#but only will be accepting the ten minute live version of this song

[apr1cots]

it’s good to be king

The mirror was cracked. Broken. Slashed from one corner to its opposite. From where Draco sat, it cut his face in two. The charm still worked, and he couldn’t pretend it wasn’t the sole reason for his visit. His solemn trek from the small garden shed that was supposed to be temporary, but had been his only lodging for much longer than he cared to admit, was always silent and pitiful. 

The magic of the Manor was broken: beyond repair, he feared. He couldn’t bring himself to attempt reparations.The shredded tapestries, cracked walls, and deserted portraits reminded him of that in which he’d taken part. Somewhere, deep inside, relief flared almost like hope at the attestation that he could still feel something, even if it was guilt that sizzled in his blood, and loneliness that pulled his bones apart. 

When he reached his childhood bedroom, the now dulled greens and silvers that had once been so comforting whispered their welcome and tempted him never to leave again. To Draco’s credit, the thought made him sick. 

He sat in front of the mirror. It had once been so full of joy. He remembered vividly the day it had cracked. He’d escaped to his room, panicked and desperate and scared. He’d stared in the mirror, seeing his reflection there as it always was. Pleasant, rich, royal, crowned. The mirror was charmed to show him as a Prince. As above the rest. No matter how he looked in reality, there in the mirror he was everything his selfish child-self had dreamed. Swathed in silks and velvets, perfectly rested and beautiful. Otherworldly in a way. 

That day, the day he’d been marked, he’d stared in the mirror and seen that perfect, unmarred Draco. Smooth skin, not a flaw. But the image had come to represent something he hated. He’d flung a curse at the perfect glass, surrounded in silver and crystal, desperate to see the truth. To see the dark shadows under his eyes and the death permanently branded on his arm. 

It hadn’t worked. Prince Draco had stared back, almost smiling. Broken Draco had cried, sobbed, but couldn’t see his own tears. 

Now, Draco sat in front of the mirror once again. Once again, relishing in his imaginary reign. Older now, his crown was larger, his robes more intricate. 

It was good to be king. 

Draco never knew how long he spent in front of the mirror, but was loath to admit that no matter how early he arrived, by the time he escaped the Manor, his cloak was the stars. 

He returned to his shed, ate his plain crackers and expiring cheese and laid in his simple bed, willing sleep to take him. He imagined his mirror image, retreating to a banquet of fine foods, courses of delicacies, surrounded by a fawning mass. 

When Draco woke, time eluded him. Dark clouds dampened the light filtering in and his bones ached. He yearned, but he didn’t know what for. It was exhausting to sleep and exhausting to be awake.

wip mondeeeee???? 

im trying to write again for the sake of my soul or perhaps the destruction of it and i thought what a fun place to start but in your own WIPs and then i read them all and idk where the h e double hockey sticks i was going w it but maybe if i post it ill be inspired to pick it up in some sort of direction, correct or not. i dont even remember how harry played into this all, but he’s there in this world somewhere waiting to whisper to me where he lives.

[meraki24601]

Dawn

Whumptober day 11! I made it farther than I expected lol. I ended up using both the song lyrics and the object: “All the lights going dark and my hope’s destroyed.” and animal trap.

-----------*-***-*-----------

Whumpee’s fangs cut their lower lip as they snarled and bit at the hunter approaching through the trees. The bear trap clamped down on their ankle clenched tighter as they lunged, a warning not to come any closer. White hot pain shot from the cold iron trap around their ankle and up their spine, twisting their powerful growl into a howl of agony.

“I set that trap out in hopes of catching one of the giant wild boar destroying my garden.” The hunter rolled their shoulders, their gun shining in the moonlight. “I never would have dreamed it was a disgusting vampire stealing my crops. What were you doing with them? Your kind doesn’t eat vegetables.”

This hunter seemed to be a reasonable one, if angry at Whumpee’s presence. They stopped to talk calmly instead of wasting bullets likely not made for killing their kind. Taking an unnecessary breath to block out the pain, Whumpee lowered their head, “My sincere apologies. My actions were uncouth, tainted with ignorance and fear. I am not the one stealing your crops. My purpose here is only to pass through. I did not know this land had been claimed. If you will release me, I will gladly help you hunt the boar you seek as payment for further safe passage.”

“You must think I am a fool.” The hunter’s voice was colder than the steel chaining Whumpee to the earth. “I know what you are. I know what your kind do. Should I release you from the trap, you would kill me, my family, and the entire surrounding village.”

“I swear, I would not. I swear to you, if you release me, I will not drink a single drop of blood until I have passed on from here. One hundred leagues to the east, if I must. You have my word. Should you not know, a vampire’s word-” 

“Is meaningless. I know how your promises bind your kind. It means nothing. You promise to spare that which is mine with the same mouth you swear to kill that which is another’s. The blood you spill will not be on my hands.” With the finality of a king condemning a criminal, the hunter turned and began to walk away.

“Please! Listen for just one moment more. I am not a murderer as you think I am. Surely, you have heard rumors of the vampires of the East? Those who drink the blood of animals instead of man? That is where I am heading. To join my brothers and sisters there. We wish to end the death and fighting so this Earth can thrive.”

The hunter was silent for a moment, frozen on the edge of the clearing. “Vampire, what is your name? How long have you existed in this world as a vampire?”

“Whumpee, my friend. I am nearing eight hundred years.”

“Tales of the vampires who feast on animals have only begun within the past fifty years. It is not only the potential of future lives lost that condemns you, but the mourning of those who have already passed.” The hunter resumed their walk into the trees, disappearing until all that was left was the solemn sound of their voice echoing in the clearing, “I leave you with this: if there is an afterlife for your kind, may you rest in peace.”

Nature’s version of silence has always been loud. Bugs, and birds, and beasts of the night called to the sky, reminding the world they were still alive. With the hunter’s lantern gone and Whumpee’s torch extinguished on the ground, the only light in the clearing came from the Moon, stars, and the ten fireflies dancing close by. 

Whumpee knew others were traveling East that night. Some whose path may bring them near enough to hear Whumpee’s call. Accepting one last hope, Whumpee settled against the tree, counting the small flashing bugs to pass the time.

Twenty minutes passed. One of the lights stopped appearing.

An hour. Two more lights were smothered by the night. Whumpee’s leg was numb. At least they didn’t have to worry about bleeding out before help could arrive.

When merely four flashing lights remained in the clearing, Whumpee began to cry. 

Three lights left. Whumpee’s voice broke as they screamed, “Help me, please! Is there anyone out there?”

Two tiny lights. The clearing was silent. Even the animals had gone to bed.

One light left.

Dawn.

Part 2

[droughtofapathy]

The Gilded Age's Broadway Divas: Dorothy Scott (Audra McDonald)

As Peggy Scott's pianist mother, Dorothy isn't afraid to give her husband a piece of her mind at every opportunity. Though enmeshed in bettering Black society up north, she worries for her daughter's safety down south. As she should.

Here she is boys, here she is world, the one you've all been waiting for. Six-time Tony winner Audra McDonald. *The* Broadway Diva. Our reigning queen. Our legend. Our great soprano. Audra has won more Tony Awards for performance than any other actor, and is the only one to have an award in each of the four competitive categories for which she is eligible (Best Leading Actress in a Play/Musical, Best Featured Actress in a Play/Musical). As such, she is one of three theatre greats to have nominations across said categories: the others being the late greats Jan Maxwell and Angela Lansbury. With ten nominations in total, she is tied with Julie Harris and Chita Rivera for most performance nominations and will certainly surpass them the next time she comes to Broadway.

Audra McDonald's repertoire is so vast that this post became the hardest to narrow down. I have elected to highlight a little of everything: songs from shows that deserve a little more love here on Tumblr, Audra favorites, obscure gems, etc.

#1: "The Glamorous Life," Sondheim's 80th Birthday Celebration (2010)

We have no choice but to start with Sondheim. The third of six performers in the iconic Ladies in Red segment of the Sondheim 80th Birthday Concert, Audra takes on this exquisite A Little Night Music number sung by the teenaged Frederika in the movie version (we don't talk about it).

Among Sondheim standards such as "The Ladies Who Lunch" (Patti LuPone) and "Losing My Mind" (Marin Mazzie), some considered the inclusion of this number a little misplaced. I adore it.

According to the Word of God (Donna Murphy), some of the Ladies in Red were being sewed or even taped into their dresses just minutes before taking the stage.

#2: Lady Day at Emmerson's Bar and Grill (2014)

Though this particular show features music throughout and has a phenomenal cast album, it is classified as a "play with music," thus Audra was able to win her multi-record-breaking Tony in 2014. She plays the iconic Billie Holiday in 1959 at the tail end of her career. Here, she performs in a run-down nightclub and grows increasingly drunk and demoralized throughout the evening. It is an incredible piece of both singing and acting.

#3: "As You Make Your Bed," Rise and Fall of the City of Mahagonny (2007)

Though the costume is something I feel we should all bear witness to, Audra's demonstration of her full operatic range adds another layer of excellence. A Weill and Brecht collaboration, Rise and Fall of the City of Mahogonny was first performed in 1930. This clip is from the 2007 Los Angeles Opera production starring Audra and Patti LuPone. Audra plays Jenny Smith, "a whore." The production was recorded for PBS's Great Productions and won two Grammy Awards.

Truly, is there anything Audra can't do?

#4: "Wheels of a Dream," Ragtime Reunion (2023)

Ragtime. Oh, Ragtime. That we live in a world where Ahrens and Flaherty's magnum opus lost Best Musical to The Lion King is my villain origin story. Natasha Richardson (Cabaret) beating out Marin Mazzie for Leading Actress is something I have to accept, but this? In 1998, Ragtime won Best Book, Best Original Score, Best Orchestrations, and Best Featured Actress for Audra McDonald's glorious Sarah. Sarah is a young woman at the turn of the century who has a baby with Brian Stokes Mitchell's (Broadway's Leading Man) Coalhouse Walker, and is taken in by Mother (Marin Mazzie), an upper-class white woman with no name after she is caught having partially buried the living child in Mother's yard. It is a masterpiece of musical talent with a breathtaking score and story.

This role won Audra her third Tony in the span of five years. Listening to Audra and Stokes reunite may well be the closest you ever get to hearing divinity. I implore you to seek out the full original cast album.

A reunion concert was planned for April 2020, but was postponed until this past year with Kelli O'Hara stepping in for the late Marin Mazzie as Mother. The concert was done as a benefit for the Entertainment Community Fund, and dedicated in memory of Marin, who passed away in 2018 from ovarian cancer, book-writer Terrence McNally who died of COVID complications in 2020 (lung cancer), and director Frank Galati, who died in 2023, also of cancer complications.

#5: Master Class (1995)

Master Class is yet another Terrence McNally work, this one a play depicting a fictionalized master class given by opera singer Maria Callas towards the end of her life. Audra, as Sharon, takes the part of her student, the second soprano. This play won Audra her second Tony, and garnered a Tony for the brilliant leading actress Zoe Caldwell, whom Audra partially named her firstborn child after some years later. Her daughter's middle name is in honor of Audra's other close friend, the late Madeline Kahn, who like Marin Mazzie, died of ovarian cancer at 57, the same age, though many years prior.

LINK TO MASTERPOST

[what-if-nct]

hi hi hi today's reminder is a list of nct members i expect/want to see releasing solo albums (excluding taeyong bc he already has one out, dojaejung bc I have a strong feeling sm wants to push the unit as opposed to the solos, and markhyuck bc i will pay big money for them to take a nap):

1. ten: call me delusional but it is definitely happening by the end of 2024. he can sing, he can rap, he can dance, he speaks 618292 languages, he has the visuals, he has the brand recognition plus he's heavily associated with taem (hit the stage and superm) and i just Know they're gonna push him as the next taemin

2. taeil: at least a mini album before he has to enl*st or i will fucking riot

3. yuta: much like ten - can rap, can sing, can dance, beautiful specimen of a human man, super funny, plus he is one of the most popular members worldwide. it would make Big numbers, but it seems unlikely because he'd eat up nct japan. I'd still love to see it tho, i adore his voice

4. winwin: i just know even in a full solo album he'll end up with a collective 2 minutes of lines and I'm very curious how that would work

5. chenle: my baby. dream has a solid vocal line, so i wouldn't call it a hard carry , but he definitely is the backbone (watch their killing voice, he is the soul of their live singing) of their vocals. the harmonies, the ad libs, and he absolutely kills his own parts, and he's super versatile. this is one of the more unlikely ones on this list but I'd be very interested in listening to that

7. renjun: brilliant singer, i love his voice, he has such a pretty tone that deserves to shine more. also it would top the charts because each and every nct member would buy five of each version just to collect all the photocards. they could ask sm but they wanna do it right. want a fansign call? good luck, you're going up against 20 grown men who would kill for him no questions asked

8. xiaojun: he has never not been the star of a song he's on. take off, moonwalk, make a wish. he's the resonance era golden boy, just a well of potential. the boy is a Star

9. yangyang: universe era golden boy. he's quickly reached Mark/taeyong/Doyoung levels of fitting every single song, and has the unique advantage of sm knowing this and actually putting him on songs. again - sings, dances, raps, models, very funny boy. he has the Range

10. Kun: who's surprised here? honestly his voice is so severely underutilised, it hurts my heart, he has the absolute prettiest singing voice. give him the reins like taeyong and he'll produce an absolute masterpiece

bonus duos bc i thought of some while i was writing those:

1. any/all pairs out of xiaojun, renjun and yangyang: renyang bc besties and their voices would compliment each other, junjun because their unbreakable love cover is the third most watched youtube video in my history, xiaoyang bc again would compliment each other super well and it'd be a fun mixup in the wayv Duos

2. renjun and winwin: i just need to see the rest of them spontaneously combust

3. taeil and chenle: your honour in my heart they are Besties

4. Kun and Chenle: obviously

5. Johnny and Hendery: they would vibe. i know they barely know each other right now but i just believe they would Vibe. also you specifically would love it, and the world should revolve around your wants and needs

Hiiii! Ten definitely has a solo album around the corner. Like he's definitely been preparing for it like if not by year's end for sure in the beginning of next year. Like its just inevitable. I'd even just accept an ep from Taeil. Something cause once Sehun enlists it's only a matter of time for Taeil. Plus Taeil is injured so just one solo song will do. Till he returns.

I hope yuta does a rock album, like its just so him and needs to happen. If Yuta brings back screaming from kpops distant short visual kei past. Like a full rock album from Yuta would be everything. I also have songs I'd like for him to cover. Hatefuck - Motionless in white, Closer - Nine inch nails, Sinematic - Motionless in white, throne - bring me the horizon, I have a playlist I'll just send it to him.

Sweet baby Renjun, definitely needs a solo album soon, his voice is so pretty and needs to be highlighted. Chenle too!! Oooh and a Renjun and Chenle duet would be wonderful. Xiaojun, just put him in the studio and let him go it's what the world needs. I would love to see a Yangyang solo, I loved lowlow so much I need more Yangyang. I would like for him to also cover peach by yixing, it would just fit him. It's what Yixing would want. Of course Kun needs to have an album, it would be a beautiful album of ballads with just one unhinged song that no one expected.

Speaking of Yixing, I need Winwin to really go for it. I want multiple solo albums from Winwin and for his career to really prosper in China, make sm beg him to comeback but he's just too famous and busy. I used to be worried but I need Winwin to get only the best and succeed. But I really feel like SM is purposely holding him back cause they know the power he'd have.

Speaking of hear me out Renjun, Yangyang and Winwin, there's some untapped power there and I kinda need that. We have more than enough proof how good Kun, Taeil and Chenle are together, it's just destined. Yessss Hendery and Johnny would be best friends if they aren't already. And you are too kind but if I had one wish granted by sm it would be Hendery and Johnny duet that's it. Also Johnny, Jungwoo, Jaemin and Hendery there's something here. Not just cause they're all my biases. They're all the same level of weird and a little out of their minds. I don't even want a song. Just put them in a room alone with a camera I want to see what happens.

[coffeecat1983]

I Can Only Hope (Mario movie: Tony and Arthur fluff)

   Tony put his arm around Arthur's shoulders and gave him a squeeze as his brother wiped away a few tears.      "She's beautiful, Art, absolutely beautiful." Arthur placed a hand on the glass of the maternity ward window, looking in at the little bundle. "Yeah, she is." he agreed softly. He followed his older twin over to the waiting area. It was past ten at night and quiet in the massive Brooklyn hospital.      "Marie doin' okay?" Tony asked.      "She's sore but okay, sleeping right now. God, eighteen hours of labor. I gotta admit I got scared there for a while."    Tony nodded. "Not the only one with that." He got up and stretched. "I'm gonna hunt down some of that gawd-awful coffee they usually have. You want anything?"    Arthur just chuckled and shook his head. He sat back, becoming lost in thought. After a few minutes Tony returned with a bottle in his hand.      "No coffee so over-sugared, over-caffeinated pop it is." he joked, twisting the cap. He offered the first drink to his brother, who accepted.      "You look a little lost there," he commented as Arthur handed the bottle back, "what's on your mind?"      "Just wondering what she'll be like. Same like we did with the boys. What will she sound like, will she take after her mom, or me," he nudged Tony with a grin, "will she be a miniature version of her Uncle?"      "Heh, yeah, will she be like me?" he said softly. He reached up, fingers lightly tracing over the earbuds the hung around his neck. The base of Arthur's skull prickled.      "What's wrong?" he asked, placing a hand on Tony's arm.      "I just, I hope she's not like me." he turned and stared out the window at the streetlights that glowed in the night. "I want her to be like you, not broken like I am."    Arthur's heart sank at his words. "Tony…" he stopped when Tony shook his head.      "I mean it, Art, just look at me. I'm not a kid anymore and I still can't function without something to focus on, I still get overwhelmed constantly, I'm lucky I found a job I can actually do and that my boss isn't an ass about me needing to work alone!" He put his head in his hands. "I mean with the boys at least Luigi has Mario, and he's not exactly like me, he can handle more than I can."    He looked up, startled as Arthur moved the chair and sat so they were face to face.      "Tony, don't think like that." Arthur said firmly. "You have no idea, but I wish I could see the world like you do. You and Luigi, you connect with things in ways I can't even begin to imagine. Yeah, I like music, but when you talk about how it physically feels good, how you can see each song…" Arthur let out a faint laugh, "I was so jealous of that when we were kids. I still am. When I see you find a new piece of music, and you get that look in your eyes, I just…" He looked towards the maternity window again. "I can only hope she gets to see things like you do. And I know she'd be okay because she'd have you to help guide her."    He reached out and took Tony's hands. "And if she doesn't, if she's not got that mind for it, I still hope you'll show her, share with her the way you see the world. Nothing would make me happier."    Tony let out a soft sob, grabbing his twin in a tight hug. Arthur wrapped his arms around him before pulling back, resting his forehead against Tony's. "I've said it before, you're not broken, you're my best friend."

5 years later…    Tony was reclining in his favorite chair in the living room, reading when he felt a tug on his arm.      "Unka Tony?"      "Hey kiddo," he reached down and lifted Bria into his lap. "Whatcha got there?"    She held out her little music player. "I gots new music!" She peered at his neck, moving his shirt collar around. "Need bubs."    He laughed and reaching into his pocket, pulled out his carefully rolled up earbuds.      "Okay, I got my bubs." he said. She handed him the simple little music player and he plugged them in, testing the volume before handing one to her and placing the other in his own ear.      "What song we got?" he asked. She skillfully clicked the buttons and the soundtrack to the newest animated movie she had just seen came up. Tony smiled as he saw her wiggle her toes along to the playful tune.      "You like this one a lot, huh?" he asked.      "Yeah!" She looked up at him. "Happy wibbles?" she used the term he taught her, it was his way of describing what music made him feel. Tony listened to the melody a little more before kissing her head.      "Yeah kiddo, happy wibbles."

By "CC"

[ribcagecarnival]

NO. 7 (ON VILLAINY)

2021 may have begun with Olivia Rodrigo controlling the narrative, but it may very well end with Joshua Bassett at the wheel.

I’ll put the usual disclaimers--I don’t know any of these children personally, and I don’t know what actually went down behind the scenes at the turn of the last decade when a supposed love triangle supposedly fractured the hearts and egos of all involved and led to some midlevel Internet drama which ultimately took a backseat to the genuine article--Sour, the 18-year-old Rodrigo’s record-shattering debut LP. In case you missed it: Rodrigo and Bassett started dating in secret while playing an onscreen couple in a Disney+ High School Musical spinoff, Bassett broke up with Rodrigo because of their age difference - he’s almost 21 - and in a suspiciously short amount of time began dating and cutely posting with 22-year-old Sabrina Carpenter, another artist and Disney alum. Teenage digital sleuths searched for Easter eggs in the style of Rodrigo’s biggest influence, Taylor Swift, while I became consumed with the parallel’s between Rodrigo’s experience and my own--feeling disproportionately large affection for men who can never reciprocate, drowning in insecurity over the Eurocentric beauty standard that makes being cast aside in favor of a fair-skinned blonde take on an extra sharp edge, splashing the thinly veiled narrative of my heartbreak across the web. That, instead of the logistics and timeline of the real people involved, was my Met Gala.

The culture-defining “drivers license” was Sour’s lead single, and its chokehold on the popular imagination has persisted even though it dropped way back in January. Perhaps the only narrative powerful enough to displace was the tale at the center of Taylor Swift’s Red rerelease, the storied ten-minute (and explicit!) version of “All Too Well” that did its own record-breaking and spawned an endless scroll of TikTok speculation about what the scarf really means and what Jake Gyllenhaal’s publicist must be doing right now. Again, I’m less concerned with what actually happened--it’s none of my business anyway--and more with what it means for every young woman who’s ever fallen for a withholding, condescending older guy. (Admittedly though I’m concerned with the scarf. I totally thought the scarf was a metaphor. Apparently it’s a real scarf and he actually stole it AND THEN WORE IT? AND WAS PHOTOGRAPHED IN IT? Dude. Major party foul.)

It’s worth noting that Taylor Swift, like many songwriters of her ilk of all genders, has dated fewer songwriters than non-songwriters. Even though John Mayer famously used “Paper Doll” as a late retort to “Dear John,” there are few examples of musical rebuttal to the Taylor Swift Cinematic Universe. Frankly, I don’t have strong feelings about that either way. While I’m ravenous for “Style (Taylor’s Version) (feat. Harry Styles),” I will be able to go on living if it doesn’t happen. I’ve come to expect that musical explorations of relationships will flatten and distort the facts; I accept them as autofiction rather than pure autobiography; I listen knowing I will never understand the story that inspired it completely.

Enter Joshua Bassett, on the precipice of dropping a three-song EP that seems to be the auditory equivalent of a “reply all.”

Bassett has been teasing each of the three tracks on TikTok; the first one I saw opened with the line “my label said to never waste a crisis.” Clearly he’s going for directness. The songs seem to tackle hate, regret, defiance, fear--it’s a sort of anti-apoplexy, choosing to write instead of fight or fly. It’s apparent that he wants to have this conversation on his own terms. When Saturday Night Live spoofed “drivers license,” Bassett took the sharpest line at his own expense and turned it into merch (if you look up “my bitch ex Gina is Joshua Bassett,” a link to a long-sleeve bearing the slogan on his website appears). But aside from that admittedly hilarious marketing move, and posting vague messages of support about Rodrigo’s success, he’s remained quiet. His own release earlier this year didn’t seem related to Rodrigo’s aside from timing, and his public persona has been more about Harry Styles than his relationship status. Sabrina Carpenter, the “blonde girl,” released her own confusing addition to the chaos with “Skin,” which, in addition to being bizarrely braggadocious, lacked the precision and pathos of Rodrigo’s work. But now, Joshua Bassett has decided it’s his time to speak.

Bassett is much harder to paint as a villain than Gyllenhaal. The main reason is that the couple split apart on Rodrigo’s Sour is comprised of two young people, whereas the narrative on Red is about an older man who should have known better than to get involved with a girl who was newly 21. Additionally, Sour seems to traffic in gray areas--“you didn’t cheat, but you’re still a traitor,” “and I just can’t imagine how you could be so okay now that I’m gone,” “I guess the therapist I found for you, she really helped.” Compare that, then, with the details unraveled by the ten-minute version of “All Too Well” - “I’ll get older but your lovers stay my age,” “you call me up again just to break me like a promise,” “any time now, he’s gonna say it’s love, you never called it what it was.” In my view, part of the enjoyment of Sour was how much pain you can feel even if the other person isn’t an outright villain. It’s about how there is no way good or fair way to break someone’s heart, how seeing your ex with someone new can sting no matter how much time passes. What’s compelling, then, is Bassett writing his half of the story, grappling with the guilt of breaking the heart of someone he genuinely cared for, the limits of grace when you, too, are a child trying to love and be loved, and the world is hell-bent on calling you the problem. Admittedly, I thought back to a failed almost-relationship of my own, when my subtweets about the grief wounded the person who left me. Time has passed and we are friends and we both finally see each other for who we are--not egomaniacs, not dreams or ideals, but people.

I don’t know what I’ll ultimately think of the new Joshua Bassett project. But I think its entry into the cultural zeitgeist will force a conversation about relationships that we’ve been unable to have. For so long, people--largely women--were manipulated, abused, and broken by traumatic relationships, and the people carrying out that abuse were left unchecked. With the #MeToo movement, it has become a lot harder to dispute the pain caused by those kinds of relationships. But now the collective consciousness is failing to imagine anything beyond the binary of abuse vs. not abuse, criminal vs. legal. There is pain outside of trauma; there is trauma at scale; there is regret and there is harm and there is heartbreak. Maybe, just maybe, one day we will have room in our hearts and our culture for people to fall and to fail and then, eventually, to try again. 

[abused-sides]

All Too Well [Chapter One: pieces into place]

A/N: LET’S GOOOOOOO

This is based off the ten minute version of Taylor Swift's All Too Well! This song has meant a lot to me for YEARS and the ten minute version PERFECTLY describes an abusive relationship. I love it.

THE AIR WAS COLD. 

Stepping through the threshold, the heat seemed to melt your insides. That was a good thing, probably. Behind you, wall-like, stands E, ushering you forwards. He took your scarf and hung it on the hook. Your eyes stuck to it as you moved deeper into the house. You should have grabbed it. Ducked and wove past E, grabbed the scarf, kept going. Out of the door, out of the house. Nothing good lies in these footsteps you’re treading. Go, go, go.

Stepping through the threshold, your fingers thaw into sensation again, allowing you to feel Roman’s hand in yours as it leads you ahead of him, dance-like. He closes the door as you place your scarf on the hook, and catches the way your eyes stick on it.

“Hey,” he says, moving into your eyeline. You stare back, barely. “Flashback?”

You feel your feet on the floor and nod. He opens his arms and you fall into them, pressing deeper. 

You stay there, and it will be okay.

You’re home.

xxx

There is already a purple scarf on the hook that E drops your hat onto. It’s not his colour, but you can hardly judge. Your head feels bare now, and you can almost feel your hair’s lack of control, but E said his family would fall for you just like he did, no matter what. You still smooth down your bleach-blond curls. 

You plaster on the realest smile you can manage as you enter the living room. A woman and a man are seated on the couch. The woman, E’s mom, presumably, reaches forward and mutes the television. She smiles brightly, but her eyes are tired. You accept her all-too-eager hug with the same ferocity, though you’re not sure why she’s so invested. You don’t want to let go. A mother’s hug is foreign. 

“You must be Casper,” his dad says, standing to shake your hand. You’ve heard people are more fond of hard handshakes, so you grip his palm firmly and only let go when he does. “We’ve heard a lot about you, but I gotta say, E here didn’t tell us how young you were. He can’t possibly be as young as he looks, right?”

He looks like he’s teasing, but what if he’s not? What if you’re supposed to take this seriously and you make it into a joke? What a horrible first impression. 

“He’s nineteen.” E rests a hand on your shoulder. “It’s not a big deal.”

The conversation swept away from you. You find yourself seated next to E on the loveseat, exchanging niceties and slowly getting more comfortable. By the time dinner rolls around, E’s mom, Patricia, is already calling you her third son. 

“You have a brother?” You ask at one point. No one answers. 

You’re walking to the bathroom when a photo on the wall catches your attention. Your purple hair was in your eyes, so you didn’t notice the camera until it was too late. Face bright red, you buried it further into E’s chest, who laughed and cuddled you close. 

“Mom!” E had cried. 

You jump. When had E gotten here? 

“Why do you still have this picture here?” He calls, and rips it off the wall. “Ignore that, baby, I’m sorry.” 

He ushers you towards the bathroom. 

The purple-haired boy sticks in your mind, all throughout the day. You find yourself staring at the spot on the wall where the picture had been as you and E leave. 

Patricia and Renold walk you two out the door. With a cold hand on your face, Patricia pulls you in for another bone-crushing hug. You hug her back. 

“You come ‘round here anytime,” she insists. “E or no E. You’re family now.”

“You’re embarrassing him,” E warns, but you’re smiling. 

Renold shakes your hand, and the two of you leave. 

“How much time do you have?” E asks as he pulls out of the driveway. 

You smile and wave at his parents until they’re out of sight. Leaning back in the seat, you say, “A few hours. Mom wants her dinner by ten.”

“I’ll get you home by nine,” he says, and pulls onto the highway. 

The sun is setting, casting quick shadows over speeding cars. E reaches over and takes your hand. You fiddle with the radio and sing at the top of your lungs, E looking over at you with a grin. You grin back. You could fall in love with this man, if only he kept looking at you like that. 

It’s an hour later you realize E is lost. “Don’t worry,” he says. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you home on time.”

And somehow, he does. By god, does he get you home at nine on the dot. He gives you a quick kiss, but when you go to leave, he locks the door. 

“I have a question.” 

Gathering your stuff with one hand on the handle, you nod. “Yeah, what is it?”

He reaches over and coaxes the stuff out of your palms to lace your fingers. He kisses your knuckles. 

“Look at me.”

You do. 

His eyes are dark, like the space between stars. You long to bring life to that galaxy, cities to the cosmos. 

“I know this is soon, and I want you to feel comfortable saying no… but I don’t like where you live. Why don’t you just… move in with me?”

Your jaw drops. Your hands were shaking. Adrenaline rushes. 

“Virgil?” Roman asks and the leather was pressed to your legs, sticking with sweat. 

You’re so excited, you were so terrified, you could throw up. 

“Look at me. What’s going on in that head of yours?” 

“Yes,” you gasp, and throw yourself into his arms. 

And he hugged you. He hugged you so tight. 

Like he’ll never let go. 

And two years later, sitting in a puddle of your own tears and snot, you’ll wish he had.

a/n: Okay if you didn't get that... I don't blame you lol. But here's a hint: past tense is usually virgil's pov, and present tense is usually casper's. 

[realcube]

jealous || kei tsukishima x reader

summary ♡ songfic! kageyama cheats on you and since tsukishima has had to suppress his crush on you for so long, he doesn’t know how to act

song ♡ jealous by eyedress

tw ♡ angst, cheating, cussing, fem! reader, violence 

part two ♡ crybaby ( 1 / 2 )

‘you could have anyone you want, why would you want to be with me?’

➼

Tsukishima thought, watching as you finished telling him the story behind your broken nail, waving him goodbye before skipping over to the side of your boyfriend who just exited the changing rooms, probably to go tell him the exact same story. 

Although your little stories annoyed the living hell out of him, it pained him to think that you’d share them with some cunt like Kageyama who probably didn’t give two shits. 

It might’ve seemed like he was annoyed by your stories too but in reality, your natural charm was enough to keep him hooked on every word you uttered. And that charm was probably the reason you were liked and known by almost everyone in the school - and due to your appearance, it was no surprise that most guys at the school had their eyes set on you. 

So this whole time Tsukishima was aware that there would be competition if he was going to ask you out. 

➼

 ‘you know, i’m nothing special. be with whoever you want.’ 

➼

Tobio Kageyama. Number nine, Karasuno’s first line-up setter - Tsukishima’s teammate. Of course, Tsukishima felt quite bad that he resented Kageyama so much - all over a girl - but in his defence, that girl was (Y/N) and it’s not like Kageyama was humble about it either. In fact, he’d make it a point to talk about all the things he did with (Y/N) whenever he thought Tsukishima was in earshot.

Also, you can’t blame Tsukishima for thinking that you were too good for Kageyama.. because you are. The only reason you two were together was because all the girls started shipping you two together after a video of him as your partner for a rather titillating salsa routine started floating around the school. 

The people saying that y’all would make a cute couple gave Kageyama the confidence to ask you out and of course you said yes; why wouldn’t you? Kageyama was the embodiment of everything girls loved: tall, atheletic, passionate (for volleyball), a himbo, cold and emotionally unavailable. 

While Tsukishima was almost identical; he was 4 out of those 6 things that girls loved - he wasn’t a himbo, fortunately. Neither was he emotionally unavailable. You even said yourself one time - before you formally met Kageyama - that you just thought he was a flavourless version of Tsukishima.

➼

‘i don’t care. i don’t care.’

➼

Perhaps it was just his ego speaking but Tsukishima was almost certain that if he were to have asked you out before Kageyama, you would’ve said yes. 

So, why didn’t he?

Well, he planned on asking you to be his girlfriend the same day that Kageyama did - Valentine’s Day - but at the last minute, he chickened out and the letter he had spent 3 hours making for you ended up in the trash. As for the chocolates he bought, he gave them to Yamaguchi. Curse his crippling insecurities! 

To be fair, the only reason Kageyama had the confidence or any interest in you whatsoever was due to all the girls perpetuating the idea that y’all would be a cute couple.

Tsukishima sighed as he recalled the first time you ever interacted with Kageyama. You had a dance project which involved creating your own salsa routine and either filming yourself doing it or performing it in front of the class - you asked Tsukishima if he’d assist you by being your dance partner and obviously he said no. Your next best bet was Hinata, so you explained your situation to him and as you know; where ever there is Hinata, there is Kageyama. So he overheard your dilemma and apparently he took dance classes all throughout middle school so he offered to help. Although you had never talked to Kageyama before that day, you still accepted his offer due to the tricky situation you were in.

It frustrated Tsukishima so much at the thought that if he had just swallowed his pride and danced with you, he wouldn’t be feeling a striking pain in his chest at the sight of you intimately kissing Kageyama while he stood there like a statue.

Once he realised what he was doing, he immediately averted his eyes, a sigh escaping his lips as he tried to convince himself that he was neutral about what he just witnessed. 

He didn’t care that you were dating someone who didn’t even care about you. He didn’t care about the fact he would’ve treated you ten times better than Kageyama ever could. He didn’t care about how close you were to Kageyama. He was simply unable to give a single fuck about the fact he still loved you. 

➼

‘i don’t wanna know. don’t tell me about your problems if you’re not trying to solve them.’

➼

“And then I told him to fuck off and my mum got all mad and she was like ‘don’t swear at a 6 year-old!’ but then I was like, ‘Mum, he literally-” 

Tsukishima rolled his eyes, you’ve been rambling to him about your shitty experiences babysitting for a good few minutes now but he was simply unable to pay attention. Not when every time he thought of you, his mind instantly focussed on the bruise you had on your neck which he had merely caught a glimpse of this morning, but that was enough to make him feel sick to his stomach. “Do you ever stop talking? Why not tell these stories to someone who cares? Where’s Kageyama?”

You pouted, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning back in your chair - by now, you were used to him being a bitch to you but recently, he’s been acting especially rude, even Yamaguchi was taken back at how uncalled for his remark was.  “Did I do something wrong? Why are you so mean all of a sudden?”

Something about your disappointed tone made Tsukishima’s heart sink, although he wasn’t sure why that was considering he undoubtedly didn’t care about how you felt - you could start crying for all he cared. 

“You’re just way more annoying than you used to be.” That was the first excuse Tsukishima could come up with but if he was being completely honest, he didn’t even notice his change in behaviour. “It’s probably all that time hanging out shittyama.”

“Tsukki!” Yamaguchi snapped, hunching forward over his table to flick his blonde friend on the back of his neck. “I agree with (Y/N), you’ve been kinda crass lately.”

You nodded at Yamaguchi’s statement, “Emphasis on the ass.” 

It took every bone in Tsukishima’s body to resist snickering at your stupid comment and keep a straight face, “Can you blame me? (Y/N) is the one who never stops complaining like geez, get a grip - nobody cares.”

➼

‘don’t ask me for my help. fix it yourself.’

➼

Honestly, Tsukishima wasn’t surprised when you ended up calling him at 1am, crying about how Kageyama cheated on you.

I mean, it was clear that he was only with you for sexual relief as he didn’t show the slightest bit of romantic interest in anyone - and you were too blinded by puppy love to notice that his perception didn’t widen beyond volleyball. 

In a way, Tsukishima felt quite bad for you as this was your first relationship and anybody would be heartbroken if they were cheated on but somehow he had managed to gaslight himself into believing that he truly didn’t give a fuck about how you felt. That’s why the call definitely didn’t go as well as he hoped. 

“Kei..” You spoke in a low voice in hopes that he wouldn’t realise that you were crying straight away but your faint sobs were a dead giveaway. “Are you busy?”

Tsukishima grumbled, sitting up on his bed and sliding his glasses up his nose, not having taken them off as just before you called him he was scrolling through Reddit anyway. “Eh? What is so important that you had to call me at 3 in the morning?”

“Kageyama cheated on me!” You wailed into your phone, struggling to keep it together even when you weren’t with Tsukishima face-to-face. “S-Sorry I called you. I just, um, I just needed to tell someone and the first person I thought of was you.” That wasn’t a complete lie. I mean, you did try calling Yamaguchi before you resorted to calling Tsukishima because Yamaguchi would undeniably be more compassionate in this situation. However, if it wasn’t for Tsukishima’s recent attitude problems, you probably would’ve called him first,

Upon hearing you say that, his heart fluttered - this should’ve been the first giveaway that he still liked you - but he chose to ignore it, sticking to the idea that you annoyed him and he definitely did not want to kiss your forehead, cuddle you under his sheets and reassure you that you’re out of Kageyama’s league anyway.

“Sorry, (Y/N).” Tsukishima spoke softly. This change of tone giving you the slightest bit of hope that you had finally managed to get through to him and maybe he was going to stop being so insolent and go back to being his old self - the Tsukishima that people actually liked. 

“Kei..” You mused, feeling your cheeks heat up at how nice and soothing his tired voice sounded. “I thi--”

“But that doesn’t sound like my problem. Good luck in dealing with it yourself, though.” 

With that last comment, he hung up, leaving you more upset than you were to begin with. 

➼

‘she tried to call me yesterday but i didn’t pick up because i don’t got time.’

➼

Tension was high at practice. Word had gotten out that Kageyama cheated on (L/N) and of course everyone’s opinion on him did a full 180 - nobody wants to train with a dirty cheater. 

This news should’ve been the highlight of Tsukishima’s month because not only is (Y/N) back on the market, Kageyama is getting the treatment he deserved for being so horrible to him and (Y/N). 

However, Tsukishima was far from pleased with everyone’s behaviour towards Kageyama because now they were all expecting confrontation and since Tsukishima was the one who already had beef with Kageyama, the team thought it would be best if it was him who approached the setter about the recent event. 

A horrible idea, in Tsukishima’s opinion. It wasn’t even the fact that he didn’t want to go any where near that milkboy but mostly because he didn’t even know what he’d say to the guy. What do you say in that situation? ‘Hey, man. We’d really appreciate it if you stopped being such a whore. It’s really killing the vibe.’

But lo and behold, here he was, standing across from Kageyama in the empty changing room. Desperately wracking through his brain to find the most appropriate thing to say, which was hard as Kageyama’s stare seemed to burn holes through Tsukishima’s glasses. Also, his mind was already pretty occupied by all the thoughts of how badly he wanted to beat the milkboy to the ground in (Y/N)’s honour. 

“What do you want, Tiredshima?” Kageyama inquired, scrunching up his empty milk box and casually throwing it aside, aiming for the bin but it ended up landing a few inches away from it.

Tsukishima tried to resist laughing at the milkboy’s failed attempt to look cool, “It’s-” Tsukishima wheezed slightly as a little bit of that laughter escaped before he took a moment to properly compose himself, “It’s about (Y/N)-”

At the mere mention of your name, the milkboy dipped. 

“Uh, where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Tsukishima spat, hastily reaching out to grab Kageyama’s wrist, yanking him back as soon as Tsukishima got a good grip on him. Resulting in the usually agile setter losing his balance and falling back, right onto his ass. 

“Don’t touch me!” Kageyama roared, rapidly scrambling to his feet, clenching his fist and snarling at Tsukishima who wore an astounded expression. “Do you have it out for me or something? What does (Y/N) have to do with anything?”

It was shocking how well Kageyama managed to paint the situation to make it seem like he was the innocent one when he was the one who broke a poor school girl’s heart after she showed him nothing but love - but Tsukishima wasn’t one to talk since he probably just added salt to her wound, like he always does, and he’d been thinking about it all night.

“Sorry, your highness, but maybe if you hopped off your throne for a moment and came down to reality to join the rest of us, you’d realise that the world doesn’t revolve around you. Do you know how much your shitty actions affected (Y/N)? She called me crying last night and..yeah.” His voice slowly drifted off as he remembered the events that occurred yesterday, you had called him in a vulnerable state and he simply told you to get to fuck.

Kageyama scoffed, brushing off the dust that clung to his clothes from when he was pulled to the ground, “Eh? Maybe you should practise what you preach.” Kageyama growled, baring his teeth - the little nickname Tsukishima had for him seriously made his blood boil. “She’d come to me on the verge of tears because you called her annoying and she thought you didn’t want to be her friend anymore.”

Tsukishima felt his heart tear apart at the thought of himself causing you so much emotional distress but you were half right, he didn’t want to be your friend - the wanted to be your boyfriend. If it wasn’t for a certain setter who’s name starts with ‘K’ and ends with ‘ageyama’, none of this would’ve happened and you’d happily be snuggled up in his arms while he played with your hair but no, Kageyama just had to get his dirty little setter hands on anything good.

“I mean,” Kageyama muttered, having clearly calmed down from five seconds ago, “She was kinda annoying, so I get why you’d say that. That’s why I did what I did, it wasn’t meant to spite her or hurt her feelings. You get what I mean, right?”

The ignorance; it made Tsukishima indescribably mad. (Y/N) wasn’t annoying - although Tsukishima might’ve heavily insinuated it, in the past - and the audacity Kageyama had to say that she was. Also, who in their right mind thinks that cheating is a rational reaction to irritation? 

Tsukishima wouldn’t consider himself a violent person but it was as though the bones in his body acted on their own when he delivered a full-force punch straight onto Kageyama’s cheek. And he didn’t regret it for a moment either - even when the milkboy starting pummelling him into the ground - as he figured that someone had to teach the dick a lesson, why not himself?

➼

‘i don’t have time. i don’t have time. i don’t have time. i don’t have time.’

➼

“Kei..hello? I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now but Yamaguchi told me that you were here and..I just wanted you to know that I, uh, am really sorry and I hope you get well soon.”

[lavenderwhore444]

My Hero

Dabi x Reader Warnings: Fluff, angst, very lovely romantic smut, swearing, violence but like punching walls and shit nothing big, Dabis backstory isn't spoiled I don't reveal his last name I swear, when he cries it's not like crying (obvi no tear ducts) but like the kind of crying where you’re crying but no tears come out

to use: input your name as y/n, I don't use your quirk in this. To input your quirk use y/q. To change different things click “change something other than y/n” and follow the directions.

InteractiveFics

Master List

@issamomma I hope it's tolerable ❤️

“Hey! I see your requests are open. In light of all the recent spoilers, can I ask for something very sappy and self indulgent? Can I get a large fluff angst Dabi combo where he goes off about being the most powerful villain but all he ever wanted to be was a hero and the only time he’s ever truly felt like a good man and like he’s #1 is with y/n? With a side of mild romantic smut but hold the gluten? Thanks. 💕🙏🏻 If not, no worries. I’m gonna stalk your page and read more of your stuff now.”

This story is like compressed if that makes sense for some reason my brain just smashed everything that happens into one day 😃🔫

Honestly, I might write another version? Idk but I CANT START OVER AGAIN

Here's a song I like

undefined

“G’morning Dabi, ” you said, rolling over to hold him.

When you were met with a Dabi-free bed, panic immediately set in.

You peeked through the door, “Dabi?” you called

“Right here, babe, ” he said from the kitchen.

The smell of syrup filled your nose, and you realized that Dabi, the number two villain, was making you pancakes. Your bare feet hit the soft carpet as you walked to him. You wrapped your arms around his waist and kissed the back of his left shoulder.

“You are amazing, Dabi, ” you mumbled against his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah whatever, don't get sappy y/n, ” he said.

You ran your hands up and down his stomach, taking a deep breath to smell his cologne.

“Stop distracting me y/n they're gonna burn, ” he grumbled.

“Fine, fine!” You said.

You let go of him to put on a pot of coffee only to see that he had made coffee just the way you like.

“Jeez, did you kill a puppy or something because if so, apology accepted, ” you said.

“No, I didn't kill a fucking puppy. I just wanted to do something nice for you, ” he said, “but if youre gonna make it a big deal everytime-”

“Nope, nevermind, I'll be quiet, ” you interrupted.

Dabi finished making breakfast, and you both sat down at the table. He was quite proud of himself, seeing you smile at him when you first came down, feeling you wrap your arms around him, kissing him. It made his chest feel warm and light. Don't get the wrong idea. He’d never do anything like this for anyone else, no matter what. Only you, he was only soft for you. He even washed the dishes saying that “it was more meaningful if I do them myself, ”

You sat in the living room, talking about anything and everything. It had taken the better part of three years, but Dabi was an open book. He had cried on your shoulder, you had watched him bleed. You had stapled him together, watched him go about all his villainous deeds, and never, ever judged him. You were the best thing to happen to him. y/n y/l/n, or preferably when finally proposed (if you know his last name, please put it into interactive fics) y/n d/l/n. (Dabis last name)

You got up and felt your feet get caught on the rug but before you could hit the floor, Dabi’s arms wrapped around you.

You laughed as you steadied yourself, “my hero, ”

He froze, “your hero?”

“Yeah, that's what I said, ” you responded.

“A hero, ” he spat, “are you fucking kidding?”

“No Dabi that's not what I-” you started.

“Shut the fuck up y/n, I'm not your fucking ‘hero,’” he sneered, “im the greatest fucking villain of all time. That man child is a joke, ”

(ouch 😐)

“No please Dabi just listen, ” you said.

“No, you listen, y/n. I can't be your fucking hero. I fucking kill people. That's my life youre just a delusional little girl who wants someone to save her. That's. Not. Me, ” he said.

“Please baby I just, ” you tried.

His fist hit the wall, and his other knocked over a vase as it shattered, “I told you to listen! I'm not here to save you. I could burn this whole fucking house to the ground with you in it if I wanted to. You shouldn't be around me y/n. I can't do anything right I'll just hurt you I can't keep you safe, ” he started to unravel.

“I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to hurt anyone; I just wanted to be a hero. I just wanted to help. But I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't,” he broke, “please, please, I didn't mean it I just I love you, and I can't lose you. I'm sorry ill get you a new vase; I'll cook your favorite food. We can get that dumb cat you saw in the store anything y/n. I wanted to be a hero y/n I wanted to go to that dumb school and help people, but I can't. It's all ruined, ruined ruined ruined, ” he started to sob, sliding down to the floor.

“I just want it to stop. Please make it stop y/n it hurts everything hurts, ” he ran his hands over the burns and picked at the staples.

“Baby no, don't pick at them, ” you said pulling his hands away.

Was he an asshole? Yeah, yeah, he was. But he always had to get angry before he got sad. He was never taught how to express it. That wasn't any excuse, but he was never violent, and he always always regretted it. So you sat next to him, letting him sob and sob into your chest.

“Please let me make it up to you, ” Dabi begged, leaving sloppy kisses up and down your neck, “please I'm so sorry, let me make it all better y/n let me make you feel good, baby, look just stay here let me make it special, ” he said running upstairs.

Ten minutes later, he picked you up, carrying you up the stairs. He set you down, and you looked around. The room smelled like roses and it was warm from the candles that illuminated the room.

“Dabi, ” you whispered, “this, this is perfect, ”

You turned to him as he pulled his shirt over his head, giving you access to his chest and stomach. You ran your hands up and down his chest rubbing over his nipple gently. He groaned.

“No baby, lemme take care of you, ” he said, “I've got wine and everything; let's make a night out of it yeah?”

You grinned, “mmm yeah, red?”

“You know I hate white wine y/n, ” he said, “I want to ask you while youre sober, are you okay with all of this?”

“Yes, ” you kissed him and mumbled against his lips, “I'm very sure, ”

He opened the bottle, “open up, baby girl, ”

You opened your mouth and he held your chin, pouring the wine into your mouth.

“There we go, ” he said, taking a couple of swigs.

You pulled him to the bed, smiling. You drank some more wine together, getting needier.

“Please please please, ” you begged, “please I need it,”

He kissed you, his tongue entering your mouth. It tangled with yours, exploring your mouth as his pants got tighter. Your hands gripped his hair. You pulled harshly, causing him to groan. He pulled you into his lap, moving your crotch over his clothed erection. He moaned into your mouth as he moved your hips. He wasn't the only one moaning as his hands traveled up your shirt.

He groped your tits through your bra, still frantically moving against you. He moved to your back, rubbing slow circles onto it. His fingers were rough and calloused but so gentle, letting his nails graze your back from time to time, making you shiver. They moved up your back until they reached your bra, trying to take it off.

He pulled away, “this stupid fucking thing, can you turn around?”

You turned, “you want to get my shirt while youre at it?”

“Oh I would love to take off your shirt, ” he smirked.

His hands and the soft fabric brushed your stomach as Dabi lifted your shirt. Next, your chest was set free as your bra fell on the bed. Immediately his hands were on you, pinching and rubbing your nipples, still grinding against you. Your moans mixed, nearly harmonizing, and you were only half-naked. He helped you out of your pants, rubbing your clit through your panties.

You moaned, ”n-not fair you don't even have your pants off, ”

He chuckled, “you want my pants off?”

You nodded, reaching for the zipper. He stopped your hand, moving to stand in front of you, pulling his pants down and stepping out of them. You grabbed his bulge through his boxers, causing him to hiss. You could feel it throbbing and decided to show mercy by getting rid of his underwear. It bobbed briefly touching his stomach. You couldn't help but stare, the head was an angry red with precum oozing out of it.

“Are you fucking drooling?” he laughed.

“N-no, ” you said, still staring.

He moved closer, the tip nudging your lips. You opened them enough to wrap around the head and suck gently. You let your tongue press against the tip, licking up and down slowly. He moaned shamelessly.

“No, no, lemme do it, baby f-fuck, ” he groaned as you pulled away.

He laid you down on your back. He got on top of you.

Pressing his forehead to yours, he whispered, “I love you, ” before easing the first part of himself into you.

“I love you too- f-fuck Dabi, oh my god, ” you moaned, throwing your head back.

He grabbed your chin to make you look him in the eyes as he bottomed out inside of you. Your nails dug into his sides as you moaned for him to ‘just please fucking move Dabi.’ and move he did, thrusting in and out of you slowly. He left your faces a centimeter apart, foreheads still pressed together. He let you feel all of him; his piercing dragged over your soft walls, right over that perfect spot. Your back arched and closed the nonexistent space between you.

He sped up, unable to control himself. Your nails raked over his back as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

“I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, ” he mumbled into your neck.

His thrust became sloppier as the pleasure built up inside of you. It filled you up until it burst, coaxing something close to a scream from you that Dabi muffled with his lips on yours. He left you panting and flushed. Begging him to slow down, but he was too busy chasing his own high as you chanted his name religiously. He cried out as his hips snapped against yours giving you so much pleasure it was nearly painful.

He began to make your favorite sounds. Whimpering and high-pitched whines escaped him. He was so sweet and needy when he was right on the edge, throwing his head back only to press it to yours again. He began to babble about how good it is, so wet, hot, tight, perfect for his cock. He came with a scream like moan as you felt hot liquid fill you. He was left panting and thrusting until he began to soften.

“Apology accepted, ” you whispered.

He chuckled, “thanks babe,”

You pulled him in for a kiss. After you pulled away, he pulled you to his chest. His arms were wrapped around you, covering everything the blanket couldn't, keeping you warm and protected. Dabi kissed your forehead and raked his fingers through your hair scratching your scalp with his nails. You hummed softly, running your fingers over his chest and stomach.

“Night y/n, I love you,”

You smiled and whispered, “i love you too Dabs, ”

[duskholland]

Say Goodnight | Harrison Osterfield

Summary ↠ you and Harrison broke up before he left to chase his dreams in Hollywood. With 5,000 miles between you, you’re both struggling to adjust to life without the other; exes to lovers; prompt: “why did you call me at 2 in the morning?”

Warnings ↠ angst with a happy ending, a breakup, one curse word?

Word Count ↠ 2.7k

A/N ↠ I miss Harrison. A lot. And I haven’t written enough for him, so...here ya go! This is definitely inspired by Ariana Grande’s song goodnight n go, which never fails to hit me in the feels (listen to the version from her live album... it’s magic).

This is also my fic for @t-holland2080​‘s writing challenge! Thanks so much for hosting such a fun challenge Sammy - I hope you enjoy this :)

(a repost because tumblr decided to block me out the tags lmao)

You didn’t think it was possible to cry this much.

Harrison’s standing in front of you, glistening tear tracks running down his rosy cheeks. His eyes shift over your face, guiltily running the lines and curves of your cheeks and your forehead, trying desperately to stay away from your eyes, because you both know that seeing the heartbreak reflected in his icy blue gaze will be too much. Your chest hurts and you’re shaking, but you know that everything he’s said is true. You know that breaking up is for the best.

But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

“I still love you,” Harrison tells you quietly. He rocks back on his feet, his teeth grazing his lower lip before he adds, “I’ll always love you, Y/N. The timing just…”

“The timing isn’t right,” you finish. With shaky hands, you reach up behind your neck and your fingers fiddle with the clasp of the necklace Harrison had draped around you, all those months ago. He makes a small sound of objection as the chain falls heavily into your hands and you hold it out in front of you. “Keep it,” you urge. You finally let yourself meet his eyes, and you try to stay strong as you grab his hand and push the chain into his palm. “So you don’t forget about me whilst you’re off being a movie star.”

Harrison reluctantly pockets the chain, his eyes lingering on the solid curve of the H. “I could never forget about you, Y/N.”

It’s not fair. It’s not fair that the only way Harrison can pursue his dreams is 5,000 miles away, across the Atlantic in America. It’s even more unfair that you can’t go with him because you’re enrolled in university in London. But worst of all, neither of you signed up for a long-distance relationship when you first began dating, and now you’ve had to come to the mutual, heartbreaking decision that breaking up is going to be easier than stringing out a virtual relationship together. It doesn’t matter that you love Harrison more than you’ve ever loved another person, nor that he holds you so closely to his heart that he’s certain you’ve somehow intertwined yourself with his soul: long-distance is too much, and you both think you’ll be too busy to maintain your relationship. Neither of you want to sit by and watch your relationship break down.

So breaking up is simpler, supposedly.

“You should go,” you find yourself saying, swallowing down the lump in your throat. Your hand rests on your front door knob, the cool brass feeling icy against your warm skin. You use your other hand to sweep beneath your cheeks, trying to stop the endless flow of tears from your eyes. “Don’t want you to miss your flight, Haz.”

He runs his hand through his hair, a grimace spread across his face.

“I- Are you sure this is the right choice?” He asks, echoing the words you’ve both been saying for days.

You shrug helplessly. “I don’t know,” you admit. “But I know that I can’t stand here waiting for you to walk away any longer.” You release a deep breath. “Just go, Harrison. Please.”

And he looks like he really wants to stay. His feet twitch, as if he’s about to push his way back into your flat and throw himself down on the sofa like he’s done a thousand times before. But his eyes pass over your tearful, heart stricken face, and he finally sighs, slipping his hands into his back pockets as he manages a weak smile.

“Goodbye, Y/N,” he says softly, his lips curving around the words with ease. The way he says your name so fondly causes the pain in your chest to crack and expand.

“Bye, Harrison.”

And then he turns, slowly, and you watch as he drags his feet down the corridor. Harrison pauses when he reaches the staircase, one hand on the door as he casts his eyes back towards you. Your mouth twitches into a smile instinctively: the sight of his face, his loose blond curls, and his friendly smile never fails to make you feel warmer - even now, as he walks out of your life, taking a piece of your heart with him.

You raise your hand in a final wave, and then Harrison steels himself and walks through the door at the end of the corridor, leaving you standing alone in your doorway, a lump in your throat and a weight hanging so heavily in your heart that you know you won’t be forgetting him any time soon.

[-----]

Life without Harrison is hard.

Before you’d started dating him a year ago, you hadn’t believed love could feel so fulfilling or right. But then you’d stumbled into him at Tom’s birthday party and you’d immediately hit it off, and everything had changed. You think it would be hard not to instantly fall in love with Harrison: he’s charming, witty, and he carries such a bright light in his eyes that he had you hook, line, and sinker within the first ten minutes of your conversation.

As you try to move on, you find Harrison haunting your every move. You open Instagram and you see his posts and stories staring you right in the face, broadcasting his life out in LA with his new friends and castmates, and it stings. When you strike out and find yourself in the pub with Sam, all you can think about is how you used to frequent the place with him, and your eyes find the corner booth you’d used to sit in, your figure usually curled up in Harrison’s lap. You can almost feel the presence of his slender, delicate fingers wrapped around your waist as you gaze longingly at the booth.

And the most frustrating part of it all? Harrison seems fine. He seems completely unbothered, which just serves to twist the knife further into your chest every time your thumb hovers over his contact photo, or you start writing out a lengthy, emotional text. You’ve heard nothing from him, and it makes you question everything you’d thought you’d had together.

Everything changes one Wednesday night, around six weeks after Harrison had left.

You’re woken up by the loud, shrill ringing of your phone. You try to ignore it at first, groaning as you roll over on your side and try to press your head into your pillows, but it just keeps going, and it seems to rattle louder against your skull the longer it prattles on. So, after releasing a stream of your best expletives, you roll over and snatch it off your bedside table, accepting the call before you’ve even had time to check the caller ID.

“Hello?” You croak, clearing your throat immediately as you hear the fatigue hanging heavy in your throat.

“Y/N.”

Suddenly you’re wide awake.

“Harrison?!” You exclaim, sitting bolt upright. You bring your knees to your chest as you pull the duvet around you, trying to hide beneath the warm sheets as if they’ll protect you from the way that hearing his voice unleashes an onslaught of painful emotions. “What’s going on?”

Harrison doesn’t reply for a few moments, but merely the sound of his level, familiar breathing is enough to bring tears to your eyes. You try to push them away as your heart races in your chest, so many emotions flying through your heart that it feels consuming.

“Uh, nothing,” he eventually says softly. “Sorry. It doesn’t matter.”

“Then why did you call me at 2 in the morning?”

The sound of his chuckle is forced, but it’s so lovely to hear him again that you can’t stop yourself from smiling. “Oh, I didn’t realise it was so late,” he says, “‘m sorry, love.”

“It’s okay. I missed your voice.” It slips out before you can really stop it.

“I missed your voice too,” Harrison admits, voice thick. “I miss you so much, Y/N.”

You swallow deeply, running your fingers over the crinkles of your duvet as you think. Your mind runs slowly, clouded with your fatigue and your emotions, and you really don’t know how to take this all, but you know that hearing his voice makes you happy - more happy than you’ve felt in weeks.

“I miss you too,” you mumble down the line. Your fingers ache from how tightly you’re gripping the phone. “How’s LA?”

Harrison chuckles, and you hear a noise in the background as if he’s climbing into a bed. You can almost imagine him: his lanky legs spreading out over the sheets, a low groan slipping past his lips as he stretches out his arms and back. That lazy pink smirk hanging freely from his perfect lips. The image burns into your eyelids.

“LA is mad,” he tells you honestly. “It’s a whole different world over here, Y/N. It’s… It’s exciting, but it’s so different to London. I wish it would all slow down.”

“You’re really busy then?”

He hums lightly. “Yeah. I’m either on-set or doing fittings or rehearsals.”

“Are you having fun?”

Harrison takes a while to ponder your question.

“Yes,” he says, bringing a swell of tears to the front of your eyes. “But I’d be so much happier if you were here too.”

You try to disguise your sniffles, but you’re almost certain he can hear them. “Well… I’m not,” you manage. “I’m glad it’s giving you everything you wanted.”

There’s a very awkward, very thick silence that envelops the line, and it makes you shift uncomfortably in your sheets.

“I should let you sleep,” Harrison says, guilt lacing his words. “I’m sorry for waking you up. I shouldn’t have called you.”

“Oh, okay.” Your free hand clenches into a hard fist as you try to stop your lower lip from wobbling. “Don’t worry about it, Haz. I’m always here if you want someone to talk to.” A small smile flicks out across your lips. “Doesn’t matter what time it is.” I love you - those three unspoken words hang between you. You can feel them, surrounding you, smothering you, and you can almost hear them on the tip of Harrison’s tongue, so you jump in to add, “Goodnight, Harrison,” because you really can’t bear to hear them.

You can feel his reluctance, but you release a deep breath as he says, begrudgingly, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

You hang up quickly, your fingers trembling as you toss the phone down the bed. The blank screen stares at you, taunting you, and you’re overcome with such a strong sense of regret that you almost reach out and call him back. Your body craves him - his soft, melodic voice, his gentle words, his love.

Your phone starts ringing, and you snatch it back up, eyes taking in the image of Harrison’s contact photo as he flashes over the screen. You accept it without a second thought.

“I don’t want to say goodnight yet,” Harrison says immediately, words falling into one another. “I don’t want to stop talking to you, Y/N. Can we please keep talking? Just for a bit.” He pauses, his voice breaking. “I miss you.”

The relieved smile on your face shows no sign of budging. “I don’t wanna say goodnight either, Haz.”

[-----]

It’s a bad habit, but for the entire time Harrison is away, you end up on the phone with him each evening. The first few times had been fairly spontaneous, but soon it becomes a habit: every day, as Harrison finishes filming, he gives you a call and you have a long, rambling conversation. It breaks up your sleep, but you grow so used to it that you start setting an alarm at 1.50am just so you can grab a cup of tea and wake yourself up before he calls.

It’s definitely inadvisable to stay so connected to your ex-boyfriend, but it feels too good to quit. Harrison is your drug, and every time you hang up the phone, you’re left feeling sad and hollow inside. But it eases the pain of having him so far away, and maybe a part of you deludes yourself by reasoning that your calls are helping you get over him: cutting him out completely was too hard, but maybe sharing these phone calls will help you. Eventually he’ll stop calling, and you’ll be able to heal, because you’ll have practised saying goodbye so many times it’ll feel normal.

But Harrison doesn’t stop calling, and you don’t stop answering, and soon enough, he’s been away for six months, and he’s preparing to move back to London, his film complete.

You don’t really know where you stand with him, if you’re being completely honest. He’s still your ex - but you’re still helplessly in love with him, and you’re fairly sure that most exes don’t spend hours on the phone each day, chatting and laughing like you’re still together. You try to bring it up with him, but every time you start the conversation, your heart clenches in your chest and you wimp out.

You ignore the difficult conversation for as long as you can - which lasts until you hear a loud knock on your front door, and you know that it’s him.

It feels almost like a gravitational pull, drawing you back to his figure. You’ve spent all day pacing your flat, fussing over your hair and your outfit, but for the entire time you’ve spent waiting on his flight arriving, you haven’t been sure if you’d be able to open the door and face him. But now you know that he’s here, your heart seems to act of your own accord.

You wrench your door open, and immediately you’re pulled into a tight, crushing hug. It knocks the air out of your lungs and you wheeze as you feel that familiar set of curls brushing up against your neck, and you feel a few tears slip from your eyes as you take it all in. He’s back.

“Haz,” you exclaim, your voice choked with tears. His hands move over your back, clinging to you, drawing you as close as possible as his rich, earthy cologne invades your system. It doesn’t even matter that his jacket has a collection of chilly raindrops clinging to the leather, because it feels so fucking perfect to have him so near you again that you can’t focus on anything other than him.

“I missed you,” he whimpers, as he pulls away from your neck. His large hands fall on your shoulders as he stares at you intently, his focused eyes whipping the air from your lungs. He looks so cute that you can’t really stop yourself from shifting closer and pressing your lips to his. Immediately you relax, and he does too, and he kisses you back softly. Your mouths are tender at first, pressing together softly - testingly - but as you wrap your hands around his waist and bring him closer, it deepens. Your mind spins with dizzy, overwhelming happiness as you revel in the feeling of Harrison, enjoying him utterly, your heart thrumming happily against your ribs.

“I missed you so much,” you mumble against his lips, kissing him between each word. Your fingers drift into his hair, and you smile as he hums in agreement.

“We are so stupid,” he says, drawing a laugh from your lips. “Can’t believe we ever thought breaking up was for the best.” His mouth shifts up to press a lingering kiss to your forehead. “I love you so much, Y/N. Please, can we get back together?” His words are desperate, but they echo the things you’ve been feeling for months, and hearing them is such a relief that you simply have to kiss him again.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you whisper, moving to rest your forehead on his shoulder. Harrison brings you into a warm hug, and you let him hold you as you breathe him in. “I missed you. I love you.” You tilt your head back, meeting his eyes gleefully. “I’m so glad that you’re back.”

Harrison reaches down and pulls a familiar, glinting chain from his pocket. Your gaze softens as you pull away from him and tilt your head, letting him wrap the necklace back around your neck. The H pendant settles gently over your chest, and it feels like coming home.

“Perfect,” he comments, and you’re not sure if he’s talking about you or the necklace, but you’re willing to accept either.

With a warm smile on your face, you move aside and welcome him inside. “D’you want a cup of tea?” You offer.

Harrison steps across the threshold and presses a final, loving kiss to your lips. “There’s nothing I’d like more.”

----

m-list

send me some feedback?

[livesincerely]

[Bits & Bobs] we’ll be on the road like some country song

AKA the Run Away With Me Fic

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Davey nearly loses his nerve about a hundred times in between dialing the number and Jack answering. The phone seems to ring forever⁠—for a moment he thinks that Jack’s not going to pick up and that will be that⁠—but somehow, incredibly, the call connects.

“‘Ello?” Jack rumbles, his voice thick with sleep.

Davey opens his mouth but no sound comes out, his words smothered down by a sudden wave of bitter, scalding doubt. What is he doing?

“Davey? Are you there?”

He needs to hang up. He needs to hang up, needs to stop bothering Jack and let him sleep, needs to pull himself together and just get it over with because there’s no point in putting it off, no point in pretending like there’s anything to be done except accept the fact that… The fact that he… 

He’s holding his cellphone so tightly that the plastic creaks under his fingers, his lungs straining in his chest and his stomach churning and churning. He tries to calm himself, breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth, just like you’re supposed to, but it feels like no matter how hard he tries he can’t get enough air.  

“Guess not,” Jack murmurs to himself, voice trailing away.

Panic seizes Davey like a hand around his throat.

“Jack,” he gasps out. “Jackie, wait.”

“Dave?” Jack asks. “Hey, what’s⁠—”

“Jackie,” Davey says again, because he can’t figure out how to say anything else. “I—“

“What’s wrong?” Jack says, his tone spiking with alarm. “Are you okay?”

Davey presses a hand to his mouth, hot, shuddering breaths stifled by his palm. His vision clouds over, his bedroom fading into a shapeless, colorless blur, and it’s only then that Davey realizes that he’s crying⁠, tears streaming down his face. 

“David,” Jack says. “Are you okay?”

Davey’s shoulders shake. He tries to explain⁠—instead, he sobs.

“I’m coming over,” Jack says, and there’s a flurry of movement on his side of the line: the rustle of bedsheets thrown back, the clattering of car keys, soft, hurried footsteps. 

“You don’t have to,” Davey chokes out, because he didn’t call intending to drag Jack out of bed in the middle of the night. He just didn’t know what else to do. “Nothing’s wrong, Jackie, I’m not hurt or anything⁠—”

“Bullshit, you ain’t hurt,” Jack says sharply. “You’re crying.”

“But you don’t have to⁠—”

“I’m coming over,” Jack says, in that voice that says he’s made up his mind and there’s no talking him out of it. “Give me ten minutes, okay? I’ll be right there.”

Davey sniffs, feeling at once horribly pathetic and unspeakably relieved. “Okay,” he says quietly. “Okay.”

“Do you want me to stay on the line?” Jack asks.

Yes, Davey thinks, because the last thing he wants is to be alone with his thoughts. Instead, he says, “You shouldn’t be on the phone while you’re driving. You can hang up.”

Jack hesitates. “Ten minutes,” he says eventually. “I’m already in the car.”

“Okay,” Davey whispers. “Ten minutes.”

Even though he’s expecting him, Davey still jumps when Jack finally knocks on his bedroom window. 

He half crawls, half staggers over. His hands are trembling so badly he almost can’t get the latches unlocked, but he eventually manages to get the window open. 

“Are you okay?” Jack demands as he clambers inside. He’s dressed like he literally rolled out of bed and drove straight here⁠—he’s thrown a thin jacket on over his shirtless torso, the bottoms of his sweatpants wet with dew and littered with grass clippings, his feet shoved hastily into a pair of his mother’s slippers instead of his shoes. “What’s wrong, what happened?”

Davey can’t help but wilt in the face of such genuine concern, guilt and shame spreading like twin frosts across the plains of his heart.

“Jack,” he starts, curling in on himself. “Jackie, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have called you, it’s nothing, really, nothing I can’t handle myself, I’m sorry I woke you up, I⁠—”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Jack says, stepping forward and taking him gently by the shoulders. Davey’s frantic ramblings peter out. “Breathe for me, alright, Dave? I need you to breathe for me.”

“Sorry,” Davey says again, struggling to do as he’s asked. “It’s nothing, it’s stupid, honestly, I don’t know why I’m being so⁠—”

“Davey,” Jack interrupts, eyes serious. “Nothing that’s got you this upset is stupid. Now, tell me what’s wrong.”

It shouldn’t feel like as huge of a question as it does. Davey doesn’t even know where to start, and the thought of having to try to explain makes something acrid and agonizing rise up like bile in the back of his throat. 

“The letters came,” he forces out. 

Jack’s mouth goes tight. “All of ‘em?”

Davey gives a weak nod. “I’ve been stealing them out of the mailbox. I didn’t want my parents to see…”

“Where are they?”

“In my nightstand,” Davey answers. 

With one last reassuring squeeze, Jack goes to look. He pulls open the drawer and unearths a stack of creamy envelopes, each one thicker and heavier than the last: Columbia, Dartmouth, Yale, NYU, UCLA, UC Berkeley... Just the sight of them sends another wave of anxiety rushing through him; Davey hugs himself against a sudden chill, his nails biting into his arms.

Jack flips one of the envelopes over, dragging a finger over the shiny, golden seal. 

“You haven’t opened them,” he says, more of a comment than a question.

“I couldn’t,” Davey confesses. “I tried but I couldn’t make myself… I just couldn’t.”

He doesn’t know how to explain, the feelings refusing to condense down into words. Because they’re just letters, except that they’re not just letters, not really. They’re only the start. 

The start of another four years of this: of working himself into the ground and being miserable, of studying and struggling and grinding and endlessly competing against this idealized, perfected, unattainable version of himself. A version of himself that his parents want him to be, a person that they insist he must become, never once considering if that’s who he wants to be. 

He can’t even imagine spending the next chapter of his life like this. He can’t do it. He can’t.

But even as Davey thinks it, that familiar sensation starts creeping in again⁠—bitter doubt, overwhelming worry, desperate, aching fear⁠—screaming at him from every corner of his mind. Of course he’s going to college. Of course he is, he has to, there’s nothing to be done, no choice but to make his peace and learn to live with...

Another wave of nausea hits so hard and so abruptly he goes dizzy with it, just barely able to keep from retching⁠—not that there’s anything left in his stomach to throw up. 

“Woah, hey,” Jack says softly. He wraps a hand around Davey’s forearm to steady him, guiding him over to sit down on the bed. “Breathe, Davey, breathe⁠. I gotcha.”

“Sorry,” Davey mutters.

“You don’t gotta be sorry,” Jack replies, his face full of understanding. “You just gotta tell me the best way to help you. Do you need me to open the letters for you?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” Davey shakes his head, like that might shuffle his scattered thoughts into coherence. “I don’t want anyone to open them. I wish they didn’t fucking exist at all.”

Davey takes a deep breath, straining for calm. Jack watches him silently, rubbing his hand comfortingly along his arm.

“I should’ve listened to you,” Davey admits. “I should’ve put a stop to this months ago. But I didn’t know what to tell them and I didn’t want them to be disappointed in me and now it’s too late, all these fucking letters keep showing up because they made me apply to every goddamn Ivy League in the country, and I don’t know what to do. Jackie, I don’t know what to do.”

“Davey,” Jack says quietly. “What do you need from me?”

“Help me figure this out?” Davey pleads. “I know it’s a lot, but every day my parents ask if I’ve heard back from any schools and I’ve got to come up with a plan before they catch on and I don’t think I can do it by myself.”

He gestures at the pile of letters sitting in Jack’s lap, and as he does, he realizes that his hand is trembling. He lowers it back down before Jack can notice.

“Maybe you can help me sort through these?” Davey suggests. “I just need advice, an outside perspective, an opinion from someone I trust. Someone that will help me pick something I can live with, not just whatever’s most prestigious.”

“But you don’t want to go to any of these schools,” Jack says slowly. “You ain’t even interested in any of ‘em.”

Davey can’t meet his eyes. 

“At least one of them must be decent,” he says, in a tone that’s not at all convincing. “It’s just a matter of figuring out which one.”

“And what if none of them are?” Jack says. “What if none of ‘em are decent? What if none of ‘em are right for you?”

“One of them will be,” Davey insists.

“But what if they’re not?” Jack says, still pressing. “What if all of ‘em are horrible? What if we start looking at ‘em and every one is guaranteed to be four years of misery?”

“Then I guess I’m just going to be fucking miserable, aren’t I?” Davey bursts out. 

He immediately clamps his hand over his mouth, praying that no one else heard. But the house remains sleepy and silent. 

Jack stares back at him, a sea of feeling behind his eyes.

“I can’t think like that, Jackie,” Davey continues after a second, fighting to keep his voice down despite the edge of hysteria that’s creeping into his tone. “I have to hope that one of these schools will be a good enough fit or else I’m actually going to lose my mind. So I need you to help me figure this out. I need your advice because⁠, if nothing else, at least you’re actually on my side. I’m so tangled up at this point that I can’t even tell if⁠—” ⁠

If I’m on my own side anymore, Davey doesn’t say, cutting himself off before he can finish the thought. But Jack looks at him like he knows exactly what Davey was about to say, his expression turning sad and maybe a little angry.

“And you really think that’s what’s best?” Jack asks, voice rough with disbelief and displeasure.

“What else is there to do?” Davey replies, helpless.

Jack’s mouth flattens out into a harsh, thin line, jaw clenched. He stares down at the letter from earlier, then at the rest of the stack, his hands curling into fists against his thighs. He picks one up and at first Davey can’t tell if he’s going to finally open it, or if he’s just going to rip it in half.

Instead, he says, “We could run.”

“...What?” Davey whispers.

Jack turns to him, and the look in his eyes is like nothing Davey’s ever seem before: almost fever bright, threaded with urgency and realization, and speckled with warmth and hints of promise.

“Run away with me, Dave,” Jack says. “Let me take you away from all’a this. We’ll hit the road, drive ‘til the pavement ends, ‘til we’re far away from all these expectations and plans and supposed to’s. Because it’s crushing you. It’s making you fucking miserable, and if distance is what you need to find steady ground and make a choice for your own sake, that’s actually about you and what you want? Then I’m your ticket outta town.”

“Jackie...” Davey says, utterly floored. His heart is beating wildly in his chest, stuttering with something like anticipation and fear and terrible, terrible longing. “Jackie, that’s not… We can’t.”

“And why can’t we?”

“Because,” Davey insists, because one of them has to be reasonable. “Because, we can’t just pack up and leave. It’s the middle of the semester, we’ve got another three months of school left, we’re supposed to graduate, and fuck, can you even imagine the fallout? My parents would kill me, just hunt me down and murder me if I left.”

“I’m still not hearin’ any reasons not to,” Jack says, still looking at Davey with those warm, steady eyes.

“I just told you—“ Davey starts.

“No,” Jack calmly interrupts. “You gave me a bunch of excuses for not going, not reasons. There’s a difference. I’m waitin’ for something more along the lines of ‘my ridiculously long legs make road trips super uncomfortable’ or ‘our friendship won’t survive us traveling together for weeks in close quarters’ or ‘I wouldn’t trust your rusted old Chevy to take us to the state line, let alone any further,’ or how about ‘Jack, I don’t want to.’”

Davey’s mouth closes with a soft click, swallowing heavily around a sudden lump in his throat.

Jack keeps looking at him, and the intensity of his gaze is almost too much to handle, simmering with something quietly fierce. 

“I’m not gonna stand by and watch you kill yourself over a life that you don’t even want. Not anymore. Not when it makes you call me at one in the morning, sounding like the weight of the fucking world’s on your shoulders and you’re terrified to set it down. Not after seven months of watching you waste away right in front of me, moving around like a goddamn shadow, pale as a ghost and hollow inside. Not unless you can look me in the eye right now and tell me that college is what you want. That any of this is gonna make you happy.”

Davey can’t speak. Something’s gone taut in his chest, like a piano wire about to snap. Davey could prevent it. He doesn’t know if he wants to.

Jack leans closer and takes both of Davey’s hands in his own. His palms are warm, or maybe it’s just that Davey’s freezing, has been so painfully cold and lonely these past few months, withering away in the shadow of his parent’s expectations. But the tangle of their fingers threading together is like a balm on Davey’s soul—the spark that reignites the embers of a dying fire.

He’s so tired of being cold.

“I just wanna know that you’ll be happy,” Jack says after a moment—softly, like he’s afraid he might shatter Davey if he speaks any louder, sending the broken shards of him scattering into nothingness. Davey’s not sure he’s wrong. “And I know you, David, and this isn’t going to make you happy.”

“This is crazy,” Davey breathes out, and it’s not what he means to say but it’s what comes out, regardless. “It’s... Jack, this is insanity.”

“Who cares about what’s sane?” Jack says. “Fuck sanity.”

“Jackie.”

“Tell me you’re happy,” Jack says, and the gentleness of the command doesn’t make it any less compelling. “Tell me you’re happy, that you think you’ll be happy with all’a this, and I’ll drop it. I’ll drop it right this second, I swear.”

Davey’s eyes slip shut. He breathes in and breathes out, feeling his ribs pressing against that band in his chest, the last pieces of it holding fast.

“You know this isn’t what you want,” Jack continues. “You’ve known right from the start that this isn’t what you want, you just wouldn’t admit it. But you gotta finally put yourself first for once, Davey. You gotta figure out what’s best for you, and you can’t do that here, not with everything that’s weighing you down.”

In and out. In and out.

“Please, Dave,” Jack murmurs. “Please.”

And the wire snaps.

“Okay,” Davey says, fingers tightening around Jack’s, his lone anchor as the world tilts out from underneath him. “Okay.”

“You’ll—?”

“Let me pack a bag,” Davey agrees.

00000

Tags! @yahfancyclamwiththepurlinside, @corbinthecowboy

[anjuschiffer]

Following the Unknown

Okay, so sometime ago, I wrote something up about another soulmate au that was inspired from a dream I had (and for some reason I can’t find it in my archives...f* you Tumblr! And if anyone remembers what I’m talking about, think you can send me a link? Cuz I can’t find it QQ).

So the AU concept went something like this:

Some people know they have soulmates because they can hear their soulmate’s voice. If you’re lucky enough, you can actually see them, or rather their silhouette in the form of a swarm of leaves, that trail away once your soulmate stops talking to you. These leaves fly off and sometimes if you chase them, lead you to your soulmate. However, if they go on, that means that your soulmate isn’t close. Some people have feathers as guides, however, those who have seen these feathers and followed them are guaranteed to see their soulmates...but only at the brink of death. People dread to have feathers guide them to their soulmate, despite their gold color. 

The only con of this soulmate bond is that only those with the bond can see the glowing white leaves, no one else can see the leaves but those with that type of bond. 

And I haven’t touched the au until I was listening to Into the Unknown...

With that explanation out of the way, I hope you enjoy it!

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Song: Into the Unknown by Idina Menzel | Daminette Soulmate Au

Context: Damian is 17 years old, never once telling anyone he had a soulmate bond. Mari is 16, her soulmate bond appearing that very year, something she always wanted, but hated that it was at the worst time to receive a bond. After all, defeating Hawkmoth was her top priority.

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Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak​ @damianette-is-life​

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AO3

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Damian stirred in his bed, a whisper ringing in his ears. Attempting to block them out, Damian wrapped his pillow over his head, his knuckles turning white as he did so.

Damian threw the pillow to the side, wincing at the voice that echoed within his head. Struggling to get up, Damian quickly drew out his sketchbook, flipping to the back of it. There, a meticulously set of dates were written and organized, a tip of a quill meeting the page, Damian writing down a new date.

Ever since his 16th birthday, he had been having these effects, a voice whispered to him. 

It was soft, soothing, but annoying all at the same time. 

Hello. It would whisper. Can you hear me?

I can hear you but I won't.

Of course he was able to. It bothered him to the ends of the Earth, causing him to become distracted at school and during patrols.

He regretted ever answering back to them after they kept trying to contact them for four solid months.

With that single response, he had been able to hear the voice clearer, causing the noise to grow stronger, something that Damian hated. 

Because of it, his grades slowly slipped, but Damian had managed to keep them up. Patrol, however, was another story. 

He kept getting a scolding from his father and brother, causing his mood to sour even more. 

He already had a pretty shitty sleep schedule and the noise just made it worse. 

He would awaken at random times during the middle of the night, ranging from one in the morning to four. He rarely got them at five and six, but nonetheless had them then as well. 

Ignore your whispers which I wish would go away

Damian got back to bed, hoping to fall back to sleep as he heard the noise stay with him. Damian didn’t know when he had fallen asleep, but he did, nonetheless when the noise had whispered to him. 

Sorry.

And the voice remained quiet for the remainder of the night.

------

“-and only one in every three million have this type of soulmate bond.” Damian paused the video, writing something down in his notepad, circling the new piece of information.

The Wind Bond.

A bond that those who had it describe it to be like a wind itself.

It caused you to hear the voice of your soulmate, ever so softly heard like a midsummer breeze. 

The soulmate’s voice would only grow stronger if they were close by.

Those who had a romantic version of the bond would also see their soulmate’s silhouette in the form of leaves, scattering into the air if you managed to see it. 

However, only the people with the bond were able to see and hear their soulmate.

It was also because of this that people called it the Wind Bond; many only faintly heard the voice of their soulmate and almost never got to ingrain the silhouette of their soulmate, causing them to lose all hope in ever seeing their soulmate.

It was hard to catch, hard to believe, just like the wind.

As Damian tapped in pencil against the table, the noise returned, Damian dropping his pencil to cradle his head.

You're not a voice, you're just a ringing in my ear.

With shaky hands, Damian reached for the headphones laying on his desk.

Damian paired them to his phone and put music to drown the noise, his shoulders relaxing when he could no longer hear it.

I'm sorry, secret siren, but I'm blocking out your calls.

Damian looked at what he had written, huffing at the paper. 

Why would he ever believe in this?

Soulmates?

Damian ripped the paper and tossed them into his metal trash can. Seeing that all of the pieces were inside, Damian opened his desk drawer, rummaging through it until his hand found a small rectangular-like item. 

Flicking the lighter, Damian took the final piece of his ‘research’ and lit it on fire, tossing it in with the rest, watching as smoke rose from the can.

Soulmates…

Why would he ever think he had one?

Even if he did have one, he shouldn’t care.

They were unnecessary, a hindrance to him…

At least his mother and grandfather told him. 

As he watched the last ember die, Damian went back to studying, the ringing fading from his mind.

------

Damian’s eyes widened as his eyes caught the thing behind him. 

He had just gotten past the manor’s gates when he heard someone call out to him.

Turning, Damian found a girl made of softly glowing bluebell leaves.

He watched as they soon scattered into the air, Damian taking a step forward before going into a sprint.

He had the Wind Bond. And the romantic type at that.

Romance…

Love…

Chasing…

Damian quickly came to a stop, watching as the leaves finally left his view.

I'm afraid of what I'm risking if I follow you

Damian didn’t know for how long he was standing at where he was, but when he was done accepting what had happened to him, he let out a long deep sigh.

A soulmate, huh?

He would just have to try his best to ignore it.

------

Damian dug his nails into his hands, the noise coming back inside his head, and at the worst possible time.

What do you want? 

He was busy trying to concentrate on the math problem in front of him, the clock ticking as his professor reminded the class of the time constraint.

“There’s ten minutes left!”

Are you here to distract me so I make a big mistake?

No

Damian wanted to scoff at the answer, racking everything he learned to solve the integration before him. It was the only thing left, but for some reason he just couldn’t seem to figure it out.

Just breath.

He did.

Recheck your fourth to last step. That’s where-

“Five minutes!”

Damian quickly rescanned his work for the twentieth time, finally noticing where he had gone wrong. Reworking that step, Damian began to internally grin as he confidently finished the rest, smiling when he placed his pencil down and the professor called time.

Damian hated to admit it, but was glad to be able to hear her voice clearly this time around.

The bell rang, signaling the start of the next class, Damian quickly walking out to get to it.

Thank you. 

------

“-I simply did what I had to do!” Damian yelled, a snarl present on his face.

“You endangered the civilians inside the building!” Dick yelled, throwing a glare at Bruce. “And you allowed him to-”

“It was necessary for the mission.” Bruce simply stated, walking out the cave, leaving Dick with his feelings.

“I thought you had changed B!” Dick yelled, grabbing his coat. “Seems like you haven’t.”

Damian watched as Dick left, wanting to call him back, but knew that he shouldn’t. Instead, he went off to his own room, heading straight to the shower to get rid of the sweat that made his shirt cling to his body as if it were a second skin.

As he stood under the steaming hot water, Damian pondered to himself.

While he always held his father in high regards, Damian struggled to follow his standards, finding himself to lean more towards Dick’s. Who was right? Who did he have to follow? To please? Who’s standard should he even begin to follow?

Neither.

But he had to.

But don’t you already have your own set?

He did.

Then follow it.

Damian pursed his lips, turning off the water.

Why should he follow his own instead of one laid out before him?

Because if you try to meet the standards someone placed for you, you’re going to burn out quicker. You will start to lose yourself. Believe me. I’ve been there and hated it. Every. Second. 

Damian kept wondering about the words the voice told him, catching the resentment behind them. 

Despite having lived under the same roof as his father and older brother for seven years, Damian could still measure the tension between themselves. The air was suffocating, made his breathing heavy and felt off.

Or are you someone out there who's a little bit like me?

They did mention having to choose a decision and regretting it.

They had been through it…

Was it when he told them to take the ring from the other person she was fighting with?

If so, were they once like him? Did they once have these unwanted thoughts? Thoughts of fleeing?

Who knows deep down I'm not where I'm meant to be?

Damian shook his head, throwing himself onto his bed, Titus laying beside him. 

As he laid in bed, Damian closed his eyes, replaying the day he stopped chasing the bluebell leaves.

Damian found himself reaching towards the ceiling, grabbing one of the leaves. He watched as the bluebell turned red before it slipped out of his hand.

Damian quickly chased after it, stopping as he reached the edge of the manor’s garden, watching as the red leaf turned bluebell once more and disappeared into the distance.

His hand reached out in an attempt to grab it again, despite knowing it was futile. 

Don't you know there's part of me that longs to go 

Into the unknown

------

Are you out there?

“-you alright Bugaboo?” Ladybug blinked as she registered what Chat had said, finally facing him after scanning their surroundings. “Is there something-”

“You didn’t hear that?” 

“Hear what?” Chat asked, tilting his head, his ear twitching in anticipation.

Marinette looked to her side once again, wondering what the hell was happening to her.

Migraine? No, definitely not. 

“Do you really-” Ladybug was about to ask, only to get interrupted by Chat.

“Seems like you can do it with a day off.” Chat said with a grin, twirling his baton. “You know, maybe a date at-”

Marinette zoned out Chat’s voice, wondering what was going on. She swore she had heard someone call out to her, a smooth voice that sent chills down her spine. But despite that, she felt curiosity behind that whisper.

“-and who knows? We might find out that we’re actually-”

“Soulmate.”

“You mean soulmates.” Chat tried to correct, watching as Ladybug’s face pale. “Bugaboo. What-”

“My soulmate bond.” She whispered, feeling a lump in her throat. “I got my soulmate b-”

“Does that mean-!”

“No.” Ladybug said, sternly looking at Chat. “We’re not soulmates.”

“How are yo-”

“When I asked if you heard that, you said no.” 

“And what does that-”

“My soulmate bond has to do with hearing each other’s voices. Our thoughts.” Ladybug watched as Chat’s smile dropped, his eyes turning dull. “You’re not my- Chaton!” Marinette yelled out as Chat ran away from her, using his baton to launch himself to who knows where.

Sighing, Marinette called off her transformation, Tikki flying up to Marinette’s cheek. “Why now? Why now of all times?”

“I wish I had the answer to that Marinette, but even we have no knowledge on how soulmate bonds are assigned and given. If we did-”

“I always wanted a soulmate bond.” Marinette confessed, Tikki giving her a small smile. “But to think I would get one right now, with Hawkmoth-”

“It’s going to be alright Marinette.” Tikki assured, snuggling closer. “It’s going to be alright, you’ll see.”

“I hope you’re right Tikki. I really hope you are right.” Marinette said, embracing Tikki in her own way.

------

Do you know me?

Or rather do you remember me?

Marinette had not heard back from her soulmate in a solid month, wondering what was going on. 

Was it just a fluke?

“I don’t think so.” Tikki said, munching on a cookie. “While we may not know everything about soulmate bonding, we do know some basic principles. Using those, I’m pretty sure you have a soulmate bond. It’s just taking a while to settle into your life. Well, lives.”

Marinette sighed, placing her head on her desk, attempting to reconnect with her soulmate for the umpteenth time.

Months continued to pass, Marinette now dealing with a tantrum-throwing Chat and an unresponsive soulmate.

Yes, the soulmate bonding was supposed to be the least of her worries, but how can Marinette ignore the fact that she hadn’t heard from them in three months?

In attempts to push it to the back of her mind, Marinette focused on retrieving the cat miraculous from Chat. 

Another month passed when a miracle occured. 

Marinette was sick and tired of playing cat and mouse with Chat, promising herself to try this one last time before she officially gave up on taking back the cat miraculous. 

They were once more fighting an appearance changing akuma, the akuma changing the appearance of any person they touched, Marinette doing everything in her power to avoid being touched. What should she do? She didn’t want to be a useless fish nor-

Take it when he gets hit by his opponent. 

Marinette stiffed at those words, feeling as if he knew then from experience himself. 

Marinette didn’t get a response, but stuck with their advice, watching for her opportunity to rise. 

An hour later, there it was. 

As she flung him out of harm’s way, she slipped the ring off of him, her eyes closed as she renounced his ownership of the ring and of Plagg. 

A single tear slipped as he heard him scream at her. As he begged her to reconsider. 

Ladybug simply ignored the growing guilt in her chest, but knew it was for the best. 

With a final tug at her yo-yo, Ladybug took down the akuma and prepared herself to be the hero Paris truly needed. 

Back at home, Marinette hugged her pillow, crying her heart out as she started to doubt her decision from earlier that day.

Sorry.

———

A month had passed since that day, Marinette slumping into her bed as she de transformed. Plagg and Tikki quickly checked on their Guardian before going off to replenish their own energy. 

With a heavy sigh, Marinette threw her arm over her forehead, feeling the tension in it. 

Hawkmoth was still out there, searching for her, using all her allies against her. All but two. 

Rena Rouge has the first out. 

Then Carapace. 

Lady Guêpe was forced to resign. 

Then Chat Noir. 

Ryuuko and Viperion remained, but at what cost?

But she couldn’t keep burdening them with her duties, with her life. 

The trio were the only ones to protect Paris, although it was majorly Lady Chat in the scene.

Announcing to Paris that Chat was no longer going to aid with the defeat of Hawkmoth ended up turning for the worst, half of Paris wondering why Ladybug would ever do such a thing. 

Why would she ever let Chat go when she needed him the most?

She ignored them, knowing it was for the greater good. She knew that what she did was necessary. 

She wasn’t going to allow Chat to continue to corrupt Plagg, even Viperion and Ryuuko agreed with her. 

And yes, she did always meet up with them...in their slightly hidden civilian forms. 

While the previous guardian told her the importance of keeping their identities, Marinette’s morality began to waver. 

If they wanted any chance of defeating Hawkmoth, they needed more trust with each other. 

Yes, they can potentially leak out each other’s identities if akumatized, but she was willing to risk it. 

So with Ryuuko and Viperion’s help, Ladybug sought a way to take down the enemy, once and for all. 

Marinette’s thoughts soon became muddled, equations blurring into her mind. 

She sat there, cradling her mind as math flooded her head, a concerned Tikki rushing to her. 

They are rushing it. 

They had to use substitution there, not the answer they got in the first part. 

What do you want?

Are you here to distract me?

No.

Just breath.

Recheck your fourth to last step. That’s where-

The voice faded, becoming a soothing hum. Mari felt as her shoulders relaxed, only then noticing she had then square and tense. 

She decided to sit up, eyeing her sketchbook. 

When was the last time she opened it? 

Just as she turned to a clean page, Marinette started to sketch, writing the word red at the side. 

That’s when she heard her soulmate say something she thought they were never going to say to her. 

Thank you. 

Giddiness filled her imagination, Marinette got to designing, Plagg and Tikki smiling as they watched her emerge herself into her work. 

———

Marinette placed a final pin into her alterations when her head began to angrily hum.

Who’s standard should I follow?

Marinette wondered what was going on with her soulmate that made them question and doubt the morality standards around them. But if she went off experience…

Neither. 

But I have to choose a side.

Don’t you have your own set of morals? Principles?

I do.

Then follow them.

Why can’t I just choose one of the ones laid before me?

Because if you keep trying to choose one of them, you’re going to burn out. You’re going to lose yourself.  And you’ll hate it. Every. Second. That passes.

Marinette began to panic when she didn’t hear anything said back, looking at Tikki for some type of explanation. 

Tikki simply looked at her with sad eyes while Plagg purred against Marinette’s cheek, Marinette deflating upon not getting an answer to her situation. 

———

Can you feel me?

The voice asked, Damian debating on whether to answer it. 

Because, no. He couldn’t feel them, but certainly did feel their emotions 

He had been for the past half year. 

And he knew that whoever they were, they were either a hero or vigilante. 

He was able to clearly feel their emotions and hear their thoughts when they finally defeated someone called Hawkmoth. 

He had tried to ask them who it was, but they never responded, quickly changing the subject. 

Mostly about their upcoming schedule. 

Something about having to make a dress for some event they were invited to. 

He remembers telling them about him being in the same boat, having to get his measurements taken for a new suit for the gala. 

Can you show me?

Their bond only allowed them to hear each other.

And our silhouettes. They added. 

“Master Damian, there you are.” Alfred spoke, Damian looking over at his grandfather (not that he would ever say it out loud). 

“Is this about the gala? I presume Father wants me to do something for him.”

“More like remind you of how-“

“I won’t let some random harlots try to seduce me.” Damian stated firmly, picking up Alfred the cat. “They can try, but I will not waver.” 

Alfred let a smile out, giving a few words for thought before leaving. 

Damian sighed, going back to his conversation. Or at least attempted. 

He tried to say something to his soulmate, but never got a response…

Not even as he tried to talk to her for the next few weeks.

———

Marinette stood by the punch bowl, watching as everyone around her talked like old time friends, chatting away into the night. 

She rubbed her hands against her bare arms, wondering why someone like her was even at the Wayne Gala. 

Oh right. She was personally invited because of her other identity: M. 

M - the mysterious designer that had taken the fashion world upside down with their presence and style. 

Marinette sighed, taking her glass of champagne and walking towards the balcony, not a single set of eyes following her crystal embedded red dress that stood out like a sore thumb.

Leaning against the stone railing, Marinette huffed, twirling the glass between her fingers, watching as the champagne sizzled as it swirled. 

Finding herself bored, Marinette hummed to herself, wishing she was still able to talk to her soulmate.

Ever since that night a few weeks ago, she hadn’t been able to contact them, even Tikki growing worried as to why it was happening.

Marinette missed talking to them, even if their relationship did start on the wrong foot.

She missed them...dearly.

As Marinette continued to hum to herself, something caught her attention; a single emerald glowing leaf flew into her line of sight, her breath hitching. 

It continued to fly away, into the hall in which the gala was taking place. 

Where are you going? Don't leave me alone

Without a second thought, Marinette quickly followed it, not caring about the stares she was gathering as she pushed her way through the crowds. 

She stumbled a bit as she saw the butterfly take a corner, almost losing it in the process. 

How do I follow you

Into the unknown

Marinette quickly called out Kaalki, giving out an order to bring Mullo to her. 

As soon as she had made it out into the open, Mullo quickly joined Marinette into the chase, multiplying to help with the search. 

Marinette’s heart beat louder and stronger as she watched the butterfly begin to pulse brighter than ever before, a smile growing unbeknownst to Mari. 

The joy died done when the butterfly stopped going, hovering in the middle of the garden which Mari found herself at. 

Finally having a moment to breath, Marinette looked around herself, hedges and rows of flora surrounded her, shades of camellias encircling her. In the distance, she noticed some blue salvias, the tips peeking from under bushes.

Why was she brought here?

Here of all places?

Her thoughts were broken when she heard a pair of shoes click their way towards her, Marinette watching as the shadowed figure became another person. 

When their eyes met, a group of leaves burst around them, the soft bluebell mingled with the emerald ones, dancing around each other. 

“So you’re my soulmate.” He started, Marinette wondering how he wasn’t breaking a sweat in the layers of formal attire. She also couldn’t help but notice that his suit had kevlar integrated. 

“I must be if the leaves guided us to one another.” Marinette responded, wondering what to do next. 

The two looked at each other, wondering who was going to take the next step when the man broke into a smile. 

“Damian. My name's Damian Wayne.”

“Marinette.” She followed. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I’m glad I found you, Damian.”

She really was. 

She was happy to have followed the wind bond into the unknown. 

Epilogue/Bonus:

Dick watched as Damian ran through the crowds in the gala. 

“Damian! Where-“

“Somewhere!” Damian yelled, peaking Dick’s curiosity. 

Dick waited until he saw him leave the hall before tailing him, having to pick up the pace when he almost lost sight of the boy a few times. 

Dick wondered where exactly Damian was running off to, worry growing stronger when they had left the manor and were running into the garden. 

He quickly tumbled into a hedge when he watched Damian slow down, following his gaze. 

There, a few meters away, was a small stature girl with the most captivating red dress. The off-shoulder dress perfected fitted the girl’s small frame, Dick watching with the utmost glee as he saw Damian approach the girl. 

Just as the two were three feet apart, Dick watched as a kaleidoscope of butterflies burst around them, leaving Dick starstruck. 

He’d always heard of the wind bond, some of his friends telling him they had it. But this was the first time he’s ever seen it, let alone seen actual soulmates-

Soulmates…

HIS BROTHER HAD A SOULMATE AND NEVER TOLD HIM?!

Filled with hurt, Dick curled into a ball and stayed there in shock. 

“Grayson. How long do you plan on staying there?” 

Dick raised his head, watching how Damian attempted to keep a smile in check while his soulmate was wrapped around his arm. “Come on, the gala’s about to end. I need to make an announcement as it does.”

It took a quick second for Dick to figure out what he had meant by that. 

“Damian! Don’t you dare-“

“Watch me.” Damian said with a grin, watching as the girl looked at Dick in confusion as Damian led her back inside. 

Dick, however, didn't make it in time to warn their father, watching as Damian announced to the world about his soulmate… right as his own father was going to propose to Selina on live. 

“That idiot.” Dick muttered, a smile still on his face as he watched Damian glow alongside his newfound love.

[belizedeservesbetter]

Six is Super Fun But Also Kinda Bad

sorry not sorry ‘bout what i said... 

In a way, I’m not entirely convinced Six is actually a musical. It feels more like a concert than anything, with a paper thin plot and dialogue that had me constantly cringing. However, much like a concert, I was there for the music and the music was of course fantastic. 

To begin, I want to say that I won the $30 lottery seats for this, which put me in the front row. To be very honest, I would not have paid any more than that to see this show. It is only about 70 minutes long and is again very much a concert and not a musical so I really couldn’t justify paying even a TKTS price for it. Unfortunately, the cheaper seats are usually in the back of the theater and this is very much a show where you want to be as close as possible. 

I really expected to be blown away by this show, but honestly? I was more disappointed than anything. The plot is genuinely bad and the dialogue is genuinely awful (filled to the brim with “lol” and social media references) and I’ll definitely be going into spoiler territory here but honestly it doesn’t even matter because there isn’t enough plot to hold the weight of a spoiler in the first place.

So basically the premise is these six queens are performing this show for you (how? why? don’t think too hard on it) since they have decided to form a girl group but will now hold a contest to see who had it worst with Henry VIII to see who will become the leader of the girl group - even though girl groups don’t really have leaders but again don’t think too hard on this. The six queens then each sing a song about their life and somehow skip all the actual interesting details about themselves before Catherine Parr (wife #6) is like guys WAIT we shouldn’t be pitting ourselves against each other! We should be feminist and be a TEAM and then they all turn to the audience and are like ACTUALLY we were a team all along and this was all a trick to get us the audience to see how bad comparing women is. Why was it a trick? Didn’t we already know comparing women is bad? Anyways, this “plot twist” occurs like ten minutes before the show ends and is just... kinda there? It’s very much a “oh okay” moment where you really can’t do anything but accept it for what it is because we know they’re gonna do the big MegaSix number at the end and that’s the best part anyway. 

But like I said before, the music is super fun and super catchy and in the moment is an absolute BLAST. So I had a fantastic time watching it because it’s a fun time, but once you give the show one single shred of thought it kind of falls apart completely. 

Also, the costumes are super gorgeous and I loved getting a front row seat to see all the details. I visited the Showstoppers NYC! exhibit in August and got to speak with one of the guys who hand makes Katherine Howard’s costume so it was very cool getting to see them all live and in person. 

Since the cast is only six people, I’ll go through them all (and their songs) one by one. Uniformly they were great, but I will admit that almost none of them stayed in character unless it was their turn to have their number. I blame this on the weird and clunky choreography, which is so excessive and so many moves that make them all look like robots. 

First up is Catherine of Aragon, played by Adrianna Hicks. She sings “No Way” which is a fantastic first song of the Queen Competition. She really commanded the stage and was super interactive with the audience.

Next up is Anne Boleyn, played by Andrea Macasaet. Her song is “Don’t Lose Ur Head” and it’s the best song in the show. It will in fact be stuck in my head forever and I loved how bubbly and fun Macasaet was! She is so tiny but her energy filled the entire theater! Her costume is also my favorite of the queens. 

However, as much as I loved her performance, I do take issue with how Anne Boleyn is portrayed. In actuality, Anne Boleyn was wicked smart and very religious and was not the ditzy having fun all day long person that she’s portrayed as. Her sister was Henry’s mistress and Anne really didn’t want to get involved with him. She was more interested in religion than anything else. 

(and a side note, something I found odd was Catherine of Aragon’s brief mention of Mary but Anne Boleyn not bringing up Elizabeth at all. She even jokes about writing lyrics for Shakespeare in a better version of her life but Elizabeth was not only one of the most influential queens England had but also saw Shakespeare’s plays) 

Which brings us to Jane Seymour, played by the lovely Abby Mueller, who looks and sounds strikingly like her sister. Unfortunately, Mueller is given the very worst song in the show in “Heart of Stone.” Oh man. This is a bad one. It’s the lowest energy song and has the worst lyrics and since you know the song is literally about Henry VIII you absolutely cannot get behind it. It’s a shame, because Mueller is giving the best performance in the show, and also the most consistent one!! 

This brings me to my wider Jane Seymour Problem. Jane’s whole character is basically “wait but actually I loved him” and the show kinda brushes aside the whole fact of Henry being completely awful whenever it comes to Seymour. Anne Boleyn does chime in a couple times with a “but he literally beheaded me” but Seymour is consistently trying to spin it around. The show doesn’t know how to navigate the fact that Henry probably only loved her because she gave him a son and that very little is actually known about this woman. In Jane’s little “better version of her life” in the last song, she actually pairs herself with Henry as a long term relationship/family thing, even though the whole point of the song before is that they don’t need Henry? Make it make sense, Six! Make it make sense! 

I’m gonna skip right over “Haus of Holbein” because that song was stupid and that whole sequence was stupid. 

Luckily the next song was way better, with Brittney Mack’s Anna of Cleves bringing down the house with “Get Down.” On the cast album, “Get Down” is the one I always skip but I don’t think I will anymore because Mack was incredible. She made that song one of the absolute highlights of the show. She was absolutely fantastic. 

Usually Katherine Howard is played by Samantha Pauly, but she was out and tonight the character was played by Courtney Mack, who was really wonderful. She can Sing with a capital S! “All You Wanna Do” is a really great song and it actually dives into interesting emotional territory and I wish more of the songs had that! I wish the show had more of that!! K Howard is usually the one no one talks about so I was glad she had a really good song that really laid out her life in a fairly raw way. 

Coming in at song number six is “I Don’t Need Your Love,” sung by Anna Uzele’s Catherine Parr. Uzele has a lovely voice but her song is kinda boring and the fact that it’s tied so tightly with the “plot twist” is kind of a let down. 

Then the six queens all sing a song (called “Six”) about what they would have liked their lives to be, and most of them are kind of absurd and have to do with becoming pop stars even though that wasn’t a thing back in Tudor England. 

Ultimatey, the show is ridiculously fun but has absolutely nothing to say, even though the show really thinks it’s saying something about feminism and history. It doesn’t. It really doesn’t. The closest it gets is “All You Wanna Do” and even then that’s barely breaking the surface. The show is also very high energy and high fun, so they expect you the audience to also gloss over all the inaccuracies and weird Jane Seymour stuff. 

This show is being built up as this pinnacle of feminist theatre but honestly it’s mostly mediocre writing that’s saved by catchy songs and powerhouse performers. 

Looking back at this review, it does look pretty negative but I swear I had a really good time! I swear it’s very fun! It just isn’t anything more than that. 

[lady-divine-writes]

Ineffable Holiday 2020 - “Schemes and Dreams and Kisses and Things” (Rated PG)

Summary: In the hopes of getting a first kiss from Crowley, Aziraphale hangs the largest ball of mistletoe he can find over his desk. And then ... he waits. (1514 words)

Notes: Written for the Ineffable Holiday 2020 prompt 'mistletoe'.

Read on AO3.

Aziraphale looks up.

He looks up again. 

He double-checks obsessively to see that it’s still there. 

Why wouldn’t it be? He hung it up only a few hours ago. Then he checked on it – twice. He looks, on average, three times every five minutes.

His neck is beginning to smart.

He tacked it up good and tight. There's no reason for it to fall. Besides, if it falls, it would fall right on him. No need to keep checking. 

That’s what he tells himself.

But a minute later, he checks again.

Aziraphale had waited until after the wine had been drunk, the cookies eaten, and a sated Crowley had retreated to the sofa in the bookshop's backroom before he hung the mistletoe directly above his desk chair, making sure it was in the perfect spot for Crowley to catch him sitting under it. It's the largest ball of mistletoe he could find - a massive floral bezoar wrapped in red velvet ribbon and adorned with a silver bell. Three poor birds have flown into his window already, attempting to get at the thing.

There should be no escaping this for either of them.

Aziraphale is determined.

He has every intention of sitting underneath the darned thing until Crowley gives him a kiss. On the lips, the forehead, the cheek - it doesn't matter. Just some combination of Crowley's mouth on his skin would be deemed acceptable.

Crowley and Aziraphale have been more than casual visitors in one another’s daily lives going on five months now. One might even say they’ve become closer to intendeds. In the traditional sense. Crowley drops by, they have tea, they talk, but that's the extent of it. To date, as far as securing a kiss is concerned, they haven't even come close.

Sadly, mistletoe is the best idea he’s had for getting one. 

Of course, he should probably learn to say the words, “Crowley, I really wish you would kiss me,” before relying on props like this semi-parasitic shrub. Regardless, he’s going to sit there, book in hand, and wait for Crowley to notice. Because what’s the use of mistletoe if Aziraphale points it out? He might as well go up and kiss Crowley, right? If that’s the case, he should have done it months ago.

God, Aziraphale realizes with wide-eyed intensity, I should have kissed him months ago.

Aziraphale glances up again and sighs.

Yes, he should have. But when it comes to Crowley, Aziraphale can be a bit of a coward. He's not too proud to admit that.

He’s not going to push. He’s waited 6000 years. What’s another one? Or ten? Or hundred? Now that they’re together, he’s going to let things progress at their own speed. 

Even if that speed is the excruciating crawl of another seventy-five human lifetimes.

A groan.

A mumble.

A curse.

A shuffle.

These are the sounds of a demon rising to greet the day.

Well ... the afternoon.

And Aziraphale’s brain stops working.

There had been several close calls when Aziraphale thought Crowley was getting out of bed, but he simply rolled over and fell back to sleep.

Not this time.

Aziraphale feels every step Crowley takes, the wood floor creaking as he navigates a path with eyes shut to Aziraphale's small kitchenette, putting on a pot of water for coffee. Aziraphale hears Crowley hum to himself - a mixture of an ear-worm Christmas tune and a song Aziraphale vaguely recognizes as being performed by the band Queen. 

A love song to a velocipede, he thinks?

Aziraphale taps his toe anxiously as he waits ... waits ... waits, shifting positions, trying to figure out which version of him reading Faust seems more casual. With his elbow resting on his desktop? Or him reclining back in his chair? 

Aziraphale pops bolt upright when he hears Crowley click off the stovetop and pour. He crosses his legs when Crowley's heavy footsteps head his way, then uncrosses them when Crowley finally emerges. He's dressed in the same clothes he fell asleep in - swanky black trousers and jacket, a grey silk shirt, his glasses fixed firmly onto the bridge of his nose. He miracled the wrinkles out of his clothes and his hair into a semblance of neat waves, but he still looks like he slept in the gutter outside. He walks in carrying two steaming mugs, raising one as an offering and a greeting.

“Uh, hello, my dear,” Aziraphale says, fighting with all his might not to glance upward. 

Eyes half-lidded, Crowley sets one of the mugs in front of Aziraphale. “Hey, angel. Here ya go.” 

“Oh. Thank you. That's very kind of you." Aziraphale toys with his mug, turning it left and right. The coffee is cloudy, but not with cream. A sniff tells him that Crowley topped off his mug with a generous dollop of Bailey's. Thank goodness! he thinks. Liquid courage. Even with this good fortune staring him in the face, Aziraphale doesn't lift his mug to drink. "Any plans for today, dear boy?"

"Hmm ... not really." Crowley yawns. "Thought I might just hang 'round here, bother you if you don't mind."

"I don't mind at all," Aziraphale says. "It's always wonderful having you around."

"Great. Oh, by the way, your book’s upside down." 

"Uh ..." Aziraphale flips to the cover and discovers that yes, indeed, it's upside down. So much for casual. “Thank you.” 

"Don't mention it. I'm headin' back to the sofa. You should join me, read your book there."

"Should I?"

"Mm-hmm." Crowley takes a sip from his mug. "How else am I to bother you if we're in two separate rooms?"

Aziraphale nods. "Yes. I see. Well, in that case, I'll be right in."

"Fantastic."

Aziraphale sighs as Crowley passes in front of him, staring into his cup, missing the mistletoe entirely. 

That was a disaster, Aziraphale thinks. One for the record books. 

Wasn't he determined to sit under the mistletoe until Crowley kissed him? 

Yes, but he doesn't want to turn down an invitation to spend time together either. 

Maybe he can bring the mistletoe with him into the backroom, sneakily set it up in there. Crowley probably wouldn't notice if he Aziraphale hung it not so sneakily. He looks like he has one foot stuck knee-deep into unconsciousness as is. 

A step through the threshold, Crowley stops when he notices Aziraphale isn't following him. He takes a step back and looks at him - book closed around his index finger, cheeks pink, his lower lip pinched between his teeth, eyes aimed down at his feet. He looks embarrassed about something. 

And disappointed.

It can't really be because Crowley interrupted his reading. Aziraphale has read that book thousands of times. Which is probably why he was reading it upside down. More of a challenge for him.

But Crowley didn't get up for coffee. 

He got up to give Aziraphale his Christmas present.

Early.

Mostly because Crowley can't wait. 

If he doesn't give Aziraphale his present now, Crowley will think up a dozen reasons why he should wait.

A dozen bullshite reasons.

"Aziraphale?" he strolls over to his angel, waking inch by inch with every step he takes, and sets his coffee mug on the desk.

"Yes, my dear?" Aziraphale looks up. "What is ...?"

With a sleepy but mischievous smile on his lips, Crowley puts a hand behind Aziraphale's neck and kisses him, drawing out the moment before, giving his angel all the opportunity in the world to tell him to stop.

But Aziraphale says no such thing.

Crowley’s mouth is soft and warm and tastes like Bailey’s, but what Aziraphale loves about this kiss is it’s in no way urgent, the way high-romance novels make people believe all kisses should be. According to the lovely publishers at Harlequin, first kisses must be desperate to be passionate, painfully so. 

Crowley kisses Aziraphale as if he's claiming something that has always belonged to him, something he lost track of, and he wants to savor it. Crowley kisses Aziraphale as if they could stand there all morning long, all day long, and kiss, and Crowley would be perfectly content. This is where their Tuesday is going to begin and end - with Crowley kissing Aziraphale.

Crowley pulls away grinning, but Aziraphale looks dumbfounded, not a single word left in his head to express the thoughts sparking off one by one like fireworks.

"Wot?" Crowley asks, mildly self-conscious that his plan may have not gone off the way he'd hoped.

“Uh ... oh ... mistletoe?” Aziraphale asks, eyes darting up towards the obvious culprit behind this moment.

“No,” Crowley says. “I’ve wanted to do that for months now. I just never got the chance.”

"Oh."

"So ... you gonna let me bother you?" Crowley teases, and for the first time, Aziraphale catches on to the fact that bother in this context means kiss.

Perhaps more.

And yes, Aziraphale definitely wants that.

"That sounds ... lovely." He stands from his desk chair and takes Crowley's hand, leaving his ridiculous bundle of mistletoe, and their coffees, behind.

[popculturebuffet]

Tex Avery Birthday Spectacular!

Hello all you happy people! And welcome to a celebration of the only cartoon director I knew as a kid and one of the finest whose ever lived, Mr. Tex Avery. 

Avery is a legend in the animation industry and rightly so. Starting out at a few other studios, and loosing sight in one of his eyes due to some tomfoolery at one, Tex was annoyed with the restrctive enviorment and eventually found his way to Termite Terrace, the animated shorts wing of Leon Schislenger Productions, aka the future Warner Brothers Studios and the makers of Looney Tunes. And his impact on the franchise is vast, cannot be overstated and I only learned about just how much recently: The man created Daffy Duck and Bugs Bunny, created the prototype for Elmer Fudd, and created the design for Porky we’re all far more familiar with. 

Eventually though while he was happy there, his career when ended when he eventually got into a squabble with Leon schsinger over the ending of “The Heckling Hare” and left soon after. Given he got a four week unpaid suspension for it , a bit extreme given all he’d given the studio, I can’t blame him. He instead went over to MGM who badly needed his wacky energy, and thus got to go as nuts as he wanted, with creative control a better budget and the result was his peak and classic characters like Red and my personal faviorite and personal boy: Droopy. I will try and do a birthday thing for him next month, we’ll see if my rather packed schedule will allow for it. Point is I watched the guys cartoons a lot as a kid between looney tunes and his shorts being repacked for the Tex Avery show in the late 90′s, and until recently I had no idea the depth and scope of his career: The guy gave looney tunes it’s standard fourth walll breaking and made it a huge part of the industry, and he was the one to hlep htem break out of being a Disney knockoff and into what we know today. The guy has my utmost respect so today I honor him as the first animator to get one of my birthday specials: As is my standard ten shorts, my patreons get to pick one each (I now have two but she start’s next month so her benefits will too) if they so choose (Kev opted out of the porky pig one next week) and I went to my friend blah for a recomendation as he’s an avid fan of the golden age of animation and thus usually has a really good choice up his sleeve. Now that’s out of hte way join me under the cut for some shenanigans as old tex would want it that way. 

1. The Gold Diggers of 49 (1935)

This was Tex Avery’s first short with warner and the first of his I could find, not ot mention his first time working with Chuck Jones and Bob Clampett, who he’d mentor and go on to be the heart and soul of Looney Tunes and define the characters Tex created. And since this is more significant than his earlier work i’m coutning it as his first. And as a start it’s.. ehhhhhhh. 

I don’t blame him for it though.  Most don’t hit it out of hte park their first time up to bat, and frankly the deck was stacked against him. He was saddled with Beans the Cat...

No one brak no one. He was part of an attempt by warner to create a new star as part of a Little Rascals/Our Gang style group of kids debuting in the short “I Haven’t Got a Hat”. This short is notable not for Beans, who no one cares about, but for the debut of Looney Tunes first star: Porky Pig. Porky was just one of the various characters but the only one audiences really liked. It took some time for Warner to get the hint though, hence Beans starring here and Porky playing his girlfriend’s father.. and also now being much older than him for some reason. 

So instead of being a Little Rascals ripoff bean is now a mickey mouse ripoff, as the short gives me mickey mouse vibes.. but without the things that made those shorts actually good and feels mostly built on studios trying to make what they think audiences will like. There’s sparks of waht Tex would become.. but just not enough wiggle room for him to make something special. Also porky looks and sounds weird in this one and Bean’s girlfriend has a REALLY annoying voice. Oh and two horrible Asian stereotypes, because it was acceptable at the time but lord was it never okay. Then again I should be at least mildly greatful none of the shorts had blackface.. because tex apparently REALLY had a problem with that, something I obviously didn’t know as a kid as they edited it out but given most of his MGM shorts have “blackface edited out of x version”, yeahhh.... I may like the guy, quite a bit and feel those gags weren’t done out of malice.. but it dosen’t make them okay, they were never okay and he should’ve done better. 

2. I Love to Singa (1936) Thankfully our next entry is 800% better, as we get a classic from my childhood and probably multiple childhoods. Admittedly part of the reason this one stuck in my head is the title song, sung by a young jazz singing owl whose dad doesn’t like that he sings Jazz instead of classical, enters a contest and nearly looses singing classical to please his dad only for his dad to intervene and finally accept his son. It’s a wonderful story of acceptance with some decent gags, beautiful animation and one hell of a title track that will probably never leave my head. The song is really what makes this short and sometimes that’s okay. Also just to note so someone else doesn’t: This short was a parody of the Jazz Singer one of the first talkie’s.. and also a film that uses blackface and whose 80′s remake bafflingly also uses blackface for some reason. Yes really. 

3. Tortoise Beats Hare (1941)

One of Tex’s only four Bugs Shorts.. but given 3/4 of them are certified classics, and one of them involving a horrible stereotype.. to the point it’s part of the rightfully infamous “Censored 11″ and the ONLY one involving Bugs Bunny. 

So as I said, Tex has a bad history with casual racism, and while it was the style at the time and I don’t THINK he was actively malicious towards black people.. it doesn’t make some of his work any less harmful. The rest of his bugs work though is remembered for the right reasons: his first appearance, and early classic we’ll get to next.. and this standout everyone who saw it as a kid or an adult fondly remembers. 

You all know the premise: Bugs finds out, in an utterly brilliant wall shattering bit at the start where he reads off the crew names and then the title, that this picture will have him beaten by a turtle and taking offense to that challenges the guy. This is honestly one of the few Bugs shorts where he’s the out and out villain of the picture. He’s doing this race purely out of ego, yells at Cecil whose perfectly nice in this one, and in general is the bully set up for a fall he’d later be famous for taking on. But it works, both because this si early in bugs career so it’s entirely in character, and because Mel just really sells the obnoxiousness while still being funny. 

This short also has one of Tex’s trademark setups as this is essentially a prototypical droopy cartoon: A meek, goofy voiced protagonist whose shorter than his large obnoxious enemy and who torments him by showing up every where he’s going to be and casually doing it. Cecil even does so using an army of fellow turtles with Droopy later using a similar trick in one of his shorts. As a big Droopy fan i’m clearly not complaining and while Droopy would do it better, this short’s still a classic for a reason with tons of great bits and is a fun break from the usual bugs setup, though in full fairness the usual bugs setup is still solid gold so take that how you will. 

4. The Heckling Hare (1941)

Originally I was going to have Daffy in Hollywood in this spot as I thought it was on Max, it was not,  so I swapped it out with his final bugs cartoon. For the record his first, and Bugs, is being saved for Bugs birthday this summer. And honestly i’m glad I did because this was 7 mintues of pure joy that has another setup that Tex himself and other Looney Tunes animators would resuuse: Bugs being pitted up against a far dumber antagonist. One who often still fully deserves it but allows him to just have fun for several minutes at this dumb bastard’s expense. It works well here, with tons of clever gags, my faviorite being the two doing dumb faces with each other only for bugs to stop and pull out a sign as seen right above. 

It’s also an approriate capper to our warner made Tex shorts for the day, as this would be the one that got him fired. He and Schisnger argued over it and he got suspended as I mentioned and I found it again a bit fucking extreme. So did Tex and after a handful of shorts elsewhere, he’d move over to MGM, whose cartoons would ironically be bought up by warner. They needed a shot in the arm to compete with Disney and Warner and Tex was happy to provide hte needle filled with nonsense. And the results.. are pure gold. 

5. Dumb Hounded (1943)

I’ll admit as a kid I didn’t know Tex’s MGM shorts were theatrical, or any shorts but somehow I knew they weren’t looney tunes. Besidds obviously having hteir own show they just had their own tone and pacing and style. While the Looney Tunes aren’t bad, at all honestly, Tex’s work here was in a class by itself with MGM gladly giving him a higher budget and even more creative freedom. And the results speak for themselves and one of those results is one of if not my faviorite classic cartoon character. And since I might not be able to get to his birthday with one of these next month, though i’m certainly going to try march is just VERY VERY FULL. Anyways point is our happy hero was introduced here. And given i’m frequently depressed and often withdrawn, not that you could tell from my reviews here, I related to this depressed bulldog who always won anyway despite being an outsider, finding love, sucess and always beating a much larger, much more assholish antagonist. But Droopy is good on his own merits as his shorts are just that funny. 

This was true from Day One as dumb hounded is fucking perfect: The Wolf that Avery always used in his cartoons escapes from jail and is hunted by bloodhounds including our boy, who charmingly introduces himself with “You know what, i’m the hero”. From there it’s a simple setup but a great one as Droopy finds the guy.. then chases him from here to enternity with one amazing gag after another. Simple, utterly hilarious and the dawn of a legend, with the ending having Droopy go a bit nuts after getting his reward money before returning to his usual demeanor “You know what? I’m happy” So am I bud, so am I. 

6. Red Hot Riding Hood (1943)

Yup same year. Tex hit the ground sprinting. This one is his signature MGM toon and for good reason. Using his usual forth wall breaking style, both the wolf and red riding hood rebel when it opens with a typical telling, so it changes to a 40′s nightlife setting: Grandma lives in a penthouse and is man hungry, Red is a fanservicey night club act and the Wolf is a sexually harassing asshole who chases after here and has some over the top reactions to her that are iconic in some’s mind.

The short is gorgeously animated with Red’s dance sequence and Wolfie’s reactions being the highlight and the short isn’t as bad as it could be as the wolf is treated as a scumbag for hitting on her and generally being a creep. SO the first two thirds aren’t bad with nice touches like the narrator clearly improvising the new story. It’s just badly hampered by the last half where Grandma sexually harasses Wolfie and it just doesn’t work. This double standard stuff annoys me and “haha get it it’s funny when a woman stalks a man” isn’t funny. Wolfie stalking her really isn’t that funny either it’s just not you know an entire third of the film. So a classic for a reason.. but one that really has degraded with time. Still worth analyzing and what not, just not great. 

7. Who Killed Who? (1943)

Yes still. It was a good year. This is another one off like Red Hot Riding Hood and as is tradition since the Tom and Jerry one, my patreons each get to pick one and Kev selected this one. And this.. was a great choice. 

Seriously I could not stop laughing with a great gag a minute, WAY too many to mention, a classic ending, and just nothing but net the whole time. I don’t have much to say really.. but because this one’s just good. The whodunnit genre hasn’t really gone away, it’s cliches are welll known even today and this is a lovely parody of it that hits the ground running after a live action intro and runs right through the wall across a lake and straight into droopy “You moved.”. 

The only real observation I have other than “This is fucking awesome watch it immediately” is that the villian looks exactly like the Phantom Blot. Who knew the Phantom Blot was a live action guy with a weird haircut the whole time huh?  Seriously this one is a masterpiece, an instant faviorite, and I highly recommend it. 

8. Screwball Squirrel (1944)

As you can probably guess by how I lead it in this one is not very good. It is tex TRYING to make a bugs or daffy type character again and somehow failing at it. He created them, he did plenty of shorts like theirs with other characters and got how the cat and mouse antics of the old theatrical shorts worked.. so I have no idea how this one happened. 

I’m really not overselling it: The short is about Screwy, who hyjacks it from a cute widdle bunny clearly parodying bambi.. who he beats the shit out of, then decides to get things going asks a dumb dog to hunt him, then insults him to provoke him to attacking him. He then spends the entire short tormenting the poor dumb bastard who again HE PROVOKED. It feels like a poor imitation of dumb hounded, as while Bugs clearly outclassed the dog there, he’d die if he lost, so while he was punching down, he clearly didn’t have a choice and you can’t honestly blame him. Here, Screwy is fine, he just wants someone’s head to fuck with and spends a whole short torturing him. We don’t even get catarsis as while the dog does catch him at the end via  weird gag, they end up deciding to beat up the bunny instead. 

His voice is also just the worst, just utterly grating and making me wish an anvil woudl fall on HIM instead. Screwy would return for some other shorts but I have no idea why. This was easily the weakest of these ten shorts and I will probably not return to the guy next year.

9. Bad Luck Blackie (1949)

This is one i’d forgotten till I got a ways in. It’s also weirdly one of the only MGM Tex shorts on HBO Max as this was included in the Tom and Jerry collection for some reason, the dog in it clearly isn’t the tom and Jerry verison of spike... though the dog Droopy fought a lot was indeed called spike. Yes that is confusing, no I don’t know why MGM thought this was a good idea. 

 As a result though I have been saving giving out about this till now but seirously , put the tex avery shorts on HBO Max. Their on Blu-Ray, their on boomerang, especially Droopys. I do not get why they aren’t on here. I’m tired of them holding things out for the boomerang app when not everyone subscirbes to that. Let me have my morose dog dammit. 

That giving out aside i’m glad this one caught my eye via i’ts weird name as it’s another masterpiece. It also does what one Tom and Jerry short I reviewed, the one where tom’s a millionare,  earlier this month failed to: properly make it’s antagonist loathsome enough to deserve the parade of abuse he gets. With that one Tom is tourturning jerry for like 30 seconds, but Jerry torments him for most of 5 minutes. 

Here we get about two minutes of our lead kitten getting torremnted by a mean bulldog. It’s not only still a bit entertaining to lessen the horror just enough to be watchable but not enough to make the bulldog likeable, but it makes what happens for the rest of the short oh so fucking satsifying. While the previous short today really didn’t get the karmic ballance neded for a good classic screwball comedy short this one overwhelmingly does.

Our kitten gets some help in the form of Blackie, a professional black cat who agrees to turn the tables, sauntring across to a wonderfully catchy tune. any time the little guy whistles. The result from there is 5-6 nonstop minutes of comedy genius, as Tex finds new and creative ways for the cat to come out of nowhere, and even shakes things up to keep it intresting towards the end iwth the dog getting the whistle.. only for it to still not work out, and for our little kitten to get his revenge at last by painting himself black after the bulldog paints blackie white. As should be obvious by now, it’s really good, showing Screwball Squirrel was the exception not the rule. In general Tex was this good during his mgm and when he was at his peak we got gems like this. Truly sensational, watch it if you have max it’s under the tom and jerry section for some reason. 

10. T.V. of Tommorow A decent one I remember seeing as a kid. Not much to say though, it’s mostly a bunch of gags about “future” tv’s based on their viewer’s needs. Some good stuff.. not as good as most of what was here today but still better than the worst of it and still very memorable and part of a memorable tetralogy i’ll probably come back to when I do Tex’s birthday again next year. Not a bad note to end on though. 

Overall these shorts show just how strong a creator tex was, gleefully taking convention and ripping it to tiny pieces. As i’ve mentioned many times i’ll be coming back to his work next year.. and probably be watching a hell ofa lot more in the time between. Might even do a second special on him in between birthday ones. We’ll see how this does. The Tom and Jerry one sadly wasn’t quite the hit I hoped. 

Until then I have many other reviews. And since Today (This review is late) was supposed to be the 90′s tom and jerry movie but that turned out not to be on Max for some reason. I still plan to cover it some day i’ll just have to find it and buy it first. But tommorow if I have the time i’ll be continuing the Lena retrospective with an intresting little side trip. So until then, i’ts been a pleasure and you know what? Thanks for reading. 

[tipsydipsydo]

Happy Easter! 🐇 [M]

Topic: You're wearing a sexy bunny costume for them on Easter Sunday!

Gender of the Reader: female

(This Scenario also has a male version!)

Word Count: ca. 500-600 words for each member

Genre: a bit Fluff; most Smut!

Warnings: Dirty Language and Dirty Talk; Petnames; Costume-Play; Pet-Play; Sex Toys; Mastubation; Kitchen-Sex; Teasing, Edging and Overstimulation; Praising; Daddy-Kink; soft Dom-/Sub-Themes; soft BDSM-Themes; Handcuffs; little bit exhibitionism; "public sex" (Sex in Garden); Breeding-/Impregnation Kink; Breeding-Dirty Talk; Mentions of unprotected Sex (please stay safe in reality, always!)

A/N: Happy Easter my Sweeties!!🐰💕

I hope you'll had/still have a great Sunday and got a lot of good food and Sweets!

I wanted to be a little Easter Bunny for you too and wrote a little smutty special! I hope y'all like it!

[Links]

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My official Masterlist!

「© tipsydipsydo」

These following scenarios are my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

Jin

You hum dreamingly to the music, that comes out of the radio behind you and swaying rhythmically your hips to the melody. While Jin is in the shower, you decided to set the dining table and cooking the eggs for the Easter breakfast.

Jin is usually the one who wakes up earlier on Sunday mornings and makes breakfast for you. You already tried your best to be a "better" girlfriend and to return the favor of a ready breakfast more often.

But you have to admit that you just love it to sleep in and you have the habit of pressing the snooze button way too often. Up to the point that the alarm clock didn't ring anymore. Maybe that's also the reason why the other days of the weeks are always a drama for you. To 95% you oversleep and only have around 10 minutes left to get ready for work and still catch your metro.

Today is Easter Sunday and as by a miracle you managed to get up earlier than Jin, to shower without him noticing and dress up in your new bought lingerie and recently ordered headband with bunny ears.

The last weeks were super stressful for Jin and there wasn't much time or motivation left for intimacy. That's why you thought Jin deserves a nice view right in the morning as a little Easter gift. Especially when you know that one of his soft spots are you in white, innocent looking lingerie...

An exited smile spreads on your lips as you hear nearing footsteps and a small gasps behind you. Seems like your plan worked out pretty well! You're about to turn around and to smile cheekily at him but there is someone, who is more than eager to get his seductive Easter gift himself.

"Is this here your way to wish me 'Happy Easter', Babygirl? You're the cutest and sexiest Easter Bunny I've ever seen...", say Jin with a breathy voice into your ear and sucks on exactly that spot under your ear that makes your legs weak in no time.

"Y-Yeah, I think so... I-I just wanted to surprise you and treat my Darling with a little gift after such stressful weeks...", you whimper and bite on your lower lip when you feel his hardening cock against your buttcheeks.

"Oh yes, Baby~ I like your little surprise really, really much! Right now, I would prefer to bend you over the kitchen counter and make you feel really good instead of eating breakfast... what do you think?"

"I hoped you would say that... because the eggs aren't ready now and need ten more minutes anyway~"

You hear an amused chuckle from behind and squirm in anticipation when Jin bend you over the counter.

"Hm, has someone here forgot to let the eggs boil right on time? How good that we know, how to use this time properly...", teases Jin and push the fabric of your lace panties out of the way.

Yoongi

You hoped, no you actually thought that Yoongi would finally take some time off for you when it's a freaking official and national holiday for everyone! But you should've known your boyfriend better.

When he "can't" get into the studio to work on his tracks without being super rude with this action, then he would take his work simply at home. Of course you understand when he has to finish a new track because he's in the flow.

But when one track is mostly finished, it leads to ideas for a new song that he has to write down in his notes. Things like this are going on and on with it.

It's damn Easter Sunday and he had left you in your shared bed at seven a.m. in the early morning to "quickly finish this one track before breakfast".

Well, it's 11:30 a.m. now and you two ate breakfast two hours ago. It's an understatement that you're frustrated. You're pretty pissed off.

Officially you wanted to be the one who got up earlier this morning because of the little Easter surprise you planned for Yoongi. You ordered cute Bunny ears a week ago and a matching set of black lace lingerie. Okay, with panties that didn't really exist, just a bit lace covers your vulva. When you tried your outfit on, it actually reminded you of a playbunny outfit.

Yoongi don't want to admit it but thanks to Namjoon you know, that your boyfriend has a little big things for sexy bunny costumes...

Planned was to seduce Yoongi with being a sexy, naughty bunny in the morning so he has to take care of his bunny girl, maybe with a hot round of sex before breakfast.

Well, it seems like you had to take care of your needs by yourself when it seems like that you're so uninteresting for your boyfriend!

Provocatively clickling with you black stilettos, you stalk into the living room to the dining table where he sits. You place yourself next to him, directly onto the table and watch him a few seconds. He still didn't give you one single look. 

You growl frustrated and turn your eyes away from you pretty annoying boyfriend, spreading your thighs and grab that pink rabbit vibrator you brought into the living room as well. Only the sound of the vibrations seems to be so irritating that Yoongi is willing to give your sight a glance. 

A satisfied smile spread on your lips when you hear Yoongi choke and then coughing, pulling your pussy lips apart to give him an even better view on your drenched and so needy pussy. He clears his throat before he talked to you in a raspy voice.

"Can you explain this here to me? What's that for a bratty behaviour, hm? Desturbing me purposely in my work. Looks like, my little bunny a bit attention-seeking and desperate to get her pussy hole stuffed at Easter time? Well, I think I could satisfy these primal bunny needs definitely better than this shitty vibrator, don't you think?", he growls and smirk cockily at you when he get up from his chair and comes between your legs.

He just need a second to pull his sweatpants down, throwing the vibrator through the whole room and stuffing your needy hole with his own cock.

Namjoon

It couldn't have been better timed when Namjoon realizes that he had forgotten some important papers, that are supposed to be read at signed over the Easter Holidays, in his studio. So when he head out of the apartement to his studio, you use the twenty minutes of being alone in the apartement to set and dress yourself up. 

Two weeks ago you went to the sex-store of your trust which has a big, separated floor just with BDSM accessoires to buy yourself a sexy bunny outfit. It's the store where you two get most of your toys and utensils for your play sessions.

Because it's Easter, you planned a sexy surprise for your darling by yourself. Maybe it'll be not the way how Joonie usually like it... but you think, he should try new things too~

You're leaning against the bedroom doorframe, when the apartement door opens again. A playful, dirty smirk forms on your boyfriend's lips in the moment he realize your presence in the hallway. He put his papers without a second thought on the shoe cabinet and drops his jacket carelessly on the floor next to the wardrobe before he makes his way to you.

"I apprechiate your outfit, my sweet little bunny~ But to be honest, I'd like it a little bit more when it would be black lace instead of black leather. For being my cute whiny Sub, you look a little too much like a Bunny Dominatrix in this outfit...", chuckles Namjoon with his deep voice. 

His lips are searching for yours when he guides you with your back to your shared kingsize bed. The kiss is dominant, in a kinda leading behaviour. It's the type of a kiss you usually like, a kiss that makes you whiny and needy for him, but not today. Today you'll turn the whole thing around!

You're already on the bed, Namjoon above is you and you're literally waiting for the command that usually follow in such a session. But you make sure it wouldn't come tonight. Tonight you'll be the one who gives commands to Namjoon and makes him beg.

In a moment where Namjoon is distracted, you take your chance and turn your two bodies in a quick move around. Now you're the one who's sitting on his hips and tie your boyfriend's wrist with leather cuffs, that you hidden under the pillows, to the headboard. Just alone Namjoon's confused and disbelieving facial expression was the whole thing absolutely worth it!

"What the fu-"

"Shh, Namjoon. Watch your mouth and behave! When you're a good boy for me today, I'll not tease you soo much and maybe, when you're a really good boy for me, maybe I'd let your pretty cock cum in my pussy. When you're a bratty boy, you won't cum in any way today and I'm would ruin you the way you always ruin me. I want to see you all whiny, sobbing and begging, my dear Darling~", you wisper devilishly in his ear.

Hoseok

You promised Hobi to bake his favourite cake for coffee-time on Easter Sunday. But what you didn't expect, that you would be almost naked while baking! You wear nothing beside this white frilly vintage apron, these bunny ears on your head, the pink lacey string-ouvert (that literally covers nothing!) and this damn remote controlled rabbit-bullet between your legs.

While you're seriously struggling to concentrate properly on the instructions of the recipe, Hobi seems like to has the best time in his life. He's sitting on the opposite side of the kitchen at the dining table and obviously enjoy the sight you give him with your barely covered body.

To see your legs trembling and to hear you whine even more whenever he turns the vibration of the bullet on a higher setting, satisfy this little sadistic devil in him the most. Especially when you're so worked up that your sweet pussy is literally dripping wet, smearing your juices all over the insides of your tighs and little pearls of arousal falling down on the kitchen tiles.

Yeah, you're so turned on it's driving you insane, but it's still not enough to cum. This damn bastard, that you call your boyfriend, knows way to well when you're at the edge to cum and turns the vibration immediately down. Always with the explaination 'to give you the chance again to focus better onto the baking process'. 

God, sometimes you think you really start to hate him but deep, deep down you know, that you love his teasing as much he does.

The worst thing about this damn vibrator is that he has these bunny ears. The bullet doesn't just stimulates your g-spot, no. That would be too simple for Hobi. It also torture your clit too, when the tips of the ears rubbing sideways along your clit!

"Baby, I think you have to work a little bit faster when we plan to eat the cake at 15:30 p.m., we need to still bake it and then it has to cool down...", said Hobi in a fake concerned voice. You know very well that he just want to rush you, with the goal that you'll mess the cake up. When this happens he has a good reason to punish you even more~

You shoot him death glares in the moment you're about sprinkle a pinch of salt for taste into the dough. Well... it's unfortunately more than a pinch of salt. A lot more than that.

While you curse about your mistake and the fact that the whole dough is messed up now, Hobi sighs dramatically and stands up.

"Hm, my dear Lady? Do you know that you ruined the whole cake with your unconcentrated behaviour? That's means I'll not get only one piece of cake today and with it not my Easter gift. But you promised me that! How you'll make up for that, hm? I think that just means that I have to punish you."

"Hobi, it's not my fucking fault that I-"

"Honey, watch your mouth. Do you want to blame Daddy for your inadequate discipline? Well then, Daddy has to work with his little Girl on her discipline, right?"

With these words he takes you to the bedroom and make sure you'll be a lot more disciplined after his teaching lesson.

Jimin

When Jimin told you back in the middle of March that he'll went in a diet, you got immediatley suspicious and all alarm bells rings in your head. He promised you that's he just want to make a sugar diet over the next few weeks and with it, over the Easter Holidays, so he couldn't stuff himself full with too many sweets again during easter.

You talked a lot with your boyfriend about it, promised you that he just don't want to eat too much chocolate but beside this, that he'll keep up with his normal eating habits. But now only without a dessert after Dinner and controlling his snacking a bit more. Even the rest of the members had to promise to you that they'll make sure that Jiminie will continue to eat his meals properly.

After the first two weeks you relaxed more and more, realized that he's only on this diet to advoid products with a lot of sugar in it. To make it easier for him and to enjoy the advantages of a sugar diet too, you joined him in his plans.

But that also means to ignore all these delicious sweets for easter in the supermarket. When you two went grocery shopping last week, Jimin shooted death glares to all these chocolate bunnies that tried to seduce him with their cute wrapping foil.

That's why you planned a little Easter surprise for him on Sunday so at least he'll not start to hate Easter completely.

After you two got back from your Brunch (where the restaurant service just wanted to make a nice gesture and placed a tiny chocolate candy in the shape of an easter egg on your seat, frustrated Jiminie only even more), you said to your Darling that you want to freshen yourself up quickly and then join him on the couch.

You stepped out of the bathroom in gorgeous pastel pink high heels, a matching set of lingerie and a metal hairband in the shape of bunny ears on the top of your head. The simple accessoire was decorated with cute flowers, which makes your sexy-cute appearance perfect.

When Jimin hear the clicking sound of your heels, he turns around to you confused until an expression of complete disbelief manifests in his face.

"...because you're on diet and the fact that you can't even eat one tiny chocolate easter bunny, I thought you should be able to-"

"...I should be able to eat at least a bunny out, right?", interrupt you Jimin when he comes to you with dark lustful eyes and a really hungry smirk on his lips.

"...Y-Yes...", you answer him breathlessly as he push you roughly against the wall and makes you drown in his passionate kiss.

"You're always my favourite treat of sweet and you know that, Baby.", growls Jimin into your ear when he directs you backwards to the bedroom.

Taehyung

You bite your lower lips hesitantly as you stare through the vitreous living room door into the big garden of Taehyung's and your shared apartement. Your actual plan was to hide some of the Easter Sweets for Taehyung in the house and in the garden as well. 

The idea itself is not bad or problematic at all. Just the fact that you're already dressed in the lingerie, that you bought extra for the sexy surprise you've prepared for Tae, is the actual problem. Maybe also the fact that your neighbours are an elderly couple with way too much time and their intense passion to watch the neighbourhood like hunting dogs. 

Especially when the dear old Madame notices something "very interesting", "very unusual" or "very suspicious" she just has to gossip with her dear Ladies on their weekly tea-parties about it.

And as we all know, old people don't know the term "sleep in", they're always already awake at six or seven a.m.

But then Taehyung's word cames back into your mind.

"Let them talk when they don't have a better Hobby than this."

With exactly these words in your head you open the terrace door and step in nothing more than your grey lingerie, your bunny ears and flip flops on your feet into the cool morning air.

Fuck it, let them gossip about whatever god knows!

It's still early in the morning, around 08:30 a.m., that's why every breeze is still a little chilly and you try your best to hide everything in the shortest time possible. You didn't want anything more than finally run inside into the warm living room!

You're so immersed into your hiding project that you don't recognize that someone is coming up behind you.

"Hm? Who do we have here? Did I disturb the Easter Bunny at his work? ...and I didn't know until now that Easter Bunnies are dressed so sexy~", you hear Taehyung's deep voice chuckling.

You gasp startled for breath, instinctively you want to cover your body with your arms and hands. Your Boyfriend starts laughing softly and pulling you into his arms to his warm chest. Automatically you're relaxing again when you're sure that only Tae saw you in this outfit here in the garden. Beside that you also appreciate the warmth of his body really much.

"I didn't know that my usually so reserved girl will become so bold on Easter Sunday and start to run around as a damn sexy bunny in the garden, dressed with nothing more than bunny ears and lacey transparent lingerie~", tease Taehyung with his typical boxy grin.

You're about to open your mouth to explain this unordinary situation but in that moment Tae already press a hungry kiss onto your own lips.

He guides you back the the terrace and pulls, without breaking the kiss, the cover of the garden couch down. Then he sit on the soft but still cool cushions down and placing you onto his lap, pulling you into a new heated kiss. The hard outline of his cock in his pyjama pants against your own damp center promise you, what thing he's planning to so with you. In your garden, on Easter Sunday and at fucking 08:45 a.m?!

"Tae, I don't know if-"

"Hey Baby... you're the one who started this here, sprinting around in our garden just wearing lingerie and bunny ears! I think, we should give our dear neighbours something really naughty but also really good to gossip about, right?", answers Tae your concerns with a smug smirk on his lips and is about to pull his pants down.

God, this Boy just knows how to push your limits in the right way!

Jungkook

Jungkook can't imagine someone who could better fit to him than you. Your personality is amazing, you two share a lot of interests and hobbies and you're just so dirty minded and kinky behind closed bedroom doors like Kookie himself.

But he has to admit that there is something he would like to do but doesn't dare to mention it to you. You've made "not so good" experiences with it in your former relationship.

Jungkooks likes it to have Sex without a condom, likes the feeling of shooting his load right into you, marking your body with his cum. But well, the bastard of your ex-boyfriend really forced you to have raw sex with him when you wasn't ready for it.

You only have been on your pill since a short amount of time back then and you didn't felt really comfortable to have already sex without a condom as a second guaranty.

When you tried to explain your worries to him, he just got mad and accused you to not trusting him. Then he even blackmailed you that he would break up with you when you're still not consent with it.

When you told Jungkook what happened he promised to himself to not mention his kink too early in your relationship. Even when he knows that both of you are completely clean and that you're on birth control. Plus the fact, that you always make sure to take them very regulary, he doesn't want you to feel pressured to do something like that when you're not ready for it. Then he wouldn't be any better than your damn ex!

And now?

Now you're standing infront of Jungkook's bed, almost completely naked, just wearing plushy bunny ears and a tail butt plug. These ears reminds Kookie of the floppy ones of a dwarf ram rabbit. Gosh you look adorable and so, so sexy.

Jungkook can't believe what he's hearing when you open slightly stuttering your lips.

"T-Today is Easter and around this time of a year, bunnies are in m-mating season and I thought... you, as my buck, would like to breed me, your bunny, too...", you mumble and chew nervously on your lower lip.

Kookie is speechless, don't know what to say or where the heck you got the info that he likes raw sex. The corners of your mouth turns into a small cheeky smile.

"You should be more careful when you're on the phone with one of your hyungs and didn't want to get accidentally overheard... And w-when I'm honest, I actually like raw sex. Well, when I trust my partner enough and I trust you, Jungkook. I just wanted to be a good Easter bunny for my buck so bad... p-please mate me, Kook."

Oh, you didn't know until now, how good Kookie will breed his cutest bunnygirl. How wet he could make you with Dirty Talk about Breeding, about filling you up to the brim with his semen, shooting his cum again and again into your hole until it's szoozing out of you.

You'll love the way Jungkook makes you feel~