#I have a really bad record with getting distracted and jumping in between projects so I hope it won't affect RBV //sweat sweat//

[yukiicantdraw]

Devlog #2:

I tried testing out customising the main menu of Rebound Valentine :D

I still need to adjust the position of the game title, make the game title move and customise the buttons though-

Also writing-wise, I finished the bullet point concept of the script and moving onto fleshing out the characters to know how they'll interact once I start the script!

so far we got:

Make story skeleton - 100%

flesh out characters & practice coding - 25%

start writing story - 0%

input story into renpy - 0%

make assets and sprites - 0%

add sound effects and music - 0%

test out game a couple of times - 0%

rewrite some stuff - 0%

test the game out again^² - 0%

if everything is working, send out the demo - 0%

the to-do list looks organised on paper but trust me it's not in practice-

[breyito]

Distraction: High School AU

Snippet No.2:

(this one goes before the last one, by a fair amount of time)

Edwin’s been driving Charles insane the whole day. While usually they would exchange mocking looks as Ms. Night lectures them, the older boy has refused to look at him more than necessary. Which, outside their History Class, is zero. 

So, Edwin has been basically ignoring him all morning and Charles’ is at his wit’s end. Yeah, they had tried something a bit different yesterday, but it wasn’t completely new, and if Edwin had any complaints, Charles’ would have usually heard about them by now already.

(No, bad Charles! Not thinking about the pretty bratty boy on his knees while you’re in class.) 

He has been ignoring pretty much everybody, actually. Not answering teachers’ questions and not correcting them either. He’s wearing the black turtleneck that makes him look so fucking posh and polished, even if privately he’s nothing but. 

Fuck, Charles wants to get him alone. Needs to get him alone. 

Finally, finally, the lunch bell rings. Charles, who didn’t even bother taking his things out of his backpack for this class, jumps and catches up to the other boy. 

Simon is already getting to Edwin, a question on his lips. Monty is not far behind him, a worried frown on his too-perfect face.

Vultures, the whole lot of them. Charles thinks viciously. 

“Sorry, mate, I need him for our project.” he says, grabbing Edwin by the wrist and ignoring the soft shocked “Hpmh!” he lets out as he barely manages to catch his bag before being dragged away.

“Charles!” the other boy protests, but quietly. The athlete knows that Edwin is never quiet when he really objects to something, so he ignores it and keeps on going. Besides, there’s no tugging, Ed just lets him guide them to wherever the younger boy wants to go. 

‘Wherever’ turns out to be a supply closet in the music wing, which is always empty at this time (and is where Edwin is supposed to go after lunch anyways, so he can’t complain too much.) 

Charles opens the door and, checking there is enough room, gets them both inside in record time. He gets both their bags and drops them in a corner, ignoring Edwin’s soft protest.

The first thing he does when they’re alone is hug Edwin very strongly. The older boy tenses for a second, before slowly hugging back.

“Shit, you drove me up the wall all morning, babe.” He says into Edwin’s ear.

“I didn’t even speak to you, Charles.” Edwin protests quietly.

“Exactly! You didn’t speak to me, or joked with me or looked at me.” Charles complains, whining. 

Edwin huffs a laugh into the other boy’s shoulders.

“You were doing it on purpose then, ignoring me?” Charles asks teasingly, separating them enough to look at those pretty jewel eyes.

“Of course not.” Edwin says, hoarse, looking down. 

“Are you sure?” the athlete questions, cupping the older boy’s face firmly. “Sure you didn’t want to drive me crazy enough to kidnap you away from your friends and snog you silly?” Charles’ tone loses its playfulness at the memory of Simon and Monty just waiting to get Edwin’s attention all to themselves.

But the older boy shakes his head and looks away. Charles refuses to not have his eyes on him anymore.

“Look at me, darling.” Those wide green eyes take half an eternity to find his own, but that’s okay. “There we go, pretty boy.” 

Anticipating the protest Edwin always has against the term, Charles drowns it between their tongues.

“Mmmh” says Charles against his mouth. “You taste like honey.”

Edwin protests are muffled by Charles’ lips until the older boy pushes him away to liberate his mouth.

“Of course I taste like honey!” he whispers-shouts. “I’ve been downing honey drops by the bag, Charles!” he protests, hoarse.

“Oh?” the athlete hums distractedly, mouthing the edge of Edwin’s chin, following the purple bruises with gusto. “Why?”

“Why-what do you mean why!?” Edwin sounds indignant, despite stretching his head back to leave room for Charles’ explorations. “I have a debate competition tomorrow! With the state you left my throat in-”he bites his lips to shut himself up, but it’s far too late already. Charles obviously heard him, since he’s frozen still for a moment or two. 

Suddenly, Edwin is smashed against the door (which, fortunately for all involved, happens to be of quality and not open from the impact) and kissed with such ferocity that any thoughts he might have had fled his head entirely. His hands anchor themselves in Charles’ hair, even though he really should grasp something else to maintain his balance.

“Yeah?” asks Charles when they break apart, both heaving. “That’s why you were so quiet all day,” he whispers hotly in Edwin's ear “marked you all up from the inside?”

“Charl-” the older boy starts, scandalised. He tries to avoid the athlete’s gaze, to no avail. 

“Fucked you silent for a whole day, huh?” Charles interrupts. “Did it hurt, babe?”

Edwin can do nothing but swallow and remain silent. That is a mistake, since Charles’ gaze homes into the movement of his throat, eyes hungry. Slowly, he lifts one hand from its place on Edwin’s waist and brings it up, until the tips of his fingers are caressing the long, marked stretch of skin. The older boy shivers and swallows again, the phantom sensation of that hand holding him by the neck so firmly replaying in his mind.

“Can you still feel me inside, luv?” Charles’ whispers, like in a trance. His thumb is now tracing the faint bruised corners of Edwin’s mouth. Charles’ looks feverish as he gently puts his thumb in Edwin’s mouth, barely outlining his lower lip from the inside, feeling the fragile moist skin there. The older boy swallows again, and this time he can taste salt and skin and Charles, and that is probably what makes him lose his senses and actually answer.

“...yes.” he says, also in a whisper. Edwin feels himself gain courage and pulls at the hair he has in his hands so that Charles’ eyes lock with his own instead of remaining on his mouth. “As troublesome as it is, I can even say that I miss it.” he finishes, before kissing the pad of Charles’ finger and then his palm, green eyes still firmly on Charles’.

“Fuck.” the athlete curses with all his body, shivering. The just kissed hand grabs Edwin’s face and they kiss again and again, and again.

When they split apart, the older boy smiles at him mischievously. In two seconds, he pushes him gently but firmly, making Charles take two steps back; grabs his backpack and opens the door to then leave and close it.

“Goodbye, Charles.” singsongs Edwin, from the other side, before hurrying away, aware that the lunch hour is almost over. 

“....fuck.” mumbles the athlete, forehead making a thud as it hits the wood.

-----

(Listen, I swear by the life of me, I'm not this horny like, ever. Idk why these two have such a chokehold on me, I usually blush too much to write something this...sexually charged lmao.)

(yes, i added this on a reblog on the first post on accident. i won't delete it cause i'm not sure how. just forget it exists lol. anything i add to this au will be posted individually from now on)

[dreamcatcherjiah]

PART 11

💞Tight Hearts (Idol!Hoseok x Reader)

Plot: The red string of fate was visible when our grandparents were children. They would play around, following the strings from one person to their soulmate and laugh happily when these two people inevitably found each other. It was a reason for happiness. But little by little, people stopped seeing the threads. In bad times, it was dangerous, it was a liability, so people stopped seeing them to protect each other from harm. When I was born, nobody saw them anymore, they just felt their soulmate. Anxiety, happiness, sorrow, love, the hearts of the soulmates are one, feel the same things, but it is almost impossible to find your soulmate, now that the threads cannot be seen.

Tight Hearts Masterlist

Part 11

A/N: I may have gone a bit overboard with this one, but I literally couldn't stop writing! I hope you guys like it! Tell me what you thought? ILY🥺♥️

The boys were practising for their next comeback and they could see how you, from the other side of the room, were desperately trying not to freak out at being allowed in the room while they did. The song was powerful, dark and all-around a fantastic feast for the eyes, or so had you blurted out to Jhope when he asked about your opinion. You had instantly turned absolutely red and went to hide in the furthest corner of the practice room, as far as you could go without feeling discomfort. He thought that was cute.

He went back to his dance, losing himself in the movements, letting go of his thoughts and only moving with the music. The choreography was still in the early stages, the changes in position weren’t as seamless as he would have liked, Tae nearly kicked him while trying to do the one-handed turn, but it was okay since they had time to polish every single thing before January. They moved into the title song, which still was missing some of his rap. He hadn’t been precisely in the right frame of mind to finish his bars but now, nothing was stopping him from taking you into his studio and getting to work. The choreography needed it anyway, there was no link between the first chorus and Yoongi hyung’s part, which made it incredibly difficult to choreograph anything. What they could do, however, was perfect the dance-break, Jin hyung had opted out when given the option and that left them in two groups of three. During his part, Hoseok’s eyes moved on their own accord and focused on your reflection in the mirror. Your embarrassment had completely disappeared from your face, now filled with awe. You followed every move with rap attention, your head bopping with the low base as his body moved and hit every beat. His heart swelled when he felt how pride radiated out of your every pore, reaching him through the bond, energising his soul, endowing his last steps with strength and precision. Now was Jungkookie, Yoongi and Namjoonie’s turn, their turns already flawless; Joonie’s face alight with glee when he managed the turn made you laugh. Yes, he was happy. You made him happy with only your presence but, the appreciation and the support you were giving them, not only because of your being an Army, touched something inside his chest.

When the music stopped, some of them dropped to the floor, almost all of them, save for Namjoon. He skipped his way over to you, screaming euphoric after nailing the choreography for the first time, zero mistakes! He grasped your hands and pull you upright, dancing around the room, jumping and turning, making you laugh in glee. The sound of you laughing made them all stop, no longer catching their breaths, but looking at the tender picture of you and Namjoon. His eyes glancing around at his brothers, Hoseok caught glimpses of Jiminie’s eyes hiding behind crescents when he smiled, Tae and JK laughing in disbelief, how Jin hyung took out his phone to record and winked at him, as if telling him I will send this to you later, don’t worry. Yoongi hyung was simply just looking at him, a deep glint of pride in his eyes and a satisfied smirk breaking through his impassive façade.

Hoseok’s feet took him, without even realising, to where you were standing now, your hip resting against the refreshments table with a huge grin splitting your face. Head devoid of thought he just got closer and closer to you, wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his head on your shoulder. He sensed the second when you registered what he was doing, your body tensing, to relax instantly. Your hand flew to his head, resting there and caressing the short, damp strands of his hair behind his ears.

A chorus of teasing voices surrounded the two of you, Hoseok not paying any attention to the jabs, only focusing on how his muscles had untangled and his agitated breathing had instantly calmed the second he touched you. His rapid heartbeat, he knew, was not due to the straining dance moves he just did. It was you, it was all you, surrounding him. Your scent inadvertently invading his senses, your hand moving from his head to the nape of his neck to finally rest around his shoulders in an all-encompassing hug. His breath now caught in his throat when his traitorous brain told him how the depth of his feelings, so fresh and novel, was reaching a point of no return. He didn’t care. As long as you were this bright presence by his side, he would never regret his feelings for you.

After joining Hoseok and Namjoon in the latter’s studio while they worked on some verses for the title song, you met the rest of the boys and all of you were led in the same cars you arrived at a restaurant to have dinner. The place was deserted as Hoseok led you by the hand to a private dining room where a huge round table was set for eight. The managers just led you in, told some things to Namjoon and Jin and left you to your own devices.

The room was nosy, with a happy Hoseok to your left and Seokjin to your right, your eardrums bursting, but still, you were happy.

“Taehyungie hyung almost ended up hanging up his wet shoes in the company’s bathroom!” Shouted Jungkook, his belly laugh so contagious that even Tae ended up laughing while trying to explain.

“You just hate your shoes Taehyung! Everyone knows it!” You told him, eating some bulgogi from Hoseok’s plate while he was distracted laughing.

“Now, that’s not fair, you have an unfair advantage,” Tae answered, setting his elbows on the table and supporting his weight on them, “you know an awful lot about us and we know practically nothing about you, miss Army,” his teasing remark made you instantly shut up, a blush reaching your ears. Hoseok instantly projected his care toward you, wanting to let you know that Tae didn’t mean it with malice.

Taking a deep breath, you braced yourself, searched for Hoseok’s hand and looked Taehyung straight in the eyes. “What do you guys want to know?”

Mischievous looks transformed the boys’ faces until Jin reined them in and calmed them by saying: “She may know about us, but she doesn’t really know us.”

While the staff came in and set the rest of the plates on the table, silence covered all of you. Seokjin was right. All of you knew it. You being a fan allowed you to know a certain amount of information about them, only the little bits that they chose to display, the little bits they shared. But there were many more sides to their personalities that they had kept close to their hearts. Namjoon wasn’t always the confident leader, his clumsiness too much for him sometimes. Yoongi, the quietest one, had been loud and supportive during rehearsals, running after the maknae line in a sort of catch-me-if-you-can game. They cared for each other in different ways, giving Hoseok a bottle of water as soon as he looked more winded than usual, hugging him from behind when a routine didn’t match his expectations… If anything, getting to know them from this close only made you love them more.

“You can ask me anything you want, it’s only fair. I’ll do my best to answer sincerely,” you smiled up at these men, so different between each other and yet they all had the same surprised look plastered on each of their faces. Hoseok recovered quicker than his brothers and reached you to kiss your cheek. Far from shying away from his show of affection, you smiled up at him, tightened your hold on his hand, and faced the table.

Namjoon was the first one to speak, brows furrowed as he played around with the food on his plate. “Let’s make this fair as you say,” he told you, “for each question from us you answer, we tell you something about us. I’ll start.” He looked around and after seeing six nods, took a deep breath and looked at you in the eye.

“I hate when we get asked questions about our personal lives during interviews about our music. They don’t care about it, they just want what Army can do. And I despise that.” His eyes were alight with sincerity as he opened up about himself, not about RM, but Namjoon. Smiling at him and nodding, you wordlessly thank him and give him the cue to ask you a question. “When did you start feeling pain because of the bond?”

Seeing his question had taken you by surprise, he looked sheepishly at you, waiting for your answer. He had dived right in.

“I was seventeen, maybe around 2011, it was something weird, like a pull behind the ribs. It wasn’t too much of a bother at the beginning, that changed over the years.”

Contemplating your words, the boys kept eating in silence while they mulled over who was going to ask you next.

“I… hate when people get close to us for our fame and use it against us,” said Jin next to you. His face was calm, his words steady. “Did you ever think it wasn’t worth it? Having a soulmate?”

Instinctively, your right hand flies towards his left, squeezing and looking at him. You didn’t have the strength to answer that question looking at Hoseok.

“A few months ago… I took a few days off work. The pain was so bad back then that I couldn’t even get up from the bed. I didn’t know who they were, but I just knew they were suffering the same pain I was. Hurting them that way didn’t make it worth it, I wanted to end it that day. I am not proud of it, but I don’t regret thinking it either.”

Suddenly, a wave of sadness hits you like a ton of bricks, just as Hoseok’s head rests on your shoulder. Jin looks at your wide eyes and smiles at you calmly. His presence is something you could never repay him for, you valued what a gift he was to the people around him. Without saying a word, you turn back to Hoseok, hugging him around the neck, only wanting to get rid of those negative feelings inside him. After a while, still agitated and without looking at you, he spoke.

“My biggest fear was being the reason my soulmate could potentially die,” he whispered, so low that you were sure nobody else had heard him. He shook himself out of his feelings and with a smile that didn’t really reach his eyes, spoke his question. “What do you value the most in life?”

Giving him back the biggest smile you could muster, you didn’t even need to think what to answer. It already was second nature, to tell the truth to this wonderful man, no questions asked.

“My independence, my parents always taught me how to be independent and I love the feeling of being able to provide for myself, give myself little prices when I feel like I’ve done something right and I am satisfied how it turned out.” Hoseok hadn’t taken his eyes away from yours as you answered, pride sweeping out of him as he kissed your forehead and settled you against his side for the time being. How fast had he caught on to know that you needed his comfort only from looking at your eyes?

The faces around the table were solemn and you got the feeling that the relaxed atmosphere they had intended for dinner had gone out the door the second Tae unknowingly started the interrogation. You wanted to stop, but you didn’t have the heart when they were also confessing to you, showing you parts of themselves. It was then when you realised that they also needed to tell you, not because they wanted to pay you somehow for the information you were giving up; they wanted you to get to know them as they were getting to know you. Jungkook was getting fidgety by the second and he was boring a hole in his plate with his stare until he raised his eyes and blurted out his confession.

“I grew up in the spotlight and I am used to the lack of privacy it brings, but when my life is aired out when scandals come out, I just want to be a 23 year old whose biggest concern is handing in essays on time and looking for a job,” he didn’t stop to breath while leaving it all out in the open and, giving the lack of reaction of his older brothers, this wasn’t the first time he lamented his lost childhood. “What is your happiest memory?”

You did have to think about that question; despite the pain, your college years had been some of the happiest of your life, when you picked up dancing and some of your best friends to the date you met then. Thinking clearly, there was a clear image in your head when you thought about the happiest moment of your life.

“It may have been my last year of college, some of my friends had been abroad the year before and we hadn’t seen each other in months. We met for Halloween, bought a ton of food and a lot of alcohol,” you chuckled, already happy only at remembering those couple of days, “we went to one of my friend’s house, we had pizza for dinner, listened to music and got drunk! I still remember clearly how my friend started dancing to Chungha and even dropped to the floor in the chorus of Gotta Go! We started speaking in English and we couldn’t switch back to Korean! We even started hugging each other every time we refilled our drinks…” you hadn’t noticed how you had raised your voice as you excitedly remembered that day, gesticulating with your hands, and now everyone in the room was happily looking at you, sweet smiles in their faces. You blushed a little bit and turned towards your soulmate, his head only a tad bit taller than you when he hugged you like this. His eyes were reflecting the happiness you were feeling and showing you just how much he cared for you.

Yoongi coughed a little, breaking the little bubble inside which you found yourself with Hoseok, making you focus on him.

“I know that, no matter what, music will always be a part of my life, but I am scared that people might misinterpret my message, dub me something I am not. Someone I am not,” he said, with such a conviction that the room descended into silence again. Even if his statement was frightening, how much of him depended on being understood, his gummy smile instantly made an appearance and, deviating his eyes to Hoseok for a millisecond, he asked: “Are you happy?”

“Immensely,” you responded, not needing to think and not needing to hide. After such a sincere question, that didn’t need further explanation, you looked at the two remaining men, while your soulmate’s arms tightened around you.

Taehyung and Jimin glanced at each other, debating who would go next and seemed to reach an agreement between them when Taehyung spoke first.

“I miss my grandmother a lot these days, I am always wondering what she would have said if she saw how far we’ve all come,” he told you, eye to eye, with a nostalgic smile that made his face solemn and distantly happy at the same time. “What are you most grateful for?”

The answer came instantly to your lips, but you had the good sense to clasp them closed before you blurted it out. You contemplated modifying your answer until something caught your attention; Namjoon was focusing all his attention on you, jaw locked and raised eyebrow, daring you to lie, to half-ass your way out of the question. That alone gave you the courage to say it, but it didn’t mean you couldn’t hide while saying it. Burying your face in your soulmate’s chest, you spoke up, loud enough so everyone in the room could hear.

“Hoseok.”

Loud whoops and peals of laughter could be heard even at the entrance of the restaurant, Hoseok’s chest vibrated with his sweet laughter, not restraining himself, he kissed the crown of your head several times and tightened, if it was even possible at this point, his hold on you until your ribs hurt.

Coming around the table with a face-splitting grin on his face, Jimin took your hand in his and extracted you from a not-so-happy Hoseok, who pretended to sulk while Jimin directed you to a part of the room that didn’t have furniture in it.

“I hated you at the beginning because you were hurting Hoseokie hyung, but now I don’t ever want you to ever leave,” he said all this with his sweet smile and didn’t even give you time to ponder on what he had said when he was asking, “Truth or dare?”

With a confused face, you hesitantly answered dare and began regretting it almost instantly, as he pulled out his phone, and gave it to Taehyung.

“I dare you to keep up with me dancing to Fake Love, if you manage, I’ll give you whatever you want,” Jimin told you, eyes filled with mischief and feet already moving of their own accord. Your jaw could have practically touched the floor.

“Are you… I haven’t danced in years, HOW DO YOU EVEN THINK I COULD KEEP UP WITH YOU?!” You accused, hearing disbelieving laughs behind you, “You just want me to make a fool of myself,” crossing your arms over your chest and stomping your foot, you were the picture-perfect image of a petulant child.

“You don’t fool me, I have been watching you while we practised, you know our choreos, you couldn’t keep yourself still and the movements that got away from you were precise and on the beat. You can do this, I just want to see if you have the courage,” he mocked you, arms cross in imitation of your silly pose and haughtiness rolling off of him in waves. Hoseok was looking between the both of you, looking oddly offended and pensive.

Now, pride wounded, you weren’t thinking in how seven professional idols were looking at you and analysing your every move, you just wanted to wipe the silly smile off his face. Signalling for Taehyung to start the song, Jimin asked whose part you wanted to dance. With a hoarse Hobi’s you tried to warm up your muscles at record speed, with your luck, the best end of the night would be you breaking a leg.

Before the music started playing, Taehyung telling you he’d give you a cue so you weren’t caught off guard with the sudden start, you closed your eyes. Among your anxiousness, you felt, strong and latent, how pride was slowly filling you, from the tip of your toes reaching up until there wasn’t a single part of your body that didn’t feel the emotion. Reassured and certain that Hoseok was still there, Taehyung gave you the cue and the music started.

In the beginning, your muscles screamed at you in outrage after so many months of disuse, outrightly refusing to cooperate. Still, you managed to keep in time with Jimin, his steps so fluent it didn’t even seem difficult for him. The chorus was tricky, you needed to put the energy you didn’t have behind your movements, needed to make it look flawless, one foot in the wrong place and you’d trip. Your breathing became laboured and you focused harder, that special calm that used to envelop you when you danced washing around you and blocking out everything but the music and the constant presence of Hoseok next to your heart.

Your back hurt when you had to crouch down and it still protested a little bit when you were supposed to be fighting with Taehyung and Namjoon while Yoongi rapped, but you pushed through. Now more than halfway through the song, you were aware that your eyes were open but unseeing, you were aware of Jimin waltzing laps around you but you didn’t care. After having to quit dancing because of the pain, you were feeling it again, the rush, the adrenaline. You were feeling the euphoria of it all.

You kneeled on the ground, while Jimin stood behind you, pretending that Taehyung was there, holding him. Then you got up and turned your back to the room, catching your breath, coming down from the high dancing had given you. The last chords of the outro came out of the speakers and you rolled your torso backwards to end up enveloping Jimin in an awkward hug. The song was over.

Breathing hard, and not hearing a single noise in the room, you dared a look around and found six pairs of wide-open eyes focused solely on you. Turning your head a bit to the right gave you a glimpse of a proudly smiling Jimin nodding at you.

“Was I that bad?” You asked, and six sets of jaws dropped to the tablecloth.

Tag list: @obsessoverthesmallthings247 @threedecadesofawkward@mabel-k3 @tremendousminyoongi @justignoremepleaz @demonic-meatball @hadaises @littlestsweetpea28 @rjsmochii @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d @gali-005 @salty-for-suga @indicisive-af @nomimits7@lysjeon @raisatarannum1234 @purplelady85@threedecadesofawkward @valentynxmgc @acopenhagenarmy@ephyra1230 @minluvly @trashandshook @brinascorpio@trixiethebear @hobi-love @geekgirl41402​ @annywaa​ @mirajanefairytailmage​

[thecaptainhelm]

Every Tap of My Heart

Here’s a  valentine’s gift for @savagenutella46, whose a lovely person! Here’s my gift of writer love for a fellow maribat enthusiast, hope you have a wonderful day fit for a wonderful person. xoxo uwu [insert heart heart winky face heart eyes rose]

Thanks to the moderator @eat0crow for setting this up so nicely, ily all!

In a small office, one of the many in the college of liberal arts building, two people sat across from one another in an awkward manner. One, a rather tall, tan, and robust young man with a relaxed and loose posture, and the other, a much smaller brown, older gentleman, salt and peppered hair and frown lines around his mouth.

“Mr. Wetherby,” the young man said in greeting.

“Jonathan.” Mr. Wetherby deadpanned in return. There was a slight pause between the two before the older gentleman spoke again.

“Well, how are you progressing with your midterm project Jonathan? You were well ahead of your peers the last I observed. I trust you have maintained this pace?”

Jon grinned at this, rather than being intimidated by the scholarly demeanor of his professor. Many of his classmates were intimidated by Mr. Wetherby if not for his surprisingly deep voice, then for the juxtaposition of his gentle appearance and his strict teaching. He had only ever felt amused.

“Yes sir, everything is going well. I’ve already checked the business’s schedule and set a meeting with the owner to have a short interview. Everything is totally in order.”

Mr. Wetherby stoically gazed at Jon’s silly grin as they conversed and didn’t say anymore. He simply nodded, typed a few phrases in the computer and turned the screen to Jon. 

“Very good. With this the meeting is complete and you’ve received full marks for the student-teacher progress report. Have a nice day, Jonathan.”

“Right sir, thank you sir, you too sir,” Jon smiled, bright and goofy, unmoving from his seat.

Mr. Wetherby gained a slight tick near his temple.

“Mr. Kent.” The young man blinked, tilting his head with a look comparable to a puppy dog.

“Yes, Mr. Wetherby?”

“You may leave now,” He spoke through gritted teeth. “Have. A good. Day.”

“Right sir, of course sir!” Jon bounced up and carelessly packed his things away. “Have a good day sir!” He energetically left the room and before the remaining occupant could so much as sigh, Jon popped back in, dark hair flopping into his eyes.

“Oh yeah, are we still on for patrol or are you going to call in--”

“Beat it, Corncob!”

“Hahaha!” Jon cackled and dashed away to complete his assignment. Anyone who saw him would do a double take. It seemed as though he was gliding on air, though he wasn’t moving particularly fast. People shrugged and moved about their day, too busy to really care.

Jon Kent was just strange like that.

Sometime later in the evening, the tall and somewhat awkwardly bulky Jon Kent nervously shuffled his way through Metropolis, carefully moving around busy pedestrians and apologizing in a fluster when he didn’t move carefully enough. He knocked into one final person and sheepishly grinned at the irate grunt before arriving at his target location. La Bonne Fée.

The building was sizable, enough space for a backroom, restrooms, a cozy kitchen facility, counter, and booths for people to sit and relax, with enough space left over to not feel compact. The furnishings were all warm, comfortable and the decorations had a slight vintage feel from a  bygone era of classy etiquette and manners. Through the door he could clearly hear the music of an old school juke-box, playing a Jagged Stone album.

Jon had come to such a café to ask the owner for an interview for the school financial magazine’s new column dedicated to new and upcoming businesses.

Some would ask if Jon lost his touch, others if he was touched in the head. Why would he interview a brand new café, one not even a part of a chain, when they were practically all over the city selling the same thing as their competitors.

Jon swallowed hard, and knocked on the softwood door. He picked up a jumping pulse and saw though the window a head of dark hair quickly poke out from behind the counter. His palms had become sweaty and his own heart jumped in his chest when soft footsteps quickly paced to the door and was pulled open with a silent, breathless smile.

“Jon, hey!” Marinette Dupain-Cheng looked up at him with bright grey eyes, almost silver under the city lights and his heart really kicked into high gear then, only slightly less embarrassing when he heard her heart doing the same.

“Glad you could make it,” She nervously fixed the hem of her sweater and pulled her apron on straight.

“Me too,” He smiled at her and was fine getting lost on her eyes before she cleared her throat and held the door wider.

“Would you like to, um if you would--?”

“Oh right, yeah, yeah, yes please, um,” Jon gulped and grinned strangely. He walked in with small quick steps through the door, taking extra care to not bump into her and send the smaller woman three inches through the flooring. God, he wouldn’t ever live that down if that actually happened.

“Well, I’ll grab some refreshments while you set everything up. Be back in a bit,” Marinette grinned as she led him to a booth near the front, out of view of the windows and moved to the counter with a stiff gait. He sat, pulling out his notebook, his voice recorder, pencils and two copies of the agreed upon interview questions. He fiddled with the materials, trying to distract himself from Marinette’s sounds, her heartbeat, her slight hitches in breath as she moved, the sound her petite fingers made when rubbing against the foam cups, all to no avail.

Yes, that’s a suspicious amount of attention to a single, pretty young woman in the city, but he couldn’t help it. He pressed down on the indentation of his index finger, reveling in the simultaneous sensations of hearing and feeling her heartbeat in person.

He couldn’t help it because she was his soulmate.

Jon’s soulmate mark was one he had from birth, thought to be a deformity but what was actually a touch based soul mark. Pressing it would allow him to feel the pulse and heartbeat of his soulmate, so long as they were alive in this life. The doctors had actually thought there might be a twin or a second heart while he was in the womb, but an x-ray via Superman showed that he was a  lone healthy baby. 

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was a small, triracial young woman, with delicate features, a barely noticeable spread of freckles across a small nose and round grey eyes that turned into happy crescents when she beamed wide and unrestrained. This was all he knew about her, from their brief interactions while they set up the interview, all skin deep and superficial knowledge that he wanted to get past. 

This was his soulmate and he knew he shouldn’t rush, but there were so many things that she would have to know about him, things he shouldn’t and couldn’t hide from her, at least not forever, but how was he going to bring up being a superhero? No, wait, how was he going to bring up being half extraterrestrial?! She’d freak!

He tried to relax. He only found out the Marinette was his soulmate when he asked if she would let him interview her and couldn’t help but compare her heart rate to the one on his finger, further panicking when he saw her press her fingertips together in glee and saw the imprint of his finger upon her own. From there he saw that her index finger would snugly fit the imprint on his and he knew it, beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was his soulmate, that special person the universe found matched perfectly to him in every way that counted. He’d studied and pressed and listened to this heartbeat, wanting to press his head against her back to study and listen in the flesh for years, all before he knew who she was and that she was his and he was hers.

He pressed on it as she walked back to their booth, watching and smiling as she relaxed somewhat, lightly stroking her thumb along her finger as she set the tray of cookies and coffea, the cafe’s specialty fusion drink.

“Sorry for the wait,” She neatly placed the cookies between them after setting down their drinks. He watched the quick and graceful way she tucked the tray into her seat beside her before sending him a dazzling grin that briefly scrambled his brain.

He gaped before managing to stutter out a lame “no trouble” and Marinette merely grinned, cheeks pink. He could dually understand her heart at this time and couldn’t help becoming more flustered. His dumb brain was making him think Marinette had a crush on him, when she was probably just nervous and excited for the interview.

Yeah, that’s all there is to it, nothing more to it at all, he told himself while watching her cheeks darken. 

It wasn’t anything more.

“Well, here’s to a good interview?” Marinette nervously giggled as she raised her cup and Jon did the same without a second thought, only realizing his mistake when she saw his soulmark and paled, honing in like a bat out of hell. He tensed trying to think of an excuse or a lie or something to say but he was stuck. Hope clogged his throat and desire pressed down his tongue.

“You have a soulmark?” She asked after a lengthy pause.

“Y-yes, I do.” His voice cracked from bad nerves and excitement.

“I do too. Touch based.” Her eyes pierced through his soul and pinned him on the spot. He couldn’t leave even if he wanted to.

“Cool. Super cool! I have one too, touch based like yours, yep! Cool!” Jon bobbed his head fervently, searching her gaze and found that she seemed to have the same idea as him. Her hand stretched to the middle of the table and waited for him to meet her in the middle. When he reached, slow and steady, it exposed the subtle quaking of his hand, revealing his inner feelings. He was comforted by the fact that her hand was shaking across from him too. It was a relief she felt the same.

Finally, the fingers touched, a small pale finger tapping two knuckles against the back of his. His shoulders tensed, Marinette mirroring him beat for beat as shoulder collapsed in devastation.

If Jon had thought that feeling Marinette’s heartbeat secondhand was an amazing feeling, then all the wonders of the accumulated sensation were nothing compared to this one touch. The pure physical sensation of another being pulsed through him, the echoing din that had been with him unnoticed all this time becoming known as he melted into himself, feeling it destroy him gently and lovingly.

“Wow,” Marinette breathed shakily. “Wow, I’ve, I never thought,”--an incredulous laugh-- “That was…”

She trailed off taking in his enraptured expression.

“Yeah, me too.” He grinned in wonder. His eyes bored into her own, falling deeper into her spell.

They stared at each other before Marinette finally broke the silence.

“Bonsoir.” She extended her other hand, unwilling to break contact.

“Hi.” He firmly grasped it, giving a strong shake. “Jonathan Kent, miss. Pleased to meet you.”

Marinette smiled beatifically. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng. The pleasure is all mine, Jon.”

The End

[nanyoky]

@essayofthoughts asked for:

"Perc'ahlia babe and also Vaxleth and Pikelan"

Mwahahaha...

Perc'ahlia:

Who’s the messiest one: I mean it depends. Cuz Percy has a place for every little thing. But when he's mid project it tends to turn into organized chaos. Vex may occasionally leave things lying around if she's tired or distracted.

Who feels the most uncomfortable about PDA: definitely Percy, but it's less uncomfortable and more "easily flustered." Like it's just something he's accepted. Vex gunna smooch. Percy gunna blush.

Who’s the funniest drunk: Percy. Cuz he has the same attitude, but he's struggling to take off his socks for bed like "what a- a- idiotic invenshuhh..... Fucking.... Stuplid..... Imma make em better... Make... Sock....better...." While Vex is equally drunk but still doing her four step skincare routine like "yes dear"

Who texts the most: probably Vex. Anything between conversational back and forth, long rambling but deep trains of thought and "LOOK AT THIS DOG I MET"

Who has the most embarrassing taste in music: hmm probably Percy but only in like a "parody of himself" kinda way. Nothing but a mix of chamber orchestra and emo music. Which aren't all that bad on their own, but he is a hashtag Byronic Posh Boi and so of COURSE that's all he listens to. Vex has cool(tm) tastes in music. Even if a song or artist wasn't cool (tm) before, it becomes cool(tm) once she likes it.

Who reads the most: I mean Percy. Not that Vex doesn't read, but he big nerd.

Who’s better with kids: ooo boy that's A QUESTION for some canonical parents, huh? I'm going to say Percy, just because I feel like Vex is a parent who can get overwhelmed sometimes and not know how to handle needy kids when she's running on empty (feel like I should say this does not make a person a bad parent- just that as a kid it's hard to understand that adults get tired). Meanwhile Percy has a natural tone that suggests what he's saying is fact, so if he's too tired for high energy toddlers he's just like "sitting by the fire drinking tea is a very fun game" and the bbs just climb into his lap like "you're right being quiet and snuggly is very fun" while Vex watches like "HOW."

Who’s the one that fixes things around the house: Percy's a good good tinker boi

Who’s got the weirdest hobby: listen one of them invented firearms and the other has a pet bear it's a toss up.

Who cooks and who cleans up: Both are what you might call... Functional cooks. Nothing to write home about, but they get the job done. But Percy excels more at baking (structured, exacting) and Vex is better at more loosely defined things like soups and sauces. Cleaning up is a duo activity and a nice part of their evening wind down.

Vaxleth:

Who’s the messiest one: deffo Keyleth. Houston we have a hoarder. She gets emotionally attached to everything, and saves up little bits and bobs of things for crafting and home diy projects all the time.

Who feels the most uncomfortable about PDA: probably Keyleth, but it's in like- the most Social Anxiety way possible. It's not so much that she's uncomfortable, it's that she gets worried that being snuggly or kissing will make others uncomfortable.

Who’s the funniest drunk: oh that's a hard one. Cuz we've seen them both be high quality drunks, (ie day drinking queen and "heterosexuality is fake and magic is just the fucking best????????"). I'd say Vax because I feel like he's more likely to insist he's not that drunk and doesn't need anyone to look after him, and therefore will get into more shananigans/flirt more

Who texts the most: another toughie. Probably Vax, in a similar style to Vex.

Who has the most embarrassing taste in music: they both have the same issue as Percy, in that their tastes are just a parody of themselves. Vax has three categories of favorite music: sad emo boy, sexy alt boy, and rebellious 90s girl. And then Keyleth is just unironically into the softest cheesiest music you've ever heard on the soundtrack to a chick flick. We're talking Jewel here, folks. Also retro oldies cuz Homeschooled Vibes. I'm going to say Vax tho, cuz he's the one who gets emotional about it, while Keyleth is just a casual listener. And he listens to more of her music than she does his. She'll send him the Live at the Troubadour recording of Kelly Clarkson's Sober and he responds back like "??? Why would you send me this??? At 10am on a Tuesday??? When I have things to do??? Now I'm crying on the bus?????" And she's just "glad you liked it! :D"

Who reads the most: probably Vax. He gets deep into reading in attempts to find less self destructive ways of getting out of his head.

Who’s better with kids: hm I'm gunna say Vax on this one because Keyleth has a tendency to try too hard with everyone and was also an only child who was forced into very structured time while growing up cuz expectations. Vax has more clear memories of actually just being a kid when the twins were with their mom, so he can relate easier. That being said they're both pretty good, as we see with that kid Simon, a scene that will HAUNT ME FOREVER.

Who’s the one that fixes things around the house: def keyleth. DIY queen. Vax just gets frustrated and is like "let's just buy a new one"

Who’s got the weirdest hobby: hmmm. Keyleth has A LOT of hobbies, but Vax def will do parkour, just cuz. Like he may have started back when he was still kind of a criminal, but now he doesn't have a practical excuse and he doesn't even like- record it or anything so there's no point to it. He just sees urban environments and goes "gotta jump. Gotta climb. Just gotta."

Who cooks and who cleans up: Keyleth has got prep on lock. Gardening. Hunting and trapping. Gathering. Cleaning and dressing and chopping. She's got this. It's adding fire to things where she starts having trouble. Vax picks things up from there just fine though, and covers dishes and such on the back end.

Pikelan:

Who’s the messiest one: Pike. Pike. Pike. Having a perma-home at last means she gets comfy, which means you can usually not see the bedroom floor. Scanlan is scandalized.

Who’s the one that fixes things around the house: Scanlan tries. He likes the idea of being helpful with domestic stuff and not just a goofus who's just around for the fun parts of being together. Unfortunately he's never really lived anywhere long enough to get good at household repair, and it takes him way too long to do anything. Pike is pretty handy, but gets so busy that she'll just put up with something being broken for weeks. Best case scenario is Pike shows Scanlan how to do something so the next time he can do it himself and feel accomplished and she can come home to things being fixed and give him smooches and coo over him being a handyman.

Who's the funniest drunk? Pike. "I'M TRYING TO STEALTH."

Who feels the most uncomfortable about PDA: it may shock people, but Scanlan has the same "once it's serious I get bashful" disease as Vax. Pike will absolutely give his bootie a tap in line at the grocery store and he just goes bright red. He tries to laugh it off like he's still the smarmy mess everyone knows, but she teases him endlessly about it.

Who texts the most: Scanlan is an absolute "good morning," "thinking of you," "how was your day," and "goodnight" text person before they live together. After they move in together it's just text versions of his cover songs about his love for her and dank memes.

Who has the most embarrassing taste in music: we know it's Scanlan. We've heard his cover tracks. Pike has similar cool(tm) tastes as Vex.

Who reads the most: Pike is probably someone who's always on the move, so she's more an audiobook person. But Scanlan is like fully ready for the dad life. Just loving any weekend where he does nothing but sit around in flannel pj pants reading a mystery paperback.

Who’s better with kids: It's a hard one. Scanlan second guesses himself quite a bit and worries every little thing he says or does is going to become Lasting Trauma. Pike acts more chill about it, but slowly gets more and more overwhelmed until she nearly has a nervous collapse. But their opposite styles work well together and they're able to be a pretty great team.

Who’s got the weirdest hobby: I feel like Pike is someone with a weird collection. It is either something a little spooky but cool and academic, like antique medical equipment, or something horrifyingly tacky, like a thong from every city she visits. Maybe both.

Who cooks and who cleans up: this is where Scanlan is a much quicker learner about domestic stuff. Pike is a good cook, but it's usually on the move so much she doesn't have the time for meal planning and prep. Scanlan absolutely throws himself into being a house husband and gets obsessed with cooking shows. Pike insists on helping with dishes tho.

[thr-333]

Mismatch- Part 20

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020

The Batman hiding behind a corndog stall from a teenage girl: are you sure this is necessary? Twins: yes

First < Previous > Next

---------------------------

They arrive at the fair without being followed by Harley, at least she hopes so. Bruce somehow being able to convince Marion to not eat before going on the rides. In return Marion takes them straight to the most intense ride they have.

“Oh darn Mari,” Marinette says being dragged in line, “I don’t think we can go on this one without our disguises falling off,”

“Don’t worry I’ve been on plenty of rides like this and my glasses have never fallen off,”

You have magic glasses you twat! Marinnette glares, getting only a grin, telling her Marion knows exactly what he is doing. She's about to say as much when she notices an unfortunately familiar pair of pigtails in the crowd.

“Mari-” She looks over to her grinning twin.

“You know Nette if you really don't want to go on you don't have to,” Marion teases, Harley Quinn getting way too close to escape.

“On second thought let's go,” Marinette pushes Marion towards the ride, ignoring Bruce's surprise and Marion's taunting.

They get pulled onto the ride, Marinette coming off ghostly pale. Thankfully no Harley Quinn in sight.

“Let’s go again,” Marion starts pushing Marinette back in line, too light headed to stop him.

“How about we try some of the food, instead,” Bruce offers, looking over at her with concern.

“Sure, we can go on the rides later then,” Marion calls cheerfully, skipping off to a cotton candy stand.

“I got played didn’t I?” Bruce asks, watching Marion join the line.

“Like a fiddle,” Marinette starts to get some of the color back in her cheeks, “Don’t worry happens to everyone,”

“Yeah, he’s like his Mom,” Bruce mutters under his breath, but she still hears, “I mean…”

“It’s alright,” Marinette shrugs, walking towards the stand “Cotton candy?”

“Do I have to eat it?” Bruce grimaces, following her.

“Marions going to find a way to make you try it one way or another,”

Marion somehow manages to convince them all to get cotton candy. Bruce being thoroughly confused by it.

“It’s easy, all you do is pull a piece off,” Marinette demonstrates pulling off a piece.

“Or you can just bite it,” Marion faceplants into it.

“And get it all over your face,” Marinette deadpans, sneaking some to Tikki.

“Exactly,” Marion grins, coming back up with pink sugar all over his face.

“And you’re sure I don’t need any utensils,” Bruce says, looking quite out of place with the oversized pink cloud.

“No!” They both shout.

‘Alright then,” He pulls off a piece, cringing as he eats it, “This is just sugar,”

“Precisely,” Marion grins, biting off a big chunk.

“You're going to make yourself sick,” Bruce looks like he’s about to yank it away from him.

“ Precisely ,” Marion says, muffled by the dissolving sugar, “We should try funnel cake next!”

“Dear god, he’s just like Dick,” Bruce frets, watching as Marion bounces to the stall.

“I’m willing to bet Mari’s worse,” She watches as he eyes up the powdered sugar, “he’s a bottomless pit,”

“I think you might me right,” Bruce winces as Marion receives an oversized funnel cake, “that's terrifying,”

“You should see him around cheese,” Marinette suggests innocently, “Especially camembert,”

“I’ll have to keep that in mind,”

Please do

They follow Marion around the food stalls. Marinette is able to keep up by feeding most of her sweet treats to Tikki. Bruce is not so lucky. They come across a mirror maze Marinette points out to give Bruce a break.

“Ah yes the mirror maze the best place to make sure no one recognises you,” Marion recites theatrically.

“The reflections are distorted,” Bruce walks past a mirror making him comically short

“Yeah that guy looks kind of like the Joker,” Marinette looks over to where Marion is pointing.

“Ah Mari,” She hesitates looking over the group of clowns reflected in the mirror that should definitely not be holding guns, “I think that is him,”

“Not again,” Marion mutters, backing up.

She tries to form a plan, they have to make a break for it to change into costumes or people could get hurt. But how are they supposed to so that with Bruce hovering over them. He looks like he’s trying to find an escape route, they have to find a way to protect them and-

“Is that Harley Quinn?” Marion whispers.

Sure enough they watch a reflection of the group making out from the stretched image as Harley walks over to the group and hits the Joker right over the head with a mallet.

“We should leave,” Bruce whispers, herding them in the direction they came.

“Will she be alright?” Marinette asks, watching the fight through a different mirror and gunshots echo.

“Yeah I think she’ll be fine,” Bruce says, as Harley knocks the gunmen's weapons away while hyenas chase after them through the maze.

They exit the maze in record time, Bruce being able to lead them through it easily.

“Do you think we should tell someone?” Marinette asks, there doesn't seem to be any more people going into the maze, maybe it's a Gotham six sense.

“We should,” Bruce agrees, less than enthusiastically.

“Or, or,” Marion dances in front of them, “We could go play some games,”

“We were almost attacked by the Joker and you think that's a good use of time?” Marinette can tell Bruce is thinking the same.

“Exactly! We were almost, so it doesn't count now does it?” Marion doesn't wait for an answer as he rushes off further into the fair.

They have no choice but to sigh and follow after him. Well they do but that's beside the point.

“Oh how awful it is, to not get to partake in the joys of a rollercoaster, unlike yourself whom screams with delight and fear every time-” Marinette uses the water gun to spray in the clown's face, “Hey!”

Unfortunately the clown that is related to her, not the carnival game. Marion tries to grab the water gun and they start fighting over it. Somehow they still manage to get a high score, enough for the big prize. Whether it was her good luck or Marion's bad luck projecting onto the stall runner is unclear.

“Unbelievable,” Marinette sighs as they walk away from the stall.

“Sorry, Nette there's just no love for the bugs,” Marion grins, hugging the giant black cat to his chest.

“I will find a Ladybug, just watch me,” She promises, this was never a problem in Paris, they have tonnes of Ladybug plushies.

“Sure you will,” Marion hums, Bruce just looks amused at their antics.

“If not I’m sewing spots onto the cat,” Marinette threatens, walking between rows of stalls none having a Ladybug plush.

“Nooooo,” Marion cowers, hugging the cat close.

“I think I saw a Ladybug prize somewhere back there,” Bruce points in the opposite direction.

“Where?” Marion runs where Bruce is pointing, Cat raised above his head, “We must go to save Dough boy!”

“Dough boy?” Marinette jogs slightly to keep up.

“From your disproving tone I can tell you approve,” Marion turns on his heel walking backwards.

“You know I technically won that game,” She pokes the cat toy in the chest.

“Please you were losing without me,” Marion grins, people moving out of his way.

“No I wase- look out!” Marinette pushes them both into the gap between stalls.

“What’s wrong?” Bruce asks, on guard looking out for the Joker, Marinette can feel him scanning the area.

“The devil has arrived,” Marion whispers, noticing Lila, “Her dark shadow always follows us,”

“... Pardon?” Bruce relaxes taking it for a joke, which it is most certainly not,  Marinette tenses as Lila sends Kim right to the stall they are hiding behind.

“Girl at school we really don’t like, who really doesn't like us,” Marinette summarises, shallowling inhaling the smell of greasy batter.

“Which one?” Bruce analyses the group of teens near them.

“Sausage hair over there,” Marion nods to her, watching as Kim comes back with a corn dog, “Gasp, cannibalism!”

“Are you telling me Lila wouldn’t eat another human?” Marinette crouches down further keeping to the shadows.

“Are you telling me Lila is human?” Marion mutters back, both keeping their voices down.

“Good one,”

“Thanks,”

“Who’re we spy���n on?”

They all jump at the new voice. Marinette twisting to come nose to nose with Harley Quinn.

“De ja vu,”

“What?” Bruce turns to Marion.

“Nothing!” Marion very smoothly avoids eye contact.

“Spy’in on another date are we?” Harley asks, squeezing in next to the group.

“Another?” Bruce looks between them confused.

The twins frantically shake their heads behind Bruce's back. Harley makes a ‘o’ face and gives a nod.

“We’re spying on the devil,” Marion points at Lila, grateful she could at least serve as a distraction, “Bless whatever unfortunate soul has the displeasure of dating her,”

“Sounds to me like you have some strong opinions,” Bruce says, with slight disbelief, probably thinking they are overreacting.

“Trust me they’re founded,” Marinette whispers, cringing at the shrill laugh Lila gives.

Bruce gives her an expectant look and wedged together between a corn dog stall and who knows what else isn’t the best place to pick a fight.

“That’s a grade A psychopath right there,” Harley finally whispers to them.

“You can tell?” Marinette asks, ignoring Marion giving Bruce a smug look.

“Well from what I can see she’s a manipulative Liar-”

“To put it lightly, I don’t think she’s told the truth once in our years of knowing her,” Marion scowls, as Lila animatedly tells another tale, “Not even her name, don’t you think Lila and liar is a bit too convenient?”

“Anyway, she has pretty much all the class wrapped around her finger,” As if to prove her point Sabrina runs off to fetch her a drink, “Makes up rumours about anyone that doesn't follow her blindly and turns the rest against them,”

“I’m taking it you didn’t follow her blindly?” Bruce guesses, what on earth would give him that idea?

Harley seems to be studying Lila like she is a particularly interesting bug.

“Oh no we just love Lila so much we hide in joy every time she comes near,” Marion retreats further into the shadows, a hair away from actually hissing.

“You went toe to toe with scarecrow are you honestly telling me you're hiding from her,” Bruce studies Lila, as if looking for some sign of danger.

“If it helps she literally appeared in my fear toxin… illusions?” Marion looks for confirmation, Bruce giving a nod, Marinette shrugs he had already told her and didn’t feel like a stretch, “As the devil, soooo…”

“What did that meanie do to you!” Harley cries wrapping Marion in a hug, its alright Bruce only looks very concerned.

“Then I suggest we retreat rather than wait for them to leave,” Bruce offers, Marinette gives a nod but Harley has other plans.

“Not until I fuck that girl up!” Harley stands brandishing a mallet.

“Harley no!” Marinette hisses the three of them trying to pull her back out of the stalls.

“Let me go!” Harley struggles but not with any real strength, making sure not to hit them with the mallet, “She needs to pay,”

“Harley if we wanted her gone we could have done it already,” Marion placates, trying to push her away.

“You want her around?”  Harley stops in her tracks, tilting her head to look like a confused child.

“If we wanted her gone violently ,” Marinette specifies, guiding Harley out the alley.

“So you’ll accept a non violent way?” Bruce speaks up surprisingly.

“Yeah… I guess?” Marinette hesitates, Bruce and Harley share a glance then a nod, whatever just happened it might be better to remain ignorant.

“Well, glad we avoided that disaster,” Marion sighs, as he stretches out.

“What disaster, those outfits? Because you look utterly ridiculous,” They all turn to see Chloe scowling down at them.

That's right they said they would be with their aunt today and had turned down her invitation to the fair.

“Chloe! Hi great to see you,” Marion cringes, backing up under the blondes glare, “And everyone else, what a pleasant surprise,”

“Who were you hiding from?” Kagami asks, or rather demands staring suspiciously at Bruce. She gives a simple nod at the waving Harley.

“Would you believe Lila is here?” Marinette sighs, pointing back at the gap they escaped from.

“I suspected she was after Adrien threw up,” Chloe shrugs, Marinette's concern pushes into overdrive, overlooking Adrien for any signs of damage.

“I think that was more the rides combined with this food,” Kagami informs, looking down at a deep fried hotdog with disgust.

“Guys, please…”  Adrien blushes, glancing at her for some reason.

“Who is this?” Kagami demands, definitely demands this time.

“Harley Quinn-”

“Yes we know that,” Chloe huffs, cutting off Bruce.

“Oh.. um,” Marion exchanges a hesitant glance with both of them, “Bruce Wayne?"

“Right, and why is he here with you two?” Chloe doesn't look impressed at Marion's awkward chuckle.

“Um well… uh,” Marinette tries, glancing at Bruce who doesn't meet her look, “We just happened to be in the area?”

“Bzzt! Wrong! Try again,” Chloe makes and ‘x’ with her fingers.

“Publicity stunt?” Marion says, in the most unconvincing tone conceivable.

“Rion, if you were planning a publicity stunt there  would be confetti glitter and fireworks,”

Marinette tries not to laugh remembering a publicity stunt involving MCD that features exactly that.

“What do you want from me,” Marion whines, hiding behind his large plushie.

“The truth,” Kagami snaps, scowling.

“You don’t have to lie to us,” Adrien says gently, half reaching out to them.

“The truth is…” Marinette trails off, completely weak for the boy but it’s clear Bruce doesn't want them to know.

“... I am their biological Father,”

They all look at him in shock. Marinette’s is a happy shocked, but their friends...

“What?!”

“I knew it!” Harley cheers, jumping up and down.

“But you- there was- you said-” Kagami stutters, a rarity for her.

“You, me,” Chloe points at Marion then at herself, “Words, now ,”

“Someones in ~trouble~,” Marinette whispers over to him.

“You too Marinette Dupain Cheng,” Chloe points right in her face.

“Ohh full name,” Marion returns the favour, “It’s been awhile,”

“Careful Cheng Dupain,” Chloe glowers, Marion chuckles uncomfortably.

“I’m in danger,” Mario gets dragged to the side, Marinette following, leaving Bruce behind.

“You’re in trouble ,” Kagami scolds, as they stop out of earshot from Bruce and Harley who is buzzing around asking a million questions, “If you don’t explain right now,”

“You owe us an explanation,” Chloe lets go of Marion's arm, “You were in the hospital and we were all worried trying to control these rumors and now you tell us its the truth and I-”

“Chlo, I’m sorry Selina only just told us,” Marion cuts off her rant, bordering on tears, he adds, “In the hospital,”

“You’re Aunt told you, but how would she-” Adrien puzzles, realisation dawning, “ No ,”

“Yes?” Marinette backs up a step, everyone realising the same.

“Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous,” Chloe stomps her foot, “How can someone do that?!”

“Chlo, we’re not mad,” Marion tries to placate, Chloe turning on him.

“Of course you're not!” She explodes, “You two are perfect and forgiving which is why I have to be mad for you,”

“I think it would be nicer if you weren't mad and just supportive,” Marion smiles, Chloe's anger crumbling around her.

“... but it’s so much easier to be mad,” She whines, “Can’t I be angrily supportive?”

“I feel like you're going to be anyway,” Marion grins, one of whom they both know Chole is powerless against.

“So what are you doing now?” Adrien asks, looking back at Bruce who is now arguing wiht Harley, or rather getting yelled at.

“Trying to figure things out I guess?” Marinette looks over to confirm with Marion, “Bruce wants us to be sure we want, this,”

She gestures around herself, not sure what she means either.

“Do you want it?” Kagami asks carefully.

“... We want to try,” Marion gets a nod from Marinette.

“Very well, I will make sure he is worthy of you,” Kagami stomps off towards Bruce.

“Kags, you really don’t have to do that!” Marion calls, chasing after her.

“And she’s gone,” Marinette sighs, turning to the others, both smiling, “Adrien, Chloe can you do something?”

“We sure can,” Chloe walks over next to Kagami who is chewing out Bruce with Harley, “So, what do you want with my friends?”

“Not what I meant!” Marinette yells, getting a pat on the shoulder from Adrien.

“Quite you, the adults are talking,” Chloe waves her off.

“I’m older than you!”

“You should know they already have amazing parents that you can't replace,” Adrein adds to the onslaught of demands from the girls, a lot less threatening.

“I know, I’m not trying to,” Bruce answers evenly, still looking concerned at their guard dog like friends.

“Very well, you should know they are both amazing, and if you show anything less than a hundred percent support I will slice you in half,” Kagami threatens, and if she had her sword she would be holding it to his throat.

“Kagami no,” Marion tries to calm her down.

“You’re right, I will make it far more painful,” She growls.

“~Nooo~,” Marion backs down, hugging the cat to his chest.

“That's right, and don’t you dare think that just because your a billionaire your money will cut it,” Chloe scoffs, “Trust me the twins aren't that superficial, in fact they aren't superficial at all, it's frustrating,”

“She said twins,” Marion whispers to her as the demands continue.

“Package deal,” She hisses back, Bruce looking more and more overwhelmed by the pushy teens.

“Good friends you got there,” Harley whispers, content to let the chew out Bruce.

“What were you yelling at him for?”

“Oh nothin, he said some crap about not wanting to put you in danger, so I calmly explained the psychology behind it,” She crosses her arms smugly, “I think I got through to him,”

“If you're worried you should know Mari- they are really strong and can protect themselves,” Adrein says, Bruce starts to agree but is cut off.

“Hey! You were going to say Marinette! Weren’t you?” Marion demands, distracting the three from their onslaught.

“Both your names start with Mari,” Kagami points out, turning to him.

“Are you so insecure you immediately thought he meant Marinette?” Chloe taunts, inspecting her nails.

“No-I,”

“Geeze Rion I know Marinette awesome but your, you know… ok,” Adrien joins her teasing, muttering, “I guess,”

“That’s it, I’m disowning every one of you,” Marion points at each of them before turning to Bruce, “By the way, these are my ex-friends we used to be quite close, then they made the decision to humiliate me and I cut them out of my life forever,”

“Don’t be like that Rion,” Chloe grins, leaning against him.

“Yeah just because Marinette probably won that prize,” Adrien takes his other side, poking at the cat.

“She did not!”

“I did,” Marinette grins, Marion rolls his eyes.

“It was a team effort,”

“Heavily leaning on Marinette,” Kagami adds.

“Alright, let's settle this,” Marion looks at Bruce, “Where did you see that Ladybug?”

“Follow me,” Bruce smiles minutely leading the way.

“Ohh, Ladybug, maybe I should get one,” Chloe gushes, as if she didn’t have a hundred Ladybug plushies already.

“Yeah I can win it for you,” Marinette smirks, flexing her muscles.

“That does it! I’m winning that prize and sewing on cat ears,” Marion pouts, getting cooed at as they point out Marinette is the better seamstress.

“So how’ve you two been doin?” Harley asks, walking in between Chloe and Kagami.

The two start blushing, spluttering denial; which does nothing to convince Harley, or anyone else for that matter. Bruce follows them through the fair on their search for the Ladybug. If Marinette saw him taking pictures as they fought to win the Ladybug first, she wasn't going to say anything.

---------

Hi sorry I missed a few days life got busy>-< Also sorry if I don’t respond to messages or likewise I’m still trying to figure out Tumblr I’ll get there eventually... hopefully.

Taglist:

@technicallyburninggarden @fusser90  @misslenamooney @superbwhispersconnoisseur @biodad-bruce-month @nalu-ismyjam @the-one-woman-army @rosesandsailboats @blackmagicforever @zeneralla @ivymala07 @tired-butterfly @tired-butterfly @Ranger-gothamite @A-star-with-a-human-name @enchanted-nerd

[fandom-------queen]

Kurt x reader

Warnings: Sparring

Notes: your mutation is the ability to read people's fears and traumatic memories. You can also produce illusions for everyone to see or put an illusion only in one person's head. These illusions can be based on their fears or memories. Also since it's based off of Wanda and more of the mind stone your power will be yellow and your eyes will glow yellow.

*Also I'm so sorry this took so long I just had so many papers I had to write last week that it was hard for me too write once I finished them. Also I had to rewrite it a few times when I forgot to hit save. Do again I am very sorry for the delay.

*Not proofread

You awoke to the obnoxious blaring of your alarm. You turned away from the noise to bury your face into your pillow but found yourself face to chest with Kurt. You grinned as you remembered how you fell asleep in Kurt's arms last night. Kurt groaned and reached over you to shut the alarm off then pulled you closer to him and started to drift back off. You lifted your head up and mumbled "Ah ah ah love, as much as I would love to lie here all day we have classes and training." Into Kurt's neck. He gave a groan in response and blinked one eye open giving a toothy smile as you lifted your head from his neck and sit up a bit to smile down at him.

"Oh liebe you are most definetly the best site to wake up to"he said his voice gravelly with sleep.

"Oh Kurt" you mimiced a sly grin covering your face and mischief gleaming in your eyes 'your my favorite pillow to wake up on."

You didn't think it was possible for Kurt to grin even bigger and he was so adorable with his purple tinted cheeks. This was most definetly the best way to wake up, giving Kurt all your love and seeing the look of absolute adoration on his face. The giddy feeling you got from moments like these were better then anything else in the world.

"I have to go to my room and change, but I vill see you for breakfast in a few minutes" he kissed you on the forehead and walked to the door giving you one last smile before leaving your dorm. The need to see Kurt again had you changing in recorded breaking time.

Kurt kurt kurt kurt kurt kurt kurt kurt

You met up with Kurt, Peter, Jean and Scott after grabbing some food. You sat at the table And all had a lovely discussion if who had done the home work this time. Let's be honest you and your fellow mutant friends had a schedule of who would do the homework for each class then at breakfast you would all trade the homework. It was actually really nice to sit there and chat with your friends while copying down important dates for mutants throughout history. And before you knew it all the homework was done and you and your friends where on your way to professor Xavier's literature class. You and all your friends could hardly pay attention because in a few hours after lunch the rest of the afternoon would be simulation training.

Kurt kurt kurt kurt kurt kurt kurt kurt

You, Jean, Kurt, Scott and Peter had just finished scarfing down lunch and were grinning excitedly as you grabbed your training clothes. After changing you all raced to the training room to meet up with Charles and Mystique, Peter obviously won, but you and Kurt came in second when he saw Peter speed ahead and decided to grab you and *BAMF* to the training room.

Charles and Mystique were getting the simulation set up with the help of Hank as the other filled in behind you Peter and Kurt. Everyone loved simulation training it was good to excersize your powers almost like stretching muscles. The rest of the week you would spend doing hand to hand and minor excersize but this was how you put it all to the test and everyone loved it, especially since you would get out of your last class of the day in order to have time to get ready for the simulation.

"Alrighty then" Charles grinned as he wheeled over to you all. "You will be working through the sentinel simulation again" this was most definetly one of the harder stimulations since in the sentinels could mic your powers. You all moved into the simulation room excited to display your powers and impress your teachers. You lined up in the middle of the room and heard Hank's voice through the speakers

"Are you all ready" you all gave a thumbs up for them to see from the window at the top of the wall. The tiles in the room began to change as the images were projected on them and it looked like you were all in a dilapatated town that had been destroyed by sentinels. You looked around not seeing any signs of them besides the damage they had left when all of a sudden you heard a stomp and felt the ground tremble slightly beneath you. Your heads snapped in the direction if the sound and watched as the sentinels walked towards you. There were five of them there, one for each of you. Sentinels were hard for you to fight since they didn't have a mind for you to manipulate, however they couldn't tell the difference from reality and your illusions, which made you to work on them. This was honestly good since projecting so much and so far was definetly harder so the more practice the better.

The sentinels started towards each of you and you all split up, weaving past crumbling buildings and down deserted roads. You took cover behind a smashed car and watched as the sentinel looked around for you. Just as the sentinel recognized you your hands lit up with yellow energy and multiple mutants appeared, each with different abilities. Some were shooting fire, other ice and water, one was flying above. The sentinel looked around constantly being distracted by the other mutants while your illusions gif you, which gave you the opportunity to look for shrapnel you could use to jam into the sentinel. You noticed a metal beam on the other side of the sentinel that had been crushed into pieces with sharpened ends. You rushed over to grab it and in your moment of excitement your illusion no longer hid you.

You were half way to the beam when the sentinel raised it's hand and smacked you into a building, despite the fact that all of this was a simulation it still felt real and in your disorientation your illusion fell and the sentinel was no longer distracted by the other mutants.

Your vision swam for a few moments but you didn't let that stop you from scrambling up and looking around for a place to take cover while you created a new illusion. You were boxed in with no where to go so you did the only thing you could, you cast an illusion. This time you had roots crawling up its feet as mud cemented it all together. Your eyes were glowing this time as you had to concentrate harder and use more energy. You darted past the sentinel, barely missing the sentinels hand attempting to grab you. You kept on sprinting towards the shrapnel when you heard the ripping if roots from the ground. You glanced behind you and watched as the sentinel freed itself and started towards you. Desperate for more time and thoughts impaired you watched as a giant wall if ice formed it was thick enough to give you enough time to run to the shrapnel. You sprinted over to the shrapnel and as you reached it you felt a slight burst of warmth on the back of your neck. You whipped around to watch as the sentinel finished burning through the ice and walked towards you, you only needed a little bit of time so you altered the illusion to push the sentinel back to the other end of the street. It was taking longer to pull the metal out since you had to focus on pushing the sentinel back. It was close to being all the way pulled out do you pushed the sentinel back one last time before dropping the illusion and yanking the metal out all the way. You turned toward the sentinel gripping the shrapnel you created the last part of your plan by setting up another block of ice and watching as the metal lifted to expose the heat from underneath. You started to climb a fire escape that was still attached to a semi intact wall.

You reached a decent height and waited as the sentinel broke free. You jumped down from the fire escape into the sentinel, your suit protecting you from getting burned by the still hot metal on the sentinel. Your idea would potentially toast you but this was the only way you could jam the metal through. You cast a mutant with the ability of ice again. The sentinel immediately turned on the heat again and as the metal lifted you took the shrapnel and shoved it between. You felt the sentinel jerk as the metal cut through the sentinel. The sentinel started to fall and you clung to it having completely forgotten to come up with a way down. The fall wasn't as bad as you had anticipated only jarring you a little.

You jumped up and raced down roads to find the others. You heard the signature *BAMF* and raced towards it. You smiled as you saw Kurt teleporting around the sentinel and wrapping rope around the sentinel. He then *BAMFED* out of the way of the sentinel as if crashed to the ground, Kurt was looking around to find something to finish the sentinel off with as the sentinel's eyes to fire a lazer at Kurt. Desperately you called out Kurt's name and cast an illusion of multiple Kurt's he caught on to what was happening and *BAMFED* next to you.

"Thanks liebe" Kurt said with a light kiss to your cheek.

"Anytime" you smirked. Kurt grinned when he saw the yellow in your eyes and around your hands as you kept the multiple Kurt's to confuse the sentinel.

You watched as Peter sped next to you.

"How do we disable these things" he panted annoyance displayed across his features.

An idea occured to you, "Keep away from the the sentinels" you warned. "I will distract them but I need you two to make a small square around the sentinels. " Kurt *BAMFED* off and was all of a sudden back and handed the rope to Peter who quickley created the rope ring. You changed the illusion to creating a cage right outside of the rope ring. You added random mutants crawling all over the two sentinels as they tried to kill the non-existent mutants and ended up beating each other up. In addition they were tripping over the rope, until one of the mutants destroyed the other. With only one left Kurt took a page out of your book and *BAMFED*. He came back and noted how tired you were.

"Move out of the way liebe, I don't want you hurt even if it is just a simulation." You nodded in agreement not only due to exhaustion but also because you wanted to make sure that Peter and Kurt got an opportunity to display their powers and impress your teachers. Peter began to speed around as the sentinel prepared to lazer him(same way that Scott does, through the eyes). At that moment Kurt *BAMFED* onto the Sentinels head and shoved the shrapnel through his eyes.

He *BAMFED* next to you and you watched as the simulation ended meaning all sentinels had been destroyed. You looked over and saw Kurt and Jean walking towards you covered in sweat but grinning none the less. The doors opened to let you all out of the simulation room and you met your teachers. Charles came forward grinning.

"That was brilliant, all of you did spectacular" you all gave tired grins. "Now you have the rest of the weekend to rest and of course finish you papers for my class." He added before a collective groan resounded between the five of you. "Now go shower you all reek" he gave you one last smile before wheeling away with the rest of the teachers.

Kurt kurt kurt kurt kurt kurt kurt kurt

You had showered and changed into much comfier clothes. Before bounding to Kurt's room where he answered your door with a grin and a "Hey liebe" before grabbing you and diving beneath the covers of his bed. You chuckled as you hugged him tight to you. "You did so good today sveetheart"he mumbled as he nuzzles his head into your neck, his muscles relaxing fully.

"Well handsome you too were fantastic, I was exhausted after the first sentinel so there was no way I would have stood a chance without your brilliant idea of using rope "

"Always the perfect team liebe"

"Always the perfect team Kurt"

Kurt kurt kurt kurt kurt kurt kurt kurt

*I thought the metal was okay to disable the sentinel since they weren't made out of metal to prevent mutants like Magneto from controlling them.

[dragonnan]

Sharing Saturday - a List of Fic Recs

I haven’t restricted this to a number but I’m also doing my best to keep it from going out of control, too.�� I pretty much just have 2 consistent fandoms that I read/write so if you like either the MCU or Sherlock then this is the post for you!

MCU:

Adventures Throughout the Multiverse (Series) by Aelaer Jumping into different dimensions always involves risk. Sometimes you never know what sort of troubles you will run into until you have arrived. Thankfully, alongside these dangers a sorcerer is sometimes lucky enough to come upon unexpected allies.

In which Stephen encounters characters from characters from JRR Tolkien to even his own doppelgänger in Sherlock Holmes. I LOVE these!! Not only supremely clever and lovingly researched but just straight up entertaining as fuck!  @aelaer writes some of the best Doctor Strange fic that I’ve read on on top of all that is a spectacular artist besides!

Omertà by HanukoYoukai After chasing down the criminal that took Uncle Ben's life, Peter is found by James Wesley, the right-hand man of Wilson Fisk--a wealthy businessman trying to clean up Hell's Kitchen. Having left a strong impression on the man, soon Peter finds himself working for Fisk, doing an internship for his business projects by day, and catching bad guys at night. If Mr. Fisk wants a few specific criminals delivered to him personally, who is Peter to object? All his boss wants to do is talk, after all, and ever since this internship began, things were finally looking up for the Parkers. Then Peter hears the whispers in the underworld about the elusive and terrifying Kingpin, and somehow there are rumors that Spider-Man is on the Crime Lord's payroll. When he decides to use his own judgement and go against Mr. Fisk's wishes, Peter suddenly finds himself neck deep in mob activity with no means to get himself out. To make matters worse, now Iron Man has Peter in his sights.....

I LOVE her writing - the interpretations of Peter Parker and fantastic and do right by him in a big way.  Peter is actually the teenager I expect to encounter - with all of the nuance and emotion that I want to see!  On top of that THIS is some top notch Tony Stark - again, very true to canon with his Stark snark intact!

Identity Saga (Series) by KitCat992 An organically developed, platonic slow-burn of Avengers-fam dynamic with a heavy hand of Irondad & Spiderson. Throw in an overdose of whump, a couple of cunning villains and a big-bad hiding in the shadows, and you got yourself this hot mess.

Another stunning Peter Parker writer and OH my gosh if you are an IronDad fan and haven’t read this yet like what in THE hell are you doing?? Strap that seatbelt tight and paste your eyeballs to this series you will NOT be disappointed!

A Twisted Upheaval (WIP) by silentsaebyeok “I’m afraid, Harrison, you’ve awakened a sleeping giant.” Wilson said. “Tony Stark will do anything and everything to protect those he loves. And with your carelessness, it is inevitable that my criminal empire will be brought to its knees. This is your last opportunity, your last chance to get this right. He is on our radar now.” -- The Kingpin runs the criminal underworld. He is the mastermind and the puppeteer. Tony Stark has been trying to find the elusive gangster for years, but with no luck. But then Peter Parker is kidnapped by an agent of the Kingpin’s, revealing the cracks in an otherwise unshakeable organization. Unlikely alliances form and friendships are made as the criminal underworld begins to unravel.

*Smacks my desktop* THIS story!! It isn’t even completed yet but this fic is top level epic! This one, along with Omertà, got me totally hooked on Wilson Fisk interfering with both Peter and Tony and boy does it deliver on those dynamics!!

Sherlock:

Got My Eye on You (Series) by 7PercentSolution These stories cover just about everything from Greg's POV, from the first day they met when Sherlock was 17 through the pre-John years, John's arrival, their work together, the fall and the reunion, covering events in broadcast series 1-3 (and 4 eventually). If you ever wondered why Greg Lestrade was one of the three people Moriarty targeted, this is your answer. 

Frankly I love everything I’ve read so far - the stories are incredible and deep and not afraid to dig into hard subjects.  There is a wealth of backstory and Sherlock’s younger years and all the hardships he dealt with.  I’m especially in love with the OC, Sam - what a treasured character!

It takes John Watson to save your life. by Sparkypip A series of One shots where John saves Sherlock's life in so many ways. Will be updated sporadically as and when I get any time to write. As always I like my characters hurt, so plenty of angst, H/C, whump and bromance (no slash) will ensue. Please comment if you can.

These were some of the first Sherlock fics I ever read and I have been hooked on this writer to this day!  SO satisfyingly whumpy and on top of that many of the stories have their own comfort follow up story!!

A Sharp, Dressed Man 'verse (Series) by sgam76

I just love this series to bits and while the author considers is a break from heavier subjects, don’t for one second think that means it can’t take a deep dive into its own mythology nor deliver a freaking spectacular tale!  I have loved vampire AU for a long time and this series is pure delight and hits every damn button for me! You want a cool interpretation of vampires? BAM! You want family dynamics to the extreme? BAM AGAIN!  You want exploration of creature angst? BAM BAM BAAAAM!!! I’ve already read through these three or five times and I can promise I will do so again!

The Chemist by TheGracefulBlueCat Sherlock returns to Baker Street and faces detox. But he feels too exhausted and bad to go through it fully conscious, so he - once more - uses his mind palace to distract him with an old case. But due to his drug issues and the tension between him and John things don't work as smoothly as everyone hoped they would, confronting Sherlock and all his friends with more of their demons than they would have liked to.

This writer is absolutely on-point with the writing of these characters - especially Sherlock.  It was primarily through this writing that I felt I got such a good view of why the interpretation of Sherlock as autistic makes sense - but that it is the only truly logical conclusion. Not to mention the fanart @ceruleanmindpalace (same person) creates will leave you breathless!!   

Who You Really Are (Series) by EnglandsGray So very like her, to take something he would otherwise find inconsequential – boring – and transform it into something he couldn’t live without...For Sherlock, after Sherrinford, none of the worlds he inhabits will ever be the same again. He can see a way to rebuild, but he is terrified.  For Molly Hooper, strength is something she feels she is losing by the day, but the time has come for her to stand her ground.

Ohhhh my gosh like deep dive right into the pit of angst! And yet so soft and precious.  This first story of the series is one that I’m still going through and it is unbelievably rich and welling with delicious plot stuff and relationship and hurt/comfort and just - you gotta read iiit!!!

He Is Different, This One by ASilvergirl How would the Serbian "interrogation" go if his captors knew that Sherlock was neuroatypical and had synaesthesia? This is an alternate version of the scene from "The Empty Hearse."

I mean, how could I not love this fic? For the record I’m still not even a little bit tired of fics that explore what may have happened in Serbia.  It is just one of the most unresolved moments in�� the series - going from that damn beating to him walking in on John like I NEED MOOORE!!! And this fic gives me SO much more than I could have expected!  Plus I’m always doubly onboard with a story that depicts Sherlock as neuroatypical.

There are sooooo many more fics I could link!! As it is I’ve been at this for about 3 hours and I’m dropping to the floor.  But to see the rest of the stories I’ve loved please check out my bookmarks!

[goodlucktai]

If you wouldn’t mind,, natsume being pretty in his houzuki costume (maybe with tanuma/r nishimura/ or someone)

x

Suzuki’s eyes are wide and glassy in a way that preludes tears. Nishimura, who is and always will be a sympathetic crier, straightens up from his slouch  across Natsume’s desk in alarm. 

“I’m so sorry!” their classmate wails, clutching handfuls of cheap, lilac-colored fabric. “I was fixing one of the hems at the breakfast table and my little brother poured soup all over it. It’s completely ruined.”

Her twin brother has a look of grim resignation on his face, obviously having dealt with this level of dramatics all morning. Tsuji moves in to begin damage control. 

“Okay, well,” he says helpfully, “maybe it’s not so bad! Maybe we can–”

As soon as the Suzukis unfold the costume, Tsuji’s mouth clicks shut. What looks like a full serving of miso soup has stained the entire front panel. Their little brother couldn’t have done more damage even if he tried. 

The silence stretches for a beat, maybe two. Suzuki’s eyes get even wetter. 

And then Natsume surprises the hell out of the rest of them with a sigh. He rubs the back of his head, mouth twisting as if two parts of himself are at war with each other, before he finally surrenders, “I might have a solution.”

It’s a mark of how much he’s grown in the past two years that he doesn’t flinch away from the collective attention of the entire class when it lands on him a second later. 

“Like, to get the stain out?” Tsuji asks. 

“No, that’s hopeless,” Natsume says apologetically. Suzuki hangs her head. “I just meant, I might have something at home we can use to replace the costume.” 

“Beats trying to sew another together before the play tomorrow,” Nishimura pipes up, always and forever on Team Natsume. He doesn’t even know what’s going on, really, but it doesn’t matter when Natsume slants him a grateful smile. 

“Okay,” Tsuji says. “Let’s ask sensei if we can run by your place. Yes, Nishimura, you can come. Everyone else, run lines!”

It’s late afternoon by now, but the whole school is abuzz with last-minute festival prep. They pass Taki by chance on their way to the lounge and Nishimura slaps her an enthusiastic high-five without breaking stride. The teacher’s lounge is a beacon of peace and serenity in the storm of madness, and Nomiya-sensei slides open the door warily at Tsuji’s knock. 

He was their homeroom teacher when they were first years, and he smiles at the familiar trio they make. Kurusu-sensei is on the phone, but through a game of charades they procure permission to leave campus, and Natsume texts Touko to let her know. 

And that’s how, twenty minutes later, Nishimura finds himself in the kitchen with Touko and Tsuji and Nyanko-sensei, while Natsume reluctantly goes upstairs to put on the replacement costume. Touko insisted he model it for them, so she’d know if she needed to make any alterations before they whisked it away.

Nyanko’s ugly face is exceptionally smug-looking, and that should have been enough to tip Nishimura off that Something Was About To Happen.

As it is, he still inhaled iced tea and spent a fraught ten seconds coughing and hacking it out of his lungs while a distracted Tsuji thumped him half-heartedly on the back.

“Shut up,” Natsume snaps, his face bright pink. He looks– he’s dressed in– 

“Takashi-kun, where on earth did you get this outfit?” Touko asks, hands folded in delight. “I’ve never seen it before.”

“A friend gave it to me,” he mutters. “I sort of… I was in a sort of festival a few years ago. I played the role of the Harvest God.”

“Some play,” says Tsuji, sounding very sorry he missed it. 

Touko is already tugging at the collar of the costume and straightening the shoulders to make it lay flat. There’s an amused, affectionate smile on her face at the Natsume-typical shenanigans playing out in her kitchen. After a moment, Natsume tentatively glances at Nishimura as if to gauge his reaction, one bright brown eye and a sliver of his face all that’s visible from behind the antlered mask. 

It’s the exact second Nishimura was waiting for; he snaps a picture with his cellphone. 

“Nishimura!” Natsume howls. He rounds the table at a run, and Nishimura jumps out of his chair to put Tsuji bodily between them. “Oh, don’t you dare!” 

“I have to show Tanuma!” Nishimura yells back, frantically texting. “I have to!”

There’s a whole lot of commotion at that point, Tsuji trying to extract himself, Nyanko-sensei yowling when he gets underfoot, Touko laughing airily, Natsume and Nishimura wrestling for the phone. 

Natsume is bright with fury when he finds the picture successfully delivered to the group chat and a whole stream of excited texts pouring in even though everyone is supposed to be working on their class projects, and pins Nishimura with his most impressive glare. 

It’s more impressive than usual, because he looks downright intimidating in this beautiful, delicate-looking dress up, like a creature melted off the page of a fairy tale, but it’s also not very impressive at all, because it’s Natsume. 

So Nishimura offers him his brightest, get out of jail free card smile. 

“Hey,” he says, “they’re all gonna see it tomorrow, anyway.”

“Yeah,“ Natsume grits out. “On Suzuki.”

But he can’t stay mad at Nishimura for very long. The standing record was a miserable eleven minutes back when they were fifteen, and Nishimura doesn’t even remember what that fight was about anymore. Sure enough, Natsume’s eyes soften after a minute and he hands the phone back.

“You’re the worst,” he says succinctly. 

“I did you a favor. If Tanuma wasn’t in love with you before, he definitely is now.”

He’s chased out the door by a livid mountain god, but that’s just part of life these days. Besides, running is excellent cardio; since making friends with Natsume, Nishimura’s been in the best shape of his life.

[rrickgrrimes8]

Normality is Death

Chapter Twelve ~ TS-19

masterlist

The next morning, Rick woke up, his eyes catching the bright lights of the room, which immediately blinded him. As he tried to hide away from them with a blanket, he soon realised that his head was banging profusely, which just added to his problems. Bravely, Rick lifted his head out of the blanket attempting to power through the pain, only to see the emptiness of the room. Right away he felt a surge of panic force through him but settled realise that they were, in fact, safe and protected by the C.D.C. Rick sat up grabbing the clothes he'd left lying around, still somewhat fearful that he wasn't with his family. 

Jacey watched from the table they had all sat on the night before as her father shyly walked into the busy room. 

"Hello," he addressed them all, really feeling the effects of his hangover. 

"Morning," Dale cheerily greeted making some of the adults groan. 

Jacey laughed at them before returning her gaze to her father, "Morning dad." 

"Morning, princess," He gladly returned, scruffling her hair and taking the seat next to her. 

"Are you hungover? Mom said you would be," Carl giggled. 

Rick sighed, taking a sip of water, "Mom is right." 

"Mom has that annoying habit," Lori stated as a matter of fact. 

Rick looked down at the table to the bottle of aspirin, only slightly paying attention to Glenn and T-dog's conversation, "Where'd these come from?" 

"Jenner," Lori answered. 

"Could you help me, please?" Rick sweetly requested from his wife after attempting to open it a few times. Lori did as he asked, opening the bottle easily, surprising Rick, which caused Jacey and Carl to laugh. 

"Your back still hurting?" Rick said to his daughter, which she nodded to, remembering how the pain had surfaced this morning more brutal than the day earlier. 

"What's wrong with your back, Jace?" Lori looked to her daughter, who just shrugged, not wanting to get into it. 

Rick took another pill out of the bottle for Jacey, passing it over to her, swallowing it immediately, "Thanks, dad." 

Soon after Shane walked in, much like Rick just had, grabbing the coffee pot and a cup, "Hey." 

"Hey, you feel as bad as I do?" the officer queried. 

"Worse," Shane now sat at the table, next to Jacey, which was another empty space. Lori visually tensed at his presence which no one seemed to notice except Jacey. 

T-dog walked past the group dishing out the eggs to different people and instantly noticed the scratches Lori left that littered Shane's face and neck. "What the hell happened to you? To your neck?" T-dog exclaimed. 

Shane did his best to make a puzzled face and looked around, "must've done it in my sleep." 

"Never seen you do that before," Rick appended, still unaware of the situation between his best friend and his wife. 

"Me neither," he started before bitterly looking at Lori, "Not like me at all." 

Jacey watched as her mother's attention shot down to the food, ignoring Shane. She wondered what he could've done to make her mother so uncomfortable but reminisced on how Lori had said that Shane had upset her the night before. 

Jacey had also yet to say anything about what had happened the night before in the bathroom. She didn't exactly know what they could do to help if she was honest. It wasn't like therapy was an option anymore, and besides being honest about her hallucinations would just add to the stress of the group. How would she even say it? She felt as if she couldn't just tell the whole group that she saw her dead friend last night and watched as he reenacted his final moments. It would sound crazy - well, it is crazy, she told herself. 

When Jacey looked up from her plate, she realised the extra presence in the room of their new acquaintance, Doctor Jenner. He walked in, wearing the same clothes he did the day before smiling softly. Shane and the man exchanged pleasantries as he sat down with the rest of us, tucking into the eggs that T-dog made. 

"Doctor, I don't mean to slam you with questions first thing-," Dale began before Jenner cut him off, "But you will anyway." 

"We didn't come here for the eggs," Andrea deadpanned. 

Leading us all over to the main room, Jenner looked at us all and said to VI, "Give me a playback of TS-19." VI did as he asked, projecting a mess of data or rather that's what Jacey saw it as. Seconds later, the image on the screen changed to one of a brain accompanied with an abundance of information and a large timer filling the bottom of the screen, "Few people ever got a chance to see this, very few." 

Staying close to his sister and parents, Carl asked, "Is that a brain?" 

"A very extraordinary one," Jenner spoke softly to the young child, "Not that it matters in the end. Take us in for E.I.V."  

"Enhanced internal view," VI repeated, processing the request. The display shifted into a view from the side, everyone watched mesmerised. The computer zoomed in further pinpointing a part of the screen that held a large state of colour. "What are those lights?" Shane asked the man as the picture became more detailed. 

"That's a person's life," Jenner stated, Daryl looking around the group confused on what the hell was going on, "Experiences, memories, it's everything. Somewhere in all that wiring, all those ripples of light is you- the thing that makes you unique, what makes you human." 

"You don't make sense ever?" Daryl leaned back on the desk behind him, annoyed. 

"Those are synapses," Jenner told him, "Electric impulses in the brain that carry all messages. They determine everything a person says, does or thinks from the moment of birth to the moment of death." 

"Death? That's what this is, a vigil?" Rick called out. 

"Yes. Or rather the playback of a vigil," Jenner put, dejectedly. 

Andrea walked forward, closer to where Jenner and Rick stood, "This person died? Who?" 

"Test subject 19. Someone who was bitten and infected... and volunteered to have us record the process," the doctor said, before speaking to VI once more, "VI, scan forward to the first event." VI did this, causing the brain to zoom back out the colour that once graced the image gradually was overtaken by blackness. 

"What is that?" Glenn blurted the surprise and curiosity getting the better of him. 

"It invades the brain like meningitis. The adrenal glands hemorrhage, the brain goes into shut down. Then the major organs... Then death. Everything you ever were and ever will be gone." Jacey's eyes stayed glued to the screen, to the person that was tested on. What happened to them, whoever they were, was the same thing that happened to Addie, to Mitchell and to that kind old man. It threw her into a state of morbidity. They died in so much pain indirectly because of her. They had their body shut down, their brain too all because of her. Tears began to fall freely, which came as second nature to Jacey now as she didn't even bother to wipe them. Jacey continued to watch the screen ignoring the chatter amongst the group, some regarding her, which she was happy to shut out. 

"The resurrection times vary wildly. We had reports of it happening in as little as three minutes," Jenner continued, looking at Jacey for a moment and then back to the screen, "The longest we heard of was eight hours. In the case of this patient, it was two hours, one minute... seven seconds." 

I wonder how long it was for Addie she darkly thought. 

Suddenly, the majority of the display began to change darkness branching off further, but a red streak down the base of the brain spawned. 

"It restarts the brain?" Lori inquired. 

"No, just the brain stem. Basically gets them up and moving." Jacey watched the back and forth between her father and the doctor discussing what happens to the person, "Dark, lifeless, dead. The frontal lobe, the neocortex, the human part - that doesn't come back. The you part. Just a shell driven by mindless instinct." 

"That's the part of me that you killed," A voice said to her from her right. Jacey jumped at the sudden voice, the voice of yet another deceased. She closed her eyes, not daring to look at her. 

"Go away," she whispered, trying to not draw attention to herself. 

"It's funny, that's what I said, what I screamed when you got me killed. All I wanted was them to go away! For them to leave! All I wanted was to live, but you took that from me," Jacey brought her hands over her ears, "Why didn't you save me Jacey? Why weren't you there? I needed you, and you left me. You left me alone to die. Just like you did with Mitchell." 

Attempting to distract herself from the booming voice, Jacey turned to the group to listen in to their conversation or even to see if they could hear her too, but Addie's voice stopped her. 

"Leave me alone, please," she whimpered softly. 

"God, you're so selfish, Jacey. How didn't I notice that when I was alive? First, you leave me for your family. Second, you get me killed. Third, you then kill me once more. And now when I'm here, alive, wanting to talk to you once more, you want me gone! You begged me to come back, remember? I don't want to be here. I don't want to be anywhere near you. I'm only here for you!"  

"Stop ignoring me!" Addie violently slammed her hand on the desk closest to Jacey. Yet still not drawing the attention of the others. Now the girl finally looked at Addie, but it wasn't her Addie, it was the dead, monstrous version of her. The version Jacey had killed. The walker jumped to Jacey, ready to take a chunk out of her neck. 

Gasping, Jacey pushed herself away from her, subsequently knocking into Daryl as she did. 

"Watch it," he spat in his gruff voice. 

"W-what? Y-you didn't see that?" Daryl looked at the girl confused, seeing nothing around that would warrant that sort of reaction. 

"What do you mean, kid? What should I have seen?" Jacey shook her head, moving away from Daryl still panicked, "You okay?" 

"M' fine. Jus' fine," She assured him, still out fo breath but glad to see no trace of Addie around. 

"Dr, Jenner," Dale started, really taking Jacey out of her hallucination and back to reality, "I know this has been taxing for you and I hate to ask one more question, but that clock... it's counting down. What happens at zero?" 

"The basement generators. They run out of fuel," Jenner told him. 

"And then?" Her father asked, who thankfully had not seen what had just happened. Jenner ignores him and walks out of the main room, unable to meet any of their eyes. "VI, what happens when the power runs out?" Rick called to the machine. 

"When the power runs out, facility-wide decontamination will occur," VI responded. Promptly following VI's reply many of the group, including her father, ran out. 

[thecreepiestcarrie]

#JusticeforJohnnyDepp: Johnny’s witness statements at a glance (Stephen Deuters, Malcolm Connolly & Trinity Esparza)

Things I Cover in this Post:

May 2014: incident on the plane

March 2015: the finger injury incident in Australia

May 2016: the phone throwing incident, leading to the application for the TRO

AH’s behaviour following her applying for the Temp Restraining Order against Johnny

Elon Musk’s involvement with AH

The witness statements I am featuring highlights from are from Stephen Deuters- personal assistant to Johnny from 2004-2017, working currently as the European president of Johnny’s production company (his texts were included in The Sun’s opening statement, there have been inconsistencies in his story but he claims the messages were altered), Malcolm Connolly-  security guard of Johnny since 2004 and Trinity Esparza-  owner of the Eastern, works as front desk supervisor since 2014.

I’m gonna go in chronological order of these events, which begins with Stephen Deuters statements.

The Sun have cast some doubt over how trustworthy Stephen’s accounts can be, citing text messages, which Stephen says were doctored.  Here we see that Stephen was using Scum’s language back to her to placate her because she was probably unresponsive and unwilling to converse with anyone until they presented themselves as at least a little on her side, I’m assuming. Was it manipulative of him to use the word ‘kick’ in order to gain a different reaction out of Scum? A bit, sure. But from the audio recordings we can see that she is insistent when she thinks she’s making a point, we can even hear how her use of language/the way she refers to certain incidents does not match up with the recollections of others present at the time. I think an important part of Stephen’s statement here is that the authenticity can be proven, beyond a shadow of a doubt. The chairs in the plane were fixed to the ground - facts are facts. What plane doesn’t have furniture fixed to the floor? What kind of crazy health and safety hazard is that?

This is something I wanted to expand upon. Victims of domestic violence can/will hide their injuries in order to protect their abuser and so, one could argue that Scum never disclosed any of her injuries to Stephen because she was either protecting Johnny or she was feeling the shame of being a victim of this violence. Nope. No sale, I’m not buying that. In the first screenshot, we see Stephen talking about how Scum insisted upon he and Jerry (the only two present aside from she and Johnny) that Johnny had kicked her. Continued to insist and, like I said before, she will repeat herself until she gets the response she wants (or gets distracted by something else). She was so quick to yell out to Stephen and Jerry to be her witnesses and Stephen even presented himself to agree with her. Even back in 2014, she was trying to plant the seeds of Johnny being an abuser and she was sharing this to members of his staff. Stephen was still Johnny’s assistant when the divorce/tro happened, so what happened between 2014 to 2016 to make her stop going to him with this false narrative? Was it that she thought this ‘kick’ (it was a tap on her butt from Johnny’s foot, my gf and I do shit like that to each other all the time, calm down Brenda) was strong enough evidence to convince them of her point of view, and everything else after that she didn’t have them bear witness to? (because none of it happened).

Okay now we’re going to move to March 2015 and Australia, namely the incident of Johnny’s finger getting sliced down to the bone, as recounted by Malcolm  Connolly

Malcolm had seen Scum throw objects before, interesting coz Scum (and her party) has accused Johnny of throwing things all about all of the time. She’s again projecting her own behaviour onto him because she’s the perfect abuser. Also, wow, how dare you hurt his perfect fucking face? And then tell him that you love him? She is disgusting.

They immediately came up with a way to cover for Scum because it would create extremely bad publicity for her. Or could it be that, as a man, Johnny was afraid to come forward as a victim of violence because no one would believe him because that’s exactly what’s happening right now. Fake feminists will spout shit like ‘men can’t be abused’ and will blindly believe Scum purely because she’s a woman. The idea of a man being abused is not a part of the accepted mainstream perspective and Johnny was undoubtedly shamed into silence, like so many other victims (regardless of gender) are. It’s an antiquated view that isn’t based in any facts and it’s keeping other male victims silent to protect this idea of men being always strong and to be anything else is pathetic.

Let’s jump ahead to when the shit really hit the fan - March 2016, this is when the allegations began to leak and Johnny was finally cutting himself free of Scum. The following are highlights from the statement of Trinity Esparza.

Hello to Miss Trinity who is an impartial witness, I think this is definitely worth taking note of. Especially when you compare it to who The Sun relied on for their witness statements- 8 people, including Scum herself, who all have a personal connection to her. People who are clearly her friends and have an emotional connection to this case. Trinity is the kind of witness we have been waiting for.

Okay, so the phone throwing incident, which led to the fantastical, moving bruise on Scum’s face, occurred on May 21st of 2016. We’ve all seen it by now because she walked around with it on display for sympathy/pity when she was going to court to apply for that temp restraining order (which was denied, never forget that fact). One would assume that it was visible to the press that day because there was no makeup was on her face. So how come the bruise wasn’t visible closeup four days after the injury supposedly occurred?

Here we have the magical, fantastical, moving bruise - welcome her to the stage, six days after the impact allegedly occurred. This is six days after Rocky took those closeup photos of the injury (the photos they took immediately after Johnny’s alleged ‘temper tantrum’ that left a path of destruction through the apartment... which four separate cops failed to find any trace of).

And here we have some more irrefutable evidence, video surveillance that is time/date stamped. I would like to note that Trinity points out Johnny left the night of the 21st and did not return, so Scum’s bruise only beginning to appear to Trinity on the 27th isn’t due to Johnny returning to abuse her some more. He was entirely gone.

Rocketman returns, clearly Scum was in some kind of relationship with him before Johnny left (emotional affairs are just as real/damaging as a sexual affair).

Wow. Read this paragraph and really think about what kind of twisted fuck Scum is. She has friends at People magazine, a direct line to the press so that she can control how the story comes out.

More of the Rocketman, just enjoying his time in the penthouse owned by Johnny, the penthouse he was forced to flee after continued abuse from his lying wife. It clearly was something she/they were trying to hide because he was only dropping by late at night when Johnny was away. Please note that Scum and Mollusc were publicly dating each other in 2016, online articles place their relationship as ‘beginning’ (I would say beginning to be public would be a more truthful way of putting it) in May of 2016. The exact same month when she began publicly accusing Johnny of abuse. So that’s a nice bit of overlapping there... and by nice, I mean gross and making no fucking sense.

I am really grateful for all of the reblogs and interaction, let’s keep fighting for the truth.

[polymetis-23]

Diary Entry Aug. 30th, 2021

Day 1 - Move In 

    Hey All! Well, I'm not sure anyone is actually out there but I'm gonna use this place to put down my thoughts as time goes on. I feel that it is important to have somewhere to organize the thoughts running around your head, so here we are in the infinite world of the internet. I've just finished moving into my new room in a castle. Well, it isn't actually a castle but it kinda looks like one from the outside so it's a castle. Everything in my room is just perfect. My view of the river is framed by my curtains above a window ledge seat. My photos decorate the walls, pens all lined up according to color, everything just where it needs to be before I start my college career.

I have been given the opportunity to attend a program prior to our freshman orientation called "Explore Mechanical Engineering". Supposedly we are going to make robots to compete in some sport, but I am looking forward to learning what machines are available for students to use. 

    See, I have been sketching the designs of some gear I'd like to make for ages now but I've never had the tools to build them back home. I tried making them out of household materials but it just didn't work - so here I am, at one of the best engineering schools in the world to build my dreams from childhood.

Day 2 - Meeting the EME crew

    First day of the EME program and I've already fallen in love, the people here are great. We have 32 of my fellow classmates and 8 upperclassmen mentors. Well, 7 active upperclassmen mentors, one of them, Alex, just seems real distant and is always disappearing so I guess she doesn’t count. We were split into eight teams of four to work on our robots and thankfully the mentors float between groups so no one group is left without help when needed. These football bots are surprisingly hard to make, but we were given a great introduction to all the tools in the machine shop, most of which we won't be using now but are open for students' personal projects. Unfortunately, today was too group-centric to start working on my gear, but I'm hoping to start tomorrow.

Day 3 - Crossbows V1

    Today I started working on converting my ideas into reality. I started with my wrist crossbow since it is small and I can let it 3D-print in the background. I left breakfast to go to the bathroom (set up the print) and planned to come back for it during our next break. Unfortunately we were working in the shop until then and the whole time I was worried someone would notice the print and wonder what was happening, but either people are used to the mechanical background noise or they're just really blind. Anyway, by the end of the day I had the first version of the crossbow printed! And I also learned that I knew nothing about properly 3D printing as the crossbow was a blob on the end of the print head.

… :( I'll try again tomorrow.

Day 4 - A new friend!

    So I may have been mentally absent from my group a little and that may have been noticed, we're all good though. One of the members, Oliver, decided to hang back before lunch today to see what was going on. He's a nice guy who has apparently been working with robotics since the middle of elementary school (I wish I could've done that), so it is nice to have him on our team. I hate making other people do the work in group projects but his presence has left me with more brain capacity to think about the bow- but I didn't get to work on that today cause we ended up talking forever after lunch. Long story short, I now have a new friend!!

Day 5 - Nearly getting kicked out before school starts

    So close to making the crossbow work, when disaster struck. (sorry, is that too dramatic?) Basically, I was going back to the shop to retrieve my latest print and test it out and I could already tell from a distance that it would be great. The head of the printer was clean, there was a cross bow shaped piece of plastic on the bed and some rubber bands in . No one was there so I headed for the machine when I heard from behind me, "What are you doing?" It was that counselor who kept disappearing - Alex? She made me jump, doesn't she know it's not cool to sneak up on people like that? So inconsiderate. Anyway I told her I wanted to perfect my robot before the competition tomorrow and hoped she bought it, otherwise I'd be expelled before classes even started. Talk about a world record. I like being the best, but this is one area I would rather fail in. 

Day 6 - Pew Pew (the crossbow works!)

    It works! Okay, well it doesn't actually work, but it looks cool! Everyone was distracted today with the competition, although only one person from each team was needed to operate the robot so I was able to disappear pretty easily. I retrieved the crossbow that had ended up getting left overnight and snuck out to find somewhere to test it. First I looped the rubber bands I brought with me on the pegs I made and got ready to nock the first bolt. I set up some old newspaper I found in the shop as a target so I didn't leave a mark on the wall. And the arrow flew! … right into the wall about a meter to the left of the newspaper and left a small mark on the wall, but I don't think anyone will notice. I tried a few more times mimicking a fight scene with jumps and dives and such before I realized this was going to be a lot harder than I expected. List of problems with crossbow design:

Not enough power

Aim is terrible (or am I just bad?)

Too small to practically load

Where do I store the arrows?

3D printed limbs are brittle (no I most definitely didn't break them…)

Fingers too weak to properly load crossbow

… I'm sure there's more but I need to sleep before orientation starts. See everybody next week!!

[flightfoot]

Ladycat Ch. 8

AO3

Chat Noir and Master Fu stared at the record player on the floor, secret compartment empty.

“Well, this isn’t good,” Chat Noir stated.

Master Fu nodded mutely.

----

Nino examined the video, trying to figure out exactly where to make his edit. 

Let’s see… need to try and cover most of its body without concealing its feet and…

There!

He adjusted the size of the pink poptart, dragging it over to the gray kitten’s body. 

A few splices later and a new nyan cat video graced the internet, courtesy of the bouncy kitten who’d sprung all over the city a few hours earlier.

Sighing, Nino checked his phone. He frowned. “This isn’t like her,” he muttered, worried.

It was FAR from the first time he’d texted his girlfriend and not gotten a response for awhile. But usually just checking the news would tell him why she hadn’t messaged him.

This time several hours had gone by without a response, and with no clear reason behind the delay.

He didn’t like it.

And with Ladybug’s disappearing act added onto that? 

He was seriously considering biking over to the Cesaires, uninvited or not. If something bad was going down he wanted to be there at Alya’s side. 

Especially with what happened on Heroes Day…

He shuddered. Seeing her take that arrow for him, seeing her twisted, her love turned to hate, and her subsequent akumatization was one of the worst experiences of his life. He’d had nightmares about it every night since, and he doubted it was going away any time soon.

A news alert popped up on his phone.

Ah! So there was an akuma after… all…

He blinked.

HAWKMOTH was active?! Again?!

Was this going to become a regular thing?!

And the cat by his side… was that an akuma? Or one of those new creatures, like that purple moth that blew them all away last time they faced him?

*knock knock*

“GAH ah ah- oh,” Nino startled, only calming down once he saw the culprit. “Dude, don’t scare me like that!” 

He opened the window for Chat Noir, expecting the cat-themed hero to simply jump through.

Instead he deposited some random old man in Nino’s room first.

“Um… dude, who’s this?” Nino asked, pointing to the stranger.

Chat rubbed the back of his neck. “This is gonna be a long story…”

Nino stared.

And blinked.

And stared some more.

Chat Noir - wait he’s ADRIEN, what the hell?! - waved his hand in front of Nino’s face. “Nino?”

Nino shook his head. “Sorry, dude. That was just… a lot.”

Adrien laughed bitterly. “Tell me about it.”

Nino winced. 

“Don’t worry about me, I already had my freak out over Father’s actions,” Adrien hastened to add, noticing Nino’s expression. 

He really thought that was enough? “I don’t think this is the kind of thing you can just get over in a few hours.”

“We came here for a specific reason,” the old man spoke up, taking off his bracelet.

A bracelet that suddenly looked very familiar.

“Nino Lahiffe, will you bear the Miraculous of the Turtle once more?”

-----

A few minutes later, Chat Noir and Carapace bounded towards the Agreste Mansion.

Fu was currently staying with Nino’s parents. Turns out “Chat Noir’s dropped by and needs to leave this elderly man somewhere safe for awhile while I help him with something” was all the explanation they needed before sitting him down and piling food onto his plate. 

Chat Noir’s baton beeped. He stopped, opening it up and expanding the screen so Carapace could see.

“RENA!”

The heroine blinked, then smiled. “Miss me?”

“I was worried! You’re never silent for this long!”

She chuckled. “I’ve seen too many movies to risk leaving my phone on while I’m sneaking around.”

Her smile fell, resuming a serious expression. “You two need to get over to the Agreste Mansion right away, I’m on the second floor. I found Nathalie… and the Peacock Miraculous.”

-----

Looking at her resting on so many pillows, Adrien would’ve thought Nathalie looked peaceful.

After seeing his mother in her own magically-induced coma though? He couldn’t quite make himself see it that way. Especially after learning that she’d used the same broken miraculous that had evidently put his mother to sleep.

An arm came around his shoulder. 

“How’re you holding up?” Nino asked him softly.

“I…”

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Nathalie. 

Intellectually, he knew that she would probably be fine if she stayed here.

But part of him was still scared.

Scared that she’d vanish or die or… or just leave him in some way.

“Do you need a hug?” 

Adrien nodded mutely, still not taking his eyes off his unofficial caretaker. Off of the woman he suspected (and had been hoping) would become his stepmother.

Nino embraced him, squeezing him tightly, but being conscious of Adrien’s line-of-sight, careful not to get between him and Nathalie.

The pressure broke something within Adrien. 

He sniffled once.

Then twice.

And finally broke down.

It took a few more minutes to get through it this time, Nino gently stroking his hair all the while.

At last he looked up, eyes still rimmed red. He took a shaky breath. “We- we need to get the Peacock Miraculous back to Fu. And- and I want to get Nathalie to a hospital - to somewhere safe.”

Nino’s eyebrows drew together. “What about-?”

Adrien shook his head. “I can’t move Mom. I don’t know what’s going on with her, it might not be safe. I HATE leaving her there, but- but I’d hate accidentally hurting her even more.”

“I can take the Miraculous to Fu,” Rena chimed in. “It’s not like I don’t know where Nino lives, and I can hide myself better than you two can.”

Chat nodded. “Th-thanks. We’ll head back afterwards, so just be on the look out.”

------

Rena Rouge slipped through Nino’s bedroom window.

Hm… you know, if she got to keep her Miraculous, she had the feeling this wouldn’t be the only time she got to do that…

She shook her head. Focus Alya! You can think about sneaking over to see your boyfriend later!

Besides, it’s not like she actually NEEDED to sneak over. She was more than welcome at the Lahiffes, just as Nino was treated as one of the family over at her own house.

Still… sneaking over held a certain allure to it. It just felt exciting to get together in secret, even if it was something they could do normally.

“Rena Rouge? Where are the others?”

She jumped about two feet.

So the whole “don’t get distracted by your own thoughts” plan had failed.

“They’re fine, just taking Nathalie to a hospital before heading over here.” She fiddled with her flute, opening up a hidden storage compartment within it. These weapons were absurdly versatile. “I was assigned with bringing this back to you right away.”

Fu leaned in, getting a closer look at what she had in her hand.

“The Peacock Miraculous-!” he gasped, looking shocked… and a bit scared?

Maybe because it was broken? It’d already put one person in a coma and may have hurt a second one after all.

Gingerly he took it, as if afraid it would leap over and bite him. 

“Are… you okay?” she asked.

He sighed. “Miraculous should never be misused. This one especially. I learned that the hard way.”

Wait, what? “You’ve used it before? What happened? Does it have anything to do with how Hawkmoth got ahold of it? How-?”

She stopped, noticing Fu’s pained expression. “I- I would prefer not to talk about it. Please. Not unless I have to. I made a big mistake when I was young, one I cannot take back. One that I’ve had to live with every day since then. I do not wish to relive it while I’m awake, when I already cannot escape it while I sleep.”

Her stomach curdled with guilt. “...Sorry.”

He shook his head. “It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known.”

This wasn’t the first time this had happened though. Sometimes she got started talking, asking questions, investigating, and it took a little while for her to realize that the other people around her were getting uncomfortable or bored, or that something else was going on with them that she needed to pay attention to instead.

Luckily everyone in class was pretty understanding. Most people had had the experience of getting really excited or concentrated on one thing, to the exclusion of everything else. It was just a little more pronounced with her than with most of the others - though Max could give her a run for her money, with how utterly engrossed he ended up being in whatever project or activity he decided to work on.

Fu examined the brooch. His eyes lit up. “I think I can repair this.”

Alya blinked. “Wait, seriously?!”

He nodded. “So long as I have the right tools and potions at least.”

“...Would these happen to be materials the Lahiffes have on hand?”

“How do you feel about retrieving some things from my shop while I start?”

------

Chat Noir and Carapace climbed back through Nino’s window, having dropped Nathalie off successfully.

Luckily people didn’t usually question two superheroes when told to keep an eye on a woman in an enchanted sleep.

Adrien thought about telling them that she had been working with Hawkmoth, but couldn’t quite make himself do it. Not when she’d apparently objected to his latest plan, with his father even knocking her out to ensure she couldn’t turn on him.

She still shouldn’t have covered up for him all this time, nor helped him near the end of Heroes Day, but… but he just couldn’t make himself turn her in. 

Laughter thundered from the direction of the living room.

He and Nino looked at each other questioningly. “Do your parents like watching comedies?”

Nino shook his head. “Haven’t found a lot of good ones.”

They entered the living room.

“Have there always been this many bottles and…” Adrien picked up a round flat object that had fallen on the ground. “Gongs in here?”

“Oh, you’re just in time!” Fu greeted them, looking happier than Adrien had ever seen him. 

Not that he’d seen him very often.

“In time…?” Adrien asked, confused.

“We’ve been working on fixing the Peacock Miraculous for the last few hours,” an exhausted-looking Alya told them, leaning against a nearby doorway. “Repairing Miraculous takes some weird things.”

“Does this have anything to do with the laughter we heard earlier?” Adrien asked.

Fu nodded. “A tear of joy! Ladybug helped me discover that secret ingredient.”

The mood instantly dimmed.

“Any word on her?” Adrien asked.

Alya grimaced. “A few sightings, but no havoc just yet. I think they’re trying to find us first instead of baiting us out. Hawkmoth doesn’t have a lair to retreat to this time, no safety net if he fails. I can see why he’d be more cautious.”

“At least it buys us some time,” Adrien noted.

“Speaking of that…” Alya turned to Fu. “Is it ready?”

He nodded, carefully unwrapping a small cloth bundle.

“The Peacock Miraculous…?” Adrien said.

It looked a little different from before, the colors more dark blue and purple rather than the traditional peacock coloring from before.

“This is hardly the first time a Miraculous has been damaged,” Fu said. “Luckily the Grimoire contained detailed repair instructions.”

“So then…?”

“It can be used safely now.”

Adrien grinned, moving to put it on. Fu stopped him, holding up his hand. “Just because it can be used without harming the wielder does not mean it should be used carelessly. The consequences of creating a sentimonster without firmly understanding what you put into it can be disastrous.”

“What do you mean?” Adrien asked. “Doesn’t a sentimonster just do what you want?”

Fu shook his head. “Sentimonsters are created based off of emotions. The Peacock Miraculous wielder’s explicit intentions play a large role in determining what kind of creature is formed, what it’s like, but their hidden emotions can distort those intentions. 

Fu fiddled with his hands, making motions to turn something on his wrist, stopping when he realized he no longer had the Turtle Miraculous. “If you are say, hungry when you make the sentimonster, and… and angry at the Miraculous, at what they’ve done to your life, you can create a creature that- that will stop at nothing to devour all the Miraculous and anyone who gets in the way of that goal.”

Judging by the way Fu’s voice was shaking, Adrien doubted this was purely a hypothetical.

He may not be the only one coping with losing people.

Gently he reached out, putting his hand on Fu’s shoulder. “Thank you for telling me. Do you have any advice?”

Fu took a moment to compose himself. “Do not concentrate on hate or destruction. Try to set your mind to something else instead. Something that’s less likely to go out of control.”

That… may be difficult. Whenever he thought of his father, betrayal and fear roiled in his gut. 

If he was going to create a sentimonster, he needed something to counteract his feelings towards his father, even if the sentimonster was meant to help him defeat Hawkmoth.

What calmed him? Made him feel safe?

Ah!

“Claws in!”

Plagg spiralled out of the ring. Adrien threw him a piece of cheese, then rummaged through a different pocket.

Nino blinked. “You really weren’t kidding about carrying Marinette’s Lucky Charm with you everywhere, huh?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Marinette made it, how could I not?” 

Nino gave him an exasperated look. Adrien couldn’t understand why, the logic seemed obvious to him.

Alya just smirked.

His friends had weird reactions whenever he talked about Marinette.

“I don’t think we can do this alone,” Adrien said, putting on the brooch. “It took the three of us, PLUS Ladybug and Queen Bee to have a shot last time, and Hawkmoth still has Panther with him. We’re gonna need some help.

Duusu, spread my feathers!”

Adrien transformed, his skin turning blue, a blue tuxedo tail coat replacing his usual clothing.

Holding up Marinette’s Lucky Charm, he concentrated.

We need help.

The three of us can’t do this by ourselves.

We need something strong, something that can turn the tides of battle, even when things seem hopeless, like Ladybug does.

His eyes locked on the four-leaf clover on the bracelet.

Marinette gave him this bracelet when he kept on losing to her. Truthfully he knew that the bracelet had nothing to do with her wins, but the kind smile she gave him as she handed it to him, her soft voice as she told him to just try playing with it…

Whenever he saw the charm, he remembered that moment.

How she’d just earnestly wanted him to feel better, even if it was just over losing a match.

She was so smart and brave too. How could he forget the way she helped with Evillustrator, volunteering to go on a date with an akuma? Heck, she was even the one who figured out how to escape Evillustrator’s trap!

If the sentimonster could be just a little like her, they might have a chance.

He infused the feather with his emotions, touching it to the lucky charm.

A purple mass began to form in front of him, lengthening out, forming five off-shoots that began to resemble…

...Was that a human shape?

[shirtlesssammy]

2x11: Playthings

Then:

These brother have seen some things

Now:

This episode starts off real comforting. Aside from the exposition of a family moving out of an old inn, we’re greeted to a room FULL of creepy old dolls. A show doesn’t even have to try when dolls are thrown in the mix. The room of dolls belongs to Tyler, one of the little girls in the house. She has a dollhouse --a replica of the inn-- that would have made a younger me faint with jealousy. 

The dolls in this dollhouse move around mysteriously though. One moment she places a doll in a rocking chair, and the next he’s sprawled on the floor in front of the stairs --head on backwards. 

She hears a scream and comes out to see her mom calling 911, and the moving guy near death on the floor in front of the stairs. 

(Sidenote: Anybody remember reading The Dollhouse Murders by Betty Ren Wright as a kid? I loved that book.) 

The brothers, meanwhile, are trying to find Ava. Typical Sam can’t just sit and spin his wheels, and wants to work a case about deaths at an inn in Connecticut. Dean wonders why Sam doesn’t want to wallow --”more angst and droopy music and staring out the rainy windows”. AND I HAVE TO STOP AND POINT OUT THAT DEAN HAS DONE ALL OF THIS WHEN HE’S THOUGHT CAS DEAD. Projection looks awful on you Dean. 

They get to the inn and Dean’s pumped about working a haunted house case ---possibly running into Fred and Daphne. Bby boy eventually DID run into Fred and Daphne and I have EMOTIONS. (But, like, real ones. Our little show got a crossover with Scooby-doo!? It’s still surreal to think about sometimes.) 

Sam notices a powerful charm warding off enemies outside the inn. 

The brothers check into the inn. Susan, the owner, tells them that the inn is closing and asks if they’re in the area “antiquing”. Dean readily agrees to go along with their cover. She then asks if they want a king sized bed. Sam corrects her and she apologizes, but poor, poor, repressed, stressed Dean can’t let it go and asks her, “What’d you mean we ‘looked the type’?” 

They get room 237 --and Dean, film buff and noted Stephen King fan-- has no reaction. Boo. 

Sam reviews the deaths so far: a realtor and mover. Someone doesn’t want this family to leave. Dean is more focused on the vibe he’s sending out to the world that makes them think he’s into dudes. Sam succinctly sums it up by saying, “Well, you are kinda butch. Probably think you're overcompensating.” Dean’s nervous reaction kills me every time. 

Walking around the inn later, Sam finds more hoodoo markings. They then go to talk with Susan. In order to talk with her more, Dean sees her collection of antique dolls and tells her that Sam’s a collector.

Sam checks out the dollhouse and notices the doll with the twisted head. Tyler comes in and Sam asks about it. She said that she found it like that. She says that neither Maggie or her would do that because Grandma Rose would be mad. These are all her toys. 

Grandma Rose is upstairs, in a wheelchair, and Sam is forbidden to talk to her about the doll collection. The brothers set to digging up dirt on the grandma. 

Susan learns that the new owners plan on demolishing the hotel. 

Tyler has a tea party while the visiting attorney sits on his bed. There’s a doll sitting on the dollhouse bed as well. Both the dollhouse door and real door to the attorney’s room open. Tyler looks over to the dollhouse and sees the doll hanging from the ceiling. 

The doll’s real life counterpart is likewise occupied. 

Sam watches as the guy is hauled away in a bodybag. Dean asks Susan about what happened. 

He then finds Sam, who is REALLY DRUNK. Sam’s upset he couldn’t save the guy --and Ava (lol, are you sure about that one Sam?). Sam’s deeply upset about Dean’s earlier confession about saving him or killing him. In a moment of clarity, Dean tells Sam that John should never have laid that on them. Sam gets a promise from Dean eventually though. 

Dean heads to the bar and finds Sherwin (the butler?). 

He asks Sherwin about the history of the hotel. Sherwin walks Dean around and shows him pictures of the family in “happier days.” Sherwin notes that Rose will have to live in a senior facility and the only home she’s ever known will be demolished. They look at old pictures, and Rose’s nanny also sported a hoodoo symbol on her pinafore. 

The next morning, Sam’s worshipping at the porcelain throne. Dean checks that Sam doesn’t remember his promise to kill him and then proceeds to tease him mercilessly, Big Brother Style ™. 

The Winchesters head up to talk to Rose, who lives in the attic not-at-all-creepily. (Note to self: live in the attic when I’m extremely old and infirm and invest in a good, old, creaky rocker.) Rose can’t talk, which seems to rule out hoodoo on her part (which requires motor and speech control).

Susan finds them and kicks them the hell out. 

Back inside, the two girls are playing together and not packing. Susan tells her daughter that her friend (!!!) is IMAGINARY!!! Yesssss creepy ghost child time, baby. 

Susan is 100% DONE with Tyler’s buddy Maggie and tells her she’s too old for an imaginary friend. (Somewhere, young Sam is shouting HOW DARE.)

Later, Tyler plays with her dollhouse when the swing on the swingset starts to move.

A cold breeze blows across Susan as she packs the car and she notices the swings moving on the real swingset outside. The teeter-totter starts to move and that’s DEFINITELY NOT THE WIND. While she’s distracted by the haunted playground, her car heads straight for her. It’s R-E-D-R-U-M time. 

Sam saves Susan just in time. They all head straight for the booze. Dean tells her their theories: they thought it was hoodoo but now their money’s on ghost. In response, Susan takes a big swig of liquor. #Relatable

Now their theory is that Grandma Rose was using hoodoo to ward off a malicious spirit, but couldn’t once she had a stroke. Sam tells Susan that she needs to clear the house, including her two daughters. RECORD SCRATCH. Susan only has ONE daughter! They race off to find Tyler and her imaginary friend.

Upstairs, Maggie confronts a terrified Rose. 

Maggie’s going to keep Tyler for herself. MuaHAHAHAHA. “We can have lots of tea parties. Forever and ever and ever….”

Upstairs, the adults are met with a horrifying scene of unbelievable carnage.

For Someone Had Fun with Eyeballs Science:

Susan remembers that her mother had a sister. Would you say a………..twisted sister? Maggie died in the pool and her ghost now haunts the place. 

Cut to Maggie and Tyler dangling from the balcony railing over the pool. Tyler’s scared, but Maggie promises that after she jumps they can be together forever. The adults arrive at the pool just in time to see Maggie hurl Tyler into the pool. Tyler gets tangled in the plastic pool cover (SHUDDER) and breaks free only for Maggie to duck her back underwater. 

Suddenly, Maggie hears another voice! It’s a young girl calling for “Margaret.” Maggie fades out. Sam breaks the glass at last and dives into the pool to save Tyler. 

He hauls Tyler out and to the edge of the pool. There’s a lot of slow motion sorrowful looks between the adults (instead of instant first aid smh) when Tyler spits out water! She’s alive! Tyler reports that Maggie’s gone from the pool. 

Up in the attic, Maggie talks to Rose. They’re striking some kind of deal in order for Maggie to let Susan and Tyler go. “You kept me away for so long,” Maggie says. “I thought you didn’t love me anymore.” She caresses Rose’s cheek.

A little while later, Susan screams from the attic room. Rose is dead! The paramedics declare it another stroke. (A stroke of MURDER.) After Tyler and Susan head out for their new not-at-all-traumatized life, the Winchesters head off as well.

(I planned to put in a caption where Dean comments on Sam getting some MILF action and then Dean just comes right out and SAYS it right in the goddamned script.)

At the Impala of Feelings, they talk about the good times: the case is solved! And...the bad times. Sam reminds Dean of his promise to kill him. 

Back in the house everything is super fine and extra great. Two girls play in the family apartments while Maggie’s doll looks on fondly. 

The Dollquote Murders:

Son of a bitch. … Maggie said it first!

I just figured after Ava there'd be, you know, more angst and droopy music and staring out the rainy windows…

You are kinda butch. Probably think you're overcompensating

You're bossy. And short

That car didn't try to run you down by itself, okay? I mean, I guess it did, technically

Think you could have hooked up some MILF action there, bud

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 

[celestialselfdiscovery]

hey! great blog, its really inspiring and just awesome. might u have any tips on how to make a new reality posible in which u dont focus on what puts u down anymore an share them if u do?

You have a very good question and I appreciate you asking; the answer is incredibly simple. More simple than people realize.... but today with this answer- that will all change. Suppose your goal is to create a new reality, but you also do not want to focus attention on what’s negative- that is a great intention, and the answer to your question is within your question!! Every human being has what they call “a subconscious mind” - more and more evidence is coming out from quantum physicists (scientific research/studies) that proves that since everything in the world is made out of energy particles, and energy particles are easily manipulated. Matter/solid objects are also made out of energy particles. Like water for example, water can be solid like ice, or invisible/see through/untouchable like vapor, energy comes in many forms. Thoughts and emotions are forms of energy too. How does this tie into the subconscious mind you may ask? The subconscious mind is a data bank that collects/records/recorded everything that you have ever been exposed to in your life ever since you’re born, everything you see with your eyes, everything you hear with your ears, everything you think about, everything you feel emotionally, everything you say out of your mouth, everything you aren’t paying attention to but you’re exposed to, the music lyrics you’re listening to, the things you read on the news or stories, every single bit of information from your environment is being absorbed into your subconscious as a form of HYPNOSIS, meaning EVERYTHING in life is a subliminal download to program your subconscious mind. Why does this matter? Because everything you are living out/experiencing RIGHT NOW- IS THE MANIFESTATION/creation of data/info that’s been downloaded into your subconscious mind.  The future (every second that occurs is the future) is created based on what’s being absorbed through your subconscious. Do you know what that means? It means that YOU have ALL the power and control to decide on what YOU want to create in YOUR experience/reality/life/future by YOU deciding on what YOU want to focus your attention on. It’s really that simple, if something doesn’t make you feel good- your intuition is screaming “don’t give attention to that!! stop it!! focus on what makes you happy!!” - when you are feeling good, I call THAT “following your intuition”. Feeling bad=not following your intuition. If something makes you feel bad, there is NO reason to give ANY attention to things that make you feel that way. STOP feeding that energy, the more you feed into that negative energy- THE MORE YOU ARE CREATING IT INTO YOUR REALITY. In a book by Abraham Hicks I’ve read this sentence stood out to me “Worrying is using your imagination to create what you DON’T want.”  You know the best part? Your subconscious mind CANNOT tell from what is called a “truth” or a “lie”. It’s ONLY purpose is to RECORD->CREATE->RECORD->CREATE(repeat). You do NOT need to feed your subconscious mind with “Truths” that DO NOT make you feel good. If you wanted a puppy, and saying “I don’t have a puppy” just because it’s true even thought it doesn’t make you feel good- you are programming your subconscious mind to create MORE situations in your life where you STILL don’t have a puppy. If you practice saying to yourself, thinking about, imagining how good it feels “I have a puppy” (even if it’s what people would call a “lie” ) - the subconscious mind downloads THAT information, energy particles that you’re emitting from those thoughts and emotions are manipulating energy in the universe (like wifi internet or tv particles for the tv to have something projected or the radio to hear music) to create a circumstance for you where you have manifested a puppy into your life!! Don’t say stuff like “I need a chair” when you want a chair either, because by saying “I need” it’s implying that you STILL “NEED” that (I used chair as an example but you can use money, or love, or a job, etc in the example to get the point). The subconscious mind doesn’t know the difference between you joking either, so never joke to yourself by saying “haha I’m so dumb” because you will unintentionally stummon situations in your life where you’re going to feel exactly that way- “dumb”.     All of this really means is the best tip is that you should do your best to pay attention to 1) what makes you feel good vs what doesn’t. Then ONLY do what makes YOU feel good. 2) Pay attention to what you allow your subconscious mind to get exposed to, if you’re listening to a song and it has negative lyrics about negative circumstances- you’re literally hypnotizing your subconscious mind by listening to those lyrics to create negative situations/feelings. Even if the song is a Bop, if the lyrics are shitty, then it’s a song to drop. Reading negative news ONLY PERPETUATES MORE NEGATIVITY INTO THE UNIVERSE BECAUSE PEOPLE ARE PROGRAMMING THEIR MINDS WITH THE NEGATIVE INFORMATION , FEELING NEGATIVE ABOUT IT, AND HUMANS ARE BEING USED (I know this will come off as conspiracy, but governments/positions of corrupt power KNOW this for centuries) Humans are being USED to create/perpetuate more negativity and destruction in the world. (side note, please get your news from https://www.goodnewsnetwork.org ) 3) Once you are more aware of your own thoughts, your own feelings, and you’re taking action steps to program your OWN subconscious by speaking/saying/talking about things that you love, by reading things that you love and make you feel good, by looking at pictures of things that you love and make you feel good, anything where you are using your thoughts, ears, eyes, voice to program positive things into your subconscious mind is a form of SELF HYPNOSIS because you are programming your subconscious mind like a computer, by you making sure you download information that ONLY MAKES YOU FEEL GOOD-  through repetition, your subconscious will eventually use your NEW POSITIVE PROGRAMS to override OLD UNFILTERED previously downloaded information from when you used to live in what I call “auto pilot mode” and THIS is the REAL way to use “Law of Attraction”. “Law of Attraction” is just a froofroo la di da word that symbolizes what is NATURALLY SCIENTIFICALLY IN NATURE OCCURRING SINCE THE BEGINNING OF HUMANITY. 4) Because you’re aware of your thoughts, program your own subconscious and you only follow what makes you feel good, if you begin to notice for some reason “negative thoughts would randomly pop up” and you recognize that it can’t possibly be your own thoughts because you have set the intention to only think about positive things- then you must know that those negative thoughts are NOT your own but energetic interference from energetic (low vibration) beings that feed off of negative human energy, these beings exist among humans in their own dimension that (for now) is invisible to the human eye, some people call them demons/ghosts, but what they really are is one of the races of multidimensional aliens. (there are high vibration aliens and there are low vibration ones that work with corrupt positions of powers such as governments) If you’ve ever seen the show “adventures with Rick and Morty” and have seen their portal gun- life is something similar to that. (There are multiple dimensions and multiple timelines and multiple dimensions of each timeline etc) Life is surely stranger than fiction for sure.... Anyway!! These nasty ass low vibe aliens feed off of negative energy (like in the movie Monsters Inc, the monsters use kids screams (the kids fear) as electricity for their world. But to discover that higher vibration laughs are a lot more powerful (very symbolic undertone in the movie)) That’s why I brought up the conspiracy about how humans are intentionally being used to create more negativity because these low life filth demons feed off of the negativity.  These negative beings are capable of using telepathy to attempt to program your subconscious mind by telepathically planting negative thought formations into your mind (some people call these, intrusive thoughts, in worst cases, this manifests as schizophrenia ) Depression is a great example of possession/or a low vibe alien/demon attached to a human host utilizing the human as a battery pack by continuing to feed negative thoughts to the human host, the human host accepts these thought forms as their own, thus programming their subconscious to create more things to be negative about in their life. (I used to struggle with depression/suicidal thoughts for years until someone else told me about the existence of these alien beings and how the subconscious mind works and I INTENTIONALLY focused on making sure I destroyed/eliminated negative thoughts as soon as they would try to enter my mind and I would IMMEDIATELY replace the negative thought with positive thoughts to “exorcise” the entity.) If the negative entity cannot control you, and you do not emit negative emotions/energy, then the negative energy literally cannot feed off you!! However, if you’re around other people and they don’t control themselves like you do- they have the potential to have entities already feeding off them to attempt to poke your buttons/provoke you back into negativity in order to jump from one human host to another (you). Don’t let those dirty bastards distract you from creating your lovely new reality of positive possibilities!! Love you!!

[meet-me-in-the-kitchen]

the reader passes out as soon as boyfriend!harry comes home from tour because she has been studying day and night to finish all her assignments before harry returns

EXHAUSTEDLY IN LOVE

It had been months since Harry had come home. Months spent sleeping on his side of the bed, burying her face in one of his pillows to catch his scent. Nights spent wearing his shirts, waiting for his calls, and settling with the recording of his voice during the voicemail message, in moments when she especially had missed him.

The point was, it had been ages since she’d seen her boyfriend, and Y/N is determined not to let coursework take away more time spent with him.

So, she scrambled to get it all done, in order to have more time for Harry’s kisses, cuddles, and love. She hadn’t felt him in so long, so without hesitation she’d buried herself under assignments, final projects, and studying for major examinations that would take place the following weeks. She started a few days before Harry was to get off the plane, starting with basic reviewing and taking creative breaks by writing and proofreading final essays and projects.

Somewhere along the way, she’d traded meals (the ones Harry had made with his own hands and left frozen for her in the fridge, because she can’t cook for shit and he’s too fond of her to let her become sick by eating burnt toast) for processed food, muffins and coffee. She stayed in their living room, where she had spread all of the work so it lid in unorganized heaps and papers scattered on the ground she could somehow navigate through. One half haphazardly crumpled and tossed ball of foil paper she’d eaten a muffin from had quickly turned to a couple, a dozen, and then bred to the point where it had escalated north to a much greater number. Wrappers littered the floor, despite her prior hate for disgusting messes rather than comfortable messes, she didn’t care. Coffee cups lay strewn aside, muffins half eaten, eyes bleary and nose sniffling a little from congestion.

The messiness crept up on her. Parts of her life began falling off, forming an eclectic debris that dribbled gradually into every corner. Empty sushi containers, Diet Coke cans, sweaters, sweatshirts (Harry’s), socks, her running shoes...when was the last time she’d washed her hair?

However, she really wanted to see Harry properly and get those assignments finished, so she writes that essay.

There is the thesis, which she painstakingly rewrites in every paragraph or else the teacher will say something like ‘???’. There is her restating the first bit of the thesis statement again, maybe with a different word or two. There’s that one character she does remember vaguely, and a purposefully verbose depiction of them so she can take up as much space as possible.

Transitional sentences she shambled together out of the remains of her hopes and dreams.

A rambling, off-topic sentence which probably should have been deleted but it's four in the morning and she honestly doesn’t care and I need those full ten pages. A drastic shift in the paper where for five seconds she actually thinks she knows what she’s talking about. There’s her analysis of a quote in which she tries to explain why it supports her thesis like explaining to a small child why the wind blows. It just does, okay, but I'm only going to be able to express this in really confused and circular speech. Here's her mentioning that character again, but this time she’s talking also about a second character. She secretly hopes she never has to take a test on this stuff. Concluding line. Transitional sentence, but with a vague sense of foreboding and dread attached to it. Her sore hands are starting to slow down. She has now grown to resent the two characters she has been talking about, and she sincerely hopes they both die in a fire, because literally nothing interesting happens to them; literally nothing interesting happened in this book whatsoever, but here's the analyzation of a quote dedicated to them.

When she’s sent in the last assignment and reviewed her brain numb, she feels wonder. Such magic. Somewhere in between killed-someone and just-saved-a-baby-dolphin. Euphoric. Such hope that she swears she just felt a rib snap. Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah. She falls back on their bed.

Then, there’s fatigue. Tiredness gnaws at her aching bones, her head heavy, and body feeling unusually cold. A little drowsy, too, because she’d grown alarmed at the distracting dry coughs she was having while reviewing macro economics two, and had downed a bunch of foul smelling (expired?) Tylenol, like taking shots.

Her fingers were blistered from writing down all of the information she remembers from anatomy class for the examination, because it’s been scientifically proven that if you physically write the information down, it’s easier to remember. She’s never been one to like organization, and seeing girls with carefully handwritten tumblr study notes makes her furious, because they’re so slow and her mind works so fast, she’s too impatient and unable to catch her train of thought before it flees the scene, and write in perfect times new roman, size twelve, double spaced and in gel pen shades of fuchsia. It comes to bite her in the ass when she witnesses the disastrous scene of flashcards and sushi and bad handwriting and realizes she must clean it up.

All in all, she wasn’t feeling her best, but Harry was here, and it would definitely pass, right?

—

The night came when Y/N drove to Heathrow airport to pick her boyfriend up, excited and eager to have him back, but also suppressing the low throbbing in her head. It was later at night, so rush hour has passed and traffic was laid back, and the crowd in the airport had significantly dwindled.

We’ll have a few moments privately to ourselves before the press come, she thought, content and dreaming of him.

The time comes when the lights start flashing, and she knows that he’s back.

“Harry,” she breathily laughed, biting her lips, and trying to blink back the welling tears in her eyes as she catches sight of his sparkling forest green eyes from behind the transparent barrier between them. He runs off of the plane, and she runs to him at the same time. It’s like a scene in the movie, before her body collided with his, his comforting, striking scent engulfing her and his strong arms wrapping around her, catching her as she jumped up into his arms. He buries his own face into her neck, breathing in her girlish scent. It’s a scene from a Lifetime movie. They both cry.

“I missed you so much.”

“I missed you more,” he whispered the promise, before sealing their lips in their first kiss in months.

There’s a lot to say behind that kiss. In his head, mainly. Questions and worry that had been intensifying every waking moment to the nights prior to this one, when he had called Y/N and she had responded hours and sometimes days later with a text saying she was fine. It had been so long since they’d had a proper conversation, and it would be a lie if Harry hadn’t thought the distance was affecting them. Causing her to care less. Now, he was confused. In love, definitely, but confused at how the woman who had seemingly avoided him for days was now leaping in his arms, holding on tightly to him like a koala bear and clinging for life.

The screams behind them started growing, cameras clicking, and fans growing desperate. After pushing one last kiss against her lips, Harry smiled at her adoringly, dimples poking out as her eyes fluttered open.

“Come on, it’s time to go, Princess.”

She nodded, and they kept their heads down, security surrounding them methodically as they moved through the gathering crowd. Through the middle of it, however, Y/N begins to feel a bit dazed. No, not now, she thinks to herself, nervously. The flashes and clicks and screams do nothing for her terribly painful headache, and worsen the heavy feeling in her chest. Her legs feel detached from the rest of her body, moving robotically and at a quick pace as they move hand in hand, Harry pulling her closer to his chest in order to protect her from the crowd. Her hands are becoming sweaty, and she wonders if he can feel it.

She’s taking deep breaths, training her expressionless face to the ground, and trying to focus on the steadiness of Harry’s arm around her waist, how it was warm and unwavering. However, this lessens her attention and causes her to forget that one step as Harry and her step into the elevator, hidden by the security who let them pass and keep everyone else out. They’re the only two going inside, when her foot slips into the little crack in the machine, and she lurches forward. Harry’s arms tense around her, pulling her inside the elevator before it shuts on her foot.

“Jesus, you alright, baby?”

She tries to make a confirming noise, but it comes out as more of a groan, and she’s so hungry, her stomach is painfully empty. This strikes his alarm, and so he places his large hands on her shoulders, finger tilting her chin up as he gazes down at her with tentative, cautious green eyes, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Mhm,” she mumbles, not quite wanting to let go of his chest just yet. It was warm and smelled of him, and she was afraid she’d lose her balance if she let go. Instead, she slung her arms around his hips and closed her eyes, face against his chest. Before murmuring: “I just missed you so much, H.”

He relaxes some at this, visibly becoming less tense. His expression softened as he looked over at his girl.

“Sleepy?” He asked softly, a finger stroking her cheek while his other arm wrapped itself around her waist, securing her to him. She hummed, and he kissed her hair.

“You smell nice,” she confessed. “Like.. like... Harry candles.”

“Come on, love,” he laughed lightly, guiding her out of the lift and brushing it off as she stumbled some, again, blaming it on her exhaustion. “Let’s get you home, in bed. Y’very sleepy.”

“No,” she protested, eyes narrowing while she pointed at his chest determinedly as she remembered all the work she had done, waiting for this moment. “I’ve made dinner, and you’re going to eat that, and then I’m going to put on lingerie and look irresistible and you’re going to seduce me into getting into bed with you.”

“I’m going to seduce you, hm?” Harry teased, a signature smirk on his face. He nuzzled his face into her neck and peppered kisses there, after they’d gotten into the car and he had sat in the drivers seat next to the passengers seat, where she sat. “You don’t need lingerie. You’re already irresistible.”

With a weak smile and a killer migraine, she rolled her eyes.

“Shut up and drive, Styles.”

—

The aching in her body would go, and then come back full force as Harry drives, one hand easy on the steering wheel, other grasping hers and rubbing circles into her much smaller palms as he talked of the places he’d traveled and how much he’d missed her, home.

She’d smile and nod, but what was this? She’d spent all of her energy finishing her assignments to spend time with him, but now she spent the time she had feeling sick.

They’d entered into their flat, and Harry had heaved a long sigh, comforted in the private confines of his home. Y/N had instructed him to freshen up, swatted away his lingering hands from her hips, and gotten dinner ready. She’d made his favorite.

She was just setting the wine on the candlelit table, when the all consuming drowsiness for her again, but she breathed in and out and gulped down some cool water, waiting for it to pass and then fixing the table, again.

He’d snuck up behind her, planting his hands on her hips and sponging kisses down her delicate neck when she clenched a bit in surprise, before relaxing slightly, still a bit stiff.

“Wow,” he’d muttered, green eyes sparkling as they ran over what she’d done. She’d pushed him down into a chair. “This is amazing, baby. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she promised, a small smile playing on her lips. “I’ve waited so long. Now, come on! There’s a cake you have to cut.”

There’s an apparent slow burn that situated itself in her ribcage, her stomach twisting in unease as she continued to smile and walk towards the counter, uncovering a big cake she had made for him in his favorite flavour and colours. She grabbed a lighter and quickly lit all the candles, the heat causing her chest to flush uncomfortably, arms prickling due to the unwanted warmth. Her head spun.

Carefully, she had began walking toward Harry with the cake, a faint smile still on her face as he stared at her lovingly. She had placed the cake in front of him.

“Welcome back home, baby,” she’d murmured, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as she held him, nuzzling her face into his neck, chest against his back. He lifted his hand to rest where hers did, before exhaling and blowing out the little fires on the candles, smoke billowing past them, as a result.

“I love you.”

She heard the phrase, but it sounded more distorted. The smoke and heat surrounding her becoming too much, migraine worsening, nausea uprising. She became more aware of her fatigue and hunger and dizziness. What was happening?

Harry’s own forehead had creased in concern as he eyed her after she hadn’t responded like she usually did. There was a strange, faraway look in her eyes, as he watched as her face fell with a frown downturning his own cherry lips. Eyes darkening in worry.

“Love?”

The last thing she felt was her own body turning against her, feeling weightless as her eyes closed shut. She collapsed, his arms quickly wrapping around her to break her fall.

—

Y/N felt as if she were nestled in a cloud, entrenched in softness and white and the warmth that could only be from the body heat of someone very close and very familiar. She yawned, stretching beneath the heavenly comforter. How long has it been since I’ve last slept here? Pushing the thought away, she had smiled sleepily. Harry must have changed the sheets into new, fresh ones. He was sweet.

Her eyes snapped wide open.

Harry.

“You’re awake.”

His voice was as gentle as the breeze, but his darkened eyes held emotions she couldn’t figure out, ones that caused her stomach to roll in unease.

“Drink,” he motioned to the glass filled with what looked like foggy water which he had ripped over slightly, nudging her lips. Inwardly grimacing, she parted her lips and he silently tipped the glass further into her mouth. Bleh. It was sugar water. “It’s to get your blood sugar up.”

“I spoke to the doctor,” he said. His voice hard as steel, but he restrained from sounding too firm or saying anything he didn’t mean. She already knew what he’d say.

“Harry,” Y/N whined, she was still tired. How about a rain check? She mused. On this conversation. I want to sleep some more.

“Y/N.”

His voice had a warning edge to it.

“You haven’t been eating,” he stared at her blankly as he stated the facts, but the worry in his eyes was now evident. She felt the urge to look away, but couldn’t. “—sleeping, and the doctor’s said you’ve been looking stressed. What’s going on? Tell me the truth.”

“I wanted to spend time with you..”

“So you deprived yourself of food and sleep?” He asked, disbelief colouring the sentence.

“I had a lot of coursework,” she confessed, looking down to where she fiddled with her fingers, a nervous habit. It all seemed so silly, now. “It’s becoming exam season, and I had a lot of projects and major assignments and reviewing to do.”

“You’re gone for ten months,” she pressed, a little pained. “I didn’t.. I didn’t want to spend the time I have with you doing coursework and stressing over prepositions and definitions, when we could be going places or doing nothing together. It’s been so long, Harry. I missed you.”

His eyes softened at the explanation, but hers were still downturned. She felt vulnerable. Had he missed her as much as she’d missed him?

“I guess, I kind of lost track of time and forgot to eat and stuff during all of the hustling to get things finished. I ate,” she offered with a weak smile, knowing it was futile. “I ate muffins and drank coffee.”

Harry shook his head at that.

“You silly girl,” he laughed wetly, tears springing to his own eyes as he pulled her near him, sponging soft kisses to her hairline and looking down at her sweetly. “I know the feeling. I hate being far from you, too, baby, but. You need to take care of yourself. You can’t be getting sick.”

She snuggled further into his warm chest, content with his familiar scent— of sandalwood and boy and home. His arms wrapped around her, holding her as close as physically possible, feeling every curve and dip he’d missed being against for so long.

“I was so worried,” he whispered. She felt her own heart ache at how he sounded a bit broken. “It was so sudden. One second you were smiling, and the next you’d fainted. I thought you were.. I thought something was wrong. I need you.”

“I’m sorry, H,” she apologized, sighing delicately as her boyfriend ran his fingers under the shirt (his) she was wearing, skin contacting with her warm back and tracing around until his palm lay flat against her bare stomach as he spooned her. “Hey.. did you change my clothes? “

She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively: “did you see my new lingerie?”

He rolled his eyes in amusement, before dramatically widening them for exaggerated emphasis. “Loving you,” he poked her nose. “Is exhausting. I’ve lost years off of m’life.”

“Yes, but you get to see me naked. So, you see, it’s all worth it in the end.”

It was. These months apart. The forces that tried to break them apart. Every ache, every second apart was worth it. She was worth it, and so was he.

He laughed, lips stretching into a wide smile as he pulled her closer to him while continuing to smother her squirming self with smacking kisses.

MASTERLIST