#but i’ve played enough times that in theory i should know which places to avoid before leveling up

[cicadaknight]

Durge Timeloop: Hadrin

Half-Elf Drow | Monk (Four Elements)

Honor Mode Attempt #1 | 5h 26min

Cause of Death: Angry Gnolls

Dark Urge Influence: Powerful

Companions Lost: Gale, Karlach

[strawberry-smog]

SHERMIE.

Man, I hate this guy. While overthinking the Gravity Falls timeline brings me joy that only trying to put together a miscut puzzle with a boxcutter and some paint to scribble over the pieces that just don’t match anything can, Shermie is one of the fandom’s eternal lore tangles that just annoys me. I would prefer to simply never think about him, and yet after that stupid book taunted me about him again, I am opening this can of sherms and thinking about him and how he fits into the timeline and the wider Pines family dynamics.

I feel like most of the more lore-interested fan content, or at least the stuff concerning Stan and Ford, tends to go for the Older Shermie fan theory. And even though this is something that makes the most sense out of the mechanical number-crunching timeline part of the story, on a character writing level older Shermie just rings false to me: Stan and Ford are so defined by them being the only two people in each other’s lives from a young age, and even if Shermie was old enough or estranged enough or both to have never had any significant interactions with his baby brothers, I think the mere existence of an older brother would’ve cast a shadow over their childhood as something to idolize or something to be afraid of ending up like.

Plus, we’ve got Ford being given Filbrick’s wedding suit as a young man and the present day Stan-as-Ford inheriting all of the family’s old junk, which both seem to point towards Ford being the eldest son, although I will concede that this works for a no-contact Shermie too.

All of this seems like it should make me a Younger Shermie truther, but that doesn’t exactly feel right to me either - it works better for the older Pines family dynamic, but once you get to the younger generation you have to start thinking about the timeline again and how the unavoidable double teen pregnancies fit into the story there, and subjectively I feel like that doesn’t really fit the way Dipper and Mabel are presented. To me their branch of the Pines family seems a bit more insulated from those kinds of big dramas, with Dipper and Mabel as kind of these average middle class kids living a pretty normative life who find out about all the skeletons in their family’s closet over the course of the show. Also you’d think Stan would at least mention Shermie’s pipe game.

So if Shermie isn’t their older brother or their younger brother, who is he? Well, I don’t know, to be perfectly honest. I know there’s the time paradox gag in Lost Legends, but Shermie going through some crazy time dilation adventure is also something that feels off to me for the boring grandpa role he plays in the family dynamic, and it adds unnecessary wackiness and intrigue to the otherwise more grounded extended Pines family.

The scant other mentions of him aren’t very helpful for getting a clearer picture - Ford writes about him weirdly distantly for a brother in his journal. The only reference to him is him being full-named like he’s a stranger - which, I mean, I think it makes sense for the writers because it clears up any lingering “wait, is Shermie short for a male or female name?” confusion amongst people who didn’t play the DS game, while still letting them avoid “my older/younger brother” phrasing so as not to highlight the awkwardness of his place in the timeline and avoid canonizing a birth order for him. And to be fair, Ford in general seems 0% interested in his family once he gets back from the portal too: there’s some brief mentions, but he doesn’t have any questions about what they’re up to or whether his by-now-quite-elderly parents are even, y’know, alive. I think based on what Bill says about his family in the Book of Bill it can be assumed that Ford was estranged in all but name from his parents by the time he met Bill and being hunted across dimensions for 30 years certainly didn’t give him any opportunities to change his opinion on that, but this is getting off topic.

Anyway, now that I’ve rambled for a bit here’s me going through every Shermie theory I can think of and trying to present some evidence for all of them.

Theory 1: Shermie is Stan and Ford’s older brother and THE BABY is his child

Problems: The Pines are explicitly stated to only have two sons in ATOTS, and Ford is surprised to find out that he has niblings

Solution A: Shermie has been estranged from his family for long enough that the local high school principal has no idea he exists, and his parents don’t care to correct the mistake

Problem A: If Shermie isn’t in contact with his family why would they be looking after his baby?

Solution B: Shermie is not estranged, but for whatever reason the principal of Glass Shard Beach High has no idea he exists (he didn’t go to that school? The principal recently transferred from somewhere else?) and his parents still didn’t care to correct that mistake

Problem B: This makes it weirder that none of the characters in the flashback bring up his existence, and also doesn’t solve the issue of Ford acting like he hasn’t had niblings before Dipper and Mabel

Solution C: Shermie is trans and from the other characters’ perspective back in the 60s the principal was correct when he said there were only two Pines boys

Problem C: This still doesn’t solve the problem with Ford acting like he didn’t have any niblings, and maybe makes it a bit weird that Ford wouldn’t make any mention of it if he transitioned after 1982/3

Solution D: One of the above theories is correct and also THE BABY is not Shermie’s child but a fourth sibling or a random other baby being babysat

Problem D: who is this goddamn baby???

Solution E: Shermie IS estranged from his family and has also fucked off and left his child for them to raise

Problem E: Doesn’t really jive with him being at Dipper and Mabel’s birth or Stan calling him “a square”

Theory 2: Shermie is Stan and Ford’s younger brother and THE BABY

Problems: this makes both him and Dipper and Mabel’s parent very young parents, alongside possibly implying that Shermie died very young with how Stan refers to him in the past tense in Gnome Gemulets

Solution: there’s really nothing in canon saying they weren’t teen parents or that Shermie didn’t die in his forties (or that Stan wasn’t just using the past tense because he was telling old stories), it’s just kind of awkward

Bonus evidence: while Stan’s weirdly personal story about watching movies with your girlfriend leading to children ruining your life in Little Giftshop of Horrors is A) from a non-canon episode and B) said by Hirsch on twitter to have been something Filbrick said to him growing up, if you ignore Word of God it works pretty well as Stan remembering what happened to Shermie

Theory 3: Shermie is a normal age to have preteen grandkids but also isn’t Stan and Ford’s full brother

Problems: this is ridiculously blatant fanwank with zero in-text support aside from Stan and Ford never directly calling him their brother. It also has the same issues with who exactly THE BABY is as the standard Older Shermie Theory

Solution A: Shermie is Stan and Ford’s cousin and they’re referred to as great uncles because “first cousin twice removed Stan” doesn’t have a great ring to it

Problem A: when Ford hears about Shermie’s grandkids he specifically calls them his niece and nephew. While sure, this could be part of the same reasoning that has Dipper and Mabel calling the Stans their uncles in this theory, Ford at this point has no preexisting relationship with the concept of being especially close to kids-of-his-cousins'-kids, clearly wasn't very close with Shermie when they were both on the same planet, and singles out niece and nephew with a special kind of excitement that makes it seem like he's interested in the idea of a sibling of his having kids, rather than just more cousins which is something pretty much everyone has

Solution B: Shermie is a half-brother to Stan and Ford from another relationship of Filbrick’s

Problem B: this adds yet more convoluted family drama with zero canon evidence to the Pines family. However, since there is zero evidence for it there’s also nothing to really dispute it, seeing as how it’s mainly fanfic that has little relation to the canon backstory

Bonus evidence: Counting in dubiously canon sources such as Shmeb-You-Unlocked and the Stan DVD Commentary, Filbrick has had at least two careers before becoming a pawnbroker, which he was all throughout Stan and Ford’s childhood. Plenty of time to have had an entire other family, perhaps?

Theory 4: Shermie is THE BABY but Shmebulock’s conspiracy board from Lost Legends was correct when it brought up the possibility of a time paradox surrounding Shermie

Problem: wouldn’t the other characters notice that he was the wrong age?

Solution: it’s Gravity Falls so you can’t actually rely on people to act like normal human beings. This is another one where there’s no real evidence against it, it’s just kind of weird

Theory 5: Sherman is Stan’s middle name, and by calling them “Shermie’s” grandkids Stan is signalling to Ford that they’re secretly his grandkids… and THE BABY is his kid that he never got back in contact with, I guess?

Problems: why would Ford cover for this. Why wouldn’t Dipper and Mabel notice their grandpa doesn’t exist. Why

Solution: come on man

[writingwithcolor]

Blending Mythos Respectfully

@sapphicq submitted:

Hi all! I’m trying to write an urban fantasy that explores oppression in a world that is basically the same as ours, except with magic, while incorporating magical systems and mythologies of multiple cultures. I’ve done an okay amount of research on each one that I’d like to include (still need to do more for sure, especially considering how colonization has effected mythologies). However, I’m struggling a bit on how they should coexist, since in the world I’m writing about they’re present and tangible. One example of this is fox spirits in East Asian mythology. Japanese, Korean, Vietnamese, and Chinese mythologies each have a nine-tailed fox, and though my research says that the myth originates from Chinese mythology, it also says that each of the fox spirits carry different connotations of malevolence, benevolence, and how widespread they are, depending on which culture’s mythology is being referred to. 

The same sort of thing has been popping up quite a lot in a lot of my research. I started to wonder if I could explain these similarities within world as “different cultures have come up with different names and customs surrounding the ‘same’ thing,” considering mythology in the real world from an anthropological perspective. However I don’t want to overgeneralize, especially considering that these different mythological figures are meant to be present and tangible. If I went that route, I wouldn’t want to say something like ‘actually, benevolent fox spirits do exist, and Korean mythology about fox spirits is wrong since Kumiho are pretty strictly malevolent,’ which would obviously be an implication. All this to say: do you have any tips for multiple mythos coexisting in a way that respects the various cultures they come from?

Avoid Round Pegs in Square Holes

A mistake you sometimes see Western authors make when dealing with mythology in urban fantasy settings is to confine the universe’s worldbuilding to a particular mythology or force the rules of a single culture’s folklore onto other cultures. For instance, here at WWC, we get a lot of questions asking how to represent supernatural creatures from multiple cultures respectfully alongside fae from Western Europe, and it's fairly obvious that the author plans to treat all supernatural creatures as fae. Urban fantasy based on Greek mythology or Christian mythology often falls into the same trap. 

I think a writer can demonstrate greater creativity by embracing these differences. I think a potential way to deal with contradicting mythos between cultures is to come up with compelling reasons why differences exist. What world-building systems, philosophies and real-life phenomena allow for a framework that explains the simultaneous existence of commonalities and differences? As you know, in anthropology, there are theories that emphasize cultural diffusion as a way to explain similar customs within the same region, but there are also theories that hold that multiple cultures can develop the same traditions and principles independent of each other (See: existence of 0, lost-wax bronze casting, astronomical calendars and the use of wheels). The answers I’ve given are mostly technological. However myths and belief systems serve very real social functions as ways to keep people together and cultivate norms and mores. Lesya expands on the utility of intentional cultural diffusion below.

Similarly, within evolution, there are instances of species having common features because of a shared ancestor, but also instances where species without shared ancestors evolve to have similar features because they exist in the same environment. I believe flippers are examples of both types of evolution in marine animals.  Thus, I think you need to question your assumption that “different cultures have come up with different names and customs surrounding the ‘same’ thing.” As the world is daily proof, they sometimes do, but they also sometimes don’t. 

-Marika

First, props to you for sending us this ask. You have been thinking about this a lot and have done research into building an urban fantasy that doesn’t do the thing of putting all Asians under one umbrella. 

Second, I’m going to agree with Marika here. Rather than go for the generalization route, revel in everyone's differences. It's a way for you to acknowledge the variations in the mythology, that not all have the same origins though there may be some similarities. Instead, they may have reached the same conclusions. My advice for blending mythologies is to lean into it, and not create a homogeneous umbrella. You can make something amazing with that. 

-Jaya

Hybridity Through Diffusion

So a myth originated in China. This does not mean Chinese tellings have the monopoly on what a telling is. Marika and Jaya have gone into a possible solution, here, but what I’m going to examine here is a mental framework that a lot of people get stuck in that is actually ahistorical.

Cultural appropriation as we know it is shockingly recent when it comes to history. In the modern day, ownership boundaries of myths have become very strict because of primarily European colonialism picking and choosing everything it likes about a mythos, and, this is important: not letting up on the oppression of those peoples. There’s also a strong preference to kill those colonialism deems “wrong”, instead of creating a hybrid culture.

Historically, this got a lot more fluid.

What happened historically was primarily cultural diffusion, wherein open trade, intermarriage, and shared borders made it that myths, customs, and cultural practices were (mostly) freely exchanged without massive power imbalances happening, and then modified to fit local beliefs.

Key word: mostly. Because yes sometimes it happened that one place took over another place and imported all of its customs (see: China, Rome, the Mughals), but… often* the ruling power either backed off, was fought of, or otherwise left the region, leaving the common people to do whatever they wanted with the carcass of what had been imposed on them. Or sometimes, even, the imperial forces would actively create a hybridized culture in order to better rule others.

* in places where the ruling power has NOT backed off on oppression and assimilation, even if the colonialism is very old, then this is invalid and the power dynamics of appropriation are still at play.

Because, historically, there was a lot less incentive to simply genocide the peoples you took over (which is what made armies that did destroy all they took over so noteworthy). People were needed to keep providing food and materials, even if the new person got the resulting taxes. 

This meant there were a lot more common people to play with the stuff imported by the imperial culture. And there was a lot more incentive to hybridize your customs to the common people’s customs, leading to the sometimes-hilarious situations like “Rome assigns an equivalence in their pantheon for literally every mythology they encountered, which was a lot.” 

This also explains early Christianization, because it was a lot safer to simply adapt what you already had to make it better for your own ends than curbstomp everything that was “wrong” to your worldview. Ireland’s mythology survives in huge swaths, because it was either Christianized wholesale, or it was about “historical humans” and not fae. Norse mythology was similarly adapted for Christian worldviews, which means we unfortunately have no idea what the pre-Christian myths were.

So instead of thinking in terms of ownership, think instead in terms of diffusion. 

Myths get imported along with food, cloth, or anything else necessary for life. Myths were, historically, a way for people to explain the world around them, both in place of and alongside science. “Ghost marches” are really common, globally, because if you have wind howling in the forest, it’s going to sound like predators, and predators mean go inside and lock the door. Weaving goddesses are also common, because weaving was so necessary to survive the elements.

Sometimes trade relationships soured, and you get bad associations with the imported stuff. Sometimes the relationship stayed great for long enough it got completely adapted. This doesn’t mean any one myth is “right”, nor does it mean you have to erase historical trade links. It just means you look at the historical context, understand that cultural exchange often used to be a lot more two-way than it is in modern appropriation times, and figure out what that means for your worldbuilding.

~ Mod Lesya

[itsallyscorner]

For Tom x

Pairing: Tom Holland x singer!reader

Summary: You have a surprise for Tom:)

Warnings: none, just pure teeth rotting Fluff:)

A/n: Hello my loves! This is literally a rewrite because I accidentally deleted the original version of this story on Tumblr RIGHT before I was gonna post it😭 Anyway here it is, I hope you all like it! Ally x

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

look at my sunshine🥺

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

Your giggles filled the hallway as you lead Tom into your makeshift studio. Since you were quarantining with him and his mates in their shared home in London, you were miles away from your crew and studio. Which, yes, made it difficult to record an entire album on your own—but it did give you the creative freedom to do whatever you pleased for the album.

The boys had their own creative outlets; for example putting together a puzzle or having a movie marathon. While you found those activities enjoyable, the inner singer in you couldn’t stop thinking of beats or coming up with lyrics in your head. You needed the studio—you needed to bring those beats and lyrics to life before you could forget them. So with the help of the houses’ tech lord himself, Harry made it possible for you to have your own little studio in the spare guest room of the house. There, you spent endless days writing and recording things like harmonies and building melodies. Little did you know that this would lead to the creation of your sixth album. Now a couple months later, your latest album is currently in its final stages and would soon be released to the world.

Tom adoringly watched your figure, which was drowned in one of his oversized jumpers, excitedly skip towards the guest room. As soon as you were both inside, you rushed to close the door and eagerly pushed him to sit on the edge of the bed.

“What have you been up to, lovey?” He teasingly asks you. He knew you were up to something, he just didn’t know if it were bad or good.

Your figure was bent over the desk where your laptop was located. Turning over your shoulder you tell him, “It’s nothing bad, I promise!” You’re met with an amused grin on his blush pink lips.

Gathering your laptop into your arms, you move to sit beside Tom on the bed. He curiously leans forward, trying to get a glance at what’s on your screen.

“Nuh uh, it’s a surprise, Thomas.” You playfully scold him and gently push his face away from your laptop. He responds with a pout against your palm before pressing a kiss onto your skin. You continue to click around on your laptop, looking through your documents for the specific file.

Meanwhile, Tom shuffles further up the bed, getting comfortable. He notices the new distance between you and him and decides that he’s unsatisfied with the additional inches. He choses to snake his arms around your waist and lifts you up, happily placing you on the empty and lonely space on his lap. Laying down on his back, he takes a moment to admire the way you look in his jumper. It was a few sizes bigger than you and stopped right above your knees. The jumper may have looked good on him, but it looked absolutely perfect on you.

“You look so cute in my jumper.” He hums, hands lazily rubbing up and down your thighs. Your nose scrunches up as you lightly slap his chest; your silent way of saying “shut up” whenever Tom would say something that made you blush.

You finally find the file you were looking for and place your laptop on your lap. You nervously glance at your screen, biting down on your lip out of habit.

“Ok, so I did something.” You started. Tom squints his eyes at you, “That sounds like the beginning of a really bad something.”

You huff, “I just told you it wasn’t anything bad! Do you want your surprise or not?”

Tom chuckles and grasps onto your thighs, “Yes—yes, sorry, keep going.”

“So you know how I’ve already finished my album?” You question him. Tom nods, staring up at you while you sit on his thighs.

“Well, I wrote a few more songs that were supposed to be on the album. But I don’t know, I felt a bit greedy and decided to keep them for myself.” You explain. Tom raises a brow at you, “Baby, you don’t have to feel guilty about keeping songs to yourself. If you don’t want to share them, you don’t have to.”

“No, it’s just that, they’re about you.” You pause, staring down at your fingers that fiddled together. “Like I wrote them specifically for you to listen to. I wanted to include them on the album, but it just didn’t feel right to share something that was meant only for you.”

You place your laptop on the bed and turn it so the screen is facing Tom.

“So...as a solution, I made you your own album.” You were too busy avoiding his stare, that you missed the twinkle in Tom’s coffee colored orbs. He carefully sits up, his arms around you getting tighter, as he pulls you closer into his chest. Tom ducks his head down to yours, nudging your nose with his to get you to look at him. When your eyes finally meet, the lopsided grin on his features grows wider.

“You made me my own album?”

“Yeah.” You shyly answer. Tom softly coos at you, cupping your face and pressing a chaste kiss onto both of your cheeks.

“You are the most precious thing in the world, sunshine, I swear.” He squishes your cheeks together and began to cover your face with butterfly like kisses. Sweet laughs erupt from you, the sounds making Tom’s heart swell.

You stuff your face in the space between his neck and shoulder, using it as a place to hide from his lips. Instead, Tom opts to lay his kisses along the side of your face, your neck, and your shoulder.

“Lemme kiss you!” He whines. You chuckle at him, finally moving away from his neck. His attention darts towards your lips more than once, prompting you to lean forward and connect them with his. Tom’s lips were soft against yours, like clouds or cushiony pillows. The kiss was short and sweet; though it didn’t prevent you from feeling the adoration and passion he felt for you in that moment. In fact, he felt it all the time, but right now, his love for you was coursing through his veins.

He finally pulls away, leaving the taste of him linger in your mouth. “Can I have a listen?” He motions his head towards your laptop beside him.

“Go ahead.” Tom’s arms unravel from your waist, the area they once occupied left cold and yearning for his warmth. He uses one of his elbows to hold himself up and the other to control the touchpad. His eyes scan the file.

For Tom x

someone like u

test drive

worst behavior

main thing

He glances at you, “I start with ‘someone like u’, right?” You reply with a quiet “mhm”.

Tom clicks on the link. The opening notes of ‘someone like u’ begin to play followed by your angelic voice. You hear him release a content sigh, making a small smile to form on your lips. His arms make their way around you again, this time holding you closer against him. He rests his head on your chest and sneakily presses a kiss onto your neck. You fondly run a hand through his curly hair and rest your chin on the top of his head, listening to the songs you’ve made for him.

The two of you listen through the album in one go with no stops. You found joy in Tom’s reactions towards every song. Sometimes he would make little comments or sounds of shock whenever he heard you hit a certain note. He nodded along to the beats of ‘test drive’ and ‘worst behavior’, dancing around in his seat and making you join him. This time, you didn’t miss the twinkle in his eyes when he listened closely to the lyrics. ‘Main thing’ got him the most, leaving him with a goofy-lovesick grin plastered onto his face.

When ‘main thing’ came to a close, the room became silent, leaving Tom enough time to process the four songs you wrote about him and the meanings behind them.

You were the first to speak, “So did you like it?” You scan his face looking for any signs of dislike.

Tom’s eyes widen, “Are you kidding me? That was bloody fantastic—that was the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard! I’m obsessed with it, oh my god!” He expressed, arms moving around as he spoke.

His face was radiating with happiness, “You are the most talented and loving woman in the world. And I honestly don’t know what I did to deserve you or your love—but I just love you so fucking much.”

“I love you so fucking much too, you dork.” You laugh, pecking his lips.

“No, but seriously, thank you so much. I know you’re used to writing songs, but the fact that you actually took the time to write songs about me means a lot. They’re just a bunch of songs, but they mean the world to me and I cherish each and every one of them.” He admits, taking one of your hands and placing it onto his heart. Your palm feels the faint rhythm of his heart beating against his chest.

You tilt your head at him, mirroring the smile on his face, “I’ll always write songs about you. You somehow manage to inspire them anyway.”

Tom smirks, “Well I am Tom Holland.” You snort and roll your eyes at his humble brag.

“You’re still a dork, Tommy.” You comment.

Tom shrugs, “I’m a special dork because I’m your dork. Therefore making me superior to the other existing dorks—there’s a difference, darling.”

“And where did you come up with this hypothesis, Mr. Holland?” You question him, playing along with his antics.

“It’s Tom’s Theory.” He answers with feign seriousness. You burst out laughing, “Oh is it?”

Tom leans down to your laptop and restarts his album. “Yes, and now Tom’s Theory, believes that we should listen to the album again until I learn all the lyrics to every single song.” He proclaims.

“Babe, you don’t have to—” Tom stops you, “I’m dead serious.”

It was going to be a long night.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Kenickie Murdoch

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You never really cared about social classes or what people chose to wear. In theory, you didn’t mind greasers; you’d actually been quite fond of them at your old school. You just didn’t like the greasers at Rydell. 

- Your family moved houses during your senior year and since Rydell was much closer than the school you’d been going to for the past three years, your parents chose to enroll you there instead. 

- Fast forward to your first day at school. Coincidentally, you ended up on the same bus as Patty Simcox, who enthusiastically took it upon herself to become your tour guide. 

- The minute you stepped foot into the schools parking lot, her eyes zeroed in on a group of boys who were stood near the front of the school. You glanced over and asked if something was wrong. Her response was to warn you about “the T-Birds” and the other greaser/delinquent groups in the school. 

- You stopped yourself from rolling your eyes and assured her you would, mainly to change the subject. You hadn’t really intended to avoid the kids, well, up until you got your first real look at them. 

- Greasers started trouble at your old school, but it was always with people who either deserved it or were willing to fight back. This; you watched as the group of boys teased “Eugene”, wasn’t the same. You shook your head and made your way to your first period class, realizing that it was probably good to stay away from these delinquents. 

- But alas, that would prove to be quite difficult. Kenickie was in; at least, one of your classes; he could have been in more considering you were sure he cut half of them that day. And he seemed to take a liking to you the moment he walked in; late, to class. 

- You could feel him burning holes into the side of your head and when you finally glanced towards him, he gave you a small crooked grin. You rolled your eyes and turned away, intent on ignoring him for the rest of the period. He didn’t like that. 

- Throughout the period, which was filled with first day “fun” activities, he became increasingly bothersome with his attempts to garner your attention. Tapping his fingers, tapping his foot, dropping a textbook “on accident”, making loud jokes. You accidentally chuckled at one of them and were immediately met with a grin and wink once you snuck a glance at him. 

- The bell chimed and you picked up your things, making your way out of class quickly, hoping to leave him in the dust. You had no such luck as he seemed to be hot on your tail, matching your pace as he uttered his first words to you. 

“Haven’t seen you around here.”

“Maybe you haven’t looked hard enough.”

“Believe me, I’d remember a face like yours.” 

“Well maybe you should try and forget it.” You told him just as you entered your next class, leaving him standing in the doorway; a determined look plastered across his face. This wouldn’t be the end of it. 

- For the next few months, Kenickie would do everything he could to get you to acknowledge him. Teasing, flirting, complimenting, peacocking, playing it cool; you name it.  

- Going to hang out somewhere? He always just happens to be there, catching your eye as he enters the room. If you go to walk past him, he’ll block you with his legs, making you stop and speak to him; if only to say an exasperated excuse me, as you wait. 

- Waiting outside for someone? Well so is he. Hey, it isn’t his fault that you’re stood in a popular place that his friends always meet at …but while you’re here, why doesn’t he buy you a coke or something? 

- It’s not that you hated him. Sure, he annoyed you and could be a real jerk when he wanted to be but you didn’t hate him. A part of you even liked him and his attention, but you also knew that it probably wasn’t in your best interest to be interested in him. 

- Ever since you came to the school, all you ever heard about was how him and his friends did this or how him and his friends did that. Watch out for Kenickie. Oh can you guess who Kenickie parked with last night. Some of  it seemed exciting and he was certainly handsome, but he was also trouble and that was the last thing you needed, wasn’t it? 

- Unfortunately for you, Kenickie wasn’t keen on giving up and your resolve was beginning to break. His flirtation took a less obnoxious turn, it even started sounding sweet and soon enough you had to admit that he’d wormed his way into your heart. 

- It was after school one day, you were sat in the nearly empty courtyard, reading a book and enjoying the sun. After a while, you heard boots scraping slightly on the concrete behind you, the noise getting closer and closer until you heard your name. You immediately knew who it was. 

“Kenickie?” You asked, turning to look at him.

- He locked eyes with you for a moment, looking as though he really wanted to say something before he glanced up. His eyes scanned over the five people who were sat in the courtyard around you, his teeth nibbling anxiously at his bottom lip. 

“C’mon, I gotta talk to you.” He said, taking you by the arm and pulling you out of your seat, dragging you behind him as he walked to a totally deserted area behind the school. 

- The two of you stopped short and you watched him as he turned towards you. He was acting …strangely. Was he sick? Was he on something? You were about to say something when he finally spoke. 

“Y/n? You know how I’m always messin with ya?” He tugged at his collar, his eyes darting around, moving from the ground to your face and back to the ground again. “And how I- How I’ve, well, you know. How I’ve been messin with ya. 

- Listening to him ramble, it took you a minute but you finally realized what was going on. The Kenickie Murdoch …was nervous. 

- The thought flattered you more than anything. The tough greaser of your school was getting genuinely flustered and it was because of you. 

- His eyes landed on you for a long moment, his words coming to a stop as he seemed to mull over what he should say. Finally, he looked to his feet and spoke, his voice so low that you almost didn’t hear what he said.

“Well, I like you and I wanted to know if you, maybe, liked me too.” He gazed into your eyes once he’d finished, an uncharacteristic vulnerability lingering inside his baby blues. 

- You felt yourself begin to smile, butterflies fluttering inside your stomach as you tried to think of how to respond. Simple seemed like the way to go.

“Yeah,” You said softly, smiling up at him. “Yeah, I like you.”

- A big grin spread across his face, his nerves leaving him in an excited chuckle as he gripped your bicep and gave it a gentle push. Biting his lip as he smiled, his hand moved at his side as though he were banging it against something, before realizing he probably looked like a big goof. 

“Great,” He cleared his throat. “Good. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

- Your first date was at the drive-in theater. You don’t know how hard it was for him to not make a move on you. If you ever noticed him suddenly stiffen, it was because he was willing himself not to reach down and touch your boob or lunge across his center console and kiss you until you couldn’t breathe. You’re a lady, he can’t do that! Bad Kenickie! Bad!

- Knowing his reputation, you chose to make him wait a little and anticipate your first kiss. So the two of you kissed for the first time on your fourth date. But believe me, he tried to smooch you before then.

- The two of you had gone to Frosty’s palace for a shake and after you were finished, he drove the two of you to “makeout point”. He tried to act innocent when you gave him a look but he wasn’t fooling anyone. You rolled your eyes as he drummed his fingers along the steering wheel, uttering out a “come on” and smiling as he dove to connect your lips.

- Well, now that you have him, you won’t be able to get rid of him anytime soon. Not that you want to.

- Pda? All the time baby. You’re his girl and he’s gotta show it …just no goo goo ga ga stuff. He’s got a tough greaser reputation to keep up, ya know?

- His arm is wrapped around your shoulders 90% of the time.

- He likes gripping your chin and tilting you into a kiss. That lovey dovey look in your eyes as your gazing up at him gets him every time.

- Sitting between his legs and leaning back against his chest. He’s a serial lounger so it’s either that or he’ll just drape himself across you.

- He uses a lot of nicknames with you. Most of them are used in a sarcastic tone, unless they’re generic or the two of you are alone.

- Playful threats, sarcasm, and snide remarks.

- He will nap on you, laying his head in your lap and crossing his arms over his chest. Hope you don't mind the grease too much.

- He’ll deny it until his very last breath, but he’s a snuggler and is definitely the one to initiate cuddles 90% of the time. He complains and practically pouts whenever you pull away from him.

- The two of you usually cuddle facing each other, your arms wrapped snug around each other and your legs tangled together. He can’t help but smile whenever you sleepily tell him he smells good; which he always does.

- He insists on walking you to class, not caring about when he manages to get to his own. He’s late everyday anyway.

- Sneaking out to go see him. There’s always a smile on his face as he watches you make your way outside, though he’ll; weakly, scold you if you do anything dangerous. You just tell him that he could always stop coming to see you. He never takes you up on that offer.

- Late night drives.

- Parking in dark areas.

- Desperate makeouts. He always trails after your lips every time you pull away, moaning your name like the two of you were doing a whole lot more than kissing.

- One word: insatiable. His hormones are racing. Testosterone is pumping through his body. His pelvis is leading the way wherever he goes. He can force himself to wait until you want to do something but boy is it hard when you look so good.

- The more heated things get, the sloppier his kisses become; though you’re usually too far gone to really care.

- “Sneaky butt grabs” and blatant grinding against you.

- He definitely air humps your backside and makes grabbing hands at your butt/chest when you aren’t facing him, pretending like he wasn't doing anything when you turn to look at him.

- Hickeys. 

- Soft pushes when he makes wisecracks. He’ll knock shoulders with you and smirk or waggle his eyebrows, until you smile and roll your eyes.

- Anytime he does something; especially something big, he’ll ask what you think or look towards you for your reaction. He seeks your praise. Your opinion means a lot to him, even if he doesn’t outright say it.

- He probably got your name tattooed on him at some point. I wouldn't put it past the sucker.

- Not so deep down, he’s a softie and a pushover; especially for you. Try not to give him too much lip when he gets all goo goo eyed with you.

- As suave as he may seem. He hasn’t made it with all that many girls; at least not all the way. Sometimes, you’re gonna be genuinely shocked with some of the confessions that he makes to you because they all just make him seem so much more …cute.

- Momma’s boy. You think it’s sweet when you go over to his house and she dotes on him, usually prompting him to give an embarrassed “ma” with a mouthful of sandwich and/or reddening cheeks.

- He doesn't have a whole lot of spending money so; generally, the two of you go on fairly cheap dates, and usually go Dutch when buying things.

- Sock hops.

- Sharing and stealing food. If you can’t finish something and ask if he wants it, be prepared for him to grab it before you can even finish your sentence.

- He’s always got a beer for you if you’re into that sorta thing. He was probably the person to give you your first, amongst other firsts....

- Double; and more, dates with the couples in his gang.

- Your boyfriend is also Danny Zuko's boyfriend so expect to see the greaser a lot. He’s pretty fond of you and much sweeter than you anticipated.

- You’re only allowed to wear the jacket when it’s late at night and he catches you shivering; or when you’re completely alone. He won’t let any of the other guys see you wearing it, they can’t know that he’s gone soft.

- He’s not the best at comforting you but he’s pretty good at cheering you up and distracting you from what’s bothering you.

- Dangerous displays and daredevil antics. Whether he does them to impress or spook you is still up for debate.

- Harmless pranks, usually when you’re alone because he’d have to kick someone’s ass if they laughed you. He’s the only one allowed to tease you.

- He likes looking through your things. Your purse, your shelves, your locker; he’s a curious boy and his questions must be answered through scientific observation. He’s also looking for your compact mirror half the time so maybe just take your bag back and get it for him. 

- Sometimes, a womans gotta stand her ground and you’ll have to every now and again to make sure he doesn't walk all over you. He loves you but he can also be a jerk so give him a little hell when he’s giving you trouble. He learns that you aren’t to be toyed with or disrespected pretty quickly, and to be honest, you putting him in his place kinda turns him on.

- You once went to see a movie with him and offhandedly mentioned that one of the actors was handsome. He spent the whole night criticizing the movie and glancing at you when the actor was on screen to see your reaction. He was also extra handsy and kept trying to make a move, which prompted you to shrug him off. He was genuinely offended that you’d rather watch the guy then fool around with him.

- He can; obviously, be quite the jealous man. The only problem is that when he’s jealous, he usually tries to make you jealous too; especially if you’re fighting. It usually culminates in him failing to keep himself under control, finally just snapping and trying to beat the other guy bloody which is pretty much how all of his bouts of jealousy turn out. 

- He’s protective as all hell in all meanings of the word. He doesn’t want you getting hurt feelings, a hurt body, sick; nothing. He always jumps to your defense, immediately telling people to shut up if they even try to insult or hint at something unsatisfactory about you. Believe me, anybody who messes with you is cruisin’ for a bruisin’. 

- The two of you probably argue quite a bit but you don’t always have full blown fights. He’s usually a pretty blunt and sarcastic boy and doesn’t mince his words very often; especially when he’s angry, so things can get pretty heated whenever you do have a fight. 

- If you storm out on him, he’ll follow, even if he knows you’re about ready to kill him. He’ll take all the abuse you want to throw at him but you’re going to settle and square it right then and there, dammit!

- If you don’t wind up resolving things immediately after, then he’ll linger where he knows you’ll pass, hoping you’ll come up to him and forget everything that happened. He’s shy when apologizing but he does give you one when he’s in the wrong. 

- He shyly mumbles out a “love you” after you say it, especially when it’s in front of the guys. He’ll knock their blocks off if they even so much as smile at his expense.

- He proposes to you straight out of highschool. Some may call him crazy but he knows that you’re the one and he’s ready to spend the rest of his life with you.

[thornedrose44]

Supercorp prompt-

Lena takes an art class to de-stress and Kara is the nude model. Awkward semi- naked flirting ensues.

(A/N: So, I put my own twist on this (hope that’s okay), I made Lena a teacher just because I liked the idea of Lena having to keep her lack of chill under control and be professional in front of a class funny - though this fic went down just a really light, fluffy route which I hadn’t expected when I started it.)

Read on AO3

It had been going well, the first term had passed with only a few missteps and one trip to the emergency room - though, the Dean had told her that Zach had yet to make it through a single class without some sort of accident and had been preemptively banned from taking Chemistry classes for fear of taking out an entire graduation class. 

Lena had never expected to return to her alma mater as a lecturer but the stars had aligned at just the right time. The youngest Luthor had reached a stage in her career where she had finally proven her adoptive mother wrong about not finding success as an artist and had made enough money that she need never paint another picture in her life again. The lack of necessity and the return to a more Luthor-esque lifestyle - galas, fancy balls and paid talks - had subsequently impacted her inspiration. She needed a change. A return to her roots and some sort of stability without losing her ability to make a personal impact with her work. 

Her mentor - J’onn - was stepping down from the art department and had recommended her as his replacement; National City University had jumped at the chance of the world renowned Lena Luthor taking up a teaching position there. 

She was now a third of the way through the school year, settled comfortably into her new role, and absolutely loving it. Her spark was back, and she was enjoying being in one place surrounded by her old friends. She was reconnecting with skills and techniques she hadn’t touched in years whilst simultaneously giving advice and encouragement to students that reminded her of herself when Lillian had cut her off to force her into attending business school and abandoning her dreams. She was finally able to return the kindness J’onn had given her all those years ago to the next generation of artists. 

It was the second term that Lena experienced her first set of real nerves. 

Lena had an artistic weak spot, an achilles heel that she had been able to keep out of her signature artistic style but she would now be forced to confront. 

Life drawing.

It had been her lowest scoring class by a mile and she had avoided the advanced elective classes like the plague. Lena knew practice made perfect but she’d never had enough interest to develop her skills. Her interest had always lied more in natural landscape beauty - J’onn had said her true inspiration lied with trying to recreate her childhood memories of Ireland: emerald rolling hills, rocky cliffs, dense forests ensconced by a mystical fog that lended her artwork a fantastical element that she was now known for.

The problem lied in Lena’s lack of interest in people. 

She had never really seen the ‘art’ in them.

Kelly, Sam and Andrea had spent hours over evening drinks psycho-analysing just why that might be, their two favourite theories were Lena’s family (the loss of her mother and the general unpleasantness of the Luthors) or Lena’s truly terrible dating history (their favourite topic of conversation due to the sheer number of embarrassing stories it elicited).

Lena refused to acknowledge the accuracy of both theories. 

It was therefore with a sense of dread that Lena prepared for the first Life Model Drawing class that Tuesday afternoon. The one small silver lining was that she didn’t need to arrange a model - she had vague memories of J’onn trying to entice volunteers and grumbling under his breath about some of the less than pleasant eager volunteers. J’onn had a list of regular volunteers that he had accrued over the years that were reliable and just liked to help out - most of them older with an appreciation for the arts and more time on their hands than they knew what to do with. The University admin team had organised everything and simply told her to expect a Kara Danvers at the studio some time before the class.

Lena had finished prepping the studio well in advance, reviewed the relevant techniques for most of the morning and even phoned J’onn for a much needed pep talk over lunch. She had just convinced herself that everything might be okay, that she just might be able to do this, when the most beautiful woman Lena had ever laid eyes on burst into the studio.

A toned body that glinted with a light sheen of sweat barely covered by a white v-neck tucked in at the front of a pair of dark jeans that merely brought all of Lena’s attention to the bronze belt buckle that locked away a thousand dirty thoughts. Glorious golden ringlet curls bounced up and down as the woman stumbled to a sudden stop as the most piercing blue eyes imaginable behind thick glasses locked with Lena’s green ones.

“Hi, I’m Kara!” The goddess announced, swallowing thickly and stumbling forward in her hefty black boots as she extended out a hand for Lena to take.

Lena only reached out due to years of Luthor training that had ingrained politeness into her muscle memory - her brain still not firing on all cylinders at the sight of the woman in front of her. Kara’s warm palm connected with Lena’s, long fingers curling gently yet firmly around the edge of her hand and sending arcs of lightning through Lena’s body and causing her breath to stutter. 

“I hope you haven’t been waiting for me for too long.” Kara continued, a bright apologetic smile lighting up her entire face and grinding whatever gears were still turning Lena’s mind to a dead - permanent - halt. “I try to always get here early to help set-up but the interview I was conducting overran - I’m a journalist, by the way - and then my bike - motorbike that is -” Lena’s mind caught on the motorbike and turned it round over and over and over again, “didn’t start and… I’m rambling. Oh, golly! I mean heck, I mean sorry.” Kara huffed, cheeks filling with air before releasing into an adorable pout. “Sorry.”

It was then that Lena realised two things.

One, it was her turn to say something and there had now been at least ten  prolonged seconds of silence as they stared into each other’s eyes.

And two, they were still holding hands because that’s what it was now, it most definitely could not be considered a handshake.

“Umm… hi…” Lena choked out whilst simultaneously jerking her hand back to her side, hoping the somewhat stifling heat of the studio would hide the red blush perfusing her cheeks.  “Lena. I’m Lena, that is…”

“Hi.” Kara murmured, smiling soft and sweet at her causing Lena’s heart to flip and melt and dance and do a million impossible things all at once.

“Hi.” Lena repeated dumbly - so dumbly.

“I should…” Kara chuckled, hands miming grabbing the edge of her t-shirt and lifting it up, “You know?”

Oh, god the goddess is going to undress, Lena’s brain screamed in gay at herself.

“Yeah, definitely do that.” Lena encouraged with a flap of her hand towards the centre of the studio where a solitary illuminated stool awaited. “Do you need anything? Is the lighting okay? Stool… umm… sturdy?”

Kara grinned at her, blue eyes barely sparing a glance at the studio’s set-up, “Looks perfect.”

“Great.” Lena cheered, jerking her thumb over at her desk in the corner where she had prepped her teaching materials, “I’ll… uh… be over there.”

“And I’ll be right here.” Kara shot back with a cheeky wink as she walked over to the stool, a towel awaiting her to provide suitable covering until the class had settled, shucking her white shirt over her head and revealing back muscles that would star in Lena’s fantasies for the foreseeable future.

“Yep.” Lena popped, taking a deep breath and trying to work out if she should be murmuring a thank you to God or screaming a desperate why me.

***

The class had gone well - except for the long periods where her brain shutdown whenever she studied the play of shadows across Kara’s defined musculature. She managed to cover it quite well by making it seem like she was just assessing her students’ work closely, analysing their line work and shading rather than going through an extended gay crisis that eclipsed seeing boobs for the first time in college.

Kara, on the other hand, was a consummate professional, holding a steady pose throughout and utterly unfazed by the concentrated gazes on her - though, Lena could have sworn that she caught deep blue eyes tracking her movements round the half-circle every now and again. 

“So, you’re experienced doing this?” Lena asked, once the last student had departed and Kara was finishing re-tying her sturdy boots back up.

“Taking my clothes off?” Kara chuckled, shooting the teacher an amused smirk, getting to her feet and strolling easily over to where Lena was examining the product of her class’ efforts. 

Lena faltered, “I meant-”

“I’m just teasing.” Kara reassured, reaching out to squeeze Lena’s forearm in a half-apology that Lena could have sworn burnt Kara’s hand print into her skin, “I’ve done this for a while now. I did an interview with J’onn a few years ago and his model bailed at the last minute and I was here already and…” Kara shrugged casually like stepping in was the obvious thing to do, like kindness was the only option - which Lena didn’t doubt for a second was something Kara genuinely believed. “I like helping out where I can. And I just kept coming back…” Kara explained, clasping her hands behind her back as she took a tentative step closer to Lena, “I was never really sure why until-”

“Hey, babe, you ready to go?” 

Lena’s head snapped round to see Andrea strolling through the doorway, eyes fixed on her phone utterly oblivious to the moment she had just trampled all over. Lena wasn’t sure whether Andrea was naturally such a good cockblock or if she practiced at it - regardless of either option Lena’s sexlife had vanished into thin air since she’d returned to living in the same city as Andrea. (Not that Lena thought that her and Kara were heading that way but Lena had been enjoying the hope of it at least).

“Andrea, you’re early for the first time in.... well, ever…” Lena snarked, rolling her eyes before glancing over to Kara, only to find the blonde had taken a large step away from her and her expression was far more neutral and guarded than it had been only moments before.

“Wait, we weren’t meeting at 4?” Andrea frowned, still not bothering to look up.

“Ah, so you’re not early, you’re over an hour late.” Lena remarked.

“God, you’re such a drama queen…” Andrea sighed, finally lifting her gaze from her phone, her eyes immediately alighting on Kara with undisguised interest. “And who is this?”

“Andrea, this is Kara the model for our life drawing classes.” Lena introduced taking a protective step in front of the blonde, an action that did not go unnoticed by the other two occupants in the room. “Kara, this is my supposed best friend who is regularly trying to lose that title.”

“Oh, best friend?” Kara repeated; the familiar brightness from before returning to her expression as she looked excitedly between the two friends.

“Yes.” Lena answered, smiling shyly at Kara and immediately forgetting Andrea’s existence, let alone presence in the room.

“That’s great.” Kara grinned, blushing a light pink a second later as her hands fidgeted with her keys, “I mean… ummm…. That you have a best friend. My sister is my best friend, though I have other friends. I just mean that… friends are cool.” 

Lena laughed lightly at Kara’s ramble, leaning closer towards the blonde without realising until Andrea appeared at her shoulder looking far too pleased with herself.

“Kara,” Andrea greeted, holding out a hand for the blonde to shake (Lena was comforted to see their handshake was quick, almost professional in comparison to the lingering touch Kara and Lena had shared earlier). “The pleasure is all mine.” Andrea declared, winking surreptitiously at the teacher - Lena instantly dreaded the upcoming girl’s night.

“Nice to meet you.” Kara replied friendly and sincere, before smiling softly at Lena and muttering a hopeful, “I’ll see you next week?” 

“I’ll be here.” Lena reassured, watching as Kara nodded farewell to Andrea and departed, waving on her way out.

“Well…” Andrea murmured mischievously.

“Don’t.” Lena said sharply, holding up a finger to deter whatever torment Andrea had brewing. “Not a word. Not a single word.”

“Ooookay.” Andrea lied.

***

“You okay?” Lena asked tentatively, watching as Kara sluggishly slung her bag over her shoulder the pep to her step nowhere near as present as it had been last week. 

They hadn’t had a chance to talk before the class even though Kara arrived much earlier to help set-up - Lena had been helping a student struggling with deadlines and a sudden crisis of confidence which prevented them from interacting. Despite being occupied, Lena had seen the fatigue weighing heavily on the reporter, saw how her impeccable posture dropped and how her students added weary lines to her expression in their artwork. 

“I think you fell asleep on that stool for ten minutes at some point.” Lena murmured, brow creasing in concern.

“Pfft… what?” Kara reassured with a light-hearted wave of her hand. “Impossible.”

Lena arched an unimpressed eyebrow, “You snore. Quite loudly.”

“Oh…” Kara pouted guiltily, rubbing at the back of her neck, “My sister is going through a rough patch and I stayed up late with her last night.”

Lena’s amusement drained away to be replaced with soft, supportive care, “Is she okay?”

“Yeah, she’s doing better.” Kara replied, blue eyes twinkling at Lena’s inquiry that had them both ducking their heads coyly and sharing furtive glances. “I should get going.” Kara coughed out, though she made no move to leave.

“Or…” Lena began hesitantly, heart fluttering in her chest, “we could go for coffee? You should probably have a coffee before driving,” Lena rationalised, nervously stepping back from the blatant romantic line she was toeing, “you know for safety…”

“For safety.” Kara repeated carefully, blue eyes glowing with warmth, “That sounds wonderful.”

***

It didn’t take them long at all to settle into a comfortable routine.

Kara came early to the life model classes, helping set-up the room as they talked about the students' progress and what Lena was going to make the focus of the class. During the class itself, Lena no longer needed to flit as regularly between her students, they had learned the basic techniques enough to practise for themselves, now only requiring light guidance which allowed Lena time to either do some marking or her own art. Kara posed perfectly throughout, though Lena was becoming more and more aware of Kara’s still gaze on her as the weeks passed by. 

After class, it was now custom for them to grab a coffee and go for a long walk around the university campus as they talked about everything and nothing. They would have been building towards a strong friendship if it wasn’t for the lingering touches, blatant flirts, blushes and wandering gazes. 

Lena wasn’t overly sure why they hadn’t crossed that line, made that final move, but she found she didn’t particularly mind the wait. She was convinced that they had both decided that the journey was making the destination all the more desirable.

It became abundantly apparent, though, that Kara thought differently if their conversation after the class midway through the term was anything to go by.

“So do you not like my body?” Kara asked, quick and fearful, eyes looking down at the sketch Lena had done during class of a vase of flowers in the corner rather than of the readily available model.

“What?” Lena muttered in disbelief looking up sharply from her desk to see Kara paling considerably having clearly not intended to ask the question that she had blurted out.

“I… uh…” Kara squeaked, mouth opening and closing rapidly, before lifting her bare wrist up with a jerky motion and whistling in exaggerated surprise, “Wow, look at the time. I’m late for… uh… this thing. Work thing. Interview! That’s a work thing.”

And just like that she was gone - Lena wouldn’t have been surprised if there was a Kara shaped hole in the studio wall with how fast she disappeared - leaving Lena with a sinking, twisty feeling in the pit of her stomach that told her she might have lost more than her regular coffee with Kara over that one interaction.

***

Lena had Kara’s phone number and they had taken to texting throughout the day; however, since Kara’s panicked question - which probably revealed some deep vulnerability in the blonde - there had been complete and total radio silence. No memes, no cute animal pics, no sweet check ins… Lena’s phone remained silent when it once vibrated with life. 

Lena wanted to text or call Kara the second she had left the studio but Lena didn’t feel like this was a conversation they could have over text, so she waited impatiently for them to be face to face again, counting down the days until the next class. 

Lena even took to repeatedly checking in with the admin office to confirm that Kara hadn’t pulled out of modelling; reaching the stage where Jess, the most senior admin in the team, had taken to emailing her every couple of hours to reassure her that Kara still hadn’t cancelled. 

When Kara appeared, nervously stepping into the art room, fingers playing with the hem of her shirt, it was like Lena could finally breathe easy again. The fear and loss eeking away in an instant, giving Lena the necessary courage to stride forward and bare herself in a way that Kara had been doing every week without Lena fully realising.  

“I don’t like drawing people.” Lena announced, shoving her hands into her pockets to resist the temptation to reach out to the other woman as the blonde blinked at her in surprise, listening intently. “It’s kind of a thing with me.” Lena winced, pushing down all the reasons for why that is. “When I draw something I… kind of let whatever it is into me, let it consume me and it… stays with me for a long time after that. It’s why I draw what I draw. I draw my home because it's a part of me already. Drawing someone means carrying them with me and… that’s scary for me.” Lena breathed, glancing at the blonde to see soft understanding in blue eyes. “I just wanted you to know it’s not you.”

Kara nodded, shuffling closer and dipping her head so that she could whisper into the still space between them, “Thank you.” 

“Right,” Lena murmured, swallowing thickly before jerking a thumb over her shoulder, “I should-”

“Do you want to get dinner?” Kara inquired earnestly causing Lena to freeze in hopeful surprise. “After class, that is?”

“Um… Yes.” Lena replied, nodding her head eagerly.

“Awesome.” Kara grinned brightly.

***

Kara took her to a tucked away italian restaurant that was one of National City’s hidden gems. The food was outstanding and the company was even better.

It wasn’t a date, but it wasn’t just friends going out for dinner either. 

Lena would call it a test-run but that would imply that Lena wasn't already one hundred percent certain that she wanted an actual date with Kara. It was more of a date-appetiser if Lena was going to call it anything, a taste to build interest before the real thing. 

Once they had finished their food, Kara didn’t hesitate to interlace their fingers as they went for an evening stroll around a nearby park, both wishing to prolong their time together.

“Can I see your art?” Kara requested; they had been sitting on a bench in front of a lit-up fountain for the last twenty minutes or so in comfortable silence. Lena had expressed an interest in sketching the fountain and Kara hadn’t hesitated to find them a seat and encourage Lena’s desire without complaint, occupying herself with people-watching in the meantime. 

“I’m pretty sure the images are all over the internet.” Lena replied drolly.

“Yeah, I know it’s just…” Lena’s pencil froze in it’s movements finally noticing how hard Kara was trying to act casual, “what you said about it being a part of you, I thought-”

“You want me to show it to you…” Lena inferred, setting her pencil down and closing her handy sketchbook in an instant. 

“It’s stupid, I’ll-” Kara laughed awkwardly, shaking her head in an attempt to brush over the request like it wasn’t a big deal

“I don’t have many pieces here in National City,” Lena said thoughtfully, getting to her feet and holding out a hand for Kara, “but I have some works in progress that I can show you… if you want that is?”  

“I would love that.” Kara beamed, jumping to her feet as Lena tugged her back towards her campus studio, already picking out her favourite pieces in her mind that she wanted to share with the blonde.

***

Lena and Kara’s ‘friendship’ continued to blossom into something neither could have anticipated that day Kara sprinted into the studio all those weeks ago. The weekly class they shared was now always followed by dinner, taking it in turns to share their favourite cuisines and restaurants. They had also grown beyond only seeing each other on their allotted class day, sharing lunches and movie nights and spontaneous coffees as they learned each other's schedule and needs. 

Lena read all of Kara’s articles and spent many an evening asking countless questions about the background to each of them. Likewise, Kara would appear for coffee with one of Lena’s artworks saved in her phone, burning with curiosity about what had inspired it.

Time spent with Kara flew by and, before Lena knew it, it was the final class prior to spring break. Her last class with Kara until the next school year and Lena was finally ready.

She had finally figured it out.

Why she had waited.

Why she had yet to seize the numerous opportunities to transition her relationship with Kara into a romantic one.

It was because she knew. 

She knew from the second that she had taken Kara’s hand in hers when they first met that this was it. That Kara was it.

And that was, and still is, terrifying. 

When they had first met, Lena hadn’t been ready for Kara. Hadn’t been ready for everything that Kara represented and would come to mean. She had needed the time, the time to lower her guard, to trust and hope. 

And now, she was ready and she knew exactly how to let Kara know.

The class came to an end with Lena giving her students a quick speech on how proud of their progress she was and wishing them a good spring break. Kara lingered behind as was now custom, helping Lena tidy up the area before they headed out together.  

“Kara?” Lena called out nervously, sweaty palms rubbing against her black denim covered thighs as her heart beat thunderously in her chest. “I was wondering…” Lena began, clearing her throat as Kara stopped what she was doing to give Lena her undivided attention. “Can I… can I draw you?”

Kara’s brow instantly furrowed in confusion, “I thought-”

“Yeah…” Lena laughed shyly, staring into deep blue eyes, practically begging for Kara to understand what she was really saying. “Can I?” Lena repeated.

Kara pursed her lips thoughtfully as she studied Lena’s expression - it was then Lena realised that Kara understood exactly why they had been waiting. Kara wasn’t replying because she wanted to check that Lena was sure, was giving Lena a chance to delay, was saying - without really saying it - that she could wait longer.

Lena didn’t take the escape Kara offered, instead she lifted her head higher and arched an eyebrow at the blonde.

A thousand-watt smile of excitement took up residence on Kara’s face as she nodded eagerly, “Of course.” 

“Clothes on.” Lena clarified - she had promised herself that the first time she truly studied Kara’s body it would be in a setting where touching would not break any professional standards. 

***

Lena had Kara sit opposite her in her private studio, their knees pressed tightly against one another providing a warm point of contact to keep them grounded. Lena’s gaze flickered from her sketchpad to Kara’s features; occasionally, she would reach out to adjust a lock of golden hair so it caught the light. Kara, meanwhile, had an ever constant soft smile that didn’t diminish for the entirety of the session even as she was forced to rein in her boundless curiosity to stop herself from sneaking a peek at Lena’s sketch until it was ready to be revealed.

Lena only drew Kara’s head because, though, she had spent countless hours in the presence of Kara’s naked body over the course of the last few weeks - when Lena thought of Kara (really thought about her in the way that made her heart skip), it wasn’t her abs or her biceps that Lena pictured (though she did think about them regularly when she was in her bed alone at night). 

It was Kara’s eyes that Lena thought about most. 

How they were so bright and hopeful whilst simultaneously melancholic and lost.

There were whole galaxies in those blue eyes and Lena knew that she could spend the rest of her life drawing them and never get bored, nor get them exactly right.

“What do you think?” Lena asked, slowly turning her sketchbook round for Kara to see.

It wasn’t finished. It was mere line work that would require further detailing but it was a good start and she hoped Kara could see its potential like she did with everything else in the world - like she did with Lena.

“It’s…” Kara began, licking her lips as she pulled the sketchbook closer to her chest like it was something treasured and infinitely rare. “It's incredible.” Kara breathed, the sincerity of her words undeniable due to how they were accompanied by a watery film to her blue eyes.

“I like your body.” Lena whispered, shattering the companionable silence they had drifted into as Kara admired Lena’s artistry.

“W-w-what?” Kara stammered, head jerking up at the out-of-the-blue declaration.

Lena reached out for the sketchbook, lifting it out of Kara’s hand and placing it on the nearby table so that she could take Kara’s hands in hers. 

“You asked if I liked your body a while ago,” Lena reminded the blonde, “and I just thought you should know that I do. I really, really do. I mean really.” Lena emphasised, glancing appreciatively down at Kara’s body prompting the blonde to blush a pleased pink. “But it's more than just that. It’s become more than that. Talking after class, getting coffee, going for dinner… it's the best part of my week. You’re the best part of my week.”

“Lena-” Kara began, her mouth suddenly snapping shut as her jaw clenched and her chin lifted in determination. Blue eyes studied Lena for a long moment and all Lena could do was hold her breath and wait. 

Lena made Kara wait weeks, she could therefore wait the stretched seconds that Kara needed in return without complaint

Kara got confidently to her feet, tugging Lena up with her, squeezing their hands once before releasing her so that she could reach up to tenderly cup Lena’s face. “I’m going to kiss you now.” Kara declared, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Thank fu-” Lena sighed gratefully, cut off from offering up her thanks by Kara’s perfect lips sliding over hers.

[untouchabyeolman]

DFTF & the gist of everything; a theory

(warning: long post, no cut)

*cracks knuckles* OKAY. so i’m about to give my two cents on the theories surrounding the comeback but this is gonna be a long one so strap in and enjoy the ride i guess??

but before i get started on the DFTF stuff i just want to do a bit of recap on the members’ powers and their counterparts back in mama era (yes i’m going all the way back bear with me). from the beginning, we are shown that each member has a special power and those from exo-k have a counterpart in exo-m and the pairings went like this:

xiumin (frost) - suho (water manipulation)

luhan (telekinesis) - kai (teleportation)

kris (dragon’s flight) - chanyeol (phoenix’s fire)

lay (healing) - baekhyun (light)

chen (lightning) - kyungsoo (enhanced strength/earth?)

tao (time control) - sehun (wind manipulation)

i think these parings are fine but for me a couple of changes could have been made to make more sense to their powers. in my opinion, i think it should be:

xiumin - suho

luhan - sehun

kris - chanyeol

lay - baekhyun

chen - kyungsoo

tao - kai

obviously, xiumin/suho make sense bc their powers are related to each other where suho’s is the foundation of xiumin’s more refined control of the element. kris/chanyeol also makes sense for the same reason. for lay/baekhyun, healing powers can reconstruct damages from wounds and even bring dying flowers (maybe even people) back to their full health. basically, lay restores a living thing’s energy. but light is a form of energy too. flowers need light to survive and so does the rest of the planet for that matter. but i think baekhyun uses that light to be able to concentrate the energy into his hands to form a beam powerful enough to blast anything in its path (who are u? tony stark??). 

tbh, i’m still kind of unclear about ksoo’s power on whether he can actually manipulate earth (like an earthbender) or if he has enhanced strength. either way, he can shake the earth and obviously he’s more powerful on the ground. with lightning, it can travel three ways: cloud to cloud, cloud to air, and cloud to the ground. you can think of their powers as being related by how the fissures in earthquakes are similar to the patterns of lightning. kyungsoo causes the rumbling in the earth, while chen causes rumbling (thunder) in the sky (hence why they are parallels of each other in mama mv)

for those i think should be switched, we’ll start with luhan/sehun. sehun has the power of wind but throughout the history of their powers i don’t think we’ve actually seen him have full control of his ability? in mama, he’s in the desert (this is gonna come up again later!!) with a raging tornado behind him. i mean, i guess he could be doing that intentionally but for the sake of this entry i’m going to assume he can summon the wind but he can’t fully control it. meanwhile, luhan can easily manipulate objects and we could think of this as him just actually manipulating the air around that object. luhan’s control of the air is more stable whilst sehun’s is the opposite. 

for tao/kai i think it makes more sense for them to be counterparts since kai travels through space and while tao’s power is to stop/start time, he has the to potential to travel through time as well. these two go hand in hand because if they’re together, they’d be even stronger as traveling through time could be faulty since the time you might want to go back or forward to isn’t going to be in the same exact location as you are now. 

BUT WAIT! we’re left with 9 members so what happens now?? 

i actually made a “theory” about exo having new counterparts back in 2016 but i’m scrapping the main idea from it and will just be referring to particular points going forward. so for now, let’s go with the assumption that their counterparts are as they are in my version. this means that sehun, chanyeol, and kai no longer have their counterparts. now what?

let’s first make two assumptions: 

their powers become stronger when they are with their counterparts: like i’ve mentioned above, they’re stronger together than they are apart. but additionally, it’s a bit safer for them to be separated since they are much more easily located by the red force if they are all in one place.

if one loses their counterpart (i mean for good and not just separated by distance) then eventually, the power of the one who was lost will manifest itself in the one who is left

for (2), it would make sense then as to why in sehun’s pathcode teaser, he finds the toys floating in mid-air. at this point, he’s unaware that he’s actually the one doing this. (@raven-rin​ points out the similarities between luhan’s scene in mama with the orbs and sehun’s “planet” in the DFTF teaser photo which supports my theory that they are connected in this way). 

in chanyeol’s pathcode teaser, he seems to have lost some control of his power whereas in mama mv, he was able to keep a small flame in his hand under control. 

for kai, we’ve mainly see him teleporting on earth and he’s had quite a good control on his power since the beginning. but i think now, with tao’s power manifesting itself in him, he’s now able to teleport beyond just earth. we can take his mmmh mv for example too where he’s teleporting between worlds and currently, his power symbol is that of a hexagon with a keyhole in the center; he is the door between worlds and the main connection between the others. 

SO THE POINT TO ALL THIS IS there was a theory posted by @vampwrrr​ and pointed out by @loeyarc on twitter about how the members are not in their own planets but they actually landed in someone else’s. i think this could be true since xiumin is in a planet with aurora’s (baekhyun’s planet), kyungsoo is in a red planet that could possibly be chanyeol’s. kai’s might be in kyungsoo’s and baekhyun’s in a planet where there’s ice which could mean he’s in xiumin’s planet. i’m not sure about the power swapping (tho i absolutely love the idea) but i think they might have just landed in planets they were closest to. 

but i want to point out how chanyeol is in a planet that looks like a desert 

now, this could actually be sehun’s planet in parallel to where he was in mama. sehun, on the other hand, is actually in luhan’s planet (going back to the reference @raven-rin​ made). 

i think here, he’ll finally realize why his powers have been glitching (from pathcode) and how he now has the ability to move objects like luhan did (disclaimer 1: since not all members are present for this comeback, who’s to say they can only land in the planets of the active members’ planets??. disclaimer 2: not saying luhan is still member, he clearly isn’t. i meant for members who are enl*sted. for all we know, one or two of those planets could be chen’s or lay’s, etc.)

idk if DFTF is a pre-quel to power or a follow up but *if* the latter was the case, then the end of power makes sense. throughout the mv, we see suho, xiumin, kai, chen, chanyeol, sehun, and kyungsoo fighting the giant red force robot in possibly a different planet (i’m thinking the exos actually banded together to track down the red force themselves to get their powers back and in every planet they encounter these RF bots who keep destroying the planets they occupy) but for most it, baekhyun isn’t there fighting with them. he does show up near the end which confirms that he’s in the same place as the others but why isn’t he fighting?

let’s recall that their powers are stronger when they’re with their counterparts. if we go by the theory from lucky one that some members lost their powers, then it makes sense why none of them were able to fight off the bot with their powers alone (which they regained by defeating it in the end). i do think they are still strong at this point but their powers are weak. as for baekhyun, his counterpart is far away. lay hasn’t really been with them since monster era so he was probably playing it safe by not actively fighting alongside the others. (if he’s powerless and separated from lay then he’s the most vulnerable compared to the others)

at the end of power, we see baekhyun falling into the water/ocean. how did this happen? if exo left the planet they were in in power, it’s possible that after defeating the bot, it triggered the red force of their location. the red force then proceeds to destroy that planet in an attempt to kill exo once and for all

(disclaimer 3: screencap is meant to show an example, not that this is exactly in the same timeline as power)

but the exos manage to escape in their ship in time but their ship malfunctions (could be hit by debris from the planet’s explosion) and they have no choice but to leave the ship. i think their ship has “escape pods” meant for each one of them as a way to escape safely in case of an emergency. but let’s say these pods will immediately head for the planet they were set to (again, kind of like a safety protocol type thing where they get sent to different locations to avoid detection from the red force). to add, say that in the chaos, the exos just went into whatever pod they got to first which is how they end up landing in different planets. 

maybe something happens to baekhyun’s pod and he has to manually eject himself from it. but we see he lands in the middle of an ocean 

and in his DFTF photo teaser, we see he’s in a planet with ice caps and water

you still with me? i’m about to tie everything together and finish i promise!

remember the second assumption we made? “the power of the one who was lost will manifest itself in the one who is left”. what if the red force know this? what if the reason they’ve been after exo is because of this fact? but if that were the case, where would the powers manifest in if the exos are gone? i know the lot of us skip the intro of mama but it states that an eye of red force “coveted the heart of the tree of life and the heart slowly grew dry” which meant that the tree of life is the source of the twelve force’s powers. 

everything started with the tree of life and in an attempt to save its remaining powers, they split it in half and hid the halves from the red force. the power of the tree of life is what connects exo. but as mentioned, if one is lost, the power will continue to live inside another. if the red force destroys all of exo, the powers they possess will be returned to the tree of life and if the tree of life is whole again, the red force will in no doubt abuse its power and continue their plans from the very beginning. 

then we can say that in lucky one, it was another tactic used by the red force to extract their powers. those extracted powers were then used to create x-exo. since x-exo are under the red force’s orders, if they manage to destroy exo, their powers will undoubtedly go to their x-counterparts. but as the red force control’s x-exo they still have the upper hand once this plan is set in stone. i mention this to get us back on the current timeline seeing as DFTF may be strongly connected to power which precedes obsession. but then again, i’m not even sure about the exact order of the timeline but this is just my theory so it’s just for fun!

/end. 

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 9

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language + mentions of sensitive topics Warnings: Referenced past abuse. Does not go into detail. Notes: Longest Serenade chapter yet at 4k+ words! Bit of angst, majority is fluffy fluffer fluff though. Next chapter is maximum h*rny, with two versions depending on reader, uh, equipment. EDIT: Forgot to put title, like dumbass. Past Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne, Pt. 2: Overture, Pt. 3: Accelerando, Pt. 4: Toccata, Pt. 5: Poco a Poco, Pt. 6: Elegy, Pt. 7: Harmony, Pt. 8: Obbligato

Chapter 9: Berceuse

(Berceuse: A lullaby. Generally slow and undulating.)

One moment you’re playing the piano, lovingly demonstrating a song you’d like Daniela to learn, the next you’re blue screening as she places a teasing kiss to your neck. It takes all of your willpower to keep playing, improvising a way to end the song right then and there. Then you’re turning to Daniela, eyes wide, blushing hard. She’s giggling. When she regains her composure, you give her a confused expression.

“I’m pretty sure this is the first time you’ve made real eye contact with me all morning. What gives?” She asked, frowning slightly. Awkwardly rubbing the back of your neck, you avoid her gaze, doing little else than proving her point. This frustrates her, and she lets out an aggravated sigh. I should probably tell her what happened, you think, dreading the idea. Still, the two of you had been making an effort to communicate better. What kind of partner would you be if you didn’t tell her about her mother’s intervention?

“Okay, okay… I wasn’t sure how to bring this up, but if I’m being this obvious about it anyway…” You started, trailing off anxiously. In response, Daniela places one of her hands over yours, giving you a reassuring squeeze. Though your face somehow gets even redder, the action gives you the courage required to continue. “I had another progress update meeting with your mother yesterday. I was worried, since this was the first one where you weren’t present, but I didn’t- I mean, er… Fuck it, she knows you’re interested in me. Doesn’t think we’re already together, thank God, but she told me, and I quote, that my response should be ‘swift and uninterested’. What are-” before you can finish you’re cut off by a loud groan, followed by your girlfriend cradling her head in her hands. Yeah, you think, this is about what I expected.

“Of course she did! I can’t have anything nice,” Daniela snapped, having gone from ten to sixty real quick. You’re just glad that she wasn’t taking it out on the piano. “How would she even know about us? I only stare at you when she’s not looking!” Oh? Since when did she stare at you? Certainly if Lady Dimitrescu had noticed, you would have as well?... Then again, the few times where all three of you were in the same room usually involved you working while they chatted or ate together. Still, the idea of Daniela making heart eyes at you from across the room was enough to make you blush again. “Look, she’s probably making some assumptions. There’s no way she knows as much as she thinks she does, at least not about us. So let’s just be careful- ugh, I sound like Bela- and otherwise keep doing what we do. Alright, songbird?”

“If you’re sure, then so am I. Let’s try to focus on our lesson for now, though,” you replied, doing your best to sound confident. Hoping to add in a little reassurance, you give Daniela a quick peck on the cheek. Unsurprisingly she ‘dodges’, instead kissing you on the lips, but you hardly mind at all. When she pulls back she’s got a huge grin on her face.

“Lesson now, fun later, got it. Speaking of later… You and me, inside the library, right after lunch. I’ll tell mother we’re going over theory and key recognition, but really-” she leans in close, mouth barely an inch from your ear “it’s a date. Don’t worry about getting caught, I’ve already made sure that neither Bela nor Cassandra will interrupt.” Your heart skipped a few beats at her suggestion, and you had to admit… you were beyond excited for this. When was the last time you had gone on an actual date? Years ago, just a month before you left your hometown and moved to the village. That had been a date you’d spend the rest of your life regretting… then again, it was what made you leave in the first place. And if you hadn’t left, you’d have never met Daniela.

Maybe it hadn’t been that bad after all.

————————————

Four minutes past one in the morning, you shuffled nervously towards the library, with note cards in hand. Even if you weren’t really going to help Daniela study, you wanted to be prepared in case you bumped into anyone along the way. After all, this was the night shift, when most of the servants were up and about, accomplishing any tasks deemed ‘too noisy’ to be done while the manor occupants slept. Thankfully, the fact that lunch had just finished meant a fair amount of workers would be busy cleaning up the dining hall. In the end, you only passed one other servant, but it was the only one you hadn’t felt confident about running into: Daphne.

Despite your long-standing friendship (having known each other in the village, and being brought to the castle within the same week), you had yet to tell her about your relationship with Daniela. Which by itself wouldn’t have been too bad, if not for the fact that she could tell you were hiding something from her. This had, understandably, put a damper on your friendship. From her perspective, there was nothing you shouldn’t be able to tell her. Even you weren’t sure if you should be more honest, all things considered. There was no way she’d ever tell someone else about your situation. But if one day you got in trouble for lying to Lady Dimitrescu… and somehow someone figured out that Daphne knew too, well, she’d be just as fucked as you, if not more so. After all, there was a chance that Daniela’s affection for you would lead to a lighter punishment. Not that being exiled into the forest was much better than being flat out killed.

So when you saw Daphne heading towards you, you tried to get by with a simple smile and a brief wave.

“Aren’t you even going to say hi?” Daphne asked, tone stiff but filled with disappointment. It catches you off guard, to the point where you drop your note cards. Immediately you’re squatting down, gathering them up, taking the excuse not to look at your friend. She doesn’t move to assist, instead pausing in the hallway to watch you. “We were supposed to stick together, you know? But it’s like becoming Lady Daniela’s little plaything made you think you’re better than the rest of us. Better than me.” That last part was barely more than a whisper, and you freeze in place, hand still hovering over one of the cards. “I shouldn’t have said anything, it doesn’t matter. Just try not to get yourself killed, alright? I don’t want to be the one to clean up your corpse.”

“Daphne, wait, please!” You said, finally moving to your feet, blocking your friend’s path. When she looks at you, you can just barely make out tears in the corners of her soft blue eyes. “I’m sorry, really. I… I can’t tell you what’s going on because I can’t risk getting you in trouble. You’re my best friend, Daph, and I don’t want anything happening to you just because I was doing something reckless.”

“Do you really think I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you?” Daphne questioned, with a bitter laugh. She’s shaking her head in disbelief, even as you stare at her, shell shocked. “Maybe the others haven’t caught on yet, but I’ve seen the way she looks at you, and I’m not oblivious to the way you talk about her. I figured you’d tell me eventually… It’s been weeks, though. More than that, I mean seriously, don’t you think I’d go down for you in a heartbeat? There was a time where I was sure the two of us would do anything for each other, ride or die when the dying part was a guaranteed end to all of this. Something tells me that’s not the case anymore.” Now she refuses to meet your gaze, instead staring down at what few note cards still lay on the floor.

“That’s still the case, I promise. It’s hard enough to look past what our employers do to strangers. If they hurt you? I’d never dream of forgetting, let alone forgiving them,” you explained. It’s enough to make her look back up, but she’s far from smiling.

“If that’s the case, maybe I’m looking at the wrong signals. But I’ve got to go, and I assume you do too. Take care,” she said, before slipping past you as quickly as she can. Then you’re left to gather the last of your note cards, mind whirling. Cruel as the thought may be, you hoped that this wouldn’t ruin the mood for your date. The best your mind could do to cope was focus on one thing at a time…

————————————

“Are you sure this is safe? I can’t even remember how many times I’ve been told to keep this door shut, under the threat of, you know, losing my life,” you called out, hanging out in the doorway. Beyond you by a few meters was Daniela, who twirled about with laughter, reaching out to catch a few falling leaves. This was the entrance to the garden, as far as you could tell. Not to be confused with the vineyard, which was larger, as well as on a completely different side of the estate. You had never been to either, seeing as only a select few servants were allowed to leave the manor. If Daniela hadn’t made it seem like you’d be staying in the library, well, you probably would have protested a little, regardless of how badly you wanted to go on a real date. Even when you had met up with her, she hadn’t told you any details, just laughing and asking you to follow her.

“Don’t be a baby! We’re still a few weeks away from autumn, and besides, you’re here with me! What could possibly go wrong?” Daniela asked, sending you a cheeky grin before dashing off into the garden proper. For a moment you’re left on the threshold, a picnic basket in your arms, wondering what the season had to do with your safety. Then you sigh, figuring that it couldn’t be that bad. Hadn’t your girlfriend mentioned this to Bela, anyway? Certainly the responsible older sister would have stepped in if something genuinely dangerous had been suggested? Well, you hoped as much, at least. With that in mind you close the door behind you, then dashed towards where Daniela had gone. Even as you round the corner, you don’t see her, and suddenly you’re nervous as hell. Before you can call out to her, the sound of rustling leaves catches your attention. Suddenly something jumps out at you! “Rah! Gotcha, babe!”

Ah, of course it was your girlfriend, clearly pulling a leaf from Cassandra’s book. You playfully smack her arm in response, trying to ignore the way your heart pounded. Humorous intentions aside, she had legitimately scared you, and you had nearly dropped your basket in response. Before you can say as much, Daniela’s hooking her arm in yours so she can pull you further into the gardens.

“You’re lucky you’re so fucking cute, firefly,” you muttered, a tad grumpy now. Most of your irritation was false, however, intended to tease your girlfriend. For a moment she doesn’t seem to realize that, and she stops in place. Once her eyes meet yours she understands what’s going on. Then she’s grinning, sticking her tongue out at you, and continuing down the path. Soon enough you’re approaching a paved brick circle. All around it, minus where it meets the walkway, are various flowers in bloom. Past the flowers are bushes, and past those are trees, whose branches provide a canopy for the circle. “Wow… and I thought you were pretty,” you teased, admiring the view.

As soon as the words leave your mouth, Daniela lets out an offended scoff, before taking the basket from you. Wordlessly she opens it up to grab the blankets within, spreading them without sparing you a glance. Now it’s your turn to wonder whether or not her anger is just a joke. Hoping so, you help her smooth out the blankets, making sure the two of you have ample space to spread out. At one point both of you reach for the basket at the same time, and she just grabs your hand instead, squeezing it. Next thing you know she’s pulling you down onto the blankets, rolling on top of you.

“Come here often?” She asked. Then, unsurprisingly, the two of you kiss. Both of your arms wrap around her waist, holding her as close as you can. One of her hands cups your cheek, the other resting on the ground to support herself, for ‘optimal makeout angles’. It’s a minute of bliss before she has to pull back for air. Instead of pulling away entirely, she shifts down a notch, resting her head against your chest. “Mmm… so comfortable. I could just… fall… asleep…” Daniela murmured, pretending to be sleepy. You can’t help but laugh, chest obviously shaking in as you do. “No! Pillows aren’t supposed to vibrate.”

“Are you sure about that?” You asked, only laughing harder.

“They don’t talk, either,” Daniela replied, huffing as she does. When you keep laughing, she rises to a sitting position, much to your disappointment. “So you have chosen death? So be it. I’ll just eat these candies myself, then.” With that said, she digs into the picnic basket, retrieving a bag of chocolates. Pouting, you reach out to try and yoink one away from her. Rather deftly, she pulls them away, sticking her tongue out at you before tossing a couple in her mouth. Determined, you surge forward, trying to catch her off guard, only to (somehow) end up face down in her lap. “Exactly like I planned, songbird. Now get comfy, alright?”

One of her hands trails fingers through your hair as you semi-awkwardly roll over. Now you’re facing up, watching your girlfriend practically inhale a few pieces of chocolate. But now she seems more inclined to share. She plucks one more from the bag, offering it to you by holding it in front of your mouth. Gladly you open up, and she drops the chocolate, before giving you a small ‘boop’ on the nose. Both of you laugh, then, a sound that sparks warmth in your chest. This was… nice. Relaxing. Not only were the two of you allowed to be as open with your affection as you wanted, it was the first time in ages that you had actually been outside, able to enjoy the sunlight.

Several minutes pass by like this, with Daniela feeding you (and herself) candies, both of you taking time to appreciate the scenery. Eventually the bag of chocolates becomes close to empty, and you see your girlfriend have an ‘oh crap’ moment.

“I was going to save some of these for you to smuggle into your quarters, damn it… guess you’ll just have to refuse to share, babe,” she said, shrugging a little. Then she sets the bag aside, now devoting both of her hands to playing with your hair. “Guess I’ll just have to find something else to keep my tongue occupied. Know any volunteers?”

“Hmm… I would, but it’s reeeaaaaaallllllly comfortable down here,” you teased in reply. Suddenly her hands are taken out of your hair, and you can just barely see that they’re positioned on her hips. She’s pouting at you, very similar to how you’ve seen her mother do, yellow eyes betraying her mischief. What exactly did she have planned?

“Really, songbird? I take you out, give you a wonderful place to rest, hand feed you chocolates… and you won’t even kiss me? When was the last time you even got to do something like this?” She asked, perking an eyebrow. The question is innocent enough. The answer, however, is not. Even with your head in her lap, you cannot fight off the brief sense of panic as your mind flashes into the past. It takes a deep breath, a few blinks, and a reassuring touch from Daniela for you to calm back down. “Songbird?... Hey, hey, it’s okay, I didn’t- I don’t know what happened. But we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, we can just…” She trails off, sounding unsure of herself, and you feel a pang of guilt. Was it finally time to come clean?... Yeah, yeah it was.

“It’s fine, I promise. I just… I need to sit up for this,” you explained, begrudgingly rising out of her lap. But she doesn’t let you pull away entirely, a hand guiding you to sit right up against her. Then she gently wraps an arm around you. Leaning into her touch, you rest your head on her shoulder, closing your eyes for a few seconds. “It’s kind of a long story, firefly… But this has happened often enough that I need to tell you. At least part of it. So, well… When I was younger, I, uh, I read a lot of romance novels, watched a lot of movies. Not even the good ones, really. And I didn’t- I couldn’t think through them. Couldn’t analyze it the way I needed to. So I didn’t get a good grasp of what a healthy relationship looked like. My, uh, my folks weren’t keen on demonstrating one for me, either…

“Before I came to the village, I was, well, uh, the thing is you might not like this part? And you’re not gonna like the next part, either. Just… listen to the end, please,” you pleaded, waiting for an acknowledgment before continuing. “I was engaged, as in to be married, to a woman I had known for most of my life. We were neighbors, and had gone to school together, and everyone thought we were the cutest couple. Hell, for the longest time I thought that. We weren’t, though. She was-” Daniela tenses a bit, though remains silent- “manipulative, sometimes aggressive. Anytime there was an argument, she made herself into the victim, told me that I was crazy. She wanted to make all the decisions about our relationship for me, and I just… I didn’t question it. Not even after she proposed, when my only reason for saying yes was because we were in public, with friends, and she clearly assumed that I’d agree. I tried to tell her that I wasn’t ready, that maybe we were going too fast, but she tuned me out.

“I didn’t even think about running until our final date. That was the first, and the only, time that she ever… that she ever-” a few tears spill from the corners of your eyes- “got physical with me. She’d broken things before, for sure, but I never thought she’d hurt me.” Daniela rubs your back gently, her breathing a little shaky. Evidently she hated hearing about this as much as you hated talking about it. Somehow that made it a little easier to talk through. “The next day she had to work early, so I just packed up my things, went over to my parents’ house and told them what happened. For once they actually agreed, if you can believe it. Told me to get the hell out of town, said that they’d deal with my fiance, and our relatives, so that I didn’t have to worry about anything when I came back. It was less than a full day before I drove away from everything I had ever known, promising my folks that someday I’d be back. Didn’t settle down until half the continent was behind me, not ‘til I was here at the village.”

There were a couple moments of silence as Daniela waited to make sure you had finished talking. Then she’s kissing the top of your head, shaking a little more noticeably now, murmuring reassurances that you can’t quite understand. Again you lean into her touch, indescribably thankful for her comforting presence. Fuck, you think, I probably ruined the date… so much for spending quality time with my lil firefly. When the silence breaks, it does so softly, slowly, a careful opening rather than a forceful push.

“Why would you give me a second chance? After what I did to you?” Daniela asked, voice barely audible, her head still resting atop yours. It’s not the response you expected. Not in the slightest. You pull away slightly, to look her in her eyes, heart aching at the tear stains on her cheeks. Even though you want to give her an answer that will bring her peace, your mind draws little more than a blank. Why had you given her a chance? You had wanted to be with her, without doubt, even before Cassandra and Bela intervened. Even after every time that she reminded you of your past…

“I-I don’t know. Maybe I haven’t learned anything from what’s happened,” you started, uncertainty clear in your tone. “Or maybe it’s because you looked… regretful. You didn’t enjoy what you did, and I saw it in your eyes. And… and then you did something about it. If you hadn’t shown remorse, or if I genuinely believed that you might do something like that again, we wouldn’t be here right now. I mean, in that case your sisters probably would have killed me for turning you down, but that’s not entirely relevant right now, is it?” You’re rambling a little, stuttering over your own words. Still, somehow it makes Daniela laugh, and relief floods your chest. Soon enough you’re curled up against her once more.

“Hey,” she said, after a minute of comfortable silence. “Thank you for showing me what romance is supposed to be.” Then she’s leaning in for a kiss, and you’re responding eagerly, unable to stop yourself from smiling. This time it’s your hand that runs through her hair as you pull her in as close as you can. To your surprise, she does pull away a tad earlier than usual. But there’s a grin on her lips, and she looks satisfied as hell. “Definitely more of that, soon. There’s just one more thing we have to do, to make this date perfect, you know? I may or may not have, kind of, written you something? You’re not allowed to laugh, though!”

“When have I ever laughed at you?” You asked, teasing, literally laughing as you speak. In response, Daniela scowls, making a point to look away in feign protest. “Joking, joking… I’ve just, you know, never had someone write me something before. Kinda don’t know how to react, really. Other than blushing real hard-” which you were doing- “and trying to play off my excitement with humor. But I promise I won’t laugh, even if you start with something like ‘roses are red, violets are blue’ or end with something like ‘just us in bed, doing the do’. Please tell me that’s not what you wrote, though?”

“Now that you mention it, maybe that should be what I recite. Sounds exactly like the sort of thing that would get me laid,” Daniela joked, rolling her eyes at you. Then she’s tugging a loose piece of paper out of the picnic basket, unfolding it to reveal a well-worn surface and hand-written text. She hesitates for a moment, glancing up at you, before taking a deep breath. When she speaks it’s clear just how nervous she is. But with every line she gains a measure of confidence, by the end acting her usual confident self.

Step from the shadows, weary corners of my mind Encased in old thoughts, brought into new life Like ashes rising from tombs housing the divine

Spinning webs as I descend, from the cradle of heaven From the dead I have risen, blessed be the gift I’m given Only from your haunting call do I embrace living

Catching the corners of my lips turning up All my years I’ve felt, but never this much Quietly writhing, begging for your softest touch

The pursuit of unintentional romance left abandoned Whispering love-locked tales to be consumed Sweeter than every facade I have ever imagined

Come closer now, into my arms, heart embraced Trailing fingers over scars, sewing lines traced Tell me love, “we shall last until the end of days”

At first, all you can do in response is stare at her, expression filled with affection. Inside your chest your heart was racing, and you couldn’t remember the last time you felt this warm. Reaching out, you take one of Daniela’s hands in your own, grinning as soon as her gaze meets yours. Both of you are blushing rather hard. Then she sets the poem down, eyes never leaving yours for even a second. You try to stutter out a few words, but find your tongue tied, and so you settle for placing your forehead against hers. The two of you stay like that for a few loving moments. When you part, it is only to come back together, this time in a tight hug.

“One helluva date, yeah?” Daniela asked, looking incredibly proud of herself. You can’t help but nod enthusiastically in response, honestly happier than you had felt in years. “Well, I will have to let you get back to work soon, unfortunately… but we have a few minutes, at least. Besides, having to part will only make tonight all the more sweeter.” At that you pause, confused, tilting your head to the side. Realizing that she must have gotten ahead of herself, Daniela blushes before elaborating. “You, me, my room. Tonight, right after your shift ends.”

You could hardly wait.

[datawyrms]

Half a Decade Late

Valerie was finally promoted to the main headquarters of the Guys in White. There she finally comes face to face with Phantom, who disappeared five years ago, locked in a cell. For Phic Phight 2021, @lexosaurus' prompt!

Nothing proved ’harder workers get ahead’ was only a capitalist lie than the absolute hassle getting promotions within the GIW. Of course she’d gone right to them for employment, it was the only organization large enough to actually pay people that took her resume of ghost hunting seriously. She had experience, actual knowledge and even her own gear but had still spent years getting jerked around to various small operations, basically just using her to train all their useless recruits while still just considering her a ‘fellow’ field agent. It wasn’t like she had the option to quit in protest, no one else was in the market for ghost hunters. As far as most people knew ‘ghost intelligence’ was just a joke cover story that the agents were very attached to. They didn’t want any more Amity Parks, so if she wanted to live somewhere new and still do her job...these guys were it. She’d been very clear, she wanted to be in the main office, where everything happened. That didn’t stop them from constantly assigning her literally anywhere but the actual headquarters. Maybe they finally ran out of other places, she still half expected to get stopped at the door and be told about a new field mission they absolutely needed her on immediately. It didn’t happen. Valerie Grey finally got to clock in as an Ecto Containment Officer at the main branch. Where they kept the strongest creatures, developed the new anti-ghost equipment and did more than just splattering a ghost down to nothing. Sure, she liked a good ghost obliterating, but it got boring after a while. There were only so many ways a ghost could beg for it’s useless afterlife before it became white noise. It didn’t stop any new ones from showing up, or tell her anything new. Just got rid of one pest, permanently. That wouldn’t help explain some ghosts, the powerful ones that showed up again and again. It wouldn’t explain the one that stopped showing up either. There was no way that life ruining ghost just got ‘bored’ and vanished without notice. It was still out there, plotting something. She just knew it in her bones. She had to be ready for it. There were traces of that ghost, hints of his ectosignature that she came across in the field, he was still out there. The GIW was just a means to an end, she didn’t trust them to be ready alone.

Sterile corridors and simplistic signs were expected, but even the break area was doing its best impression of a frozen tundra. Fantastic for morale? Probably not. Made the coffee pot easy to spot, at least. Even if she preferred to avoid the stuff in uniform. It stained too easily, and just made her wish for her red battle suit. She took a cup to at least have an excuse for her scoping out the place, she could pass it off to someone once she got to the containment area. A quick double check that everything was in place at the mirror before heading right back out to the winding halls. She wasn’t going to be late, she didn’t have time for that. Maybe a red tie was against protocol, but no one had been stupid enough to bother her about it yet. Judging from the deferential nods from her latest coworkers, that wouldn’t be changing. No one who worked here couldn’t know who she was. The only Ghost Hunter who got out of Amity Park without getting corrupted by the ectoplasmic monsters. It was a shame, Jack and Maddie Fenton used to be a serious force for humanity. Five years ago they suddenly flipped the script, denouncing their work and calling for peace with unreasonable fiends. Their daughter Jazz likely had something to do with it, but Valerie had her own theories. Danny, her friend and once boyfriend had gone missing around that time. Leverage to ensure the Fenton’s ‘good behaviour?’ The whole thing reeked of ghosts. To think she might have gone the same way. Back then she was actually listening to the pest, starting to really consider them a ‘good’ ghost. Like that was actually possible, when he’d just been playing to emotion and her own desire to give up in fighting a dangerous foe over and over. So much for that. That monster showed it’s true colours, sure enough. Something the GIW never bothered to look into, even as she wrote report after report about the incident, how unlikely it was for the Fentons of all people to change that drastically without constant possession. Not worth the resources, even when it was easy to see what tech was built on the foundations the couple had laid. They were throwing away so much to focus on little outbreaks of ghosts instead of making more of a lasting change. Stupid. That was what the funding was ‘meant’ to go towards, as if helping the Fentons would be less productive than making a slightly different ectogun.

She almost hoped there would be a problem, just to prove this is where she should have always been.Even if it seemed distinctly unlikely. She had to swipe to get into the lab, then yet again to actually get to the cells. Or the ‘vault’, as if the higher ups wanted to pretend the creatures in there were inert materials instead of cunning and dangerous beings. Even though they had someone posted at each door, and someone on guard inside as well, herself today. To get acquainted with the place mostly, she had more than enough training on ‘proper handling’ procedures.

“Hey, you can swap with me today, if you want.”

Valerie blinked, eyebrow already raised at the posted guard’s suggestion. “I can handle watching caged ghosts.”

They had the sense to look embarrassed, taking their hand away from the oversized ectogun to loosen their tie- which was tied rather poorly now that she got a better look at it. “I’m sure you can, it’s just, well.” They wouldn’t stop fidgeting with their tie now, eyes checking that no one was really paying attention to the guards. “H0G02 is awake today. No one likes those days.”

“Then all the more reason to get used to it early.” She didn’t give them time to sputter another excuse, swiping her card and striding past without another look. As if people should be worried about a captive ghost being awake. Maybe some of the people here never got a spine before joining up.

It wasn’t as cold as she expected it to be. Or as dark. It was actually brighter, thanks to the extra row of fluorescent lights. On some level she expected the room to reflect the monsters kept here, a shadowy icebox of a space. Of course it wasn’t. These were defeated creatures under human control, of course their cages would be bright and clean, the air warmed for human comfort. The ghosts might not like it, but why care what they wanted? It wasn’t like there were many to begin with, mostly green oversized vermin with blank red eyes. Most had the sense to cower back as she walked past, but a fair few didn’t even twitch. Calling a ghost of all things lifeless was foolish, but it was the only word coming to mind...she had to focus. She didn’t pity these things. Why so many creatures though? The real dangerous ones, the most monstrous ones were the ones that could play human, the ones that had conniving minds that only worked to cause destruction and terror. These were just feral things, annoying but hardly more impressive than a coyote when you knew what to do. Half of them she’d barely rate above ‘feral cat’. A light near the back flickered. Strange. When it flickered a second time she was already releasing her helmet to pull it on. Not nearly as easy as just willing it on, but at least she could carry it in a pocket without needing to rely on some ghost’s power. Three steps and her gun was ready, not that she expected to need it. Really, she worked on autopilot, legs still moving as she stared at the largest glass cage at the back of the room. Or more accurately, at what was in it.

“Oh, newbie. ‘Sup.” The ghost rasped out, blank green eyes watching the ghost hunter. A teenaged boy with a shock of white hair, a black jumpsuit, but the voice of a seventy year old chain smoker. Just sitting in a painfully bright cell, watching. Not exactly as she remembered him, but close enough.

“You.” The disgust was easy to voice, even as her brain struggled to catch up. He was here? Looking practically exactly as he had when she was still a soft hearted freelancer?

He only gave a sputtering laugh at the aggression. “Me? You’re not that mad about the light, are you? I’m bored, Tie.”

“What are you doing here?” That wasn’t the important question really, she should be more concerned that he apparently was able to manipulate light fixtures from his cell...but she’d been hunting after this ghost for five years. Protocol could go shove itself up the director’s ass.

“Same thing I do every day Tie, being some government property!” His laugh was wrong, not from amusement like she remembered. A desperate cackle that didn’t fool anyone. “You new enough to still have your soul in there?”

“Answer the question, Phantom.”

The smirk slid off the ghost’s face. “Wh’ad you call me? Like I’m only calling you Tie cus the red sticks out, I can call you Shooty if you don’t like it, newbie.”

The response made her insides run cold. It had to be Phantom, and the terrible sense of humour was just like him- but the ghost wasn’t quite right. What was this? It couldn’t be some copy of the ghost kid, could it? “I called you by your name, ghost.”

“Never heard of em.” The ghost crossed his legs and looked away, apparently bored of the person holding a weapon. “What day is it?”

Surely he was playing around. “What do you think your name is, then?”

He didn’t take his attention off the ceiling, looking more bored than anything.“Day first, Tie. Gotta know how much of a head start I’ve got.”

“Like you’re in any position to bargain.”

“Hm? Whatcha gonna do Tie? Let me be unconscious for a few hours? Scary. Day first.”

There was the Phantom she knew, snide and sarcastic when he really had no business being so. “I could do worse than that.”

“Doubt it. You gun grunts gotta listen to the freaks out there, remember?” His shoulders shook with a silent laughter, but it looked more like spasms. “No more mishandling the goods, yeah? Day Tie, comeonnnnnn”

Since when was he so interested in the calendar? Not to mention how weird it was how he kept referring to himself...and pretending he didn’t know his name. “It’s Monday.”

That got his attention, the casual rocking halting as he looked at her again, disturbingly still. “Monday, really?”

“Lying is your thing, not mine.”

He grinned. “I like you Tie, so you’ll probably be fired in like a week. Maybe it’s the red.” The tension left the ghost completely, she hadn’t even noticed how stiffly he’d been sitting until his spine relaxed as his elbows rested on his legs. “Pretty sure I’m H0G02. Least that’s what all your creeps call me.”

There was no way Phantom of all ghosts would call himself ‘H0G02’. He had to be a mimic of some sort, a ghost that modelled himself on the once well known Amity Park menace. “You like me because I told you it was Monday? Seriously?”

“I like the Mondays more than you, if that helps.”

“Not particularly.”

“Sounds like a you problem.” He was watching her again, more curious than anything. She shouldn’t be glad to see a spark of something in those eyes, but he was far less creepy this way.

“What’s so great about Monday? You’re a ghost.” She didn’t really care. She should be asking important questions. She was just...playing along to see if it really was Phantom. That didn’t stop her for being grateful for the helmet.

“Monday is the farthest day away from Friday.”

“Wouldn’t that be Saturday?”

“It hasn’t been Saturday or Sunday for...like four years? Those days don’t exist, I think you humans made ‘em up to prank me.” Phantom shrugged, sounding completely serious. Not even a hint of amusement or a grin. “Pretty good one, all you new guys keep it up.”

He was going to be completely useless if he kept saying nonsense. How could he be useful in finding out what happened to the Fenton’s son if he couldn’t even talk about the days of the week sensibly? “Fine, what’s so bad about Friday then.”

“Ohhhhh, you’re really new, Tie.” the ghost flopped onto his side, bored of sitting up apparently. “You know, the day they keep me around for? That day.” He wasn’t quite still, his right shoulder moving very, very carefully. Hiding something.

She didn’t have the patience for this.“What are you hiding there.”

“Tie has good eyes. Gotta remember that.” Phantom muttered, getting onto his back, a blue shard of ice melting off his arm.

“You don’t really think that some ice would help you out of there?”

“Out?” He looked mystified by the suggestion, but that could more be seeing his face upside down. “That glass doesn’t break for anything, I should know.”

Which didn’t explain why he’d been trying to hide the fact he’d made ice at all. He knew it too, but apparently playing stupid was still one of his favourite tactics. “Knock it off and just answer me.”

Phantom’s frown didn’t change, green eyes staring intently at her helmet as if hoping to see through it. “I could show you why?”

It didn’t sound like a threat. “Sure, why not. It’s gonna be a long day.” If it was? Then she’d show him that she wasn’t someone he could mess with.

Ice wrapped itself around the ghost’s lower arm alarmingly quick, a wickedly sharp blade of ice with serrated teeth jutting from the scrawny arm at an awkward angle. It was practised, something this ghost must have done often in all the time he’d been gone from her life. Yet it was so different from how Phantom usually chose to fight. That was a weapon to tear and maim, not to shock, stun or bruise. It looked wrong on him. The idea that this ghost wasn’t Phantom at all only grew more credible with that thing on his arm, even if ice powers were to be expected. His eyes flicked back to green, still fixated on her as he lifted the arm and stabbed down hard. Right into his other arm. Didn’t even blink.

“What are you doing!” She couldn’t remember the last time Phantom had ever been frightening on some primal level. This- with the disturbing snap of bone as the edges of the blade caught and tore made her hair stand on end. “Stop that, Phantom. What’s wrong with you!?”

“Cancelling Friday.” Phantom was laughing as the blade melted away into the pool of green rapidly spreading from his self inflicted wound. “I said you’d probably get fired Tie.”

“Forget Friday you idiot, cover the wound so you stop splattering everywhere!” He was just a ghost-a ghost messing with her. A ghost she’d fought with and had heard scream in pain. This...thing wasn’t him. Her heart didn’t care what her mind thought, insisting he needed help.

The ghost sat up, his left arm holding on by a shred of his suit before splattering into the puddle, but the left behind stump stopped dripping almost as quickly as he’d lost the limb. “Aw. Maybe Tie does have some soul left. You actually sound worried.”

“Of course I am! You slashed your arm off!”

“So?”

He didn’t seem to be in pain. If it wasn’t for the mess of green and the lack of a limb, she’d almost say she imagined it. Why did she care? “You wouldn’t do this sort of thing.”

“Uh. Yes I would? You just saw me do it. I’m down for an encore.”

The idea just made her feel ill. “Don’t.” Did she want this to be Phantom or not? “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Well I’m down an arm. So the coats are going to be very whiny about how much ectoplasm they can get out of me.”

“You must have felt that.”

“Sure. Isn’t nearly as bad as when they start ripping as much ectoplasm as they can out of you. Every single Friday.” He actually rolled his eyes, like she should just know this.

Why did they bother keeping Phantom around if they just wanted ectoplasm? He might be strong, but no ghost had limitless amounts. They’d just fall apart and stop existing. That’s why the weakest ones never even left the Ghost Zone, they couldn’t survive without constantly being around the stuff! “What makes you so special then? Not your attitude.”

“I’m just lucky enough to make my own ectoplasm. Who knew food was easier to get then high grade ectoplasm? Not me.” His remaining arm pointed to her weapon, his smile stretching. “Bet ya your weapon’s fully powered from Fridays. Yours and every other thing they use in this hellhole.”

“Ghosts can’t do that.” The lie was absurd. It went against everything they knew about ghosts, even before food entered the equation.

“Y’know, Tie. I think I knew a ghost hunter that wore red once.” the ghost’s eyes went unfocused, unmoving as he looked listlessly into space. “It’s a good colour.”

“You knew me. Quit fooling around with this not remembering crap.” Valerie threw her helmet aside, no longer caring. She had to know who this ghost really was. She had to know if everything he was blathering about was a lie. So what if it wasn’t ‘safe’.

His eyes didn’t change. “Y’know how hard it is to remake a brain? Cut me some slack Tie…”

“I mean it. Look at me Phantom. If you’re the ghost I know, you can stop pretending to be something else.”

“You lose the details. Arms and legs are easy. The brain though? Way too hard.” He kept rambling to himself, not reacting even as she put a hand to the glass to get his attention. “Y’know how many times they’ve cut it open? I don’t. I lose track after like. Eleven. Maybe. Pointy Shoe said my best was fifteen but I sure don’t remember that.”

She wanted him to just stop talking. She wanted this ghost to be some strange creature she didn’t know. To not have the only possible link to someone long lost a shattered husk. “Phantom. Do you remember the hunter in red’s name?”

He finally blinked. “I’m not this Phantom guy, Tie.”

“Okay, whatever, forget that part. The ghost hunter in red, what do you remember?” She insisted, knocking again in hopes it would keep the ghost’s focus.

“Wish I’d told em something.” he held up his gloved hand as she opened her mouth to speak. “Don’t remember what that something was, don’t ask.”

So he was Phantom? He couldn’t be. That was so non-specific it could be anything. “You never explained how you’re the only ghost that can make their own ectoplasm.”

“It’s in my name Tie! Come on. Thought you guys were smart or whatever.” He did a very awkward one armed attempt at crossing it, eyebrow raised. “The H? The feeding a ghost food thing?”

She didn’t really get the whole naming scheme they used here. The fact it mattered wasn’t making her gut unclench either. “What about the H?

“Hybrid? Might have been Human. That might have been a joke.”

Valarie’s mouth was drier than any desert when he said it that easily, that casualty while kicking his own arm aside. “You’re saying you aren’t all ghost.”

“Yup. Not yet! Trust me, I’ve tried,” the bubbly high pitched laugher clawed out of the ghost at that. “I tried so much. Guess it’s another thing I’m a failure at, eh Tie?”

Something told her not to ask. She had to know. Five years she waited, five years apparently knocked Phantom clear from reality.“Does Danny Fenton mean anything to you?”

He just laughed harder at the question. “Really Tie?”

“Yes, really.”

“That’s the name I scream at em. Don’t know why. Feels good though.”

“Is it your name?” Had he had contact with Danny? Been part of whatever made him go missing from everyone’s lives? He couldn’t be, there was no way.

“They get reallllll angry when I say it is.”

There was no way the GIW had a human captive for five years. There was no way Phantom could be the Danny she knew. The ghost was just lying. He had to be, she desperately needed him to be. “Were you fused with a human or something? Got stuck when possessing someone?”

“Nah. Been like this before I got here, pretty sure. You can check your fancy gear though. There’s some non-ghost DNA in it. Lucky lucky me,” he lay back down in the mess of ectoplasm, ignoring how it clung to his hair. “Thanks for the Friday off! I hate those.”

There was no reason to need air. Talking to a ghost she didn’t even like shouldn’t make her feel like she was being crushed under a boulder. Panting for air, outside the room would make her look pathetic and weak, but she needed the space, needed to be away from that...mockery of a ghost.

“He does that to everyone. He’ll repeat the whole thing in a week or so, but he’s a really good copy the first time you see it.” The guard gave a comforting word, apparently unsurprised by her sudden unscheduled departure.

Oh, there would be no ‘next time.’ Not if he was right about her weapon. But she nodded instead, letting her ‘coworker’ think she was just overwhelmed. Even if all she could think of was how many ways this place would burn if that ghost- that thing had been a human once. She was good at telling when ghosts lied. Phantom didn’t sound like he had. No matter how much she tried to convince herself he did.

[imkylotrash]

Tiny Riot

Pairing: Sky x reader

Requests: I was wondering if you could do a soulmate imagine for Sky? Anonymous And Could you please make an angst/fluff Sky x Reader imagine? Anonymous And A cute sky imagine where him and the reader cuddle. Anonymous

You share a unique tattoo with whoever is your soulmate. Of course, this means people drawing their own “tattoo” on to match the person of their dreams. You try to excuse them by thinking of the desperation some people must feel to find their one true love. You have the pleasure of knowing exactly who your soulmate is because you saw his tattoo on the first day of school when he stretched after a workout and his shirt slid up to reveal the anchor on his lower hip. It’s just that you think he’s sort of a jerk so you refuse to act on it. You won’t fall prey to this idea that the universe decides who you can and cannot love. So, you date. You date everyone you can find who’s willing to test your theory that you can create love without caring about a silly tattoo but no feelings develop.

“This is not working,” you tell yet another guy that’s been your test subject for the past two weeks. You don’t want to admit that perhaps the tattoo could be a real thing because that means you end up with Sky. The obnoxious specialist who cares way too much about his hair and not enough about how to treat people. You see him date Stella who most definitely is not his soulmate but apparently, neither of them cares. 

“I thought things were going pretty good,” he smirks trying to pull you in and as a result bringing you back to the present. You push him away trying not to care about the hurt in his eyes. 

“I said we’re done.” You get up and leave feeling the frustration hitting you once again. Why is it so hard to find someone that isn’t meant to be your soulmate? It’s a rhetorical question by the way. All around you people are showing their tattoos to random people in the hopes of finding the one they’re supposed to love for the rest of their lives while your anchor is hidden under three layers of foundation. Four months pass before you slip up. You’re during a speed round of fighting in the ring. Two people in the ring, one punch sends you to the back of the line to wait your turn. If you block, the fight continues. You’re a sweaty mess after an hour and you don’t think twice about wiping your forehead with your wrist. The foundation comes right off leaving your tattoo exposed. It’s not fair that you’ve gotten yours in the most obvious place. 

“Would you look at that? Ready to lose?” Someone somewhere in the universe is playing a cruel joke on you. Sky is standing opposite you puffing up his chest after Stella cheered him on. There’s no way in hell you’re losing to him - all worry concerning your tattoo forgotten. The bell goes off and you successfully block every punch he throws at you. 

“Give me a real challenge,” you say deliberately provoking him to rush his punch allowing you easy access to the ribs. 

“Hey, what is that?” He doesn’t care about losing anymore but you’re standing completely still from pure shock. How could you be so careless? Months of work thrown into the bin because you just had to win. 

“Nothing,” you say hiding your hand behind your back. 

“Is that an anchor?” he insists stepping towards you. 

“No. It’s a clover. Totally not the same thing.” You rush inside hoping you’ll be able to lose him in the sea of students flooding out from the classrooms. You’ll be damned if you fall into the trap of believing the idiotic notion that sharing a tattoo means you must love each other. Eventually, he does find you though. 

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he says sitting down next to you. You’re not even going to try and run. You’ve been running all day trying to avoid him and still, he seemed to be everywhere you went. 

“And now you found me.” You rub your tattoo - a habit you’ve picked up lately as a sign of your nervousness. 

“I guess we share a tattoo.” You feel the cool air send a shiver down your spine. 

“I guess we do. But I’m not going to date you for that reason.” 

“You don’t even know me.” And I don’t want to. Though you can’t make yourself say that. It’s like your mind is purposely trying to keep you from hurting him. 

“How about this? Give me 1 hour and if I haven’t convinced you that I’m actually a decent human being then I’ll never bother you again.” You’re saying yes before you even have a chance to think about it. You don’t consider Stella who’s probably pretty upset about this turn of events or the fact that you’ve sworn not to give him the time of day. Apparently, you’re not thinking with your brain anymore. Three hours pass before you notice the time. 

“I should go inside.” You don’t move though. You want to deny the truth but he actually seems like a nice guy. It’s crazy how different your perspective can be depending on the situation. Watching him with his friends, he seems like a cocky idiot but with you he’s so different. He’s down to earth, calm and the best part is he’s not trying to impress you with crazy stories of his heroic acts or anything. He’s just Sky who likes to talk about music and once in a while mention a few books that really resonated with him. 

“You know what I’ve always wanted to do?” he asks completely disregarding what you just said. You shake your head no waiting for him to explain.

“I’ve always wanted to sleep under the open sky.” 

“Are you crazy? We’ll freeze to death.” It’s probably a bit of an exaggeration but you’ll definitely freeze. He opens his jacket and looks at you. 

“It’s pretty warm if you stay close.” You’re screaming to run far away and ignore just how good he looks right now, but your body isn’t listening. Instead, you cuddle up with him wrapping the jacket tightly around you. That night you stay awake talking about everything and nothing wrapped up in each other’s arms. By sunrise, you know you won’t be able to go back to avoiding him. Your riot has failed. 

“Why did you ignore me at first?” Sky asks and you can’t help but laugh. 

“I wanted to prove that we weren’t bound by who the universe thought we belonged to. I’m my own person.” 

“You can be your own person and still be meant for someone. One doesn’t exclude the other,” Sky reasons and regrettably, you have to agree. 

“How do you feel about me now?” he asks. You don’t bother responding instead just leaning in and doing what you’ve been wanting to do for the past few hours. He’s taken by surprise but once he catches up, he’s quick to deepen the kiss. 

“I guess pretty good,” he chuckles once you break apart. You can’t hide the smile on your face even if you wanted to. He gently traces the shape of your anchor which has an oddly relaxing effect on you. 

“So, you believe in soulmates now? I convinced you?” he asks with a smile. 

“You definitely made a good argument for your case.”

[hawkwhore]

Rebound - Hawk X Female!Reader

taking place some time after his breakup with moon, (probably end of S3 era after his redemption) he starts to develop feelings for y/n, but he isn’t sure if he’s ready for another relationship after what happened with moon. this results in constant disguised flirting to avoid commitment, leaving y/n confused on if he likes her, or is just joking around.

p.s. thank you guys so much for 100 followers!! :) i decided that im gonna make a hawk imagine as a thank you since i’ve been thinking about doing it for awhile. im so scared to post this bye.

words; 2,444

includes; light swearing, angst, fluff

It had gotten to a point, that it was almost bothersome. Bothersome, the way he would talk to you, and pretend like it was nothing.

“Hey gorgeous,” he greeted you as you sat down at Hawk’s lunch table. Your friends smirked and you rolled your eyes, trying to repress a smile. He did this all too often, making comments that shouldn’t be made unless it meant something more.

“Hi.” You sat down awkwardly, never knowing how to respond to his uncomfortable remarks. Not that you exactly minded them, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a bit of a thing for Hawk. But what you didn’t like, however, was not being able to tell if his comments were serious, or just another way to amuse himself over your reactions.

“So, we were just talking about the next All Valley. You’re coming to watch, right?” Hawk asked you as he bit into his food. You were never really into actually taking these karate classes, but you were a supportive friend to the group and always came to watch them fight. “Yeah, of course.”

“I still think you should join the dojo and fight with us, Y/N.” Miguel said hopefully and you smiled at him, preparing to reject the idea again. “Yeah, plus, you’d look pretty hot in the uniform, right guys?” Hawk joked, looking to the table for agreement. You let out a sigh of disappointment at the comment, laughing it off as the rest of the group agreed.

“Yeah, not happening.” You said while grinning, shutting the idea down for the millionth time. Hawk frowned. “You’re lame.” He stuck out a finger from behind the sandwich he was holding to point a finger at you. “Oh well. Looks like you guys will have to find another way to spend more time with me.” You joked, and gave a shrug of your shoulders to your friends.

You had thought, this would have been a good opening for Hawk to say something like ‘You’re right, do you wanna go out with me this weekend?’ but of course, he didn’t say that. He didn’t say anything, really. The conversation just went on.

It made no sense to you why he acted the way he did, but never made a move. It was truly infuriating at times. Eventually the bell rang, and you all parted for the second half of your classes. You wouldn’t see Hawk again until your last period, which was both upsetting and a relief for you at the same time. He’s just so unpredictable.

There had even been times you’d called him out on his behavior, like when you all went out to Golf N’ Stuff and he practically acted like you two were a couple the whole night. He was complimenting you, putting his arm around you, and it prompted you to quite literally say, ‘If you actually like me that much why haven’t you asked me out?’ In a taunting tone towards him, wanting to see what he’d do.

For the first time in a long time, he’d seemed intimidated. He retracted his arm from you even, and after a moment’s silence regained his usual composure to spout a “You wish,” and laugh it off. It hurt your feelings a little, honestly. Was he just using you for the comfort without the obligation? Could it have easily been anyone else besides you? You were determined to find out, but you’ve just been stuck playing the long game.

It was later that day when you reached your final class that more unsurprising events from Hawk occurred. You had been sitting in the general center area of the classroom when Hawk walked in, and he shot a wink your way as he took his usual seat behind you.

“Hey,” he greeted. You turned around to face him, noticing once again how cute he looked in his red hoodie that you wish was yours, and replied nonchalantly. “Hey, how was bio?” You asked him. The teacher wasn’t here yet, so you were thankfully able to converse without being yelled at.

“It was wild,” he started, and his eyes lit up while his mouth curled into a devious smile. “We actually dissected some shit today. Just completely ripped the frog’s guts apart.” He spoke, feeling accomplished. “Totally badass.”

You mimicked the way a person would vomit, exclaiming how disgusting that story was. “And that is exactly why I am not taking biology.” You said while giggling.

He rolled his eyes playfully, but watched you intently as you laughed. He didn’t say anything at first, just smiled softly. “I love your laugh, it’s so cute.” There it is. Except this time it seemed a little more sincere than a harmless flirtation. Too bad that you know that’s all it really is, though.

You furrowed your eyebrows at him in a confused look at his compliment like you always do, and turned back to the front of the class when you realized the teacher had just arrived.

It can’t be that he’s scared to ask you out in some sort of fear of rejection, because you’ve made it pretty clear how you feel many times before. When it first started, you tried to reciprocate the things he did and said. But every time you tried, he brushed you off and made you feel like he didn’t want that. So, what, he could flirt with you, but you couldn’t flirt with him? How is that fair?

You considered these thoughts throughout class, and it was starting to frustrate you. Seriously, how is that fair?

You had become so focused on these thoughts, in fact, that you didn’t notice when the teacher had called on you. “Y/N,” Hawk shook your arm from behind you trying to get your attention back onto the class, and you whipped your head up. “Yeah, sorry.”

When class was over and you headed out of the room, Hawk was close to follow behind and pull you to the side before you got too far. “Hey are we still on for tonight?” He asked confidently, referring to your plan to watch the new WandaVision episode together at his house after school. You would’ve been nervous about this, but luckily Demetri was coming, so it shouldn’t be too awful.

“Yeah, duh,” you said while walking towards the exit with him. When you reached his car, you looked around. “Where’s Demetri?” You questioned, as Hawk started getting in the drivers’ seat. “He didn’t tell you he wasn’t coming?” He said boredly. Suddenly you felt tense, but you masked that with a look of annoyance. Figures.

“Ugh, what? No? He’s annoying. Why not?” You complained as you got in the car, no longer waiting for Demetri to show up. “Family dinner, I think?” He responded, while you buckled in your seatbelt and checked your makeup in the little mirror.

“Okay, well, his loss I guess.” You tried to hide your anxiousness about the fact you two were now going to be alone together at his house, with continued annoyance about Demetri’s cancellation.

“Yeah definitely, what loser would pass up an entire hour of sitting next to you?” He commented smugly, trying to lighten the mood. “Half-hour.” You corrected, turning your head away and ignoring the flirtatious intention of the comment.

You shook off the unexpected change of plan and suggested some music, to which Hawk agreed. You both terribly sang along to a few songs while chatting about WandaVision theories until you got to his house, and went inside.

“So what was that in class today?” As you two were walking upstairs to his room, he asked you this almost through a bit of laughter. “What do you mean?” You looked for clarification, hoping he didn’t mean what you thought he did. “You never lose focus in class.” He confirmed.

“Yeah I don’t know! Just zoned out I guess.” You tried to explain without giving him the details on the thoughts that caused your zoning out, thankful for not having to be in direct eye contact with him as you answered while walking inside his room.

Unfortunately, this answer was not good enough for Hawk. “Bullshit! What were you thinking about?” He encouraged lightheartedly, assuming this topic of conversation wouldn’t be anything deep. How wrong he was.

You sat down on his bed and he did the same, and you tried to think of what to say next. At your silence he continued, “You were probably thinking about how hot I am, huh?” You lightly smacked his arm and let out a breath of defeat.

“I don’t wanna kill the vibe by talking about this. I just wanna see Evan Peters in the next episode.” You tried changing the topic by making a joke, but he didn’t budge.

“Dude, what is it? Seriously you can talk to me.” He looked at you sincerely and moved a little closer, detecting this might be more serious than he thought. As annoyed as you were that he wouldn’t give this up, your heart melted a bit at this action.

Then, that heart started beating incredibly fast when you realized what you were now going to have to admit to him. It’s fine, you told yourself, you’ve been wanting to get this off your chest for ages, so just do it.

“Do you like me?” You blurted out.

That is not how you intended to start this conversation at all.

The smirk that was always planted on Hawk’s face immediately fell, and he suddenly looked nervous. “What?” He asked, trying to avoid answering.

Lucky for him, you had more to say.

“All you do, every time I see you, is make flirtatious comments towards me, and it’s weird. It wouldn’t be weird if you actually meant them, but you had plenty of chances to act on it and you haven’t, so at this point I’m wondering if you’re just using me as some sort of fun rebound to mess with and you don’t even like me at all, especially since whenever I tried to flirt back you brushed it off and acted like I was an idiot for doing that, so if you don’t actually like me I’d appreciate if you stopped doing what you’re doing because it’s confusing and I don’t know how to act around you anymore.”

You hesitated for a moment after your very passionate speech, and finished with, “That.. is what I was thinking about during class.”

You looked up at him anxiously and saw an expression of hurt and guilt on his face, and he gulped harshly at the realization that it was his turn to talk.

“You’re not a rebound.” He spoke softly, avoiding eye contact, almost reverting back to his Eli persona. You felt a glimpse of hope at this, but waited for him to continue, fidgeting with the ends of your shirt’s sleeves in impatience.

“And I’m sorry I made you feel like that was even a possibility.” He said louder, slowly regaining his confidence in his words. “I’ve been nervous, after Moon, about getting into another relationship.” He admitted to you, finally looking into your eyes.

Now that he wasn’t as nervous anymore to explain himself, suddenly you were. Where was this going?

“I didn’t want to commit to anything, I was..” He took a breath, as if ashamed to say it, “Scared.” He looked down, avoiding your gaze again, but continued. “I just didn’t want to screw up the same way I did before, and grow a relationship like that just for it to end so soon.”

“So you thought you’d just flirt with whoever was around to compensate your need for love?” You interrupted harshly. You felt a little bad, but you were still angry, and insecure.. and it still sounded like a rebound.

But all your thoughts of self-doubt went out the window when he took your hands in his. “No!” Hawk said, almost shouting in disbelief at you. “I like you a lot, Y/N. I just didn’t know what to do about it. I didn’t want to make things serious and get hurt again, or even worse I do something stupid and hurt you. But I guess my attempt at ‘liking you from a distance’—“ He put emphasis on those words, as though making fun of his own phrasing. “—ended up being stupid and hurt you anyways. And I’m really sorry for that.”

Hawk poured his heart out to you, and you were in shock. You don’t think you’d ever seen him so vulnerable before. You couldn’t think of anything else to say, so you did something you thought you’d never do.

You kissed him.

His short look of confusion as you leaned in quickly faded when he realized, and he happily accepted the kiss. He moved his hand to hold your face, his other one on your waist, and you lightly rested your hands on his chest. A sense of relief washed over you, finally understanding what was going through his head all this time. Before the kiss could deepen, you parted from him to say something.

“I understand,” You moved your arms up a little, wrapping them around his neck while talking, and he held your waist loosely. “But I hope you know that we don’t have to be like you and Moon. You’ve changed so much since then. And I believe in us. I want to be with you.”

You stared into his eyes intensely, hoping he would say exactly what you’ve been wanting him to say to you for months.

His puppy dog expression broke into a huge smile, and he nodded. “Yeah, I want to be with you too.” He leaned in again, much more confidently this time, and kissed you deeply.

He kept his hold on your waist tight, and your lips continued to move together as your hands grasped onto the back of his neck. He leaned forwards slightly and moved his hand to hold your jaw, but accidentally broke the kiss from a smile he couldn’t manage to suppress.

You giggled at this, giving him another quick peck on the lips before turning yourself towards the TV. “So, WandaVision?” You reminded him, laughing to yourself a bit at how things escalated.

“Oh, right,” Hawk hesitated, looking at you for another second. “Fine.” He gave up the idea of kissing you more, and searched for the remote.

“I guess we should be glad Demetri didn’t come after all.” Hawk smiled slyly as he picked up the remote, and cuddled up next to you on the bed.

You laughed, and curled up close to him as he turned on the show. “Yeah, definitely.”

———————————————————————

ok hi i hope this wasn’t terrible i’ve basically never written a fanfic before but if y’all liked it you can send me requests??

also random thought i got uncomfy just writing them kissing even though i read intensely nsfw fanfics on the daily so idk why that happened but anyways. LMFAOOO

bye thank u for 100 followers excuse me while i hibernate because this post is embarrassing

[i-turned-the-emperor-to-dust]

EPHEMERAL REACTION

THINGS I LOVED ABOUT EPHEMERAL

1.    Getting to see Adrien happy for 5 minutes

2.    Marinette confiding to Luka about secrets

3.    Plagg’s willingness to cataclysm Gabriel

4.    Cosmo/Astro transformations!

5.    Adrien meowing “Chatrathoustra”

THINGS I DIDN’T LOVE ABOUT EPHEMERAL

1.    Marinette not telling Chat Noir the truth about the reveal

2.    For a 100th episode, nothing “new” happens

3.    It’s a poor rehashing of Chat Blanc, and invalidates it

4.    Marinette’s reasons for revealing herself: “She’s not ready”

5.    The writing continues to be inconsistent and all over the place

(I may try to edit this tomorrow after work, once I’ve slept lol)

Maybe I’m the only one who feels this way, but after finishing Ephemeral, I struggled to understand why I was so bothered and annoyed. Truth be told, I didn’t have very high expectations going in, since it was already revealed to be a What If scenario. However, in the very least, I expected not to hate it and was excited to walk away with some amazing scenes for future music videos (the directing was nice, and I love how the reveals were shot). And since Adrinette is my favorite part of the love-square, I should have been thrilled with these results…

However, here I am, writing what amounts to a lengthy essay. These are just my observations/opinions, so please don’t get offended. This was me struggling to understand why I was so disappointed with this episode while everyone else apparently loved it.

I absolutely HATE that Ladybug tricked Chat Noir into revealing his identity. Why couldn’t she just be honest? Why couldn’t she tell him what was happening and have Viperion out in the open? Why did she have to hide yet ANOTHER thing from him? He would’ve understood, and the outcome still would have been the same. It’s just sneaky, selfish, and unnecessary. Marinette really disappointed me this episode… or should I say, the way the writers depicted her, disappointed me. I’m normally quick to jump to her defense, but in this situation, I just can’t understand where she’s coming from. Why outright LIE? What happened to “us against the world?”

This was the 100th episode. Shouldn’t something MAJOR have happened? Even in a What If scenario - hell, ESPECIALLY in a What If scenario - there are no limits, there’s SO MUCH information they can tease or play around with. We could have seen how Alix got the bunny miraculous! More about the Graham de Vanily Twin rings! Another character from the future could have appeared – one of their future kids, even! Felix or Lila could have discovered HM’s identity first - heck, ANY character could have made that discovery besides Adrien, and it would have been new and exciting. To be fair, I was hoping the “twist” would be Felix discovering HM’s secret, not Adrien… but as usual, I was giving the writers far too much credit. In the end, really, what were we given instead? Nothing new:

We’re told (again) why they can’t be together, only this time, instead of the world ending at Chat Blanc’s hands, it’s by Shadow Moth’s. And sure, the universe ripping apart is interesting… but that’s still just another way of saying their love leads to “the end of the world” and we already saw proof of that in Chat Blanc. And since we already know that the wish being granted leads to devastating results, this is interesting but not completely unexpected.

 Viperion now has a real reason to keep their identities secret… even though he was doing that even before this episode lol. In fact, this entire craziness could have been avoided if he’d just admitted he already knew Chat Noir’s identity. I don’t understand why he’s purposely withholding that information from her – it’s very “snake-like” which, oddly enough, feels out of character for him.

 The Sentimonster theory is already rumored to be revealed in the episode Gabriel, so either those twirly-ring moments were just further confirming what we’ll already know - or they were just dropping MORE hints to tease and frighten us. (Another waste of an important plot point/reveal).

Did we SERIOUSLY need to revisit the whole Marinette-knows-better-than-Su Han thing when we already tackled that back in Furious Fu!?! Why have him show up twice this season when he’s not going to serve any real purpose either time?? They honestly couldn’t think of a better reason for Marinette needing to discover Chat’s identity?

At its core, this is nothing but Chat Blanc 2.0. Strip away the cuteness, and all we have is another fake reveal from both sides, and Adrien (again) learning that his father is Hawkmoth. However, while Chat Blanc managed to give us - and Marinette - some new and valuable information: Namely, that Marinette and Adrien can’t know each other’s identities because it will somehow lead to the end of the world. Why is there suddenly no mention of this catastrophic outcome in Ephemeral? Why are they regressing, and using the same lame excuse they used back in season 1 and 2?? “Oh, it’s too dangerous. If one of us was captured…” With that lame excuse, then Alya, Luka, and Su-Han knowing her identity is every bit as dangerous as Chat knowing! So why is it okay for them to know, but not him? Why not just give us the reason they originally did - the one that made sense? That Chat knowing her identity is what leads to the end the world?? THOSE are stakes. THAT is logic I can get behind!! If they were going to go to the trouble of ripping-off Chat Blanc, then they should have at least worked at not INVALIDATING it!! It’s like nothing in that episode mattered after all.

Why did Marinette suddenly struggle to connect Adrien with Chat? There he is, being sweet and sincere, honest and brave… and she “needs a moment?” In Chat Blanc, she didn’t have such an internal crisis… there, after his reveal, all she did was fall into his arms. At this point in the series, I feel like she’s past the point where she’d struggle so much – maybe in season 1 or 2, it would make sense, but she’s already been shown to accept this other side of him (Chat Blanc/Oblivio) and since she’s been steadily thawing towards her partner, I HATE that this internal struggle is the main focus of the episode. She’s allowed to have doubts, sure, but not when it invalidates the entire purpose of Chat Blanc; namely, why they can’t be together in the first place.

This, then, is my real issue: Even if this internal struggle DID make sense, it STILL shouldn’t have led to a different outcome. Because even IF Marinette’s able to see Chat/Adrien as the same person, she STILL shouldn’t reveal her identity, not if she’s following Chat Blanc logic since she’s SUPPOSED to know that it will lead to the end of the world! Instead, we’re shown Marinette struggling with her own inevitable reveal, not because she’s afraid of the outcome, but because she’s just “not ready.” To fix this, all she would’ve needed to say is, “Bunnix didn’t show up, so it must be fine!” or something along those lines. Just, acknowledge the elephant in the room; don’t gloss over it or pretend it doesn’t exist. So why is there no mention of those consequences when it’s such an easy thing to include? Why is it only addressed at the end after she’s put Su-Han back in his place?? Logically, it’s the exact same outcome she should have expected since it already happened in Chat Blanc…

It’s like the writers don’t even try anymore. I couldn’t help but think they were so proud of the reception they got with Chat Blanc, they were like, “Hey, let’s just do it again. Only, THIS time, they’ll solve it with Sass/Viperion instead of Bunnix! And Marinette will struggle to reveal herself because her feelings for Adrien aren’t genuine! Oh! And instead of throwing Adrien, THIS time, Shadow Moth will throw Marinette!” {evil cackle}

Next time, I’m almost certain Adrien’s going to suddenly struggle with Marinette being Ladybug since he’s rejected her so often as Chat – not because that makes sense, but because they’re running out of scenarios, and they can only get away with recycling them so many times before they have to make a reveal stick… there’s no clear connection anymore between any character’s actions/motivations. It’s all based on the whims of the writers, and whatever will allow them to extend the story, the reveal, and its paper-thin plot the most.

I can appreciate Astruc for creating these characters, but the fact remains: he doesn’t know what to DO with them. It’s getting to the point where I honestly prefer these characters when they’re written by fans. At least in fanfics they’re nuanced and interesting, and stuff actually HAPPENS and MAKES SENSE.

First of all, where was Bunnix?? If it was going to go to hell so quickly, why didn’t she interfere like before? What’s the purpose of the Bunny Miraculous if it only shows up randomly/when it’s convenient? And if they wanted to use Sass/Viperion so badly, why not just have Bunnix recruit them? Why not have her explain to THEM why she can’t interfere!

Why the sudden threat about replacing Chat?? Why is he in trouble for not showing up when that happens all the time to both of them?? Why didn’t LB defend him, and say he was probably affected by the akuma or unable to get away? Even LB has been delayed/unavailable in the past (NY Special/Optigami/Hack-San) so why is only Chat being called out? This had poor writing all over it - another cheap attempt to raise the stakes (even though the writers will conveniently forget about it until they need it again anyway).

If it’s so important to keep their identities secret, then why would LB call Chat “Adrien” while informing him about the Lollipop sentimonster? Why not just wear a sign around her neck that says “HEY, SM: ADRIEN’S CHAT NOIR!”

Then again, this is the same show that considers a tree or park bench a great hiding place to transform; I don’t know why I keep expecting so much more from these writers

Why is LB STILL using all the other heroes – the ones that were exposed by Hawkmoth in Season 3? (Nino, Max, Luka, and Kagami?) Why isn’t she allowed to know Chat’s identity, but HM is allowed to know ALL OF THEIRS?? Why does she say one thing, and do another? The lack of consistency in this series is insane!!

Why did Marinette’s motivations for keeping her and Chat’s identities secret change again? Why give her a weaker reason to prevent the reveal? Is it only because they wanted another fake-out and that was the only way to give it to us?? (Because it wasn’t).

I’m just not sure what I’m supposed to take away from this episode. If nothing in Chat Blanc mattered, then why should I take anything seriously ever? If there’s no real consequences, then why should I care at all? I’ve always known that the writing is this series is its biggest flaw, but it’s been a while since it was as blatant to me as it was here (or perhaps, I’ve just stopped being able to turn a blind eye to it).

Maybe on my third re-watch, I’ll dislike it a little less… or maybe the rest of the season will put this episode into perspective, and its flaws will be easier to overlook.

Either way, I’m still excited to see what the rest of this season will hold!! Even though I’m fairly certain now that the stupid Adrien’s-a-sentimonster-theory is going to be true…

[citydreamgrls]

the empty diary - part one

fred weasley x fem!reader

summary: it had appeared out of the blue, a diary that contained an odd power, one which would backfire and reveal her true feelings to the one she wished to hide it from most.

an: this is the first part in a new mini-series, i hope you all enjoy !!

words: 4,051 

warnings: smut in later parts 

The book had appeared on top of her cases when the girl had arrived in her dorm the previous day, its crimson red cover sticking out amongst the dark wood trunks. It had been a small surprise, the pages between all empty to her eyes as she scanned through it quickly. But something had drawn her to the mysterious object as she felt the leather slip between her fingers as if it was somewhat familiar.

Since it was empty, and there was no one who was asking after a lost diary, the girl decided to use it as just that. Spending most evenings of the first few weeks back at Hogwarts hiding herself away to spill out those nagging thoughts; thoughts that she’d never before had the idea to write down.

Most days she could time it so that Hermione was busy helping Ron with transfiguration work and not sitting around watching her write furiously, doing her best to not interrupt. As much as she trusted Hermione, she knew how curious her best friend could be at times and wanted to keep this one thing private for as long as she could manage.

It wasn’t long, however, as she’d imagined.

“y/n-” Hermione had burst into the room, catching the girl off guard, who had learnt to zone out all noises while she wrote. Which meant she hadn’t noticed the rushed footsteps pounding up the stone steps to their room before it was too late. “What’s that?”

The girl did her best to act casual, her little desk which she was sitting at normally gathering dust, and slid the book beneath some forgotten homework from last year.

“Oh… nothing.” She panicked, and blurted out, knowing full well that no excuse would satisfy Hermione’s interest more than the truth.

“Show me,” A hand reached past her, pushing papers away to reveal the red leather standing out amongst the white sheets.

“It’s really- Hermione!”

No amount of body blocking could have stopped the girl’s friend when she was determined, regardless of how much she tried; Hermione was a surprisingly strong girl.

“Stop it!” Y/n cried out, laughing when she felt the girl hovering over her reach down to tickle her. Grinning at the way she crumbled beneath the feeling, whining out about foul play.

Hermione’s hands had already grasped the book, frowning at its blank cover and holding it heavy in her hands. The other girl, now released from the temporary torture of tickling, stood beside her friend and tried one last time to reclaim her new diary.

It, in a clumsy turn of events, fell to the floor. The pages audibly flicking through themselves, as they watched it cascade to the ground as it was slower than time.

Y/n silently prayed, begged and wished that it would land with the covers closed over her intimate thoughts, fearful of how the girl beside her would react to something so personal. But as two pages laid out before them both, and the girl held her breath, it seemed as if fate heard her call as the pair stared down to see a blank response.

She let out a little breath, forgetting that she needed to reclaim the book before Hermione got a chance. The girl in question, however, seemed confused by the book before her.

“What?” Y/n scoffed, following her eyes to see what had made her speechless in the last ten seconds or so. Joining the silence as their jaws dropped agape at the sight before them both.

“Am I going mad?” Hermione asked, seeing the ink appear slowly on the once empty page, words coming into view in the form of sentences y/n had curated herself only moments before her friend had burst into the room. She just shook her head at the empty question, too amazed by what they were witnessing to bother talking.

Shaking hands reached for it, worried it may combust between her fingers as the girl held it tenderly. Hermione’s name was printed in bold amongst the rest of the words, something she herself hadn’t done.

“Did you write about me?”

“Only good things,” She smiled, trying to avoid her prying eyes, but it was no use.

“I think it’s been charmed… but by who.”

There was a silence between the two girls as their mind’s whirred for a moment, the faint echo of passing owls sounding amongst their breaths. Y/n was close to a scream when Hermione lunged towards her, taking the book from her and throwing it onto the bed with a panicked look, a thought having plagued her mind suddenly.

“We shouldn’t trust it, not after what happened to Ginny in second year.”

“Oh come on Mione, you-know-who isn’t going to try the same trick twice.”

“Well, where did you find it then?” She demanded to know, her hands resting all too comfortably on her hips like an angry mother.

“It was just… onmycases.” The girl mumbled, now understanding where the hesitance was coming from.

“Where y/n?” Her voice was stern.

“On my case, it was just laying there for me.”

“Well then we definitely can't trust it!”

“I’ve had it for weeks already, and still nothing bad has happened, I think I'm safe.” A laugh sounded from her mouth, more to reassure herself as she picked it up again, the leather still feeling natural between her skin.

Her friend didn’t seemed convinced and took it from her yet again, making y/n groan out in annoyance as Hermione paced the room, trying to study it for herself.

“Give it back Mione!”

“I just want to try something-” “It’s private!” “I’m not interested in your crushes y/n,” She scoffed, but noticed the entry she had dedicated to how good Oliver Wood had looked at the first quidditch practice.

“Oh come on it’s not a crush- what are you doing?”

Hermione held her wand out, muttering as many spells as she could think of to try and reveal the whole book to her, having noticed the stray empty pages between entries.

“I wrote on those, what’s it doing?” The girl asked, peering over her friend's shoulder as she refused to stop walking round their dorm.

“I think it’s charmed to the reader, here, you hold it.” “Well, it’s not like it’s mine or anything.” She huffed, finally taking it back and flicking between pages. Where Hermione had seen blanks, she watched the words reappear. “See, now it’s coming back.” “Not for me, that one’s still blank.” Her friend furrowed her brow, thinking intently as the girl placed the book back down on her pokey desk.

“I think it’s been charmed so that whoever reads it only sees entries in which they’re mentioned. You can see all of them because you wrote them, but I could only see the ones which you had written me into.” Her brain spilled out this theory so confidently that all y/n could do was nod in agreement, seeing no flaws to what she was stating.

“That seems, risky, right?” She offered up, unsure of what else to say.

“Very, but somewhat safer than muggle diaries at least.” Hermione giggled, laying back with a sigh. “I only came up for a textbook, but it seems like Ron’s troubles are nowhere near as interesting as this is.”

“I’m glad I can at least entertain,” The girl rolled her eyes, “Hey, maybe we should test this out a bit more.”

“That way we can know whether what I think is right, great idea!” Hermione seemed excited at the prospect of an experiment, regardless of how mundane or easy it was.

“We can use Ron and Harry!”

-

The two girls peered around a bookcase, spotting the redhead and four eyes struggling to think of an original thought between them as they waited for Hermione to return. She rolled her eyes, knowing they’d get nothing done without her.

“Give it here,” Y/n took the red book from her friend, spotting how possessive they’d both become of it.

“I was keeping it safe for you, this could be bad in the wrong hands y/n,” She hissed, not wanting to draw the boys’ attention until they were ready. “Now, write Ron’s name in here and Harry’s on another page. That way we can see which one they can see when holding the book.” The top student explained simply, the girl beside her just nodding as she scribbled quickly, their sneaky stances now garnering a bit of attention around them.

“Done. Let’s try it out.” She smiled, holding the book amongst others she’d brought down with her, hiding their plan behind the lie of another outstanding essay to complete.

“Finally!” Ron huffed, seeing the girls arrive after enough time waiting.

“Well, if you actually listened to Mcgonnagall during class then you wouldn’t need to wait for me to come and hold your hand.” Hermione snapped, taking her seat beside the boy as y/n joined Harry.

He seemed unfazed by the bright red leather slipped between her plain school books as she placed them down, he was too preoccupied by a girl making eyes at him from across the library.

“I just don’t get why I need to know all this, I don’t even want to take Transfiguration next year so it doesn’t matter, it’s a waste of time.” Ron was groaning as Hermione watched her pull out the diary subtly, sighing and flicking open the pages. She hushed the boy beside her as y/n began further writing next to his name, he watched her with a scowl before she held up the page to him.

Ron, Mcgonnagall’s in here you git! Be quiet.

“Is she, oh bloody hell.” He put his head down after reading the words she’d written out for him, Hermione nodding to her when she hadn’t been able to see it herself. It was a lie of course, the Professor’s very rarely spent time in the library, and Ron probably knew it deep down, but it was enough to prove that their theory was right. The girl’s friend stared at Harry, who was still distracted from the rest of them, signalling that she should still try it with him.

Harry, is she your new girlfriend? ;)

She wrote, sliding the message over to him, and nudging his side with a giggle. It made the dark haired boy blush but still he scoffed and denied that he’d been making eyes at anyone. Ron had seen the quiet exchange and frowned, seeing a blank page from his point of view.

“Was there anything on there?” He whispered to Hermione, who dismissed his question with a sigh and quickly changed the subject to keep their little secret.

-

The two girls sat awake on their beds that evening, having proven the true powers of y/n’s diary and agreed that something this simple was unlikely to be dark magic. They had tested as many spells on it to show if it was capable of more, but it seemed that hiding irrelevant entries was all it could do.

“You should keep a locking spell on it, and probably keep it safe, if someone managed to get it open that would be awful.”

“Who do you think would be the worst person.” Y/n inquired, her brain worn out from all the possibilities she’d run through.

“Oliver Wood.” Hermione teased.

“Shut up! I don’t like him.”

“There’s someone though, right? I saw some words about a boy.”

“Not really.”

“It seemed like you were interested in them.” She let out a small laugh in the dimly lit room at her friend’s blatant lie, knowing that when she liked someone she would deny it for the rest of her life until she too believed it not to be true. “It’s not a bad thing to like someone.”

Hermione did her best to reassure her friend, but the girl seemed caught in her thoughts as they welcomed the silence between them, her wand spinning between her fingers mindlessly. She decided to drop it, seeing how uncomfortable it had made her, but surprisingly it was y/n who spoke up.

“I don’t think they would feel the same way, that’s all.” Her voice was quiet, and reserved. A world apart from how she usually acted around her best friend.

“Who is it?” Hermione asked, seeing the hesitance on the girl’s face as she thought about how to answer.

“You really cannot tell a soul, I mean this.”

“I promise y/n, no one will know.” She placed her hands into the girl’s, squeezing tight to try and relax her as best as she could.

“Okay, well, it’s nothing big it’s just an interest that’s it. And really, I’m not too sure about it myself.”

“Okay, go on.”

-

A few days passed, with Hermione and y/n successfully keeping the diary a secret between them. Not that Ron and Harry would have ever been that bothered by it, or its powers, at all.

It was yet another night spent studying in the library when things went wrong. The girl had been there for a good few hours now, her diligent friend always one to motivate her whenever she needed it. The diary had been forgotten amongst her other books, its locking spell casted safely over it.

Still, that spell wasn’t completely safe and they had done all they could to strengthen it, but someone would most likely be able to crack it open after some research into counter spells.

They had chosen a small table by the windows, the beginnings of a storm crashing against the glass as hushed voices floated around the large room. It was private, and not many people seemed to pass by, so when Hermione went to find yet another book to help with her latest essay, the girl decided it would be a chance to write in the red bound book for a little while.

She held her wand and whispered the words to open it up to her, its pages flittering to the next empty piece of paper within. The quill in her hand danced around as she wrote all about her day, about the storm, about the people in her classes and about the boy she was learning to like with every second spent in his presence.

Beyond the castle walls the wind blustered against the stone, the howls tunneling through the hallways and creating a small breeze at her feet. She shivered, ignoring the cold as best she could and focused instead on the words she wrote.

“God that rain sounds awful!” A voice boomed nearby, dragging her away from her thoughts hurriedly.

“Do you think quidditch will be cancelled?” Another droned on, obviously annoyed at this prospect. She recognised the twins immediately as their footsteps reached her side.

“I hope not- oh y/n you’re still here?” George asked as they both stopped. She shut the book quickly, looking up from where she sat to smile politely. Both boys towered above her as they stood with hands in their pockets.

“We saw you earlier with Hermione, but you looked busy so we didn’t dare interrupt.” Fred laughed lightly, peering over at her work beside her. “You got much to do?”

“Uh not too much, Hermione is here somewhere but she’s-” “Off being a goody two shoes?” Fred teased.

“Hey, that’s mean.”

“Sorry, I should have included both of you in that statement.”

The girl had wondered how long it would take for the twins to start annoying her again, their greatest pleasure in life was seeing someone bothered by them and that never excluded herself.

“At least I don’t fly around like a maniac every other night,” She huffed.

“Hey, quidditch is very respected.” George snapped back.

“Yeah, for teenage boys that is.” She scoffed, ignoring their grimaces and pulling out her potions book.

“Yeah well-” Fred was cut off by the sound of glass smashing somewhere else in the library, the storm from outside flying in with no regard for the panicked students. Screams sounded out as more and more windows caved into the growing pressure, and the girl stood up to see if she could spot Hermione amongst them.

“We need to go!” George cried out to his brother, who grabbed the girl’s arm. She took it back, needing to find Hermione first before getting out.

“Y/n!” Her friend called out over the howls of wind, appearing from behind a stack of books and taking her friend’s hand. “Come on!” She dragged her away from the table.

“Wait, what about-” SHe started, remembering the red diary laying unprotected on the table. She hadn’t had time to cast the spell over it, and now as they ran through the small crowd of students she had no chance to turn back.

“Y/n come on!” Fred yanked on her arm again, giving her no option but to follow as he overpowered her protests easily.

-

They weren’t allowed back in until the next afternoon, once the room had been cleared of smashed glass, and the windows were repaired. It was quiet now, the storm having been and gone, and the sun shone in calmly as if nothing had happened.

“Over here, this was where we were yes?” Hermione asked, spotting her pile of textbooks stacked neatly on their table. A few pages had been ripped at the edges, and she could see obvious signs of water damage. But mostly, it was salvageable.

“I can’t find it!” Y/n said, rushing to shove everything out of the way. The diary was nowhere to be found.

“It’ll be here, just keep looking.”

The girl threw herself to the ground, crawling beneath the table where she’d had it last and looking in all the dark corners. But no matter where she looked, the red leather was missing.

“I’ll go ask Madame Pince, she may have picked it up if it looked important.” Hermione told her friend as she slumped into the chair, her head falling between her hands in despair.

It was open, unlocked for anyone to look inside. Whoever had it may not be able to read anything, but if it got passed around to someone mentioned then it was over. The girl collected the things that had been left in the midst of the storm and remembered how adamant the twins had been to get her out, especially Fred.

They could have easily taken it while she was distracted looking for Hermione, not to mention that they would revel in knowing her every secret. But that was the last thing she wanted to believe, as it would mean she would need to drown herself in the black lake out of embarrassment.

Since she learnt of the diary’s power, she had been careful not to mention him by name, knowing that it would immediately reveal itself to him if found. But, what about the ones before when his name was repeated over and over, when she wasn’t sure why she felt the need to write about him, or her feelings towards him. It just felt right.

Now, it was all wrong. What if there was more, what if the power stretched to intention too. If it knew that the person reading it was being written about, without blatantly stating their name, would that mean it would still reveal itself. She hated that her and Hermione hadn’t thought of this idea until now, when it was too late.

“It has to be the twins!” Y/n stated, when her friend returned from the librarian’s office empty handed, her eyes wide and determined.

“You really think so?” “Who else would want to have that kind of upper hand over someone?” “It would be their best prank this term, even if it’s a bit cruel.”

“We need to get it back! Remember what I said the other night, all of that could be unveiled if they are the ones who have it.” She urged, getting to her feet in an instant, forgetting all the things they needed to carry back to their dorms and storming out of the library.

-

Fred would have recognised the red cover from a mile away, it had been clutched between the girl’s hands for weeks now, obviously full of secrets since she felt the need to cast a locking spell on it. She thought she had been subtle about it, but he had seen her do it every time she closed it in the great hall or the common room.

But it wasn’t in her hands, it was poking out of a pile of books a random second year boy was carrying. He frowned, leaving George’s side to follow the Ravenclaw boy round the corner and down an empty hall.

“Hey!” He called out, making the younger boy jump in surprise. “Is that yours?” He pointed to the book in his arms, making his eyes widen in fear at the tall redhead. Everyone knew who they were, but they were always known for being easygoing. Now his stern tone instilled fear in the boy’s face as he got closer. He shook his head, the red book falling as he scrambled away in a panic, not wanting to stick around to find out what Fred would do if he found out it was stolen during the storm.

“Little bugger.” Fred mumbled, picking it up and seeing the page that it had fallen open onto. He could hear footsteps running after him and quickly shoved the book into his robes, turning just in time to see his brother turn the corner with a look of confusion on his face.

“What was that all about?” He asked.

“Oh, nothing. I just thought I saw something…” Fred trailed off, quickly losing George’s interest.

“God, anyone would think you’re going mental.”

Maybe he was. Racing after someone over a diary that wasn’t even his, but he had seen the unmistakable scrawling’s of y/n’s writing. Then his name, as clear as day.

-

Fred waited until everyone in his dorm fell asleep before taking out the diary, casting a quiet lumos spell and slipping beneath the covers to secretly read what was inside. He started with the first entry, his name appearing first before the other words faded into view.

Dear Diary,

Maybe I’m going mad, or someone has cursed me to think this way, but something feels different about Fred Weasley. For the first time in years I can definitively tell that it is him when he’s stood beside his brother, instead of having to guess like I used to. It’s like I can finally pick him out in a room, when before he just blended into everyone else, yet when I see him he’s just getting on with his life and doing nothing special.

He’s taller than he used to be, and he smiles more, and his voice is deeper than I realised. But maybe these are all things that I’m just noticing now, because I want to know more. Everything about him makes me want to know more, and I can’t explain why, it’s pure curiosity.

Now when he talks to me, the same way he has done for years, I feel excited and nervous and all these other emotions I wouldn’t have expected to relate to Fred. It’s as if I see him as a new person, like we’ve just met… properly.

Maybe I am going mad, or maybe this is all a prank to him to make me feel this way, but until I fix it I will just have to live with it. I’m hoping writing it down may help hide how I feel from him, for a little while.

Fred’s eyes read fast, each word dragging him in deeper and deeper into her mind, as if he could see every thought as it was produced. He read it over and over, slowly and carefully, to make sure what he had seen was true.

He could never show anyone this, that would crush her, but he enjoyed this little secret. The boy liked knowing that she saw him differently to all the other boys in her life, but what made him the happiest was that he was the only one to know what she was thinking.

[worstloki]

please read the article 'How White Fandom is Colonizing "Character-Coding"' by Shafira Jordan and quit while you're ahead

Okay, so I read it and see the problem, and I’ll try to address all their points in order because I don’t wholly agree with the article. I know it’s a lot to read so I’ve put tldr; sections at the end of each :)

Misusing the Term Reinforces Negative Stereotypes for Marginalized People 

The article essentially argues that labeling characters which are villainous as POC-coded is bad because they’re not morally pure and doing so "reinforces the idea that people of color are naturally dangerous and not to be trusted.”

Which is fair as you don’t want all the representation to be of ‘bad’ characters, but I also don’t believe all representative characters have to be ‘good’ either as it would be equally racist to divide good/bad in such a way. Not that I would place Loki under ‘bad’ to begin with, but arguing that characters shouldn’t be labelled as POC-coded for reasons unrelated to what’s presented in the narrative or because they did bad things is :/ even if lack of good representation is a prevalent issue in current Western and influenced media. 

Ideally there should be a range of representative characters that fall into ‘good’, ‘bad’, and ‘anywhere in-between’ because variety and complexity in character types should, in theory, be treated as common practice (which can only happen with a multitude of representation!).

And a bit unrelated but... within the fictional context of Thor 1, all the Jotnar (sans Loki) are presented to the audience as ‘bad’ by default. They desperately want to get their Casket back to the point of attempting stealing it (from the ‘good’ characters), they fight the heroes and even when the gang and Thor (’good’ characters) are enjoying or going overboard with taking lives it’s inconsequential, Laufey wants to kill the opposing king (who just happens to be a ‘good’ character) and will resort to low-handed methods to do so, etc. The narrative itself is from the frame of reference of the ‘good’ and we only see warriors of Jotunheim though so we understand why it’s like this, because regardless of their race/experiences the narrative carries, even if it most definitely would be seen as racist from our real-life perspectives if the ‘monstrous’ race were presented by actual people of colour, even if it would make sense for the people on on different realms living in different environments to be different from each other, and realistic even for that to be the root of some conflict. 

tldr; not using a specific label to prevent negative presentations of the characters seems a bit strange to do when the coding would be based off the text, but with limited representation available I see why it would be done, even if I still believe minority-coding is free game to expand/interpret.

Improperly Labeling a Character as “POC-coded” Suggests the Experiences of All People of Color are the Same 

The article argues that labeling Loki as POC-coded “suggests that all people of color have the same experiences, when in reality, people of color come from different places, have different cultures, and have different traditions.” And while it’s true that the term doesn’t go into detail about which particular experiences (and these experiences can vary vastly due to diversity!) the appropriate measure would be to remove the umbrella term POC altogether as people of colour tend to also vary. But that’s also exactly why it’s an all-encompassing general term? It’s a way to denote anyone who isn’t “white” and has the associated cultural privilege that comes with the concept of white supremacy.  

And, obviously, in the fictional setting presented, the concept of white supremacy is not prodded at, but cultural supremacy is definitely one that makes recurring appearances, right next to the parts about Asgard being a realm built on imperialism with ongoing colonial practice. 

My take on this is that Loki’s narrative features a struggle with identity after finding out he’s of a different race and was being treated differently his entire life and being Jotun was presumably a part of the reasoning even if he didn’t know it. He’s basically treated as of less worth for inherently existing differently. I do believe that racism is a common-enough POC experience, but that while Loki was born with blue skin he passes/appears white which is why I don’t say that Loki is a POC, just that he has been coded/can be interpreted this way. 

There’s also the entire thing with Loki trying to fit in and prove he belongs by trying to fit the theory and be The Most Asgardian by committing genocide (which ultimately makes no difference as he’s still not the ‘acceptable’ version of Asgardian), and the denial/rejection of his birth culture in destructively lashing out towards them (which even Thor is confused by because Loki isn’t typically violent), and the fact his self worth plummets and he is passively suicidal upon finding out he’s Jotun (internalized racism? general drop in self-worth after finding out he’s adopted and has been lied to? Bit of both?), but what do I know, I’m sure none of those are, at their base, common experiences or relatable feelings for anyone or decent rep because we see such themes on-screen presented wonderfully in different lights all the time. 

tldr; every set of experiences could be different, some types of discrimination could overlap, if you limit an umbrella term to only very specific circumstances then it’s no longer an umbrella term.

Suggesting that White Characters are Meant to be Seen as People of Color Ignores the Actual Characters of Color that are Present in these Stories

I don’t agree with most of this section, but that may just be the way the arguments are put together, which I don’t blame the author for.

“ Implying that Loki is a person of color completely ignores Heimdall and Hogun, the only Black and Asian Asgardians who appear in the movie. ”

Characters such as Hogun and Heimdall which are played by actual people of colour have smaller roles in the films and any prejudice they could face for being POC in-universe isn’t made apparent, while Loki at the very least comes to the realization that something he couldn’t change (race, parentage,) was having him treated differently his whole life and had to come to terms with it. The Vanir/Aesir are also both treated similarly on-screen, and Heimdall having dark skin isn’t plot relevant, whereas Jotnar are treated as lesser consistently and are relevant through the movie (breaking into the vault, Thor and co. attack Jotunheim, Loki’s deal with Laufey, the attempted regicide (and the successful one XD), destroying jotunheim, Loki saying he’s not Thor’s brother,). 

I also see including characters as POC-coded as... more representation? In all canon-compliant interpretations of the characters Hogun being Vanir is always explicitly mentioned because it’s a fact that just is, up to the appearance and even the world-building of Vanaheim in some fanworks use particularly East Asian culture as inspiration. I have never come across a Marvel fandom Heimdall interpretation where he’s not Black... but because these characters are more minor/side-characters of course they get less attention! 

“ In Loki’s fandom, Heimdall’s name sometimes gets thrown in to suggest that it was he all along who was the real villain due to his “racism” against Loki and the rest of the Jotun. It is, of course, ironic to suggest that somehow the only Black Asgardian to appear in the movie can oppress the privileged white prince. “

I... don’t know where to start with this. But the example of theorizing given in the article wasn’t suggesting Heimdall was bad or trying to explain his actions in Thor 1 by saying he is Black... and just looking at a character’s actions shouldn’t be done less or more critically because of skin tone in my opinion. Heimdall may have been trying to do what was best and protect the realm but if the audience didn’t know that Loki was up to dodgy things then the coding would be switched around because he was trying to spy and committed treason and then tried to kill Loki. People... can hold feelings towards others... regardless of skin... and suspect them... for reasons other than skin... although I do still have questions about whether Heimdall knew Loki was Jotun or not. (Even if I personally don’t think it’d make a difference to how he’d treat Loki?)

Some Loki fans have also suggested that because Jotuns have blue skin that this alone makes him a person of color (even if the audience is only allowed to see Loki in his true Jotun form for mere seconds of screentime). This, again, shows a lack of understanding when it comes to race. It doesn’t matter what skin color the Jotuns have. 

Race can differentiate between physical and/or behavioural characteristics!! Not being blue all the time doesn’t make him any less Jotun!! He’s got internalized stuff to work through and is used to being Aesir!! At least 1 parent is Jotun so even if Loki was passing as Aesir he’s probably Jotun!! (I don’t know how magic space genetics work for sure but Loki being Jotun was an entire very important jump-starting point in Thor 1!!). It’s a fantasy text and typically things like having different coloured skin indicates a different race or is sometimes if a species has multiple then is just considered a skin colour. That’s how coding works!! The Jotnar are very specifically the only race we see in the movie with a skin-tone not within the ‘normal’ human range, which alienates them to the audience from the get-go!! They’re an “other” and on the opposite side to the ‘good’ characters.

Both Loki and his birth father, Laufey (Colm Feore), are played by white men, and it is impossible for a white man to successfully play a character of color. 

The specification of men here bothers me, but yes, you don’t get ‘white’ people to play characters of colour if it can be avoided. (And it can be avoided.)

This also connects with the previous point made that people of color come from various places. There is nothing specifically about the Jotun that could be traced to any specific person of color, and even if there were, there would be no way for white men to portray them without being disrespectful.

This is where arguments about the definition of coding and how specificity/generalizations and do/don’t come in. I know I’m subjective and lean towards the more rep the better, but while I agree ‘white’ people wouldn’t be able to respectfully play a POC I don’t think that rule should have to carry over into fantasy-based fiction. I know texts reflect on reality and reality can reflect within texts, but if contextually there is racial discrimination and there are similar ideas which resonate with the audience’s own experiences I’d say it’s coded well enough to allow that.

tldr; Thor 1′s narrative revolves mainly around Thor and Loki, of which race is kinda kinda a significant theme in Loki’s part of the story. Not so much explored with less-developed side characters such as Heimdall and Hogun, even though their actors are actual people of colour. 

How Much of this is Really Well-Intentioned?

In the fantasy space viking world Heimdall and Hogun don’t face any on-screen prejudice and their appearance is not mentioned (which is nice, for sure! good to have casual rep!) but adding on to the roles they play in the narrative the explicit fantasy-racism in the movie isn't aimed at Asian/Black characters, but towards the Humans -to a lesser extent- and the Jotnar, including Loki, who only just found out he comes under that bracket.

The article mentions how fandom space toxicity often “reaches the actors who portray the characters,“ which is true, and it’s shameful that people have to justify their roles or presences are harassed for the pettiest things like skin tone/cultural background, but I don’t see coding characters as removing the spotlight from interesting characters such as those which are actually POC, rather expressing a demand for more rep, since well-written complex characters which are diverse are often absent/minor enough in the media, and therefore can get easily brushed aside in both canon and fandom spaces.

tldr; It’s obviously not a replacement for actual representation, but, if a character is marginalized and can be interpreted as coded, even if they would only be considered so within the context of the textual landscape, I don’t see why spreading awareness through exploring the coding as a possibility for the character shouldn’t be done, even if the media is being presented by people who are ‘white’ or privileged or may not fall into the categories themselves, as long as it’s done respectfully to those it could explicitly represent.

[uozlulu]

BnHA chapter 362 reaction and spoilers

Great to see Tamaki get a massive hit in even if it doesn’t work.

It’s interesting how in the moment of death, All Might’s OFA visage appears before Bakugou. I don’t know if this is an indication that OFA can do anything about any of this or if it’s just a means for Bakugou’s soul to accept the situation, kind of a play on the theory that each person picks the entity that ferries them in death.

Bakugou does his best but it’s not enough. Jeanist mentions Bakugou’s heart, so I think we’re meant to infer Jeanist can actually see the organ itself possibly or that maybe with his fibers he can detect that Bakugou’s heart stopped.

I have a lot of thoughts on the idea of Bakugou dying for real. I’m going to try to present them in some kind of organized fashion.

Firstly, this makes me think of Dragon Ball because I’ve been saying for a long time now that I want Shigaraki to have a Vegeta kind of ending (AFO gets defeated, Shigaraki ends up in a more positive place away from his abuser and gets to heal, he and Midoriya possibly come to some kind of understanding, etc…), and this set up is looking similar to the battle with Frieza on Namek before Goku can finish healing. There are more comrades involved here, but everyone’s at their limits, AFOraki is still on top, and now Bakugou, like Kuririn, has died before Midoriya, like Goku, can arrive. However, unlike Goku, Midoriya might not be aware of Bakugou’s death until he arrives unless one of the purposes of All Might’s OFA visage was a way for Midoriya to learn Bakugou dies before arriving at the main battle location. I do think it’s possible we’re also heading for a scene where Tenko and Midoriya manage to reach each other much like Vegeta and Goku had a moment before Vegeta died on Namek, but I’m sur ethe circumstances and Tenko’s survival will play out differently in this context. It’ll be interesting to see what happens from this point forward since this is a decided tonal shift in the narrative, which has been avoiding killing off Class A up to this point.

Now, let’s talk about Bakugou’s death itself. I both like it and dislike it equally. When I first found out about it I waffled about if I wanted him to actually die or not, and after reading this chapter I think that I am firmly in the camp of no dragon balls Bakugou’s going to stay dead. That said, there are some pros and cons to this.

Pros:

The students shouldn’t even be here. At lest one of them dying should happen because all of the adults around them have let them down. Even if it’s true that the heroes need the students to help fight this war, this is a consequence of war that is inescapable especially if you’ve got people on the battlefield that have no business being there in the first place. This is also a culmination of mistakes made no just by UA but also the Hero Commission who should never have let the first years get their provisional licenses a year early in the first place.

This happened in front of Aizawa and as much as I love him, ffs, he is the person who could have objected to multiple phases of this and bears a lot of responsibility for how things got to this point. He is not the person who is solely responsible but I like that the first student to die dies in front of him because he needs to be faced with the fact that if he wanted to prevent another Shirakumo, there was more to change than just how students perceive their own lives. That said, I do feel bad for him that it’s come to this and if we delve into his extended reaction it is going to break my heart.

I appreciate that Horikoshi had the balls to kill off one of the fan favorite main recurring Class A students because sometimes when these types of scenes happen it’s one of the second or third tier recurring protagonists who die.

I also like that it was Bakugou because Shigaraki originally kidnapped Bakugou with the intent to save him from the heroes after Bakugou was chained up during the awards ceremony at the sports festival. AFOraki choosing to kill a person Shigaraki wanted to save underscores some of thee difference between Shigaraki and AFO and sets us up for whatever’s going to happen between Tenko and/or Shigaraki and Midoriya later possibly.

I like that we got to see the death happen because one of the things I didn’t like about the previous arc was how there was this page of heroes who died and that was that. Hopefully this bodes well for getting something with more emotional impact instead of speed running. Not that I particular want to see characters die, but if they’re going to die at least give me something emotional to work with, you know?,/li>

Cons:

I don’t like how this cuts off Bakugou’s storyline about him finally getting around to maturing. We never got Midoriya’s perspective on the apology or a scene between them alone after the apology. Not that Bakugou deserves that after how he treated Midoriya, but I think from the audience perspective no matter how such a scene would go, it’d have been nice to see it. That said, maybe we’ll get a flashback to such a scene when Midoriya finds out about Bakugou since we’ve been kind of doing flashbacks for some scenes in other areas of the arc.

If I had to choose between Bakugou and Endeavor for which one should die and which one should live quirkless, I’d have Endeavor die, but I can see how Endeavor surviving unable to use his quirk for whatever reason is also a fitting punishment for his toxic behavior. Also, I acknowledge since Bakugou did identify the problem he was having with Midoriya correctly and apologized correctly, he in some ways has no unfinished business whereas Endeavor is still working on identify the problem he’s having with his family and the solution to it.

I feel like I’m going to have to see this in the anime to understand what exactly went down though the flow of action wasn’t as hard to follow in this chapter as it was in the previous chapter.

All that said, I’m looking forward to seeing how this narrative choice impacts the manga and characters as a whole and how it’ going to change Midoriya most of all.

[ppersonna]

kiss it better - ksj | m

been waiting on that sunshine boy, i think i need that back.  can't do it like that. no one else gonna get it like that. - kiss it better, rihanna

↳ summary- your best friend Kim Seokjin makes you an offer you can’t refuse

↳ rating- explicit / 18+

↳ word count- 3.7k

↳ pairing- seokjin x reader

↳ genre- smut, comedy, fluff

↳ warnings- oral sex (f receiving), fingering, finger sucking, dirty talk, daddy kink, jin making really bad jokes at bad times.

↳ a/n- well hello there!  i hope you enjoy this!  this fic is a collab with @kookiesjoonies​ all about bad hookups being saved by BTS.  make sure you check out her yoongi fic HERE!  i hope you enjoy this little piece!  i love the visual of jin....well.... you get the idea HNNNGGG *vibrates in thot*.  feel free to message me, send me an ask, comment, throw a rock at me, whatever u wanna do i wanna engage w/ UUUUU.  LOVE YOU ALL! -lindy 

If you had to pinpoint a moment where it all started, where everything changed, it was the night you came home after another bad hook up left you nearly crying in your shared 2 bedroom apartment.  

Jin found you pouring an excessive amount of wine into a mug, on the verge of tears.

“Terrible date?” Your roommate asks as he leans against the door of the kitchen and motions with his head towards the gallon of alcohol you’re about to drink like it’s coffee.

“You can fucking say that again,” you grumble.  You will not cry—you’re forcing that mantra through your brain at whiplash speeds.  

“Jeez, how bad could it have been to make you wanna pound a keg of wine?” He jokes.  Your eyes level with his and he can see you’re not in the mood for comedy.  Another time, he supposes.

“Men,” you laugh with mirth.  “You and your stupid fucking dicks and no brains and all you care about is getting off.”  You’re fuming with anger, which given the situation is probably more than what is called for but you’re sure if the next hook up you manage doesn’t care to get you off, you will go absolutely wild.

“I’m still not grasping what’s wrong here,” he folds his arms over his chest and relaxes against the wood.  You’re clutching the wine glass—mug—but still not drinking it.

“I haven’t gotten off!” You exclaim with enough gusto that some wine spills out.  Jin rushes towards you and grabs a rag.  He knows you’re lethal in the kitchen.  Sticky for days.  

“You haven’t gotten off? Like they don’t make you cum?” He asks as he wipes up the harsh red liquid on the counter.  Your eyes watch his hands and for a second, a split second, you admire the tendons and veins moving under his skin as he cleans up your mess.

“Exactly.  It’s a one and done, get out of my bed sort of thing,” you huff.  “I’m not asking to be cuddled or whatever.  But can’t a girl at least get some oral?”

Jin stifles a laugh and wrings the rag out in the sink.  “How long has it been since someone made you cum?”

A wave of shame courses over you, but you’re not sure why.  Jin’s someone you trust.  It’s not like he thinks any less of you for fucking guys who don’t have a shred of decency. 

“I mean, I can make myself cum every night in my room,” Jin’s ears turn a slight shade of pink at this and you’re suddenly curious.  “But with a guy? Fuck, probably a year.  Looks like I pick the real winners.”

He’s silent, and it makes you feel nervous.  You can’t explain it—or rather you refuse to accept what you’ve been avoiding for a while.  That your eyes linger on your roommate’s form as he exits the shower with a towel around his waist, the broad expanse of his bare shoulders with water still running down his back.  The way he pushes his hair back when he’s tired.  That you’ve had more than one night of slipping your hands down your body with the image of him in mind.

It feels wrong.  It feels dirty to think of your best friend in such a way.  And yet, it thrills you even more.  

“I hope you don’t—... feel like I’m sleazy or something,” you murmur, buried in your newfound self-consciousness.  

He smiles up at you and leans over the counter, resting his head on his hands and watches you curiously.

“I could make you cum,” he offers.  It sounds like he’s offering to run errands for you, buy your lunch when you forget your wallet.  

It’s so simple that you’re stunned into silence.  Your brain skids to a halt to process what just escaped the mouth of your longtime best friend, roommate, confidant.  

He chuckles as he watches the gears try to turn in your mind.  “I’ve been told I’m great at oral.  Not to brag.  Just what I’ve heard.” The smirk on his lips definitely tells you he means to brag.

“You want--... to eat me out?” You ask incredulously.  He’s still staring at you like it’s no big deal, just another everyday event.  Best friends getting each other off.  You wash the dishes, he dries, then he’s buried tongue deep in your cunt? Is that how it works?

“You seem really upset, and as your friend, if I have the tools to fix it, why would I hold back?” He postulates.   You can’t help but agree with his theory.  Your heart is thumping soundly in your chest.  Is it just a friendly thing?  Is he offering out of the goodness of his heart or is there something more?  Are you willing to let your pussy win out and get the pleasure at the sake of getting your heart broken? 

It doesn’t take long to decide.

Fuck yes you are.

“Okay,” you agree. “Are we going to fuck too?” You ask as you wash your hands of any remaining wine.  You haven’t drunk a sip and you still feel tipsy and lightheaded.

“Do you want to fuck?” He narrows his eyes at you in playful suspicion.  

It makes you blush.  “I—I’d like to…” you’re suddenly shy and you can tell it thrills Jin to see you thrown off your game.

“Then let’s fuck, baby girl,” he smirks as he pushes up from the counter top he rested on moments ago.  

“Your place or mine?”  His joke is stupid, but it makes you laugh, anyway.

“Knowing your disgusting ass, your bed is covered in god know’s what.  Mine, please.”

He tuts and walks behind you down the hallway, hand resting gently at your back. 

“Is that any way to talk to your best friend? The one who’s going to eat you out until you’re crying for more?”  His words send a shiver down your spine, and he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Well, fuck—when you put it that way…” you trail off.  

Your bedroom has never felt more foreign to you in your life.  It’s the same as it always is.  Queen-size bed, photos on the wall, messy laundry in the corner spilling out of the hamper.  But now you’re in it with Jin.  You’re in it with Jin because he’s promised you at least one orgasm and you’re sure he will try for more, knowing his ego.

“Welcome,” you gesture nervously as you sit on the bed.  

He rolls his eyes.  “Stop acting weird,” he chides. “It’s me, you don’t have to be weird around me.”  He’s pressing you down towards the pillows to relax.

You want to retort it’s exactly why you’re acting weird.  The man you play drunk Monopoly at 3 am with is pressing into you now like he wants to eat you for hours.  He’s seen you crying, held your hair back while you puked, heard or witnessed your most embarrassing moments.  And now he’s about to fuck you stupid.

You allow your body to relax against all the sirens in your brain telling you this is weird, this is fucked up, you’ll regret it.  The blood is rushing out of your frontal cortex and towards your lower half, making your pussy drunk on anything Seokjin can give you.

He smiles as he sees your body relax into the comforter on your bed and he places a hand on your cheek.

“See?  Easy peasy.”  You roll your eyes and he chuckles.  You want to comment, tell him he’s a fucking idiot like you always do when he says something cheesy, but he beats you to the punch and presses his lips against yours gently.

You’ve always wondered what his lips would feel like against your own. He tastes like peppermint. Idly, you realize you’ve always associated Jin with the taste of warm, smoky vanilla, but now that you’re here with your tongue swirling around his, the peppermint makes sense. It suits him. 

He kisses you tenderly. It’s not the rushed kiss of a quick hookup. It’s not the passionate kiss of long-lost lovers.  It’s the sweet, compassionate kiss—the kind that wants to make you feel like nothing is wrong in the world.  Your heart stutters and leaps into your throat as he cups a cheek in his embrace and rubs the delicate skin there with a thumb. 

The kiss is finished too soon for your liking. He’s pulling away and smiling down at you. His eyes sparkle with something you can’t quite put your finger on but it makes you feel lit up like Christmas. 

“I hear I’m an excellent kisser too,” he smirks down at you and the moment is lost. “Would you agree?” 

You roll your eyes. “God, I can’t believe you,” you sigh. “You’re hopeless.” 

He tugs on the hem of your shirt, indicating he means to take it off.  You tense for a moment. It seems you’ve stupidly forgotten you should be naked for this act. You’re about to be naked and laid bare in front of your best friend who you’ve harbored an inkling of a crush on. He’s about to see your most vulnerable side. Could you trust him? What if he mentioned the freckle above your ass? What if he pointed out something wrong with your body?  A wave of uncertainty washes over you. 

Jin pulls your shirt off easily and gently. He tosses it toward your ever-growing laundry pile and turns his attention back to you. You’re still in a nice, pretty bra from the hookup and Jin’s eyes are captivated.  The cocky smirk is wiped off his lips, and instead he gapes. Your breasts are encased in creamy red satin and he sits up straighter and can’t break his gaze. 

“Wow,” he breathes, and it makes your cheeks heat. 

“Sorry, I know it’s too much, I can just—,”

He cuts you off with a finger to your lips. 

“I always knew you were pretty but, fuck—.. you’re a vision. You’re gorgeous.” 

You’re heating. The way your core clenches around nothing as Jin compliments you with all sincerity and no sense of humor like he does has your blood rushing.  

“Can I—,” he swallows as he attempts to steel himself. “Can I take it off?” 

You nod, too shy to impart any dialogue and assist him by lifting your back slightly to allow his hands space to un-clasp the lingerie. 

It falls away easily and you close your eyes as your full globes come free. You hear Jin’s breath catch and it’s silent. A few beats pass and you’re ready to end everything now, it’s too awkward, when a hand gently cups one and a thumb rubs over the nipple. It makes your spine tingle. 

You crack your eyes open and see Jin staring intently at your chest, following his thumb as it drags back and forth against the hardening nipple. 

“I think you have the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen in my life.” 

You want to argue and tell him he’s just saying that to be nice, but the retort dries up in your throat as he leans down and sucks a nipple into his mouth.  He tugs on it with the suction of his mouth and licks stripes against the bud. You moan loudly.  It feels like he’s praising you with his mouth. 

Jin takes his time.  You can tell he’s in no rush.  He suckles and presses kisses to your breasts with the same attention to detail he gives his culinary creations.  He massages each globe in his hands and alternates his lips back and forth between nipples.  He draws sweet sighs and moans from your lips and your fingers thread through his thick hair.

After his careful ministrations, he pulls up and smiles at you.  

“I’m not going to lie,” he starts. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”

You feel like you’ve been slapped.  Kim Seokjin, your roommate and best friend, has wanted you? As much as you have wanted him? 

He can see you’re faltering for words and he shrugs.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way.  It doesn’t have to change anything.”

His immediate dejection spurs you into action.

“I’ve wanted it for a long time too,” you reply.  “Jin, why would I agree to have sex with you if I wasn’t interested in being with you?”

He smirks a little and you know you’re in for a witty one-liner. 

“You wanted to take a ride on this wild stal-Jin.”

His grin is cocky, as it usually is, and as annoying as his jokes are, it loosens a knot of nerves inside you.  You had somehow convinced yourself Jin would be a completely unfamiliar person after this.  It seems that wouldn’t be the case. 

“Oh my god,” you groan.

His hands and mouth are roaming your chest and stomach, peppering the skin with kisses. He teases at your navel with his tongue and any irritation you felt at his terrible pun flies out the window as you feel a surge rush through your veins straight to your cunt. 

He fiddles with the button and fly on your jeans, the ones that hug your curves just perfectly. 

“Your ass looks good in these jeans,” he comments as he tugs them down. “Almost a shame to take them off. But I’d rather get a full uncensored view.”

You blush and lift your hips to allow him to pull your jeans off. Long legs are spread on the bed and a thong barely protects your modesty.  It’s already soaked, there’s no denying it when Jin steals a glance and cocks a coy smile. 

“Naughty,” he tsks jokingly. “Someone’s excited to get sucked by the Seok-master.” 

“Jesus Christ, Jin,” you sigh. “I hate you.” 

“I’d like you to try to say that again when I’m three fingers deep inside you with my tongue.” 

His words roll over you like a trail of fire. It clenches at your throat and sizzles down to your core. You can’t help but let a moan out and arch your back. 

“I thought so,” he smirks.  He fingers at the straps of your thong for a moment and then trails a finger down your slit.  It’s wet and warm, and he bites a lip. 

“Bet you’re real pretty here too. I think about what your pussy looks like a lot.” 

It’s sending you into an unfamiliar state of consciousness to hear Kim Seokjin say such illicit things about you—things you thought to be off-limits. 

“Bet it looks even prettier with your face buried in there.” A sly smile spreads on your own features, and Jin looks pleased. 

“That’s my fucking girl.” 

He tugs the black thong down and it joins the chaos on your bedroom floor. 

He’s here now. It’s real. It’s happening. His eyes are glued to your cunt, and a finger is tracing the outline of the lips there. 

“No one has ever made you cum from oral?” He asks again. He’s mystified by your center and he hasn’t even seen the full thing yet. 

A shuddering breath escapes you as you confirm. “No, no one ever has.” 

He sucks his teeth for a moment and remains silent.  His fingers slowly slide in to spread you open lewdly, displaying your clit like the grand prize behind the curtain. 

“I’ll make sure you get off every single night,” he promises. “No more hooking up with assholes.  All mine, okay? Just like you always should have been.” 

It’s hard to breathe as you feel his fingers achingly close to your clit and you’re sure your channel is weeping with desire. 

“Okay, Jinnie,” you murmur. 

“It’s daddy, now, baby.” 

It feels like the world stops and you whimper with need. 

“Please, daddy,” you cry. “I need you.” 

“I can tell, baby. Your poor little pussy hasn’t been shown the love it deserves, hm?” He asks. He still refuses to move any closer to where you need. “You need daddy, don’t you? You need someone who will worship this cunt.” 

The air in your lungs is sucked out with vacuum-like force. 

He lowers himself to lie between your legs, face close to your center. He spreads your legs further, almost on the verge of discomfort, and wraps his arms under your thighs and grips at the tops to keep you spread. 

Suddenly, he’s pressing his face into you and a tongue darts into your channel and laves around.  Your eyes roll back in your head at the feeling.  

He’s testing the waters, per se, and getting a taste of you. He wants to know what spots drive you crazy.  Are you solely a clitoral stimulation girl or do you need the feeling of something filling you tight and deep too? He hopes to learn every single aspect about your cunt before the night is over.  

He watches your facial expression as he licks from your walls and up to your clit. Your face contorts in ecstasy as the tip of his tongue flicks quickly on the nub. You’re gasping with desperation, singing his praises as he suckles and rub at your button with his tongue.  

You taste delicious; he notes. Earthy, but still sweet like nectar. He thinks maybe your body was tuned to be his. 

He spends time there, and it drives you mad. He’s sucking and flicking and dipping his tongue inside you and you feel a sense of euphoria no man has given you.  Jin’s pillowy plush lips apply just the right pressure to your clit, kiss it so sweetly you might cry as he then inserts himself to lap up your juices. He drinks as if he’s dehydrated of you, only you, and if he doesn’t get more, he’ll perish. 

“Jin—.. daddy, fuck,” you correct your mistake and it makes him chuckle against you. 

“Good girl,” he coos. He pulls an arm out from between your thighs and sucks two of his fingers into his mouth, a disgusting display for you that has you nearly cumming right there. 

After he determines you tortured and his fingers slicked enough, he moves forward again and slides said fingers up into you. Your back arches again and Jin smirks.  You’re a penetration girl just as much as you are a clit girl, and Jin knows he has you hook, line and sinker.  He’s unlocked your formula and plans to see it to your very end. 

“Look at you,” he murmurs adoringly as he fucks in and out of you. “So nice and wet for daddy. Getting my fingers so slick.” He groans. His cock is hardening rapidly, and he moves his hips on the bed for some stimulation. “I can’t wait to fuck this sweet little hole. I’m going to be the only one who ever makes you cum, and I will always make sure you fucking cum.” He promises.  

You’re whimpering with a pleasant mixture of need and satisfaction as he thrusts his digits into you. Jin’s taking his time, which leaves you breathless, gasping for more and more. You want to be greedy and tell him to take you now, so hard and fast, but you want to make this last forever. Your pussy has never felt so alive and vibrant with desire as it does right now. 

Jin returns to his post, mouth firmly attached to your clit as he picks up a pace with his fingers.  He’s suckling again at your nub and you find it’s the perfect amount of pressure that has your vision darkening around the edges.  An impossible tight string is winding so tightly inside you and you feel it threaten to collapse your entire body.  

You allow your waning attention to focus on Jin for a moment, and you realize how he truly looks in his element.  It looks as if Jin should have been the one between your thighs this whole time.  You thought maybe this would feel wrong and perverse.  Instead, it feels as if you two have finally slipped together and fit into the picture perfectly, instead of trying to jam into spots not meant for either of you. 

It’s heady to think of him like this, your best friend who knows everything about you.  It makes sense now—it was always meant to be him in your life.  You’ve always wanted him to be the one who simultaneously makes you laugh and cum.  He was always meant to be the one for you; it just took until now to really understand it.

Jin picks up the pace again, and it washes away your thoughts as you feel him increase the speed and pressure of his tongue in time with his fingers.  His eyes are closed and he’s focused on this like it’s his destiny.  Your legs quiver in anticipation as the tightness pulls more, pulls harder and your cunt tightens around his fingers.  

It snaps the string inside you and your mental capacity.  All you feel is bliss as your body unravels at his hand.  Your channel pulses around him and he grins as he feels the clenching and hears your sweet and agonized moans.   You’re incapable of any coherent thought except Jin, Jin, Jin and how deliciously sweet he has made you feel and the ecstasy he has wrought out of you.

He allows you a moment to settle down from your high and pulls his fingers from you.  He presses a chaste kiss to your clit which makes you squeak at the over stimulation.

As you come back to life, panting breath slowing, he sits up on his knees and smiles at you.

“So, are all the rumors true?  Am I good?”  He looks smug and as much as you want to slap it off him, you can’t when he’s covered in your slick and looking incredibly sexy while doing so.

“Yeah, you’re good,” you breathe.   He grins back at you and moves to lay next to you on the bed.  You snuggle up beside him and throw your arm and leg over him.  It feels as if you’ve been doing this for years, as if this isn’t the first time you’re being intimate with your best friend of two decades.

After your breath settles completely, he looks over at you with a smile.

“You ready for round two?” He asks.

You’re moving and straddling his hips, rubbing against the hard length in his jeans.

“You know it, daddy.”

His hands quickly move to unbutton his jeans and shove them down and off his body.

“Well,” he quips with his signature grin. “We better get down to Jin’s-ness.”

© ppersonna - 2020 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.