#argh this is one of those posts i worry about because it might make people mad

[generatedreflection]

...I just realized something I probably really should have before

A lot of the discussion around the paopu has been fixated on it as a sign of commitment

But I just realized that basically every time it's been deliberately invoked, it's associated with anxiety about a relationship

Riku tossing it to Sora in KH1--a low-risk way to try and understand Sora's feelings

The cave drawing--Riku had just "threatened" to share it with Kairi first (and everyone else on the island is saying stuff like "you better do it first or Riku will beat you to it!") In the novels, he's thinking "If I could just beat Riku at something..." rather than making a statement of commitment

Oathkeeper--Kairi is worried about Sora and uses the charm as reassurance he'll come back

The Wayfinders--the night before the exam, Aqua makes these. She expresses frequent anxiety about their bond all through the game, and while we don't get as much context of their bond before this, I do think the tension had already been there.

The KH3 Scene--Kairi is concerned about their battle tomorrow, so she wants to ensure they won't be separated again. After her unsent letter to Sora and general absence in KH3 up to that point, I think she actually might be worried about her relationship to him as a whole.

Kairi returning the cave drawing at the end of KH1 is really the only time that isn't motivated by worry, but it's more of a response than an invokation (which she already did earlier)

There's a lot of talk about 1 vs 2 paopus and romantic vs platonic invokations, but I just think it's really interesting how so far it's something people only seem to bring up when they're worried about something breaking. And they're usually right about the impending separation, with an eventual reunion at the end of it.

There's not really a point to this. Personally, I think of the paopu as more of a symbol and self-fulfilling prophecy rather than something magical (which might be stupid in a series like KH, but eh I've been wrong before). It's a way to say 'hey I care about you and I don't want to lose you,' which is something that both people will remember, to hopefully hold onto that relationship. (This is like. Constant with the Wayfinder trio.)

I just think it's interesting that despite being introduced in a way that gets us thinking of it as a kind of vow, so far it's felt more like a panic button?

[galwithalibrarycard]

Hello, how r u? Soo, I just discovered love little losers (I was a huge fan on nmtd, but didn't know about lolilo). And I love your blog, thanks for keeping the fandon alive. Argh so, Freddie, does she gets better? Cause she's a little bit annoying. Pedro and Balt, I'm jumping out of my sits for them, the backslash? Really. I'm so excited to see more beadick. Anyway, I just wanna vent, thanks for the blog

I’m good thanks, hope you are too. And thank you! I’m definitely not the only one still here keeping the fandom alive, there’s still a few of us out here, but I appreciate the love! 😁 it’s nice to know people are enjoying my posts still!

We’re actually having a small resurgence in the tags with new people watching both series, which is fun. Those people inspire me to keep posting too, it’s all full circle.

I am… not really sure how to prepare you for lolilo tbh. It’s a loose adaptation of Shakespeare’s Love’s Labors Lost, and it’s a lot heavier and angstier than NMTD for one thing, so be warned. Pedrazar is a very slow burn, be prepared for a journey! I liked Freddie right away bc I relate to her anxious energy, but you might take some time to warm up to her, that’s fair.

I recommend you head to @beatriceeagle and check out the series of Lolilo meta analysis posts she made with her sister a few years back. It’s a show that trades in subtext and has a lot of important stuff go down offscreen. Reading the metas really helps give a more thorough understanding and insight into the characters and why they behave the ways they do. It might help you understand where Freddie’s coming from, and the others too.

As far as Beadick, I’ll tell you they will break your heart, but it will be put back together again. If you need more of them, the missing offscreen moments and development of their relationship are kind of my specialty in terms of fanfiction. I wrote “the world is too quiet without you nearby”, a 16-chapter fanfic covering the time period between NMTD and Lolilo when Bea and Ben are in a long-distance relationship (plenty of fluff to pad the descent into angst). I also wrote “And We Are Finally Home”, a fic that covers the Beadick relationship arc from the lolilo episode “Confrontation” on through the end of the show- and I WILL be finishing and posting the epilogue to that fic as soon as I can, but you can read the chapters that are already up and still get a pretty complete story there. You don’t have to read them, but i wanted to share because I’m proud of them and I think they’re a good companion to the show if you like Team B! Mind the tags, but there shouldn’t be anything in the fics you can’t handle if you can handle the actual show.

The most important thing you might not get from the videos themselves: it’s canon from the creators that Benedick and Freddie and Balthazar are all dealing with anxiety disorders of some kind, though the creators didn’t actually intend to write that going in- it just happened that they agreed with the fandoms interpretation later on. So everything Ben does is colored by anxiety constantly telling him that he’s too much and that no one likes him and the only thing he’s good for is a laugh- and the (false) worry that Bea is getting sick of him and can’t wait to leave on her travels to get away from him. He’s trying to keep people from leaving him. Freddie is the way she is because she’s desperate for control in life, it’s the only way she feels calm. And Balthazar is petrified of confrontation and retreats into himself when he’s stressed. A lot of this is covered in much better depth in the metas I mentioned, but I wanted to let you know. Not as an excuse for any of their actions, but as an explanation that might make it a less frustrating watch.

I hope that answer wasn’t too overwhelming. I am just incapable of being normal about these webseries and especially about Benedick Hobbes (look, you don’t simply forget the character who got you through your own social anxiety diagnosis, and this is the obsessing-over-fictional-characters website. I talk about other things too, I promise! xD)

Anyway, thank *you* for allowing me to share some thoughts right back! I hope you enjoy Lolilo! 😊💖🦩

[bimbonaparte]

nothing up my sleeve: ch 4 research notes

As always, more background for nothing up my sleeve can be found here.

This one is going to be less of a coherent explanation and more of a list of funky things I discovered while researching this chapter. I’ll follow up with more links to info on the Children’s March later -- I’m still searching for this one documentary I saw years ago that was phenomenal, but also not the one from the SPLC, argh -- but in the meantime here’s what I’ve got:

“The means we use must be as pure as the ends we seek” is from MLK’s Letter from a Birmingham Jail. I had actually never sat down and read the whole thing through until I wrote this fic, embarrassingly, but I strongly recommend it. The good Reverend put some BANGERS in there.

I went through roughly 30 pages full of alcohol ads from the 1960′s and the only ones that had black people in them were Scotch whiskey and bourbon, so I felt reasonably comfortable making Ray drink that. Also, check out the bottom of this post for some gorgeous vintage decadence & sophistication.

Interestingly, studies of alcohol use in the 1960′s showed that nearly half of black women in the US abstained entirely from drinking, compared to 34% of white women, 29% of black men, and 24% of white men (this is, of course, based off a too-small sample size since medical studies in the 1960′s often didn’t bother to include black people, sigh). The relatively higher rate of abstinence among African-Americans can apparently be traced back to the temperance movement having strong anti-slavery ties; however, that relationship began to break down after the Civil War. Found that fascinating! I still had Allison reference drinking martinis with her friends, though.

This is more of a meta note, but: I don’t think Allison has ever had friends.  She went straight from unbridled sibling dysfunction to Hollywood, where she used her powers to control the people around her until she became mega-famous (which then becomes its own kind of control). Her entire life has been divided between family (the only people who matter), hired help, hangers-on, and "workplace proximity associates.” I don’t think she knows what to do with people who don’t fall under the “family” bucket, but also don’t provide a paid service or particularly want anything from her. I can see her trying to recreate this pattern with Ray and him (essentially) forcing her to go get a life.

The Shining didn’t come out until 1980, so Ray just thinks Allison is really into old-school proverbs.

By 1963, 91% of American households had a television, but Ray and Allison might be in the 9% because none of the screenshots I’ve got of their house have a TV in the background. Instead of writing one in anyway, though, I had them all go over to Miles’ parents place because in times like this, you want to be with your people.

I have now gone completely insane and started looking up “what was the weather like in Dallas in April 1963?” Y’all what does it MATTER, nobody is fact checking my writing like this! I could literally make up anything and you’d roll with it!! Why am I worried about whether 54 degrees is cold enough to need a coat?!?

Cleopatra really is four hours long. Good lord.

Part of my current problem is balancing cute stuff about Allison & Ray’s relationship with the Civil Rights stuff, which I originally intended to be more of an occasional backdrop for all this. However, 1963 was an insanely eventful year for the Civil Rights Movement. After MLK’s Letter from a Birmingham Jail in April and the Children’s March in May, Kennedy announces the Civil Rights Act in June, Medgar Evers is assassinated the very next day, the March on Washington takes place in August, and the 16th St Baptist church bombings happen in September. Trying to figure out a way to honor all this and the impact it would have had on Allison & Ray, while at the same time trying to figure out how to give them some of those more lighthearted character moments, is -- actually, it’s a pretty good metaphor for some of my day to day struggles, so at least it’s familiar. Ok, bedtime, no more thinking about this right now.

[interstellar-changkyun]

you’re jealous | monsta x ot7 reactions

maybe some smut ;)

shownu | son hyunwoo

shownu has been going on variety shows to promote the group’s latest comeback and the female hosts and guests always comment on his looks

it doesn’t bother you usually, you know he’s handsome and love when he gets all flustered from the attention, but you don’t like how the hosts feel up his arms and ogle him when he performs a part of the choreo

they continue to dote on him and jealousy crawls up your throat and takes over your body as you wait for shownu to come home

he comes home earlier than usual and you would be happy if the images of women touching up his arms weren’t flashing in your mind, clouding your vision

he greets you with a kiss to the cheek and your arms are crossed and you’re pouting, still quiet

only when he’s setting down his stuff does he ask what’s wrong giving you time to look away from his sweaty chiseled chest and focus on your anger

“i saw the show today.” a beat of silence

“oh? was it fun?” he was almost done now as he grew closer to you

“it would’ve been if those women weren’t touching you up...” shownu found it adorable when you were jealous so he couldn’t help but put his arms around your waist and pull your back to his chest, resting his head on your shoulders. you could feel his muscles against you, was he not wearing a shirt any more? it didn’t matter you were angry

“i told them to stop but they cut that out of the show...” your anger subsided, of course he did. you turned in his arms then, properly looking him in the eyes for the first time today.

“good.”

“you’re cute when you’re jealous,” he kissed your nose and you blushed, for a second he thought he outta make you jealous more often but he couldn’t bare even trying to give anyone that kind of attention when he had you. “let me make it up to you,” he started kissing your lips then, his hands roaming down your body as the found your ass and lifted you up, instinctively your legs went around his waist

he was sweaty so u offered to shower with him to save water of course, he thanked you for that with his actions...

wonho | shin hoseok

wonho was performing WITH YOU and you couldn’t help but feel jealous as the beautiful female dancer moved in synch with him and his hands traced her body

you rarely got jealous, he did that enough for both of you, but you couldn’t help it when fans were saying how good they looked together and of course they didn’t know he was already taken

the tweets, instagram posts, even tiktoks of them together consumed you and you finally came to your breaking point when wonho came home from the music show

“enough hoseok i can’t take it any more!”

“what’s wrong?” he had never seen you so upset, a mix of frustration and sadness adorned your face

“you and your dancer, everywhere i look online i just see you two together and i know it’s not real but when everyone’s telling you they would be good together i-“

“baby they don’t know what’s real and what’s for the performance, at the end of the day i came home to you and love you, i don’t even have her number on my phone much less have her saved as my lock screen like i do you,” wonho grinned and you felt the anxiety leave your body slowly. he always knew how to calm me down and when he realized you weren’t as mad he opened his arms for a hug which you fell into with a small pout still on your face

“can i make it up to my baby?” you didn’t know what he had in mind and you certainly didn’t expect being handcuffed to your bed frame screaming his name as he ate you out until you came...three times

kihyun

kihyun wasn’t naturally flirty, just too kind to know he could be perceived as flirty so when a girl trips in front of him and he helps her up like the gentlemen he is she gets the wrong idea and starts flirting with him...in front of you

you let it go on as he obliviously responds to her intrusive questions, you were grateful she didn’t recognize him with his mask and beanie on but you still felt your possessiveness rearing it’s ugly head

“we need to get going honey,” you cut in, having had enough of this girl just when she’s about to ask YOUR boyfriend for his number and she stutters and apologizes, you just mutter an okay as you grab kihyun’s hand and walk away

kihyun laughs as he catches up to you

“aww someone got jealous.”

“not jealous just annoyed, how could you not tell she was flirting?” you frowned at him and he smirked, oh no he’s gonna tease the hell out of you now

“i can only tell when you flirt with me, but what if i was flirting with her? would you get mad? and if i fucked her?” he whispered the last part, since you were still very much in public.

“kihyun,” you groaned as his hold on your hand tightened. you knew where this was going, knew exactly what this tone in his voice would lead to. but honestly you didn’t care, not when you were just as territorial as him and wanted to feel like his in the most physical way.

“would you beg for me back?” kihyun, pulled you flush against him and whispered into your ear and you couldn’t help but hold onto his shoulder for strength, he knew what he did to you.

“you know i would.”

“you look so pretty when you beg, maybe i’ll go get her number.” you were whining at this point, still very much in public, he drove you crazy.

“fuck me please kihyun.” and that’s all it took before you were rushing to the nearest bathroom like a bunch of horny teenagers, and kihyun was making you cry and scream his name.

minhyuk

being an mc on a music show meant he interacted with lots of idols and you always anticipated the influx of delusional fans assuming he’s dating any girl idol he has any interaction with but one day is different from the others

he’s doing his usual mc duties but this kpop idol is staring at him intensely, even as going as far as telling him he’s handsome

she’s much older but it doesn’t stop the influx of tweets and comments

minhyuk is handsome you know that, anyone with eyesight can see that so when he comes home you can’t help but be grumpy

you can’t be mad at him you know that but your feelings are your feelings

he knows as soon as he’s home what’s making you grumpy

“babe i can’t help it!”

“ i know it’s just-why are you so handsome??? cover your face or something argh” you’re not really angry at him and he knows that as he kisses your face until the pout drops from your lips and he kisses you

you’re still feeling annoyed so you make it a point to show minhyuk just how much he is yours as you are his, making him scream your name all night long

hyungwon

like kihyun he doesn’t realize people assume he’s flirting when he’s kind just because he’s handsome

you’re out with him in vacation in greece and hyungwon is helping these japanese tourists with directions because he overhears them being confused about the hotel names, they assume he’s flirting with them since they don’t see you standing, waiting for him under the shade of the store front

hyungwon politely declines their offer to join him back at their hotel and you unfortunately hear the entire conversation, not once did he mention you

you scoff and walk off as he walks back to you, his eyebrows raising in shock

“woah what’s wrong?” he catches up to you with ease, damn his long legs.

“why don’t you go ask your new friends since i don’t exist?” you glare at him and he smirks, the handsome fucker smirks

“jealous babe?”

“why would i be, not like i’m your girlfriend or anything.” you grumble and he laughs at how you’re the angriest he’s seen you in a while. the last time you were this angry it was at netizens for attacking him over some dumb thing.

“i didn’t tell them because they could have recognized me and that wouldn’t have been good for anyone,” that made a lot of sense, maybe you had reacted too strongly. you might just be angry about other people flirting with what’s yours more than anything.

“you’re hot when you’re angry though, maybe i should do that more often.” you stopped in your tracks and narrowed your eyes even more at him, you pulled him into the side alley, pushing him against the building side.

“you won’t.” you shut up with a kiss and he was smirking into your kiss, his hands roaming down your body and you had to pull away and remind yourself you were not in your hotel room. after that you both stumbled and practically ran back to your hotel.

jooheon

jooheon is pretty well known for his unabashed displays of aegyo and so when he goes on a variety show it’s not surprising he’s asked to do it

unfortunately this show is hosted by a female idol and her reaction sends netizens into delusional theories that the two are surely dating

you’re so upset by the rumors and allegations that you start to believe them so when jooheon sees you two days after the rumors started you’re crying at your place

he’s so worried he pulls you to him automatically and asks repeatedly what happened and what’s wrong, not even thinking for a second it could be related to the rumors

finally you manage to stop crying and get out, “it’s okay if you love her too if she makes you happier i’ll understand.”

“what the hell are you talking about?” jooheon is so dumbfounded by your statement he stops soothing you and this makes you go back to crying

“you and that kpop idol on the variety show it’s all over the internet.”

“you idiot i would never date much less love anyone other than you.” you just stop crying at look at him through your tears, which you furiously wipe away again and see the sincerity on his face.

“oh.”

“yes oh i can’t believe you even believed them.” jooheon scoffs and gets off the bed you were both sat on, and then out of nowhere he picks you up and takes you to the bathroom

“we’re taking a bath so my baby can feel better,” the relaxing bath turns to a little more when he can’t but show how much he missed you the past couple days and just how much he loves you more than anyone else

I.M | im changkyun

people expected changkyun to be the bad bitch in your relationship, he had sharp features, a deep voice, piercings, and an amazing body but everyone who knew you both knew you were the one who would slice a bitch

especially if a random girl is trying to dance on your man in the one nightclub everyone knows he’s taken in, this nightclub had cut some kind of nondisclosure deal with the idols and their companies but clearly this girl was new, however, that didn’t mean you would hold back

changkyun winced as she started to dance on him and backed away, but she was persistent as she turned around and tried again, he waved his hand in front of her, clearly disinterested

you didn’t want to step in but as you monitored the situation where you danced with jooheon you could tell changkyun was struggling to remain polite

but you didn’t have a reputation to maintain and you certainly weren’t as calm and collected as your boyfriend

in a couple seconds you were wedging yourself between her and your boyfriend

“i’d back away sweetie,” you painted on your best fake smile and changkyun let out a sigh of relief.

“who are you?” her voice and tone was unpleasant, it was all too unpleasant especially when you were trying your best not to break her

“i’m his girlfriend,”

“let’s let him pick,” she shoved you away and stepped closer to changkyun, and that’s when you know you’re about to end up at the police station...again

changkyun stops you by grabbing your waist and hauling you over his shoulder as you’re lunging for her hair

shownu appears out of nowhere and asks the girl to kindly fuck off in the way shownu just knows how to do

when you’re outside and the driver has pulled up to the club, changkyun sets you down, he looks partially amused but mostly concerned

he knows you hate it when other people flirt with him just like he has to stop himself from breaking the jaw of any guy who dances on you at the club

he pushes the hair out of your face and looks at you fondly, you just nod at him to let him know you’re okay, too lost in his eyes to find words at the moment

and then the driver is opening the door for you and you both shuffle into the very back row of the minivan

changkyun presses a kiss to your temple, and you lean into his side

“you’re so fucking sexy when you get like that, i know i shouldn’t encourage it but fuck,” changkyun whispers into your hair and you shiver as his deep voice sends chills through you, you let your hand travel from its place on his lap to where the leather of his pants is becoming strained

“don’t.” he hisses and you aren’t in the obedient mood as you look him straight in the eyes and continue your torture

you estimate you have about thirty mins to go to get home, the privacy screen between the driver and the back of the car won’t muffle all the sound of you both but you can at least remind changkyun who he belongs to

so when you’re done making him suffer in his leather pants, you unzip them and he’s hissing and grabbing your hand

“fuck babe,” you just smirk at him and then spit in your hand. changkyun groans and throws his head back against the headrest, soon enough you’re leaning down and taking him into your mouth and he’s whining your name in between strings of curses. you manage to finish him off before you even get home.

changkyun gets back at you and you’re sure the entire apartment complex knows his name now

[hacash]

ted lasso 2x09 thoughts

ARGH

those are it. those are my thoughts.

Ok, slightly more coherently…

Sam’s getting recognition! Sam has his own chant! I love that for him. Love it all. It’s obviously so good that Sam is becoming an in-universe hero when we’ve loved him from his first scene - however, that also comes with the caveat of not wanting him to move anywhere from Nelson Road. I’m curious to see where they take it though, because I obviously can’t see Toheeb Jimoh leaving the cast before the show finishes, but at the same time this offer is so good for him?? I don’t know I don’t know I don’t know.

(If, on the other hand, Toheeb is being written out because he’s going on to star as a lead in another show where we could see more of his beautiful face and stellar acting every week? I would find that acceptable.)

Screeners’ reactions for this episode had me thinking something cataclysmic and dreadful was going to happen between Sam and Rebecca with them reuniting and it hitting the papers - and it ended up being fine?? Of course she’s torn about him leaving. Even if they end up never being together again Sam clearly represents something wonderful to Rebecca - possibility and the sense of being treated right - and those feelings don’t just go away.

I expected a bit more reaction from Ted about the whole Sambecca thing, but that little look in his eyes after their conversation did have me curious - does he disapprove more than he lets on? is he secretly pining for Rebecca already? only time will tell. also I did notice Ted was once again basically saying whatever Rebecca wanted to hear and agreeing at every single line - he might be going to therapy but he’s not out of the people-pleaser woods yet.

Another bombshell next year? OH COME ON. If that’s not a prediction of some sort of confession of love I will go out and buy a hat just to eat it.

SHARON. How I am going to miss thee. But it was a lovely and understated farewell to a character that I’ve really come to love - Sexy Mother Fucker; he stole my move, yaas - showing how much she and Ted have helped each other grow and I just *tear*. Also I’m a Tedbecca shipper through and through, but Jason and Sarah do have such lovely chemistry together.

Also the pub regulars basically pleading for free therapy? Aww.

Higgins luring Ted back to read Sharon’s note with a well-chosen letter based pun? I love this man to the ends of the earth.

I FUCKING KNEW THAT HIGGINS KNEW EVERYONE’S BIRTHDAY. I PREDICTED THAT SHIT.

Roy and Keeley…I’m sorry, I’m emotional and anxious and hopeful and I do not think they’re going to break up. Relationships go through messy spots and people struggle, and the mark of a good, communicative, grown-up relationship is that you take time and discuss your issues and move past them. Keeley and Roy’s relationship has always been characterised by that maturity, and I just don’t see a couple of ill-timed romance confessions breaking that down.

(If anything, we might get a discussion from Roy about Keeley trusting him - I’m guessing there’s a fair bit of time lapsed between Jamie’s confession and her telling all to Roy, and I can see that being the sticking point that upsets Roy, that she hid this from him for some time. He clearly didn’t feel at all upset by what happened with Nate; it’s the - arguably fair - point that Keeley didn’t let him know that her ex confessed love for her that I think is going to be the issue.)

Also, the ‘are you married’ question - coupled with the fact that we keep seeing Roy on his knees in front of Keeley - makes me think we’re going to get a proposal next episode.

Also I love that we’re seeing more of Keeley’s psyche beyond the ‘cute and supports everyone’ façade - her mother’s experience with ambition and not being able to achieve it is a really interesting little snippet, not to mention the reason she bonds so much with Nate and is able to see how someone seemingly ‘undeserving’ should be able to realise their dreams.

also her and Rebecca’s ‘bleargggggh!’ competition! and Ted thinking he was going to be on the cover of Vanity Fair! return of Biscuits with the Boss!

ok, deep breaths now

NAAAAAATE

WHAT ARE YOU DOOIIIIIIING

Is it bad that I sort of liked the whole thing with Keeley? Not in a ‘yes I want this to happen’ sort of way, but because it makes so much sense that Nate (particularly Nate in his current state) might mistake that level of bonding and emotional support as something romantic. We know Nate is insecure and hasn’t had much of a social life in the past, and that he idealises Keeley for her basic kindness and decency: much like Jamie in 2x10, he’s mistaking Keeley’s kindness as something more…it’s absolutely gutting to watch, and also so human and real that I can’t help but take my hat off to the writers for it.

(Honestly, there’s been so many posts on tumblr about how toxic masculinity fucks men over to such an extent that when they receive kindness and friendship for a woman they immediately think romance - but yeah. this show does tick all the boxes.)

I did see the kiss moment coming a mile away and was really worried that Nate was going to be…uh, very entitled about it, given his current state, but the fact that he wasn’t - that he was immediately horrified and realised he’d fucked up and stumbles away muttering about how he ‘is worried about it’ and ends the scene spitting at himself in the mirror again and looking absolutely disgusted with himself - well, in a way that just hurt more. (I mean, I’m relieved Nate wasn’t all bolshy with it because his reaction does show there is still some of the old Nate still there…but still, owch.)

And then that text from Trent…

Next episode is going to hurt like hell, isn’t it? I absolutely cannot wait for the showdown between Nate and Ted, it’s been a long time coming…like I’ve said, while I think ultimately Nate is going to have a redemption arc, because thematically it makes sense and would send some pretty iffy messages if he doesn’t, I don’t think it’ll come until season three. Right now I just want to see Ted get angry after several seasons of suppressing his anger, I want a full-blown emotional hash-out between them both - basically I want Jason and Nick to have me sobbing before 9AM.

My one question is: are we going to see Nate realising what he’s done, or not? Was this a pragmatic, doing-this-for-the-sake-of-the-club betrayal or a blind, lashing-out-in-frustration betrayal? In short: is Nate Lando or Anakin in this scenario?

I’m very curious as to what show people who say this ‘came out of nowhere’ have been watching. Nate’s been heading for some sort of implosion since mid-season, and we all knew it was going to hurt some innocent bystanders.

I’m saving something light and cheery after all the angst, so let me just say: cinema has never surpassed, and will never surpass, the scene of the Richmond boys dancing along to Bye Bye Bye. Almost made up for the fact that they were criminally underused in the rest of the episode, and quite frankly this had better be redressed in the season finale.

and WE FINALLY SAW COLIN DRIVING THE LAMBO. I don’t know what I find funnier: the fact that it’s some neon lime green monstrosity that every fourteen-year old boy would have dreamt of owning growing up (should my new Colin tag be Colin ‘I Need To Rethink My Relationship With My Car’ Hughes, or Colin ‘More Money Than Sense’ Hughes? enquiring minds want to know…) or as was pointed out to me by @kamillahn, the look of absolute terror on Colin’s face as he begins to drive. Colin, hun, please just buy yourself a Fiat. It’s not worth it anymore.

[belovedrival]

Sorry this is all a blargh kind of post but this is how I feel right now:

My grandpa died last Thursday. To support my dad, I went to my parent’s house on Friday and stayed until today. I’m glad I went (my aunt and uncle were there too) but when I got home I felt completely overwhelmed.

Mister’s school had a baby shower for us on Friday, which was very loving and generous, but the nursery, which was very clean and organized, looks like a wreck again. And there’s more things that need washing. More things to do.

I’m tired of people telling me (whether in jest or being serious) that my house will never be clean again - oh, and I’ll never get enough sleep for at least a decade. It’s not helpful. Or funny. Seriously, either shut up or give constructive advice.

Every room - and I mean EVERY room in the house - needs organization/cleaning/something done. It makes me even more tired to think about it. I put away clean clothes a little while ago - that helped to feel like SOMETHING is being done.

There’s been a mix-up, on my end, over who’s parents will be here when after Wiggles is born. I thought my in-laws would be here a bit early, but nope - now it sounds like they’re waiting on my parents. Which is okay on the one hand, because my parents are a couple hours away, but on the other it’s not okay because my brother and sister-in-law are also expecting a baby very soon, and my mom told me this morning that she has plane tickets to go to their house on March 21st. So now I’m like...okay, I thought THAT part of organizing help for the first couple weeks was done, but it’s not. Add that to the list.

Grandpa’s funeral is next Saturday in Missouri, where there’s basically no Coronavirus restrictions unless the family calls for it, and my dad’s side of the family is not on the whole, people who call for it. And of course every second cousin within driving distance has been invited to come - to the funeral, the meal afterwards, and the grave side military ceremony. Mister’s been asked to be a pallbearer and this is my last living grandparent, so my inclination is to go because I know I would regret not going to my Grandpa’s funeral in a month, in a year, in ten years. People might feel differently but this is an event where it only happens once. There’s no way to do it later. I have zero input over the plans because they were all made by Friday afternoon and I didn’t find out about them until Friday evening. I’m not scared of getting Coronavirus but what I *am* scared of is Mister getting it, or testing positive, I go into labor, and then I’m forced to give birth without the one person allowed to be with me. We could mask, but I have to be realistic: there won’t be social distancing and we can’t keep our masks on while eating (obviously).

And I hate even thinking of all this, because I feel like I should be remembering Grandpa, and instead I’m feeling resentful that two of the last weekends before my due date have been completely devoid of doing anything substantial at home, and the list of things to do keeps getting longer, and people keep saying very sweet things like how good I look, while inside I feel like an ungrateful bitch because I’d prefer a cleaning crew or house elves to organize my house over their compliments, so I don’t keel over from stress.

One of my coworkers is off later this week. I can’t take time off to do stuff at home. I feel like this is my last realistic week to get anything done work-wise.

Did I mention I’m pretty sure I felt real contractions - not Braxton Hicks - over the last couple days?Nothing consistent but...let’s add to my stress, la la la la la...

Tomorrow is my pre-registration at the hospital, and I’ve got another appointment with my doctor, and another NST. I’ve got two NSTs a week scheduled for the duration, on Mondays and Thursdays. This coming Friday I have another ultrasound. Fingers crossed Wiggles is still head down.

And now Mister is on the phone because another student tested positive. At least this time he’s not as worried because 1) this student, unlike the last positive case, wasn’t crawling all over him (literally) yesterday and 2) he and the entire staff got their first shots yesterday. For what it’s worth.

Argh. I hate feeling tugged in two. But Wiggles, and us, come first. I’ll talk to the doctor tomorrow and explain the situation, and ask if/what’s the wise thing to do.

I want, desperately, to be there when Grandpa is laid to rest. Fuck Coronavirus, fuck how much everyone’s been divided over the response to it this past year. I’ve never been an absolutist about it - I do not think it’s reasonable to expect those with little to no risk to quarantine for months on end; nowhere in history were healthy people expected to behave as though they were sick. Neither do I think it’s right to just go on with things as though it’s 2019; I wish it was, but it’s not. If we pull the trigger and say we’re not going I can just hear what my sister will say. My brother and sister-in-law aren’t coming; they say they want to avoid a situation like they had with my nephew G, when they barely made it to the hospital before he was born. Driving eight hours one way isn’t something to put my SIL’s mind at ease. I get that. And, of course, there’s Coronavirus. My sister is half convinced that R simply doesn’t want to travel to Missouri (though my brother’s family plans on going to the beach later this summer, pandemic or no pandemic) - and she (my sister) might be right.

Thank God that my mother said before I left them today (with my father standing right there, nodding) that whatever we chose, they would support us. This still sucks.

Things will get done, somehow. Wiggles might decide to make his/her appearance this week and the whole conundrum is solved for us (though I’m going to hit 37 weeks this week and I’d rather cook for another week).

Oh, I can’t even getting too much into the guilt I feel over not writing/updating my fics. It makes me depressed thinking that I won’t get any time for that for the foreseeable future. I understand having a child trumps personal things, but I can’t help but mourn a little for my former life. I am not my mother - someone who poured her life into being “mom” and seemingly had very little/no other personal interests until we were out of the house. I am so grateful for the opportunity to be a mother; but there’s more than that one side of me. Does that make sense?

(My mom is a wonderful mom, by the way. She also is an excellent amateur photographer who I think could sell her pictures if she wanted to.)

Gotta end this rant/blargh somehow. I hope you all have a more peaceful evening.

[magnoliasinbloom]

Crash Course Love

Claire and Jamie are together for one purpose only: trying to get over their previous relationships. It’s just a plan, isn’t it?

Infinite thanks to @lcbeauchampoftarth​ and @anna-swims​ for being awesome betas. There is no posting schedule, because life™. I hope you enjoy this ride.

AO3

1: Drink [Claire]

I slammed my tiny shot glass down hard on the bar top. It earned me a dirty look from what’s-his-face, the bartender.

“Hey… hey! Yeah, another one over here, please.” My words weren’t quite slurred yet, but I was getting there fast. Bloody fuck.

I swiveled on the barstool, just enough to get a real good look at the people who were milling around the crowded Glasgow bar. Which bar was I at again… Prince Edward? Prince Charles? Some royal name.

I was past being discreet. I craned my neck and checked out every booth and table just to make sure they were really gone. The bartender nudged my arm with my new drink and I felt for it blindly, never taking my eyes off the tiny dance floor.

“Cheers, Robert.”

“It’s Rupert,” he grunted.

“Whatever.” I pulled the tequila hard and fast, barely grimacing as it burned its way down.

“Och. Tha’ looks painful. I might have to try that.”

The voice came from my left, a slightly slurred Scottish burr. I turned slowly, wiping my mouth rather sloppily with the back of my hand. I squinted in the dim light.

His hair was the first thing I noticed. It was an attractive mess, and I couldn’t tell if it was the shitty lighting or his natural color, but it was so red it looked fake.

I realized I’d been staring at the top of this lad’s head like an idiot, before finally meeting his gaze. Deep blue eyes—a rare form of sapphire—looked back at me, also squinting through the haze of cigarette smoke and dim lighting.

Bloody fuck, he was a hot mess. I felt a twinge of equal parts guilt and self-righteous anger. I thought maybe it was a bit too soon for me to notice other attractive men, but the anger spoke up even louder. Why shouldn’t I engage in interesting conversations with random, gorgeous men? The anger in me won.

Wait, he’d said something. What was it? He wanted to do a shot?

“Um, it’s Cuervo. I think I might go blind if I keep drinking this, but that’s okay. Then I won’t have to see that arsehole walking around with that stroppy cow.”

Oops, overshare. At least I hadn’t hurled tequila and pub mix all over him. Yet.

Attractive blue-eyed lad raised his eyebrows. He was just as shit-faced as I was, maybe even a bit more. “Arsehole? Who would that be?”

Oh, might as well. “My ex. Turns out those late-night work meetings that went on for months were late-night sex marathons with Sandy. The arm-candy.”

“Sandy? The stroppy cow, I assume?” He smirked and tossed back the remainder of his own drink. “Which would make you…?”

“Claire. Spurned but pissed ex-girlfriend.” I held out my hand.

He took it in his and squeezed it gently. “Jamie, spurned and sad ex-boyfriend.” The tequila must have kicked in; my hand and arm felt all tingly and a warmth sparked in my belly.

“So. Any particular sorrows you’re drowning in cheap liquor?” I faced the bar again, looking at him out of the corner of my eye.

“Och, aye. But I daresay they’re halfway gone now.” Jamie shook his empty glass and the ice clinked. “My third.”

I snorted. “Fourth.” I held up my own shot glass in Ronald’s—or was it Reuben’s?—direction. “My good man, two please.” I glanced at Jamie, smiling wickedly. “You need to catch up.”

“Aye, but I really dinna want to risk going blind.” He called out to Rodolfo (Riley?), “Make it Patron, please.”

“Patron, huh? Is she worth it?” I caught his gaze.

Jamie’s eyes hardened, but I could tell it wasn’t towards me. “No. But I am.”

“Fair enough.” The glasses were placed in front of us and I raised mine to his. I stood, wobbling a bit and he did the same. “A toast—to Jamie and Claire. May their exes catch amoebic dysentery and shit till they die.”

“Amen.” He held his own shot aloft and touched the rim to mine. We looked at each other for a moment before we downed the golden liquid.

“Argh!” Jamie shook his head, making a face and coughing once. “Nice.”

“What were you drinking?” I nodded towards the chunky tumbler filling fast with melted ice.

“Whisky. I probably shouldna be mixing Laphroaig and Patron, but fuck it. I dinna care.”

Now both our eyes were kind of swimming and I stumbled into him as I tried to hike myself back onto the barstool.

“Easy there,” he chuckled. I straightened up, pushing away slightly. I gripped the bar top. The world was tilting crazily now. Bloody hell.

“I think that last shot was a mistake.” Now my words were blending together in strange ways.

“Aye, for me too.” His Scots accent had broadened more over the past minute.

I laid my head on the bar, not caring if my hair got dirty. I groaned, and I felt Jamie pat my back gently. “Um, thanks.” I managed to raise my head off the surface after a few minutes.

“Anytime.” He hoisted himself onto the stool next to mine. We endured silence for a bit until he grabbed a nearby salt shaker, tapping it rhythmically on the bar top. I waited.

The music suddenly changed; slow, mellow notes filled the air. I was about to make a snarky comment about the DJ’s song choice when I noticed Jamie’s hand next to me, palm up.

“Dance?” he asked softly.

“Only if you promise not to twirl me,” I found myself answering.

We made our way onto the makeshift dance area in the corner. He pulled me close, his hand at my back and the other clutched mine tightly against his chest. My left hand went on his shoulder as he led me expertly around the floor. My head threatened to drop, nestling perfectly into the center of his chest. God, he was tall.  The alcohol was finally achieving its purpose, numbing me.

We swayed back and forth; I was still trying not to vomit as we danced. I found that the scent coming off Jamie’s skin was helping—something fresh like citrus, tinged with his own male musk.

“I proposed to her.” His warm breath tickled the shell of my ear.

I gripped his shoulder hard. He proposed? Jamie’s story sounded more fucked up than mine. He took my touch as a sign to continue.

“It was our 2-year anniversary. Fancy restaurant, candles, romantic shite—ye ken? Movie style.”

“What’s your ex called?” I slurred, surprised I could focus on a question.

“Annalise.” Jamie’s voice had a sneering quality as he pronounced her name with a French accent. “We’d met when I studied a semester abroad in Paris, but she actually lived here. After I’d pulled the ring from my pocket, and knelt in front of the entire restaurant—she said she didna want to hurt me, but that we should remain friends.”

“Friends. Classic. Only if being friends means you get to punch them in the mouth after a speech like that,” I laughed bitterly and he joined me.

“That was exactly a year ago—tonight. I just found out she’s dating some arsehole—something something Saint Germain. Hence, whisky.”

The song ended and Jamie looped my arm through his, and we collapsed at a table; barstools were a little complicated in our current state. I took a deep breath and reciprocated my own sob story.

“I walked in on Frank and Sandy a few months ago. In our bed. Bloody hell, we’d known each other since we were teenagers. We were living together. Was ‘I think we should see other people’ so hard to say?” I flagged a waitress, holding up two fingers.

“Och, lass, another one?” Jamie looked concerned. I was no lightweight, but I was really feeling the previous shots.

Fuck it.

“Yeah. I need it.” I sucked on a lime and upended the shot glass. I barely acknowledged the burn this time.

“That bad, eh?”

“It is.” I winced, remembering how I still hadn’t managed to take down the pictures of us. That was just bloody unhealthy.

“Oh. It’s really no’ my place, since, well… I’m completely pissed too, but… do ye drink this much every weekend, just to forget? I mean, I worry about yer liver and all.”

“No. It’s just I ran into the Frank and Sandy here tonight, who’s sporting a rock the size of a peach pit on her finger.” I swallowed hard. “And very, very pregnant.” Much too pregnant for their affair to have begun only a few months ago. She looked ready to pop.

“Och.” Jamie looked chagrined. “Aye.” He downed his own shot and gestured for more. He raised his glass in a toast like I had.

“To ye. Because at this point, I think yer story sounds worse than mine. And ye’re still standing.” We slammed a few more shots, until finally, sweet oblivion.

No more pain, no more misplaced guilt, no more what-ifs. A moment’s peace.

It could be found at the bottom of a glass.

- - -

Sunlight streamed through the pale, gauzy curtains. It felt like a fucking drill through my eyes.

“Oh God,” I mumbled, rolling over and trying to ignore the pounding like a sledgehammer between my temples.

I hit something soft and warm beside me.

My eyes flew open, light hitting me painfully. As they adjusted, I caught sight of a tousled red head peeking over the top of the covers.

Oh my God. Oh my God.

How did this happen?

[spikeymarshmallows]

spikey’s dnw’s for tua s3

So I've seen lots of stuff going around. People talking about what they want for S3, or what they don't want.

And honestly, I get major FOMO, and am very much like "HELLO, I AM HERE, PLEASE LISTEN TO ME, I AM BABY WITH LOW SELF-ESTEEM". Taking a leaf out of Sarky's post....

What don't I want from S3....

Warning: here there be much more salt than you're probably used to from Spikey. I’m *certain* I’ve got a lot of very unpopular opinions here so uh... sorry???

The Sparrows. Like, I want them to be a part of it. But I don't want them to be Mains. I don't want them to get lots of development at the expense of the Umbrella Harkids. Ben is the exception. I want more of him but I am counting him as an Umbrella Harkid lol. Lila. As with the Sparrows, I'm happy for her to be a part of it. She was interesting. But I cannot emphasise how much I don't want her to be a Main; hell, I don't even mind it if she is... (Okay, that's a lie. I do care). But can Diego have a storyline outside of her, please? My ships aside--I just don't really want romances as driving factors here (with the exception of Alluther, and like, I want them to have storylines outside of their romance too. Argh, hopefully I'm making sense). And I worry they're just gonna erase my boy for the sake of romance... Romances. Look, we know this about me--I am a shipper. When I engage fandom, it's 95% for ships. But when I watch things... It's less for the ships. Give me meaningful moments (like... Klaus tying Diego's boots, and them at the hotel, and the banter etc there. And GOSH, the EYE CONTACT T.T MY HEART). Anyway. The point is: I love moments like those. But I really don't watch this show for the Romance TM. Sometimes I think I'd love to see my ships become canon. But I don't know. I've never really had it happen? I don't know that I'd love it. Anyway. They're never gonna have Kliego making out on this show. That's fine. Give me moments. Give me connections. But please, please let the only overt romance be Alluther. Alluther being tossed out. They're not My Ship but they're a favourite background ship for me. And I like what it stands for. So I really hope they don't go the shitty route and say Allison Rumour'd Luther. And I hope they keep having their beautiful and loving chemistry. I also think they do well at being characters with lives outside of that romance. I don't think the Alluther takes away from them as characters so.... I DON'T want Alluther to be tossed out. Toilet humour and fart jokes. I just don't get it??? Like, I know I don't spend time in lots of TUA circles but I don't think I've ever seen ANYONE ask for the toilet humour?? Like. I don't get it. IN THE BIN. Making the show an outright comedy. Yes, it was fun to watch. But... I think we all fell in love with the quirky, weirdass, gritty show that was S1. I liked the random silly moments in S1, but that it never made me wanna choke on my own sadness. Brushing over the trauma. Again, I think this is something that a lot of us fell in love with the show for. The nuances and differences in trauma. How these kids were raised by the same people, but trauma looks so different in all of them. Can we have some of the anger back? The sadness? The fury and resentment towards Reginald? Having conflicted feelings about Pogo? Heck, having conflicted feelings about Reginald too. Because goodness knows that trauma is funny in that some of us still deeply care about and love our abusers, even though we don't want to, and know we shouldn't. So, I really, really don't want us to keep brushing over the trauma. We don't need to see daily therapy sessions for them, but can we stop acting like it just... didn't happen? Give me more moments like that Horrible Dinner Scene. I know a lot of people hated it, but for me.... it resonated deeply with my own trauma. Give me anger and resentment at each other for wrongs of the past. Give me love underneath it all (between the sibs!! Not Reggie), yes. That's a major thing for me. But don't have "wheeee happy families, no issues between us anymore uwu". Overpowered Babies. I know, I know. We all love it when our faves are powerful and strong. And hell yeah, I get that! Diego being able to manipulate objects in motion like that?? *chefskiss*. Five travelling back my seconds? Amazing! But I would have loved to have seen Vanya in particular struggle to control her powers. She didn't even know she had them!! And has been on mood stabilisers/killers for 20+ years!! And within?? Less than a month?? Without even knowing she HAD powers, she just had this immense control??? God, I just wanna see her and the siblings having to work through their issues so that they can help her learn. I don't want to see Klaus.... IDK what he does in the comics. But I don't want him to be the Savior Of The World. Give them good powers; but make them work for it. So Many Damn Songs. I know a lot of people really love the soundtrack. And maybe it's because I don't know most of them that I was just *shrug emoji* about them. I didn't dislike them. But it just.... I just don't care??? Focus less on that and focus more on, you know, everything else? Another Dance Scene. The first episode? I stopped watching after that dance scene because I had severe second hand embarrassment. And then? Came back to it. And now I'm so endeared by it. But the second season... IDK. It felt forced. I didn't like it. I skip past that part now.

Another apocalypse. You’ve been there, done that! Give us something else, kthx.

The siblings being stupid. I just.... I just don't think they're stupid?? I think they can be idiots, and be dumbasses. But in terms of Knowledge.... I think they all had a pretty comprehensive education. Shakespeare. Seven languages. Homer. Dancing lessons. Lessons pertaining to music. I really hate how they made Diego and Luther out to be stupid. Luther went to the goddamn moon! He just doesn't have street smarts, etc. Diego might have yeeted himself through a window, but he's not entirely an idiot. He shows off. He does dumb things; that doesn't make HIM dumb.

Oh, the twins thing. Like. Nah. Whatever man.

Dave. God. That's how little I give a shit about Dave... I entirely forgot to put him on the list until now... I don't hate Dave. I just... I just do not care one bit. It was okay in S2. But like. Can we have Klaus processing his death, and just... give him something not-Dave-centric? I don't think we ever "move on" from the loss of loved ones. But same as Lila: I don't want it to be a major part of his storyline. I like to think we saw Klaus "letting go" at the end of S2. Let's keep it there?

*

Fucking hell.... I sound like Nothing Makes Me Happy. But that's not true. I just.... need to be less grumpy for me to write that list. Anyway. This has been a salty-ass-bitch-post, courtesy of Spikey. 

[pumpkinsandsuckers]

Watermelon

AU where the only thing that happened was stopping the Heart of Etheria?

Princesses are still princesses, Catra loves parkour, and yeah, Adora might be able to crush a watermelon with her bare hands.

Catradora with hints of other ships

((I wrote this in a frenzy and don’t regret it at all))

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Fright Zone, Somewhere High Up, Thursday

“Right, you’re telling me she can crush a watermelon with her bare hands.” Catra scoffed, scratching her neck. God, why did she agree to a haircut? The chilly breeze sweeping past her now exposed neck was unnerving. She felt so vulnerable. 

“I mean, well, it is a rumour.” Scorpia laughed, fumbling with the equipment. “Whoops.”

“Hey watch it!” Catra hissed as she dived forward, catching the camera. “Yeah, it better be just a rumour.”

“Great reflexes! As expected of Catra!” Entrapta bounced forward, propelled by her robotic hair. “Speaking of rumours, my friends from Bright Moon have been hearing stories about your hair!”

“What stories?” the black claws from Catra’s fingers extended, sharp and menacing.

“Oh, you know, the stories about your hair being so thick because it contained so many secrets.”

Catra’s eyes bulged. “WHAT?!”

“Yeah, and the other one about She-ra’s amazing physique. Have you heard? She can crush a watermelon with her bare hands? I’d love to see that! Collecting data from a being with that strength can help me with my research!”

“Alright, enough about Bright Moon. It’s a place for academic snobs and spoilt princesses.” Catra sighed as Scorpia shot her a look of disappointment. “Fine. Not you guys, alright.” Her frown turned into a slight smile, and she stretched. “You guys are fine. Now, let’s get this video done.”

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Bright Moon Keep, Friday

“Whoa, did you see what was posted on Super Pal Trio’s page?” Bow bounced up and down with excitement.

“Bow, not again. Those sort of people from the Fright Zone are dangerous! I can’t believe you’re following them.” Glimmer groaned, and looked at the girl behind her. “Fine, not all people from the Fright Zone are dangerous.”

“What sort of corny name is Super Pal Trio anyway?” Adora laughed. “That doesn’t seem like a name that would fit in the Fright Zone.”

“Oh, the Super Pal Trio is the best group! Second to us, anyway.” Bow’s eyes shone, and he swiped through his pad to show Glimmer and Adora the content pushed out by the independent group. 

“Scorpia here is the muscle, but she also packs a powerful voice! She’s actually performed for many people!” Bow pointed to a video of a woman with an undercut, and-

“Really dangerous looking claws.” Glimmer muttered. 

Bow glared at Glimmer, but continued. “And Entrapta! We’ve met her before she moved to the Fright Zone! Ah, what one will do for friendship and love. She’s a genius inventor, and right now, she’s working on developing prosthetic limbs! I wonder for whom though, she doesn’t have a strong interest in organic creatures.”

“Wow, that sounds impressive. I really should start using this… social media more.” Adora squinted. “It’s a trio, right?”

“Yeah! The last person is pretty famous in the Fright Zone! You may have heard of rumours of her too!”

“No, not really.” Glimmer and Adora replied in unison. 

“Fine, your majesties.” Bow swiped, and let out an incredibly loud yelp. “She cut her hair?!?!”

“Who?!” Adora asked, and snatched the pad out of Bow’s hands.

The video was titled “Cat jumping dangerously”

“It seems that Glimmer is right.” Adora mumbled, and watched. 

A brief shot of the skyline, familiar, bulky architecture with protruding pipes and pillars. The camera focused on a pair of legs, clad in black pants clinging to the skin. A black tail swished.

Adora bit back a gasp.

The video continued panning up, and right before it reached the upper back, the person took off running, sliding underneath a pillar, vaulting over short walls, and leaping from roof to roof. Adora focused on her so much, her face was inching closer to the pad. 

And before she knew it, the figure turned around, having completed her run, and stuck her tongue out at the camera. A smirk, and the video ended.

“That’s..”

“She cut her hair!” Bow wailed.

“Well, she does look more adorable like this.” Glimmer commented. “Her long hair looked like a hazard in her past videos.”

Bow gasped. “No. Way. Glimmer! You had been watching their videos! Oh I knew it!”

“That’s Catra?!” Adora broke Bow’s celebration, and he stopped twirling Glimmer around. 

“Yeah. The Parkour Cat!” Bow struck a pose, completely unrelated to parkour.

“She cut her hair!” Adora passed the pad back to Bow, and started to pace up and down.

“Yeah. Wait, do you know her?” Bow raised an eyebrow. This was unlike Adora. This was…

“Gay panic.” Glimmer sighed.

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Fright Zone, Monday

“So, who even is She-ra?” Catra asked Lonnie, trying to appear as intimidating as she could. She was utterly frustrated, and was going to figure it out by herself. Pictures had shown a blonde, tall, ridiculously good looking female dressed in an equally ridiculous outfit, and Catra would not tell anyone, but she found this ‘She-ra’ to be rather hot. And familiar looking.

“Uh, Catra, She-ra is a princess? She helped bring balance to the universe? Remember when Etheria was about to blow up because of some weird princess magic?”

Catra folded her arms. “Urgh, princesses.”

“Yeah! She-ra is the greatest princess! She is strong, beautiful, and really cool! Also, I’ve heard that she can crush a watermelon with her bare hands.”

“No one asked you, Kyle!” Catra shoved him - well, gentler than before, and stalked off. “What is with watermelons?!”

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Bright Moon Keep, Thursday

“Alright, I got us invitations for Entrapta’s and Scorpia’s party in the Fright Zone. I know what you’re thinking, it’s dangerous! Why should we go? But come on Glimmer, it’ll be so much fun!” Bow pleaded, almost on his knees as he clung onto Glimmer.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Really? You mean it?” Bow grinned, and threw Glimmer into the air. “Hooray!”

Glimmer teleported right beside him. “Yeah. We are princesses. We got the invites.”

“Wait what? So I had to help Mermista out for nothing? Argh!”

“I’m going too.” Adora stood up, looking at Glimmer. “You know what that means.”

“Ahhh!” Glimmer shrieked. “Makeover time!”

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Fright Zone, A Revamped Area, Saturday

“Oh, I really don’t know about this.” Scorpia whimpered, swinging her claws around.

“You’ll be great, I promise!”

Scorpia smiled at her communication pad. “Aww, thanks, Perfuma. I’m looking forward to seeing you later. Uh, and the rest too. Yeah.”

A light, airy laughter, and Perfuma concluded the call with an “I’m looking forward to seeing you too, Scorpia. Ok, bye!”

“What a dork.” Catra laughed, leaping from a pipe, landing perfectly on her feet. “But I guess I’m kinda… happy for you.”

“Oh, Kittycat!” Scorpia laughed, lunging forward to smother Catra in a vice-like hug. “I knew you cared for me.”

“Alright, alright! Watch the hair! It’s hard to work with short hair!” Catra wriggled out of the hug, straightening her clothes. A red top, black formal pants, ripped at the knees, and a black blazer slung around her shoulders. 

“Looking good, Catra!” Entrapta yelled from her corner, still tinkering with some bots.

“I always do.” Catra smirked, and pushed Scorpia out of the room. “Now then, we have your debut party to attend. Entrapta, if you come out now, I’ll get you a whole room for bots.”

“Alright! Bots!” 

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Fright Zone, Party Venue, Main hall

“Oh man, I knew the Fright Zone underwent some changes, but this is great!” Bow’s eyes sparkled. “I’m going to find Entrapta to ask her about some tech stuff! Whoo!”

“I’m going with him.” Glimmer shimmered, and disappeared.

“Haha. Cool, I guess it’s just me.” Adora laughed, and received a reassuring pat on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Adora, I am here with you too.” Perfuma smiled. “Frosta and Mermista have decided to explore the intricate network in the Fright Zone, but I’ll be here with you.”

The lights dimmed, and a spotlight shone on the stage. 

“Er, hi, I’m Scorpia. Some of you guys may know me, and this is my first party as a princess.” She looked around the room. The lights were too bright, and she couldn’t make out anyone. “Oh boy. Er, I’m going to sing, so yeah. I’d love for my friends to be here to hear me so yeah.”

“Hit it!” Catra yelled from behind the curtains.

“Catra?” Adora frowned, and broke away from Perfuma, who was too distracted to notice anything other than Scorpia’s stage presence.

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

Fright Zone, Party Venue, Shadow Weaver’s Daisy Garden.

Running away into the open was a mistake. Here, she was very obvious, and soon enough, she had drawn a crowd of familiar faces. 

“It’s the She-ra!” “She-ra!” “The She-ra!” “Sign my arm!” “No, sign my shirt!” “Sign my watermelons!”

“Wow, haha, that’s really kind of all of you.” Adora chuckled, eyes darting around to find an alternative route. “Welp, out of luck.”

“Hey, what’s going on here?!” A loud, slightly angry voice rang out, and the crowd quietened. “There better not be any damage to the plants here!” A figure leapt from the balcony above, onto the soft grass.

“But you just stomped on that flower.”

Catra glared at the bold creature who said that, and he yelped, taking off. A few others followed suit. 

“Catra!” The rest yelled, and took out their markers again. “Sign my arm!” “Sign my head!” “Sign my watermelons!!”

“What is with watermelons?!” Catra hissed loudly, before spotting the initial cause of the commotion. “Adora?”

She jumped over the crowd rushing towards her, stepping on a particularly tall reptilian as a stepping stone, before somersaulting and landing on the ground.

“Catra stepped on me! My life is complete!”

“Urgh, gross.” Catra ran towards the familiar blonde. “Hey Adora.”

“Catra?”

“You’re She-ra? Huh. I’d love to chat, but we should run. I hope you’re not that much heavier.” Catra hoisted Adora onto her arms, bridal-style, nearly heaving from the weight. “Okay nope, but this will do. I don’t think you can run in your dress.”

“Oh, I can’t, but She-ra can.” Adora grinned, and Catra dropped her.

“No, I don’t want any magical princess-”

“For the honour of Grayskull!”

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

Fright Zone, Now-cleaner Sewers

Mermista paused, looking at an equally concerned Frosta. 

“I don’t know why, but I think something reckless has happened.” Frosta folded her arms. “And I wasn’t part of it?!”

“I guess Adora became She-ra. Urgh, why.”

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Fright Zone, Somewhere High Up

“Adora! Put! Me! Down!” Catra shrieked, her claws betraying her as she dug into She-ra’s arms, their positions now reversed.

“Ow, Catra!” She-ra landed on a roof, and dissipated, leaving Adora, hair unravelling from her ponytails, cheeks flushed, and straddled by Catra.

They stared at each other, taking in the physical changes, the softness of faces now replaces with a rugged toughness. And yet, they will still soft, so beautiful in each others’ eyes. Catra had to drag her eyes away from Adora’s chest, in particular. Adora wasn’t doing any better with Catra’s unbuttoned shirt. But that moment passed, and they were gazing at each other tenderly.

“Hey, Adora.” Catra smiled. “There’s a lot I want to ask you, but right now. I really missed you.” She leaned down, tucking her chin into the gap between Adora’s shoulder and neck. “I missed you.” She took a deep breath, and felt Adora return the gesture.

“I missed you too.” Adora held their pose for some time, before Catra sprang up, embarrassed by her affectionate actions.

“Urgh.” Catra sat up, pulling Adora up as well. 

“Heh, never knew you were so honest with your feelings.” Adora teased, smiling.

“Yeah, emotions are a thing I’m working on.” Catra smiled, scratching her bare neck again.

“I never knew you were a star! Parkour Cat, huh?” 

“For the record, I did not choose that name. And you! You were a princess? You’re… She-ra?!”

“I am. I’m sorry, I left without saying anything. It was just… I finally found out who I really was, and I had to go on a quest and everything was happening so quickly-” She inhaled, missing Catra’s scent already. “I didn’t get to say so many things.”

“You know, I was really mad at the start. I took it out on so many people, until I was alone. Then I learnt to rebuild myself, my friendships, and well,” Catra leaned forward, tucking a stray strand behind Adora’s ear. “I wanted to be a better person for someone I cared about.”

“I never stopped thinking about you.” Adora sighed, leaning into Catra’s palm.

“Me neither.” Catra cupped Adora’s face. “I love you. I always did.”

“I love you too, Catra.” Adora pressed their foreheads together again.

“You’re such an idiot.”

…

“By the way, Adora, can you really crush a watermelon with your bare hands?”

“Er, sure, as She-ra.”

“Man, that’s really hot.”

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[tammyhybrid21]

Do you think that in the Tadeo Jones universe, some people (average or rich people) think living mummies aren't persons but some creatures they can capture and claim as their own 'cuz they have no rights? (as mentioned by Tad in Movie 2) Kind of like the Apex's view of denizens in IT. I think this could be adressed in Tad 3. But I'll be sad because Mummy is going to find the hard way that for powerful people, his feelings and opinions doesn't matter (Twice, if we count the Spanish conquista)

Ohhhh man!

I have been-- stewing over how best to answer this since I saw it yesterday, because part of me has IDEAS-- the other part has a rant that has kind of been building for a while in general when you just examine the movies and the setting and even the actual community represented in reality(that being Archaeologists not-- well)

And LOOK-- I have TEA!

Frustrated, frustrated tea regarding other aspects of how this all could play out that basically boils down to the one major issue that a lot of those groups has is the issue of "But WE all know!" and the we've boxed this in already.

Which-- Debatably, Tad isn't the only one with some issues... But Sara has-- at least insofar as her reactions to Mummy in movie 2, come to terms past her more nebulous in concept repeated line.

"Mummies can't be alive, it's a contradiction in terms" 

Which-- actually might be an issue that's just on the question of the life/death binary more than it is actually a question of whether someone is human/a person or not. And we ALL know she's definitely got Major Respect over Tad--

Like, I will write a proper analysis over their "Mummy gives advice/pep talk" scenes later-- but--

Sara doesn't just take it and run how Tadeo does-- and she doesn't get hyped about it either. It's soft and subtle and just ARGH--

--

Which, okay beside the point, but I have-- so much on this idea of how people view Mummy-- Because let's for a moment consider what Tad actually says-- in answer to Mummy's "What is with you?" and I want to also talk on what people tend to associate with and call monsters... and how... that might also factor into this whole mess.

"Listen you're a mummy, you scare people. In my world you're a zombie!"

Which-- okay, on the surface this is just an on the nose point about how well, Mummy is undead. Ahahah, the living dead and I suppose living mummies are their own form of zombie-- although really it's more like they're cousins as zombies are usually more... in process of decay while mummies are preserved/petrified... Buuuut in any case... not the point here really.

But rather...

Let's talk about how "Monster Movies" come in here. And what zombies tend to be synonymous with nowadays. You know-- for the most part. Mindless, brainless, sometimes killers though not always-- But ultimately-- Does... anyone actually watch zombie shows for in-depth exploration of zombies ever anymore? Aside a few exceptions, and same in games-- Zombies are relegated to just brainless/mindless monsters.

Which--

On the other side of that-- monsters.

Tad never quite uses that word but--

"First, you're not human"

Mummies-- are monsters. In stories and fiction. Used to scare, used to awe, used to add scenery dressing, spooky, freaky, creepy-- and when they're not-- well it's rare. But if they're not the villains, they're not "human". Which think about that for a moment, in all the monster stories we have but a few where the monsters aren't outright put in that position.

But a monster is usually in a story put into one role and box. And if they're not outright there just to be spooky, or the whole new misunderstood monster trope-- which well, that's a whole other thing. But we all know the usual "monster shtick".

Violent, scary, simple, dumb, driven by base impulses, nonhuman, Very, very often as lesser, other, and something to be feared/hunted/destroyed.

And while modern day does move away from that--

ISSUES still prevail.

And I have-- just got to aside here, but like, thinking on this but-- the Phone Mummy sign outside of Tad's window as a child has some... other weird things. Because as a wild aside, my dumb brain has decided to A - B link this with a series I watched on television from 2005-2007

Because of THIS stupid Mummy Scam Artist character. And it's dumb, has nothing to do with the issue of mummies(and other potential beings and creatures of myth and legend) having less rights. But this whole phone billboard-- with the Mummy, it's legit right up this character's kind of scam alley and I may or may not one day just rewatch his two villain episodes to get his personality clear in my head JUST to do a dumb crossover.(And for nostalgia, but that's not news)

BUT--

Advertising does tell us some things already. In how people possibly think and could respond/react.

Yet still-- there is something more I think that we're missing in this conversation on how people will potentially treat the discovery of a living mummy. Or really any supernatural being. If not with fear(which look-- fear the unknown, fear different, fear of monsters), arguably those who're intrigued, interested could be far, far worse.

Also-- I just have, much tea on other responses for even those who might briefly "respect" him. Because look-- Mummy would be a priceless artefact in a way, treasure and discovery all on his own-- BUT also a new potential source of information of a culture that for the most part has been lost and erased by history.

People could and would ask questions.

Whiiich is where I have doubts about how they will accept the answers to those questions. Because here's the thing, for all the Archaeology community loves to act as if they let discoveries speak for themselves, and even I suppose historians-- There are just-- so many times I watch and listen to documentaries and get SO FRUSTRATED-- because they're stubborn IDIOTS, who actually refuse to take in the evidence in front of them of any truths outside of what they're SO SURE has to be the TRUTH!

For those who speak of learning all about history and it's secrets, they're so damn high and mighty to reject anything that doesn't immediately fit with already established "facts". It must be an anomaly, aliens, can't be what we're actually seeing right--

And well even people today interacting-- Like-- I've seen people try to correct someone on the pronunciation of their own name before.

So I am almost certain there would be at least one idiot who'd be all high and mighty and just-- Mummy has LIVED it. It's his culture he grew up in and some idiot speaking over him saying his lying, which I just-- I am certain would happen(but probably not in canon because who would DARE?!)-- Just "EXCUSE ME?!"

Which is it's own kind of disrespect and hell, crash Tad's pillars again. Yes please!

Which... on that account--

I kiiiind of want to talk about how Tad needs a smack on this... and that wake up to the truths of the high and mighty and bloody prideful issues of the community. BUT more than that-- I actually want to think about that point you made about how Mummy's supposed transformation in movie 3 comes across and the further themes of this question of humanity and rights is in regards to this whole issue.

Because yeah, there's the issue, front and CENTER.

The question/implication of this resembling Ammut, and implied loss of humanity. Along with the fact that Tad's the likely TRUE CENTER of the curse-- since he's the idiot who opened the sarcophagus in the first place...

WHICH CAN I JUST SAY--

There's a very good possibility in regards to that issue-- potentially having to do with some of Tad's more... subtle issues. Or even the ones that are close to the surface and yet not. I've screamed already on Tadeo's Internalized Ableism... along with some small nods to Mummy's own less severe cast with that but-- This is directly playing into that image of monsters and nonhumanity--

And I could probably add an additional few pages of speculation onto this but--

I actually am... also worried for the pets. If only because uhhh, have you seen the original two Tadeo Jones shorts from before it become movies? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2XxhNMbpE2A & https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uoJBzI2AUOw

I mean not assuming anything, but I can definitely believe they wouldn't be above having that threat present at the least.(I mean just that second one... with what I guess is concept-Jeff) Even if Mummy is most definitely going to be the one at the MOST RISK. But with that-- comes the question of humanity.

And while yeah-- I do imagine, all too easily there will be many people more focused on the discovery-- I think there's an interesting mess that Tadeo is going to be FORCED to confront with this-- in how he has that displaced view.

Because here's the weird thing.

I've kind of mentioned it before but not really expanded or explained very clearly-- but for all of Tad's issues... he cares about Mummy probably more than he even really realizes. It's in small to big things as well. Again-- for all his trash behaviour in movie 2, I do think a lot of it is very, very misplaced attempts at some form of protection...

Which I also really want to at some point make a post that's just...

"Tad's I'm Helping moments and how they made things worse for everyone"

But that's for later... For now...

I kind of want to grab a few things.

"You're already dead, RUN!"

I also actually counted how quickly he ran back to Mummy for this moment, and it's LITERALLY two seconds, from when Mummy collapses to Tadeo's check on him. Also I'd like to mention with this-- he's supposedly tunnel visioning on Sara(and he ruins it within the next scene pretty quickly)

...

And for all they're kind of dumb decisions.

DEBATABLY-- when he's trying to hide Mummy.

"Hide"

Ugh-- BUT Tadeo has a very... complicated issue here really. Because yes-- Tad very much has that nonhuman issue, but he CARES. And then-- there's how the whole Ammut thing feels set and the symbolic meaning there(ALSO INTERESTING SARA SEEMINGLY ISN'T CAUGHT BY THAT). But here's the thing--

With Ammut kiiind of come those scales and the feather.

It's not like that mythology isn't unknown-- but more to the point-- it feels kind of like force Tad to confront his mixed up view. On Mummy's humanity or lack of-- But really as the audience Mummy feels the most human at this point in time-- whiiich we can get into a debate on what even is human nature later-- but--

I am kind of hoping that we get a callout of a number of things regarding Tad's behaviour.

With some primary focus on this dynamic between him and Mummy and really seeing how he responds to that idea that Mummy is nonhuman to really be thrown into full view and scope. And listen...

You cannot cheat the scales.

...

As an aside generally, if he is turning into a form or version of Ammut even if initially the community is a danger because he's a living mummy that creates a whole other issue of how he'd be viewed as a danger due to the role that's possibly growing more and more of an instinct.

But yeah... I will probably now make a more formulated rant on this later, or like, minor expansions on the topic but-- yeah.

I have been CHEWING on these thoughts, ideas and concepts for a while.

With additional tea. Because when people think they know something too often they refuse to see differently.

(Also at some point I am going to make a personal rant on duality verses binary due to insistent terminology issues I have but ugh)

[morrigan24601]

More Family Context

So my last post about my oldest stepson and daughter-in-law expecting made me realize that I have never really talked about my stepsons on here before, even though my boyfriend/partner and I have been together for almost 7 years? So I figured I’d do a post about that. Sorry in advance for this - there’s a lot of drama involved, unfortunately.

CW: divorce, custody issues, homophobia/biphobia, manipulation, abuse, parental alienation

Also, obligatory disclaimer that I do not give permission to ANYONE to share this story without my express consent. (I’m doing this because I’ve seen personal stories get shared from Reddit onto YouTube and whatnot and I really do not want that to happen here.)

Looooooooooong, looooooooong post.

...

...

...

...

Years ago, long before I even met my dude, he went through a supremely nasty divorce. His sons with his ex-wife were very small at the time (youngest son was still just a baby/toddler). There was a lot of emotional and verbal abuse on her end. He didn’t talk about it much because he didn’t think anyone would believe him. 

Things gradually got worse instead of better after the divorce, unfortunately. As soon as she found out that he had started dating men after the divorce, she began spreading rumors among their mutual friends/acquaintances that he had always been gay (he’s bi), that he had never loved her (he had), and that she had just been a beard for him and this was why they had gotten divorced (it was actually because he had stuck it out for as long as possible and couldn’t handle her abuse any longer). She got very weird about him dating men - like, ultra-homophobic, ridiculous, “I don’t want my sons being molested by your gay boyfriends because I think all/most gay men are secretly pedophiles” weird. She began refusing to let the boys come over to his place as long as he was in a relationship with a man. “If you date women instead, I’ll consider it.” 

In hindsight, he absolutely could have fought this in court because they had joint custody and there was no way she should have been able to do this and get away with it. Unfortunately, the state we live in has always been extraordinarily conservative and this was the early-to-mid 2000s, and he worried that he would face additional homophobia/biphobia in court. He also worried that fighting her over anything in court would make everything exponentially worse for both him and the kids. So he just let it go and saw the boys at her place or a neutral location whenever he could.

Eventually he moved out of state to try to make more money. His ex-wife remarried and, almost immediately, she and her new husband began harassing him about giving up his parental rights so that her new husband could adopt the boys and they could “have a real dad”. He was obviously not okay with this, but the manipulation went on for two years. At one point he ran into some temporary difficulty paying child support, and she jumped on this as “proof” that he was a terrible deadbeat dad who didn’t deserve his children.

So finally, after years of his anxiety and depression being exploited by his ex-wife, he finally began thinking that maybe his boys would actually be better off without him, that they’d be better off with a “real family” with a dad who was married to their mom. He drove back to home state and signed away his rights, and it was, he’s told me, the absolute worst day of his life. 

She didn’t bother to show up to the hearing where he signed the papers. He found out shortly afterward (and this almost sounds like a bad movie plot, but it’s true) that she had recently divorced the man who was supposed to adopt the boys and hadn’t bothered to inform him of this fact. 

She refused to let him see or contact the boys in any way after he signed the papers, and legally, there was no longer anything he could possibly do about it. He attempted to contact them through her quite a few times, but always in vain and he eventually stopped trying because it was too painful. She eventually remarried again and this time her new husband actually did adopt the boys. 

Years went by. He and I met and started dating. He told me about the boys on our first date, when I told him I had kids and asked if he had any. “Yes...and also no,” was his somber response. He was...remarkably restrained while talking about his ex-wife that first time. “She’s a strong woman,” he said, “and I hope she’s been a good mom.” I only learned later how abusive she had actually been to him. He sort of...handwaved a lot of it, even when he did tell me. I actually had to tell him “that was abuse. She abused you. Like...hardcore.” 

I asked if he ever thought about contacting the kids after they turned 18. He said he definitely wanted to, but he was sort of scared about it. 

Fast forward to about 2 1/2 years ago. His oldest son was over 18 now. He was contacted by his oldest son’s girlfriend on Facebook. The message was something along the lines of “Hi, are you [son’s] biological dad? [Son’s mom] and [son] told me some stuff about you, and I thought I’d find you and talk to you about it, because a lot of it seemed really...off. [Son’s mom] said that you were gay and that this was why you divorced [son’s mom] and that after you signed the papers you didn’t want anything to do with the kids, that you never wanted to call or talk to them or anything, and [son] totally believes this because that’s what she’s been telling him his whole life. That seemed weird to me though and I wanted to find out the truth.”

He told her the truth. She was sort of floored, but not overly surprised, because she’d had her own emotionally abusive run-ins with her eventual mother-in-law. There were a lot of conversations over the course of the next year, a lot of her trying to convince oldest son to talk to his bio dad and a lot of resistance from oldest son because of everything he had been raised to believe by his mother. My partner wrote his oldest son a long message at one point explaining some things and telling him how much he loved him while trying to stay as neutral as possible about his ex-wife/son’s mom in order not to stir too much up. Total radio silence from oldest son. We kind of accepted at this point that we might not hear from him for a long time (if ever). Still, partner was still in contact with oldest son’s gf (who at that point had become oldest son’s fiancee), and she and oldest son got married last year. She apologized that they didn’t invite us to the wedding; there was still a lot of hostile awkwardness on oldest son’s part. We understood, and didn’t fault them for it at all.

Finally, a few months after they’d been married, DIL (daughter-in-law) said she wanted to come over, and we agreed. Unexpectedly, she brought oldest son with her, having finally convinced him to come at the last minute. Oldest son was super polite to both of us, and to my kids, but we found out much later he actually felt super awkward and angry and was just hiding it really well. Fortunately after repeated visits he realized his bio dad was a pretty cool guy and that his mom was, to get right to the point, full of shit. There’s been a lot that we’ve found out from oldest son about his mom’s behavior over the years, which is really unfortunate and honestly backs up everything my partner told me. We thankfully have a great relationship with oldest son and DIL now. 

Youngest son is now 18 as well (almost 19) but, unfortunately, has much the same outlook as oldest son once did and currently wants nothing to do with his bio dad. However, oldest son and youngest son recently went on a roadtrip together and had a very long talk about the whole thing, and youngest son apparently got sort of thoughtful. We’re hopeful that he will eventually come around too. 

Hopefully none of this has sounded like some kind of weird misogyny on my part while talking about my partner’s ex-wife. I just...have zero tolerance for bullies and abusers and she honestly blows my mind. I wanted to believe for a long time that a) there are two sides to every story and the truth of this particular situation possibly lay somewhere in the middle, and b) that maybe she had mellowed over the years and maybe felt at least a twinge remorseful and cooperative about things, but according to oldest son, that is absolutely not the case. She is still holding on to a lot of anger and bitterness and insecurities from her own abusive childhood and she constantly projects those insecurities onto people she’s supposed to love and care for, including her children. She was apparently livid when she found out that oldest son had cultivated a relationship with his bio-dad, because her carefully-constructed narrative of “the father of my oldest children was a terrible person who never wanted his kids” was suddenly in serious jeopardy. DIL has overheard her shit-talking the situation to friends, and oldest son has gotten more than one earful of “how could you do this to meeeeee, I raised you and protected you” which is just...ARGH. (On the flip side, she apparently got this shocked Pikachu face when oldest son told her about me - a woman, in a loving, long-term relationship with the man that for years has been the subject of her “he divorced me because he isn’t into women” narrative. That gave me a really good laugh!) 

Anyway, that is the saga of my bonus sons and their unfortunate alienation from my partner/their bio dad, and the reason I wasn’t able to help raise them in their teens (I so wish I could have). I love them and my DIL so much, more than I honestly ever thought possible to love kids who aren’t “mine”, but like...they are. They’re my kids as much as my bio kids are. I felt that way long before I met them. My bonus sons are part of my partner, part of his heart, so they became my kids in my head immediately, and DIL became my kid immediately too. So I love them. It’s automatic for me. And I love my grandbaby-on-the-way with all my heart too and I can’t wait to meet that sweet little bean. 

[findingniamho]

New Fic!!

Hey everyone! Hope you’re having a good day! Here is a wedding fic I wrote (and what better day to post it than Simon’s birthday?). You can read it on AO3 here or below the cut. Hope you enjoy it! :)🐟

BAZ We’re going to be late. I keep checking my watch and each time I do, time seems to have jumped forwards at an unnatural rate. I half wonder whether something has somehow managed to sneak into the watch and is now pulling the hands around just to mess with me. Except that the car radio says the same thing. I check again.

“Basilton, if you check that damn watch one more time, I’m throwing it out of the window.” Fiona. She can always be relied upon to treat a situation calmly and delicately. I turn to face the driver’s seat, where she’s sitting in her black dress. She always insisted that she would wear black at my wedding. “To mourn the loss of having you all to myself to annoy. Besides, you’re going to be wearing black, aren’t you?”

I couldn’t argue with that. I’m wearing a black suit with a matching waistcoat and bowtie (as Simon would say, bowties are cool. I prefer the term sophisticated, but there you go). There’s a rose on my lapel (an actual one, the suit itself is plain this time) and, of course, the ring that Simon slipped on my finger a few months ago. The ring that made me believe that all of this was possible again.

It was inevitable, really. All through America, when we were on opposite sides the car or diner tables or motel floors, both of us were silently reaching for the other. It was a relief when we finally got there. When his hand and his gaze could find mine and we could fall in love all over again. I smile down at my hands.

I’m getting married, I say to myself.

I’m getting married to Simon Snow.

SIMON

This is perfect. We’re breezing along in Penny’s car. It’s a hot day so the window’s open and there’s a warm breeze floating though, ruffling my hair. If I close my eyes, I’m transported back to America and we’re cruising along the highway with nothing but blue skies, endless fields and an old radio to keep us company. Penny’s humming Here Comes the Bride and I’m leaning back in my seat, picturing the day ahead. We’ll arrive first and get into the chapel. It’s the same one that Baz’s parents got married in. All the Pitches have gotten married there. That’s gonna be me soon. A Pitch. Simon Grimm-Pitch. I never thought I’d see the day. I’m going to have a name with something attached to it. Sure, the things attached might be villainy and dark magic, but it’s also attached to a family. I’m going to officially be part of a family. Of course, Penny, Shepard and even Agatha feel like family to me but now I’m going to know what it’s like to have a mother and a father. Sitting around a dinner table at Christmas, small squabbles that are forgotten soon after, family jokes that no one else quite gets. All of that is just at the end of this car ride, along with Baz.

Baz, who saved me from the mage.

Baz, who saved me from myself.

Baz, with his grey eyes and sarcastic smile and not-quite-right nose. Who loves me, all of me.

I sit further back, putting my arms behind my head. My wings and tail are spelled away for now, but we’re bringing them back for the ceremony. Baz said that if he was marrying me, he wanted to marry all of me. That’s also another reason why Baz will be the one walking down the aisle towards me; I don’t want anyone unconscious at my wedding.

Here Comes the Bride stops abruptly and Penny exclaims: “Simon! You’ll crease your suit!”

“Argh! Sorry, Pen.”

“That’s okay, Simon.”

A sit back up and she glances at me for a moment before turning to face the road again. I haven’t seen her smile like that in a long time. I think she’s more excited than me about all this, really. She and I spent hours making her car clean enough so that I could sit in it in my suit. She’s wearing a yellow dress, similar to the one that Baz nicked for her when we were running out of money and time. She worried about me a lot, before. She and Baz both did. I try not to think about those times too much. I’ll take the time to unpack and deal with those memories one day, but for now, I’m content to just sit here and natter with Penny.

“Do you think you’ll ever get married?”

Penny’s eyes keep firmly fixed on the road.

“I don’t know, maybe.” She’s paying extra-close attention to her mirrors as we change lanes.

“What about Shep?”

“You’re wondering if I think that Shep would get married?”

“No! Well, yes. To you.”

A pause. Then, “Don’t be absurd! We’ve only known each other a few months. And he probably wouldn’t be interested in me anyway.”

She shakes her head as I’ve seen her shake it many times before, like she’s trying to throw an idea out of her brain. I smirk at her.

“You hesitated.”

“Because I was thinking it through!”

I raise an eyebrow, Baz style. “So, it was worth thinking about?”

She’s going red. Interesting. “You know well enough that it’s important to consider every eventuality, Simon. Anyway, this is your wedding day, not mine.”

“I would point out that you’re changing the subject, but you’re right.” I turn to look out at the window again, my thoughts turning back to the day ahead and I smile. “It is.”

AGATHA

This is probably the most exercise that I’ve done since I was at school, where I spent most of my time running with Simon from whatever happened to be chasing him that day. All day, Shepard and I have been loading things from his truck into the hall opposite the chapel and then putting them out: streamers, tablecloths that complement the napkins, speakers for the band, glasses, champagne to go in the glasses, cutlery (which Shepard kept putting out wrong), centrepieces, balloons and loads of other wedding stuff. We’ve been here all morning and we’re still nowhere near done. It makes me wish that I hadn’t left my wand at home.

I plonk yet another box of plates on the table closest to the door and survey the room. It does look pretty good, I have to admit. I reckon even mother will approve. Everything is white and gold, and the place settings look spectacular. Streamers are hanging from the ceiling and the sunlight that streams through the window glints off the glasses, making them sparkle. I smile as I look over to the table to where Simon and Baz will sit later today as a married couple, next to Penny – who’s been made “best woman” – and Baz’s parents. I expect a part of me to be sad that Simon will be sitting there next to someone who isn’t me. But instead, there’s a calm in me, a peace I haven’t felt since, well, ever. For the first time in my life, I feel like I’m truly where I belong. Not at Watford, pretending to care about being a good Mage. Not in California, pretending to care about levelling up and changing the world. But in between, actually caring about these people who now surround me.

I think deep down, I’ve known for a long time that this is how all this would end. And Merlin, aren’t I glad.

“Agatha!” calls Shepard.

“Coming!” I yell back. I take one last look at the empty, quiet room before stepping back out into the sun.

***

We’re nearly ready now. I’m changed into my bridesmaid’s dress (Baz’s siblings and I will all wear matching pale pink) and I’m standing outside the chapel, putting together confetti baskets for the children. Shepard comes around the corner to help, phone in hand. He’s changed, too. It’s a strange sight, Shepard in a suit. He holds up the phone.

“That was Simon. They’re nearly here.”

My stomach flutters nervously. “Are we ready?”

“All set! Nice job, Agatha.”

“Thanks. You too.”

We sit in silence for a moment. Shep’s restless, he keeps fidgeting, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just a bit nervous I guess.”

I look up at him, where he’s squinting into the late May sun, still not staying still.

“Why? You realize you’re not getting married, right?” He goes a bit red at that. Honestly, I’m surrounded by fools. First Simon and Baz, now Shepard and Penelope. It almost makes me wished that I’d stayed in California, just to avoid all these will-they-won't-they shenanigans. Almost.

“Well, I guess that I don’t really feel like I fit in here. I’m going to be the only Talker, the only Normal, at this wedding.”

That’s true, I guess. Some of Baz’s family were a bit funny about letting him come. Some things never change, I guess. But he has saved their lives several times, in suppose. In America, and after.

“Baz and Simon wanted you here, Shepard. They care for you, very much. As do I. And Penelope. Once you’ve survived a crisis at Watford, you’re bonded for life, I guess.”

He takes a deep breath, then smiles quietly down at me. “Yeah, you are.”

He looks back up the road, to where we parked the truck this morning, along with some of the things for the wedding. The planners have packed up and gone now, so it’s just sitting there by itself. Shepard points a thumb over his shoulder. “Hey, so there’s one more box in the back. Feeling strong?”

I flex my non-existent biceps. “Of course.”

I stand up and together we walk back to the truck.

SIMON

As we pull up to the chapel, I can sense that something’s wrong. The air is jumpy and static, and there’s a funny smell coming from somewhere. It’s too sweet, like that time that I stuffed 20 marshmallows into my mouth (Baz dared me, so it was justified). Next to me, Penny starts sneezing.

“Pen?”

When she turns to me, I see that her eyes are streaming. “Simon! It’s – achoo – it’s-.” But then she’s cut off my several more sneezes before she can speak. Her voice is hoarse, like the words are trapped in her throat. “Pixie dust.”

“Pixie dust?”

“I’d know that smell anywhere,” she wheezes, before sneezing several more times. There must be loads of it to make her react like this. Outside, I notice that several of our guests are here: some of Baz’s family, the Bunces and Agatha’s parents are all gathered outside the chapel. And all of them are sneezing.

“Stay here.” I slide out of the car to investigate. As I approach the crowd, Shepard and Agatha emerge from it. Both of them are changed for the ceremony and Agatha’s dress ripples out behind her as she runs urgently towards me.

“Simon!” Agatha exclaims.

“What’s going on?” I ask, looking between Agatha, who seems to be holding back tears and Shepard, whose face is drawn and worried.

“We were setting up,” Agatha starts, voice shaking, “when we realized that there was one more box to unpack, so we went to the truck to get it. We figured that it was for the chapel, not the hall because everything had already been set up in there. But when we opened it up, it… it…”

“It blew up,” Shepard finishes for her.

“It blew up?”

“Kaboom.” He gestures with his hands. “I think it was an invisible box that an ogre that I met in the Andes planted on me because I accidentally used his toothbrush.”

“That’s gross,” Agatha mutters. He ignores her. “They’re tricky things, come in and out of sight as they please. I thought it was just another box of wedding things.”

“So now there’s tonnes of pixie dust everywhere. It’s fine in smaller quantities but this-.” She sneezes. “It’s not good, Simon.”

Shepard puts an arm out to the sneezing guests. “We told them to wait outside. We don’t want them to get any closer but there’s nowhere else for miles where we could go to get help.”

“Is Baz here yet?”

“No, he said that he and his aunt are running late. He was super stressed out.”

Okay, at least Baz is safe. Typical him, getting so caught up about punctuality though. I would laugh about it if my wedding wasn’t on the verge of being ruined. I look around at our guests. Baz’s relatives stand in small, scattered circles. Penny’s mum has one protective arm around a girl (Priya, I think) and is sneezing into the elbow of the other. In fact, everyone is sneezing uncontrollably. Everyone, except...

I turn to Shep. “How come you’re ok?”

He shrugs. “Guess it only affects magickal folk.”

That explains me, then. I turn towards Agatha. “Get the guests into the reception hall, me and Shep will go into the chapel to try to clear up. Right?”

Shepard nods. “Right.”

Agatha sneezes again, setting off into the crowd. But then she stops and turns. “You’ll get your wedding, Simon. I promise. You’ve given so much to the world; it’s time you got something in return.”

“Thanks, Agatha.” I nod, unable to say anything more around the lump that’s just come to my throat. She smiles with quiet understanding before starting to herd the guests across the road. That’s when I notice how bad the stench is again. I cover my nose with my arm to try to block it out.

“Okay, here’s the plan,” I say to Shepard. My voice comes out muffled through the fabric. “We’ll see if Penny can do anything about this.” I flap my other arm around, trying to waft the sickly-sweet scent away. “Then we’ll try to clean up.”

“You got it, boss.”

Then we head towards Penny’s car where she is (still) sneezing.

BAZ

I knew it. We’re late. As Fiona turns down the road that leads to the chapel, I squint to look ahead to the entrance, where there are only a couple of people hanging back outside. Everyone else must already be inside, waiting for me. Brilliant. As we get closer, I see that it’s Simon and Shepard, standing by Bunce’s car.

That’s odd.

Fiona parks at the opposite side of the road, remaining silent. Fiona’s never silent. I think that she can sense that something’s wrong, too. There’s a strange smell in the air. She lets me get out by myself to see what’s going on. As I approach Bunce’s car, Simon and Shepard turn to me. They’re both dressed ready for the ceremony, Simon in a suit that complements mine. When I look at him, his eyes light up and he smiles.

“Baz!”

It’s still strange, sometimes. To hear Simon say my name with anything other than contempt or anger. To hear it with a kind of soft, private joy that warms my heart each time I hear it. All that time at Watford, I always dreamed of this day. Not my wedding day, specifically (although that daydream did sometimes sneak up on me when I wasn’t paying attention), but the day when Simon said my name and it meant something different. The day that those unremarkable blue eyes looked into mine with affection, not violence. The day that his hands unclenched from their fists and reached out to hold mine. And to see him, now, here, knowing that later that same mouth that used to yell and scream at me would be saying “I do” and kissing me? I remember when all of this was just a dream from the other side of the room. But now we’re here.

I smile back at him.

“Hello, love.”

SIMON

He looks good. He always looks good, the tosser. His hair flows freely down to his shoulders and his deep-water grey eyes are shining as his lips quirk up to smile at me. That smile’s going to be gone pretty soon. I brace myself.

“Baz, we’ve got a problem.”

As I explain the situation to him, I watch his face fall and it breaks my heart. But his eyes remain steeled with a fierce determination. I’ve seen that expression before. He’ll stop at nothing to save this.

“So Shep and I are going to go into the chapel-.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“No, Baz! It’s too dangerous.”

“This is my wedding too, so we’re going to save it together, okay?” He folds his arms and sets his mouth in a firm line. “I’m not changing my mind. It’ll be much quicker with the three of us.” I roll my eyes. “Okay fine. Penny?”

Penny holds out her wand. “Quickly, before I start sneezing again. Okay. You’ve gone... nose blind!”

Baz wrinkles his nose. “Febreze, Bunce?”

“The Normals quote it,” she shrugs, then sneezes again.

“How come you seem to have it worse than everyone else?” I ask.

Penny somehow manages to glare and sneeze at the same time while grounding out one word: “Trixie.”

Ah, that explains it. Penny’s roommate used to spread it all over their room. It must make her less tolerant of it than everyone else. It was never as much as this, though. Penny stops sneezing long enough to fix all three of us with a fierce look.

“Now, you three had better sort this out and have the best wedding day ever, okay?” She says it like a threat, but she means well.

“Thanks, Pen.”

“You’ll look after them, won’t you Shep?”

He grins and gives her a weird kind of salute. They look at each other for a moment, and something passes between them. Then Shepard leans on the car door. I think he’s trying to look casual, but it just looks like he’s forgotten how to stand up properly. Merlin, is that what I look like when I think I look cool? Crowley.

“Shepard,” Penny says.

“Yes?”

“Stop leaning against my car.”

“Sorry.” He straightens up, arms flapping. I can see Baz and Penny both trying desperately not to roll their eyes. “Well, we should go.”

“I’ll be waiting in the hall,” says Penny. “Good luck, and be careful.”

“Don’t worry, Pen. We’ve got this.”

We wave her off, then head towards the doors to the chapel.

“Right,” I say. “Let’s see how much of a disaster we’re dealing with this time.”

Shepard looks up at the chapel, squinting in the sun. “Here we go again.”

Baz takes my hand and squeezes it. He leads me towards the chapel. “Here we go.”

BAZ

Shepard and Wellbelove weren’t exaggerating. It’s everywhere. The smell’s worse in here, and despite it being dampened slightly by Bunce’s Febreze spell, it still makes me want to gag. Plus, there’s the sight of it, which makes my eyes water. Why does everything to do with pixies have to be so sparkly and bright? It looks a lot like tastelessly pink glitter. Shepard emerges from the alcove off the entrance with two brooms and a dustpan and brush. Simon claps his hands together, then winces like he realises how idiotic that looks. I shake my head, rolling my eyes. Honestly, I must have truly lost my marbles to still want to marry him of all people. But here we are. Maybe I’m the idiot.

“Right.” Simon clears his throat. “Shepard, if you take over there,” he gestures towards the alter, “and Baz and I start this end, then we’ll work across. You take the middle and we’ll do the sides.”

“Cool.” Shepard hands one of the brooms to Simon and the dustpan and brush to me. He starts walking down the aisle, whistling like he’s just going out to mow the lawn, not sweep up the remains of a magickally explosive box and its overly sparkly contents.

“Thanks,” I whisper to Simon. I don’t think either of us wants to walk down the aisle until the time comes. He nods in silent understanding, which is his way of saying you’re welcome. I kneel on the ground, rolling up my sleeves and wincing. This is going to ruin my very nice, very expensive suit. But my priority right now is to save our wedding.

I look up at Simon. “Let’s get to work.”

SIMON

We work in comfortable silence, me sweeping and Baz brushing dust into his dustpan and occasionally getting up to empty it into the bin. We’re both filthy, but I guess it doesn’t matter anyway. There’s a lump in my throat as I continue to sweep the dust into a pile. I look at the aisle Baz should be walking up; at the alter we should be standing at; at the doors we should be walking out of hand in hand, as husbands. I suppose I should’ve seen this coming. It just feels like this always happens when I’m around. Like I’m the one causing it, with my streak of bad luck that follows me around like a shadow. I should’ve somehow known that this would happen, I should’ve warned everyone, should’ve-.

“Simon?”

I look down at where I’ve been very aggressively sweeping pixie dust in no particular direction, causing it to fly up and float around everywhere, including all over Baz. Great.

“Sorry,” I mutter to Baz but don’t move.

He stands. “Simon, what’s wrong?”

His voice is soft, like how he used to speak to me when I would spend my days on the sofa, feeling like nothing was worth getting up for. I shake my head, feeling on the verge of tears. But I have to stay strong. This is supposed to be the happiest day of our lives. The thought makes me start stammering.

“I-it’s just. I can’t. I. It’s that...”

Baz’s face tells me to take my time. He knows that words are still a bit tricky for me.

I take a shaky breath. “This isn’t how this was supposed to go. It’s all ruined.”

I start crying proper then. “And I can’t help feeling like this is all my fault, like it is every bloody time.”

He walks slowly over to me and places both his hands lightly on my shoulders.

“Simon, did you plant an invisible box in the truck that’s been magickally rigged to explode?”

“Well, no, but-.”

“Did you then fill the said box with sickly-sweet scented pixie dust that causes a bout of sneezing fits for any mage that comes near?”

“I guess not.”

“Simon, I know that you think that you somehow caused this, but listen to me when I say that this is not your fault. Growing up, I know you were told that everything was your responsibility but the weight of the world doesn’t rest on your shoulders. You weren’t even there when the box blew up, for Crowley’s sake! This is your wedding day, Simon. When everyone’s supposed to fuss around you and help you because you are special and loved, and I’m not just talking about me.”

“But it’s your day too! We were supposed to say “I do,” and cut the cake, and have our first dance. But instead-.”

“Simon,” he says. One of his hands slides from my shoulder down my arm to take my hand. He holds our clasped hands up and steps closer to me so I have no choice but to look into his eyes. We start turning slowly on the spot, Baz humming a made-up tune as we sway in each other’s arms. Our shoes leave quiet footprints in the dust. The light streaming in from the stained-glass window splashes colour onto us as we step in and out of the darkness and the light. As it lights up half of his face, and half of mine, I remember what today is really about.

It’s his coarse, rough, fire-holder’s hand holding mine and me holding his back.

It’s his soft grey eyes looking into mine and me looking back.

And, as we slow to a stop, his lips kissing mine.

And me, with all the love I have for him, with all that I am, kissing him back.

We’ve been through it all, but we came out the other side together. We can still have perfect moments with each other, even when everything’s gone to shit. This is the beginning of a lifetime of perfect moments.

“Thank you,” I whisper, laying my head on his shoulder.

“Anytime, Simon,” he murmurs into my hair. “Anytime.”

BAZ

For a moment, there’s peace. There’s just me and Simon, and the only sound is our breathing as we hold each other and stay so, so still. Then there’s a clattering and banging from the other end of the chapel and a call of “I’m OK!” from Shepard. I step back, smiling fondly down at Simon.

“We’d better get back to work,” I say.

“Yeah,” he replies, meeting my smile with a stunning one of his own.

I kneel back down and start sweeping more dust into the dustpan. I’m glad when I look up and see Simon sweeping the dust into (much calmer, much more orderly) piles. We’re moving a lot more efficiently now; we can start doing the rest of the chapel soon.

When I next stand up to empty the dustpan, I gasp and yell “Look out!”

Simon turns sharply, startled.

Right into the lit candle behind him. It topples over and the holder cracks in two. The candle rolls across the floor, igniting the dust that still coats the edges of the room. That’s when I learn that there’s one thing that vampires and pixie dust have in common: they’re both extremely flammable.

The flame snakes its way up the walls and curls around the wooden beams in the ceiling. Ash begins to rain down and I cough as the smoke enters my lungs. I can hear a creaking above me and look up just in time to see a beam collapse and begin to hurtle its way down towards where I’m standing. I brace myself for the impact. Great, I think. I’m going to die on my wedding day. I suppose that means my corpse will be well-dressed, at least.

An arm comes around me and I’m tackled to the ground just before the flaming beam hits me. My head smacks into stone as I’m shoved against a wall. A trail of warm, sticky blood trickles from my temple down the side of my face. I don’t dare to open my eyes as I hear the destruction around me roar in my ears, the smell of burning intensifying with the heat. It’s only when I hear eerie silence, like someone’s put a blanket over me, that I open my eyes. I’m met with the sight of Simon’s face scrunched up and inches from mine and his wings spread out behind him, their edges burnt from shielding us from the flame and rubble that rained down upon us.

SIMON

“Simon, love. Open your eyes.”

Baz’s voice is soothing as I slowly blink myself back to here and now. Baz is sitting in front of me. One side of his face covered in blood. He’s sitting in my shadow, which I can see is winged. I try to move my wings but wince in pain. Burnt. I don’t remember the spell wearing off, or saving Baz. I just remember needing to move and then opening my eyes down here. I look behind me at the remains of the chapel. There are bits of rubble and shattered glass everywhere, just like there was in the White Chapel. I did it again.

I start crying, then sobbing, then howling. This is what always happens. This is how this always ends. Magic or not, I always manage to make everything explode around me and take out anyone in my path, including Baz. He’s going to want to leave, I know it. Because I’m a fuckup, as I’ve shown again and again. Because I can’t leave who I was behind. Because-.

This time, it’s Baz’s arm that comes around me to save me. To save me from myself, as he always does.

“I’m here,” is all he says.

I cry even harder into his shoulder.

BAZ

Once we’ve extracted ourselves from the wreckage and established that Shepard’s okay (he is – he heard us from the other end of the chapel and escaped through the other door), Simon and I stand side by side, looking at the burnt remains of the chapel. It’s still smoking slightly, but luckily some of our guests have managed to use It’s raining cats and dogs to put out the rest of the fire and Clear the air to get rid of most of the smoke. It’ll take a little while to repair the damage to the chapel, but it’s nothing that can’t be handled with the combined magic of everyone here.

While everyone sets to work to try to save this wreck of a day, I try to console Simon. He grew up thinking that he was nothing, then the Mage told him that he was everything. He still is everything, to me. It just makes him feel like anything that happens is his fault, like he still has the power to fight whatever gets thrown his way. Over the past few months, he was slowly coming around to the idea that he isn’t responsible for every disaster that he comes across. He was finally starting to realise that his mistakes don’t make him a disaster – they make him human. I put my arm around his shoulder and he leans his head on mine. He stopped crying a few minutes ago but still hasn’t said anything. He breathes quietly next to me and a gentle breeze comes to ruffle his hair.

“What are we gonna do now?”

His voice is tentative, like he’s afraid of the answer. I survey the wreckage again, with the groups of our friends and family gathered around it holding wands, rings and staffs aloft. The air is heavy with magic, and with shouting; the Bunces are running a tight ship. They’re working quickly, but I’m not sure if it’ll be enough. We’ll probably be done by tomorrow, but the chapel and hall are only ours for today.

There’s no way I’m postponing. I know that no matter what, I want to be married by the end of today. Crowley knows we’ve had to wait long enough.

I take Simon’s hand and squeeze it.

“I have an idea.”

SIMON

I have no idea where we’re going. I’ve already asked Baz at least 10 times, and every time he’s just raised an eyebrow and said: “You’ll see.”

He’s lucky I love him because it’s gotten more infuriating each time.

All I know is that he and his aunt went off somewhere and when they came back they were both grinning like maniacs. Then his aunt tossed him her car keys, told him not to wreck the car and we both got in and started driving. We’re going along the main road now, Baz’s eyes bright as we drive along. We’re both filthy: our clothes are ripped and bloodstained, and there are holes in the back of my suit from my wings and tail (which have been spelled away again). There’s still a trail of blood down the side of Baz’s face. I reach out to touch it and his hand gently takes mine and moves it away. He doesn’t let go, though. We stay like that until he has to change gears and he slows down to a stop in front of a gate.

And that’s when I realise where we’re getting married.

In the place where we met as enemies.

In the place where we fell in love.

In the place where I asked Baz to marry me.

Watford.

BAZ

Simon’s smile is one that I’ll never forget. As he gazes up at the gates to Watford, his lips turn up and his eyes shine. The late afternoon sun makes his hair seem to glow, as well as the constellations of freckles on his face, which has blown open into wild, unmistakable joy. He closes his eyes and tilts his head back, then turns it towards mine. His cheek catches against the seat, squishing half of his face and rearranging the freckles. It’s adorable.

I mentally capture this moment of him and me, sharing this space alone before we’re going to be surrounded by people again. I capture his smile and his eyes and the feeling of his fingers intertwined with mine as he catches my hand again and the way it feels when the rings on them clink together. Unfamiliar, yet so right at the same time. As if they were always meant to be there. I capture the filth in his fair, and the dots of blood that pepper his cheeks. All of my imperfectly perfect Simon Snow.

I capture his voice as he leans in to whisper to me.

“Come on Baz.” Then he kisses me fleetingly, just once. But Crowley, if it isn’t one of the best of my life. He tugs at my hand.

“Let’s get married.”

SIMON

We walk up to the White Chapel hand in hand. Baz explains that everyone else will be on their way. Apparently, his aunt has a few people who owe her favours who can clean up the chapel. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d just called some people and scared them into helping by threatening to turn them into nine-toed trolls. But the thought’s nice.

As we walk, we talk about our memories of this place: the yew tree where he sent me to wait for Agatha all night, the football pitch where I used to watch him play, the spot where he tried to steal my voice. All of these memories, painful or not, seem so far away now. We were children then, and now we’ve grown up. We’ve changed and grown and laughed and cried alongside each other.

Whether we were fighting or learning or figuring ourselves out, it was always with each other. And now we stand with each other at the door to the White Chapel where everything changed for us. We fall silent when we reach the doors. I squeeze Baz’s hand and he squeezes back.

“I love you,” I say quietly.

“I love you too, Snow.”

Then we don’t say anything else as we sit with our backs against the wall and wait for the world to catch up with us.

BAZ

I stand outside the chapel doors with Father, waiting for everyone else to settle down inside. Wellbelove’s fussing over my siblings a few metres behind us. I can hear Mordelia kicking up a tantrum over having to wear pink. As quiet overtakes the other side of the door, Father turns to me.

“Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

And I mean it. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life. Father goes to open the doors.

It was difficult, in the beginning. I knew that he always suspected that I was queer, but we’d never had a frank conversation about it. It was one of the topics that we simply had an unspoken rule to never discuss. It was that, my mother’s death and my vampirism. After returning from America, I realised that if I wanted to fix things with Simon, I needed to find peace with myself first. That involved going to therapy (I agreed that I’d go if Simon did) and telling my family, plain and simple, that I was gay. And that I was dating Simon Snow. At first, Father didn’t say much about it. He spent long hours in the library, looking over family photos and staring out of the window. Eventually, he showed me a photo of my mother.

“This is the last picture that was taken of her before she died,” he said, holding it up. Then he started talking about how much he missed her and still does, how he wished that he had been with her when it happened. How hard it was to look at me sometimes because of how much I looked like her. Then I told him about how Simon had caught me in her office looking at a picture of myself that she’d kept with her. How that had been the start of something. I told him about that Christmas and America and all that Lamb had told me about my kind. I told him how it made me unsure about many things but the only thing I was still sure about was how I felt about Simon. Little by little, day by day, Father began to come around to the idea of Simon and I being together. Sure, it took a lot of work. There were good days and bad days. But now here he is, about to walk me down the aisle towards a boy, not a girl as he probably envisioned for me one day. But there’s genuine love in his eyes as he says: “I’m proud of you, Basilton. And your mother would be too.”

“Thank you.” I’m too choked up to say anything else.

He swings open the doors and leads me down the aisle.

SIMON

It’s work not to turn around when I hear Baz approaching. I smile, knowing that I only have to be without him for a few moments more. (Also I can’t turn around for fear of knocking someone over with my wings). Baz steps up beside me glances sideways, grinning.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” I smile back.

We turn to face Penny’s mum, who agreed to officiate. As the ceremony starts, I look around at us. At our wedding. It’s not exactly how I pictured it: Baz and I are both still pretty filthy and the location is different but it’s almost better. This place holds painful memories, yes, but this chapel is where things changed for both of us. And we’re both still here, despite it all, agreeing to spend the rest of our lives together.

“Do you, Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch, take Simon Snow to be your husband?” Baz takes both of his hands in mine. “I do.”

“And do you, Simon Snow, take Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch to be your husband?”

And I’ve never been surer of anything than when I say: “I do.” Baz slips a ring onto my finger and I put one onto his. It’s strange how the feeling of his cold hands in mine is so familiar, yet what we’re doing is so unfamiliar at the same time. I guess everything we do now is going to be unfamiliar because it’ll be the first time that we do it as a married couple. Or maybe nothing will feel different at all. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out together. We always do.

Penny’s mum spreads her arms wide. “I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may kiss.”

In the moment before Baz and I kiss, something makes me cast a glance towards the back of the chapel. Three women are standing there: Ebb, Baz’s mum and a woman with blonde curly hair that I vaguely recognise as the girl in a photo that Agatha showed me once.

My mother.

Baz follows my gaze and I have no words for the expression on his face when he sees his mum for the first time since her death. Then I blink and they’re gone.

Baz and I kiss, the first of many kisses that we’ll have: that day as we celebrate with our family and friends, as we walk (just the two of us) by the lake after the party, tomorrow when we wake up next to each other at the beginning of our life together. And each and every day after that.

When we break apart to face our congregation, I think I see the ends of a pair of glittering green wings leaving the chapel. And a voice that follows them. A voice that sounds almost exactly like chiming bells...

I silently thank Liliana, granter of wishes, for letting those who care about us see us one more time.

Then I take Baz’s arm and we leave the chapel, smiling and waving at everyone. Penny tackles us in a tear-soaked hug, then Agatha joins, and Shep. I hear Baz’s aunt whoop and see his dad give us both a smile. It’s the start of a spectacular celebration.

A few hours later, I take Baz into my arms and flap my wings.

“Are you ready?” I ask.

My husband responds by kissing me.

And away we fly.

[rockshortage]

SKILLS - Fallout OC Ask Prompt

Here it is, everything in one place. The questions I haven’t answered already in a different post are in bold so you can easily skip to those if you want.

now all in bold because it’s been a while since I posted this

Barter

1. How important is making money or acquiring wealth to your character? Do they even need it? 

Hector generally makes do with what he has, but he sure as hell enjoys the monetary benefits to being Overboss. Finally he can indulge a bit, get a semblance of pre-war comforts back and invest the surplus to get the rest of Nuka World to that stage too. And also buy a bunch of shit he doesn’t need because he thinks it’s cool. And since part of the Overboss’ job is to flex on everyone once in a while, he allows himself to be a bit excessive sometimes.

2. Is your character quick to take care of others in need, or do they look out for themselves first and foremost?

If they’re a good friend, they almost always come first. With strangers/acquaintances, it depends a lot on the situation and on what people expect of him. He has trouble saying no, so if someone asks him for help, he’s not likely to leave them hanging. If not specifically asked, he’Il try to just kinda slip away undetected (which often works well because he doesn’t have much of a presence). Nothing is his business unless people make it so. He will feel bad about his inaction in various situations though.

3. What is something other than money that could make your character do something they otherwise wouldn’t want to do? What about something they otherwise really, really, really wouldn’t want to do?

He does a lot of things he doesn’t want to due to peer pressure or expectations people have of the Overboss.

For the latter, if his own safety or the safety of someone or something he really cares about is seriously threatened. Blackmail, basically. Or if it’s something that someone he cares about would really appreciate. Like this is their lifelong dream and Hector can make it reality if he just does this thing that he absolutely does not want to do. He’d do that.

Energy Weapons

4. Does your character prefer high-tech or low-tech solutions to problems?

High-tech if there is time for it, as that usually takes longer than the equivalent of hitting the problem with a rock. He’s a techy guy, solving problems using his field of expertise is fun and rewarding, so that’s what he’ll usually try to do. But sometimes he can’t argue with the simplest solution often being the best.

5. What does your character think about pre-war society? 

Hard to say since I haven’t really worked out what the heck he was doing pre-war and how much he remembers of it. But he’s always been rather isolated, whether that be of his own choice or a result of his conditions. Which means he doesn’t care all that much about society and whatever it’s up to again. He’s just trying to vibe in his own little space. I can’t imagine him being happy that they started a war though. He doesn’t regret the loss of society as much as he regrets the loss of the comforts and luxuries it brought him. Existential dread about the world ending bad but not worrying about more immediate threats to his life in the form of wasteland inhabitants good.

6. Is your character easily exhaustible? Are they normally an energetic person or more lethargic? If the former, what would reduce them to the latter; if the latter, what would excite them into the former?

It’s not that he’s easily exhaustible, he’s got rather good endurance and drive. It’s just that he is exhausted most of the time, due to his sleep issues. So his default state is generally on the lethargic side, but he has bursts of energy. Be that finding the fun in clearing the parks and destroying shit, or less noticeably when he’s engrossed in a project.

Explosives

7. How does your character express anger? Do they have a short temper, do they bury their rage until they burst, or can they handle it well?

He usually buries it, at least for the moment. Put on a pokerface and then release his anger later with the help of loud music or going out into the wastes and destroying some shit. There are exceptions, where he loses his shit on the spot, the main one being someone ‘hurting’ MAAK.

8. Does your character have any particular pet peeves that irritate them?

Way too fucking many to list – once he notices that is. The only reason he doesn’t spend every second of being around other people angry is that he’s often kind of oblivious or anxious, which makes him self-centered and not notice the little things people are doing around him.

I think I named a few examples in another ask meme, such as excessive public displays of affection and loud/open mouthed chewing. Here’s another one: when someone uses a lot abbreviations and acronyms and assumes everyone will just know what they mean. It’s often a cultural thing and therefore most if not all people around him will know, but Hector can’t ask ‘what does this mean’ 7 times in one conversation because then he’ll look stupid but he literally cannot follow this conversation anymore which will also make him look stupid if someone catches onto it and this could have all been avoided if they said actual words instead of nonsensical amalgamations of letters and ARGH.

9. Is there anything that anyone who knows better should avoid bringing up to your character (i.e., any conversational landmines)?

I was gonna say criticism about MAAK, but if I’m getting this right, ‘anyone who knows better’ means they have some form of positive relationship with Hector. So I’m not sure this applies all that well. They’d still have to be careful around the subject because he takes this kind of thing personally very quickly, but if they are an acquaintance or friend, he will be a bit more lenient instead of like… trying to fistfight them on the spot. Maybe he’ll let a comment slide or calmly remind them to Not Speak Their Mind about this. Seriously. Back Off From This Topic And We Won’t Have A Problem.

Can’t think of any better examples right now, file it under pending character development :V

Guns

10. What is your character’s weapon of choice? Are they good in a fight, whether armed or not?

He prefers to be far away from his target and pick them off before a fight can really break out, so his go to is a sniper rifle. Though he hasn’t (or rather I haven’t) found ‘the one’ yet. It’s a dilemma between ballistics, which are more fun to shoot, and energy weapons, which have little to no recoil and are therefore much easier to handle (and because technology cool). It’s probably going to be a heavily modified laser/plasma/gauss rifle of some kind.

He’s not very good when it gets to close range. He has to end the fight as quickly as he can, put some distance between himself and his opponent, or just try to outlast them by dodging/absorbing hits until they tire themselves out.

11. Has your character ever killed anyone purely in cold blood?

I might just be dumb but I’m having genuine trouble deciding what counts as cold blood and what doesn’t. Since Hector frequents raider circles where murder is almost normalized, I feel like the definition of it gets much more narrowed down, which means there’s a chance he’s never actually killed someone by strict definition of ‘cold blood’ (without emotion or mercy). From a non-raider, upstanding citizen viewpoint though? All the fucking time.

(Technically obsolete since I rewrote the answer, but I’ll leave this here anyway: Say, he has to lead a raid on a settlement – the people there have done nothing wrong, but they’re on turf that one of the gangs really wants, and Hector hasn’t been able to convince them to just leave. So they have to die, and Hector has to set an example to keep the respect of the gangs. He’ll do it, but it’s shitty and he’ll feel awful, their terrified faces and dying breaths haunt him for a while. From an outside perspective, he killed them in cold blood. But on the inside, Hector isn’t emotionless about it at all, it doesn’t feel good, it wasn’t fun, he’s full of regret and he dreads the next time he has to do this again.)

12. What are your character’s opinions on war? Is it something necessary or barbaric, or both? Do they believe in noble conflict or the existence of “a good war?”

As with many things, he can be swayed in either direction, depending on the circumstances, the people around him, and his own memories. Sometimes he thinks it’s a necessary means to an end, might even go as far as to glorify certain aspects of it – as long as he has the outside perspective. When he’s actually involved himself and everything gets too close for comfort, he’ll see how ugly of an affair it really is and regret that he ever condoned any of it. …until he forgets again.

Lockpick

13. Does your character prefer careful finesse or brute force in most situations? 

Careful finesse, definitely. It really frustrates him to watch people trying to brute force something that would be solved so much easier if they just showed a little care.

14. How greedy is your character? Would they scavenge anything and everything they can carry from someplace “just in case”, or only ever take what they know they need?

By that definition, very greedy. But like, why go out to scavenge ruins and not take everything you see? Are you really gonna leave half the stuff just in case some other scavenger maybe comes across it at some point later? Nah, you take that shit and then have Gage pressure you into selling the surplus later even though you wanna keep it, there’s still a little bit of room in the storage, come on, Porter don’t be like this

15. What is your character’s most prized possession, and where do they keep it?

Does MAAK count? Because MAAK definitely is his pride and joy. He keeps MAAK with him as much as he can. And most likely his preferred weapon, once I figure out what it is exactly.

Medicine

16. How does your character tolerate pain? How do they handle stress and trauma?

He tolerates pain very well in the moment it happens initially. It’s not always out of survival instinct and such like I’ve specified previously, sometimes it’s just sheer embarrassment / anxiety. When he gets hurt while people see, his immediate instinct is “it’s fine, i’m fine, nothing to see here” and then he’ll go hide somewhere and decide for real if it’s actually fine or not.

He handles the aftermath of injuries a lot less well. You know the cliché of men being much more sensitive to pain/sickness than women and just being very noticeable in their misery? That’s Hector once he’s back in the safety of his home and recovering from his injuries. (usually MAAK is on the receiving end of his suffering but unfortunately for Gage it’s more satisfying to lament at someone who can actually react)

17. Does your character have any habits? Any tics, fixations, rituals, superstitions, or dependencies?

Totally. Hector is very much a creature of habit and it takes real effort to get him out of his comfort zone. He’d absolutely have a tic or two but I can’t come up with anything specific that isn’t just randomly made up. I’m thinking something along the lines of fixing his clothing a lot, like pulling at his gloves checking his collar, etc. But it’s nothing solid, so I’ll leave that aside for now.

A daily (if possible) ritual is writing in his journal. It helps him retain information and gives him some peace of mind that even if he forgets, he’ll be able to look it up again.

No superstitions (or none that I can think of). He loves to challenge superstitions actually, because it’s all complete and utter bullshit to him. This is actually one of the rare cases he does not care to think of people’s feelings first and can be a total dick on purpose. Oh you’re scared bad things will happen if I do this? Haha fuck you, not only will I open this umbrella inside, I will also smash a mirror with it and specifically point out to you that I am not knocking on wood.

18. What’s something that always makes your character feel better (physically, emotionally, mentally)?

A nice warm shower and sleeping in a clean bed afterwards. Being outside at night when it’s a little chilly and dark enough so he can take off his mask or other clothing items. Bonus points when there’s a campfire, so the lighting is nice and it’s just a little bit spooky, and he’s able to feel warmth on his skin without being burned. Being around MAAK, baby talking to him, cleaning his chassis, feeding him some trash. Listening  and singing along to his favorite music.

Melee Weapons

19. What does it take to motivate your character to violence? Do they try to avoid violence as much as possible, are they willing and able to instigate violence, or are they even outright bloodthirsty?

Necessity is his main motivator. He tries to avoid violence as much as he can (in most scenarios), but he also won’t always bend over backwards to find a peaceful solution to everything. Instigating it is kinda difficult for him though, it’s so much easier if the other one attacks first and he can react in self defense.

20. How resourceful is your character? How adept are they at improvising with things around them or repurposing random junk into valuables, weapons, or tools? 

Now this is something he excels at, mostly when there’s tech involved. Don’t just destroy turrets and robots, change their targeting parameters so they fight for him instead. Rig one up to explode and let it run into crowds of enemies. Have a speaker emit a frequency that either attracts or repels wildlife and ferals. Use that highly dangerous power line to electrocute a gatorclaw. Set up a whole grid that’ll fry the ferals or bloodworms. So many options.

21. Does your character have any comfort objects that they prefer to keep on their person as much as possible, or frequently hold in their hand just to hold it?

MAAK unfortunately does not fit in his pocket, so keeping him around at all times is more complicated. Maybe I’ll figure out some small comfort object at some point because I like the idea, but for now it’s just good old impractical emotional support robot MAAK.

Repair

22. What is your character’s single most handy trait or skill?

Engineering/robotics.

23. How concerned is your character with practicality? Are they more down-to-earth, grounded, or focused on necessity, or are they more of a dreamer, indulgent, or reckless?

More of the latter. Simple and practical things are good and all, and he’s often satisfied enough with them. But what really sparks joy is going above and beyond and just kinda off the wall sometimes. He has the resources now instead of having to just scrape by on the bare necessities, so why wouldn’t he take that opportunity??

24. How quick is your character to forgive? Are they able to earn forgiveness from others easily?

In theory, he’s the type to hold grudges. In practice, he has bad memory and sometimes forgets who wronged him or why.

Earning forgiveness doesn’t come super easy because he’s bad at communication. He shoves problems and issues aside because confronting them is uncomfortable. Even if he feels bad about X thing he did to Y person and he could just apologize.

Science

25. What kind(s) of intelligence would you say that your character does and does not have?

Thanks to a different meme I learned of the nine types of intelligence, so I’ll use those here:

High: Logical-mathematical, linguistic, spatial

Medium: musical, bodily-kinesthetic, naturalistic

Low: intrapersonal, interpersonal, existential

26. What kinds of things fascinate your character? Do they have any personal interests that aren’t necessarily practical, but that they just like?

A whole lot of things he’s interested in aren’t exactly practical. Those things are generally in the realm of book smarts, which can be useful, but often don’t have direct applications to his job or survival in general. e.g. knowing how nuclear fusion works on an atomic level is great and all but that deathclaw does not care and only wants to eat you

27. Does your character appreciate a good puzzle, or any other kind of intellectual or strategic challenge (e.g. Sudoku, chess)?

Yeah! Mostly the things he can do on his own though or things that are at least cooperative. There’s a considerable inhibition level when it comes to competitive strategy games like chess, but if ‘forced’ into a round he’d probably end up enjoying it.

Sneak

28. How does your character handle being alone in a wide-open space, being one of many in a large crowd, and being stuck with someone else one-on-one? 

Alone in wide-open spaces: hell yeah

Large crowds: hell no please get him out of there asap

One-on-one: this is ok, he can deal with this. If it’s the right person he’ll even enjoy himself.

29. How does your character behave when nobody else is around? How does this differ from how they act around strangers, friends, or lovers?

When no one is around and no one can hear him, he tends to be the most energetic, coming out of his shell. He’ll turn up the music, sing along loudly, dance around, do theatrics. Have in depth discussions about this or that with MAAK, an inanimate object, or himself. Or on the flip side just vibing quietly and comfortably.

Some of that carries over once high enough friendship levels are gained. Strangers on the other hand are not allowed to see that side of him, no, he’s just a quiet and uninteresting guy, nothing to see here.

Lovers? What’s that

30. Suppose your character just wants to disappear; where would they want to disappear to?

Far Harbor looks tempting.

Speech

31. What does your OC sound like? What is the tone of their voice, their cadence, and their vocabulary; are they particularly profane or eloquent? Are they funny, and if so, what’s their sense of humor? Are they long-winded or do they speak little, and if it’s the latter, is that only because they’re concise or is it because they have genuine trouble speaking?

His voice is on the deep side but not remarkably so. He generally speaks in a soft manner, but he can get surprisingly loud for a man of his stature. Vocabulary is all over the place. He has a tendency to be formal and use big words, but then the next moment he’s trying to describe the thingy and the stuff with the some such and whatever, like fuck man, speaking hard.

He has a case of the dad humor. Some people will find that funny, some will not find it funny but a bit endearing, and others will find it not funny and incredibly aggravating. His jokes are generally innocent enough, but he can get dark too. Usually rather dry.

How little or how much he speaks depends entirely on the situation and the topic. He rattles on endlessly about Science and has an unfortunate tendency to mansplain. But when he’s not super passionate about something, it’s just whatever. If he doesn’t feel like he has anything of value to add, he just keeps quiet.

32. Is your character a good liar, or can they manipulate people well? Are they able to conceal what they mean or what they’re feeling, or are they an open book whether they mean to be or not? 

He’s quite good at withholding information, but not at straight up lying to someone’s face. His entire attire helps a lot with concealing his feelings or intent. Having no visible facial expressions and a robotic modulated voice allow him to come across as cold and distant, downright emotionless to people who don’t know him or don’t know him well (with a bit of practice). That said, he wouldn’t even know where to start at attempting to manipulate someone.

Hector can be hard to figure out, but once you invest some time and effort into doing that (like Gage was forced to), he’s pretty much an open book in most situations.

33. What is something that could be said to your character that would be unforgivable, either by someone in general or by someone specific? How would they respond?

This is hard. Hector gets insulted / hurt fairly easily and tends to hold onto that negativity longer than he should, but all that mostly stems from his low self-esteem. And it’s rarely stuff that cuts so deep that a continued relationship / association is unthinkable. If Gage was to make it clear to Hector that making him Overboss was actually a horrible mistake and he almost wishes he had Colter back? Oof, ouch, that hurts a lot, but like… he’s not wrong. Gage knows what he’s talking about and Hector never was the perfect man for the job, nor did he want it. Yeah he was trying really hard and maybe he thought he was making good progress, but if Gage says it’s not enough, then it’s not enough.

Before I go too far off track – I’m not sure there’s really one thing someone can say that would be unforgivable. If there is, it would definitely have to be someone Hector trusts / trusted. But actions speak much louder than words. Gage saying he wishes for a different boss is one thing. It hurts but it’s a fair sentiment and doesn’t change the fact that they still have to work together. But Gage actively replacing him, spitting on all their hard work and throwing whatever relationship they had into the trash in the process? There’s no going back to normal after that.

Survival

34. How well does your character take care of themselves in the wilderness? Do they feel most at home in the wilderness, small settlements, or densely inhabited areas? Are there any particular reasons why that is?

As much as Hector likes keeping to himself, he’s not the type of survivor to go out into the deepest wilderness. He could survive out there, but his quality of life would probably be pretty bad. His ideal place would be near a small settlement, within comfortable enough walking distance but not really part of it. He can go into town maybe once a week for supplies and just be alone in his humble abode the rest of the time.

35. What kind of diet does your character keep? Is it more indiscriminate, or picky or particular? Are they good cooks, whether in a kitchen or by a fire? Do they think of food as simple sustenance, or do they appreciate indulgent dishes and finer flavors? Do they have a favorite food?

He's not a picky eater by any means. He will eat what’s on the table and not complain, unless it’s like actually rotting. His cooking is fine, of course until he gets creative with it and makes questionable combinations happen. But what I didn’t mention there is that he only rarely gets the chance to do some train wreck cooking. Usually he does have to treat food as just fuel that lets him go about his day due to the impracticality of having to wear a mask and not being able to take it off during the daytime. And it’s rather difficult to find an interior that reliably lets no sunlight in among all the ruins of the wasteland. When he’s on the road, he quite often just has to go find a reasonably dark corner in which to crouch down and cram in a nutrient bar like some kind of feral man who hasn’t eaten in a week.

36. What keeps your character going? What is the one thing that they have that could motivate them to keep persisting if they lost literally everything else?

There is not one sole thing. Hector has to find drive and motivation in anything at all, because what other choice does he have? There’s no real sense of purpose or meaning to life for someone like him, and he prefers not to think about it too much (or rather not at all). Currently, it’s the friendships he’s made. His responsibilities as Overboss. Whatever little project is on his mind right now. And when all is lost, he has to bide his time, wait until he forgets whatever or whoever he’s grieving. Then it’s back to the same old.

Unarmed

37. How good is your character with their hands or fingers? Do they have a light, gentle touch, or are they hard or uncoordinated? Does your character have any dexterous talents?

Light and gentle, his manual dexterity is above average but nothing outlandish. Just someone who works with his hands a lot and developed his skill accordingly.

38. Is your character physically expressive or do they make a lot of gestures (i.e. do they “talk with their hands”), and if so, what kinds of gestures do they make?

He’s fairly expressive with his hands – less when he’s in an uncomfortable social situation and more when he’s going off about science. It’s a way for him to compensate for the lack of facial expressions. Can’t go that deep yet to name specific actions.

39. Does your character like to be touched or touch others? How does your character value personal space? What kinds of boundaries, physical and otherwise, are important to your character?

In general, no, no touching, keep away, personal space radius is higher than most people’s. Also don’t like, ask him about his day or feelings too much. He’s open about his feelings on his own volition but shrivels up in ‘I don’t know how to communicate’ when specifically prompted. I can imagine there’s a situation of him being severely touch starved going on here, but I’m unsure how much it would take to get him to accept / feel comfortable with physical touch, let alone crave it. In the meantime, he can go hug an animal. Mason always knows when Hector’s particularly sad/emotional because that’s when he comes to the zoo to hug a furry creature. Yes MAAK is his emotional support robot and absolutely his number 1 go-to for that, but sometimes the cold metal of a robot just doesn’t cut it. Sometimes he needs something that’s equally pure of heart but warm and alive

[pokecommunitycenter]

Hi Dash !! It’s Time to Meet a Member of the RPC !!

Ditto would like to introduce... Dun Duuuuuun !! 

It’s Jason ♡ !! Though some of you may know them as @haematophiliac​ !!

Established in Spooky October of 2018, they’ve been around the RPC for a good long while as a Team Rocket Scientist OC, but here’s a looksee at some things you may have not known !! Ditto hopes you enjoy getting to know the writer just as much as Ditto did !!

♡ Interview... START !!

Ditto would like you to introduce yourself a little bit. The url you go by, maybe how you picked it. Was it a joke at first that you just stuck with, does it have significant meaning?

The username is what people would call a lover of blood. I started Jax in … 2018? Octoberish and he had the common username including Rocket in it and I decided to pick a theme more fitting to him. Eventually I settled with the current one as it fits him as a blood obsessor to put it bluntly. I mean he likes blood, works around a lot of it and all that so it just… Well, stuck!

Was there something about Team Rocket in general that drew you in? Over other ‘evil’ organizations, Rocket is considered the OG & probably largest. But, over Plasma/Galactic, what made you choose Rocket?

I’ve always been a Rocket fan. I started in the Pokemon fandom (can you call it a fandom back then) in 1998 when I was only eight by watching the anime. You could say that Rocket started my love for bad guys actually! I used to adore Jessie and James so much. They were just so fun, funny and adorable. Maybe I had a crush on one… Ahem! But yes, as a kid I fell for the trio (I didn’t forget loveable Meowth there!) and ever since then I’ve been a fan. I love all the bad guys mind you but Rocket holds a special place in my heart. Just always been like that.

A bonus question !! Did any characters from the original Anime / Franchise…  help you develop Jax at all?

A good question but Jax actually was inspired by a character I role played in a completely different fandom. I mean you cannot compare them - Jax is a human with so many faults and the other character is… Well, a plain old monster. But when I first made Jax I put little bits of the old character into him, such as formal speaking and love for blood. He started pretty much as a clean slate. I evolved him over the first few weeks.

Do you think that, because you play a character that is not a ‘good guy’ or as you put it, a monster, that people that may not know you well find you hard to approach?

Indeed so. Though I only speak of experience in the past here! When I played my full out monster in another fandom, people would tell others they were actually scared of me on an OOC level. Needless to say I’ve spoken to many people who were scared and helped them realise that it is just a muse I play. When it comes to Tumblr I find the fandom much more open and less afraid? Though I don’t know for certain because people could be afraid for all I know and I just don’t know. I hope I’m approachable enough anyway!

So then !! To help the part community that may not know you well, or might be a little hesitant because you play a blood loving bad guy, what are some things that you may have in common with everyone? Do you have a favorite pokemon? Or a region that just was WACK & you loved it so much? What’s on that most repeated playlist you got? Or maybe a few movies that you really love?

I read every blog’s rules and I’ve noticed that a lot of people are socially anxious. Which to be fair… I am too! I get nervous around people I don’t know and aahhhh, well, I’m in the exact same boat. We all start as strangers and all it takes is one foot forward to break that ice but, like others, I do find that first step very intimidating. I’m just your average nerd to be fair haha. As for my favourite Pokemon? Sneasel! I fell in love with that little critter after watching the Celebi movie when it came out. Favourite region would be Hoenn. I just have fond memories of it I guess as a Ruby fan. It was the first game my battery ran out of energy on. My music is too horrific for anybody’s ears if that’s what you mean hah. And movies? … … Digimon the movie (1+2+3 in Japan and just the first (all three combined) in UK and presumably other places too).

As someone who feels that weird wiggle when trying to step out of your comfort zone to make friends. Do you have any advice for people that want to get to know you better? Or, reaching out to people in general?

When reaching out to me - or anybody else - I find the best approach can be a simple hello. It instantly shatters that ice between two people. Like… Many of us are afraid to simply say hello. But if you manage to break that first bit it’s amazing! If you don’t there is always another day. Conversation can escalate from a mere hello. Or even reply to an open post if serious or funny! That first step is the hardest indeed but things get easier after that first hurdle. The worst someone can do is walk away and then perhaps it just wasn’t meant to be. Everybody has friends in the end and making more is great.

That said. We all know how the Poke RPC has its ups, & its downs. Sometimes both happen in one day. LOL. There is always room for growth though, & Ditto believes that everyone can work together to make that happen. Is there anything you would like to see change in the community?

Everything in life will come with ups and downs, it’s just how things go. We can all work through things however. If something bad happens there’s always a light at the end of the tunnel. As a community it is great we can all work on whatever needs addressing. I understand some people rather turn a blind eye depending upon the situation. We all should work on what makes us comfortable. Nonetheless, if I could change one thing I’d change anon hate. Argh. That’s one thing that gets under my skin. We, as a community, should be open to criticism and praise alike and nobody should need to harass another person anonymously. If someone has a disagreement then they should tell the person. Only that way can they work on the issue. But then again there is needless anon hate without true purpose behind it and that makes me sad. But nobody is perfect and sometimes people will rear their ugly side. Yet when anon hate has popped up it has been utterly overwhelming to see everybody support each other with kindness!

Ditto wonders, do you think anon hate may… slow down, or go away, if it was ignored instead of responded to when received? Most times, the people that feel the need to do hurtful things to others is for response. The attention received whether it is good or bad.

I think it’s highly dependent upon the situation. As someone who has received hate in the past (not on Tumblr mind you) I found that even ignoring people doesn’t work. Yet every case is different. Some do it for response, some do it to just get under someone’s skin. We can’t tell which however. If, say, it is needless hate then to ignore it would be the best option, even reporting it to Tumblr’s staff. But if in the situation something needs defending like a misconception then it could be a good idea to clear the air. Keyword could though. I’ve learned that people will get ideas into their mind and battle for it rather than accepting what is truth. In those cases a good air clearing is good and then to ignore any further.... Jabbing could be best. But if people feel the need to respond they should have the freedom to, as well as the freedom to ignore it.

Is there anything you’d like to pass on to those in the RPC that receive anon hate? Maybe a word of advice, or just something supportive to remember if it ever happens?

Well, as long as someone isn’t breaking any rules, doing something bad OOC or whatever- Actually I was going to say they should keep going and doing their thing. And yet I feel the need to mention that all people make mistakes in their lives. Anon hate is a bad way to go. The person on the receiving end of a message is a person too. They have feelings and thoughts and a life also. If you ever receive anon hate then just remember that there’s someone sending it and perhaps they don’t realize their mistake. That isn’t to say it’s justified. Just that people do indeed forget there are real people involved. … I think I word things bad! I mean… Anon hate is wrong, end of. But it is so easy to forget that real people are sat to read it. If you ever get anon hate then it is best to ignore it. That spark could evolve into a full blown fire and make you worse off. Hm, I forgot my train of thought but in the end we all need less hate and to just enjoy ourselves. People tend to send hate from bad experiences with the person or disagreements if right or wrong on either side but words are just words on a screen. They can say all they want to you but you are you. You are a person who deserves a life and love and no mere text on a monitor - Or phone screen! - can ever truly harm you.

Ditto thinks you did a fine job. We all take time to find words in our own ways, & no one has the perfect ones all the time. So please do not worry about wording things. It takes some practice sometimes, when you’re put on the spot !! 

Ditto would like to wrap up with something uplifting & super positive. After your time here in the Poke RPC, what are some of your favorite memories? Things that make you stick around, or just enjoy seeing go on? Give Ditto a little insight ( & the RPC too ) on what makes you happy to be here.

I have a vast array of good memories. Mainly ones of that first move of saying hello to someone or just that first interaction. Then again you’re asking someone with a bad memory! I truly just enjoy seeing people having a good time, enjoying their time here. When people are comfortable enough to do crack threads, that’s something that makes me smile. For instance the RPC could have been super strict and look down upon anything not considered serious and yet there everybody is just having fun! I enjoy watching people get along all in all. When new relations are formed, plots explored, the crack-like threads that ensue. Dash commentary is always a favourite. It shows someone isn’t afraid to get involved. I like it when people aren’t afraid. As I said, we’re all humans with lives and just watching people have fun makes me smile, even if I’m not involved. And of course, being involved in things makes me happy too, to just be included :D

A big Thank You !! to Jason for allowing Ditto to take some of their time for this interview. 

Ditto hopes everyone has a good Monday !! 

See you next week for the next Community Interview. ♡

[voemae582]

The Truth Changes

Chapter 4: Is Blue Warm or Cold?

Let it be known, I wrote this chapter before I watched reflectdoll and Desperado. And I'm so angry with how Marinette and Adrien acted, but most importantly the writers... Enjoy. Also I post the story on my Fanfiction.net page under Voemae Patterson and on Wattpad under Tia_Patterson!

Meanwhile Chat Noir made his way across town and hid in an alley way to transform back. Plagg flew out of his ring in a panic.

"Plagg calm down, we need think of a plan, maybe she was bluffing and Ladybug is fine."

Plagg shook his head, "Kid this is serious, I can honestly tell you, she was telling the truth. We need to find Master. I have a feeling Tikki's with him, which is good."

"Tikki?" Adrien asked.

"No time to explain, lets go!" Plagg flew in the direction of Master Fu's massage place with Adrien close behind him.

They took back streets and alleys to avoid any Marionettes in the area. It didn't take long before they finally reached their destination and took cover inside where they were greeting by Wayzz. They entered the massage room to find Master Fu and Tikki talking. Adrien saw the polka doted Kwami and put two and two together. It was Ladybugs Kwami. 

"Tikki!" Plagg shouted and he wasted no time flying to her side. "What happened?"

Master Fu put his attention to Adrien who was still confused. Where was Ladybug? Why didn't she have her kwami? "Adrien, come and sit."

"Master Fu, Marinette, she's the girl akumatized. She's my friend."

He nodded. "Yes, well without Ladybug we're in quite the predicament."

Adrien clenched her fists and grit his teeth, "Please entrust me with saving them both."

"Everyone whos fought alongside you has been turned into a puppet." He stroked his little beard and turned his head away from Adrien and whispered, "She must've done that on purpose."

"What?"

"It's nothing." He waved his hand to signal there was nothing to worry about.

Tikki, Plagg and Wayzz sat at the middle of the table. "Oh Master, it's not her fault! We must save her from being a puppet." Tikki chose her words carefully as to not reveal Marinette was Ladybug.

"I understand the situation. Ladybug knew she would be caught, and purposely took out her earrings to prevent Hawkmoth from finding her using the connection between the akumatized." He pondered for a moment and the room fell silent with thinking. "But," He broke the silence. "I can not ignore the fact that she did fall into this situation."

"Master?" Wayzz questioned.

"Don't worry, I chose her for a reason, that being said I have to wonder what she'll do. Or if she can snap out of it."

"I know she will." Adrien stood up. "Because she's Ladybug." They all looked up at him as he radiated the confidence he lacked a moment ago. "I'll focus on snapping Marinette out of it, try and find the item that's been akumatized then free her. But, Chat Noir can't catch the akuma, or fix what's been destroyed. Master Fu, please let me use the Ladybug miraculous."

Fu stood and turned to get more tea, "Absolutely not. It's far too risky."

"But-!"

"But this may be our only sound option right now. As for the cat miraculous, you cant use both at the same time. And I don't feel good having both miraculous near each other while you're fighting. I suppose I could also-" Just then a crack echoed in the room. His age was catching up to him and he cracked his back... As always Wayzz was worried for the master and helped him sit back down with the tea. "We almost lost the Bee miraculous once, we can't afford making these same mistakes." He shook his head, he knew he wouldn't be much help, but he couldn't do it alone. "We need to move location, she might come here."

"Why would she come here?" Adrien asked. The Kwami's looked at Fu to make an excuse.

Fu cleared his throat. "Your friend Marinette, yes, um she, she's been in my shop before, to get a muscle relaxer!" Not his best moment but he was going to roll with it. "You know how kids are these days, stressed about school and such. So I gave her an old Chinese remedy to help her out... Of course she still seems a bit clumsy..."

Adrien chuckled at the last comment. "No, that's just her."

Fu saw his sincere smile as he thought about her. "I see.." He smiled. "Well, lets move location of the box carefully first, then get a plan started."

"I've got an idea." And so it was decided where the box would be moved to...

Half an hour later after mast Fu settled Adrien transformed back into Chat Noir. "Until we figure this out, I'll go and patrol the surrounding area. I need to help those who have not been caught."

"What ever you do, don't go looking for her." He warned him.

"Which one?" He joked before leaving the building.

Master Fu saw as his Chat Noir figure jumped over a building. "The only one."

"Oh master... What should we do?" Tikki hovered next to him looking out the window.

"Where there's a will, there's a way." he sighed. "For all our sakes, we can only wait and see if she has a stronger will then the darkness in her heart."

About twenty minutes past and Chat Noir saved a few hand fills of civilians and hid them from the akuma. He made sure to stay low and out of sight trying not to cause a scene. All the while he was trying to think of a plan. He was alone, without his Lady. He was worried, but he didn't know for who more. Marinette or Ladybug?

It was already night and the stars were bright. a lot of the city lights were off because there were people hiding. For the most part if Porcelain had no need for them, the marionettes had free will to go home or do anything they wanted as long as the didn't rebel they could live a normal life as a porcelain doll. Until she needed them that is, and took control of their body's again. The brightest lights were the Eiffel tower, which is where Chat Noir assumed Marinette was based. The day had been the longest time anyone has ever been under an akuma's affects and trance before. 

No one knew what was supposed to happen next. Where was Ladybug, the hero of Paris? The Parisians began to worry. Every time that day Chat was asked where she was or heard a rumor of her disappearance he quickly retorted it stating she was well and they were just thinking of a plan.

He returned to his mansion per master Fu's request for the night. Adrien wanted eagerly to go and try talking to Marinette but was stopped every time by Plagg. He agonized over the thought of pain and suffering she was feeling, alone. Plus he was scared sooner or later Ladybug would break, not that she would ever lie.

Checking on his father was impossible since the Gorilla stood outside his bedroom room and Natalie probably wouldn't let him into the office. Little did he know his father was better then okay. Because he had finally found a suitable victim to capture all the miraculous.

In his lair Hawkmoth reveled in the army before him. "Your progress is taking much longer then I expected, but you told the truth, Ladybug hasn't shown her face yet. Meaning you did capture her, and Chat Noir's the only one left. He is the only one left, right?"

Far from the Agreste Manor, sitting at the very top of the Eiffel tower looking at the night sky above her was Porcelain. "Yes, I assume he'll be no trouble. And before you ask again, I do not know where to find the guardian of the box." She technically wasn't lying, she didn't know where master Fu could be, its not 100% certain he'll be at his home. She knew how to manipulate her powers so she wouldn't crack.

Suddenly she felt a pain and all her muscles stiffened making her feel weak. "If you're lying to me I will take away your victory!" Hawkmoth threatened her.

"Why- argh!" She struggled to talk with the pressure he forced on her. "-would I-ugh, why would I lie to you!?" He finally released her letting her gasp for air.

"If I find out you were lying to me or are plotting something, not only will I take everything away from you, but I'll get a professional to do it instead." He chuckled. "You might know her. She tends to fib a bit."

If Porcelain wasn't wearing a mask you'd see the anger in her eyes and her teeth ready to break from clenching them to hold her tongue. "Lila." She hissed through her teeth.

"Correct. Instead of getting your revenge on her I'll replace you with her. So don't forget your end of the deal."

Marinette felt a stab in her heart. Even Hawkmoth preferred Lila. Why was she not good enough? "Why would you trust a liar like her?"

"Of course I don't trust her you fool, but she'll do her job. And who knows, after she does get me what I want perhaps she'll become even more adored with her lies then you'll ever be with the truth."

"Forget you! I'll get you what I promised by using my powers for their own good!" She stood up and yelled at the sky. "I can't concentrate with you nagging in my ear!"

"I'll check back later." Back in the lair Hawkmoth cut the communication with Porcelain. "Dark wings fall!" And turned back into his formal attire as Gabriel Agreste. "Natalie, I may need your assistance tomorrow." He turned around to face Natalie who held a clipboard to her chest never showing more then a poker face.

"Of course. I would be happy to, sir."

"Right, go get some rest, it'll take a toll on you tomorrow."

She shook her head. "I'm fine, I've had all nighters before doing work, but you should get some sleep, we have a big day tomorrow. I'll watch over things for the night."

Back at the tower Porcelain looked over the Paris buildings to a small shop with it's lights still on. It was her parent's bakery. They were still up so late. She had the urge to go and visit them, but something stopped her. She was ashamed. 

"Damn it." She held her head in her hands and cursed at the world. It all seemed so unfair.

Last month she was adored by her friends and she adored them. Marinette was hanging out with everyone, and sure, once in awhile Lila would tell a lie, but she learned to ignore it. Over time she just left Lila alone and avoided her as long as it didn't affect anyone, but now, how did she end up like this. Her mind got foggy and her memories blurred together. She could only remember the bad parts.

Porcelain had forgotten the good inside of Marinette, and it scared her, not because she couldn't remember anything good, but because she didn't actually care. She couldn't even remember how her morning started. It had only been hours ago but she couldn't think of her parent's and their kind words. What she did remember was Lila. The lies. Alya ditching her in her time of need. Adrien's rejection. Her parent's pitying her. Ladybug.

Oh lord Ladybug. It was always Ladybug. Even Chat Noir prefers Ladybug. Adrien would probably prefer Ladybug. Alya would prefer Ladybug. Her parent's would be better off with a daughter like Ladybug.

Porcelain stopped gripping her skull with anger and let her arm frail onto her knee. She was Ladybug. But Ladybug wasn't her. No, she used to be Marinette. And Marinette is no Ladybug. Marinette's clumsy, a coward and a complete mess. Over a boy. A boy who didn't even like her. Or notice her. She was just a friend. She was a nobody. A wanna be fashion designer.

Marinette was always good at over thinking things, but Porcelain was the queen of over thinking.

A tear appeared from the dark hole of the mask where the eye should be and rolled down the porcelain surface. All her terrible negative feelings came crawling into her heart. Her chest hurt, it felt like something was pulling at her heart strings until they snapped. A punch in the gut. Her head ached and felt like it was on fire and going to explode. Water leaked from her eyes. She shook all over and couldn't breath. She was panicking. She hated this feeling of helplessness. This feeling of depression and anxiety. Eating at every nerve and cell in her body, until she snapped.

And she screamed.

A burst of red deflected from her like a ring of fire around her and widened until it disappeared into the night. She hunched and tried to calm herself. At this moment she knew she messed up. Hawkmoth had increased her emotions of betrayal before he went to bed leaving her to wallow in self loathing. She had no choice but to blame others.

Time had passed and she was walking around on the tower trying to control her emotions and also devising her plan while sewing a scarf together using the red thread she possessed. She had puppets guarding the castle.

"M'Lady." a Marionette approached her.

"Speak, but do not call me that." She ordered him still continuing to make the scarf.

"Several Marionettes whom are not under your control at the moment have asked for an audience with the great poupée de porcelaine."

"Very well."

A few moments later Nino, Rose, Juleka, Mylene, Ivan and even Luka appeared before her. They stood in front of her and She could tell by their faces what they wanted to say. This small group was made up of Kitty Section. The band Marinette designed for. Her closes friends other then Alya.

Nino was outwardly distraught making him the first to burst out his feelings. "How could you do that to Alya!"

Rose and Juleka stood on both sides of him and held his arms as if he would try to attack Porcelain. "This isn't what we practiced" Rose tried to calm him down.

Apparently practicing and deciding what they would tell her ahead of time was the plan to convince her to stop. Little did they know, the longer Marinette was under the Akuma's control the more she lost herself. It had already been too long for logic and reason to save her.

Ivan stepped forward and started first. "Marinette, we're sorry. All of us. We knew you didn't like Lila for some reason but we didn't take your feelings into consideration and hung out with her."

Porcelain's eye twitched in annoyance. "You think this is because I didn't want you guys to hangout with someone I don't like?"  She cracked her neck and continued. "True I despise Lila, and I didn't want anyone to hangout with her, but that's because she's a liar, and constantly tortures me, not because I just don't like her! Marinette wasn't so shallow she'd try to monopolize you guys!" She took the wooden controls from her side pockets and the thread connected to Nino and pulled him in front of her.

"Nino!"

Nino could still talk and looked her in the eyes. "I thought we were friends?"

Knowing Hawkmoth went to bed Porcelain got close to his ear so no one would hear her, and she whispered in Nino's ear, "Are you secretly Carapace?"

"H-how did you-?"

She asked more loudly so everyone could hear, "Are you? Answer the question!"

"N-No!" He gulped.

"Perfect." Porcelain watched his arm start cracking until it just shattered revealing a wooden surface. She let him go giving him free will.

Nino stepped backward away from her and tripped falling on his back. "AAARUGH!!" He yelled in pain. It felt like every bone in his body shattering even though it was just his arm. The pain continued for what seemed forever. He finally bit his tongue on the pain and sat up gripping his wooden left arm.

He had control of his body except for his left arm that was now wood. "What's happening!? I only told one lie! I shouldn't have shattered anything! It should just be a crack, right!?" He yelled at her confused and scared. The others ran to aid him.

"So you admit you lied to me." She started to walk in a circle around them and their eyes followed her every move.

"What's going on with his arm!?" Mylene spoke up.

She sighed, "True, a lie would usually only give you a crack, but, the bigger the lie, the more severe the injury." She winked. "Don't you wanna know what I asked him?" 

Luka stood up, "Marinette, this isn't you."

Again telling her who she was. People just couldn't take a hint. "My names Not Marinette!" She yelled and took control of them making them stand in a line. "It's poupée en porcelaine! Now leave before I decide to shatter you all." She demanded more then requested. With a point of the finger she forced them to walk out. 

"Wait!" Luka pleaded as his legs led him to the elevator. "Marinette! Please, wait, I just want to talk!"

She froze them for a second. The were in mid stepping pose facing the opposite direction of her. Staring at his back she asked, "If you stay here you'll be broken one way or the other. Are you willing To risk the damage?"

Juleka tried to look at her brother, "Luka, don't."

Luka had a soft smile on his face. "Sorry Jules, you'd do the same for Rose."

"Touching..." Porcelain mocked. "Your answer?"

"Yes. I'm okay with that." He spoke louder.

Porcelain walked up to him and examined him for any crack. He was telling the truth. She snapped her fingers and the rest of them walked to the elevator and left. She took away their speech temporarily so they wouldn't interfere until they left.

For the next minute they stood in silence just looking at each other. She wondered what he was looking at her for, what was he trying to find. She focused on his eyes. They were a clear blue, not like hers, his were deeper. Clear with no clutter. Why were his blue eyes so... Warm?

"Cold." He muttered.

Porcelain snapped out of her thoughts, "What?"

"I finally caught a glimpse of you're eyes behind the mask, when the light hits you just right, and they were cold."

She covered the eye he was focused on and turned her face slightly to hide her other. "Blue is cold."

He realized how rude that might've sounded. "No sorry." He scratched the back of his head and looked at the ground. "It's just that, your eyes are usually so warm."

For a second she thought he read her mind. Her eye brows furrowed and she made him stand up straight and look at her. "What nonsense are you spouting? Everyone knows blue is a cold, cold color."

He stood quietly and let her make her point. Studying her actions and moves. Trying to find an ounce of Marinette. He focused on her every detail. Her perfectly place hair in a bun with a red ribbon. The intricate detail on her dress. The carefully placed paint strokes on her mask and especially the way you can see her expression through her eyes.

"Do you ever dislike being in a band with your little sister, and her friends?"

Luka was caught off guard by the question. "What? No, of course not. I love my sister and her friends are mine too." No cracks, he was telling the truth.

"Really? You never feel childish being around them?"

"No they're awesome." He smiled knowing he had nothing to hide.

Porcelain grunted. "Do you even have friends outside of them?"

He nodded, "Yeah, I see them all the time."

"Ever wish you lived in a house like normal people?"

"I love living in a boat."

The two of them went back and fourth for quite a while. Porcelain started to run out of questions. She asked petty things like fights with Juleka, or stealing candy when he was young. Despite his looks he wasn't really a 'bad boy'. He was sweet and kind and honest. She hated it.

"There's got to be something you don't want to admit to! So admit it!" She was getting frustrated. "There's got to be something you lie about. And I'm going to find out."

He went silent and thought about something. Porcelain noticed he was hiding something. She was about to confront him with more questions, but he beat her to the punch. "I never want to lie to the girl I like."

She taken  aback. "What? Who?"

"Marinette." He said confidently.

"You're a liar, no one likes a nobody." She wasn't convinced.

"I do." He breathed. "Because to me, she's not a nobody. She's-"

"Like an everyday Ladybug, nice, good, perfect and all that crap!" She turned around as to not face him.

"No." He replied. "Ladybug isn't perfect. I don't know her personally so I can't say much about her personality. But no ones perfect or good at everything. Especially Marinette."

She felt a tug at her heart and the corners of her lips weigh down.

"Marinette isn't perfect, she's clumsy, and stammers, and sometimes it's like she's always in her head."

"You've made your point-"

"But I love that about her. She might fall a lot, but that only means I get to catch her. Her stammering is the cutest thing I've ever heard. And to be able to look at her when she's lost in thought is the greatest privilege I can have." He smiled and you could hear the passion of his words. "She has all the qualities of a super hero, but that's just one part of her, she's also an amazing girl."

"Stop it." She gripped both her upper arms.

"Her designs are incredible! She works hard and deserve every good thing in her life. She apologizes even if she's not in the wrong. And she's honest to a fault, that makes her unique because now a days there's nobody that honest. She tries to help those in need. She messes up, but she she'll try again until everything's fixed."

"I said enough!" She turned around waved her hand violently and took his speech away. She stomped in front of him only three inches from his face. "These are all lies!" She aimed her sight down and he mouthed something to her. 'I love you'. 

She backed up and held her fists at her side. "Why aren't you breaking!?" She shouted almost pleading. For some reason she was running away from love. Perhaps she didn't deserve it. "Lie!" Her voice got shaky and she got close to him and he mouthed it again. she hit his chest with her palms and her forehead landed on his chest. "Lies! All of them!" While one hand hit him repeatedly, the other slowly reached for her mask and slid it off letting her take a deep shaky breath.

Without knowing she had let control of him go and felt his arms wrap around her. "I love you, Marinette." And she let his chin rest on her head. "You're the song playing in my head, and the rhythm my heart beats too." There they stood on the Eiffel tower, embraced in each others cold china hold, with the warmest blue eyes.

"No.." A whisper was barely heard.

"Did you-" Luka started say before being pushed away.

He caught a glance at her face without the mask, her sapphire eyes glossed over with denial, and there was a notable break under her left eye.

"Marinette wha-?"

"My. Names. Not. Marinette!" With a wave of her hand she made him leave, immediately. As soon as she could no longer see him she fell to her knees and hung her head. "Damn it..." The lights of the Eiffel tower then turned off as if on que.

The next day was sure to be chaotic.

[ice-cream-nekogirl]

Izuku’s Hell

Hey ya’ll! I’m about to do something not that original lol after showing your version of Hell in https://ice-cream-kitsunegirl.tumblr.com/post/184306689634/young-love-and-an-episode-of-friends-bakugou here, I thought... what would the BNHA boys’ personal Hell’s be I wonder~? I really like the concept of the personal Hells they ma

So... I’ gonna write what I think would probably be their personal hells!! With you, the beloved reader being there to make sure to be there for your precious cinnamon rolls!!

Argh... I’m mean lol... but I live for the feels and the angst... and this is all cuz of my OC Shinigami striking again... his quirk is ‘Hell Prison’ except there’s no spirit plane, instead it just knocks them out and traps them in a comatose-state and showings them their personal Hell’s that they have to wake up from on their own.

First Victim... Deku!! Precious green bean~!!

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

The second Izuku opened his eyes he felt disoriented and beyond confused as he looked around with wide eyes full of quivering shock. “W-Where… where am I…?” He said to himself, even though part of him already knew where he was and what he was doing as he felt at least a million eyes on him and he saw nothing but rubble and destruction where he was standing.

Then it hit him. He had become the new Number 1 Hero, fighting against the world’s most evil villain: Tomura Shigaraki. This was all too familiar as he remembered All-Might’s tragic, epic fight against All For One. Except this was way worse, Izuku gasped when he saw how much damage had been done, all the buildings destroyed, fires blazing and crackling as the stink of smoke suffocated him.

And then he saw it. Blood, so much blood and several bodies of the fallen that didn’t survive some of the mayhem born from his fight with Shigaraki. All the lives he didn’t save…

“No…”

He thought in horror as tears welled in his itching eyes but then they widened the moment he focused his vision on Shigaraki. But Shigaraki wasn’t alone as he held a hostage by their throat and pressed his disgusting body against their back with his arm wrapped around their waist. Green eyes dilating as dread held his heart when he realized his worst nightmare come true.

It was you. 

“N-No, no…”

It was you, and Izuku was way too far to even try to go over to you in time to save you as Shigaraki held you close in his clutches. His deep chuckling felt disgustingly warm on your neck as he sneered at your boyfriend. “You’re just like All-Might… you can’t really save everyone after all. Not even your beautiful girlfriend…” Shigaraki’s twisted smile shook Izuku to his core as he looked at your terrified figure, and all the sounds of screaming and crying out for help were ringing loudly in his ears.

‘DEKU!!’

‘HELP ME PLEASE!!’

‘PLEASE SAVE US!!’

Izuku was hyperventilating as sweat trickled down his neck and forehead, feeling a wave of dizziness overwhelm his senses as he heard the cries, and saw the blood that almost made him want to vomit before he heard you yelp out in fear. He gasped when he saw your tearful (E/C) eyes when Shigaraki’s arms tightened around you.

“You’d let thousands of others die for one…? Some hero you are…”

He continued to taunt him as Izuku, for a moment let those words strike him as he stood there, frozen in terror. Until he saw Shigaraki licking your neck as you groaned and whimpered as you tried to pull away, “I-Izuku… please…” Your tears streamed down your face as you looked at your boyfriend, praying and hoping for him to hurry before Shigaraki did anything worse. He couldn’t let Shigaraki hurt you, he swore he would protect you, just like he had sworn to protect everyone…

But he couldn’t let you die…

You were the only person who believed in him when no one else did, and the love of his life. He HAD to save you.

“(Y/N)! I’m coming!!”

He took the first step, running faster than he ever had in his entire life, his senses fueled by adrenaline and fear as he headed towards you. But why did he feel like he was moving so slow? Why couldn’t he reach you?

“Izuku!”

You cried and reached your arm out for him when you thought Izuku had made it, his own arm stretched out to try and take your hand. Except your fingers started to turn into dust as Izuku’s eyes grew wide as he watched your face contort into one of horror and betrayal…

“You… said… you would… protect me…”

The words left your lips before your body fell apart and disintegrated as he saw Shigaraki’s fingers had dug into your throat and your hip. There was nothing left except a puff of dust that used to be you as Izuku stopped dead in his tracks and fell to the ground, unable to stop the tears dripping from his horrified eyes…

“(Y/N)!!!”

He clutched the dusted remains of you as the particles sunk into his fingernails as he wailed for you, his tears raining into the ashes beneath him. The sounds of the civilians screaming and Shigaraki’s cackling overwhelming him as he sobbed even louder and shut his eyes and covered his ears in hopes to block it all out.

This wasn’t real… this wasn’t real…

And the minute he opened his eyes again, he saw your body back in one piece but still being held by Shigaraki. He could still save you…

“(Y/N)! I’m coming!!”

“Izuku!”

But he couldn’t save you. He kept running and running towards you, reaching as far as he could and trying to take your hand, but Shigaraki kept pulling you away from him. His fingers sinking into your flesh and decaying your body again and again for Izuku to rewatch on a loop…

“You… said…”

“(Y/N)!!!”

“You’d let thousands of others die for one…?”

“I’m coming!!”

‘DEKU!!’

“Y-You would...”

“(Y/N)!!!”

‘PLEASE SAVE US!!’

“Some hero you are…”

“P-Protect me…”

“(Y/N)!!!”

Shigaraki always held onto you, his wicked grin torturing him as those awful fingers killed you over and over again before Izuku’s eyes. 

Your ashes clouded his face as he screamed and cried even harder and louder in horror and mourn as he fell back to his knees into the ashes, distraught and wracked with fear as bile rushed up to his throat as he retched and spewed out the contents of his stomach…

Hyperventilating and helplessly sobbing as he kept his eyes shut. It’s not real… it’s just a villain’s quirk…

IT’S NOT REAL!!

Izuku’s eyes snapped open as he shot up from the bed he was lying on with a loud inhale of oxygen, before he gasped in horror when all of the sickening visions and dreadful suffering sunk back into him after he woke up. Tears automatically flooding his eyes as he whimpered and started to hyperventilate as he stared down at his lap, and barely registered an array of voices calling his name and warm arms coming around him.

“Midoriya!!”

“Deku!”

“Izuku! Izuku you’re awake! Are you all right?!”

It was you, and you were in one piece and Izuku’s head shot up frantically as he looked around and saw the worried faces of Uraraka, Iida, Todoroki and Aoyama.

You were still there… you were here, safe, secure and he could feel you again but he was so scared and shook up that he could barely even move as you held onto him even tighter when he started crying. “Midoriya! Are you all right?” Todoroki was the first to ask him, concern etched over his features when he saw how terrified his friend looked.

“You were hit by a villain’s quirk. Mr. Aizawa caught them before they could escape but everyone is worried.” Iida gave him the intel and despite his fear, Izuku heard his friend and it all made sense to him and now he knew why he had woken up here in the nurse’s office.

“It was quite an attack…” Aoyama was visibly worried because he had seen the whole thing and as soon as the villain touched Izuku’s forehead, the boy had gone down and appeared to be passed out and had to be carried off. He didn’t suffer any internal injuries, but it was like he was in a coma, even though it had only been 15 minutes.

“Deku… what happened?” Uraraka was beyond worried because she has never seen Izuku look so scared as he remained silent for a moment, save for his little whimpers and sniffles.

“Izuku…” You pulled away and cupped his damp cheeks and looked at him with worried tears in your eyes, “Izuku… sweetheart are you okay…? W-What happened…?” You asked your beloved as gently as possible, but the poor thing looked ready to burst into tears again when he thought about that… that Hell...

“I-I was fighting… f-f-fighting… S-Shigaraki… j-just like A-All-Might f-fought All For One… b-b-but…” His voice cracked as he struggled to talk and more tears welled into his eyes and dripped into his clothes, “H-He… t-there were s-so many bodies I-I… I couldn’t… s-save them… a-and y-you… h-heeee h-h-held you hostage b-but… I-I couldn’t save you…” Izuku started sobbing through his barely coherent sentences, closing his eyes tightly in a poor attempt to stop the tears, but he couldn’t, “I-I-I… o-o-on… a-a lllloop… I-I-I t-tried… b-but I-I c-couldn’t reach you…!! (Y/N)! I couldn’t save you! I couldn’t save anyone! I’m sorry!! I-I tried! I broke my promise!! I-I’m so, so sorry (Y/N)!! I’m so sorry!!’” He wailed loudly and your first instinct was to engulf him into the biggest hug as he buried his face into your neck, sobbing his heart out while you rubbed his back in soothing circles, not caring about how wet your clothes were getting.

“I-I’m so sorry... I’m sorry... I-I’m sorry...!”

“Shhhh… no… no, no Izuku… d-don’t… cry… please don’t cry baby you’re okay… it wasn’t real… it wasn’t real… I’m here… I’m here I promise… don’t be sorry... there’s nothing to be sorry for...” Your own voice started breaking as you gently hushed your very upset and scared boyfriend, rocking him a little bit as you kept whispering ‘it’s okay’ to him as many times as needed. 

“You’re the greatest hero in the world Izuku… you’ve saved so many people… you’ve saved me so many times… Shigaraki can’t get me… I’d never let him… and I’d never let him get near you either…” It hurt remembering the ordeal at the mall where Izuku barely escaped with his life because of that degenerate. You wished over and over again that you could have gotten to him sooner, even though thankfully Uraraka showed up to make him leave, you didn’t want to imagine what would have happened to your dear Izuku if not for her…

“I’m right here… I swear I’m right here… and you didn’t break any promise… you’re okay… I’m okay… we’re all okay…” You didn’t dare let him go, kissing the top of his head as you smiled a bit when Izuku’s cries quieted down and he wasn’t trembling as bad once he felt your warm arms holding him and your soft voice reminding him that he was back to reality.

Neither of you saw how much Iida, Todoroki and Aoyama were blushing as they each looked away rather awkwardly at such a tender moment between you too. Uraraka on the other hand, appeared more somber, yet touched and relieved that Izuku was okay… 

“Take a deep breath for me ‘Zuku…” You whispered softly as Izuku shakily complied, his breaths still a bit shallow but with your encouragement he was able to slowly calm down as he focused entirely on your voice and your arms around him. 

He was here... you were here... 

“I’m… I’m so glad…” Izuku sniffled and was able to speak more clearly again after calming down a little bit, even though he let out a small sob of relief as he hugged you rather tightly. His breathing shaky as he felt your body against his, taking in your smell and your warmth and nuzzling into your shoulder as you hummed stroked his soft hair.

You loved this boy so much it broke your heart seeing him break down like that, but no villain was ever going to frighten him like that again. “Me too… oh Izuku… Izuku I love you… don’t let any villain’s quirk make you doubt that okay…?” Blushing, you pulled away to gently peck him on the lips as the boy perked up and his cheeks flushed a bright red and his expression turned bashful.

“I…I won’t…” He stuttered rather shyly as you giggled a bit, now you knew your boyfriend was definitely mostly okay again. But you hugged him again, tightly and lovingly and Izuku didn’t fight it as he put his arms around you, holding you in the biggest hug.

He might have promised to always protect you, but even heroes like him needed you to save him too.