#as i said... Tragic. Which is the point. which is why it's fine.

[amaranthineghost]

Hiiiii!!!

Can you write smth where lando and his gf try this chocolate which makes you horny and see how long they can go without touching each other

| HIS HANDS TOUCH ME LIKE MY SKIN IS STICKY, HE'S GLUED TO ME ( lando norris. ) |

ꕥ pairing: lando x reader

ꕥ summary: lando and his girlfriend try special chocolate and make it a competition to see who will lose first, and he's struggling to resist the urge to touch her.

ꕥ authors note: sorry this took so long to write, I was super busy and I don't know why this took me so long to make it half decent to read. i also wrote part of this with my new apple pencil! So that was super cool, but also weirdly difficult since my hand writing is slightly tragic.

ꕥ warnings: smut

FUCK, IT WAS HARD. he couldn't take it. he couldn't take the girl that sat across from him on the couch, lying perfectly on her stomach as if she didn't need him as bad as he needed her. after all, it was her plan, her bet, yet he'd been the one suffering.

clearly he had massively underestimated her, something he didn't do often. but he didn't expect her to be this nonchalant after eating the special chocolates she'd presented to him. he didn't expect her to have seemingly no reaction, or at least act like she didn't.

because he was going insane. he didn't expect the simple chocolate square she fed him to have such an effect on him, feeling the material of his pajama pants becoming tighter with every passing minute, and she appeared fine.

it hadn't even been 15 minutes since she challenged him to the bet and he was already a mess. she hadn't even done anything either, all she did was lie on the couch with her phone in her hands.

he wasn't sure how long he'd last. surely it couldn't be much longer with the thoughts of filth in his head, desperate to give him something to elevate his chances of outlasting her. it was unlikely, the dirty thoughts all consisted of her, and it aided him in no way, only hindering his ability to resist her.

fuck, he didn't expect it to be this agonizing, her skin was simply taunting him as she wore short shorts and a shirt she'd cut the collar off of, exposing the skin of her collarbone. her hair draped down her back, begging to be tangled in his veined hands as he forced himself down her throat, fuck. all he needed was her pretty, pink lips wrapped around the problem she caused when she first presented him with the special sweets.

his hips rolled against the couch at a desperate attempt to get comfortable with the aching bulge in his pants that he needed to be resolved so badly by her. a groan almost escaping past his throat at the friction of his pants. he hoped she didn't notice.

she did. she'd noticed because her vision was hyperfocused on his movement in her peripheral, watching every twitch in his body and every bounce in his leg. she felt the lingering eyes on her body, she knew he needed her, and she'd be lying if she said she didn't need him as much as he did, if not more.

the heat was uncomfortable between her thighs as she tried to ignore the effects of the sweets they'd eaten earlier as a challenge. because how else should they spend their time together other than trying to resist each other’s touch? she had tried to remain stoic as she saw the desperacy that’d become in his pants, a problem she knew only she could solve without leaving him aching for more.

he couldn’t satisfy himself with his own right hand, it wouldn’t be enough. he knew that and so did she—it was dangerous information she’d so quickly learnt after only a few nights in bed.

so seeming as he’d be unable to satisfy his troubles, it had made the challenge all the more agonizing. though it hadn’t been against the rules to take care of themselves, he wouldn’t. they only had one rule: don’t touch each other. so simple yet so torturous for the young driver when his girlfriend was this tempting.

he ached to feel her around him, in any way at this point because he so badly wanted to see her on her knees in front of him, turning red from the carpet underneath her, wanting to wrap her hair in his hands.

he didn't know what to do other than to sit and suffer as he tried to get some sort of stimulation to hold him until she caved. He hoped she would because he didn't know how much longer he could last before he'd ruin her. the image in his mind as he'd picture the scenario of her beneath him. But it wouldn't be long.

she stood up, so abruptly he nearly lost his breath. she finally caved, he thought in utter relief. he almost sighed, he was so relieved she'd been the one to lose. but she hadn't when she walked right past where he sat on the couch. he nearly lost his mind, he was so desperate and she passed right by him like she didn't even care.

she returned  with a bottled water in hand, completely undisturbed by the very disturbed lando she would almost walk by, almost. He reached out with his hands, digging into her sides when she reappeared, she yelped, caught off-guard with his hasty actions. he'd pull her into his lap, the water bottle falling to the carpet as her back pressed into his chest.

he groaned lowly into her ear when her ass pushed against his bulge, grasping the flesh of her waist so tightly, he watched  the skin turn red under his fingertips, and fuck did it turn him on even more. if that was possible. the friction caused by the clothes acting as a barrier caused his hips to buck against her.

he needed her, in any way he could get, he wanted to be selfish. so when he muttered in a raspy voice, "on your knees, pretty girl," she obliged, seeing as she wanted to please him in any way she could, especially since she hadn't been the one to lose.

she slipped from his lap, the skin of her knees digging into the rug. she watched him fumble with the waistband of his pants, he was desperate and she had all the power over him in the moment. she knew he was at her will.

she reached up to where he struggled with pulling the elastic down, wrapping her finger over the hem and pulling down his pajama pants and boxers painfully slow. she savored the moment, he wanted her to end his prolonged suffering.

past his thighs, down to his knees, and eventually piling at his ankles. he was hard, precum seeping down his shaft to show he'd been waiting too long. he sucked in a breath at the contact with the cold apartment air.

she ran her hands up his thighs, watching the goosebumps follow her cold hands. she controlled his pleasure. all while keeping eye contact, filled with lust and tension. when her hands reached his cock, she teased him by running a single finger down his hard length inciting a curse from his mouth and the movement in his hips. her other arm came to rest against the skin above his knee, the bone of her elbow pressing into the muscle.

she didn't tease him for long because what comes around, goes around. she didn't need him torturing her in the near future so she spit into the palm of her hand, though she thought it was most likely unnecessary for her to do. wrapping her hand around him caused the groan in his throat to escape past his lips.

he was a mess in her hands, strings of moans escaping his mouth with every slow stroke of his cock. he begged for her to pick up the pace, give him more.

so she figured she would, moving her hand ever so slightly faster, running her thumb across his tip before she leaned her head close to his cock, giving him kitten licks that left saliva down his shaft. she felt the moment his hand finally found her hair, tangling his fingers as he closed his hand in a fist.

she changed  from small grazes with her tongue to kissing back up to his tip. she slowly swirled  her tongue around the head of his cock. it caused lando to throw his head back, his neck on full display with his adam's apple bobbing with every noise of pleasure.

with his hand in her hair, he pushed  her down further on his cock so now her mouth was full of him. she squeaked against him, and he groaned loudly at the vibrations through his hard length, "fuck-"

he let out curse after curse as she sucked him off, hollowing her cheeks around his shaft which incited him to pull her further down by her hair, her nose nearly meeting the skin above the base of his cock. he could feel the struggle in her throat, praising her accordingly, "fuck-you take me so well, pretty girl." he'd hold himself down her throat only momentarily, he didn't want to hurt her too much.

when she pulled back, she panted heavily as the only thing that connected them was the trail of saliva from bottom lip to his tip. her face was reddened and flushed, a result of the move he just pulled. he removed the hand lost in her hair, moving to caress the side of her head instead.

he patted  his thigh for her to return to the original position they found themselves in. she was confused though, he didn't cum so why was he telling her to sit back on his lap? she’d find out.

she’d find out when she stood before him, seeing he still wore his shirt but the bottom had ridden up his abs. her stomach flipped at the sight of his happy trail that led to his erection. she stood still because she didn't know what else to do.

he reached behind her and pulled her by the backs of her thighs onto his bare lap. he cursed when her clothed heat grinded against his cock, his hands grasping her waist as he rolled her hips against him, hearing the small moans that left her lips. he smirked at how easily he could rile her up without doing much.

he sighed when she ran her frigid hands up his abs and under his shirt to his chest. she trailed them back down to the hem before peeling the material from his body while his hands remained firm on her hips. only for a second did he lift his hands to remove his shirt. the only thing that remained was his silver chain.

when his hands returned to her sides, his fingers disappeared under her top, feeling the hidden skin before he slowly pulled it from her body. he swore he felt himself get harder at the sight of her exposed chest, already finding himself fondling her flesh.

but he soon remembered  how desperate he was. he didn't have the patience to take her shorts off, watching her face as he pushed aside the cloth, hearing her hiss at the coolness though quickly replaced when he ran a couple of fingers across her cunt. she nearly threw her head back, just as he had done.

they didn't have time to mess around though as their already decently high sex drive had increased ten fold, hormones running at an all time high. so he wanted to waste no time, hastily dragging his fingers covered in her slick down his tongue. when he lined up his cock to her heat, pushing her down on him. a raspy moan escaped past his lips as he watched himself disappear past her folds. fuck, it was exhilarating feeling her walls around him, it always was.

as badly as he wanted it, he'd let her do the work. initially, she had just rolled her hips to create the friction they both craved from each other. but her movements were practically effortless, not costing her a heavy breath, it just simply wasn't enough.

despite the moans he'd let out, he needed more. he halted her movements, feeling her clench around him at the sudden lack of pleasure. instead he guided her up and down on his cock, lifting her so slowly then slamming her back down until he completely filled her, groaning lowly at the scream he'd caused to leave her lips. their skin lewdly slapped together as he'd continue the movements for her, eventually sitting back to watch as she bounced on his cock.

"you’re so pretty on my cock, darlin' " he'd praised, "such a good slut for me."

fuck, was it a glorious sight that'd been for his eyes only, watching her use his cock to pleasure herself. that’s what he liked to think because it got him off to see her enjoying herself, by any means. constant moans and occasional curses followed by his name, he could've come undone right as his name left her lips.

he noticed the staggered pace, how heavily her bare chest rose and fell, how she struggled to keep the momentum he'd set for her. by pushing her back, she pressed against him, face buried in his neck as her moans breathed across her skin. he’d wrap both arms around the small of her back to steady her, jutting his hips sharply upwards, followed quickly by her screams of pleasure as he plowed into her until she came hard on his cock, his thrust slowing to a halt.

they laid still for a while, his cock still stuffed inside of her as she stayed on him. the sweat on their skin mixing and the only sound that could be heard was the recovery of their breaths. peeling her body from his, he stood and didn't reach far to grab the previously disregarded water bottle, pushing it into her hand.

he disappeared, though not for long as he came back  with a damp rag and clean clothes for both of them. he gently parted her legs, first cleaning her inner thighs before ever so slightly across her sensitive clit, causing her to cry out softly.

“shhh,” he shushed her as he continued more gently this time.

“this was your doin’, love."

—

proofread by @vroomvroomverstappen <3

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

just a little something for the darling @yournowheregirl to wake up to! it sounds kinda dumb and insignificant, but i always appreciate your tags in the fun tag games that come across your dash and for always being one of the first that ask something from those ‘ask me’ posts i reblog! it makes me feel appreciated and i am super grateful every time 🥰🫶🥹

There was meant to be two beds.

Steve specifically got a double king room for the goblins, and another room with two queens for him and Eddie.

So of course as soon as they got into Milwaukee the night before the D&D themed nerd fest, the (actually very nice) woman at the front desk says: “We had to swap around the rooms, but the two will still sleep all you boys, don’t worry!”

Whatever. That’s fine, right? They’ll all have a spot to sleep the next two nights they’re here for the kids’ (and Eddie’s) dragon game convention.

He gets back to their rented minivan and passes the key cards to Eddie in the passenger seat.

The van was just the first point of contention between him and the kids’ beloved Dragon Meister, followed closely by…everything else.

The first thing Eddie said when Steve showed up in the rented van was “King Steve is coming along on our journey?”, to which Steve could only respond with “This ‘super cool’ guy you assholes have been going on about this whole time is Eddie “The Freak” Munson? Really?”

Following closely behind are: the tapes and tapes of loud garbled ‘music’ Eddie insists on playing, his absolutely tragic way of unwrapping Steve’s burgers for him when they stop for lunch, the wariness Steve has in the first place about this being the guy Dustin wouldn’t stop talking so highly about…this nerdy, obnoxious, third-time senior…great.

“204 is the Hellions’ room, 207 is us.”

Eddie bends an arm backwards into the feral beast enclosure the second two rows have become over the last six hours and Steve’s surprised he still has his hand when it returns to the front.

Steve gets the van parked in the hotel’s garage, and they head up to their rooms.

“Alright, assholes,” he says to the somehow still rambunctious masses, “This is you guys, Make sure you’re up by eight so we—“

“Yeah Steve, we got it,” Dustin scoffs, “As if we’d risk being late to this.”

Steve rolls his eyes with a “Fine, goodnight.” and shuffles the few steps across the hall to his and Eddie’s door, leaving the troops to file into theirs.

The only thought in his head is of laying down and getting the fuck to sleep. It wasn’t even that late but—

“Oh you’ve got to be shitting me.”

So that’s what brings them here. To their one barely queen sized bed.

“I guess I’m on the floor then, huh?”

“I’m not about to let you sleep on the floor.”

“Oh, the King has chivalry does he?” Eddie rolls his eyes and throws his duffle onto the armchair in the corner.

“As much as you, asshole; I just want you to have the energy to corral the gremlins tomorrow.” Steve scrubs a hand down his face. “Look, we’ll just deal with it tonight and I’ll get another room tomorrow.” he lies. As if he’s got the cash for that.

Eddie looks him over, and seems to come to whatever conclusion he needs to because he says “Fine, but you better not be a blanket hog.”

Eddie’s the worst blanket hog Steve’s ever had the displeasure of knowing.

He thought Robin was bad, but this is something else.

Eddie’s fully a burrito within an hour of laying down. After a hearty, but silent, game of tug of war over the worn duvet.

Steve falls asleep angry and cold, and wakes up on a cloud.

He’s so warm and so entangled in the comforter, he can’t help but snuggle deeper into the pillow he’s clutched onto.

The pillow hums back at him and scoots itself under his chin with a sigh.

Steve squeezes tighter onto the pillow momentarily, but his curiosity of why his pillow’s making noise gets the better of him.

He cracks his eyes open, looking down at the thing in his arms.

It shifts as well, and Eddie Munson blinks up at him with those (holy shit…beautiful, deep, dark) doe eyes of his.

“Hi.” Steve breathes.

Eddie’s eyes flutter shut, and shuffles himself back into Steve’s neck.

Steve chooses to blame the still sleepy bit of him for curving himself back around Eddie.

“How’d you sleep?” Steve whispers into the now-bared hairline under the other man’s bangs.

“Fucking amazing…” Eddie mumbles, snaking an arm over Steve’s waist and settling a hand in the middle of his back. “How ‘bout you, Stevie?”

“Stevie, huh?” Steve chuckles.

It’s only then that Eddie seems to come to his senses, his head shooting up before he scrambles away, falling straight onto his back between the opposite side of the bed and the wall with an “Oof!” and a “Fuck!”

“Oh shit!” Steve shuffles off the bed and helps Eddie back up, ”You alright, Eds?”

“Yeah..yeah, I’m fine..” Steve gets Eddie back on his own two feet and (reluctantly) lets him go once he’s stable.

‘Reluctantly? Why reluctantly? What the hell??’

“Sorry I was all over you, not the greatest thing to wake up to, huh?” Eddie says, huffing a sardonic laugh under his breath.

Steve hums nonchalantly, “It wasn’t all bad, I slept pretty fucking amazing too.”

Eddie hums an acknowledgment, then: “I wouldn’t—“ Eddie starts at the same time Steve says “I should—“

“You go ahead,”

Eddie’s hands come up between them, spinning the rings on his fingers nervously. “I was going to say that…I.. Iwouldn’tmindifyoustayedtonight..too.”

Steve blinks. “Good thing I was going to say that I really should save my money.”

Eddie’s smile is slightly nervous, but there’s a hopeful tinge to it that Steve can only assume means what he thinks it does (hopes it does).

“Leaves me with more to spend on the Gremlins, right?” he shrugs.

Eddie beams. “Glad to know we’re on the same page, Harrington.”

also, if you haven’t heard it recently: Alice, YOU’RE DOING AMAZING SWEETIE 🤩

[massiveladycat]

i will never get over people laughing at octavian's death personally,,, he was SHOT INTO THE AIR!!! thats so painful. all the burns and the impact, plus being flung from a cannon and probably slamming into gaia (literal earth goddess) plus festus (gigantic metal dragon, i bet that HURT) and leo (pretty sure leo was burning)

he was a kid and he was annoying to some people and he was usually antagonized but he didnt deserve to die OR go out in that way. the gods are a thousand times worse than octavian, and apollo told him that he'd be a savior of new rome, but people still justify them. not to mind there are much worse people in the PJO universe (gabe, LUKE)

octavian ily they could never make me hate you EVER. idc what you say he could have been redeemed. did he do bad things? yes. but he was so deeply influenced and the day meeting with leo and the others, in which i remind you octavian literally was watching new rome get blown up (no wonder he was livid, his home was on FIRE).

like come on. octavian is a complex character and people aren't willing to admit that he could've been better and he was just a literal teenager in the sake of hating him because everyone else/pjo characters hate him.

he is such a tragic character imo because he grew up in new rome and all he wanted to do was protect it (and he was highly ambitious and aiming for praetor, i won't deny the fact that he was selfish but that is a quality that can be REDEEMED) and sure the way he went about it was messed up but most of his actions (except killing that one centurion) were justifiable

btw im not saying octavian's like an angel or anything im pretty sure i remember him "killing" a 5th cohort centurion once but then she was revived which . . . what was the point of that?? was it just to like make us hate him more?? huh??? and then was it even ever talked about again?? also yeah he blackmailed hazel thats not good also judging from the wikipedia it only said frank suspected octavian because.. he didn't have his spear?? what?? reminder that there is proof that a lot of pjo characters are unreliable narrators and for all we know octavian could've screwed up somehow and left his spear somewhere (just saying i'd do that too ngl)

also "I am the savior of Rome! I was promised!" i didnt know why but that quote DESTROYED me but now i know that it was because he genuinely believed he was doing the best for new rome and he'd finally have someone's praise and they'd praise him like they praised percy and reyna. pretty sure his mental state was not very good in that scene either and nico and will just let him shoot himself out of an onager on accident. also are we just going to gloss over the fact apollo told him that and encouraged him he was doing the right thing?? of COURSE octavian trusted apollo on that and believed it was the truth; apollo was his ancestor and someone he worshipped as an augur and trusted in for omens and prophecies and allat

yeah. octavian's an asshole. but he was a kid and he couldve been redeemed. then again i am a huge octavian apologist and im not saying you have to have the same opinions as i do also i will not be responding to any asks in my inbox im 2 tired to deal with that!! anyways dont go and insult people or me if you think the opposite thats fine !! i was just bored and found this in my drafts so whats the harm of posting it because im not going to get sent threats over this right,,, right??????

[shadowed-dancer]

Villains and Their Fates - A Tragedy Would Have Been Fine By Me

I've seen a lot of people who try to write off frustration with the league's fates by saying "you just wanted them to survive" or "you're just upset your favourite character died". And while that may be true for a few people, I know that it's at least not true for myself (which must mean there are others who feel the same way). So today I'm here to share my thoughts. Despite liking the villains and wanting them to be redeemed, I was also willing to accept a well written ending if they died. I just wanted to ramble a bit about the three main villains (mostly Toga) and how I felt a tragic ending could have been improved.

The only villain I felt should have lived is Dabi, but that's more because of the awkwardness his unconfirmed death caused for Shoto (read this beautifully written analysis for more). If Dabi had to die, he should have died on the battle field OR in the hospital surrounded by family where he gets a few last words in. Leaving his fate unconfirmed leads to the ruined Shoto arc, but is also just weird for a character who has existed for so long. You're telling me that even Overhaul gets a confirmed ending but DABI doesn't?

I've also talked a bit about how Endeavor's survival ruins the subplot, and in 426 he continues by making Touya's final appearance about him (rather than the two brothers) but that's something I've talked about too much. If Endeavor has to be alive and hogging screen time, the least Hori could do is imply Touya will survive rather than die, so at least Enji isn't literally stealing time from his other family members to have some interaction with Touya.

If Touya has to end up in that machine, an ideal ending would have been the doctor saying "it will be a gruelling and near-impossible uphill climb to recovery" and then Shoto can smile and say "he's done it before". Boom. Simple as that. Leave it open, but at least on a positive note so we can assume that the family will have plenty of time to reconcile, as opposed to an unknown (but limited) amount of time that Enji vows to use to talk to him (yeah I know it's supposed to be a sweet gesture but even Touya calls bullshit on it). Let Shoto and Touya eat their soba, damn it!

For Shigaraki, my grievances extend to the writing of the entire final battle between him and Deku. As such, I don't have much to say aside from that because it really is just a product of poor writing. Neither were really allowed to talk before the big moment (hell, the vestiges were narrating Deku's emotions half the time like "he must be upset, this quirk meant so much to him". Why not let him tell us???) and the back-and-forth of Shigaraki being destroyed and then not only to be destroyed again was too much. It felt sloppy and hard to follow, and once you figured it out it just felt dumb. It's as if each chapter needed some massive reveal, but the story had done it so much at this point that it just felt tired and like it was happening "because Hori said so", and that should never be what drives a story.

Speaking of "because Hori said so"...

Oh Toga. Out of all the villains, I actually liked her confrontation the most. (Lies. If Dabi vs Shoto was the end of Dabi's fight, THAT would have been the best. But the Endeavor fight ruins it). Despite having limited screen time, Toga and Uraraka had a surprisingly well-built dynamic. Their few interactions were actually meaningful and created a strong foundation for a fight, and at the very least they had more of a personal connection than Deku and Shigaraki ever did. I think that Toga giving her blood to someone she loves (as opposed to drinking/taking their blood like she had said the whole series) is a beautifully tragic end to her character, but still something that could have fit.

To me, the problem comes with how she died. Let me replay the scene for you: Toga stabs Uraraka in the stomach and Uraraka bleeds too much because she keeps moving around. Toga then realizes she doesn't want Uraraka to die. To save her life, Toga has to do a blood transfusion with herself as a donor and she dies because she has to give ALL her blood.

Now... sure. Ok. Fine. Yeah. Maybe by real-world logic this makes sense. I guess. Whatever. But within the world of MHA, this setup is laughable.

Here's a list of things characters survived (or at least, they survived LONG ENOUGH to get to a hospital rather than dying on the battlefield): Deku shattering his bones with 1 million percent, whatever happened to Best Jeanist when AFO attacked him, Nighteye getting a massive spike through the torso, All Might with "his entrails strewn across the ground", Bakugo becoming Swiss cheese, Grand Torino being punched so hard a crater forms beneath him, Touya being a literal flaming skeleton, Bakugo's heart exploding, Edgeshot becoming a worm. Mirko getting a limb ripped off and then running full speed at Shigaraki. That's just off the top of my head, I know there's probably more.

But you want to tell me that Uraraka getting stabbed and then moving was a fatal wound that required ALL TOGA'S BLOOD? ALL OF IT? The reason Toga's death bothers me is that the setup cheapens the actual moment of sacrifice. It feels preventable, so when she tells us that Uraraka is going to die without her blood, all I could do is roll my eyes because I'm not allowed to use critical thinking skills, I have to just accept what Hori says and take it at face value.

If the author wants you to live as Edgeworm despite saying you were gonna die, you can. But if the author needs a stab wound to be fatal and require ALL of someone's blood? Well tough luck bud, that's just how it goes. Mirko can run and move all she wants after having a limb ripped off, but moving a bit after one stab wound is fatal. Why? Because I say so.

If Uraraka's wound was actually serious then this ending would have been a beautiful tragedy. But as it stands now, the ridiculousness of her wound makes it all feel preventable.

Oh, there's also the fact that Toga switching blood types when she transforms was never established, but I've rambled enough.

That's it. Thanks for reading!

[david-talks-sw]

The biggest problem in "The Acolyte"

I think I've given this show a fair shake. There are parts in it that I really like, and I think this sits in 3rd/4th place in my ranking of favourite Disney - Star Wars shows.

But here's the thing. It felt underwhelming. The only time I was genuinely excited was during the fight scenes, any of them.

But when I think about the events that take place in the show... they're not so bad! There's nothing really lore-breaking, I like flawed characters doing their best. It's okay!

So why was I almost always deadpan, while watching it?

Structure.

The show doesn't have the same issue as other Disney Plus series, wherein they treat it as a 10-hour movie and thus lose all momentum every time. Headland knows how to raise the stakes properly... but unfortunately, the result is the same!

Because this series was structured and marketed as if it was some kind of investigative thriller, a noir movie about Jedi being murdered and needing to find the killer. And when you look at the events, and at the story it's telling... it really isn't that.

So when you're trying to make these twists... they're all predictable.

How could Osha have killed Indara when she's working as a meknik-- she has a twin.

But who could the Sith in the mask possibly be-- iiiit's Qimir, y'know, the guy who's literally quoting the Sith code and is trying his hardest to seem harmless.

Why is Mae going around killing these Jedi-- they had it coming, they likely wronged her in a way that was unintended and now she's in pain because of it.

What's the mystery behind the twins-- they weren't conceived biologically, they were created using the Force. They're Anakin 1.0.

Were the witches really killed by the fire? What did we miss, why are the Jedi so guilt-ridden over it-- the other side of the story, showing the Jedi probably killing them all through some big well-intentioned-but-misled accident that could've been avoided, which the Jedi now feel guilty over and try to cover up.

Osha seems to be fine with the Jedi arresting her sister-- her heartlessness makes her the perfect Sith, by the end of the Season, she'll be an apprentice and Mae will be on the good side.

Who is Qimir's former teacher-- Vernestra. His scars look like they come from a lightsaber whip.

Is Qimir the Sith master-- probably not, just an apprentice, a self-proclaimed non-Bane-lineage Sith, or an acolyte himself.

Will Sol survive the show-- no, he's gonna die, because of course he is, by Episode I, the Sith have been thought to be extinct for a millenia.

If you're a casual viewer, maybe these wouldn't be as obvious. But if you're a fan, it's like it's written on a billboard. And like, clearly Leslye Headland knew that this would be the case:

"I think a good twist is not about hiding everything from the audience and then throwing it on them like, 'Hey, this is what you didn't see! We hid it so well that you didn't see this!'" says Headland. "I think a good twist is telegraphing what's going to happen, and then once it does, executing it without an ounce of pity or sentimentality."" - Leslye Headland, Entertainment Weekly, 2024

But here's the thing.

You can't make an audience feel as if the stakes have been raised, when we can tell where this is all going.

Because then we're not watching, we're waiting for what will inevitably happen to finally occur. If most of these "mysteries" had been structured as simple plot points in a more straight-forward story about...

Two sisters trying to get back to each other after an incident in their lives caused by the Jedi.

The Jedi Master coming to terms with the fact that his flawed decisions led to tragic consequences.

A Sith Lord trying to appropriate the sisters' powers for himself.

... then I think that I wouldn't feel as underwhelmed.

Instead it's a murder mystery, and we already know the murderer, what motivates said murderer, how said murderer was wronged, etc... and they're feeding us the information by the breadcrumb to build up to these twists, but we can basically guess what these twists are.

Don't treat obvious plot points like a secret. You can get away with it a couple of times, but not with every single one of them. C'mon.

ADDENDUM:

[skrrts]

strawberry cakes (oneshot)

✧ gn!reader x park seonghwa ✧ genre: non idol, slice of life, fluff, engaged ✧ word count: 1,8k ✧ warnings: food/eating

After the most adorable proposal & your graduation, Seonghwa and you are ready to start the journey to plan the wedding of your dreams: maybe you do not have the greatest budget but isn't it normal for all couples to make use of the free wedding cake-tasting?

a/n: this came to mind when i saw hwa's new Instagram post yesterday. it's kind of inspired by one of my drabbles but you can totally read it without having read that one and maybe one day i will write the wedding to go with it T_T

After graduation and moving together, starting your first job, Seonghwa and you both spent a few weeks going through budgeting. With your small savings and the little your families added (insisting it was what they should do), it was obvious that you really would get the small wedding you two dreamt of but it also meant, cutting a little on corners that you likely would have enjoyed to invest more in. Not that it was tragic, but your aunts all were amazing bakers and you had no doubts, you had to worry less about them volunteering to help with a buffet, baking a few things so you could put that money in the most important cake of all.

After going through the options, Seonghwa and you settled down with one specific bakery that really seemed lovely, based on photos and reviews from other couples online. They even were in your budget if you decided to go with one of their less decorated cakes but your fiance had the idea that you really should make the most out of the cake testing which would mean plenty of free sweets.

"You really dressed the part," you chuckled as Seonghwa was cutely posing in front of you, grinning. "Well, we two are stunning, they will easily take we are some rich picky couple. The story of us being torn between an aesthetical or minimalistic wedding will be the perfect excuse why we end up with a smaller kind of order if we go for them."

His arms curled around your figure as he placed a kiss on top of your forehead. "You really have no bad feelings for stealing cake from them, don't you?"

Your man looked just a little innocent: "I'd not say we steal. After all, we go there with the actual intention of hiring them. I would more say, we take the same right as all of those other couples, the full experience."

Oh, how could you not think he was the sweetest?

"Of course, of course. Well, if my outfit is approved of by my very wealthy husband-to-be, I'd say we are good to go?"

Seonghwa stepped back as you playfully posed for him but he gave you the kindest of smiles, the spark in his eyes ever so present. He never stopped looking at you like this, if anything, his admiration seemed to grow, sometimes making you feel just a little shy.

"You are the most beautiful person in the entire universe for me," he whispered, pulling you close and kissing you lovingly. "My star," Seonghwa cupped your chin and your cheeks were likely as red as a strawberry at this point.

"If you keep going like that, I am not sure we will make it there because I might melt into a puddle," you joked and he laughed. "Fine, let's make sure we get to eat all of the free cake first."

Seonghwa gently took your hand, squeezing it as you made it to the car.

The café wasn't too far away, barely a twenty-minute drive and a very friendly-looking lady already expected you. The place was closed on Sundays but more so to invite in couples to try their cakes.

"You two are beautiful, I already can see it, an outdoor spring wedding with your loved ones," she clapped her hands together, quite excited. "Strawberries will be in season then, such a good choice. I have prepared six different cakes I believe would fit beautifully."

She rambled on while leading you to a small table with a lovely decoration. Seonghwa pulled the chair back for you to sit down at, you gave him a soft smile before he took the one next to you.

"So you said you are aiming for a more minimalistic but elegant cake?" she opened a file with the information you had to fill out online ahead of the appointment.

"Indeed," Seonghwa used what you liked to call 'his business voice' when he was not cute but looked like the hot guy everyone wanted at their office and he was more discussing business than wedding cakes.

"As you said, we have planned a Spring wedding, my family has this lovely traditional property," he continued and you were glad the woman served some coffee because it was hard to stay all serious. Seonghwa and you worked with a budget and his uncle's small Summer house had a lovely garden close to the river. It was far from modern but it seemed perfect for your own wishes and other locations were quite expensive.

"We have been together for quite some time and we care more for traditions and values rather than to leave a great impression on the media. This is why we have chosen your cafe. The cakes are lovely with such a unique design," he concluded and the woman was more than thrilled to hear this.

"Mister Park, count on us. If you decide on one of our cakes, you will receive the one of your dreams."

With that she pulled out photos, showing you different concepts from more detailed ones that had price tags you two automatically knew were out of the question to two that seemed promising.

"I really like this one. The details are lovely but not too ... sappy. Would it be possible to maybe have a few smaller bites like cupcakes to go with it or something similar? We could place the cake in the middle surrounded by them;" you asked although you regretted how you did not bother to look up names of those things, only focused on cake.

"We are quite keen on the strawberries," Seonghwa chuckled, squeezing your hand which he had been holding the entire time.

"Oh yes, absolutely! I will give our baker a small call, maybe she can send an example. Would you like to try the different variants meanwhile?"

Your fiancé's eyes sparkle: "Oh yes, of course. Please do take your time."

He kept it together until a platr was served with four different combinations of fillings for the cake as she excused herself. Seonghwa was eager to pick up a fork and carefully picked some of the first slice, offering it to you, a hand placed underneath to ensure it wouldn't slip off.

"You look an awful lot excited, Mister Park," you teased but leaned in, accepting it. He was pleased to see you obviously enjoying the taste, covering your mouth with a hand.

"Of course I do, I have the most lovely person next to me while picking the cake for our wedding," he hummed before also trying some of it, making a face. "This reminds me of the overpriced cake I had during my trip to Paris when I learned only later how I spent my entire budget of a day on a cake."

You chuckled, taking a spook to offer the second option to him: "Ah yes, that infamous trip with Hongjoong for your graduation. I am relieved you two made it back home, based on all that happened."

Seonghwa blushed a little but he leaned in, accepting the spoon. The moment you were about to lean back, he pulled you in and sealed your lips into a kiss.

You didn't even have time to gasp when you were kissing softly, tasting the remains of the strawberry cream on Seonghwa's lips. Your heart was beating loudly when your arm curled around his neck. Sometimes, it was still hard to believe you were about to marry this man. Now the times when you were reading college books while he was lying in bed next to you, snuggled onto your side while playing Animal Crossing felt like a lifetime ago.

You couldn't wait to see how it would change over the years, all the new memories. As his spouse.

"I love you, so much", he whispered and his big eyes looked at you full of love. You bit your lip: "I love you too, Hwa."

There was no more time when the woman returned with an iPad in her hand: "How about those? Very popular in France right now and they would go lovely with any cake."

Seonghwa quickly had another bite from the slice as you looked at it: "I love them, what do you think love?"

He was quick to nod: "Ah yes, I enjoy them as well. I believe, around thirty should do." It was the moment where the two of you hoped this wouldn't be too costly: "Of course. As we are unable to provide an example here, we would ensure to send you a photo together with the calculated costs and you can make your final decision then."

At this point, Seonghwa was casually eating the testing slices while you listened. You admired how he pulled it off without the woman even realizing he likely ate the entire thing, unlike most other couples who only cared to try them out.

You had picked up one of the fresh strawberries.

"With fresh ones from the season, it will be amazing." Seonghwa finally finished and licked his lips, leaning back, his long legs crossed: "Absolutely. We are quite content we would love to work with you. Would you be able to provide everything by the time of October?"

You sipped on your coffee, ignoring how Hwa had eaten three of the slices.

"Absolutely! Do you have a favorite for the filling?"

You two glanced at each other, somehow you forgot the most important part: Choosing one. Yet, it proved once more just how perfectly you matched: "The Second."

The woman seemed confused, blinking at the almost empty plate in front of her but she did not comment on it. A few more details were discussed before the two of you left half an hour later without paying a single thing.

"Your family's traditional property huh?" you laughed as held each other's hands, swinging your arms a little.

Seonghwa grinned: "Well, you always liked our short breaks there and my uncle now seems adamant to put effort into it after I told him we would love to use the large gardens for the wedding."

You were excited about it, no matter how modern the building would be. All you could think about was to make this man yours, officially and all for once. You never thought of yourself as somebody caring a whole lot about weddings but now, you looked forward to it.

Seonghwa stopped, embracing you as your foreheads leaned against each other.

"This is where I ask the question you will glare at me for," he begins.

"Oh?"

Seonghwa's little pout warned you that his question was about to be silly.

"So we did not talk about the wedding toppers..." Of course, oh you should have thought of it. You couldn't hold back the laugh: "Are you really asking me if we can put those little animal crossing figures on top of our cake?"

Your boyfriend grinned: "Well, they played a crucial part in our engagement."

"How could I forget about that?" you hummed. The two figures received a special place in your new living room. Ah, he was still so silly and you loved him for it.

"Well, guess we are going to save some money there but you will have to explain this excited lady how exactly they fit into our traditional family wedding."

The one you couldn't wait for.

[immediatebreakfast]

It's incredible how this is the first time we meet Mrs. Westenra, and the first thing we see the woman do is confide to Mina how she is going to to die. There is no dancing around the issue, no maybe, just a firm "Yes I am going to die" which is said to someone who is not her daughter.

Someone who already has the stress of caring for the two most important people in her life, Jonathan who she dreads to be probably dead, and Lucy whose sleepwalking is worsening her state, like an illness. Even if the text itself, and Mina don't write it out loud, it's a situation that anyone would find utterly stressful no matter how they look at it. It's worse for Mina since she is a very hands on active character.

So why does Mrs. Westerna thinks is appropiate to tell this to Mina (her daughter's childhood friend), and not Lucy who is her actual daughter? Well the difference seem to be both infatilization, and wrongfully assigned maturity. Lucy gets treated like a child, while Mina gets treated like an adult woman despite being two or three years apart in age.

Poor dear, sweet lady! She confided to me that she has got her death-warrant. She has not told Lucy, and made me promise secrecy

In the eyes of Mrs. Westerna Mina is mature enough to not only guard this secret from Lucy, but also to understand on top of being mentally fine with the implications that this could bring for Lucy. Also, in Mrs. Westerna's eyes Lucy is still a child; she doesn't see a young lady who is taking in the huge responsability of marriage, but a child that is going to have someone else to protect her when she is gone.

Both Mina, and Lucy needed to know at some point that Mrs. Westenra was going to die, but out of the two of them Lucy deserves to know this tragic fact about her mother first. Even if these news make her sleepwalking worse, she still has to know.

I even dare to say that the socio economical difference between Mina, and Lucy make it easier for Mrs. Westenra to choose who to tell. One girl is an orphan working class girl who was forced by her surrounding circumstances to adapt quickly to many living responsabilities, the other girl is a daughter of a noble family with a chronic condition who has adapted her entire personality to please people that surround her social status out of necessity.

[espace--positif]

Mise en place

A Zayne x F!Reader Birthday Fic

Summary: You've planned every part of Zayne's homemade birthday dinner, all the way down to the last detail... but what happens when things start to go wrong?

WC: 2.1K

Content tags: Fluff, Humor, Mild Suggestiveness

All it took was for one tiny thing to go wrong. Then everything began to unravel.

You’d misread the recipe for blanching green beans and subjected them to a fifteen-minute boil, which had rendered them a mushy mess. So you’d tossed them and restarted a new batch, but that meant you were now late on the frosting. And if the frosting was late, then you’d either have to accept that the steak would be late too, or attempt to sear it while simultaneously manning a hand mixer, which was tragically impossible with the amount of hands you had.

Why the hell did you need to blanch green beans anyway? What was the point? As you scurried from one end of the kitchen to the other, house slippers sliding dangerously on the light dusting of flour on your floor, you chastised yourself for choosing the wrong moment to learn how to cook dishes that were, frankly, beyond your measure.

You’d always been a decent enough cook to get by, but you absolutely had to outdo yourself this time. It was Zayne’s birthday, after all. You had to make it more than just good enough. No, you had to make it perfect for him.

Of course, he had no clue you were planning all of this. If he knew, he surely would have denied you the pleasure of throwing him an intimate surprise birthday party; ever since you’d pulled that stint with the help of Dr. Greyson and Yvonne two birthdays ago, he’d become privy to your schemes every year. So instead, you’d cleared your schedule and invited him over to your apartment under the guise of needing help with something. You remained vague, worried that he’d see through any lie you tried to craft. He always did; he knew you too well. Zayne had agreed to come over after his shift, curiosity palpable through his voice on the phone.

You peered at the oven clock and briefly checked on the sizzling steak within. It was looking juicy and almost ready, so at least something was going well. Then you got to work pouring copious amounts of crushed garlic into your compound butter mixture. There was no such thing as too much garlic, so at least you wouldn’t mess that up. You let out a forceful sigh in an attempt to recenter yourself. There was no need to panic, you still had fifteen minutes of error margin, so as long as you could get everything back on track, it would all be ready at the same time as you’d so meticulously planned. You haphazardly tossed the compound butter mixture into the fridge to cool, then returned your attention to the would-be frosting, currently a pile of sugar sitting in the mixing bowl.

A knock at the door froze you in your tracks. No, it couldn’t be. He was entirely too early.

You ran to the door with urgency, desperately hoping it was your neighbor, or a delivery, anything but this. Your heart sank when you saw Zayne staring right back at you through the peephole. You opened the door, coating it with the leftover butter on your hand, and put on your best “this is fine” smile as you greeted him.

“Hi! You’re thirty minutes early!” you couldn’t help but add.

“Your request sounded urgent on the phone,” Zayne replied as he walked in, “and I didn’t have much work left to do, so I came straight here.”

His hazel eyes intently scanned you up and down as soon as he walked in, and you wondered if you’d already been made. Zayne had always been too observant for his own good. And yours.

“You look beautiful,” he finally said, voice soft and low. Your cheeks turned red. Amidst the culinary chaos, you’d almost forgotten that you’d had the good idea of putting on your dress, and getting your hair and makeup ready early in the afternoon so that you wouldn’t need to worry about it later.

“Thank you,” you replied softly, a warm smile lighting up your features, before your very important mission – completion of the birthday dinner – returned to the forefront of your mind.

After giving you another brief once-over, Zayne began discarding his shoes and briefcase at the entrance of your abode. You took advantage of the moment to scurry back to the kitchen, endeavoring to cover up your sins. Mixing bowls, measuring cups, seasonings and containers lay astray on your counters; your meticulous organizational system had clearly evaporated along with the failed green bean water.

“You can wait for me in the living room,” you called out absently as you shoved unneeded pots and pans into the dishwasher. “Or anywhere but here. Please don’t come here,” you added under your breath.

But of course, that’s exactly what he did. The hiss of steam that escaped from the pot housing the green beans masked his footsteps, so it wasn’t until after you’d hastily taken them off the stove and whipped around that you saw him. He threw his hands up as if to say ‘careful’, and you realized you were brandishing near-boiling bean water at him.

“Is this what you needed help with?” he asked while gesturing towards the mess that was your kitchen.

You turned around, trying to mask the look of mortification on your face.

“Nope,” you replied as you tossed the green beans into the ice bath you’d luckily prepared beforehand, though it was more of a cold water bath by this point. “You know me, I’m just cooking. For fun. I like to cook.”

You winced; so much for sounding inconspicuous.

You could hear the skepticism in Zayne’s voice as he asked, “What are you making? This looks like… a lot.”

You turned to face him after the green beans were secured. There was no point in lying about the dish you were preparing; he could clearly see all your ingredients laid out, and you’d put a lot of effort into choosing something you knew he would enjoy very much, so you were actually proud of your selection. Hopefully, the execution would end up as perfect as you’d envisioned.

“Reverse-seared steak with compound butter and green beans.”

Zayne looked genuinely impressed, brows rising in a fascinated expression. You beamed – your mission was partially accomplished as he clearly hadn’t seen this coming – but your moment of triumph was brief as the realization that you’d forgotten something very important crashed down on you.

The steak!

Your timer had either not gone off, or you’d forgotten to set it, or the universe desperately wanted you to fail today. Your culinary adventure turned into a rescue mission in an instant, and your crisis response took over. After all, a true hunter would never leave a perfectly good steak to burn in her oven, let alone a birthday steak.

Zayne watched in pure horror as you tossed the bean-water pot into the skin with a loud crash, ripped two flimsy paper towels from the rack, yanked the oven door open, and grasped the edges of the scorching hot sheet pan that held the steak, hoisting it to safety on the one empty area on the countertop with pinpoint precision.

You didn’t register the nerves in your hands crying out until after you’d made sure the steak had been successfully rescued and was safe. In an instant, Zayne was by your side. He grasped your hands in his and practically dragged you to the sink, running cold water onto them.

You sheepishly looked up at him, your faces only inches apart as he stood right behind you, and he looked back with a look that screamed ‘why would you do that?’. It was 70% worry, 10% shock, and 20% disappointment, if you had to estimate.

“Why would you do that?” he asked with genuine concern, brows sternly knitted together.

“It’s wagyu…” you offered, but your poor excuse was instantly shut down by his intense glare.

Wrong answer. You turned your attention back to the stream of water in slight shame.

Zayne sighed, his breath brushing the back of your neck. Then he shut the water off, gently turned you around so you faced him, and began to inspect your hands thoroughly. Warmth enveloped your hands as he held them, and it was a welcoming feeling given how they’d just been subjected to the two extremes of scorching heat and ice-cold running water.

The focused look on his face as he completed his meticulous inspection reminded you why you were doing this in the first place. The man simply didn’t have an off button. Even less so on the one day when he should enjoy himself, and your shenanigans were partly to blame for that.

“Good. It doesn’t look like you were burned. But why on earth–”

“Because,” you replied too fast. “The steak was gonna end up well-done. And everyone knows well-done is a euphemism for burnt.”

“If you called me here to help you cook, just say so,” Zayne said, genuine confusion lacing his voice. You were known to sometimes be cryptic and less than forthcoming with your requests, but this wouldn’t have been the first time he’d helped you devise a new dish or figure out a complex recipe. “Here, I’ll help you finish the dish up so we can tidy this mess and go sit down.”

“No, you can’t help,” you protested, eyes fixated on a particularly prominent patch of flour on the kitchen tile.

“Why?” His tone was soft and inquisitive as he interlaced his fingers with yours, and that was all it took for you to fold and confess your master plan.

“Because it’s your birthday dinner,” you mumbled.

Zayne froze, and you looked up at him when he didn’t respond. You could practically see the gears turning in that beautiful head of his.

“Don’t tell me you forgot…?” you said, tilting your head.

“I suppose I might have forgotten,” Zayne replied earnestly. “I’ve been busy, and… it’s two days from now, not today, and besides–”

“You don’t like big celebrations, I know. That’s why I wanted to do this. It’s not a celebration per se, it’s more like… me treating you to a really nice dinner that happens to be followed by cake as dessert.”

Zayne’s pensive expression softened into a warm smile. His hazel eyes remained fixed on yours, betraying nothing of the way he’d almost melted at the thought of you caring so much.

He detached his fingers from yours and pulled you by the waist so you were flush against each other.

“As delicious as that sounds, you should know I don’t need a fancy dinner on my birthday,” he said softly as his hand gently traced circles in the small of your back. “Simply spending my time with you, being close to you like this… That’s enough for me, ok?”

“I know, I know,” you pouted, resting your head on his chest. “But I’m still gonna finish this, because, well, it’s our dinner. And I think it’s gonna be really good, even if it’s not a surprise anymore.”

“Hmm,” he hummed. “I don’t doubt it. After all, you went fancy with it, didn’t you?”

“It’s not my fault a certain someone only eats at Michelin-starred restaurants. I had to outdo myself to meet your impossible standards,” you teased with a grin. “The recipe actually called for carrots, but a certain someone is also a picky eater, so…”

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “You remembered that?”

“Of course I did.”

Now that the urgency of the situation had dissipated and you settled into his comfortable warmth, you started to notice the little things. The woody scent of his cologne tickling your nose. The comfort of his hands on your back. The way you fit perfectly into his arms. The dim dining lights and candles you’d set earlier reflecting dancing shimmers in his eyes. The way his lips parted slightly before meeting yours, as your palms wandered up his chest and past his neck, settling on the back of his head, gently tousling his hair. You felt him relax under your touch, pulling you even closer, and though it wasn’t your birthday, you found yourself making a wish. As you breathed in all of each other, you wished to stay here forever.

But alas, your mission remained unfinished.

“Mm,” you hummed, gently attempting to pull away. “I still have to… finish cooking. The cake frosting isn’t even started.”

You could barely get the words out as Zayne relentlessly locked lips with yours until you were both out of breath. When he finally pulled away, you were met with a warm, content grin. “Then I guess you’ll have to let me help you so we can get on with this wonderful dinner,” he said, voice low and husky. “And don’t worry about the cake. I’ve got a different idea for dessert.”

Note: Hello! I wanted to write something nice and short for our dear Zayne’s birthday, so I hope you enjoy this fluffy story (to cheer us up from the Dawnbreaker lore too). Thank you for reading, and I hope everyone is having fun with the birthday event <3

Thank you to @pmpmyread for proofreading!

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

Have you noted that no one from Azula's family was shown to express love and affection towards her?

That is mostly true. Ozai's affection is clearly conditional (and full on manipulation at worse, like we see in the finale), Ursa canonically favors Zuko to the point that we never see her spending any alone time with Azula like she did with Zuko, and while Iroh gave her a toy like he did to Zuko the toy in question was so OBVIOUSLY wrong for a kid like Azula that it's comical AND show's he did not really know his niece at all.

But there is a constant exception.

Zuko's relationship with Azula is complicated. He clearly admires her strength and power, but he hates how she uses it. She lied to him many times, was seen apparently cheering Ozai on during the Agni Kai, tried to have him imprisoned and even said she'd celebrate being an only child - and then allows him to come home as a hero after Ba Sing Se, even though SHE had the control of the Dai Li and was not yet aware Aang could have survived, meaning she had nothing to gain from it.

And when she lets him know that if he's caught talking to Iroh people might think he is a traitor too, and explicitly says "Believe it or not, I'm actually looking out for you" Zuko drops his innitial suspicion that she wanted something and that's why she was helping him.

On The Beach, he just follows her when she say their old family home is depressing and they shouldn't waste their time there. When she's asking him who she is angry at, she mentions herself and Zuko explicitly says that is not the case.

He doesn't trust her and know she has a tendency to mock or full on lie to him... yet when he wants to know about Fire Lord Sozin he asks her about it, and lets it slide when she mocks him by saying he should make sure the royal painter got his good side - for a character as quick to anger as Zuko, that is a big deal. In Nightmares and Daydreams he also goes to her to find out if he'll be allowed at the war meeting.

More importantly:

1 - Iroh's infamous "She's crazy and needs to go down" line was only said because ZUKO, without anyone putting that idea in his head before, suddenly went "I know what you're going to say. She's my sister and I should be trying to get along with her"

2 - Zuko only jumped into the fight in Ba Sing Se when Azula was being cornered by Aang and Katara.

3 - Zuko looked genuinely shocked and even distressed when she was falling off that cliff. He just sounded so shaken saying "She's... not gonna make it..."

4 - In the writer's own words, Zuko felt no hate but only pity when seeing her breakdown. Katara tried to comfort him because, canonically, even though Zuko and Azula are enemies, this was never what he wanted because he still sees her as family. That's why the Last Agni Kai's music is not the epic you'd expect from a battle, but a tragic one.

5 - Aaron Ehasz, the lead writter for the show, probably the person with the most influence after Bryke, has REPEATEDLY said that he always felt Azula should have gotten a redemption arc, Zuko being an Iroh figure to give her advice and be the only one still by her side when all else was seemingly lost to her forever.

Even the comics (most of which I HATE, mainly because Azula's storyline checks nearly every box for "the mentally ill are inherently evil/less human, so it's fine if literally every other person on the planet mistreats them") didn't fully abandon their complex dynamic.

Zuko is not a perfect sibling, and for a long chunk of the story he seemed too focused on his own issues for Azula to ever be a factor in his mind (aside from the moments in which she was a potential/explict threat), but he DOES still feel a sense of obligation towards her, to the point that it made him do something no one else in their family had done before or since - actually look at Azula. Not the prodigious daughter/perfect weapon, or the problem child that is difficult to handle, or the pontentially deadly enemy that was in the way, but Azula.

His 14-year-old sister that got on his nerves a lot, was far from the kindest person alive, and that he had a ton of issues with, but that he could never fully hate or even be indifferent to. Because she's family. Because he remembers a happier time in which the gap between them didn't seem so big. Because if things had been slightly different he could have been her. Because he went from wanting to be her to seeing just how miserable her life ended up being - especially compared to the one he now had - and feeling deeply sorry for her.

Now if you guys excuse me, I'm gonna go cry in the corner. Have some wholesome/bittersweet fanart if you wanna cry too.

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Teensy Little Crush

kai parker x shy!reader | requested by @luckyvampyr ; the other idea from when i asked for fluffy prompts!

summary: you have a crush on kai you haven't been able to shake for weeks. unfortunately, you're too shy to do anything about it, either. but luckily, elena steps in with a plan, and helps you win over the witch's heart.

tags: fluff, crushes, alcohol, gifts, anxiety, slightly awkward flirting, mystic falls gang (+ reader) friendship, bad planning, cooking, bad-ish childhood memories, teasing, first kisses

word count: 6.6k

a/n: this is the one i've had written for centuries & haven't been able to title. i got antsy and gave it a silly title so that i could post it 😅

You don’t know what it is, something about him just makes you giddy. Ever since the merge, he’s mellowed out immeasurably, and while he still annoys your friends, you’ve found something endearing about him. Kai, of course, is still Kai. He’s reckless, and troublesome, and doesn’t make a lot of considerations before doing things, but he’s getting better about it. He has somewhat of a grip on his emotions now, which is helping as he integrates himself into life in Mystic Falls. 

Initially, Damon assumed he’d go back to Portland after the merge, but something told you that wasn’t a possibility. Everyone knows how the Parkers grew up, either from Liv, Luke, Jo, or Kai himself. The story varies between siblings, but at least two truths in the matter remain the same: their family is tragically dysfunctional, and the coven always comes first. So why would Kai, hated by his family and his coven, return to his hometown?

Damon heaves a big sigh when you remind him of this. 

“So what do you suppose we do about him?” The man ponders out loud.

“Keep an eye on him; see how this goes. But let him figure things out here, I guess,” Elena says. 

“Ugh.”

“What other options do we have?”

You and Bonnie look over to him, and the couples’ gaze quickly follows. Kai drinks alone at the bar, scrolling his phone and bouncing his knee. He’s turned in such a way that you can see one of the dimples in his cheeks everytime he smiles. When he catches the bartender’s attention to show him something, Bonnie groans. You bite your cheek to not smile. 

“We can’t just kill him?”

“Not without killing Jo,” Elena reminds her friend. 

A collective groan now rings throughout the table, but your eyes are still on him. 

“Alright, I’m gonna go to the girls’ room. Drank too much at once.”

Elena’s words register with you as she stands. You then stand up, too, putting your napkin on the table. “I need to go too.”

She smiles, and the two of you leave Damon and Bonnie alone. 

You wash your hands side-by-side, and then Elena starts to fix her makeup in front of the mirror. You take the extra minute to touch up your own. 

“I can tell you have a crush on him,” she says suddenly. 

“What?” A jolt runs down your spine, and you poke your eye with your mascara brush. “Ow!”

She has the nerve to laugh. “You okay?”

“Not funny!”

“Case in point - that reaction.”

“I do not have a crush on him.”

“Y/N.”

“I don’t!”

“You’ve been watching him all night. I heard your heart rate calm when I said to let him stay here, and it sped up when Bonnie suggested to kill him. Not to mention, I can see the way you bite your cheeks to not smile at him. And don’t think I didn’t catch the glossy, lovesick look in your eyes yesterday when he winked at you from across the grill. Your heart sped up then, too.”

You can only blink at the slew of evidence stacked against you. The fact she noticed all these things and compiled a list of them takes you aback. 

“I see all, Y/N,” she jokes playfully. 

“Fine. I might have a minor crush on him.”

“It is not minor.”

“Might have a Corgi-sized crush on him.”

“I see more like a Great Dane sized crush, but okay.”

Your eyes widen. “Elena!”

She only laughs. “To be honest, I’m kind of offended that you don’t think I can read you. We’ve been friends for how many years…?” She starts counting on her fingers. 

“Okay, point made, you can read me! What are you gonna do about it?” Your tone is much more concerned than challenging. 

“What?”

“My, y’know,” you lower your voice, “crush. What are you gonna do? Tell Damon? Bonnie? Hell, Kai?”

“Of course not, that’s between us. But I think you should tell him.”

“Who?”

“Kai.”

“Oh absolutely not.”

“Why not? Because he’s a sociopath, or because you can’t approach him without blushing?”

“Elena!”

“Which is it?!”

“I don’t know! Both, I guess. Mostly the latter.”

“Well you’ve said it yourself a hundred times, he’s getting better with his emotions. Understanding them more. You could have a chance.”

“You don’t sound so certain.”

“I am! It happened with Damon.” Your eyes narrow, and she continues. “Damon was borderline sociopathic only a couple years ago, remember? When they first arrived in town, and I was with Stefan, and he wreaked absolute havoc everywhere he went. But I still developed a crush on him, and he fell for me, and I then fell completely for him, and look at us now. If you want him, the least you can do is talk to him.”

The reminder gives you hope. Maybe Kai could follow the same path Damon did. Maybe you could have something with him. Elena’s apparent support of it helps. Still…

“‘Lena, I can’t go up to him and start a conversation, or tell him that, I’m not as confident as you.”

“Then just start by talking about other things. Or start really simple and wink at him from across the bar like he does at you. Or, here’s an idea, get his attention in little, somewhat anonymous ways. Give him little gifts, or notes, or something like that. That, or Pavolv him with offering candy, and then whenever he sees you, he associates you with something sweet.”

“That sounds like manipulation, ‘Lena. I can’t do that. And I don’t know how he’d take it, either.”

“Don’t think of it that way, think of it that you want his attention, but don’t know how to get it straightforward, so you find it with other ways. Trust me, he won’t be offended. He’ll probably be elated that someone’s giving him little things. He’ll probably think it’s cute, too, that a shy girl such as yourself can’t look at him without blushing but is secretly, deeply craving something with him.”

“Oh my god, Elena.”

“Oh, stop being shy about it! If there’s anyone in this town who would enjoy the game in corrupting your shy, innocent ways, it’s Kai.”

“I’m not innocent, I’m just shy.”

“And you can show him that once you get his attention.”

“But what if he doesn’t like me anymore after finding that out?”

“How could he not like you? You’re sweet and kind, but I know you have that badass side to you, too. He’ll see it and love it the minute you show it.” She applies more red lipstick, then smacks her lips together. “And don’t forget, we’re talking about Kai, who has never been shown any kind of affection in his life. He’ll fold the minute you offer it.”

“Who’s to say he wants it from me?” You see her point, but still have doubts.

“Me,” she answers easily, “who has never seen him wink at anyone but you at the bar. Who has watched his eyes follow you throughout the grill, and watched them get heavy with disappointment when you leave. I’ve even seen him adjust himself in his seat more times than I can count.”

“What does that mean?”

“Remember that time you spilled your drink down your shirt and had to napkin-dry your chest by reaching down your shirt?”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah, well when I did a grill-sweep to make sure no one was watching, he was. And when we made eye contact, his heart rate accelerated faster than a rollercoaster and he had to move his legs around because something tells me those jeans were a little too restricting.”

“Elena!”

“I’m just telling what I saw! But I’m serious, you have a chance with him. Just give it a try.”

“Okay. But if it backfires, it’s on you.”

“I’ll take full responsibility.”

“Good.” 

You both finish up your makeup, then go back to your table. 

“That was a long bathroom break,” Damon says as soon as you arrive.

“We had a little girl talk. Sorry Bon.”

“No worries, we’ve been talking, too,” she replies.

“About?”

Damon answers his girlfriend. “The weasel and his wandering eyes. Watched you guys go to the bathroom, trained them on the door waiting for you to come out.”

“Where is he now?”

“Well we’ve officially entered the hour of the frat boy,” Damon nods to the clock, which reads nine p.m., “and he’s been buried in the sea of them.”

“I say we go before they start a racket,” Bonnie says. You agree. 

“Alright, time to head out. Bon, Y/N, see you tomorrow. Elena, you coming with me?”

“For a little, yeah. But I’ll be back to the dorm by eleven.”

“Okay.”

“Hey, I’m gonna get a shot to go,” you say to the group.

“Ooh, get me one!” Elena asks, putting on her coat. 

You head to the bar and order two bourbon shots.

The bartender rings them up with a smile. “Anything else?”

“Yeah, um… Can I pay for his?” You poke your pinky finger in the direction of Kai. 

“Him? With the phone?” Kai’s the only one with his phone, unlike the ten college boys crowded around him. 

“Yeah.”

“Sure. Anonymously?”

“Just don’t give him my name.”

“Okay. That’ll be $21.30 total. $5.33 for your shots; $15.97 for his. Is that okay?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. Friend of yours?”

“Kinda.” The sudden blush on your cheeks tells him all he needs to know.

He chuckles. “Got it. ��Kay, you’re all set.”

“Thank you.”

“Have a good night.”

“You too.”

You and Elena take your shots before heading out into the cold. You part ways, divided into two at the door, and send her a wink that you’ve already started on her little plan. 

Around the same time you leave, Kai decides he’s had enough of the noise. He waves the bartender over to pay, but furrows his eyebrows at his words.

“You’re all set.”

“What?”

“Someone paid for your drinks.”

“Who?”

“Asked me not to say their name.”

“Point them out.”

“Sorry man, already left.”

Kai looks to the door anyway, hoping to at least catch a glimpse of someone outside it. He sighs, out of luck. 

“Did you recognize who it is?”

“Seen ‘em in here before.”

“You’re not gonna give me anything?”

“Scout’s honor not to tell.”

Kai glares, but then ultimately gets up to leave. He’s determined to find out who it was; what their intentions are by doing such a thing. If he doesn’t, it’ll itch at him all night. 

Three days later, Kai has yet to find out who paid for his drink, but when he enters the grill that night, the bartender offers him a cheesy smile.

“What?”

“First shot’s been paid, what would you like?”

“What? Who?”

“Scout’s honor not to-”

“Okay, okay, don’t say it again.”

“What will it be?”

“Gin,” he replies, then immediately begins to look around the restaurant. 

Nothing’s out of the ordinary in terms of customers. The usual group of geezers and their beers are in one giant booth. A couple early frat boys play pool in the corner. The unofficially-named Mystic Falls gang occupies the table to his left, and Tyler and Matt chat on the other side of the bar. Kai eyes every person individually for hidden answers within their eyes. Granted, most of the people in here would probably dodge his gaze, but he still tries. 

After a while of searching, he grows frustrated. The bartender chuckles, then receives another glare. 

“Still looking?”

“Would be easier if you’d tell me.”

“Maybe they don’t want to be found.”

“Why not?”

The man shrugs. 

Kai only seems to get more agitated at that. His jaw tenses, but instead of pushing, he just orders another shot. 

Meanwhile, you watch the interaction carefully from your table. When Bonnie leaves for the restroom, you poke Elena’s arm. 

“He looks mad.”

Elena spares a glance. “He’s probably just confused,” she whispers.

“What are we talking about?” Damon asks, also whispering. 

You wrinkle your nose, but give Elena a nod to let her tell him. 

“Y/N’s finally acting on her little crush.”

“Eugh,” the man reacts, “on Kai?”

“Mhm.”

“Not just gonna let it die out? Give it a week or two, I promise, it’ll die out.”

“Damon!”

“And why are you encouraging this?” He asks his girlfriend.

“Y/N could be good for him. She’s been curiously crushing on him for weeks, it hasn’t ‘died out’ at all, and maybe she could help him. Besides, it’s not that far off from you and I. Remember when you were the psychotic killer in town?”

Damon rolls his eyes. “But this is Kai. He’s a scrawny little, magic sucking, weasel-looking, chatterbox, and is quite possibly the most annoying person I’ve ever met.”

“That’s rude.”

“It’s true!” He exhales rather loudly. “Does Bonnie know?”

“I haven’t told her. Figured that wouldn’t go down well.”

“Smart. But you should.”

“I will, just not yet.”

“So what have you done? Why’s he look upset?”

Elena answers, “she’s anonymously paid for his drink twice now. We get the feeling Kai knows it’s someone in the bar, but neither of us know how much the bartender has let on.”

“That man is a secret-keeper extraordinaire. Kai knows nothing.”

You nod. “I need to steer off the alcohol path soon, but I don’t have any other ideas. Elena?”

Damon answers instead, “pork rinds. Or any food, really. But pork rinds especially. Went through a whole bag in a day in the prison world.”

Elena makes a face. “Maybe also, like… something he could wear. Or something that would remind him of you.”

“What about a ring? He wears a lot of those. I don’t know what could remind him of me.”

“Does he even know you exist?”

“Damon!”

Before you can react, Bonnie returns. “What’d I miss?”

“Y/N has a crush on Kai,” Damon says, smirking. “She’s trying to get his attention in miniscule ways through tiny little gifts.”

You plant your forehead into the table. A fraction of a second before you do, though, you see Bonnie’s eyes going wide. 

“Y/N!”

“Please don’t.”

“Are you insane?”

“Please talk quieter.”

“Are you insane?” She whispers.

“She might be,” Damon offers.

“Guys, it’s not the worst thing that could happen. And I do think she can help him.”

“Help him? Elena-”

“Kai would be a much easier ally than enemy. Dating Y/N, or at the very least, being friends, would help with that. Plus, she likes him. It’s just like when I liked Damon.”

“And I didn’t support that either,” Bonnie reminds.

“I know, but you’re best friends now.”

“Are you suggesting Kai and I will be besties after a couple weeks? No. We won’t.”

“That’s not what I’m saying at all. Just… Kai will be around regardless if we want him or not. Y/N has had a crush on him for the last two months. Might as well give it a chance.”

“And if it doesn’t work out? If he attacks her?”

“He won’t! Just give it a chance, Bonnie.”

She glares at you, and you look up just a little. 

“I’m not helping your little endeavor to get his attention, but I won’t actively work against it, either. Just… be safe.”

“Of course.”

“Damon, what are your thoughts?”

The man shrugs. “I just wanna see what happens.”

You glare at him, but then raise your head and smile at Elena. “Thanks, guys.”

“Get him a ring, Y/N. He mostly wears silver… which you probably already know.”

You giggle, then drop your attention down to your food to avoid her teasing. 

In the meantime of finding the perfect ring, you give him a bag of his favorite snack, per Damon’s suggestion. He mentioned he ate them a lot, and even said the boy was snacking in their first interaction. 

“He would chew them very loudly, it was so annoying,” he said, “so make sure you give it to him and high tail it out of there.”

“Oh I’m not sticking around at all, I’m ringing the doorbell and running.”

Your shyness earned a chuckle from the man. 

And you do exactly that. Kai has nothing close to a schedule, but you’ve observed him well enough to know he’s usually in his apartment at three in the afternoon. It’s the time in between his morning walk, afternoon lurk, and nighttime drink. When you drop off the bag in your hands - a brown paper bag of pork rinds, with a posy of red gerbera flowers - you have to be quick to find a close hiding spot.

For the record, the flowers were your idea. Deciding which type was a little difficult. You and Elena went back and forth between gerberas and chrysanthemums for ten minutes, liking the deep, red shades in both. After a bit, the florist approached and helped. Ultimately, you liked the symbolization of ‘desire’ behind the gerberas, and Elena was convinced the daisy would make him smile. 

After assembling the gift, you creep towards his door, knowing he’s often on edge and listening intently. You can hear his footsteps inside, along with sounds coming from a phone. For a moment, he laughs, but then his heavy boots retreat again. 

You almost run away, filling your own head with thoughts. This is such a bad idea. This is cheesy. This is pointless.

But then Elena texts, “you better not be talking yourself out of it.”

You take a deep breath, put it on his doorstep, ring the bell, and then hurry to the stairs. Luckily, you have a knack of getting out of situations quietly; it’s a perk of being introverted and shy. 

In the stairwell, you stop to try and hear his reaction. You don’t dare look up, but you do wait just a moment. Even from a distance, you can hear his excited reaction. He sounds like a little kid given Legos. It takes everything in you to not poke your head up and see. 

His boots start to sound down the length of the hall, possibly looking for the person who left it, and you take that as your cue to leave. As tempted as you are to see him in this moment, you’re not quite ready to expose your crush. 

Kai hears movement in the stairwell. He quickens his pace towards it, acknowledging whoever it is seems determined to keep their identity a secret. They should know he’s equally determined to learn who it is, though, and Kai always wins. 

As you hurry around the corner, he catches a glimpse of your hair flying behind you. He bites his lip, fighting a smile. He could recognize your hair any day. 

Instead of calling out, he keeps to himself. He’ll give you this victory today; he’ll let you think he’s still totally clueless, for both your sakes. You clearly aren’t ready to face him, and Kai kinda likes the game you’re playing. Besides, he needs more time to sort out his own feelings. He’s known he’s liked you for weeks, but knowing he might have a chance with you is a game changer. As confusing as it is to recognize he has a crush, he finds himself excited, too. 

For the rest of the day, he takes to the couch with the pork rinds, and lets his mind run wild, thinking about you. 

When you finally find the perfect ring, you really haven’t been looking at all. It catches your eye through a window of a jewelry store, while your best friends are debating on whether or not to go into the neighboring store. The four of you are having a much needed break from the chaos of your local town. It was Caroline’s idea to drive an hour away to somewhere new. 

A foot away, you can hear their musings. 

“I think I might just go in for a minute,” Elena says, “I feel like if I walk away, I’m gonna regret not at least looking at that shirt.”

“I’ll go in if you go in,” Bonnie nods to her, “mostly to get out of this loud entryway.”

“But after, we need to find fries. Like, seriously,” demands Caroline, for the third time. 

“We will! Shirt first.”

“Fine!”

“Caroline,” you wave for her attention, “you know a lot about jewelry.”

“Yes I do,” she agrees, leaving to join your side as the other two go into the store. 

“You know what I’m doing with Kai, right?”

She narrows her eyes and a suggestive smile forms on her lips. “Doing with him?”

“Not like that! I mean-”

“Calm down, I’m teasing. Yes, you’re trying to get his attention because you have a crush.”

“Right. Do you think he’d like this ring? ‘Cause like, I know he wears silver, but I don’t know if he’d care about the little sliver of green in there, but I happen to know a lot about crystals, and know that is malachite, but I also know he hates his name, so I don’t know if that would be well received, or if he’d be upset.”

Caroline lets you ramble. As soon as you’re done, she begins to giggle.

“What?!”

“You’re so overthinking this, it’s adorable!”

“Caroline!”

“I don’t think he’d be upset, I think he’d like it.”

“But do men even care about color in rings? What if he only wears silver ones and doesn’t want any color? Let alone a crystal with his name in it!”

“Omg, Y/N, calm down. You’re stressing yourself out over this. Do you want to go inside and ask to see it? Let’s do that.” She takes your hand and goes immediately to the counter. A moment later, you admire the ring in your hand. “It’s pretty,” Caroline comments.

“Yeah… What if he thinks I’m trying to propose or something?”

Before the girl can erupt in more laughter, the salesperson replies, “this isn’t an engagement ring, actually. Are you looking for those?”

“Oh no, not at all!”

“My friend here has a crush on a boy who wears similar looking rings-”

“Caroline!”

“-and she wants to get him one instead of just telling him she likes him.”

“Ah,” the woman smiles. 

“And she particularly likes the green on this one.”

“Well this is actually a crystal known as malachite.”

You nod, “his name is Malachai.”

“That’s fitting!”

“You should get it,” Caroline nudges your shoulder. 

“This is one of our less expensive rings, but that doesn’t mean the quality isn’t as good as others. The malachite is ethically sourced from Australia, and the ring itself is made here in the US,” she starts her spiel. 

“Okay, I’ll get it.”

“Perfect. Size?”

“Uhhh…”

“Average size for men is 10.”

“He’s six foot,” you provide.

“We’ll do a 10. It’ll be easy to size if he needs to.”

“Okay.”

She goes to the back to pack it up for you, and meanwhile, Caroline snickers.

“What?”

“You’re adorable.”

“Shut up.”

“Y’know, this is probably going to be the most expensive thing he owns.”

“It’s not even that much, Care.”

“Still… probably stole his other rings somewhere.”

You’d be upset at the accusation if it wasn’t most likely true. You whisper, “probably stole them off someone after killing them.”

She giggles. “And yet here you are, crushing on him.”

“Can’t help it. And you’re one to talk,” you refer to Klaus.

“This isn’t about me!”

“He wears rings, too. He might like that one over there.”

“Shush!”

The woman comes back and you both hush. “Here you go. That’ll be $43.50.”

You swipe your card. “Don’t tell Bonnie.”

Caroline snorts. 

“She already thinks I’m insane for crushing on him.”

“This is quite the gift for a crush,” the woman mentions.

“Oh crush is a light term. Y/N won’t admit it, but she’s totally in love with him.”

“Care!”

“He likes her, too. But he’s just as shy about it as she is.”

“Stop talking,” you say through gritted teeth, face hot with blush.

“Well I wish you the best of luck.”

“Thank you. Have a good day.” 

“You girls do too.”

Bonnie finds out immediately by way of pressing why you took so long in a jewelry store. Incidentally, she then becomes part of your plan in getting it to him. 

The four of you decide you’re going to “run into him” by accident, where you’ll then present it as something you just “came across” in passing. It’s a horrible plan, but it’s the only one you have. And, it’s not entirely untrue, which will minimize the amount of stuttering you’d have while giving it to him.

At seven, Damon texts Elena that Kai had just sat down at the bar. He then calls her and loudly invites the four of them to dinner. Minutes later, you join the smirking vampire at his table.

“Nice shit plan you guys have.”

“Shh!” Caroline scolds, “it kinda needs to be shit if these two are ever going to actually talk to each other.”

Damon gets the point immediately. You’re too anxious to register Caroline’s words. 

“Okay,” Elena turns to you, “I need a shot. Y/N, can you order a round?”

“Sure.”

“Don’t stutter!” Elena smacks her boyfriend. “Kidding,” he tells you. 

You roll your eyes. As you near the bar, you take a couple deep breaths. Your friends watching this whole thing is certainly not helping your anxiety, but it’s now or never to act on this plan. 

“Y/N,” the bartender nods as you slide up to the counter. You take the seat beside Kai, but don’t look at him yet. “What can I get you?”

“Five shots of bourbon, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Kai bounces his knee nervously as he thinks of what to say to you. After a second, he blurts out, “hi.”

You face him. “Hi.”

“You here with someone or are all those shots for you?”

You laugh. “Nah, I’m here with all those,” you gesture to your friends.

Kai follows your hand. “Ah.”

“Hey, um…” three of your shots are poured. “I know you wear rings, and I saw this one the other day, and it looked like something you’d wear, maybe, I don’t know. But um,” you produce it from your pocket, “I got it for you anyway.”

The way his eyes light up warms your heart. He takes it gently and admires it.

“The green is malachite,” you say quickly, “I didn’t know if you’d like it, because I know you don’t like your name all that much, but still thought it was kinda cool.”

“It is cool,” he confirms, “I love it.” He slips it onto his right, middle finger, then smiles up at you. “And I like the malachite. Thank you, Y/N.”

“Your shots, Y/N,” the bartender hands you the five on a small plate.

“Thanks.” You turn back to Kai. “And, um, you’re welcome.” For a moment, you sit in silence, wishing you had the courage to confess, but you don’t. “I’m gonna go bring these to them.”

“Okay.”

You climb off the barstool, but of course stumble over one of the legs on your way down. Kai’s hands reach out to stabilize you. One grabs your shoulder; one’s under your arm, dangerously close to grazing your breast.

As soon as you’re stable, he pulls his hands away. “Sorry.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t forget your shots.”

You smile, give him one more awkward “thanks”, then grab your shots and return to your table. 

“Smooth,” Elena says immediately.

“Shut up.”

It’s been three days since you gave him the ring. You haven’t gone to the grill, nor seen him otherwise, partly in an attempt to avoid him. The ring was the first time you actually went up and talked to him, instead of indirectly giving him gifts or slipping in a hello during group conversations. And then, of course, at the end of your interaction, you managed to embarrass yourself. Kai was nice about it, which says a lot because he has little patience with most people, but you’re still embarrassed nonetheless. 

So the next time you run into Kai, you’re not expecting it at all.

You’re in the kitchen of the boarding house with Elena, when one minute you look up, and he’s standing right across the counter from you. 

“Well hello,” he greets, dimpled-smile wide. 

Elena pops up from the floor, a cooking skillet in her hand that she just dug out from the lower cabinet. “Hello,” she greets questioningly.

“Hi,” you finally say. Short and sweet.

“What brings you here?” She nods to him.

“Bored. Wondering what’s going on in the big, giant mansion.”

“Just us cooking.”

“Ooh, fun. Y’know, I happen to be a pretty good cook.”

“Really? Prove it.”

You glance at Elena, silently cursing her for inviting him even closer to you. She smiles. 

“Really?”

She nods at him. 

“What were you making?”

“Grilled cheese and tomato soup.”

“Ah. I used to make that for my siblings’ lunch. There’s a spice you’ve got to add in the soup that you wouldn’t think about, but it makes all the difference.”

“Impress us. We’ll make the sandwiches.”

Kai starts on the stove, and all you can do is stare. His back is turned to you, but everytime he reaches, you get a glimpse of his hands. The veins on the back compliment his long fingers. Two rings adorn his left; one is on his right - yours. Your breath hitches in your throat at the sight. He turns around suddenly. “Where’s your spice rack?”

Elena points to the pantry. “On the door.”

“Thanks.”

“I remember you saying you could cook when you kidnapped me. The memory’s starting to return.”

“Awh, I did say that, didn’t I?” He smiles. “Sorry about that, by the way.”

“Yeah… who taught you how?”

“My father, surprisingly.” As he moves back to the stove, Elena nods at you to retrieve the bread, butter, and cheese. You do, as she turns on the fire. “Taught me how to measure with my eye. Taught me what spices do best with what dishes. He was more of the cook than my mother.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, she was busy wrangling six kids.”

“Were your siblings all close in age?” You ask, hoisting yourself on the counter. The more he talks, the more your confidence grows, even if just a little at a time.

He looks up at you before tending back to his soup. “When Liv and Luke were toddlers, the oldest aside from Jo and I was thirteen. Pretty close.”

You nod.

“Interesting to me that your dad did most of the cooking,” Elena says, “usually men make their wives do all the work, especially in the time you grew up.”

The boy smiles at her subtle prod at him being way older than he looks. The reminder makes you gulp and shift your legs. 

“Yeah, well, he loved her. He would’ve done anything for her. They both did the chores around the house. Jo and I, too, if I was allowed. I mostly cooked, though. They put up a baby gate so the toddlers couldn’t crawl into the kitchen when I was in there; they trusted me that little.”

“Was that for a reason?”

“I siphoned them more when I was younger, sure. By the time I was sixteen-ish, I had mostly learned my lesson not to do that anymore. As a kid, though, it was hard to resist. Sometimes I’d still steal from my oldest younger brother when he’d piss me off. He wouldn’t tell because he knew he deserved it.” When Elena gives him a quizzical look, he explains. “Early nineties, we had a computer, and Joey was obsessed with this wizard game that my mother hated. She thought it was too violent. So he’d wake up really early in the morning to go play it and would always wake me up. He’d let me siphon so I wouldn’t tell on him.” Kai winks. “Sometimes, too, we’d roughhouse when we weren’t allowed. He would always start it. He’d come into my room and throw something at me, or would slap me for no reason. Or, would just stand in the doorway and stare. If I caught the upperhand, we’d wrestle on the floor until he apologized. Then he’d let me siphon so I wouldn’t tell mom that he went in my room, because he wasn’t allowed to do that.”

You both nod, somewhat understanding. Sibling stuff. It’s familiar, siblings coming into your room just to piss you off, and then bribing them not to tattle. Kai just happened to use his lack of magic as his bribe; desperate to have something he was born without, despite all his siblings having unlimited access. You couldn’t blame him, really, especially with his brother teasing him as much as he seemed to have. 

Kai turns off the stove as his soup begins to bubble. He looks up at you again, then chuckles. “You look cute up there.”

Immediately, you blush hard. You tuck your knees up, resting them on the edge of the cabinet door below you. “Thank you.” It comes out in a whisper, and he replies with a wink. 

“Bowls?”

Elena points to the cabinet beside you. 

“Ah, great. Watch your head,” he mutters, opening the door. You duck a little as he reaches into it. His shirt rides up slightly, skin rubbing into the counter’s edge. 

“Do you need help?” You ask, holding your hands out to grab a bowl.

“Yeah, thanks.” He hands you one after another, then shuts the door. Elena turns off the stove, then nods at him for plates. “Which one?”

“The one she’s blocking.”

“Ah.” You start to get down, but Kai insists, “no, I can work around you.” Your breath hitches in your throat as you duck and shift to the left. Within seconds, his body is centimeters from touching yours. The softness of his gray shirt brushes against your exposed knee. “Hold,” he hands you a plate. You take it and set it down, then grab the other two from him. “Thanks.”

“Mhm.”

As you recover, he starts to organize the dishes. Elena goes to the fridge for drinks, but then clicks her tongue. “Gotta go to the basement fridge. Out of coke in this one.” She winks. She’s gone before you can say a word. 

Kai finishes his task, then comes back to your side. He puts a hand on your knee, his right one, and then offers a smile. 

“I like my ring. Thank you for it.”

You force a smile as you try to calm your racing heart. “You’re welcome.”

“And the pork rinds, I enjoyed those.”

“I didn’t do that.”

He chuckles. “The shots, too. Plus the pretty little daisy.”

“I didn’t do that, either.”

“Oh come on, princess. Admit it.” You tense up at the nickname and he can see it. “You can’t hide from me anymore.” He hooks a finger under your chin, but you refuse eye contact. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Y/N…”

“I don’t even know where to buy pork rinds.”

“You’re so cute when you’re trying to lie to me.” You blush even more at that and he smiles. “Y’know, the shade of those daisies reminds me of the blush on your cheeks.” He licks his lips. “You can’t deny it, just admit it.”

“Kai, I can’t.”

“Can’t what? What’s wrong?”

“What do you even want me to admit?”

He laughs, as if the question is crazy. “Admit that you did it. Gave me cute little gifts and paid my ever-growing bar tabs.”

You can’t help but smile a little. “Fine. I did. Happy?”

Apparently not. “Why?”

“What do you mean, ‘why’?”

“Why’d you do it?”

“I thought you just wanted to know if I did it.”

“I did, and know I want to know why.”

“Kai-” you start, whining. He’s still holding your chin and it’s getting harder to not look at him. 

“I like the way my name sounds on your lips, cutie,” he whispers. “Why don’t you just admit it and I can put something else on your lips?”

You finally look at him, eyes wider than a mouse’s. 

“Awwh, there you are. Hi.” You stare, speechless. “Can I ask you something?” You only nod. “Is it safe to assume you have a little crush on me? Is that the reason for all this?”

You shake your head ‘no’.

“No? Really? Find that hard to believe.”

“Kai-”

“Princess, this’ll be so much easier when you just admit it.” He cocks his head. “What if I told you I have a little bit of a crush on you too, hm? Would that affect you at all?”

“You do?”

“Mhm.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re sweet, and shy, and just so cute. I mean, look at you. Perched on this countertop, and I could so easily grab you and hold you in my arms.” He smiles. “I’ve seen you moving around out of the corner of my eye. I know there’s a reason you’ve given me all these little gifts. Like this ring,” he shows it to you, “only you would care enough to do that. Not to mention the crystal inside it being part of my name.” You bite your lip in response and he grins. “See, I got you.”

“The food’s getting cold, we need to eat it.” You try to slide off the counter, but he catches your waist. 

“Ah, ah, ah, not yet, little girl. Admit it first.”

“I already did!”

“You know what I mean.”

“Fine!” You give in, “I might have a tiny, little crush on you. And I thought if I give you things, you’d notice me.”

He smiles, satisfied with his win. “There it is! You have a crush on me.” You don’t look at him. “For the record, I already noticed you. And I’ve been watching you since I arrived in this town. Your gifts only told me that you were interested, too.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

“So what now?”

“You could let me kiss you. I bet you taste sweeter than you look.” He runs a finger along your jawbone. 

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

You nod. 

Kai wastes no time pressing his body into your legs and cupping your face in his hands. “You’re so cute,” he mutters. Then, a second later, kisses you softly. Your lips part in pleasure before you start to kiss him back. He takes advantage of this, sucking your lower lip in between his teeth and making his next kiss more passionate. You let your hands rest on his chest, but don’t push him off. A couple seconds later, he breaks it off himself. 

“Even sweeter than I could imagine,” he says cheesily. 

“Really?”

He pinches your cheeks. “Perfect.”

“What’d I miss?” Elena appears in the doorway, three drinks in her hands. 

Kai smirks. “All the fun.”

The girl knows immediately. “Finally?”

“Finally,” Kai confirms.

“Wait- did you two-?” You point back and forth. “Did you-?”

“Promise, I didn’t say a word to him!” Elena swears.

Kai agrees, “not a word between us. You’re just bad at keeping secrets.” He bops you on the nose. 

“You suck.”

“And you’re adorable when you pretend to be mad at me.”

You pout in response, peeling yourself off the counter. Kai kisses your cheek as you pop off, making you blush. 

“Sandwich time?” Elena asks, “I have a story about that ring that you would just love.”

“Oh, I’m definitely going to need to hear this.”

“No! Elena, don’t!”

The three of you take your sandwiches and soup into the dining room, and she tells the story anyway. 

[ash5monster01]

Learning to Love Part 10

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x FemReader!PlusSize

Warnings: 18+, langauge, angst, fluff, mentions of bullying, body image issues, fat shaming, fake relationship, eventual smut, minor enemies to lovers trope.

Summary: It's not uncommon for you to be shamed for your size, it is however uncommon to be told that no one would ever date you because of it. Rafe on the other hand is used to being called a jerk, that is until he is accused of seeing people for only what's on the surface. It's purely coicidental you two meet right after these accusations are thrown your way. So even though you two don't know each other, and probably never would've looked the others way before this, now you're both going to prove a point. It's simple really, prove others wrong and don't fall in love. Easier said than done.

word count: 2.1k

Part 9 ←→ Epilogue

Masterlist

When Rafe had received that text and the realization settled he instantly called you. The tragic thing about that was the phone didn’t even ring before informing him he could no longer contact this number. You had blocked him and he had absolutely no idea as to why. He had just slept with you, had the best night of his life, and was determined to make this thing real. After that night it had to be real. Yet something happened between then and now and he wasn’t entirely sure what. He woke up with you missing and a dead phone. He decided to get some work done and now you no longer wanted to be with him.

Had he taken things too far? Were you drunk and felt like he had taken advantage of you? Maybe you were drunk and hadn’t intended to ever sleep with him and regretted it. Rafe was drunk too, but there was no way in hell he could forget that night after yearning for it for so long. The sounds you made and the way you tasted was burned in his mind and now you just expected him to forget about you? Move on and find the girl of his dreams when he already had her? Yeah right.

So Rafe was now on a mission. Determined to change your mind which is why he drives to the bar and stumbles his way inside. It’s towards the end of the lunch rush but when he spots Mila behind the bar, he instantly perks up and rushes towards her. When she spots him the glare she gives could burn him entirely. So Rafe slows his pace but still moves towards her in search of answers he’s so desperate for.

“She’s not here!” Mila says over the touch too loud music filling the bar. She wiped the counter, not daring to look him in the eye.

“Then where is she Mila?” Rafe fires back and the brunette girl rolls her eyes before dropping the rag and looking up. Her arms cross over her chest in defensive and Rafe feels guilty even though he is still unsure of what he has done.

“I’m not telling you, she wants to be alone” Mila tells him, starting to work on a drink for a customer who has flagged her for another.

“Why Mila? We were fine, I was going to come see her after work. We, we had a good night. Everything was going so well. I don’t know what went wrong!” Rafe argued and as Mila passed the drink to a customer she finally saw the distraught look on his face. All she knew is he had done something wrong. All you had said was you’d explain everything to her later but she knew that look in his eyes. He loved you and was panicking because you cut him off with no explanation. A famous move of yours to avoid confrontation.

“Look Rafe, I know as much as you don’t want to hear it but when Y/N decides something like this it comes with reason. When I get home tonight I’m gonna figure out exactly what you did even if you don’t know it. Until then, give her space. Take the rest of your Sunday and just relax” Rafe could tell she was being sincere. Her eyes held care for the both of them in this moment and as much as Rafe would lose his mind spending the rest of the day wondering what he did wrong, he was going to respect Mila’s wishes.

“Just, promise to text me. Please, she blocked me and I need to know what I did” he pleaded and Mila sighed before grabbing her phone and unlocking it.

“I’ll take your phone number but I can’t promise a text. If she doesn’t want me to contact you I’m going to respect that. She’s my friend first” Mila says with a stern tone and Rafe nods as he grabs her phone and anxiously types his number in. He fights everything in him to not text himself so he’d have her number as well and hands it back across the bar. He wanted to respect you as much as he could.

“I really care for her you know, it was always real” and he knows Mila doesn’t understand what he’s saying but she nods as Rafe turns to leave the bar and somehow survive the rest of the day without you.

It’s late when Mila finally walks through the door to your shared home. Randy was kind enough to drop her off even after he was kind enough to cover your shift. Mila couldn’t thank him enough. She’s forgotten all about it though the minute she finds you curled up on the couch with tears streaming down your cheeks. She knew you were upset, with the way you had cried on the phone, and told her you were going home. So she doesn’t ask any questions while she sits beside you and pulls you into her arms.

“It was fake you know?” you whisper out after a moment, voice raspy with tears.

“What was?” she asks, a hand running through your hair and providing a sense of comfort.

“Me and Rafe, we were fake dating. We made an agreement so it was never real” you whisper to her, your hands coming to brush some tears away which was useless since more came.

“I don’t understand, why would you need to fake date?” she questions and you sigh as you turn and look at her with glossy eyes.

“I just wanted to show the people around me that I was good enough to be someone’s girlfriend and he wanted to prove he dated girls for more than just their looks” the way your voice cracks tells Mila you had carried that burden with you to whole time. Knowing Rafe didn’t find you attractive and was using you to prove a point. Yet maybe that wasn’t entirely true, not after the hundreds of times she’s seen the way he looks at you. Even today when panicking about losing you.

“But, you guys had sex. Why would you sleep with him if you weren’t really together?” and you don’t have to answer with the way your eyes search her own. It’s written all over your face. You fell in love. You can’t say it out loud.

“What happened when you went back there?” she asks after pulling you into a hug and the harsh words you had overheard return to your mind.

“He wasn’t home so I went to his work. A coworker of his was with him, a girl he had previously dated. She was questioning him about me, saying it didn’t make sense. Then she mentioned their sex life in present tense. He had been sleeping with another girl the whole time. The last thing I heard him say was he was never attracted to big girls-“ you take a few heavy breaths, wiping the tears from your eyes before continuing. “We slept together, I thought it was real. That there was a chance we could actually be together and instead I was just another notch on the bedpost. Some one to get him off all while I trusted him”

“Oh my God, Y/N you should have told me it wasn’t real from the start! I could’ve helped you, gotten you out of this before all of this happened” she tells you with sincerity and you shake your head. Sleeping with someone was the test of ultimate trust for you and Rafe had broken that. The sad part was, it didn’t change how you felt. You still loved him even when you knew you shouldn’t.

“It’s okay Mila, I don’t regret it. Not entirely. I got to feel exactly what it was like to be loved for who I am even if it was fake. At least it felt real” and Rafe’s words ring through Mila’s head. Quickly the realization dawns on her. It was always real. You had to of misunderstood, missed some context to the conversation. Rafe said himself that it was real for him too.

“You know you deserve to be loved just the way you are? It doesn’t have to be fake” Mila tells you and as much as you want the words to be true they’re not. Yet you do what you’ve always become accustomed to when someone says this.

“Thanks Mila” and you hug her because the sentiment is cherished but after a long time of never being accepted for who you are, even the words from the people closest to you can become meaningless. After all how can you believe her when what she just said had never become true?

“Want me to stay up, we can watch a movie and make ice cream sundaes!” she offers and even though you know she’ll do it you can see the exhaustion on her face. You knew better than anyone exactly what it was like to work in that bar. So you give her a soft shake of your head.

“Don’t worry about it, I kind of want to be alone. Get some sleep” you tell her and she pouts before nodding, standing, and stretching her arms.

“If you need me, you know where to find me” she says before leaning and kissing your head. “I love you Y/N”

“I love you too Mila” you returns and she smiles before shuffling down the hallway where she more than likely would fall asleep before she could even change out of her work clothes.

Now left alone in the dark you click on the TV, surfing channels in hopes to find a romcom with a happy ending or even a sad one. You weren’t entirely sure what you wanted at the moment. That is until your phone vibrates to life, the screen illuminating your face. You can’t help but be hopeful it’s Rafe but how could it be when you had spent an afternoon blocking him on everything you had, tears blurring your vision, and making it hard to see the screen. Instead it’s an unknown number, one you had forgotten about.

unknown number

You debate even texting back, knowing you’ve been sad all day but isn’t this was you and Rafe had agreed upon. Seeing others and finding the one. You and him were officially done and never real so why should it matter if you pursue Tanner right away. You deserved to be happy after all, even if it would take a while to stop loving Rafe. So you respond to the text anyway.

It’s flirty, sure, but what did you have to lose?

Tanner

And you find yourself giggling at your phone, feeling giddy for the first time since Rafe and the first time for real in a while. Your heart may be broken but at least you were confident that you could move on. Not all hope was lost and wasn’t that comfort enough? You had been strong this whole time, lived a whole life yearning for the kind of love you deserved, and at least there was still time. It would just have to do for now.

Mila hadn’t gone right to bed though, she knew what she had to do. Yes she was upset with Rafe but she was fully confident most of this was misunderstanding. Maybe it was all fake but Mila had watched you two, seen the way you looked at each other and heard the way you laughed. You trusted him and he trusted you, it was fake but how much could you truly pretend in a relationship like that? So even though she hadn’t promised anything she pulled her phone out anyway.

She didn’t need to say who she was. She knew Rafe would know when he received that text into the late hours of the night. What she hadn’t expected was his immediate response back.

Rafe

And maybe Mila didn’t know Rafe as well as you but reading this text she knew it to be true. It’s possible Rafe had broken many promises in a lifetime but this is one she knew he’d keep.

Taglist: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @fishingirl12 @houseofperfecttaste @abbybarnesstuff @carma-fanficaddict @jjmaybankisbae @exhaustedbutelated @diagnosedpsychosis @daivny @drewstarkeygf @vinniehackersbaee @emsgoodthinkin @apollo3475 @https-urwife @willowalexissss @kisstaya @hcneyedsstuff @lexiereblogs @drewsuncrustables @mveggieburger @marvel4life3000 @bibliophilewednesday @humungouspatrolwolf @ijustwanttoreadlols @jaijustreads @sleepjam @dilvcv @aaronhotchswife @sunshine1218 @lavenderhazeq @theultimatefrenchfangirl @kravitzwhore @chalahyung01 @jenniferpendragon @kitty-marie725 @dlwritings @writevanna @alenerz @h34rtsformilli

Comment if you want to be added to the taglist :))

[bobbin-buckley]

That Girl Is Mine

Tara Carpenter x Saxophoneplayer!Fem!Reader

Summary: You play saxophone with a band called “Sweaters In Fall”, you and another girl plus three other guys are in it. You’re girlfriend Tara comes to see your biggest concert at the Radio City Music Hall (NYC), after the concert things do seem to work with you in the band

Warnings: Fluff, Cat-Calling, Little bit of blood, Pervert, sexual mentions, lots of cursing, some punching

Y/F/B: Your Favorite Band

Y/N/N: Your Nickname

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

It’s the night before you and your bands performance at the Radio Music Hall.

You were very nervous, it was unusual for you to be this nervous. It wasn’t because of the people but it was because your girlfriend was coming to watch with her friends and her older sister Sam.

Not that you were scared of Tara being there, you were excited that the dark brunette and her friends were coming, it was just Sam.

Sam never really liked you, she had her suspicions. You respected that since after what they’ve gone through was tragic. This special night wasn’t just about winning an award to you but it meant to prove yourself worthy for Tara, you wanted Sam to see your talent and maybe she’ll like you. Maybe….

“Yo Y/n! What’s got ya all worked up?” Your bandmate Damien asked, he was a nice guy, he was a tall lengthy black man about in his middle twenties. “You’re not all pumped up like you normally are during rehearsal.”

“Just nervous I guess…” “Nonsense! You’re never nervous!” Kayleen hyped. Kayleen was your best friend, you guys were pretty close she was the reason why you joined the band. Damien and the other two guys were a little eh about another Saxophone player joining, but the raven hair just glared at them and had you join. You were the high voice of the group, the great Alto Sax player.

“Yeah, Y/N/N, you seem so low right now and you’re the loudest person normally.” Pip spoke, Pip was your 3rd favorite of the group. He was pretty quiet the majority of the time but he indeed was a fantastic Trumpet player. ‘Pip the Pipet’ Damien gave him the nickname, Pip hated it but he’s adjusted to it now since it sticks with him.

You all had nicknames, yours was Sexy Sax (boy you hate it but at this point you don’t care, Tara teases you about it), Kayleen’s was Sax Positive, every time you hear that nickname you can’t help but laugh a little. Damien’s is Damn Keyboard (idk) as he played keyboard in the band. Last but not least Dan…

you hated Dan oh boy, if you were to go ghostface he’d be the reason.

Dan was a creep in your opinion. Nobody else agreed though, he was just very…odd. He was an older man, I’d say in his early 40’s, he does have a lot of experience in jazz and band in general but he seemed off…every time after your solo in one of the songs you’d catch him looking at you with heart eyes, you’d catch him doing it to Kayleen as well. Eugh…you hate him

“Yeah baby stop being so low, your supposed have a high pitched voice in the band. If you know what I mean.” Dan said…flirted?

You wanted to throw up after he said that. Fuck he gives you the jeepers creepers.

“I’m fine guys I swear. It’s just my girlfriend is coming to watch tomorrow and her sister..isn’t quite found of me..” you rambled.

“Sorry to hear that champ. But everything will go great! Just…focus on yourself and not the crowed.” Damien explained, you have him a nod.

“Well, it’s getting late guys we should head home for the night,” everybody nodded in agreement with Pip.

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

It was a quick walk home, you hadn’t lived far from Damien’s house. Which is where you guys rehearsed most days unless the Blackmore’s band director lets you in.

Moonlight On the River by Mac DeMarco was playing in your ears, your saxophone in case swaying in your left hand as you trotted in the perfect white snow on New York’s streets to your way home.

You swore someone was following you, feeling eyes staring at the back of your head. You stopped in your tracks turning around to see no one.

Maybe it’s an animal or my imagination?

You thought

As paranoid as you used to be it’s been higher ever since you heard about the ghostface attacks. Tara always pushed you away when you met, you weren’t sure why until you discovered she was The younger sister of Sam Carpenter.

Eventually you told her you don’t care about some psycho idiot under a ghost mask with a knife.

It wasn’t long after you confessed that you really liked her and started the first date. It’s been a few months since you guys started dating, you both were happy.

You told Tara you’d always be there for her if she wanted to talk about everything or anything else that’s keeping her down. She appreciates you for that, but also doesn’t want to burden you because she knows you have your own issues.

Opening your apartment door, stepping in and feeling the nice warmth greeting you. You flicked on the lights with your free hand after slipping off your shoes and walked to your bedroom.

You sat down your saxophone in the corner of your room as well as your backpack, coat. Walking over to your bed taking the snow covered sweater and sweatpants you were wearing off. (I’m more masc btw so masculine wear)

Putting on a white-T with a sweatshirt over that has Y/F/B on it and throwing on a black pair of sleep pants. That’s when your phone started buzzing in your bag.

You grabbed your bag again and opened it to grab your phone, seeing that your one and only was calling you.

With a smile you pressed the green button without hesitation and pulled the phone to your ear.

“Hey Baby!”

You blushed at her voice and nickname

“Hey Tar, how was your day?”

“Not bad, just- some arguing with Sam. You know, the usual.”

“Sorry to hear that, what was it about? If you done mind me asking.”

“It’s fine love, it was just about me walking alone to school. She needs to grow up sometimes, I mean I do appreciate her safety, it’s just a pain up my ass all the time.”

You understood Tara’s annoyance, your mom was the same. She’d harp on you about being safe even if your taking out the trash, (though you don’t live with her no more)

Sam was always protective, ever since the first Ghostface incident. Sam has prevented Tara from having outside friends (definitely after Quinn and Ethan).

That’s why Sam dislikes you, she’s scared you’ll be the next ghostface. But Tara wants Sam to understand that she’ll fall in love at some point, and she already has. It’s you

You’re the lucky girl

“Yeah I know hun, hey tell you what. Tomorrow night I’ll prove Sam with my magical music talent that I’m worthy!”

Tara chuckled, “sure baby, you are quiet talented my musical girl. I’m excited for tomorrow, by the way, how was practice?”

“Good, Kayleen and the boys are hyped. I think we’re all ready, I’m just a bit nervous…” you said, biting your nails.

“Why nervous Y/N/N? You’re never nervous.”

“That’s what the band said..haha.” You paused with a fake laugh. “I guess it’s me trying to prove how good I am to Sam, and how important you are to me.”

“Honey, even if Sam didn’t care about tomorrow then screw her, cause you shouldn’t care about what Sam thinks. It’s Sam! But I know Sam will get your trust eventually she just has a hard time opening up,” you sigh, “plus I think she’ll love it. Sam really likes music if you didn’t know.”

“I didn’t know actually, but thanks Tar.”

“No problem baby, I gotta go Sam needs my help with dinner. I’ll see you tomorrow night! Love ya!”

Your heart skipped a beat, “love you too, see ya!”

You smiled widely after Tara hung up. You were going to prove your worthy for Tara to Sam.

Sam doesn’t realize how much you love that little feisty girl

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

It’s currently 7:30

Your show starts in thirty minutes

Sitting on an old chair in the back room as Kayleen does a few more touches with your make-up

You weren’t a big fan of wearing make-up, but Kayleen insisted on you wearing some especially for tonight. It wasn’t crazy make-up, just some highlights and eyeliner, nothing punk looking but more casual.

“Cmon Y/N/N you’re our sexy sax you gotta look sexy,” you rolled your eyes. “Even Pip gets a little bit of a make-over!”

“Uh-what?” Pip quipped.

“…Annnnd done!” Kayleen exclaimed, “it’s your turn Pip!”

Pip groaned but gave in

“A-are we all getting make-up?” Damien asked.

“No, Pip just doesn’t get the option because he’s one of our big soloists! But if you want make-up I’d be happy to-”

“Absolutely not,” both Damien and Dan said. The raven shrugged and went back to work

“So Y/N/N? How are you feeling?” Damien asked, as he sat next to you.

“Better, I talked to my girlfriend last night and told about my nerves but she said I’ll be okay and other things.” “Awe, she must be a real sweet one.” You blushed as his comment, Tara was a sweet one even if she’s a little feisty at times.

“We have about ten minutes left.” Dan looked at his watch.

“Shit!!” Kayleen squealed.

You laughed at her antics when she jumped to grab more blush

“We’ve got time girl.”

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

Tara shifted in her seat as she looked around the interior of the Music Hall.

She’s never been inside the music building, she’s only passed in on walks, in a taxi or on the bus.

It was quite beautiful, the lights were pretty, the room was nice and warm and it was just gorgeous in general, it was a very open dome with a lot of people.

Sam didn’t want to spend a lot of money so they chose the middle seats on the balcony. Tara wouldn’t really be able to see you but the tv’s they had were enough to see your gorgeous face.

“God I’m so excited! Thanks again Sam!” Chad smiled bright. Mindy thanked her too.

“Of course,” Sam smiled. “Thanks Sam, seriously, you don’t know how much this means to me and especially Y/N/N.”

The older Carpenter smiled at her little sister.

“Up next we have our Jazz Band “Sweaters In Fall!!!”

When Tara heard your band name she perked up and watched ahead of her as she cheered with the crowed.

You and band walked up stage with your instruments, the keyboard and drums already set for Damien and Dan.

“Let’s meet our lovely band! Up first is Pip the Pippet! Our Trumpeter!” Pip smiled shyly.

“Second we have Sax Positive Kayleen!”

Mindy shook her head, “reminds me of Quinn sadly.” Tara chuckled a bit.

“Third we have Damien that Damn Keyboard!” Everybody laughed and cheered.

“Fourth we have Drummer Dan!”

“He looks like he’s sixty!!” Chad yelled. Tara didn’t like Dan, the stuff you’ve told Tara about him make her sick in the stomach but that feeling faded away once the guy announcing announced your name.

“Last but not Least! Y/N/N the Sexy Sax player!!” (Sorry not sorry)

Tara blushed when you waved a bit to the the crowed. Knowing you were looking for her.

“Let’s get this party started!”

~~~~~~~~~(sorry if it’s cheesy 😭)

You were at the last song of your album. The next song was more of something you wrote yourself. (Not actually 😭 cause that’d be copyright)

Tara cheered with the crowed once the song was finished. You eagerly searched for her in the crowed then spotted her a bit later.

You blew a kiss at her as she did it back.

“Cmon Y/n! We gotta go!” Pip called.

You nodded, taking one last glance in Tara’s direction before following your friends.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“That’s it! That was it my guys!” Damien screamed in victory.

“Eh it was alright-” “What do you mean it was alright Kay? That was our best yet!!” Pip cut off Kayleen.

You smiled bright once you entered the backroom. This was definitely the best performance you’ve had in awhile, and you were proud of that.

It didn’t matter to you if you won something but- it mattered that you did it. All you cared about was Sam liking you.

The band continued to talk about the performance whilst you put up your saxophone.

“Y/n!” You looked up at her voice.

Tara jumped into your arms with a big smile, Sam and her friends no too far behind.

“Hey babe! How’s you guys get in?” You looked over Tara’s shoulder, making sure no guards were about to run in saying they broke in.

“They let us in, I told them I was with you.”

“Now who’s this pretty lady?” Dan asked, he made your stomach curl and in a disgusted way.

“I’m Tara,” she said a little grossed out herself.

“Hey! Y/n, you can officially meet Sam now!” Tara turned to her older sister, motioning Sam to approach.

Sam looked at you with those ‘I don’t trust you eyes’. Sam scared you a bit, but being up close..Jesus you were more scared.

“Nice to meet you Y/n,” your eyes widened. Sam, Sam Carpenter being nice to you? She held out her hand waiting for you to shake it. “I-uh hi- S-Sam.”

Sam pulled her hand away and chuckled, “you don’t need to be afraid of me. Sorry for scaring you a bit, I’m a bit worried meeting new people. As Tara probably already told you.”

You nodded with a small smile. Tara was ecstatic with your first impressions on each other.

“Yo Y/n! You gonna introduce them?” Damien spoke.

“Oh uh- yeah! This is my girlfriend Tara her sister and friends. Guys this is Damien, Kayleen, Pip and-..Dan.” You pointed to the each of them.

There were some waves and hi’s

“Y/n, you didn’t tell me your girlfriend was hella hot.” Dan walked close.

“Excuse me?” Both you, Tara and Sam said.

“You heard me.”

You looked at Dan with hatred. “Back the fuck up.”

“Woah, no need to get all frisky babe.”

“Don’t fucking call her that!” Tara yelled.

You put a hand out in front of Tara, keeping her back.

“Damn, she’s loud too.”

“Shut the fuck up you perverted mother fucker!” You shoved Dan back, but it wasn’t long before he struck your nose with his fist.

You stumbled back, wincing and clutching your nose as it bled. “Y/n..”

“Oh come on Y/n, your worse than your are at pleasing her.”

That’s when Sam lost it as well. Sam punched Dan, you pushing Sam back to finish the job.

You grabbed him by the shoulders and slamming him against the wall. “I swear to fucking god! If you ever say any of those things ever again I’ll break your skull!!!”

“Hmp, I’d like to see you try.”

Damien and Sam both grabbed your arm before you got the chance to swing another punch at him.

“Let me go!!”

“Dan, get the fuck away! Go! You’re out of this fucking band!!” Damien screamed.

“Whatever, I didn’t want to be here anyways, I just wanted to see some ladies.” Dan chuckled.

You snarled. “Get him away from me.”

Damien and Pip nodded before getting Dan out of the room.

“Y/n-” “Let’s just go home.”

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

“How’s it feeling?”

You and Tara were in her bedroom. After tonight’s event, your hand was swollen and bleeding. Sam checked it and no brokenness to it, just some bruises and scratches, plus it’ll sting.

“Like shit.” You huffed, laying back on her bed. Tara already patched you up, it hurt like a bitch too.

“I’m sorry,” “no. I’m sorry, I should’ve just kicked him off the band way before!” You threw your hands up.

“Baby, it’s not your fault. It isn’t your fault he’s some fucked up pervert, but thank you for defending me.” Tara brushed her fingers through your sweaty hair.

“Anytime..” you smile. Tara leaned down to kiss you on the lips, placing her scarred hand on your unharmed cheek.

“I love you.” “Love you too.”

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

This is fuckin cheesy.

Sorry for not uploading this faster than I planned. Weird shit has happened this past week

I need ideas cause my brain hurts and I can’t think of anything rn

[thegoldencontracts]

What's In A Bird: The Topsy-Turvy Ceremony

Many folks say that the freshmen of Night Raven College grow odder and odder by the year. And, of course, in this year, Riddle Rosehearts, Ruggie Bucchi, Azul Ashengrotto, Jade Leech, Floyd Leech, Jamil Viper, Silver, and one transfer student soon to arrive from Royal Sword Academy - Kalim Al Asim - will prove this notion correct for yet another year.

Length: 2.4k words

Notes: A fic of the sophomores in freshman year like I promised, at last! Here's to hoping this doesn't completely flop. Let me know if you'd like to be tagged!

This also serves as a kind of 400 follower special (not really though), I'm very grateful to everyone who's supported my fics, and feel free to send in any requests for this series! Anyways, on with the fic.

It was a known fact among the students and staff of Night Raven College that every single year of freshmen was odder than the last. For the one-hundred years or so that Dire Crowley had been headmage, he had never once been proven wrong.

And it seemed as if the headmage would be proven right once more.

This year's freshmen were all an odd bunch, it seemed. Divus looked over them scrutinizingly.

"Have any of them caught your attention?" Mozus asked. "I for one find the notion that you've deigned to pay attention to the ceremony and ensure no mishaps occur for once much too good to be true."

Divus merely sighed.

"The ceremony's going wrong either way, no need to be so uptight about 'supervision', or whatnot. The pups'll turn out just fine."

Mozus scoffed.

"Even some of our incoming freshmen have more responsibility than you, it seems," he said.

"Like that one redhead?"

It was so odd how - despite red being a common hair color - they immediately knew which boy Divus was referring to. Oh, Dire was so magnanimous for putting up with all these peculiar students!

"All of you, get in line at once, or it shall be Off With Your Head!" said the redhead boy in question. Threatening to- chop people's heads off? How odd.

Dire knew his name; like the kind and attentive headmage he was, he always cared for his students!

Yes - Puzzle Flowershape. Something like that.

"Riddle Rosehearts, no?" Mozus said. Close enough! "He's a rather good student from what I've seen."

Come to think of it, why were so many of the freshmen wearing clunky looking collars? That was a horrible fashion choice, was it not?

Oh, well. Dire would put up with that terrible fashion choice. The things he did for his students!

"Those things around their neck'll really get in the way of their exercise!" Ashton scoffed. "It looks like I'll have to teach these kids the proper way to dress for maximum power!"

"It looks like those kids have no magical aura! The collar's a curse, now isn't that tragic?" Sam said. "I'll be there if those poor kids need any help undoing that curse of theirs."

"I do hope you'll provide the aid for free?"

"No promises!" Sam said, before looking at the students in curiosity.

A few seconds later, Sam pointed to two of the students in the crowd.

"Those two seem smart," he said, pointing first to a hyena beastman, then to a grey-haired boy. By sharp, of course, Sam was referring to business-smart. There was quite a difference between that, and academic prowess. The hyena boy only seemed to possess the second with those wide eyes of his, and the grey-haired boy, hiding behind two identical twins, seemed to possess neither.

Of course, Dire was a kind man. He'd give Sam a chance to explain his reasoning.

"Are you certain?" Dire asked. Sam merely nodded with a chuckle.

"Clever hawks hide their talons, you know," he said. That was true.

And, come to think of it, the boy's behavior still required observing.

"Hey there," said the boy to the Pomefiore Housewarden. "I got you that makeup you wanted."

How exactly had he acquired that brand? Dire vaguely recalled some talk of how difficult it was to acquire. Truly, he was such a good headmage, always listening to his students!

"Thanks," said the Pomefiore Housewarden in turn, handing the hyena boy a massive wad of cash. How- How had the boy already acquired that much money?

"Those wide, shrunken eyes are likely a product of a lack of access to food," Sam said. Come to think of it, the boy was, well, a hyena. Did that not mean he was from the slums? And, considering the ingenuity required to survive in the slums as a mage, well-

"You're quite right!" he said with a laugh. "But what of the other boy?"

Of an average, unremarkable height, and a frail stature, the grey-haired boy had lodged himself between two twins.

"We should be looking at those two!" Ashton said, pointing to the tall, muscular twin boys. "They'd be great for the basketball team with those athletic reflexes of theirs!"

It would be best to observe first before coming to judgments,

"Dude," said one of the twins, practically shoving the phone into the grey-haired boy's face. "Check out this rare pepe."

The grey-haired boy scoffed, pushing the phone away with a scowl.

"The only thing I'll be 'checking out' is the socials of our peers," he said. "And the picture of the dearest headmage looking at cat photos while a student is attempting to get his attention," said the other twin.

How- How had they even seen that? Dire would have to do whatever it took to ensure that photo for the sake of avoiding bad PR- er, avoiding the entirely false notion that he was anything less than a kind-hearted and diligent headmage who would never ignore his students!

"I think you understand what I mean now," Sam said.

"Indeed," said Dire. "To think, he'd so viciously use photoshop to make it seem as if I'd ever do such a thing!"

"You would," Mozus said. "I find myself more concerned with how exactly they attained that picture."

However, before any further discussion could occur, a shriek was heard.

"Ugh!" said one of the twin boys - the droopy-eyed one. "This is boring."

That was never a good sign. 'This is boring' was the last thing said before the ceremony had gone wrong ten years ago, or twenty-three years ago, or thiry-five years ago, or fourty-two years ago, or fifty-two years ago, or during one of those ceremonies over sixty years ago that Dire had forgetten about.

Out of all the phrases said before ceremonies had gone wrong, 'This is boring' was - by far - the most common.

"Hey!" the droopy-eyed boy said, eyes on that one redhead who was surrounded by students in collars. "You look interesting, Goldfishie."

"My name is Riddle Rosehearts, not 'Goldfishie'," said the redheaded boy, Riddle. "And you'd do well to return to your place in the line."

"Nah," said the droopy-eyed boy, flicking his pen and causing a vine to settle itself on the ground. "Hey, this stuff's pretty cool!"

"I will not stand for this insolence! Off With Your Head!"

A collar wrapped itself around the droopy-eyed boy's neck.

"H-Huh?" he said, pulling at it in confusion. Riddle smirked.

"I warned you," he said. So that was what he meant by 'off with your head'. "You've broken the rules, and now you must-"

And then the fire-bolt was hurled.

It was a terrible, terrible thing, catching fire on the conjured vine and spreading further from there, sending students fleeing.

"Holy shit, dude!" the droopy-eyed boy said, eyes sparkling with glee. "You really are interesting, Goldfishie!"

Riddle had been the one to send the fire-bolt? This whole thing was simply growing more and more absurd!

"I didn't send that!" Cried Riddle.

...T-Then who had?

"Dire," Divus said through grit teeth. "Our top priority right now is ensuring no one gets burned. We can figure out which naughty pup did this later."

That was true. There was a bit of panicking, to say the least.

Which was to say that every student was in a frenzy.

"We're all gonna die!"

"I'm too young for this, Lord Hades! Spare me!"

"Take him instead!"

"H-Hey, don't take me, take him!"

"Are you going to put out the fire, or what?" Divus said, tapping his foot impatiently. Dire could somewhat hear him over the sound of screams.

"What have you done, Floyd?" said the grey-haired boy. "From now on we'll all be labelled as delinquents!" "Hey!" The droopy-eyed boy - Floyd - said. "Don't blame me for that thing, Azul!"

Azul just sighed.

"Jade, was this your doing?"

The other twin - Jade - shook his head.

"I do look forward to seeing the face of the man who disrupted the ceremony in such a manner," he said with a laugh.

Those three were odd. But even odder was the raven-haired boy who seemed entirely calm in the midst of the mess, merely putting out the fire gathering around him.

"Hello there," he said without so much as a glance as the hyena-beastman approached him.

"Heeeyyyy there, bud!" The hyena boy said. "You seem- not freaked out."

"My name is Jamil Viper," said the raven-haired boy - Jamil - almost robotically. "Please do not concern yourself with my affairs. I am but a humble se-"

And all of a sudden, Jamil snapped out of his robotic little monologue, looking down at his hands in shock.

"Nevermind," he said, mumbling a smug "I'm free for now" underneath his breath. The hyena boy blinked in confusion.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing," Jamil said. "What's your name?"

"Ruggie," Ruggie answered hastily. "And what's got you so calm? Isn't the school on fire or something? Don't tell me-"

Ruggie flashed a conspiratorial grin.

"Did you start it?" He asked. Jamil shook his head.

"I didn't," he said. "This just isn't all that severe an emergency. We'll put out the fire with ease."

With ease? By himself? Was Jamil not a mere freshman? He knew naught but basic magic, certainly not enough to put out a fire as big as this one!

"Uh, putting it out ourselves?" Ruggie said. "Don't you wanna get like, the headmage or something- Oh, hey there, headmage!" Ruggie shouted in an attempt to be heard through the screams of other students.

Ruggie had finally noticed him, it seemed.

"Hello, esteemed students!" Dire said. "My name is Dire Crowley, headmage of Night Raven College, a-"

"Can you put out the fire?" Ruggie shouted. Why did no one wish to hear about his extremely important information?

"Yes, yes, of course," Dire said. "I will put out the fire."

But he didn't have to. Divus was already there, getting the students attention with the crack of his whip.

"Pups!" he said. "No need to panic. The fire will be put out shortly. Next time any such emergency occurs, I expect you all to follow the procedure constantly taught to you during fire drills instead of flailing around like blind chihuahuas."

A thin sheet of water was summoned upon the floor, Divus flicked his magic-pen. The fire was put out. Phew.

Floyd raised his hand.

"Yes?" Divus asked.

"What's a fire drill?"

"Keep quiet, Floyd," Azul hissed to him in what he likely thought was so quiet no one could hear. However, on top of immense magnanimity and diligence, Dire also had impeccable hearing. One of the many blessings of being a fae, before turning to the Octavinelle housewarden. "I apologize for any inconvenience you've been caused."

He knew he was going to be sorted into Octavinelle, didn't he? Azul was most likely correct about that. However, it would be rather comedic if he was sorted somewhere else.

"You'd do well to apologize to everyone, er- Floyd," said Riddle. "I shall take off the collar if you can prove you've thoroughly repented."

"Uh," Floyd paused, before going completely off-topic. "I think the guppy that's under the chair next to me leg should wake up."

Riddle looked at him incredulously.

"What in the name of the Seven are you blathering on about-" A glance underneath the chair next to Floyd's leg revealed a silver-haired boy, a thin shield of water conjured around him.

Smart.

He'd fallen asleep though.

Ruggie creeped over towards the silver-haired boy, shaking his shoulders awkwardly.

"You good?" Jamil motioned for him to stop.

"He likely has some underlying condition," he said. "I'd wager it's magically induced narcolepsy."

All the oddest freshmen, gathered in one place while the others celebrated the fact that they weren't dead. How- quaint.

A few seconds later, the silver-haired boy's eyes fluttered open, as he took a second to process his surroundings.

"H-Huh?" he said, before realizing what had happened. "E-Er, apologies."

"Please prepare yourself for sorting," Riddle said, voice much less snippy than it ordinarily was. "You've managed to wake up just in time."

"T-Thank you," said the silver-haired boy. The quiet sort, it seemed.

"You really ought to get back in line yourself, dearest Riddle!" said Azul, bearing a saccharine grin.

"The same would go for you, I believe," said Jade with a grin even more sickly sweet. Azul groaned.

"Tell Floyd that."

"Yeah, yeah," Floyd said. "I'm gettin' in line."

Azul glared at him. "And I'm sorry," he said, despite the fact that he clearly didn't want to. Azul looked at Riddle expectantly. Riddle merely sighed.

"I wouldn't call this thorough repenting," he said.

"Please remove the collar from my business partner's neck." Business partners? Was that was kids these days callhed their friends? Dire had clearly fallen behind on trends.

Riddle scoffed.

"Have him apologize to me personally first," he said. Floyd rolled his eyes.

"Stop talking' about me like I'm not here."

"I do believe that collar restricts your magic, dearest brother." And all of a sudden, Floyd had become the most positively contrite person to ever grace Twisted Wonderland.

"I'm so, so sorry," he said through sniffles. "I'll never do it again, honest!"

It was only when Floyd conjured a ukelele that Riddle finally backed down, removing the collar.

"T-That's more than enough!" he said. "I do hope you've learned from this."

But Floyd wasn't listening.

"Whoo!" he said, all contriteness gone from sight. Floyd was quite the good actor, thought Dire idly.

"Get back in line quickly, pups," said Divus with the crack of a whip. The students scrambled to fall in line.

Well then, at least the chaotic part of the ceremony was over.

--------

A few hours later, the sorting was over. And frankly, Dire was most interested in the positions of seven particular students.

"The Rosehearts boy was placed in Heartslabyul," Mozus said in the break-room, sipping on a cup of tea.

"No one was shocked by that," said Divus. "The sortings were quite obvious. Bucchi in Savannaclaw, Viper in Scarabia, Ashengrotto and Leech in Octavinelle, and Silver in Diasomnia. And that means-" he turned to Dire. Curses. "I won all the bets. Pay up."

His poor wallet was aching, crying out in pain!

"Fine, fine," said Dire, forced to cruelly rip those precious thaumarks from their home in his wallet. "Here you are."

Mozus sighed.

"This school is known as Night Raven College," he said. "I was under the impression that - despite their mischievousness, ravens are smart. Not foolish enough to start fires before the first day."

Dire merely laughed.

"Well, Mozus," he said. "Do recall the old adage 'What's in a name'? The name of the school won't change the intellect of our students!"

"Yes, yes."

"So tell me," he continued.

"What's in a bird?"

[angelsdean]

not 2 be a clown but i really Do in my heart of hearts believe that destiel was supposed to go canon more explicitly with, if not full reciprocation from dean, then at least very obvious subtextual reciprocation. and that’s why everything is so messy in the last two eps. like i think about LAMP and that whole dance sequence and the subtext was THERE. dean’s aborted confession in the trap. dean questioning what’s real and the answer being ‘we are.’ it was all THERE and building. the confession, as much as we love it, was choppy as FUCK. it was badly edited, the shots are all over the place, extreme close-ups jumping to wide shots. the goddamn shove to the wrong wall. not good cinematography. and we know a lot of dean’s reactions were cut. we pretty much figured out the ‘don’t do this cas’ was supposed to come before the ‘i love you.’ we know cas was supposed to be in the last two eps. we Know he was meant to be in the finale. and i have Never bought the “jimmy” explanation for that either. i’m sorry but that does not make sense at all and it’s 100% in my opinion a lie they told to keep fans from being even more enraged abt cas being cut from the finale. like if he was never meant to actually be there then ok fine, sucks but ok. but if cas WAS meant to be there and they CUT HIM ??? RAGE !!!! like it makes no sense to bring back jimmy for the series finale even if they wanted to go the super tragic route like....noah fence to jimmy but who tf is thinking abt jimmy novak in 2020. and esp since cas was supposedly out of the empty and had ‘helped’ rebuild heaven....he’d literally be there !! people lie ok and they lied abt that jimmy ending lmao. esp after misha said there was ‘another ending’ where cas is in the roadhouse with dean and it’s in sam’s pov meaning years after dean died, meaning they’ve been in heaven together a long time at this point. anyways, my third eye is open and i’ve Seen the truth and i Know the real ending (which still would not have been great at all bc they’d be DEAD) involved dean and cas together at the roadhouse (i saw you funko pops) being no-so-subtextually flirty and sam showing up and kansas the band plays while deancas play footsies at the bar. but the see-double-yew killed it bc they suck and hate love. but i SAW it. i know it’s real. apollo prophecy ball hit me. 

[auncyen]

what I meant to write: mIrabelle as the one looping having a crying breakdown in the equivalent of act 3 because I thought of it a few days ago and it's been stuck in my head (Panic! at the Dinner Table).

What actually got written: can you imagine how terrible it'd be for another looper to start suspecting Siffrin did something WELL

-

Siffrin has been suspicious for several days.

(Odile might say 'days' is inaccurate, but it's close enough, you think! You start in early afternoon on one day and then, when everything goes well, see Euphrasie in late afternoon of the next day, so it's around a day--sometimes over...many times under. Also, calling them days feels...better. Maybe it's a 'cycle' or 'loop' for everyone else caught up in this, with them always being reset to the same places, the same lines until you start changing things, but you are moving through time. You're Changing.)

(You're changing, aren't you?)

(For the better?)

--Siffrin has been suspicious for several of your days. They still act like their friendly self--they've even gifted you a flower sometimes! (You suppose other times you might have been too abrupt in waking them up. And sometimes you haven't woken them up at all, because you realize they'll come to the Clocktower anyway. They all will, it's where you're staying. You couldn't come up with anything more creative than a sleepover?) But...something's off.

You first realized something was strange about Siffrin--well, a lot of things are strange about Siffrin. You're more worried about his memory than ever now. Whenever you go into that secret room for the stash of tonics, Siffrin starts talking about a time he ran away from home, only to suddenly stop and look confused. You've tried encouraging him to continue by reminding him of everything he said up to that point (Isabeau applauded your thorough recitation with the most lightheartedness he could muster while still looking Siffrin over with his own concern), but it doesn't jog anything. You've tried guiding Siffrin to tell the story a different way with questions, but it seems like he loses the thread even faster that way. Lately you've just...cut him off from telling the story by laughing as soon as he brings it up and mentioning how mad his parents must have been when he returned. Siffrin still looks confused and lost for a terrible moment when you say that, but then he grins and agrees, and surely he's agreeing because that's what actually happened, isn't it? He said he was playing a prank. He played a silly prank for an hour or two, and then he went home, and probably he got a scolding for it but everything was fine.

...You still. Would like to avoid that room in the future. To not see that scared, lost look on Siffrin. Maybe you're strong enough now that you don't need the tonics?

But, but, you need to focus. Siffrin's memory problems are strange and worrying, and you really wished they'd said sooner how bad it is instead of letting you all tease them about it, but what's suspicious is their connection to the King.

You're not entirely sure what it is. When you go to the King, he always singles Siffrin out. "Bright One...do you remember?"

Obviously, with the already-mentioned memory problems, the answer is No. You've tried asking Siffrin if they know the King in any way, but of course he says no? Even if they knew each other once, Siffrin could have forgotten him the same way he can't remember what happened when he went out on the ocean in a boat to prank his parents? You imagined a tragically doomed romance between a villain and a hero with partial amnesia from an injury earned in one of their past scuffles (why is Siffrin's memory that bad???) for all of ten seconds before you realized that if Siffrin could forget the King, he'll surely forget boring, stagnant Mirabelle as soon as he leaves. After that you were too depressed to imagine anything between Siffrin and the King, which was probably for the better. Especially considering...

One time, the King singled out Siffrin in a different way. A terrible way. The first loop--the first day after you defeated the King and got to see Euphrasie for a glimpse of happiness before being sent back--you'd lost your temper a bit. You'd pushed everyone to go through the House faster than any time before, brought back to your senses at the end of the second floor by Odile dryly commenting on her tired feet while giving a pointed look at Bonnie, who was obviously getting worn out. You'd apologized over and over, and chewed your nails off at the second snack break to let them take all the time they needed to recover their energy, and went through the third floor without saying anything to rush Siffrin. You'd kept your temper in check until you saw the King again, and then you'd accused him of being a cheat, an unchanged loser who couldn't accept defeat, and he'd let your venting wash over him with a calm indifference ("I do not know what you speak of, Housemaiden") until you told him exactly what you were speaking of--the time that kept turning back, again and again, the days the loops the returns--

His face is mostly obscured by his long hair, but you could tell by the way his head turned that he'd directed his attention to Siffrin, and you knew it was with a glare by the cold fury in his voice. "What have you done, Bright One. The Universe's will is with me."

And then

the king struck

and Siffrin--

You don't speak to the King anymore. You don't let him talk either. You're pretty sure he told you everything you'd want to know from him. He can use Time Craft, but he isn't the one holding you in these endless days. He thinks Siffrin can use Time Craft, which sounds ridiculous, but since then you've talked with the Change God (you'd wanted reassurance you'd wanted a sign your statue was the only one unbroken in the whole House and you touched its face in reverence and the Change God spoke to you) and they'd told you three things:

you're their favorite!

they're put out by Dormont being stagnant and unchanging, but they're excited to see how exactly you change (maybe being their favorite isn't good. Your favorite characters go through some awful things, after all)

Siffrin isn't not responsible for this???

So it makes sense that Siffrin had a hand in this somehow! After a few more days which let you reach Euphrasie, you realized the time reset at the end only happens while Euphrasie is talking to Siffrin! That's suspicious! And, and, you've tried preventing it by keeping Euphrasie from talking to Siffrin, but she is so insistent she'd like to talk to them, and everyone starts looking at you strangely the more you protest, and you just...can't stop it.

You can't stop Siffrin from ruining things.

You hate that you're even suspicious of him, but he won't admit to using Time Craft when you ask, and surely even with his terrible memory, he'd remember that? He doesn't forget everything! But if he's lying, then...

Then you don't know what that means.

You don't know what to do.

--

...What Siffrin did: show Mirabelle how to wish and be an islander recognized by other islanders and not particularly liked by the Change God

[ur-local-demon1]

Rants from a tired writer: Tragic Backstories

Dear writers and readers/viewers (depends on medium), for the love of everything please PLEASE understand how to use tragic backstories for antagonists properly!!!

An antagonist's traumatic past is an EXPLANATION for their poor behaviour, not an excuse!! That kind of backstory is here to show that it's rare for someone to do bad things just for the sake of being bad; a lot of the time, antagonists have a reason for behaving antagonistically (or you could have someone like Emperor Belos who has a reason for behaving antagonistically but also does bad things just for the sake of being bad, which is awesome).

That's why sometimes it rubs me the wrong way when fans of a certain piece of media dislike an antagonist's redemption arc just because they felt like the show was throwing them a pity party. Of course, there are times where writers are guilty of doing that, and I'm criticizing them here as well. The antagonist's traumatic past is here to humanise them, to remind the audience and characters that in spite of it all, they're still a person. In cases where the antagonist is redeemable, this can make the audience and characters sympathise with or even relate to them.

A lot of people hate her but I don't care, I'm going to use her as an example anyway: Akito Sohma is one of those redeemable villains that gets humanised through her and Tohru's shared experience of being ostracised and abandoned.

No, you're not supposed to feel bad for Akito because she cried and said she felt lonely. You're supposed to feel bad for Akito because Tohru is the first person to treat her as a human being and not as a God, as well as validating her fear of being left behind by saying that she feels the same way. + You're supposed to feel bad for Akito because she is denied the right to be herself in every single way possible, including, but not limited to, her gender.

Akito getting redeemed does not take away all the pain and trauma that still affects the members of the zodiac that she hurt. In fact, not all of them forgive Akito, and that is okay. Akito herself states that she would have been fine not being forgiven at all, she just wanted to better herself. Her apology wasn't even done through words, but actions; she could not bring herself to say "I'm sorry" to all of her family because she didn't want them to think she was apologising just to make herself feel better or to gain their forgiveness. Anyway, I love Akito so much and I will write love letters to her in my analyses every time I have the opportunity to do so, you're welcome.

However, there are times where writers really do mess up and just want you to feel bad for their poor little moral scapegoat. I have not made a She-Ra critical post in so long, but who else fits the bill more than Catra? Her traumatic past does explain her resentment and violent tendencies towards Adora, but the show lost me the second they tried to make it into an excuse. Not only that, but making Adora "leaving" Catra a central point of the tension in their relationship when Catra was given multiple chances to leave just made me want to bash my head into the nearest wall.

The big problem with Catra is that she does not change, nor is she held accountable for her actions for longer than one episode. The only thing that did change is that she does not physically abuse Adora anymore, but the verbal and psychological abuse does remain. And lastly, the viewers and characters are considered objectively wrong for not trusting or liking her even though they have legitimate reasons not to. Of course, I'm not saying that the characters are not allowed to forgive her, but forgiveness is earned not owed, and Catra has done nothing to earn it, and it would have been nice for at least one character like Adora, Entrapta, Scorpia or anyone to have said "I'm glad that you're trying to become a better person, but I don't have to be there to witness that. I wish you the best but I don't want you in my life anymore."

Well, I have said my peace. I might start posting more writing takes on here while still talking about my favourite shows/books by using them as examples, let's see how it goes! I love writing so much so I'm very glad to be able to express that on my socials :)