to their group - the dark-haired, occasionally foul-mouthed miscreant with moony eyes for Adam.

Warlock’s gaze falls to his boot as he worries a spot on the floor with his toe. “Nanny made me come.”

Adam elbows Warlock in the side.

Warlock smirks.

Brian rolls his eyes.

“Okay then. I’ve printed up the scene we’ll be performing so you can follow along.” Aziraphale passes around handouts while Crowley lurks in the corner, as helpful as a bronze statue. “Brian and Adam, you both said you were interested in playing Romeo …”

“Yup,” Adam replies.

“I … I was.” Brian glances nervously around at the other boys in the room and the three girls, one of them his best friend Pepper. “Now I’m not so sure …”

“Great!” Aziraphale rallies on, ignoring Brian’s anxiety. “We’ll sort out Juliet later.” He winks at the young ladies. “No need to assume.”

“Why can’t we start with one of the fighting scenes?” Pepper asks.

“Yeah, why can’t we start with one of the fighting scenes?” Crowley groans.

“Because fighting is easy. There’s a lot of fighting in Romeo and Julie, don’t you worry. But the meat of this play is the love story. Two households, both alike in dignity, and yet …”

“… they couldn’t get their act together for the sake of their kids,” Pepper finishes.

“Exactly,” Aziraphale says proudly. “But the love Romeo and Juliet shared, their connection to one another …”

“… was probably hormonal,” Crowley finishes.

“Crowley!”

“It was! They knew one another for what? All of four days? And in that time, six people died! Their adolescent urges weren’t just insatiable! They had a body count!”

“That definitely sucks all the romance out of it, doesn’t it?” one of the non-Pepper girls says.

“Just giving you the facts, miss,” Crowley says. “To be honest, those statistics are pretty light considering an average weekend in Verona during the Renaissance ...”

“I think that’s a discussion best left for another time,” Aziraphale says, reigning the class back in. He grabs a chair, sets it in the center of the space in front of the twelve children, and sits down in it. “Why don’t we get a move on so we can start assigning the rest of the roles? Hmm?”

“Yay,” Crowley cheers dismally, dragging over a second chair, scraping two of its feet loudly along the surface of the wood floor. He flips it around and straddles it facing Aziraphale because sitting in a chair the way it’s meant would be too easy.

Aziraphale leans towards the sullen demon. “Now please, try and do your best,” he says in a low voice. “We don’t have to be the greatest Shakespearean actors that ever lived, but we should give it a decent go.”

“Sure. Anything you say,” Crowley agrees, unenthused as he may be.

“You start. Whenever you’re ready.”

Crowley looks at his script, a single cursory glance to make sure he remembers the scene correctly. He may prefer Shakespeare’s comedies, but he’s seen Romeo and Juliet a number of times, if only for the extreme absurdity of it.

Though, admittedly, several of those times have been because of Aziraphale.

Aziraphale positively adores Romeo and Juliet. Absurd or not, it’s one of Aziraphale’s all-time favorites, and in a rare moment of sentimentality, Crowley decides to do his best not to ruin that.

It’s not until he’s prepared to start that Crowley sees an opportunity.

Aziraphale hasn’t been listening to him, not where it pertains to the two of them. Of course, Crowley has never exactly been good with words. He’s more of a show, don’t tell sort of demon. And he has to give himself credit for the fact that he’s been showing Aziraphale for thousands of years how he feels about him.

But maybe this time around, good old Willy could lend him a hand.

Crowley had originally planned on being detached for this scene – good enough for youth theater, but not necessarily award worthy. Instead, he puts down his script, takes Aziraphale’s hand, and gets ready to knock the angel out of his socks.

Besides, if that kiss at the end isn’t going to mean anything, there’s no reason for him not to put his all into it.

Aziraphale sees Crowley take his hand and his eyes go wide. He hadn’t expected this. He’d been prepared for the bare minimum, if not less. Maybe it’s written in the script, he thinks, looking at the page he printed, searching for any hint of stage direction (of which there is none). This scene is often performed with the actors holding hands. Crowley would know that, but Aziraphale didn’t think he would do it. He looks from their hands up to Crowley’s eyes, and that seems to be Crowley’s cue to speak.

“If I profane with my unworthiest hand,” he begins with an air of soft intimacy, but enunciating so the kids gathered can hear, “This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this:

My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand

To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.”

Aziraphale sits up straighter and clears his throat, mildly uncomfortable by the amount of emotion Crowley was able to invest into those few lines. He, too, sets his script aside, pale blue eyes staring deeply into Crowley’s and not looking away, almost as if the demon had presented him a challenge.

“Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,

Which mannerly devotion shows in this;

For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch,

And palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.”

Aziraphale doesn’t play it campy. He opted for a pared down, actors’ studio inspired version of this scene – no floofy costumes, no backdrops, no props, no music. Just two performers and Shakespeare’s words to set the scene. And he didn’t change his voice, try to make it high-pitched so the kids would know he was playing a girl. The gender of the characters doesn’t matter. The words, the emotions, the conflicts – those are the things that matter in this scene. Aziraphale chose to perform the role of Juliet as another aspect of himself, in love with someone he isn’t supposed to love. Someone he’s terrified of losing.

Whom he fell in love with all the same.

But unlike Juliet, he’d rather that love go cold than see the object of his affections perish because of it.

He does have to admit that after 6000 years, it’s wearing on him.

Does he really want to stand still when moving forward could be so exciting?

He’s spent his entire existence inspiring love in others. If he lets an opportunity for love pass him by, would another 6000 years be worth it?

“Have not saints lips,” Crowley says, “and holy palmers too?”

“Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.”

“O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do.” Crowley inches closer, moving his chair with demonic power to keep it silent – preserve the mood. He’s nose to nose with Aziraphale when he says, “They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.”

“Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake.”

“Then move not,” Crowley says in a velvety whisper against Aziraphale’s lips that the angel has never heard before, “while my prayer’s effect I take.” He raises a hand, runs the back of it down Aziraphale’s cheek, ending with a finger beneath his chin. He glances at Aziraphale’s mouth, his breath hitching when Aziraphale holds his.

And here it is – the kiss that will mean nothing.

Not for Crowley. For him, this kiss means everything.

Can a single kiss translate all the love he has for his angel? How continuing on the way they are has been slowly shattering him to pieces?

He prays it can. He’s never been able to put it into words.

He leans closer, the chair he’s on tipping to reach, but before their lips touch, Aziraphale leans away.

Crowley jerks back, staring at Aziraphale in agony, his stony eyes drenched in heartache. But Aziraphale smiles. He reaches up with his free hand and passes it over Crowley’s eyes. Then he carefully removes the demon’s glasses. In a second of mild panic, Crowley turns away, searching out of sight of the audience for a reflective surface to look into.

What was Aziraphale doing?

What had he done!?

Crowley finds one over Aziraphale’s shoulder – the sliver of a mirror peeking out from behind one of the bookshelves. At first blush, he sees himself with hazel human eyes. But they shimmer with magic – Aziraphale’s magic. If he concentrates, Crowley can see his yellow eyes underneath. But for the benefit of those who don’t know he’s a demon, Aziraphale has come up with this.

Because he does want to kiss Crowley, more than anything. More than he ever let on.

And he doesn’t want anything getting in the way.

Aziraphale leans in – innocent Juliet luring Romeo back - but Crowley catches him, capturing his mouth with his own and breathing him in as if Aziraphale is his first breath of air in forever. Their hands, only politely grasping before this point, hold one another, fingers weaving together, so infinitely matched nothing could break them apart.

Crowley doesn’t move farther than an inch away when that kiss ends and he recites his next line. But he has to, because it’s too fitting not to say. “Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged.”

Aziraphale doesn’t open his eyes when they part, too star struck to remember where they are, what they’re doing … or the fact that twelve pairs of eyes are watching them at this moment.

In retrospect, perhaps Crowley was right. Maybe he should have had Crowley kiss him once before this … for practice. So he wouldn’t be caught out of left field.

But he’s waited this long for perfection.

And that kiss definitely left perfection in the dust.

“Then have my lips the sin that they have took,” he manages in a trembling voice.

“Sin from thy lips?” Crowley murmurs, eyes sweeping over Aziraphale’s face, drinking him in. “O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again.”

“Yes, please,” Aziraphale whispers.

Crowley grins. “That’s not the next line, angel.”

“Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a fu---“

Crowley swallows his angel’s profanity with another kiss, sliding a hand up the back of Aziraphale’s neck and into his hair, grabbing gently and pulling him closer. Aziraphale’s hand finds Crowley’s neck and does the same. And with that one kiss, Crowley and Aziraphale have jumped straight from Act I to Act III.

Twelve jaws drop.

Brian looks at Pepper, but Pepper shakes her head. “Don’t even think about it,” she says. “I’m playing Mercutio.”

He turns and looks at Wensleydale, but Wensleydale backs away. “Look, you’re one of my best friends in the universe, but I’m not doing that.”

Adam looks over at Warlock, eyebrows raised. Warlock shrugs. “Yeah, all right,” he says. “Go grab a chair.”

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #frankie writes

[hazzabeeforlou]

Digging Deeper

Thanks @alienfuckeronmain for the tag, this I’ve loved reading everyone’s, and I tag @taintedlav @rahashirley @raisemybody @twopoppies @cuethetommo @metal-eye and @seasurfacefullofclouds1 if anyone wants to play!! 

1. Do you prefer writing with a black pen or blue pen? ink color matters less than ball-point-ness... 

2. Would you prefer to live in the country or city? I want a witch’s cottage with a giant messy garden on the edge of the moors and a forest a million miles away from everyone. So country. 

3. If you could learn a new skill what would it be? I’ve actually stretched myself this summer! Am learning French and guitar, and idk if it counts but learning my new job which I NEVER thought I could handle lol since I’ve never worked retail 

4. Do you drink your tea/coffee with sugar? Honey ;)

5. What was your favourite book as a child? Well I have to say Narnia and Redwall, but when I was very tiny I loved this book about a girls who could whistle and speak to animals (named Mable) and the Velveteen Rabbit, and a book called “The Lost Princess” which is fucking amazing, by the precursor to CS Lewis, George MacDonald

6. Do you prefer baths or showers? I usually take showers because baths take too much time. Also baths are romantic and that makes me sad, and also I have to look at my body which, ug, not prepared to do that all the time rip

7. If you could be a mythical creature, which one would it be? Mer. Fucking. Maid. Though I’ve always wanted to fly too, I used to spend HOURS in the water just underwater swimming with my legs stuck together just pretending to be on ocean adventures

8. Paper or electronic books? I usually much prefer paper, but since I got these blue light blocking glasses I am finding i’m fine either way physically. Soul-wise though, yeah, paper

9. What is your favourite item of clothing? Probably my mango colored crop hoodie that I once smashed melting frozen blueberries on and then spent hours and days getting the stains out...

10. Do you like your name or would you like to change it? My real name is super boring and typical, though I do like it. I enjoy my tumblr name a lot, Toni, and it feels more genderless and constrictive than my actual name lol

11. Who is a mentor to you? I’ve had so many great teachers, but the biggest lesson I’ve learned in life is that so many you admire can be deeply flawed. I have lots of trust issues. I only take advice from a select few people, and they don’t include anyone ‘old and wise’ lol 

12. Would you like to be famous and if so, what for? Oh for sure, I used to want to be an actress or a rock star or whatever. Famous author. I would fucking LOVE to have a platform and help people and cheer people up and see people grocery shopping and have instant friends. I know that sounds terribly naive but I’ve said before I share a lot of Harry’s personality, and I just love flirting with people and smiling with them and giving hugs. Now, I would want to be famous as TONI me and not real me, because then I could never be myself because my fam would find out rip

13. Are you a restless sleeper? Depends on my mattress. Currently, yes, ugg. I wake up in an omega nesting scene from a fic every morning

14. Do you consider yourself a romantic person? Unfortunately yes. 

15. Which element best represents you? idk I usually say fire but I’m feeling more water lately 

16. Who do you want to be closer to? I’m working on getting to know my amazing sister better, and that’s been lovely.  

17. Do you miss someone at the moment? All my friends have been long distance for actual years, so i don’t miss anymore more than normal. I am missing just... the POTENTIAL for someone. This indefinite distancing is wearing on me. 

18. Tell us about an early childhood memory. I was like two or three, and we were out on a full moon walk and I was in my stroller in the red sheepskin bundled up, and I remember coming up our sidewalk and looking at the world and moon and thinking, “remember this moment, or you’re going to grow up and forget how wonderful it was.” Also when I was five I had a breakdown on my mom’s lap because “I’m going to grow up and be too big to be sung lullabies to!” and I didn’t want anything to change EVER  

19. What is the strangest thing you have eaten? I used to make a concoction of rye crackers, mustard, and pickles. Don’t ask

20. What are you most thankful for? all the opportunities I’ve had in life. I’m so massively privileged 

21. Do you like spicy food? depends on how hot

22. Have you ever met someone famous? I saw a few celebs in NYC, Shosh from Girls, the guy from Monk, Tim Gun, John Oliver (and his golden retriever) and I passed a drunk as a skin Alec Baldwin outside Lincoln Center one day. Probably other people I didn’t recognize. Oh and S**** M***** rented my instrument right before covid hit here, and drunk him (or high him) couldn’t believe he had a h*** to play around on, and then I saw him staring at mountains being the most stereotypical rich white boy ever, also he did not send out gay vibes but don’t let that stop your Shiall, please don’t let it  

23. Do you do you keep a diary or journal? I almost always start with the new year and do like. A day. And then forget. 

24. Do you prefer to use a pen or a pencil? PEN

25. What is your star sign? Aries sun, Aquarius moon, Pisces rising

26. Do you like your cereal soggy or crunchy? Depends on the cereal, those golden grams were BEST thoroughly soaked in milk fight me 

27. What would you want your legacy to be? make the world a little better 

28. Do you like reading, what was the last book you read? Yes but you know, i’m the worst at making time for it. Still getting through that Brief Interviews with Hideous Men or whatever it is

29. How do you show someone you love them? Just thinking of them and doing little things to surprise them, I think

30. Do you like ice in your drinks? Yep the smaller and more crush friendly the better 

31. What are you afraid of? I really do not. like. limb loss. no horror movies for me EVER

32. What is your favourite scent? wet Labrador because it means there’s a WET LABRADOR

33. Do you address older people by their name or surname? surname always unless I’ve always known them by firsts. Religion, man

34. If money was not a factor, how would you live your life? I have this dream of buying up all the land shitty developers snatch up in this country and ceding it back to its rightful owners. I’ve legit cried over little forests turned into parking lots, thanks Joni Mitchell 

35. Do you prefer swimming in pools or the ocean? pools are so clean and have no sharks or jellyfish. that said, they also have no waves... 

36. What would you do if you found £50 on the ground? turn it into the store it was closest to. I’m the lawful good box and yes I hate it

37. Have you ever seen a shooting star? YES in Breckenridge one year I saw a fucking meteor shower! I’ve wished on some, they’ve never come true I don’t think. 

38. What is the one thing you would want to teach your children? I’m too scared to have children even if I could (I can’t) because of the pressure of what would fuck them up and what wouldn’t 

39. If you had to have a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it? I love my baby tat @alienfuckeronmain gave me, idk if I’d want another one someday, maybe a sister tat with my sis

40. What can you hear now? The fan, my typing, my parents watching old TV shows

41. Where do you feel the safest? With a pet outside in nature somewhere

42. What is the one thing you want to overcome/conquer? putting limits on things /myself/people

43. Of you could travel back to any era, what would it be? You know I used to really DREAM about this shit, but since I realized I would have genetically DIED in any other era, and that my dreaming was a literal result of white privilege since it would fucking SUCK to be anyone else (I mean even now it’s awful wtf) I just. Stick with the present. 

44. What is your most used emoji? the laughing face. oops. 

45. Describe yourself using one word. Supercalifragelisticexpialidocious

46. What do you regret the most? I have so many. social. anxiety. nightmares from my 28 years of life that haunt me

47. Last movie you saw? l think it was the Downton Abbey movie? 

48. Last tv show you watched? Monk 

49. Invent a word and it’s meaning. Surplumn. a really divinely wonderful thing, like ‘oh her lips are surplumn’ like a juicy chocolate mousse and perky breasts idk 

#tag games #this was fun but did take forever lol #about me

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Animal (13)

Chadwick Boseman X Original Female Character “Sianna”

Chapter Warning: Cursing, Angst, Plot, Plenty of Words, Slow Burn

Word Count: 2.8k

Note:  I hope you guys enjoy this. By the way, Tumblr is on the BS and flagged every chapter because my old mood board had a portrayal of backshots. LMFAO!!!! So new mood board.

I censored my mood board, let’s see if it gets flagged. LOL

**Loosely edited/Proofread***

Thank you guys for reading!!!  If you enjoyed this please LIKE, REBLOG, COMMENT. ❤️ ❤️

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

-Sianna-

  MSG Mom: You have missed the last several months of Sunday dinners. That is inexcusable young lady. I get that you’re busy, everyone is busy. We are all busy. We all make the time. Why can’t you?

  You’d been staring at the message from her for the last few hours. After the last dinner you’d missed your brothers warned you that she was on a rampage. They told you to expect her call. You dodged the calls but this you couldn’t dodge. It had been months since you made an appearance at the biweekly family dinner. In the beginning, it was due to your insane work schedule and all the time you had to put into establishing your line and brand. Now with the pregnancy, it was terror. You knew you couldn’t show up to family dinner six months pregnant, especially when the last time they saw you, you weren’t and had no prospects as your mother would say.

 If you showed up preggers your mother would have a heart attack at the scandal alone. Your brothers would go into cabin in the woods ax murderer mode, your father would probably understand but be disappointed that you’d rearranged the order of events skipping boyfriend and marriage altogether. Everyone would have something to say and you were nowhere near prepared to handle any of it.

Groaning you dropped back onto your bed and closed your eyes. Maybe if you lied here long enough this would all fade away and you’d realize it was an insane fever dream and you weren’t pregnant with a near stranger's babies, and tackling all of it alone. Five, fifteen, then thirty minutes passed with you laying there in silence without a thought in your mind besides the yoga breathing you’d been learning the last two weeks you’d began Lamaze classes.

 When you opened your eyes everything was still calm, and you nearly forgot everything, but then felt a powerful jab in your abdomen. You shot right up and touched your stomach, the tiny imprint of some body part pressed against your right palm. A smile tickled your lips until you were full-on grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

 “Yep, not a dream. Reality.” You slowly rubbed your belly. Where your hands roamed the movements followed. Soon you were feeling a symphony of kicks all over your stomach and you sat there smiling enjoying every second. It was surreal, yes, but it wasn’t nearly as alarming now as it had been several weeks ago.

 “What are we gonna do guys? We have to get our shit together. Work is great, I can handle work but everything else. How do I even begin to go home to your grandparents and tell them about you? How do I face them? Then what do I do about your daddy?”

 The thought of referring to Chadwick as their daddy made you smile and your heart flutter. It filled you with warmth and more than half of you liked calling him that. He was their father. They had half his DNA and would probably look something like him. You hadn’t thought much about anything beyond being pregnant and having a lot going on. This was the first time you began to think about the secondary things.

 “He has rights, I know that. I don’t want to take them away. I just—he’s so famous and he’ll be even more famous. His career takes him everywhere, how do I know that he can be there for us? You, I mean for you. This has nothing to do with me. Right?”

 The sound of your doorbell broke you out of your monologue. As you walked down the stairs you continued to rub your belly enjoying the kicks, pushes and slithers you felt. It was strange to feel movement inside of you but it wasn’t something that made your skin crawl, it did the opposite. When you looked at the video of the front doorbell you smiled seeing your friends.

 “My God, could you have taken any longer?”

 “Excuse me, I am pregnant and carrying more weight.”

 The three of them walked in past you and made a line straight for the kitchen where you knew the wine was.

 “Girl please, you’re barely pregnant, and the only more weight you’re carrying is that ass,” Ebony teased. You smiled and dipped down to do a baby twerk. The three of them cheered loudly as you fanned them off.

 Once the three of you were seated around your kitchen island Zee was the one to pop the top off the wine bottle.

 “It’s barely three Zee.”

 “Three in LA means it’s well past five in New York,” she responded pouring the golden liquid in their three glasses.

 “None for you baby mama,” Tessa said as she slid a can of apple Izze your way. You rolled your eyes, popped the top and took a sip.

 “I didn’t want any wine anyway.”

 “How are you doing? You’re getting bigger.” Ebony’s hand flew to your belly and rubbed your bump.

 “I’m okay. I am. I think I’m going to have to go into maternity in the next week or two.”

 “Six months, with twins I’d say there are many women who would be jealous at that fact,” Tessa added.

 “What’s going on with the father?”

 “Zee, you can say his name he’s not the damn Candyman. Jesus, Chadwick Boseman. I still can’t believe you met, and popped that pussy for Chadwick Boseman in record time and came away with two souvenirs of your time together. Girl, talk about luck,” Ebony went on.

 “Luck?”

 “Yes, there are plenty of women who would love to be in your position, hell any of the positions he had you in.”

 The three of them snickered and you shook your head but couldn’t keep the smirk off your face.

 “If they wanna be me so bad, go ahead. This is messy.”

 “Have you heard from him since he showed up here to catch you with your new boo?”

 “Another thing, who dates and has a boo while being six months pregnant?”

 You narrowed your eyes at Ebony. She quickly raised her hands in surrender.

 “First of all, I don’t have a boo. Things with Chino are—over. We had a talk after Chad showed up here and he wants to take a step back, he thinks I don’t know what I want and that I should focus on figuring it out.

 “Smart man,” Tessa murmured.

 “So, Chino is out of the picture. I can’t even blame him for not wanting anything to do with me. I’m having babies with Chadwick Boseman.”

 “He knows he can’t compete with The Bleck Pantha,” Ebony chided in her best Wakanda accent. You rolled your eyes; you’d just about had it with her. Zee and Tessa snickered together.

 “Ebony.”

 Again, she raised her hands in defeat. You knew she’d pipe up again with something else to say that was slick and smart.

 “Chad and I spoke, I told him everything and apologized for not telling him sooner.”

 “How did he take it?”

 You finished the can of Izze and went to the fridge for another and took the bowl of cut strawberries out as well.

 “He took it well. There was no yelling or screaming, or tears. It was a calm conversation—surpisingly calm considering.”

 “Anything decided? Does he want to be involved with his babies? Are the two of you going to I don’t know make a relationship?”

 “Will you be moving in with him?”

 Their questions hit you in the face one after the other like slabs of ice. They were questions you hadn’t thought about and definitely hadn’t even addressed. They were way ahead of the game.

 “Guys, chill. We didn’t decide anything. He asked me if I wanted him involved and I had no answer for him.”

 “What the hell you mean you had no answer? Si.” Ebony gaped at you ready to elaborate her outrage but the stern look on your face shut her up.

 “What did you tell him then?”

 “I said I don’t know. Guys, I really don’t know. I know he has rights and all that but not everyone who has kids should be involved with them.”

 “True, but if a man is willing, able and wanting to be there for his offspring, you have an obligation to allow him, especially a black man. Remember those statistics and stereotypes are a thing. He doesn’t want to be part of the fray,” Tessa explained. She was speaking nothing but facts, you knew it.

 “He didn’t say he wanted to be involved. He was clearly in shock. It was a lot to hear and absorb, still pregnant, over five months so, pregnant with twins. It was a lot. We left things with both of us needing to think and really figure out what we each want.”

 “What do you want Sianna?” Zee’s voice was gentle and her hands soft as she held one of yours. You took a deep breath and slowly released it. You didn’t know any more now than you did two weeks ago.

 “I got nothin.”

 “Okay, this was a productive chat.” Ebony rolled her eyes, finished her glass of wine and shook her head. “It’s okay to say you want to be with him. You know that right? It’s okay to want to experience this with him. You can be strong and independent together.”

 “Ebony is right. I know those are foreign words when using her name but in this particular situation, she is right. There is nothing wrong with figuring it out together,” Tessa breeched.

 “I have an idea. Maybe the two of you should spend some time together. It will give both of you an opportunity to get to know each other better hence seeing where the two of you are mentally. It should give you some form of an idea what would work and hopefully, that will make it easier to figure out.”

 The four of you sat there thinking about Zee’s idea. It was a good one, a really good one. The kicks began again, and you touched your belly. “You guys wanna feel?”

 All hands flew to your belly and the next ten minutes were spent oohing and aahing over the kicks. After the four of you burrowed into the couches and found a Netflix movie while discussing baby stuff. They were excited for the babies and it showed with how long they were able to talk about it without even mentioning a club or even any of their latest conquests. The more you listened to them the more excited you became.

By the time seven rolled around they’d left and you were alone again. This time you were sitting in your tub trying to get a head start on your schedule for the next day while getting distracted with baby websites. You’d just finished your second bottle of the cherry limonatta you’d just gotten into drinking. It gave you the fizz and sweetness of wine without the alcohol. Who knew knocking the wine for nine months would be such a challenge? That was when your mind ran onto Chadwick. In truth, he wasn’t far from your mind at any given moment. You had his spawn growing in you and they’d been very active today.  

 You chewed your bottom lip and opened a new browser window on your iPad and entered his name in google. Yes, you knew about him, who didn’t, but you didn’t know everything. You were curious. As the search results populated the first one caught your eye; an image of him with a brown-skinned woman. You squinted and you could have sworn you’d seen her from somewhere. You tried to think back to where it could have been but for the life of you, you couldn’t place her face. You clicked the article and skimmed its contents. Her name was Simone and they were dating, or they had until at least a couple months ago. You wondered what happened and if you’d had anything to do with it.

 You continued to go through the search results and read through the first page of articles. You’d found out his upcoming roles, recent interviews, and even learned a little more about what was going on between him and Valentina. Every time you saw a picture of them together you wanted to vomit. After thirty or so minutes you’d gotten a lot of information and you’d come to the conclusion that he seemed to be a pretty good guy. Your iPad was now stopped on a very good shot of him. He was a good-looking man.

 Suddenly your iPad went off making you shriek and jump nearly dropping it into the lukewarm water. Chadwick’s name appeared. You froze unsure exactly what to do. After the third ring, you recovered and tapped the green answer button. His face appeared in a dewy white light. Without thinking you sucked your bottom lip into your mouth admiring his handsomeness.

 “Hi.”

 “Hi,” you repeated on a whisper.

 “Is it late? Am I interrupting? Did I wake you?”

 “No, no, you’re not interrupting. I was awake, just sitting in the bath.”

 Chadwick’s eyebrow shot up as he looked below your face. You looked at your image checking to make sure you weren’t turning this into soft porn. The frame caught the cleavage of your breasts but nothing provocative. He’d seen this before. Chadwick shook his head and brought his eyes back to yours.

 “Uh—I’m sorry.”

 “It’s fine. No harm, no foul.”

 Silence fell between you. The two of you just sat there looking over each other’s faces. The silence didn’t feel awkward at all.

“Are you doing okay?”

 “Yeah, I’m okay. We’re okay.”

 “Do you need anything? Pickles, ice cream, hot wings?”

 You snorted and pinched your lips, he thought he was funny with all the pregnant woman clichés.

 “Those are a lot of clichés sir.”

 “I mean clichés had to start somewhere right?”

 You nodded and leaned back, your body coming down from the anxiety it was in.

 “I don’t crave pickles, the only accurate thing there was the ice cream and hot wings. I’ve also recently started wanted a lot of chocolate-covered strawberries. I can’t seem to get enough which spells trouble for my ass.”

 Chadwick smiled and rubbed his hand along his goatee.

 “This is the one time you can unapologetically adhere to the eating for two phrase, so why not?”

 “Well, eating for three if you want to be accurate.”

 “See, play that shit up.”

 You laughed loud, it echoed through your bathroom. Chadwick joined in and you remembered his deep boisterous laugh that was all unique to him. It was a laugh you first heard in Jamaica across the beach before he approached and danced with you. It was a great laugh. Slowly your laughs died down and again the two of you just stared at each other.

 “Do you uh—do you have a good supply of ice cream, hot wings, and chocolate-covered strawberries?”

 You were tempted to read between the lines but decided against it.

 “Finished the strawberries today, you can never have enough a supple of ice cream or hot wings.”

 He nodded and licked his lips. Your eyes dropped to them and again you remembered the feel of them and how he kissed you. You couldn’t remember their taste though. It had been that long.

 “Would it be all right if we met up?”

 “Met up?”

 “Yeah, I thought maybe we could do something, talk.”

 It sounded like he was asking you out on a date, but it also didn’t sound like he was asking you out on a date.

 “Something like what?”

 “Well, I like to stay away from most places in LA.”

 “I can imagine, the Bleck Pentha gets recognized wherever he goes.”

 Chadwick smiled again but looked away as if he were embarrassed. “Go on laugh it up. Get it out.” You smiled and watched him and spoke on pure instinct without thinking.

 “You can come here.”

 The silence returned and Chadwick just gazed at you and looked as if he were in deep thought. You were holding your breath unsure what his answer would be.

“Are you sure?”

 “Uh—I mean only if you want to. If you don’t then I completely understand. You don’t have to; I’m not trying to force you,” you rushed out in an effort to cover yourself.

 “No, no, I never said I don’t want to. I know you’re not trying to force me. I do want to,” Chadwick rushed out overlapping your voice.

 “You do?” The uncertainty in your voice was evident. You were surprised.

 “I mean—yeah.”

 You smiled small but it took no time at all for it to spread across your face.

 “Okay, sounds like a plan then. We’ll—Netflix and Chill.”

 Chadwick’s eyebrows shot up again and you realized what you’d just said.

 “Oh my god. Wait, I didn’t mean that the way it came out.”

 He laughed his hearty laugh again and you gave you a “yeah right” look. 

“Oh my god, I’m serious. Jesus, I’ll see you in a bit.”

 You ended the call to Chadwick’s laughter. You put your iPad to the side and shook your head, mortified at your tongue slip. 

~~~~~~~~~~

***If you want to be tagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!! ❤️❤️

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TagList:

@sarahboseman @texasbama @heyauntieeee @airis-paris14 @thiccdaddy-mbaku @wakandas-vibranium @wakanda-inspired @theunsweetenedtruth @ashanti-notthesinger @reignsxjackson @halfrican-heat @ambthegamer @simplyyamberr @muse-of-mbaku @sisterwifeudaku @mejustme06 @stressedgyal @ilcb7 @leahnicole1219 @destinio1 @maliadestiny @drsunshine97 @blowmymbackout @purplehairgawdess @thehuntoyobun @wakandamama @wakandawinning @profilia @zxddy-panther @h-challa @babygirlofwakanda @misswakanda2018 @challaxkillmonger @ororowrites @hutchj @myfavemarvelfanfics @lavitabella87 @afraiddreamingandloving @autumn242 @purple-apricots @skysynclair19 @hersheyskissesss @blue-ishx @blublubleu @90sinspiredgirl  @kumkaniudaku @tchallaswife @tchallamakesmeh0lla @turn-thy-paige @blackchickfics @blackpantherismyish @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @naturally-bri @flawlesslybeautiful14 @qweentbh @lunaerly @theoutereffect @twilight-sapphire-lover @pupyluv247 @stark-red19 @cockyboysandsugarism @maverickabull @madbadsiren @aykanna @myaw731 @ruruly20 @mixedmelanin @brittyevans @bezzywazhere @laketaj24   @taint3dvirgin @soulsparker @theresnomoregoodones @syreanne @loveandcigarillos  @heybriheyyy @wakanda-bcth @uhlxis  @dadinhas-heat @yaachtynoboat711 @geeksareunique @bultalongthewayside @ajspencer1892 @captiansaveasmut @imaginewhoever @terrablaze514 @starsshines-blog @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @darkandlovely94 @sithlordslut @wavyyc @naturalistamisslyn @nigarachi15 @madamslayy @blackandfair @kreolemami @mylastnameisthe-fish @kaykay0829 @chaneajoyyy @tequilajay27 @blacklotus-of-the-black-kingdom @slimmiyagi @im5ftbutmythroat66 @jaeee-http @madhatterhelsing @sunflowerpsalms @wakanda-shit-is-that @deliciousstreetkidcroissant @jecourt @vebner37 @disneysdarlingdiva @melaninmarvel @alanastormborn @dolphinpink310 @wonderbell @ohleucothea @queentearra @bitchbetterhavemydinner @fentybabyy @kaykay4454fan @priya212 @kitkit1690 @chrismarcs @beautycomesindifferentformsworld @blackpantherimagines @ovohanna24 @sweetpeachjones @kslo000 @nubian-queen18 @omgsuperstarg   @prettyprincessushio @treeondrea  @ursapharoh05  @blackpinup22 @kaytauru @big3gocandykahn @kissingpineapples @wildaboutchrisevans  @fitfineandstayingalive @misspooh @michele-onel @gorjiss @muva-milaje @limbo-limbo-limbo @awkwardlyabstract @blxck-brxndie @meeky-imagines @inlovewith3 @metalarmlover @mellowjellow6 @sweettea-and-honeybutter @thatrandomhetaliachick @missdeerstalker15 @marvelheaux @romanceoftheeveryday @mufasathatniggatho @cltex84 @sweetbearcolorgarden @msincognito67 @mosagram @mar-ta-3 @ljstraightnochaser @lewatigress @akimi-youngblood @beezywazhere @bekahdean87 @teechallas-blog @jasmindaughteroftheworld @cocooned-butterfly @emoniclark22 @chereedrop619 @theblulife @niggarachi15 @great-neckpectations @avenger-marvel-fan @hersheyskissesss-blog  @arieljamiyla @vibranium-soul @apileofmiscsomethings @niecey4cocaine @missumuch1918 @chillavesss @heynessss @shamelessqueenobservation @cetouna @cosmicmelaninflower @tntnv @dopegalkk @babyblowomg @somansystars-and-westillstarve @determinednot2fall @zoezoe34 @chasingsunlight @somanystars-and-westillstarve @diamyyyyy @give-me-a-million-dollars-pls@shyblackgirl @your-resident-evil @stillevansbae @sheisexcellent @oceanscorazon @hautehoneyfitness @bistoolada @sunigyrl @igotmadskills @adifferentme @bugngiz @mellowcyclepuppy @wellthirsted @caramara3 @pananegra @amethyst09 @champagnesugamama   @marvelfansworld @kemkem101 @periodtevans @fullonfrenzy @domdollass @deansbbysblog @captainsamwlsn @westindianshorty @90sinspiredgirl @cutewylie

#animal fic #Chadwick Boseman #chadwick boseman fanfiction #chadwick boseman x reader #chadwick boseman x you #chadwick boseman x black reader #chadwick boseman smut #angst fanfic #slow burn fanfic

[swampgallows]

i got distracted earlier and forgot to post but im thankful for my mutuals who have helped me time and again, even if it’s in ways you may not know. i appreciate you all so much and i am so grateful for the friends i’ve made here and the small but intimate community cultivated through tumblr. 

zbfc and wch, thank you for everything. @zeyan i love you with all my heart and i’m so fucking thankful i could have funny airbnb time with you and @aeiroki grimlock hunterpunter. you make me laugh every single day and i always want the best for you both (and jack!!! and PARKER!!!)

@lokaror thank you for letting me share my love of rexxar and bears with you. we’ve shared a lot of fantastic laughs together, some very fun stuff and some very deep shit too. i treasure every one of our convos together, and your playlists too!

@reglei thankful i finally got to beat you into submission at blizzcon. youre a sweetheart and a sleepyhead. thanks for listening to me ramble late into the night. i appreciate all the times youve had my back, whether it was creepy dudes or spoilers or w/e. you shoulda killed me w gorehowl when you had the chance

I LOVE @amarysue i miss you when you work long hours but i’m always so happy when we get to play games together. i hope you can leave the mcdonalds playplace soon. also i dont get to say it much but i love talking about academic stuff with you. i know i rib you about dark leafy greens but you are very educated in a lot of amazing fields and i love when you share your knowledge with me!!! i love amary!!!!

@theabsolutevoid i know youre the void but youre a golden human being of radiant light. you are so spectacular, we are all always in amazement of your passion and creativity and constant flow of ideas, and your compassion seems boundless. i am so grateful to know such a special person and spent many late nights laughing to tears with you

@perce the dynamic duo... im thankful daygo got me into ladybug so i could hear all of your amazing takes on it as they are equally as hilarious as your wow takes. i admire your resilience, though that might be weird to say, and though i know i’m an old crone youre definitely a role model for me taking command of my own life and establishing boundaries to become the person i want to be. i’m so grateful we got to spend blizzcon together again!! and thank you for getting me the long-forgotten hippogryph. its a very important memory to me.

refugees i know i dont pop in much but i still love you all dearly. im embarrassed actually because you are all functional adults and i’m not but when i get a job and reenter society i want to be able to come back and say i’m a big kid now

thrainosh squad @irenthel @wckhamm etc thank you for letting me indulge my interests without ridicule or judgment. @fitzefitcher i dunno you changed my life SORRY there is not a less fucked up way to say that. no pressure

@sithisis & crew thank you for so many incredible hots games and wonderful memories and all of your sweetness and fun times!!! sith you have inspired and supported so much of my writing and my ideas and i am in awe that you are getting so many amazing opportunities working in games journalism!!! i know theres a lot of grunt work but at the end of the day it seems like youre really doing something you genuinely love (and are good at!!) and i’m so happy for you. you work hard and you deserve it. im love skitty w a gun 

@steblynkaagain your art is such an inspiration to me, and i’m amazed by your cosplay too! i’m thankful that even across language barriers we can enjoy thraina and silly modern AUs together. i am so impressed by your intelligence and achievements. your comic where you pledge yourself to Thrall’s Horde is still so important to me, and every day i think about your mechanic garrosh..... and doctor drek’thar, and doctor thrall, and SHAMAN GARROSH....... (sob)

@captainkaprozyx and @sdei ... i am so thankful for all of your artwork and your amazing gifts. i am working on getting them framed, and your zine was amazing! you are a great team and I love your collaborations. also sdei’s birthday gift is still my discord icon. we just really love a big guy huh....... cannot express how inspiring your artwork is. the detail, the colors... it brings me to tears, i am so stunned. you are both so incredibly talented!

@omnifariousness bro i dont even know where to start. many good dog times and we can strike up the late night jawin again soon i hope. shit has been scattered and i know youve been dippin back n forth on the road but i hope the shit evens out soon for you. excited for you to see tool in feb and damn dude every DAY i think about the reading you treated me to of the 40k stuff for your reel. god man i want that VA shit to work out for you bad. your diction is impeccable and you so deserve it

@darnjam i know you guys dont read this but i love you so much and every day i’m so thankful we’re all still friends. @daygloow thank you for being like the sole source and catalyst for my personal development for like the last 3 years, im so proud of you and everything youve worked so hard to achieve and i’m so glad youre getting the recognition you deserve. thank you for always picking me up (vehicular and emotional) and for watching cartoons n playin vidya with me. god whens the next GOOD rave? i need to make you proud and actually dj so i can play banana

@bluntcrusher every day i’m like god when will king tori take the throne... im so thankful that youre in a good spot finally and that youre getting the love you deserve. and plus a sweet pucci mane. my blogs a mess but im glad youre still stickin around for it haha. always happy to see youre safe and THRIVING

@swarnpert love you dude thank you for lettin me harass you w 420 snaps. bro when you sent me those sabaton snaps i was in line for the haunted mansion at disneyland during blizzcon and it was just like... my heart was so full, it meant so much to me ALSO HOLY SHIT i love your art please NEVER STOP drawing

@nelfs i love your blog and your art and your FEELINGS like I dunno how to word it in a not-weird way. i think you are a very bright person with a good heart, and i’m thankful to know someone like that, even tangentially. it is fortifying also to see someone stand up for the things they love, whether it’s just a cartoon show or something of serious concern like animal welfare. i admire your healthy relationship to yourself and your strong integrity.

@neophyte-redglare i think about bead world garrosh every fucking day of my life. cannot thank you enough. i treasure it

@redpandalori THIS IS THE MVP RIGHT HERE. i dunno when you started sending me floods of kittums but every day i look forward to it and every single one means so much to me. i wear the kandi you handcrafted for me every single day and i show it off constantly to my friends because it’s just mindblowing. you are so sweet and thoughtful and i love sendin you snaps and it’s just incredible how the internet is. thank you for sending me rain snaps and kito & harley/ears & lilith pics all the time

@hungwy i dunno WHAT you get outta my blog but i’m thankful for the reams of sweet animal pics and interesting linguistic and anthropology posts on your blog. you’re a very positive force on my dash and you seem a wonderful person irl too!

@ubersaur im so happy we’re still mutuals after all this time lmao. you were one of the first aces id ever known so we’ll always have that solidarity and i’ll always be thankful. and i have to seriously catch up on magus bride haha. thank you for all of your love and support after all this time, i hope i offer the same to you!!

@18milliondeadplebs the rare and beautiful nexus of my two sole interests... warcraft and raving. dude just thank you for existing man LMAO i hope we can go ravin together some day

@kontextmaschine what a strange long fuckin trip it’s been dude. super surreal to have raved with you and had you come all the way down for burst but i knew i’d be remiss if youd missed it. you definitely deserved a potent taste of the 90s. thank you for the usb sticks, im still waiting on a worthy recipient for the other two. the majority of your blog is practically in hieroglyphics to me but man when the posts hit... they fuckin hit. i know you dont need me to tell you, but youve got a great talent and weirdass fuckin eye. a very very particular eye. love you man. please kiss badger for me.

@ironbull thank you for suffering in wisdom tooth hell with me. i am glad you had a good time at disney world and im hoping we can both be free of all of our tooth woes soon. thank you also for your advice and support in my personal stuff too!!

@kittensceilidh thank you for your sweet messages! every one of your hugs means a lot to me!!! it is nice to feel seen when i am in dark places.

@dimedog warcraft and foggy forests... hell yeah dude

@tim-official man sometimes it really is as simple as just laughing at the same funny shit, but youve reached out to me too and i appreciate it!!!

@peanotbotter thank you for all of the laughs and the kind words! thank you for caring about me, i care about you too!! i hope we can play hots again or wow together soon!!! 

wow this got long but i love a bunch of people. there are more of you that i love and are very special to me and i apologize if i didnt get to you. i hope you all had a nice holiday, if you celebrated. thank you for believing in me

#blathering

[theartoflivingalways]

i’ve been awake for over 24 hours

I haven’t been on tumblr in years. i stopped using it after high school, but I don’t know why. but now I’m back tonight, because I needed someone to talk to, but I have no one to listen. i have friends, i have family, i have a boyfriend. i have a therapist. but no matter what: i feel so unheard, so unseen, and so ignored by everyone in my life that i literally feel like i have no one to truly turn to. for anything. so, here i am. hope i get a warm welcome!!!

here’s the thing: i’m NOT a depressed person. i’m not sad, i don’t have any major mental health issues apart from anxiety and some adhd. and before you take that the wrong way, please don’t. i just got my master’s degree in social work and i’ll be starting my new job as a therapist in a couple of weeks.

but, i’m also NOT a happy person. tbh, i can’t really describe my overall ~mood~ or whatever you wanna call it. i kinda just wake up and survive the day, every day. i take it one day at a time ... kinda like what AA says to do; but no, before you ask or the thought crosses your mind, i’m not an addict. at least not a alcohol/other drugs addict ??? sorry

maybe this is why there’s no one to listen when i need them to. i fucking ramble about literally nothing before getting to the point. 

it’s weird that i’m writing right now (ok, typing???). i haven’t done this since i was little. it feels good to do this, to have some sort of outlet when you feel so fucking unseen and unheard by every. single. person. around you. 

so i haven’t slept in over 24 hours. it’s my own fault for sure and i have adderall to thank for that (yes i’m prescribed). i decided to start a blog again because i’m sitting here, still wide awake in my apartment, alone, while my boyfriend is sound asleep in my bedroom.

so what’s my fucking problem??? why do i want someone to talk to?? i don’t know honestly. i just feel like lately all i do is listen to others, help others, give myself completely to others. and in return, i get nothing. nothing even close to what i give, or to what i’m capable of giving. which is sad. not for me particularly (maybe?), but for others, yes, i think so. 

i’m not saying that i expect anything in return for helping others, because i don’t. i didn’t enter the field of social work for the fucking money. and i know a lot of fucked up shit is going on in the world right now, and in no way do i want to minimize ANY of that. i’m just feeling a little lost and lonely, so i’m hoping this is a new outlet for me to sort out those feelings.

the last couple of hours, i’ve had a LONG string of thoughts. if you read through, you’ll eventually found out how they started. but one of the things i’ve been wrestling with in my mind is the type of person i am. 

you see, it’s difficult to be “that” person for others your whole life, especially all the fucking time. if you’re anything like me, you know what i mean by that. and if you aren’t anything like me, well, first of all congrats!!!!, and secondly, i’ll explain what i mean.

when you’re “that” person for others, like myself, it’s easy for other people to walk all over you. take advantage of you, take you for granted, expect you to ALWAYS be there no matter the cost. and of course, why wouldn’t they? you’re always there to help. you’re ALWAYS there to offer support, guidance, and advice. you’re nurturing. you listen. you’re a fucking irreplaceable, loyal to death friend. if you’re VERY much like me, you’re also the one person in your family who isn’t a total fuck up (at least not publicly?)

you’re also nonjudgmental, and you were blessed with the curse of being empathic towards others at all times. empathy of course is beautiful and a very good thing to have in this life, but do you know how hard it is to feel for every single person around you.. and not have anyone feel for you???? damn

also, you never let anyone down!! ever. you’re reliable, dependable, trustworthy to the point where it’s almost sketchy because like??? who can be that way to everyone else at all times? you guessed it- people like me and people like u!! (if this is even semi-relatable, i’m sorry) 

but people like us, like you, like me, tend to do this thing where we keep the same shitty fucking toxic people around that have hurt us, continue to hurt us both indirectly and directly, and who have let us down time and time again, because we continue clinging on to the fucking useless hope that “someday they’ll change”. someday, they’ll realize how fucking important you are to them and how shitty their lives are, and would be, without you in it.

you- we - also live by honesty and truthfulness, and assume others just live by this as well. but then you’re proved wrong over and over and over again, yet you never fucking learn your lesson because you are STILL hopeful that somewhere, somehow, deep down, other people DO stand by the morals you try so hard to stand by in life. most of the time, though, you’re completely avoiding the reality of other people and their experiences and who they really are, only to try to fit your own narrative of how you see things and how you think things should be. 

if this sounds anything like you... i’m sorry. i know it all too well. 

i grew up as the “golden child” in my family. not just my immediate family. my entire fucking family. the pressure to be perfect has lead me to develop debilitating anxiety in my 20′s, and it is what it is, but like, why the fuck couldn’t i have anxiety in high school like a normal teenager? why now? 

so yeah my anxiety’s pretty bad. it’s pretty bad tonight, which is why i turned here. to tumblr. to try to write out my thoughts. which, by the way, i’m sorry, because this is an absolute fucking mess and makes no sense. if you are reading this, though, thank you. thank you for listening when no one else seems to.

anyway. growing up with the pressure of being *perfect* has a cost. at least for me it did: 1) anxiety of course, and 2) perfectionist tendencies. these have literally- LITERALLY - ruined my entire college and graduate school experience. perfectionism combined with anxiety is a recipe for fucking disaster, and i’ve been cooking it for years.

i am deliberately writing this without proper punctuation/grammer/whateverthefuckyouwanttocallit, not capitalizing my letters etc., because i want to not have to be so perfect all the time on here, if this is something i’m going to stick to.  i know that sounds silly but it’s actually been very difficult for me to write in all lower-caps and i’m very worried that no one will even read this and HEAR ME because of my literacy negligence (i have no idea if that’s even a real thing or if it even has meaning but it sounded right)

do u want to know why i decided to write this though, truly? what lead to me feeling like i’m “spiraling” - apart from no sleep in over 24 hours now? well, get ready to laugh, because i truly think i’m pathetic and going crazy.

i went to dinner tonight with my boyfriend and his fam. our waitress was a girl i used to know years ago in high school. my boyfriend knew her too. in fact, he knew her VeRY well. for the sake of my anxious overthinking, i don’t feel like going too much into the details of *that* situation, so thanks in advance for understanding.

anyway. this corny bitch made a joke about the current political environment. i won’t say what exactly, because i’d really like to keep my identity as concealed as absolutely possible on here. but long story short, no one really laughed - every one just kinda smiled awkwardly. but you know who did laugh? my boyfriend :) 

TO ME, it seemed intentional. she wasn’t fucking funny, for one. she made a bad - no, a very bad- joke. like one of those corny dad jokes. not even a dad joke actually. a step-dad joke, except your step-dad is a loser that you hate, who treats ur mom/dad bad, has no sense of humor or a horrible sense of humor and idk, just fucking sucks you know ???

sorry that got kinda dark and it was unnecessary but do u know what i mean??? and no, that was literally not relevant to me or my family system/structure in any way. just kinda came to me, ya know? ...writing works in mysterious ways man

alright so if you don’t agree, that’s fine. i already told you to get ready to laugh, because i am well aware of how insane i fucking sound. but you know what makes anxiety & perfectionism 100x harder to cope with? insecurities. and i’m FULL of them. 

so anyway. we left dinner. him & i were driving home. i will admit that i did have some wine at dinner, and i wasn’t drunk but i definitely was feeling cocky enough to stir the pot with him. so, i casually said, “hey... didn’t you date _____?” *insert annoying waitress’s name who i knew once upon a time*

i said it very calmly. very coooool. v collected and nice. he said “no? i’ve never even talked to or hungout with that girl”.

i wish u could see my face as i’m writing this right now bc i cannnot. like i gave u a choice.... the opportunity. tHE SIMPLE opportunity - a chance - to be fucking honest................................

this dude. straight up. lied to my face. about this fucking girl. ???????

YEARS AGO, they most certainly did talk. a lot. in fact, my crAZy ass searched their names on facebook to find their old little love notes to each other that they posted on each others’ walls. which were very cringey but nothing that made me feel jealous or insecure (for once). after all, they were from years ago- i’m talking 5+ - so likeeee.... why would he lie (: 

oh and they definitely did hang out because.... i remember clearly.... a PICTURE OF THE two of them *together* *hangin* (prob bangin too) (sorry) years ago in this now-waitress’s bedroom. i believe it was a ~webcam photo~ that they took on the new mac computer her parents prob bought her. so this photo is now NO WHERE to be found. and believe me, i looked. no, i LURKED. i went to the beginnnning of her instagram posts and deep into her uploaded facebook pictures. ok, not ‘deep’, i literally got to the first pic she ever posted on FB just to try to find this damn picture. and it took me for. fucking. ever. because this bitch has prolly posted a million pictures in the last 5+ years like who does that???

but i swear to fucking whatever the fuck that this picture exists. i have fucking seen it. i’d describe it in perfect detail right now as if i saw it today, but, once again, i’m concealin my identity, yo, so i can’t do all that. v sorry

anywho. this dude - who i call my boyfriend (and yes i love him very very much and our past is absolutely fucked but that’s a whole other story for a very different time) - had the nerve, the audacity, to tell me to my face, that he “definitely doesn’t have a picture with her” because “they’ve never hung out or talked before” ... ?!??????

obv i sent him screenshots of the dirt i dug up on facebook from 5+ years ago (i.e., the old posts between them in case ya forgot during my rambling) bc like, caught ya in a lie sir. red handed.

i might be late on mentioning this part, but here’s the fucking kicker (and i’ve never used that phrase and i don’t know why i said that but ok?): TODAY, for the first time in MONTHS, literally!!!, bc of the virus and the quarantine and all that, i got ready today for dinner with his family. like actually got ready. i spent HOURS doing my make up. i don’t even remember the last time i did my make up, ok. i dressed in a really cute outfit. i felt fucking very good about myself. i thought for sure when he’d come pick me up to go to dinner he’d at least say something. at least acknowledge it. he has literally only seen me in raw form for too many days now. like, complete bare face and sweat pants basically every day since march.

but. did he even look at me twice?!!? no. did he mention anything about how i looked? how it was drastically different from my everyday attire the last couple months? did he take 2 seconds out of his day to say something corny or flirty to me? even just, “you look beautiful”??? honestly i would’ve even appreciated, “you look beautiful, for once” ???

did u guess the correct answer? well if u didn’t, it’s N O.

but u know who he did look at twice.

our waitress at dinner.

(: 

i think i wrote enough for one night. if u think this is my anxiety/perfectionism/insecurities combination spiraling out of control after being tamed incessantly for 20+ years, PLZ TELL ME.

but also, if you have a fucking brain, you’d know that:

1) this is definitely NOT the first time i’ve responded to something like this the way i did, and 

2) i really just needed to ramble on and vent about all the shit that’s been going through my mind the last 2 1/2 hours, so there’s that.

have a good night get some sleep!!! thank u for ur time. 

#why #me #cantsleep #upfor24hours #adderall #waitress #insecure #perfect #anxiety #sorry #helpme #help #needsleep #dontwanttotho #goodnight #getsomerest #ily #thanku

[cilldaracailin]

Under Pressure

This is something I have been writing while I have been stuck on lock down as I suddenly find myself with a lot of time on my hands. I have been writing fanfiction since I was a teenager and have just got into Tumblr, even though I have had this account for a while. Decided it was time to put it to use and post my story here.

I have also posted it in AO3 and you can find it here:http://www.archiveofourown.org/works/23570293/chapters/56548318

I know fanfiction helps me escape ‘reality’ for a little while, so this is my escape. I hope it can help anyone who reads it escape for a little white too.

*Disclaimer - It’s a complete work of fiction. I have never met Taron or Richard and I have done my best with all the information but as I said, it’s fiction*

1

“The 12-step chocolate program: NEVER BE MORE THAN 12 STEPS AWAY FROM CHOCOLATE!”

“Milk duds or caramel m&m’s?” she asked herself as she stared at the selection of chocolate in the 7/11.

“What?”

“Oh, sorry Claire.” Robyn turned her attention back to the phone which was balanced between her right shoulder and her ear. “I am looking at the what chocolate I am going to stuff my face with tonight.”

“Last day was that bad, huh?”

“Ugh, don’t even go there. I swear, this whole exchange experience would have been perfect if it hadn’t of been for ‘Christina’. Fuck it, I am getting both and Mike and Ike’s and turtles. I need about five packets of turtles.”

“Turtles? Ro, focus!”

“Shit sorry Claire.” Robyn threw a pack of normal and sour Mike and Ike’s into her basket, as well as two packets of milk duds and a packet of caramel m&m’s before she went looking for the red packaging of turtles, her definite go to chocolate while living in The States. “Everyone else in the day care were amazing as you know,” she continued, holding the phone back into her right hand, the basket now hanging in the crook of her elbow of the same arm. “I just don’t know what Christina’s problem was. She knew I was there in a supervisory position and she still just gave me grief and stirred shit. Ohhh white chocolate m&m’s, I’ll have those too.”

Her friend chuckled on the other end of the phone. “Robyn, come on, step away from the chocolate for two minutes.”

“Oh yes crisps! Of course, genius Claire.” She moved down the aisle towards the shelving which held all the many packets of chips and pulled three red bags of Doritos off the shelf and let them tumble into the basket on her arm.

“Not what I meant.”

“Ice cream!”

“Do you want to have a sugar coma on the plane home tomorrow?”

Robyn sighed. “No, I really don’t.”

“Then put the crisps back.” Reluctantly, Robyn put the three bags of crisps she had grabbed back onto the shelf, listening to her best friends’ advice. “Now you can keep the chocolate because you can give me some when we meet but seriously, what happened? I know you. You are avoiding the subject which means something really terrible happened or something really terrible happened.”

Robyn gently dropped the basket onto the ground, stood in the confectionary aisle and turned her attention to her friend, while leaning on a waist high steel basket that was selling scented candles. “Right so I have no idea what got into her head, but she thought it was a wonderful idea to have all thirty-three children out in the garden at the same time, with only two staff members, while the third staff member stayed inside and completed some paper work as Christina told her it was perfectly fine to do that. Thirty-three of them with two staff members! No thought for the children’s safety or our ratios. I went out to speak to her immediately, asking where Judith was, explaining for the millionth time that she, Christina, knows that many children cannot be outside at once and she rolled her eyes at me. Rolled her eyes Claire!” Robyn’s tone was full of disgust. “And of course, as soon as I went to get my teacher stare and voice on, one of the children who was on a motorbike, lost his balance and went straight into the stone wall.”

“No!”

“Oh yes and what did Christina do?”

“Do I want to even know?”

“Told poor little Kevin to get up and walk it off. Jesus, Claire I lost it. I actually let my temper get the better of me and I lost it with her, for about three seconds until I realised that poor little Kevin’s forehead was pumping blood and he was in hysterics.”

“Oh, shit no,”

“Oh, shit yes. I’m only glad I stay calm in a bloody crisis because Louise just stood there staring at the calamity unfolding in front of her and Christina starting freaking out over the blood and despite the noise outside, Judith stayed where she was inside doing paperwork. Then the manager came out during this whole episode to see me holding my hand to Kevin’s head, trying to stop the bleeding, while comforting him, Louise still standing frozen staring and Christina now yelling at me for causing the whole incident outside. Serious shitstorm in a bottle.” Robyn had picked up her basket and walked over towards the fridges, while retelling the drama that had unfolded that morning, opened the door to take out a bottle of mountain dew and put it in her basket.

“Don’t tell me she tried to blame it all on you.”

“Oh tried…” Robyn put her basket back down and on the ground. “…and thought she had succeeded until, Regina, the manager, piped up to say that we, me and her, had been in an exit meeting in the office and both had seen the children playing in the garden in such high numbers on the security camera and she had asked me to go and out and see why it was so and then she also saw the scene Christina was creating and how Kevin had fallen off his bike as there were too many children in the garden. I knew I always like Regina. She always had my back.”

“What about Kevin.”

“Thankfully he was ok. There was a lot of blood, but that was to be expected with a head wound, but thankfully it wasn’t actually that bad. The cut was much smaller than I had anticipated. I cleaned him up and patched him up but had already called his parents and they came and picked him up. Brought him to the doctors to get checked out. They rang as I left work, he will be just fine. They glued the little wound back together and are keeping an eye on him but he will be absolutely fine and hopefully there shouldn’t be a scar either.”

“Well you have had an eventful last day.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Hence the absurd amount of chocolate.”

“Absolutely. My plan is to go home, put on my pyjama’s, finish packing, order my last American pizza, stuff myself stupid on junk food and watch movies that involve some form of a gorgeous looking man.”

“I think that is a perfect plan but please tell me the other girls in the day care were sorry to see you go. I mean it has been the last six months of your life and you were their supervisor.”

Robyn sighed. “It’s been a dream. I have enjoyed it all Claire, you know I have. It has been an incredible experience and the other staff were amazing. I have made some great friends. We had a laugh while working together, taught each other a lot and we definitely enjoyed our last night out together last weekend. It has been such a great programme to get the opportunity to be involved in and to be in Clearwater Florida of all places to do it? You know I love this place. Christina may have been a serious pain in my arse but everyone else has been so lovely and not to mention teaching all the kids. It was so hard to say goodbye to them today. I think I have cried about four times before I actually left the building.”

“I can only imagine but you are back to work here on Monday, right?”

“Yep, I have been speaking to Emma in creche and we are looking forward to bringing some of the ideas I have been working with here into our creche setting. We are going to develop a plan on it once I get settled back in.”

“Yeah into the cold and the rain.” Robyn laughed at her friend’s glumness. “Hope you are going to enjoy your last morning of beautiful sunshine tomorrow.”

Robyn looked down at her sun kissed arms, six months in Florida helping her skin become a dark golden-brown colour, which she knew would be gone in an instant once she was home. “I shall be at the beach first thing, if I survive my sugar coma.” She looked in her basket. “Yeah I need to put some of this back on the shelf.”

“No keep it!” laughed Claire. “I was serious when I said bring it home to me. I can’t wait to see you on Sunday. I will definitely eat those milk duds.” Robyn laughed too. “At least back home you won’t have to see Christina any more.”

“Thank fuck for that. I am looking forward to getting back into my routine at home. Back in my office and chair.”

“So, what movie are you going to watch for your last night in Florida?”

“Do you know, I have been itching to watch Rocketman again.”

“Again?”

“It’s a beautiful movie and come on, it’s the music of Elton John.” Robyn moved in closer to the fridge to make some room as two men walked past her down through the aisle, pushing her basket in with her foot.

“Oh, and nothing to do with a certain leading male, yeah?”

“Shut up Claire.”

“Shut up Claire,” mimicked her friend.

“You know I went to see that movie because of Elton John and his music not because of the male lead and it also happened to be released on my birthday so it was my birthday treat.”

“Yeah alright, but how many movies of Taron’s did you watch after? Hmmm?”

“Ah here, Eddie the Eagle is cute and so endearing and it has Hugh Jackman in it and you know I love him and have done since his Oklahoma days and…”

“… and you also watched Robin Hood and Kingsman and…”

“And I have to go Claire!” Robyn grinned into the phone. “This junk will not buy itself and I need to find those damn turtles.”

“Ro come on!”

“I will text you this evening Claire and I will see you on Sunday.”

“But Ro…”

“I love you, you tosspot!”

“Ugh hate you.”

“Bye Claire.”

“Have fun with your turtles and Taron!”

Robyn laughed as she ended the call, knowing there would be a text message within the next thirty seconds from her best friend from home, calling her out for hanging up on her. As much as she enjoyed the last six months of her life and the experiences it brought, good and bad, she could not wait to get back home to real green grass, rain and some cold weather, her crazy best friend and her own bed in her apartment. Florida had been enlightening and enjoyable but Ireland was home.

Finally finding the red packets of turtles near the cash registers, Robyn picked up five packets and threw them in her basket, before waiting in line to be checked out.

#taron egerton #taron egerton fanfiction #ricahrd maden #love and friendship #angst #fluff #swearing #minor violence #blood and injuries #love fanfiction

[princess-of-luxure]

Masquerade [1]

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You moved to the capital city, Altadellys, in search of job opportunities. You had anticipated several significant changes in your life, but nothing could have prepared you for almost getting robbed in an alley, only to be saved by a mysterious masked vigilante. Their mysterious appearance throws your life into chaos, and you soon find yourself swept up in the high-stakes underground operations of a group of... supervillains?!

You didn't ask for any of this, but there's just as much excitement amongst the potentially lethal drama. As secrets hundreds of years olds begin to unfold before you, can you be the missing link in solving a dangerous mystery, or will you bring everything to ruin?

Fandom: Reigning Passions (Visual Novel) Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Relationships: Gen (so far) Characters: Lyris (Reigning Passions), Main Character (Reigning Passions), Amara (Reigning Passions), Piama (Reigning Passions), Hazel (Reigning Passions) Content Warnings: Attempted Robbery, Knives

Welcome to Masquerade! This is a reader-interactive story putting the characters of Reigning Passions into the setting of Villainous Nights. There will be choices for you guys, as the audience, to vote on, which can influence the direction of the story's plot (including the potential deaths of characters!) and also can influence who gets together with who. It's assumed that everyone is poly so don't worry if MC doesn't get together with your favourite LI - you've still got a shot! Plus, any characters with compatible sexualities can get together if you nudge them in that direction, so if you're a fan of, say, Amara and Xenia? Depending on the choices made, they can totally get together.

This is cross-posted on my AO3, which you can find here! You can cast your vote in the comment section there, or send me an ask/DM me here on tumblr! You can also vote in the replies of the appropriate tumblr post for each chapter.

Chapter below the read more.

Altadellys, you were finding, was bigger than you had ever imagined. Prior to moving to the capital city of Lysende, you had lived in a small town so remote it didn’t even have a name. Everybody knew everybody in your little community, but looking around the big city, you only saw the faces of strangers, not a single one sparing you a glance as they rushed to where they were going.

It was also far warmer in Altadellys than in your hometown, you noted as you shucked off your coat and tied it around your waist. The climate where you’d come from was so frigid that it was practically winter year-round, and you were eager to learn what a true spring or fall felt like, let alone a true summer.

“Alright, all you’ve gotta do is make it to Hazel’s place, and then she’ll walk you to your apartment,” you muttered to yourself, fishing around blindly in your bag. “She said it’s near Central Park, which shouldn’t be too hard to find, just follow the map.” Your fingers closed around the object you were looking for, and you pulled out your phone, attitude bright and chipper. “You’ve got this!”

These turned out to be famous last words, as you went to turn on your phone and found that the battery had died on the car ride here. “Shit,” you muttered, because, well, it was an appropriate word for the situation. Chewing your lip, you tossed your phone back into your bag and glanced around. To a local, you were sure finding Central Park would be no problem, but you weren’t a local.

Wait, a local! That’s it! Approaching a man in his late twenties walking a dog, you gave your friendliest smile. “Excuse me, could you—”

“Get lost, lady,” the man growled, and you flinched, drawing back. No one in your hometown behaved so aggressively, their voices dripping with venom as they bared their teeth in a snarl.

Swallowing your fear, you clutched onto the strap of your bag, trying to appear more confident than you felt. Maybe you had just gotten off on the wrong foot. “Sorry to disturb you, I just wanted to ask—”

“Didn’t you hear me?” The man jabbed a finger at you, and you stumbled back a few paces, squeaking. “I said, get. Lost.”

You hid your burning cheeks and frightened expression in the curtain of your hair, mumbling out apology after apology. After several minutes of this, you realized the man had left and was nowhere to be seen, so you lifted your head and took another look around. Every intersection was plastered with signs, but none of them seemed to point towards Central Park, and given your last interaction, the idea of asking a local suddenly seemed a lot less viable.

You fiddled with your hair as you took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. Rather than being a beautiful new wonder, Altadellys now just seemed like a living nightmare. “It’s okay, you’ve got this,” you mumbled, your half-assed attempt at a pep talk doing little to restore your confidence. “It’s a big park in the middle of the city. If you just keep walking, you’re sure to find it eventually.”

After what felt like an hour of walking with no change in scenery, your faith in that assumption was beginning to waver. You wrestled with your steadily increasing anxiety as you stopped at the corner of an intersection. Warmth and mouth-watering scents seeped out from underneath the door of the cafe you were stood by, and your stomach rumbled as you found yourself wishing you were inside. God, what I wouldn’t give to be sharing a cup of coffee with Hazel right now.

“Hey there little girl, are you lost?” You nearly jumped out of your skin as you whirled to face the person who had spoken. Most of their face was obscured by their black hoodie, but you could still make out the leer that painted itself across their features.

You swallowed, taking a step back. The stranger took a step forward, and as you continued to try and put space between the two of you, you became hyper aware that they were backing you into a dark alley, out of sight from the rest of the world. “U-Um, no, not lost at all! Just… enjoying the scenery!” Why did my phone have to die now?!

“The scenery, huh?” You were pressed up against a wall now, the stranger’s hand pinning you up against the stone. You could hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears, your breathing verging on hyperventilation as you stared up at your assailant with wide eyes. “It would be a shame if that was cut short.”

Those last words were a whisper, as cold and smooth as the metal blade now pressed against your throat. You couldn’t even squeak, fear stealing the sound from your lungs. You began praying to every deity you could think of, even ones you weren’t even sure were actually from real pantheons, anything to get out of this mess.

“Robbing pretty girls in dark alleys?” A new voice made your heart jump—whether it was in relief or further fear, you didn’t know. It evidently startled your attacker just as much, the surprised flinch of their hand just barely nicking your skin. A single bead of blood welled to the surface, but you didn’t have time to process it before your assailant was being pulled away from you. You remained frozen in place, too shaken to fully comprehend what was unfolding before you.

When you finally came out of your shock, the first thing that occurred to you was holy hell was your savior attractive. His face was partially obscured by a blue-green mask, trimmed with gold and decorated with what were, as far as you could tell, real peacock feathers, but you could still see the steely glint in his mismatched eyes. One was purple, the other gold, and you would’ve probably wondered how in the world he got lucky enough to end up with that genetic combination if you weren’t so busy taking in the rest of him. He was certainly a striking figure, with long golden-brown and green hair, a simple but somehow still shockingly elegant suit to match his mask, and fingerless gloves revealing blue and pink nails (toxic masculinity who?).

All of this paled in comparison to the wings that emerged from the slit on the back of his suit. The shining green plumage made him look like some kind of majestic angel, or bird. Actually, considering the look of his mask, you were pretty sure he was going for the latter.

Your savior said something to the would-be robber that you didn’t quite catch, still feeling in a somewhat faraway daze. Whatever it was, it sent them running, the masked vigilante folding his arms and watching them go with a look of utmost contempt. When they disappeared from sight, he turned to you, approaching with slow, gentle footsteps, the concerned look in his eyes at odds with the easy smile that curled his lips.

“That was a pretty nasty experience. I wouldn’t want to be in your position,” he commented, his tone casual as though he was discussing the weather, and not the fact he’d probably just saved your life. His expression shifted as he came to pause in front of you, gaze flickering to your neck. “Are you okay?”

Numbly, you placed two fingers to where you’d been cut. They came away wet with blood, but even so, you could tell that the injury was shallow—you’d gotten incredibly lucky. “I’ll—I’ll be fine. It’s not serious.” Your voice quavered, barely able to force the words out.

Your savior didn’t seem entirely convinced. “May I see anyway?” he requested, and moving on autopilot, you tilted your head to show him the cut. He stepped closer, fingers brushing against your throat as he inspected your injury, and you tried to ignore how the simple contact sent shivers down your spine. After a moment that lasted both eternity and no time at all, he drew back, humming in satisfaction. “You’re right. It’s not that bad, you’ll survive.” Apparently content with your health, you saw a teasing gleam enter his gaze. “I’d do more, but my power isn’t exactly to do with healing.” He fluttered his wings once to prove his point, and that’s when the reality of the situation came crashing down onto you.

“Your power. You have powers.” The words came out in a breathless rush, and you were completely helpless to stop them. You clapped your hands to your mouth, but too late; you felt the heat rising to your cheeks already. Leave it to you to make an absolute fool of yourself in front of an attractive guy.

He didn’t seem to mind though, evidently amused as he folded his arms, shifting his weight to one leg. “Well, I sure hope so. If I didn’t, my entire life would be a lie.” With the danger gone, he bantered with you in the way one might banter with a best friend, nevermind that you’d never seen him before.

You had enough grace to not try to continue that thread of conversation. “What’s your name?” you blurted out, and as your question processed, you felt your blush darken. You know what? No more talking without permission from my brain, mouth.

Your savior chuckled, pulling you out of your flustered thoughts. “My name is a secret I’m going to take to my grave,” he replied, and yeah, fair. What else were you expecting? “However…” He leaned forward to whisper in your ear, close enough that you could feel his breath tickle your neck. “You may call me Peacock.”

In a single breath, he had drawn back, leaving you struggling to collect your scattered thoughts and calm your racing heartbeat. First things first. His alias was Peacock—unsurprisingly so, given his general aesthetic and the prideful smirk that curled his lips. He was evidently playing things up for the drama, and you couldn’t honestly say you minded.

“I’m…” You took a deep breath to try and scrape together at least some of your composure. Once you felt like you weren’t about to faint from the situation, you finally offered Peacock your name.

He repeated your name back to you, humming in curiosity as you nodded. “A lovely name indeed,” he complimented, and you felt your cheeks burn. So much for composure, but then again, he probably said that to all the girls he rescued. Seeing the intensity of his gaze, though, you weren’t so sure.

You almost missed when he started speaking again, too wrapped up in your flustered thoughts. “...you going, little lady?”

You were going to have to ask the pretty peacock vigilante to repeat himself. God, today just wasn’t your day, wasn’t it? “Sorry, could you repeat that?” you mumbled, burying your face in your hair and doing anything not to look Peacock in the eye. Even if he had very beautiful eyes. Goddammit, you were too bi for this.

Peacock laughed, the sound just as charming as everything else about him. Fuck. “I know I’m handsome, but you shouldn’t let yourself get distracted,” he reprimanded lightly, a teasing smile quirking his lips, and yup, you were going to die. You may as well just go dig a hole and lay down in it. “I asked where you were going.”

Okay, focus. If you manage to screw this up you may as well move back to your town because your pride will be completely gone. “Central Park,” you replied, finally lifting your face from your curtain of hair and clutching the strap of your bag. “I’m supposed to meet my friend at her place, but my phone died, but her house is near there so I thought if I just found my way there…”

You trailed off as you saw Peacock already shaking his head. “Altadellys is a big city,” he explained. “Bigger than you think. I could direct you to Central Park, but you’d still get lost trying to find your way to your friend’s place, and I can’t always be around to save you.” He paused, but before you had time to begin to panic, he was already asking another question. “Do you know where you’re staying?”

“Yes!” You turned your eyes to the sky, eyebrows creasing as you tried to remember the name of the building. “Spring Apartments.”

You’re sure you didn’t imagine the shock that briefly flickered across what you can see of Peacock’s expression, the way he was caught off guard if only for a moment. “Spring Apartments? You’re sure?”

You cocked your head to the side, uncertain as to what about your place of residence would elicit this kind of reaction. “Yes? Is there a problem with that?”

If Peacock’s gaze on you had been intense before, it didn’t come close to comparing to now. You had to fight the urge to hide yourself away from his scrutiny, unable to help but feel like he was committing every detail of your visage to memory. “Not at all.” His easy smile was back as quickly as it had vanished, leaving you feeling out of the loop. “I can take you there.”

“That would be nice, thank you—” You paused, blinking owlishly as his words fully processed. “Wait. Take me there?”

“Let’s just say that helping you will help me as well,” Peacock replied cryptically, as if that clarified things at all. Still, it was hard to be frustrated at his vagueness as long as that unbearably attractive smile remained. “Of course, that’s only if you’re okay with it.”

“I’m okay with it, but how—ah!” Your words dissolved into a yelp as you found yourself unexpectedly scooped into Peacock’s arms. His almost ethereal nature belied how strong he truly was, you realized as he held you securely against his chest, hoping desperately that he couldn’t hear the thudding of your heart. That really would be the icing on your embarrassed cake; the final nail in your flustered coffin.

“Sorry,” Peacock apologized, and this close to him, you could feel the rise and fall of his chest, his warm breath tickling your neck with each exhale. “I’ve never been one to walk in the front door.”

You didn’t have time to even begin to process that before Peacock took to the air. You let out a decidedly undignified shriek, burying your face against his suit and clinging to him like your life depended on it (which it technically did, but you were trying not to think about that).

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” Peacock murmured, and between his soft voice and assured grip, you realized he wasn’t saying that just to comfort you. You really were safe in his arms, even as buildings and people blurred past beneath you. It was a surreal feeling, to be truthful, but one that once you got used to it, you couldn’t honestly say you minded.

It was over all too quickly, Peacock placing you down on the roof of the apartment building within minutes. “This is where I leave you,” he explained, flashing you another one of those damned smiles. “I trust you can handle things from here?”

“Well, unless the apartment building is as difficult to navigate as the rest of Altadellys, I should be fine,” you replied, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Pride swelled within your chest as Peacock laughed at your joke.

“You’re quite the witty one, aren’t you? I like that,” he complimented, winking, and by some miracle you didn’t fall over then and there. “Keep me in mind? Who knows, maybe we’ll meet again.” He leaned forward slightly, and you stared up at him. Wow, his eyes are even more enchanting up close…

Your name fell from his lips, and this time you nearly did fall over. For a second, you wondered if he was going to kiss you, but instead he took a step back, leaving your heart thudding and your chest filled with a strange sense of disappointment.

There was silence for a brief second, before you took a deep breath. “Thank you for saving me,” you murmured, figuring you at least owed him that.

Peacock paused, tilting his head as he regarded you, a smile curling across his lips. It was different to the others, somehow—more real. “The pleasure was all mine, my lady,” he replied, giving a mock bow before walking to the edge of the roof. Before you could get another word in, he spread his wings and jumped, disappearing before you had a chance to call after him.

It took a minute to recover from the excitement you had just experienced, but you made your way inside from the roof stairwell, finding your apartment with blessed ease. I deserve this much mercy after the day I’ve had, you mused as you knocked on the door.

The door opened quickly, revealing a small and delicate-looking woman. Her most striking feature was the floral tattoos that swirled across her whole body, though the gorgeous flowers pinned in her white, yellow-tipped hair came a close second. Her white and pale yellow dress was deceptively simple, the flowers stitched into the opaque overskirt being the most complicated detail of the design.

“Hey.” You introduced yourself, putting on your friendliest smile. “Is this your apartment? If so, I’m your new roommate.”

“That’s today?” The woman huffed slightly, glancing around. “Damn it, Lyris…” She muttered a bit more to herself, leaving you feeling more and more confused, before she finally addressed you. “Oh, but where are my manners? I’m Piama.”

She extended a hand for you to shake, and you reached down to take it. “Nice to meet you, Piama,” you offered, uncertain what to make of your new roommate.

Piama cast an appraising eye over you. “You aren’t from around here, are you?”

You blushed, not exactly embarrassed but still shy about being so easily placed by a beautiful woman. “Yeah. My hometown’s pretty far away.”

“That much speaks for itself.” Piama pressed her lips together, resting her chin on her hand as she considered you. “Your clothes are so last season, we’re going to have to do something about that.”

You had no idea how to respond to that. Initially, her words came off as rude, but the context implied she was only trying to help. “Um.”

Before you had a chance to come up with a more intelligent response, there was a melodic chime from Piama’s pocket. Pulling out a phone that looked more expensive that all your past phones put together, Piama scanned what was presumably a text before letting out a huff. “About time!” she complained as her fingers flashed across the screen. “I was supposed to go out with Lyris an hour ago! I called him four times and texted him like, fifty, and he just got back to me!” Putting her phone back away, she rolled her eyes. “This has been happening more and more lately. I’m starting to think he’s gotten a partner and hasn’t told me about it.”

Despite yourself, you couldn’t help a small laugh. “Well, don’t let me keep you. I can settle in by myself.”

Piama let out a relieved sigh. “Thank God. Lyris and I have been planning this for weeks, and I would die if I waited a second longer.” She paused, looking like a realization had just struck her. “Not that I’m trying to get rid of you, of course. You seem like a lovely girl, it just seems impossible to spend any quality time with him lately.”

You waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it, no offense taken.”

Piama flashed you a small smile, wishing you a quick goodbye before sweeping past you. You wasted no time entering the apartment, quickly finding an outlet to plug your phone into. With that done, you fixed yourself a cup of coffee before flopping on the couch, sighing deeply as you finally began to process the day’s events.

You’d arrived in Altadellys, only to find your phone was dead. Asking a local for directions had proven useless, and soon after that, you had gotten yourself hopelessly lost. You’d nearly been robbed in an alley, only to be saved by an attractive masked vigilante calling himself Peacock. He’d taken you to your new residence and then disappeared. You’d found your apartment and met your roommate, an extremely pretty woman named Piama, and had a brief conversation with her before she’d had to leave. Now, you were here, relaxing in your new home while waiting for your phone to charge.

A distinctive chime alerted you to the fact your phone was now alive again. Carefully grabbing it, you switched it on, seeing that you had five unread texts from Hazel. You wasted no time in unlocking your phone and swiping over to your messenger, finding that the first of the texts was from around two hours ago.

Hazel: Hey did you make it to the city safely?

The next message was about half an hour later, around about when your phone had died.

Hazel: Freckles?

Hazel: You’re starting to worry me

The next two messages were from around half an hour ago, and you can tell Hazel’s increasing worry from the fact they were typed with perfect grammar.

Hazel: Okay, this is totally weird for you.

Hazel: If you don’t message me within the next hour, I’m calling the police.

Guilt and affection mingled in your gut. Guilt that you’d made her worry so much, and affection over the fact that she cared that much for you. Placing your mug down, you quickly typed out a reply.

You: I’m fine Hazey dw

You: My phone died on the way here

Hazel’s response was immediate, and you wondered if she’d been waiting for your message for the past half hour or so.

Hazel: Holy hell don’t scare me like that Freckles

Hazel: Ppl are saying crime rates in Altadellys are higher than they’ve ever been

Hazel: I was worried you’d gotten murdered or smthin

You couldn’t fight back a chuckle, smiling as you responded.

You: Not dead yet, amazingly

You: I’m at my apartment now but getting here was a nightmare

You hesitated as you went to type your next message. You definitely wanted to tell Hazel about your encounter with the mysterious Peacock, but would she believe you? ...of course she would, she was your best friend! She’d definitely heard far weirder stories from you.

You: Hey I’ve got a kinda crazy story to tell you

Hazel: [eyes emoji] [eyes emoji] [eyes emoji] 

Hazel: You know crazy’s my middle name hmu

You: It might be too much to put in a text

Hazel: Np we can meet up in person

Hazel: I’ve been dying to see u again anyway it’s been way too long

You: Agreed

You: Text me your address and I’ll be there ASAP

Plugging the address Hazel sent you into your GPS app, you discovered that her place was only a ten-minute walk away. That was a small miracle; you didn’t feel like tangling with a taxi right now. Draining the rest of your coffee, you got up to place your cup into the sink and write a note for Piama explaining where you were going. Once your phone had charged enough to the point where it wouldn’t die again while you were out, you grabbed your bag and made your way out of the building.

Finding Hazel’s house proved to be blessedly simple now that you had directions, and soon you found yourself standing in front of it. It was modest only in comparison to the other houses along the street, one story with a moderate backyard rather than two stories at least with sprawling acres of land.

“Looks like just the kind of place Hazel would love,” you mused to yourself as you moved to ring the doorbell. As you waited, you noticed that the door also had a knocker in the shape of a lioness’ maw. Interesting—had it been there before Hazel moved in? You couldn’t imagine why she’d have both a doorbell and a knocker.

The door opened shortly, a wide grin breaking across Hazel’s face. “Freckles! It’s so good to see you again!” She wasted no time pulling you into a giant bear hug that nearly crushed your bones.

“Good to see you too, Hazey,” you gasped, hugging her back as best you could. “Uh, you’re kinda crushing me.”

“Whoops.” Hazel quickly let go of you, though she didn’t move back far. “Sorry. Kinda forget my own strength sometimes.”

You smiled, but before you could respond, a new figure appearing over Hazel’s shoulder stole your attention. Blonde hair spilled over her shoulders in waves, her golden eyes shining with a gentle warmth. She wore a simple red and white tunic that looked like it could have dated back to medieval times (and here you thought your fashion was out of date). “Hazel, who’s this?”

“Oh, this is my best friend from my hometown!” Hazel quickly introduced you to the unknown woman and—holy mother of God she was ripped. Lean muscles rippled beneath her clothes, and you were so distracted staring you nearly didn’t catch Hazel adding, “And this is Amara; she recently moved in with me.”

Callout to myself: too bi to function. You tried to push down the thoughts of how attractive Amara was to extend a hand for her to shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Amara.”

Amara accepted your proffered handshake, her grip deceptively light. “You as well. Hazel has spoken highly of you.”

You felt your cheeks turn red as Hazel laughed. “‘Course I have! Gotta make sure everyone knows how amazing my best friend is.”

“Hazel!” you exclaimed, trying desperately to cover your darkening blush. First Peacock, then Piama, and now Amara. Were you the protagonist of a romance visual novel or something? If you met one more attractive person you were going to die—which was a problem because Altadellys seemed to be full of them.

“Hey, you never know, Amara might find you just as amazing.” Hazel winked conspiratorially and yup, this was how you died. There was no way Amara wouldn’t notice the obvious wingwomaning—

“Well, I wouldn’t know, but any friend of Hazel’s is a friend of mine.” —or not. Was Amara seriously oblivious to your evident fluster and Hazel’s teasing? Whatever, you would take what you could get. Your poor bi heart still hadn’t recovered from your earlier encounter with Peacock, anyway.

You took a deep breath, praying your voice wouldn’t wobble. “Likewise,” you agreed, shifting your weight awkwardly and flicking your gaze to Hazel. “Also uh, Hazey? Can I come inside or am I going to be standing on your front porch for this entire conversation?”

“Is something wrong with my porch?” Hazel teased. Amara’s brow creased with concern and she quickly added, “I’m joking, Amara, don’t worry. We’ve teased each like this since we were kids.” She stepped back from the door and disappeared into the corridor, calling behind her, “I’m gonna make drinks. You two get to know each other!”

Amara offered you a polite smile. “I apologize for this. Hazel is a dear friend of mine, but I remain bemused by her antics.”

She really was oblivious to Hazel’s wingwomaning. You weren’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth though, chuckling nervously. “Yeah, she’s always been something of an enigma, but you know how best friends are.”

Amara didn’t respond, and you began to worry you’d said something wrong by the completely blank look on her face. “Amara?”

Amara shook herself, her expression taking on the polite, friendly smile again. It didn’t reach her eyes, and you couldn’t help but feel you’d touched on a sensitive subject, though you had no idea what it was. “My apologies, I was lost in thought. Allow me to show you to the living room.”

As you followed Amara, you couldn’t help but note she carried herself with the posture of a soldier, complete with the famous Murder Walk™ that tumblr loved to talk about. That sent alarm bells ringing in your head and your heart panging with concern—what had happened to her to cause her to always be on her guard?

You knew better than to ask, settling into the cushions of one of the simple white couches in the living room. Amara sat across from you, studying you with a curious expression. “You are not from Altadellys?”

Somehow, the question made you feel less self-conscious than when Piama had commented on it earlier. “Yeah, I’m from Hazel’s hometown. What about you?”

“I’m not from Altadellys either,” Amara replied, confirming a growing suspicion. “I moved here many years ago.”

“Didn’t exactly embrace the lifestyle?” you guessed, gesturing to her clothes and praying your inquiry wouldn’t be considered rude.

To your relief, a genuine smile lit up Amara’s features, a soft glimmer in her eyes. “Not exactly,” she agreed. “I have never been able to immerse myself in the glitz and glam of the city, though I have nothing against those who do.”

“My roommate’s the complete opposite of you,” you mused, trying to latch onto this thread of conversation. “She’s stunningly beautiful, but in a way I feel like I’ll never compare to, you know?”

Amara considered you thoughtfully. “Sometimes simpler is better,” she remarked. “If it is of any comfort to you, I think you look wonderful just the way you are.”

You were saved from spontaneous combustion by Hazel reappearing, carefully holding three mugs full of hot, steaming liquid. If it were anyone else, you might’ve been worried about her spilling or dropping them, but you had complete faith in Hazel. “Coffee for me and Freckles, and tea for Amara!” she hummed, placing down two of the mugs before flopping onto the couch next to you.

“Thank you, Hazel,” Amara responded politely, carefully picking up her drink, blowing on it gently before taking a sip. You echoed the sentiment, retrieving your coffee and nursing it as your thoughts wandered in the direction of gay again.

“So Freckles,” Hazel interrupted, and you nearly spilled your drink as you were jolted out of your thoughts. “You said you had a crazy story to tell?”

“Oh! Yeah, I did, but…” Your gaze flickered hesitantly to Amara.

She caught the look and smiled, gesturing for you to continue. “I assure you, I have heard many extraordinary stories in my time. I promise I will not judge.”

Amara was so open and kind that you found yourself believing her without a second thought. You nodded and took a deep breath. “So like I said in my texts, my phone died getting here. I thought I’d just go to Central Park and find this place from here, but I uh…” You rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly, averting your eyes. “I kinda got lost.”

“Understandably so,” Amara said, and you glanced over at her, surprised at her input. “Altadellys is a city of enormous proportions. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, things could’ve gone seriously wrong,” Hazel agreed, concern painted across her features. “Seems like you hear about more and more robberies and people going missing everyday.”

You figured that was as good of a leadup to the ‘crazy’ part of your story as you were going to get. “I’m alright, but it was a close call. Someone tried to rob me in an alley.” You tilted your head to expose the faint scar on your neck.

“What?!” Hazel gasped. “Did you see what they looked like, Freckles? I’ll give them a piece of my mind for daring to lay a hand on you—”

“You should calm down, Hazel,” Amara interrupted gently, but you could see the concern and fury shining behind her golden eyes. “How did you get away?”

“I was saved by a masked guy with wings. He called himself Peacock,” you explained, scanning the pair’s faces for reactions. Hazel’s eyes were wide, her surprise evident, whereas Amara remained more composed, shock passing over her expression for only a moment before she closed her eyes, presumably lost in thought.

“Peacock, you’re sure?” Hazel checked, before shaking her head. “Who am I kidding, you said he had wings, that can’t be anyone else.”

“Yes?” You couldn’t help but feel surprise of your own at Hazel’s reaction. If she recognized his name—and knew about his powers—then just who was Peacock? “Do you know him?”

“Only by reputation,” Hazel replied. The look of awe on her face almost felt surreal. “After Fox disappeared, he took over as Altadellys’s protector of the night!” She struck a pose, then paused. “Okay, so I’m pretty sure he’s more active during the day, but details.” She chuckled to herself. “Seriously though, you’re super lucky, Freckles. Getting saved by Peacock is almost every girl’s dream at the moment.”

You picked up on the phrasing, unable to help quirking your lips at the subtle quip. “But not you?”

“Nah, I’m too much of a lesbian for that.” Hazel grinned, obviously amused by her own joke, before leaning in. “But what about you? Is he as dreamy as they say?” She waggled her eyebrows.

You knew she was only teasing you, but you couldn’t stop the heat that flooded your cheeks as you thought back to your interaction with the masked vigilante. Visions of those beautiful eyes and that breathtaking smile filled your mind. “Um…”

You were hardly subtle. Hazel caught on immediately, and she burst out laughing. “Oh my God! Freckles, you have a crush!”

“I do not!” you immediately defended yourself, already knowing it fell on deaf ears. “He’s as attractive as they say, okay? But that doesn’t mean I like him!”

Hazel wiped a couple tears from her eyes. “Sure, sure, you keep telling yourself that, Freckles. But man, you had one hell of a first day in Altadellys, didn’t ya?”

You really couldn’t disagree with that, though you were just glad Hazel seemed to have dropped the teasing about your non-existent crush on Peacock. Absently, your gaze slid over to Amara, who had yet to rejoin the conversation. You found her staring off at a black-and-white photo hanging on the wall—looking closely, you were pretty sure it was of her, along with a man you’d never seen before. A family member or best friend? I’d consider that it could be her boyfriend, but I get the idea she’s not into guys. But why is it in black and white?

“Freckles? Were you listening?” You jumped, embarrassed at having been caught zoning out. 

I’m really off my game today. “Uh, not really,” you admitted sheepishly. “Mind repeating that?”

Hazel rolled her eyes affectionately. “I asked how the job search was going.” Her tone was filled with the fond exasperation only a best friend could capture.

“Oh, that.” You sighed, wishing you had better news on that front. “Not well, honestly. None of the places I’ve applied to have even called me in for an interview.”

Hazel winced sympathetically. “Yikes, that sucks. I’d offer to help ya, Freckles, but I don’t think my line of work is exactly for you.” She gave a meaningful look at your less-than-impressive physique and you laughed.

“Probably not, but thanks anyway.” You ran your fingers through your hair, thinking. “It’s a problem, though. Rent isn’t cheap here—I’ll get kicked out pretty fast if I don’t find a job soon.”

Hazel gave a thoughtful hum. “Well, why don’t you apply for an internship at Optimus? Seems like your kind of place.”

“Optimus? Are you sure?” Amara’s sudden interruption startled you, and you glanced over at her. Her expression was completely closed off, betraying nothing about how she felt. You had to fight the urge to swallow, somehow feeling like you’d just stepped into a social minefield.

“I don’t really know anything about Optimus,” you confessed hesitantly. “Should I?”

“They’re the world’s foremost authority on powers,” Amara explained, still completely neutral. “They help connect people with places that need their powers the most.”

“They donate to a bunch of charities too, and help with a bunch of other stuff,” Hazel added. “It’s like, the dream job for everyone living in Altadellys, and the pay’s incredible.”

You exhaled softly, considering your options. Hazel was right—it did sound like a dream job. You’d been interested in powers since you were little, always wishing you’d been one of the lucky ones, but nobody with powers had been born in your hometown for generations. “That does sound amazing Hazey, but there’s no way I’m qualified for that sort of thing.”

“If it’s just an internship, I have a friend who may be able to help.” You gave Amara a curious look. “I can let him know. He’s a private man, but he’s reliable.”

You were burning with questions you wanted to ask about Amara’s friend, but given that she still had that blank look on her face, completely devoid of any emotion at all, you didn’t want to push your luck and risk her rescinding the offer. “I guess it’s worth a shot. Thanks, Amara.”

She nodded in acknowledgment, but gave no other response. Suddenly, Hazel gasped, bolting to her feet. “Oh shoot, I totally forgot! I was supposed to meet with a client like, ten minutes ago!” She turned to you apologetically. “Sorry Freckles, I gotta run. If you want, though, we can meet up in like an hour or so? There’s a cafe right around the block, Sweet Enchantments, it’s the best cafe this side of Altadellys.”

You chuckled, unable to pass up the prospect of hanging out with Hazel again after all these years. “Sure thing Hazey, sounds great.”

“Awesome, catch you later!” Hazel darted from the room. Amara stood as well, brushing off her clothes.

“I’m afraid I have places to be as well,” she apologized, and even though it didn’t compare to earlier, you were relieved to see a hint of genuine regret in her eyes. “Before I leave, however, perhaps we should exchange phone numbers.”

“Oh!” You were going to get a pretty woman’s phone number. Yeah, this was a first. “That’s probably a good idea, yeah.”

Amara didn’t stick around long after giving you her number, and you headed back to your apartment, feeling awkward hanging around Hazel’s house while neither of its occupants were home. To your surprise, you found Piama perched on the couch, deeply engrossed in some kind of nature documentary and sipping at a cup of tea.

“Hi Piama,” you greeted, gaining her attention. “Weren’t you hanging out with Lyris?”

Piama waved a dismissive hand. “We just went out to a nearby cafe,” she explained, and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was the same one Hazel had mentioned. “Besides, he needs to get his stuff out of your room.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Piama sighed, as though the reason Lyris’s stuff was apparently in your room was of great disdain to her. “He’s been half-living here for years,” she replied, turning her attention back to the TV. “He would have moved in, but he has a cat, and if his fur ball wasn’t the most annoying creature on that planet, I might’ve considered putting up with my allergies for him, but as it is, ‘Madame Whiskers’ has it out for me. Of course, I’m not going to ask my best friend to give up his cat for me, so now he lives on the floor above me while dumping half his stuff here.”

“Piama, who are you talking to? Is your roommate home?” a very familiar voice called from the hallway. You couldn’t quite place it until he stepped into the living room, and your jaw dropped as realization dawned on you. You wasted no time in appraising his physical appearance; his hair, his build, his general aesthetic, even his nails—everything matched up to Peacock. Even so, you might’ve chalked it up to a coincidence if not for his eyes. His damned eyes. His damned, beautiful eyes. Deep purple and breathtaking gold; even if your mind didn’t recognize them, your heart would’ve.

Peacock—Lyris?—was staring at you just as openly, and you could see the recognition and shock blooming across his expression as well. If Piama replied, you didn’t hear it, too swept up in the feeling of holy shit I’m meeting Peacock as a civilian and he’s my roommate’s best friend.

Your phone chimed, shattering the moment. You coughed to cover the awkwardness, quickly pulling it out and glancing down at the texts you’d just received.

Hazel: Client cancelled [rolling eyes emoji]

Hazel: U still wanna hang out at the cafe tho?

Oh, was all you could think as your fingers hovered over the keyboard, having literally no idea how to reply. Glancing up didn’t help, as you saw Lyris staring at you with the same shocked expression he’d had moments ago, Piama looking between the two of you in confusion.

Oh shit.

CHAPTER CHOICE

You're in a bit of a tricky spot here. You did say you were going to hang out with Hazel, but if you do that, the situation with Lyris is going to get... awkward. To say the least. Do you: A) Commit to going to the cafe with Hazel B) Stay to try and diffuse the situation with Lyris and Piama, and hopefully get some answers

#reigning passions #lovestruck reigning passions #lovestruck voltage #voltage lovestruck #lyris reigning passions #lyris of the spring #piama of the spring #piama reigning passions #amara of the summer #amara reigning passions #hazel reigning passions #masquerade #villainous nights #lovestruck villainous nights #mal writes #villainous nights au

[hodariblue]

a birth day

I don’t have too many words for what it means to make it to this solar revolution/return. But as talking to myself through timespace has been one of my main ways of moving through this experience, here are a few:

I have struggled seeing myself in the future and have often romanticized my own early death because I coped with my trauma through normalization and finding beauty in the most painful of circumstances. It hurt too much to expect something better and be repeatedly disappointed, so why not turn the turmoil into meaningful plot lines in some inspiring coming-of-age film within my head? A film where my death inspires other people to live out their dreams or be kinder to one another - a thought rooted in deep insecurity as well as some over-inflation of my importance. Like what if I died, and that was it?                   I        just          died,          and everything mostly          continued                 exactly         as          it         did                 when I was here.

I am growing and working on unlearning this

Giving myself the space            to feel/fill            possibilities that excite me

Giving myself permission

And as I do this,

every day feels a lot like a miracle.

Like a divine opportunity to learn and experience. To notice new details. Like turning a new page in the coloring book that is my life. I feel this more on some days than others, but I am beginning to internalize this as a foundational truth of my existence. Hopefully.

Maybe feeling death so closely means I get to feel life closely too. 

Hopefully.

And it feels a lot like a miracle. 

Like the clarity of a new glasses prescription, but even that takes time to adjust to. I got so used to seeing things as I did that I didn’t even know it could be better.

Or like giving birth to a baby, but that is also painful, too. From what I’ve heard. And scary. What a grand release of control and also an act of so much power. All at the same time. The bravery in letting go.

I would not be the me that I am today without all of the people and other beings I am privileged to build and remember home with. 

I’m talking bout 

the sweet older Black women I see at Piedmont grocery who greet me with the warmest of smiles                                                                                   and                                                                                  the red hibiscus flowers I see on the corner of 62nd on my morning walk - near the JW church and Bushrod Park                                             and                                                                                      the loved ones who share the biggest of bear hug embraces with me - the ones that have you saying mhmmm so deeply like damn this got my bones feeling held. like all the way down to marrow. like damn i didn’t know i could be snatched like this.

So as I’m here reflecting on my own experience, I can’t help but think of all of my loved ones, too. I love you, deeply. And I am practicing loving you and myself unconditionally. I believe it is one of the most radical things we can do in a system that teaches us to hate each other and ourselves. 

The word “radical” means relating to the root. What if the root of all evil and harm is a lack of love? I know it sounds cheesy. And I know the Bible says the root of all wrongdoing is a love of money. But if money is just a tool to express value then maybe starting with value makes more sense. To get to the root.

“I love you“ 

as in “I value you” 

as in “you are important to me” 

as in “I am so grateful you are here” 

as in “I am in the practice of loving you exactly as you are in your entirety” 

as in “I am here with you, and I don’t always know what’s best, but I’m still here” 

as in “I enjoy yo ass so much and I don’t know how to express that to you in any other way than with this phrase we got, and even that shit ain’t enough”

It’s my first birthday without my dad here in this plane, and it’s tough cus I know he wanted to see me last year, but I was too caught up in my flow and too afraid of him truly seeing me that we didn’t get to be together. We hadn’t been physically together in about 6 years but emotionally even longer with the ways he was moving through his (*our) mental illness.

Wildly enough, I think we are somehow closer now than we’ve ever been. 

I get to be with my mom today. What an honor. After all, it is her birth day, too. And she’s sleeping on some couch cushions in pink silk pajamas with orange ear plugs and a black eye mask in my room right now, and it’s complex because every relationship is, but she is here. With me. 

And that is enough.

Often times the simple things are enough: 

laughing in the car crying to memes - how you’ve been so serious healing your trauma and working on yourself all these years that you forgot what laughter could do in a few minutes, 

biking down telegraph with a loved one on the bike they gave you - seeing the sunshine turn their golden curls even brighter and the way their brown rich skin activates and glows - how light your breath feels in this moment,

tarot table turned pisces-to-pisces check-in about lovers and what it means to be our own lovers on our paths of becoming - remembering we are the greatest romance of our lives,

dancing in the blues and reds of the club losing our hard forms and lines becoming soft silhouettes - sweat, spirit and smiles - ancient movement,

breakfast in the backyard on a leant, white, antique table with lopsided legs and so much to offer, 

running naked into ocean beach under a full moon remembering what felt like your entire life for the first time, 

skating near the Disney center in downtown LA like we owned the streets - like we were frozen out of time - like we were never getting older,

These are the moments I live for. The ones that really help me stay here. The ones that help tip the scales from tragedy and pain to joy and freeness. But it is a scale, and it’s all there at the end of the day. That’s what makes it whole. Both sides. That’s what makes me whole. Both sides.

Imma make a blog this year, since instagram ain’t really a word place, aaannnnd I worry I take up too much space there. It’s my digital inner space though, and people can come and go as they please. There really is no pressure. Anyways, in the spirit of missing out on my queer Tumblr youth endeavors, maybe this will be another dimension of my exploration.

Imma make a book, too. Cus why not?

Imma make an album, too. Cus it sounds fun.

And a movie, too. Cus I already see my life as one.

Soundtrack for this post is Devonté Hynes “Hair”  (feel free to run this scene back with this song playing in the background) (or not - it’s your trip)

Thanks for being here. Cheers to another linear year together. May we continue moving in circles.

Notes: *I say “our” mental illness because I refuse the notion that mental illness and our emotional/spiritual wellness is ever solely individual. We are social interconnected beings, and what my pops had to move through was deeply related to the ills our larger society suffers from. 

#dbreflections writing journalentries braindump flow

[darthrena]

(Your Kisses) Taste like Come what May

Excerpt:

"I promise you will love her.  She's funny, smart, absolutely gorgeous--Just one date is all I am asking."

"What has gotten into you all of a sudden.  Is this girl on the run from ICE or something?"

"Armie asked me to marry him."

Ben felt his world collapsing.  His mild amusement long forgotten under the weight of a thousand unspoken words, missed opportunities, and imagined confessions.

Rose's voice seemed to come from far away.  "Ben?  Aren't you going to say anything?"

Ben swallowed, forced his throat to produce sounds other than screaming, or worse, a sob.  Oddly, when his mouth felt capable of speech, it was a faint rasp, no hint of the tempest which roiled within.  "Congratulations.  You deserve to be happy."

o-o-o-o-o-o

Summary:

Ben, Rose and Hux grew up together.  Ben loves Rose, but Rose and Hux are together.  After Rose and Hux become engaged, Rose tries to set Ben up with her friend Rey.  He reluctantly agrees to go on a date.

In honor of nearing the end of this fic, I’m posting this on tumblr.

Chapter 1

"I promise you will love her.  She's funny, smart, absolutely gorgeous--Just one date is all I am asking."

The setting sun played havoc with Ben's view of the upcoming exit, and he pulled the sun shield with his left hand, letting Rose's chatter wash over him with only half his attention.  As usual, Rose's feet were propped on the dashboard, clad in adorable Ghibli themed socks.  For an offense Ben would have happily removed the feet of any other perpetrator who dared place feet upon his Audi, as was typical where Rose was concerned, Ben merely felt his eyes crinkle in a fond smile.  They were on their way to meet friends at a family style Brazilian restaurant in Framingham for Hux's birthday.  Hux was coming straight from the office to meet them there, while Ben and Rose had attended to picking up wine and the birthday cake before hitting the road.  Unfortunately, the conversation had trended toward Rose's sudden favorite topic over the past week--namely Ben's singleness.

Recognizing that Rose, a veritable force of nature when she put her mind to it, would be unlikely to drop the topic without some kind of response, Ben inquired lightly, "What has gotten into you lately?  Is this girl on the run from ICE or something?"

"Armie asked me to marry him."  Rose gave a deliberate pause.  "Tonight we plan tell everyone."

Ben felt his world collapsing.  His mild amusement long forgotten under the weight of a thousand unspoken words, missed opportunities, and imagined confessions.

Rose's voice seemed to come from far away.  "Ben?  Aren't you going to say anything?"

Ben swallowed, forced his throat to produce sounds other than screaming, or worse, a sob.  Oddly, when his mouth felt capable of speech, it was a faint rasp, no hint of the tempest which roiled within.  "Congratulations.  You deserve to be happy."

"Thank you."  Rose was smiling softly, golden and glowing in the setting sun.  Her shoulder nudged his playfully, but a touch of sorrow lingered beneath the levity and made him clench his fists around the wheel.  "So do you, you know."  Injecting her voice with a determined cheerfulness, Rose continued, "You're my best friend, well you and Armie.  I'll make a big fuss if I don't see you even happier than me.  You won't like it.  Safest thing is to go along with my plans."

"We wouldn't want that," Ben drawled, almost able to imbue his tone with his usual dryness, rather than any of the anguish scrabbling for purchase on the inside.  "And you're so sure that Rey is going to make that happen?"

"You won't know until you meet her."  Rose's eyes crinkled in a mischievous smile, the smile that made him fall in love so many years ago.  "And I won't stop bugging you until you do."

o-o-o-o-o-o

It was just a date.

One date to satisfy Rose, his best friend, the woman he loved, unfortunately, and likely always would, in some way.  One date, and then he could tell Rose that he gave it his best shot, but that they just weren't suited to one another.  Perhaps then Rose would back off and leave Ben to being quite happy alone.

According to Rose, Rey was a third year PhD candidate at MIT, so Ben suggested a restaurant in Cambridge for their date.  While the city wasn't necessarily any less crowded on a Thursday night, Ben hoped that the university-visiting-tourists would at least prefer to find dinner in Boston and he wouldn't be fighting for a parking space all evening.

Approximately 20 minutes before their dinner reservation saw Ben perched on the more artistic-than-comfortable barstool, feeling a bit like an overgrown bird as he sipped from a craft beer.

It had been more than two years since Ben had been on a proper date, and the weight of this inexperience left him feeling unaccountably nervous, despite his intention for the date to not succeed.  Apart from the occasional drink with colleagues or get-together’s with friends of friends which at times had led to taking a woman home, and the "serious" girlfriend he dated in college, Ben had been comfortably single for most of his adult life.  He had never tried Tinder, or any other dating App for that matter.  Although Hux and Rose enjoyed ribbing him for the fact, Ben was just shy of a luddite.  Despite owning a perfunctory cell phone, he used it solely for making phone calls and texting, preferred handwriting his notes and sending the occasional letter to his mother, and his laptop saw little more use than Microsoft word and email, any skills above which Ben deferred to his resigned, 20-something secretary, Kaydel.

"Ben?" A soft, accented voice drew him upward with embarrassing alacrity, so his knees bumped the bar table with a wince-inducing impact.

Shit, she was beautiful.

A kind face, with charmingly arched brows and high cheekbones, only minimally made up in neutral tones, as far as Ben could tell, but for a sensual pinkish red lip.  Rey was dressed simply, but to elegant affect in a moss green sweater dress with a high neckline and bell sleeves, over tall, heeled black boots.  She was taller than Rose, with a small waist he could span with both hands, and modest curves compared to Rose's voluptuous form.  Fuck, stop thinking about Rose.  Her dress seemed to bring out the specks of bright green from her hazel eyes, currently crinkled under his inspection.

"Hi," he heard himself reply, hand fortunately outstretched in the normal human greeting.  "I'm Ben.  Well I guess you already knew that."  Smooth.

Rey's lips twitched a smile as she accepted the gesture, her hand feeling small and callused within his own.  "It's lovely to meet you, Ben."

o-o-o-o-o-o

Seated at a table cozily situated toward the back of the restaurant, far enough from the bar so that the rumble of voices receded to a pleasant murmur, but not within spitting distance of the restrooms, Ben felt some of his earlier tension relax as they went through the motions of ordering and basic small talk.

After clearing his throat to draw her attention, he ventured, "I heard from Rose you are an engineer.  What is your specialty?"

"Mechanical engineer.  My research is in material science.  I've always liked getting my hands dirty, but my current research is a lovely blend of both practical applications and theory.  That's sort of how Rose and I met years ago.  I was lucky enough to tag along with my undergraduate mentor to a conference she had been giving a talk.  I loved everything about it and was inspired to my current line of research.  Then a couple months back I ran into her at a Society of Women Engineers event in Boston and we hit it off."

Ben raised two brows, suitably impressed.  He had not heard this part of their backstory.  "Wow.  That sounds like a duo's origin story."

There was a twinkle in Rey's hazel eyes as she sipped from her Merlot.  "Or the start of a rom-com."

Not pausing to consider the implications of that statement, Ben countered with a affected pondering look, "You are forgetting about Hux though.  Perhaps it's a romantic tragedy."

"Romantic thriller."

"Are you planning anything nefarious to rid yourself of Hux?"

Rey made a scoffing sound.  "I admit nothing!  Actually, you are an attorney.  Will this conversation be under attorney client privilege?"

Ben made a slight smile, "Not that kind of attorney, I'm afraid."

"What kind are you then?"

"Corporate law.  Mostly contracts and liquidations."  At Rey's polite smile, Ben couldn't help but laugh.  "I can see your eyes glazing over from here."

"Sorry," came Rey's sheepish reply.  "Was it that obvious?"

Ben grinned.  "A little, but I am used to it I suppose."

"So why corporate law then?"

"I come from a family of attorneys actually, my mother, uncle and grandfather.  But since I have never been much of an orator, being a trial attorney wasn't for me.  Corporate law, or at least my work, has a more collaborative aspect, with different parties coming to agreements in an often uncontentious way.  I like coming to resolutions, the satisfaction of problem solving."

Rey met his eyes over the table, a warm smile curving those lovely lips.  "We are not so different in that."

God, she was beautiful.  And charming.  And too good for him.  

Shit, he liked her.

The thought overwhelmed him suddenly.  And with it, an unreasoning panic bubbled through him.

Seized with the irrational desire to put a stop to whatever was happening, Ben broke away from her gaze to focus on an elaborate lighting piece of copper piping and yellow filament bulbs above Rey's head.

"Look, Rey," Ben began, after taking a generous sip of his craft beer, already feeling awkward.  "You seem like a really great person, so I need to be honest with you.  Rose sort of guilted me into this, but I'm not really looking for a relationship right now."

For a moment, a look of devastation crossed her lovely features, before turning quickly into a neutral expression, the change so fast that Ben almost thought he imagined it.  Rey let out a light chuckle, while eyeing her wine glass with a deliberately pondering look.  "Have you noticed that nothing auspicious has ever followed the statement, 'you seem like a really great person'?".   Ignoring the flush that Ben felt heating his neck and ears, Rey met his gaze with a gentle smile.  "It's alright Ben.  My feelings aren't hurt.  A bit disappointed perhaps.  You have feelings for Rose, don't you?"

Ben took a few moments to sip from his beer, as he considered his response.  Strangely, her forthrightness, rather than provoking defensiveness, compelled his own.  "Longer than I should." he found himself admitting softly.  "Disappointed how?"

Rey smiled demurely before taking a small bite of her chicken piccata.  "I was hoping to take you home tonight."

His throat was very dry.  "I see."

This was a bad idea.  Terrible, in light of his earlier realization.

"My car is a block away."

o-o-o-o-o-o

"Oh fuck."

Rey had a lovely speaking voice, one given to laughter and spontaneous song.  He thought so the moment he heard it.  He thought it was even lovelier as a breathy moan, gasping in accompaniment to the obscene squelching of his cock ramming into her unbelievably tight pussy and crooning words that set his blood aflame.  "Baby, that's so good.  Your cock fills me so well."

Ben grunted, feeling himself harden even more at her words, if that was possible, and reached down to get a handful of her lovely tits.  Her nipples were pink, he recalled, dusky and freckled when he removed the sheer black lace bra.  Rey had been wearing matching panties, musky and drenched in slick when he mouthed at her mound, though she had quickly divested them so he could bury his face in her cunt.

"Ben Ben.  G-God I'm close.  Ben, don't stop!"  Rey was babbling in time to his thrusts.

The teal alarm clock and cat figurine above her mantel began to tip precariously as he upped the power of his thrusts, hitting that spot inside her which would bring her to the edge.  She was an exquisite sight--svelte, tanned legs and tawny, freckled back, pert derrière and pink lips above and below, the latter of which currently enraptured him, as he watched his cock disappear within her.  The part of Ben not consumed with Rey clenching around his cock, thought idly that he hoped MIT invested in sound proof walls for graduate housing otherwise her neighbors were getting an earful.

The state of Rey's unfortunate neighbors was soon forgotten when Rey let out a choked scream as her climax descended, her cunt taking a vice-like grip on his cock and setting off his own orgasm.  Waves of pleasure undulated through him, and into Rey in spurts of cum.  Ben was never one to talk during sex, but a hoarse "Fuck," was wrenched from him.  Lost to ecstasy, he ground his hips to her, hands gripping smooth hips in a bruising grasp.

As he came down from his high, Ben pulled himself gingerly from her body, aware that she must be at a uncomfortable position, and found his gaze fixated on her pink pussy lips, swollen and dripping with his spend.  His cock twitched valiantly at the sight.

Rey was shifting on the bed, turning to face him, and it was her lovely tits and even lovelier hazel eyes that filled his vision, along with her lips quirked in amusement.  "See something you like?"

Ben glanced between his dick and her breasts.  "Maybe in thirty minutes."

An inelegant snort met this statement, and then Rey was doubled over in giggles, nose scrunched adorably in a manner which took ten years off her, despite the circumstances.  Ben felt his own expression ease into a grin in the face of such infectious laughter, and could only watch in amused tolerance as she jumped to her feet spritely, pulling on a faded Radiohead t-shirt from off the floor before flashing him a conspiratorial grin.

"My roommate is attending a conference for the next three days, so we have the place to ourselves.  You want to order chicken wings and watch Netflix?"

How could he say no to that?  He promised Rose he would try, after all.

Also posted on AO3

#my fic #reylo fanfic #modern AU #lemons #chapter 1 #it's almost done and I feel title regret

[sketchs-trashcan]

so, it seems like tumblr ate my original post...*sigh* at least this means I can do the same thing but with the entire game now.

Since I ended up with PQ2 early, I wrote down most of everything that happened and decided to put it all together in a guide of some sort. I have a less-spoilery section full of general info and a much more spoilery section that pertains to the labyrinths. The labyrinth parts will be mostly about where to unlock special screenings as well as weakness to some FOEs and the boss of the labyrinth. Keep in mind that this is NOT a full guide and I definitely left some things out and/or vague. This is more like the bare bones of the game. Kinda. idk what to call it.

if you want something a bit more specific and/or want to scream about the game, feel free to message me!

Less spoilery stuff

•don’t play based off of knowledge from PQ, literally almost every shadow has different weaknesses and resistances

•hitting a (fill in the blank)bane lexy with something it’s resistant to can cause it to use holy wrath on a row (heavy damage, all binds) (seems to only be specific ones, i have yet to find a pattern though. i don’t think it started to happen until farther along in the game, which was an aboslute bitch in some cases)

•golden shadows always move first, don’t bother with moves like line guard unless that character is in boost

•FOEs can’t be knocked down

•speaking of knocking things down, you need all enemies to be down before you can do an all-out attack. also, all enemies will go back up after one

•after getting back up, enemies might attack. it’s a bit inconsistent

•you know what else is inconsistent? some of the in-game descriptions and explanations. i’m pretty sure armor smasher or whatever only lasts one turn, not three. also, blue is the weakest color for an FOE, not white. i refuse to believe that a dinosaur is somehow less threatening than a dude in a chicken suit. there’s other problems, but those are the ones i can think of off the top of my head

-i lied. i thought of something else

•in the shop, the “have” section includes anything in storage, while inventory is what you actually have with you. it’s a bit dicier when withdrawing items, i think that counting system’s just fucked

•the huge churros are a bit of a ripoff by the time you can get them unless you want to restore only 30 HP to a row in battle. otherwise, just use normal popcorn (as a side note, i was playing on hard, so my team had to be hella buff to take on the first boss, this could be why i view the churros with distain)

•the hotdogs and large dual dogs, on the other hand, are good. especially the dual dogs, stick to those once you unlock them

•selling FOE bits doesn’t really seem to unlock new items in the shop until later. very disappointing gosh darn it yosuke, stop messing with the game mechanics

•read item descriptions. i went into the first boss battle thinking gutsy fries were the same as revival beads. they are not.

•sacrificing personas doesn’t seem to create special materials anymore

•unison attacks can happen so long as at least one participating member is in the battling party. example: the unison attack with P3P and the other (human) 2nd years can occur even if fuuka is the only one present (she’ll need to be navigating the battle though)

•unison attacks occur at random from what i can tell. they’re very strong, but don’t count on one always popping up when you need one

•follow-up attacks are also random, but much weaker. they at least knock down the shadow that’s still up and gives you the opportunity for an all-out attack, so there’s that

•always take the opportunity for all-out attacks. enemies might recover before the rest of your team can attack and get into boost mode

•some special screenings seem to be unlocked only if you check the shop/box office at specific points in the game. i don’t know if they’re only at specific points or if they can happen after that, too

•wildcards do not all need to be at a specific level to unlock ultimate personas, so don’t feel completely obligated to keep them up to speed with joker (you should still train them a bit though). everyone else needs to be at least level 55 to unlock theirs afterwards

•if two FOEs end up running into you at different times during a battle, the most recent one will kick out the older one (aka you don’t fight both of them at once). which means if you win, the newer one dies, but the older one will still be lurking next to you (this is based off of one special screening where i got cocky and nearly paid the price for it)

-i am currently unconvinced that homonculi or however it’s spelled exist outside of chests. i beat the entire game, beat every FOE, and they still haven’t shown up in the shop

That was long. Oops? Well, next up is the labyrinths, so if you want to find out this stuff on your own, best not go any farther.

More spoilery stuff

Kamoshidaman

•i’m 90% certain that the goba-k more is in a golden chest somewhere in this labyrinth. if not, it was in junessic land

•Noir and Queen do not join until after boss

•P3P does not join until second floor (if I’m remembering correctly, otherwise it’s third)

•when rescuing P3P, take out the original shadow, then beat the shit out of tank with everything you have

•just try to stay alive during inital Kamoshidaman encounter, don’t bother too much with attacking (i don’t know if attacking is required for the battle to end, i tried to attack and quickly got pummeled)

•there’s a shortcut that leads to the stairs between the 2nd and 3rd floor, but you have to fight a battle before you can activate it. the battle is not nice

•Boss: Left is weak to fire, right is weak to electricity, middle is weak to fire once left and right are gone

also, the scene where the thieves make their move is fantastic, make sure to watch it. volume on also makes it better

Junessic Land

-lots of the enemies here have a weakness to psi, some of them have weakness to nuke. change your team accordingly

•you can’t sneak up on the pterodactyl FOEs. even if you sneak up on them. they “sneak up” on you and gain advantage (they’re weak to ice, resistant to curse, and can confuse you, btw) ::edit:: they don’t gain advantage so long as you approach them from the front

-t-rex FOEs only chase you if you walk into their line of sight (they’re weak to nuke and resistant to basically everything else, btw. highly recommend avoiding battle when possible)

•IT minus Yosuke does not join until the second floor

•Yosuke does not join until you rescue one of the herbivores

•dead end in area 1, D4: regain HP and SP

•for a certain special screening, ammonite is located in D3. don’t be a fool like me. avoid the pond until you find all the chests

•electric gates are essentially mean walls. you can walk right up to them, just don’t try to walk through them

•dead end in area 3, B6: unlocks new special screening

•can begin unlocking unison attacks after rescuing Yosuke

•dead end in area 3, E4: allowing Fox and Teddie to eat the fruit causes them to lose HP and gain SP (probably only matters if one of them is in your party, idk)

•dead end in area 4, F6: unlocks new special screening

•Boss: weak to electric, resistant (and eventually null) to wind

-Left back: Weak to psi. Resistant to ice, nuke

-Middle back: Weak to nuke. Resistant to ice, psi

-Right back: Weak to ice. Resistant to psi, nuke

-Based on context clues (those being the boss going from mostly chilling to beating the shit out of me), I’m 99% certain you do NOT want to actually knock out the “boss”, focus on the back line

A.I.G.I.S.

-for the most part, anything robotic has the exact weakness you’d expect it to have

•SEES minus P3 and Aigis join on the first floor

•the stationary FOEs are stupidly easy to defeat if you have electric attacks

•the other FOEs, on the other hand, are not. they will hurt you and some of them chase you through security gates. do not engage, do not pass go, do not collect $200 (unless they’re either blue or white on your map, in which case, go nuts)

•there are three possible tasks you can choose from to open the lab. don’t know about the other two, but power doesn’t involve battling

•Aigis and P3 join on first floor of lab

•dead end in zone 1, C4: unlocks new special screening

•dead end in zone 2, C6: unlocks new special screening

•dead end in zone 2, B5: unlocks new special screening

•southwest corner of small room in lab 1F (corner is in A4): unlocks new special screening

•dead end in lab 2F, B6: unlocks new special screening

•boss: no weakness initially, but weak to everything once hacked first time (it’s still on and can attack though, and the hack is temporary), weak to curse second (haven’t checked everything)

-has an attack that brings everyone to the same amount of hp, using all/line guard is probably a bad idea when it happens depending on everyone’s hp, recommend fuuka as battle nav for healing tide and bringing along someone with mediarama

-seals one attack from each person at random

-uses multiple magic attacks (have found electric, ice, fire, and wind)

-has attacks that can bind magic, strength, or speed

-make sure ALL elements are covered, preferably by more than one skill/person

???

•be very wary if you come across an actual set of stairs, there will be a battle in the next open space/beyond the next door

•some stage lifts have FOEs on them

•gnomes turn every three steps

•mr. bear can potentially change its path when you flip a switch

    -in case you were wondering. they are weak to curse. and they hit really fucking hard (as in, over 200 damage while under the influence of debilitate to a roughly lv 50 aigis in the back row, and she’s resistant to physical attacks. big yikes). but. if you use the combination of debilitate/masukunda/masukukaja/orb of haste. they hit you once in a blue moon. so basically never

•there is a goho-m more in the golden chest in the first act

•dead end in act 1, 4C: new screening

•(just assume the rest of these are dead ends) act 2, 3E: new screening

•act 5, 5E: new screening

•act 6, 7B: new screening

•act 6: 6F: i’m 99% certain this unlocked a special screening but for some reason i wasn’t given a notification

•boss: first off. can i just say. WHAT THE EVERLOVING FUCK IS THAT??? WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?? DISGUSTING!!! EUUURGHHHH!!!!!

-looks like a variety of attacks, including almighty. it depends on where the eye is

-eye is the only part that can actually take damage, the rest seems to be just for boost

-knows mamudo

-eye: immune to everything except physical/almighty

-left arm: weak to wind

-right arm: ?

-head: ? (never figured out these two bc i beat it before i could bother figuring it out)

-real weak point: weak to electric and ice

-later on, if you use any support skill other than your new one (you’ll know which one), the real weak point will bind you again. also happens once everyone is unbound

-side note, normal unbinding items don’t work, unless that was a very unfortunate glitch i had

[REDACTED]

-you have to actually step on switches to use them. that’s really all i’ve got

-wait. there’s a dead end somewhere that unlocks one of the last unison skills. i forgot to write down where though.

-there is also a “treasure spot” somewhere on the last labyrinth floor :) that has :) a special surprise :) have fun :):):):) *screams into the void*

-defeating the FOE that chases you is required to unlock the ultimate weapons. the FOE that mimics you is required to unlock ultimate armor. both things require parts from other FOEs, so go nuts, i guess

-rain leg musha is weak to fire and curse, resistant to nuke. wicked turret is weak to psi, resistant to fire

-there are “reruns” of the bosses you have to beat. they’re easy so long as you exploit their weaknesses. they’re basically the easy version of when you first fought them, no extra gimmicks. i found kamoshidaman in the lower left, dino boy in the bottom right, computer in the upper right, and big ol’ blob in the upper left

ENLIL

-weak to psi and nuke, resistant to electric

MAELSTROM INCARNATE

-ok, this battle was both fun an an absolute bitch (my entire team was level 72 and i was on hard mode, if that give you any context)

-first and foremost, this boss can change its affinity. you can tell what it is based on what attack it’s using. in all cases, it’s null to wind. not sure why

     -weak to ice, resistant to fire (and vice versa)

     -weak to light, resistant to dark (and vice versa)

-the boss can nullify buffs to your party and debuffs to itself. this makes those skills useless overall, but they can at least distract her for a move, which could give you the breather you need

-the boss can bind and afflict ailments

-retake undoes everything that happened in the previous turn (it’s like the turn never happened in the first place), so if the boss is “charging up” and there’s no sword in front, just have everyone guard

-if the sword is in front and it starts glowing in waves? fucking. block.

     -the attack seems to alternate which row it hits, but i beat the boss before i could actually think to look for a pattern

-there will come a point where the boss does an action you haven’t seen previously. see things through to the end (aka don’t turn of the game in a panic)

There’s another battle post-game, but it’s. uh. really. really. REALLY fucking hard. my team was all level 72, i switched to safety mode, and I still died before i could really do anything. the only tip i can give you is that when a new character joins the battle, for the love of all that is good, G U A R D, dammit

#sketch plays persona q2 #persona q2 #persona q2 spoilers