#his feelings for Tom are mixed with a lot of anger and resentment and I think that makes it tough for him

[thefiery-phoenix]

Hey, first off wanted to say I’m a huge fan of your work I’ve been reading ur work for a while and I’ve read your match ups, do you still do matchups for Harry Potter? If you are doing that here’s some info😭:

Looks: Indian, black wavy hair, 5’7, brown eyes with a hint of amber, unconventionally attractive face wise

Personality: very awkward and shy at first but later really loud and adventurous when u get to know me, sarcastic, sharp tounge, funny, smart, empathetic and sensitive, clueless and ditzy of what goes on around me, kind, ambitious

House: slytherin

Style: baggy clothes, streetwear,

Hobbies/pastimes: playing Roblox, reading books, tennis and skateboarding, listening to music,

Ps—>Ik this is a random match up but pleaseeee don’t match me up with Tom riddle I’ll take anyone with him, no offense to him but he’s scary especially since he’ll be Voldemort 💀

Yep, I'm still open for matchups and thank you for liking my work, I really appreciate your kind words a lot, I feel honored you take the time to read my nonsensical work lol. And don't worry, your plea has been answered, I ain't too fond of Moldy Voldy too lol. I'd ship you with...Oliver Wood

Oliver here as a yandere would be caring but not to mention incredibly possessive, clingy and EXTREMELY competitive and obsessive of you as well. He's actually humble about his talents and stuff but when you're around, he can't help but show off a bit for you since he does need to impress you after all. He hopes you fall in love with him after watching him play Quidditch. And he's as serious as making you only his no matter what, just like how he's serious about Quidditch 

You could be from a different house and be on the Quidditch team of another house but he just sees this as a way to prove himself to you that he's worthy of your love and affection, he's driven by you to win. It's like you're his source and ray of inspiration, a pillar of strength for him, always pushing him to do better and do his best. Of course, when he shows off too much around you the other members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team are ready to call him out on his behavior much to the amusement of everyone else there and to the embarrassment of Oliver. "Oh, Oliver, is that Y/N I see?" asked Fred in a sing song teasing voice and Oliver tried to quickly look around to where you were and when you flashed him a smile from the stands, he could swear on Merlin that his heart did a somersault 

The others started snickering after seeing Oliver's furious blush and who did he think he was fooling? No one was buying the 'I barely even noticed them' nonsense. "They look good don't they?" teased George and Oliver replied in a dreamy way with a small smile on his face "They look good every day... wait... what? HEY! Focus on the match, we need to beat Slytherin today at any cost no matter what!" he turned firm and strict again, making sure his team mates trained hard to beat Slytherin no matter what. His hatred for Slytherin didn't just stop at Quidditch, it just became more stronger when he saw Marcus Flint, the Slytherin's Quidditch team captain talking with you about something

He didn't know why as soon as he saw that sight he felt like either punching him in the face and sending him to the hospital wing or hexing him, a hex involving something about him not being able to use his mouth or tongue anymore to talk with you. He didn't know why he felt so bad, bitter and a mix and storm of emotions flurry inside him. Ranging from rage, anger to resentment and fear. The fear of losing you, for someone like him. No, he would not allow it. He would NEVER allow it, never in a million years, He can even lose in Quidditch, there's always a next time to win but he just can't afford to lose you under any circumstances

"Is he bothering you Y/N?' asked Oliver as he suddenly rushed to your side and distanced you from Flint. Flint scowled and you smiled and replied "No Oliver it's all right, he was just asking me about the homework we received from Potions by Professor Snape. I do have to admit, writing a 5000 word essay based on Potions all around the world and it's effects is quite difficult'' and Oliver immediately needed to get you away from Flint. He didn't like you spending time with him and besides, he could deal with him later on. "Would you like to watch me practice if it's not too much of a hassle? I really look forward to seeing you there'' and you smiled and told him you'd come with him saying bye to Flint 

It took him all his restraint not to punch Flint for flirting with you after the practice was done. He wasn't mad at you, of course not. He could never be mad at you, in his eyes you're literal perfection, the definition of a god/ goddess who could do no wrong. Even if you do end up doing something wrong at some point in your life, he will find a hundred different to justify your actions. He'll do his best to keep other guys away from you. Will he stalk you? Well, he prefers to call it 'looking out for you' after all, not everyone at Hogwarts is to be trusted like the Slytherin Quidditch team or Roger Davies for that matter, the irritating hindrance between you both 

Oliver is also very protective and a fussy yandere when it comes to you. He treats even the slightest of the scratches like a flesh wound by someone who stabbed you or something. If at all you do get hurt during Quidditch, he'll make you rest, he doesn't want you playing or doing anything when you're injured. He'll drop everything and rush to you, after making sure you're all right he'll carry you bridal style to the Hospital wing for a checkup by Madam Pomfrey just to make sure you aren't really injured. However if someone deliberately injures you, he isn't going to go easy on them. Not only will be make them suffer the humiliation of losing to him and his team at Quidditch, but he'll also break a few bones and send them packing to the Hospital wing, and a few hexes and jinxes won't really go amiss either 

If you keep getting injured or flirted with by people, he'll grow anxious for your safety and after feeling slightly insecure, he'll have to kidnap you to save you from all those scumbags. It's for your own good darling, just trust him he'll take care of everything for you

[sigurdjarlson]

I NEED Greg to call Tom, Nero next season. Not be melodramatic but I need it or I will die

(Can you imagine how Tom would fucking melt.)

[buckyownsmylife]

Albatross - Tom Hardy smut

The one where your bond is revealed when you become of age and present, but your mate is your father’s best friend.

Warnings: smut, p in v, oral sex (f) a/b/o dynamics, age difference, dirty talk, curse words

A/N: Here it is, folks! One of my favorite fics that I had planned for this kinktober. I love this concept so much that I think I might create a second version of it someday. For now, let me remind you that the prompts were a/b/o dynamics and age difference, but I made sure to keep the reader’s age open to interpretation so no one would feel uncomfortable. You can pretend that the presentation age in this universe is 18, 20, 21 or 25 - or whatever else! It’s really up to you.

Tom’s P.O.V.

I could feel that something was off from the second I woke up. Like the world that I’d woken up to wasn’t the same I’d left the night before. Like suddenly, everything had turned in their axis and I was left scrambling around to understand the change.

Still, I couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Call it a gut feeling. As a pack’s Alpha, I knew it was wise to trust mine. But without any clear evidence of something being out of place, all it left me with was this paranoid feeling of uncertainty.

That was, until news broke out of my Beta’s house, also known as my best friend.

“Y/N’s presenting,” he told me, a pained look on his face that I could perfectly understand. It shouldn’t be easy to lose an offspring, to see them grow up and become ready for the taking, but it was part of life, at least for us.

“What’s her status?” I asked, nodding patiently at him as I placed a firm hand over his shoulder, wanting to calm him down. He hesitated for a bit before answering.

“Omega.” I understood his hesitancy. Unmated omegas had a hard time even in packs, especially during heats, since Alphas couldn’t really control their instincts around them. At least, they needed that same connection, which could make the situation more acceptable, as it constituted at least some sort of consensual bond, but the fact of the matter was that omegas needed alphas to get through their heats, or they’d die, and a decision made in need wasn’t much of an actual decision in any sense.

Still, I was their Alpha and I knew I had to calm them down, so I did just so, the only way I could think of.

“I’m sure that when she gets over these first few days of fever, she’ll find her mate, Chris. Try not to worry too much about it. We have a lot of good, strong, eligible alphas in the pack, certainly one of them is her mate.” Of course, one of those alphas was me, but the possibility didn’t even cross my mind. She had just reached maturity, I was over forty and I’d seen her grow up. I was there the day she was born, I’d have noted if we had that sort of... special connection.

Of course, rationally, I knew it was possible. The truth was that the bond only made itself known after both parts present, but I still found it impossible to consider that a girl I had cradled in my arms right after her birth would be my mate. 

My friend nodded, thanking me for the support, and I watched him and his wife try to get through the day before they had to go back home and take care of their daughter. I commended myself for a job well done, hoping that now that the surprise had been clarified, that anxious feeling would disappear.

It didn’t. I could barely sleep that night, my senses in overdrive as I moved around in bed. It was like my body thought there was an upcoming battle and it was trying to prepare itself to deal with it. My heart was beating at a level that pumped the adrenaline coursing through my veins even faster, and by the time the sun rose up in the horizon, I had maybe taken a couple of naps. Actual rest had been absolutely impossible.

Still, until the danger that my instincts were catching onto actually appeared, there wasn’t much that I could do. There was, however, a lot that I had to do as pack leader, and so I tried to get on with my day as if nothing was wrong. I couldn’t very well leave my members worried over something that I didn’t even know what it was. So after I ate some breakfast, I left my cabin to get on with my day, starting of course with a visit to my best friend’s house. As my Beta, he would know what I should prioritize that day. 

Also, I figured it was the polite thing to do, check on Y/N and see if she was feeling better after her presentation. She was a part of my pack, after all. What I wasn’t expecting, however, was for her family to be gathered in the main hall, along with several other members, and that the moment I went through those doors, the only thing I could see was her. 

The smell of oranges and basil hit my nose, inebriating my senses, and I had to hold onto the threshold of the cabin’s door to steady myself. Of course, the lack of balance and the crackling noise the wood made as I broke some of the structure I was holding onto caught everyone’s attention, but no one seemed to understand what was going on with me.

Until Y/N whimpered, her eyes connected with mine as she visibly trembled where she stood. The second that sound escaped her lips I knew everyone had caught on to what was happening, especially her father. But at that very instant I lost every amount of self-control I had managed to gather through my years as a leader and I couldn’t care less about what Chris or anyone else was thinking. All I knew was there was my mate, she was still unmarked, and there were far too many alphas surrounding her.

I made my way over to her so fast I was almost sure I had jumped or ran. In the back of my mind I noticed that people stepped aside to let me make my way to her, but I was too far gone to actually process the information. All that mattered was her. I needed to get her out of here, and soon.

The closer I got to her, the stronger was her scent. I was growling by the time I pulled her to me and threw her over my shoulder. It was an animalistic gesture of ownership, but it was all my mind could come up with at that moment. I just needed to get her out of there. 

It was then that a particular smell hit my nose. Alpha. Turning around, I recognized her father through the haze I was currently under. It seemed like he was trying to calm me down, I could see from his lips’ motions that he was saying my name, but I couldn’t care less what he had to say to me at that moment. He was stopping me from claiming my mate. He was a threat to my bonding and I couldn’t have that.

The second I bared my teeth to him, however, he seemed to understand that there was no talking me out of what was happening. 

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I don’t know if it was Tom’s threat or my pained whimper that stopped my father from interfering, but I was glad to see his retreating form, mainly because it meant that I was one step closer to leaving this room and the god awful smells of random alphas that surrounded me.

It was so putrid that it burned, hurting my insides and making me hold my stomach in an effort to calm down the cramps that were threatening to kill me. A whimpered pain escaped my lips and suddenly Tom’s hands were around me, howling me up and throwing me over one of his shoulders.

The second his hands touched my sweaty skin, I let out a breathy sigh of relief, the close proximity to my Alpha instantly sufficing to calm me down, at least for now. I knew that for me to actually feel okay again, we’d have to complete the bonding.

A shiver went down my spine as the reality of my situation broke a bit of the fever I was currently under. I was about to be claimed by my Alpha, who also happened to be the pack’s Alpha. 

Not only that, but I was about to have sex for the first time, and with my father’s best friend, someone I’d known since I was a kid. Someone I used to consider sort of an uncle. At least that awkwardness from my part had disappeared as I approached my teenage years and started to realize just how attractive Tom was. It was no secret that the unmated Alpha was desired by many women - and some men - in the pack, including the teenage girls who’d follow him around with a love sick expression as soon as their hormones kicked in.

The only thing that stopped me from being one of those girls was the embarrassment over the fact that he was a constant presence on our family meals, always teasing me and making me laugh.

That was what I was thinking about when the world turned to its rightful place, Tom having gently lowered me to my feet again. Before I could even rationalize that I should probably snap out of it and fake a smile, his finger was under my chin, tipping my head up to look at him.

“What’s wrong?” A resigned sigh escaped my lips, knowing I would never be able to hide anything from him, not when he was my true mate and my Alpha. I guess I’d have to get used to this.

“It’s just… This is a bit weird, isn’t it?” I managed to explain, my heart pounding as I feared some sort of resentment or anger from him. Besides, I was also still wrestling with the overwhelming mix of emotions and hormones that tried to take over my body, wanting to make sure I’d never leave this cabin unmated.

But that wasn’t Tom. Even if he was scary from afar, and downright threatening and aggressive when needed, he was also gentle and caring towards his pack members, especially when they were vulnerable.

That was definitely my case now. Also, I was his mate - I had to keep reminding myself of that, it still didn’t feel real - and it was ludicrous of me to even consider that he would ever treat me as anything less than a princess. Even before, he’d always reserved that sort of treatment for me, his “little girl”, as he’d often call me.

So he mirrored my sigh, his arm reaching out to hold my hand in his, and I automatically gravitated closer to him, desperate to feel his warmth on my skin, to know that he was close to me. I knew it was biological, but it felt like something so much deeper. It felt like a calling from the soul.

“Yes, it is weird.” I don’t know why, but the second those words left his lips, I felt the tenseness from my body disappear, my muscles relaxing as he held me close to his chest in a very welcomed hug. Something about knowing that he felt the same way as I did calmed me down, made me feel like this was okay, somehow.

Neither of us knew what was going to happen, but we were going to find out together. We had each other now, and hopefully, forever.

Then, a new wave of cramps hit me, making me double over and startling Tom, who released me so I could hold my stomach, but then tried to reach out to me in whatever way he could find, desperate to know what was going on.

“The cramps…” I explained as best as I could, grabbing onto the front of his shirt in an effort to hold myself up. “... They’re starting again.” Once again, Tom’s strong hands were there to rescue me, and soon he had hoisted me up in a bridal position so he could carry me up the stairs, where his bedroom was located.

Tom’s P.O.V.

“Shhh… You’re gonna be okay, princess. You’re gonna get through this.” God, there wasn’t even a bond between us and I was already feeling her pain. I desperately wanted to help her, make it go away. I could feel the need to protect deep in my bones, trying to once again snap my control, but although I knew what was the only thing that could help her, I still needed her to be okay with this first.

“Tom… Tom, please, help me.” I pushed strands of her hair away from her sweaty face, and she whimpered underneath me, sweat already starting to make her skin glisten underneath my fingertips. I ached to lick it, taste her on the tip of my tongue, but I didn’t feel like I could do it. Not yet.

“Tell me what you need,” I pressed, cradling her face between my palms. “Tell me how I can help.”

“You,” she breathed out, and I could see the desperation in her beautiful eyes. It hurt my chest, and once again the Alpha inside of me tried to claw its way to the front of my brain. “I need you to kiss me. Please, kiss me.”

She really didn’t have to say twice. I was dying to taste her lips since I saw her that morning. So I leaned over her, bringing her to meet me halfway by my grip on her jaw, and the second that our lips touched, I was a goner.

So soft, she was just so soft. Her mouth danced with mine and it felt like velvet against my chapped lips and the way she moaned when I licked on her bottom lip, prying it open, made a deep, possessive growl escape from deep within my chest.

“You smell so good.” I barely recognized my own voice as it came raspier than usual when I forced ourselves to separate so she could catch her breath. I’d happily suffocate if it meant I could keep on kissing her, but it was my job to make sure she would be okay.

I rubbed my nose over her shoulder, looking for the scent gland on her neck and nuzzling it upon my discovery. God, even if I wasn’t on my rut yet, this felt overwhelming, in the best possible way. But I could feel the need to mate rising from within me, and I couldn’t let it take over yet.

It didn’t seem like Y/N was all that opposed to my carnal needs, however, if the way she climbed on my lap to pull me back to her lips by the back of my neck was anything to go by. I still had it in me to chuckle against her mouth, amused by her eagerness, but that was only before she started to rub herself against me, whimpering desperately as she clawed at my shirt.

“Hot… It’s so hot in here. I need to -” I was still so dumbfounded over her last actions that it didn’t strike me what she was about to do until her dress was already on the floor, and I was staring at the practically naked young woman on my lap.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Heat, it was all I felt besides the overwhelming emptiness that made my pussy clench sporadically around nothing. By that point, I couldn’t think of anything else. The pain had been replaced by this burning desire for the man in front of me, but it was burning so brightly that it was threatening to start hurting me, too.

“Knot…” I managed to say, despite my usual embarrassment to say that word, or the next phrase that so easily fell from my lips. “I need your knot.” Tom suddenly tightened his grip on my waist, and I whimpered from the pressure, but also relished in it. I knew there’d be marks, and just the thought of them made the wetness that was already gathering in my pussy start to drip onto my panties.

“Fuck, I can fuckin’ smell you, princess. You’re fucking dripping for me, aren’t you?” I could only whine in response. Tom took me off his waist, but before I could complain, he laid me down on his bed, crawling over me. “I need to prepare you, little one. I know it’s your first time, and even if you’re in heat right now and I’m your mate, I don’t want you suffering, okay?”

Whereas normally I would have melted at his preoccupation, the idea of his preparation only registered in my brain as a delay from my goal, that was to be filled with his cock, so I wailed while he worked on taking off my bra. 

“Why is this so fucking hard?” He complained, the strap escaping from his fingers as he couldn’t seem to have the patience to actually do it properly. “Fuck this shit.” A gasp resonated around the room as he ripped the lace tissue from my chest, but then he was growling and latching himself on one of my nipples, licking and sucking and it made the burn between my legs worsen.

“Please, Alpha, please!” I don’t think he would have been able to separate himself from my breasts if I hadn’t called his presentation. Since it was the first time he was hearing it, though, his head whipped up, and he looked directly at me, seemingly astounded by that simple word.

“Please…” I whispered again, and that snapped him out of his reverie, making him deposit wet kisses all over my stomach as I thrashed around the bed, trying to force him down faster. 

“I’ll take care of you, omega.” My panties, the last piece of clothing left on me, met the same fate as my bra, and then I was naked, spread open for Tom’s eyes to explore me. He licked his lips hungrily, noting, “You’re soaked already,” right as he lowered himself to deposit a kiss over my navel.

“J-just one of the reasons w-why y-you don’t have to do this,” I tried to reason with him, knowing that he had the best of intentions, but I needed his freaking knot sooner rather than later.

“Have to? I’m dying to taste your glistening little pussy. It’s calling out to me, angel.” That was the only warning I got before his mouth descended upon me, engulfing my whole pussy like it was nothing more than an open buffet for him to satiate his primal hunger.

Tom’s P.O.V.

I’d never tasted anything like her pussy before. Immediately, I knew that I’d be spending a lot of my following evenings with my head between her gorgeous legs, licking away at her little clit, and fucking her hole with my tongue.

“You taste like fucking candy,” I growled against her cunt, appreciating the downright filthy sounds that my slurping was creating against her wetness. Pushing my tongue as far as it could reach inside of her hole, I noticed how it pulsed against me, and I couldn’t wait to feel it around my cock.

But first… “I have to prepare you,” I said it out loud, to remind both her and me that nothing else was happening before I could get through this task. Normally, I wouldn’t consider it a hazard at all, I loved making a woman cry out with pleasure underneath me - and this was my mate, not just any woman - but I knew she needed to have me inside of her soon, and quite frankly, I didn’t know how much longer I could hold myself back either.

I pushed one finger inside of her as I continued to suck on her clit, immediately pushing another as she was already really wet and her pussy stretched easily to welcome any sort of thickness inside of it, since she was on her heat. Pretty soon I was able to put a third one, and I pulled away from her pussy just enough to watch my digits going in and out of her.

“Now, that’s fucking hot.” Her thighs trembled on each side of me and her moans became more high-pitched, and I understood that she was about to cum, so I lowered myself to lick her again and that was when she tumbled over the edge, crying out my name and my presentation consecutively, her legs wrapping themselves around my head to keep me where I was.

As soon as the waves crashed down and I was able to detach myself from her, though, it became clear that it hadn’t been enough. She needed me, and now I felt like I could finally give what she needed to her.

“You ready, princess?” I made sure of it as I rushed to open my jeans and get my cock out, groaning as the feeling of my fist around it was enough to make it throb. It’d been hard and ready and pulsing ever since I saw my mate.

“Yes, please, please, Alpha!” With another animalistic growl, I slowly pushed myself inside of her, only stopping when I bottomed out. I wanted to wait until she was ready, I knew she’d be much more receptive to the penetration thanks to her state, but I guessed it would still feel uncomfortable on some level.

Apparently, I was wrong.

“Fuck me, please, Tom, MOVE!” At that last request, I fully let myself go, allowing the Alpha to take over and claim his mate like he needed it to. I slipped out of her before easily manhandling her on her stomach, barking at her to present for her Alpha, and the second her pretty little pussy was thrusted up against me again, I pushed in and started pounding her.

“Fuck, little one, look at you… Taking your first cock so well. Your mate’s cock, angel. You won’t ever get to know how another feels like, will you? Because you’re mine. I’ve waited so long for a mate, for you, and you’re here now. You’re all mine, ‘mega.”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I cried out both at his words and at the pressure I felt as his cock’s head speared against my cervix. It hurt, but it hurt so good, there were literal tears falling from my eyes on the mattress underneath me.

“Yours, I’m all yours,” I managed to gasp, and it spurred him on. I couldn’t even identify when he thrusted out of me, I felt so full and the emptiness was fulfilled and all I wanted was to keep this high forever.

“Tell me that again,” he ordered, making me whine as his hips kept pounding against my ass, the slaps echoing around the room.

“I’m yours, Alpha. Please, don’t stop!”

“‘m not gonna stop, I’m never gonna stop fucking you.” With a howl, I felt his knot pop open inside of me, prompting my release just as he pulled me up to carve his teeth on my neck. He kept slowly grinding against me, like he couldn’t get enough, and it made me laugh but also moan in satisfaction as he started to lick over his mark on my skin.

“Mine,” he whispered afterwards, when he managed to adjust us so we were both spooning on his bed, his knot still keeping us connected and bringing me a comfortable feeling of belonging I’d never felt before.

“Yours,” I repeated, caressing the hand with which he groped one of my breasts. “All yours, Alpha. You’re not alone anymore.”

[kneamet]

Jaguar! Tom forces reader to dance naked in front of him (punishment for trying to escape).

Trigger Warning: obsession, yandere

Word Count: 1902

Character: Jaguar!Tom/reader

Summary: the punishments are always severe. And Thomas was not a man capable of empathy.

POV Your

You didn't know how to feel about him. He attracted you, his appearance was really sympathetic to you, but his actions, actions and character were never the factor that deserved attention. Thomas's qualities were disgusting.

He was terrible.

You couldn't think of any other words.

His behavior towards you was never what you wanted. Romance, friendliness and pure love-this was exactly what you dreamed of in a relationship. However, this has never happened with Thomas.

Infused with anger, jealousy, control and possessiveness, love was the most terrible thing that happened to you. It wasn't love, it was obsession. And it was a huge upset in your life.

You never wanted to experience what you experienced when you were in a relationship with Thomas, knowing that he did not allow you to take a step without his supervision and permission.

And that scared you.

It caused you to feel an irresistible discomfort, mixed with hatred and fear that permeated you every time a man looked at you. He looked attentively, piercingly. As if he wanted not to warm, but to intimidate.

You knew about his love of control, which was also reflected in his relationship to his surroundings, with whom he disposed as if they were just meat, unable to think. They were obedient and it scared you. It forced you to obey him.

You were driven only by fear.

And nothing more.

Always closing your eyes, you tried just not to think about it. However, after a while, after you and Thomas became a full-fledged inseparable couple, you realized that it was better to start taking off rose-colored glasses. They were a good protection from the poverty and political troubles in the world around you, but you knew that you could not stay in them for the rest of your life.

You couldn't deny the fact that Thomas was misleading many people, making them feel fear and the need to end the conversation as soon as possible.

It was disgusting for you to call such a person your husband. He was not and will not be anyone else. All the words spoken at the altar, on the wedding day, when the rose-colored glasses were just beginning to disintegrate, turning into dust, will be forgotten. And Thomas has to accept it. He has to let you go, no matter what it costs you.

You always wanted to escape from this suffocating abusive captivity that held you tightly, not allowing you to fly up with your wings and take a calm, full of freedom, breath.

Your hands are shaking.

Your gaze is changeable when you look at your husband sitting on the chair that you bought together for your anniversary of the first acquaintance. It was elegant, even if it didn't quite fit with your concept of beauty.

Thomas crossed one leg over the other. His posture was relaxed, but his hands were tightly clenched into fists. It was a sign of resentment, which you managed to learn during all the time that you live with him.

He was looking at you, putting his hand on his chin, thoughtfully stroking his thoroughly vibrating chin. He's always been like this for as long as you can remember. Thomas never allowed himself to go to extremes, keeping all the bodies completely normal.

"And what should I do with you?" His voice sounded unexpected. You felt as if you were pierced by a thousand needles when he at least begged for something during those few minutes of your silence with him.

You were standing in front of him, with your head downcast and refusing to meet his eyes. It was scary. My heart was pounding loudly in my head. There was nothing but the verdict you were waiting for.

You knew that running away was a failed idea. Trying to do at least something that would contradict the will of Thomas — that's a really failed idea. He did not tolerate disobedience. Especially from close people.

Your lower lip trembled. My eyes were not watering, but there was still a feeling of fear. Primal fear, at the moment of which I wanted to destroy, but at the same time I was unaware of my actions committed a couple of minutes ago.

But with Thomas, as such, the feeling of fear turned into something inexplicable — his whole body began to burn as if a kettle of boiling water had been poured on him, starting to sweat rudely; his hands were shaking and it became scary to look at him. There was a feeling that he could kill you without blinking an eye.

And without sympathy.

"Get undressed," Thomas said, turning his head in your direction and, without getting up, nodded to you at the red dress that you were wearing and that he forced you to put on. You swallowed. His eyes filled with despair.

It was an order.

I didn't want to contradict him. Not because there was no desire, but because you were afraid. She was afraid of him as a modest mouse is afraid of an evil cat.

Your breathing has become erratic. Something prickled in my chest. My body went numb. It didn't want to listen to you.

Wanted to cry.

"My doll," his voice was unctuous. Thomas gets up from his chair, walks slowly towards you, as if he is a tiger hunting a prey. His fingers touch your tender and rough chin, forcing you to lift your head up and look at him.

He loved eye contact. He knew how to scare a person.

"Get undressed," he said, still staying nearby, tilting his head to the right and burning you with an all-powerful look.

Your jaw of Islam is trembling. It became even more uncomfortable. Your hands went to the back of the dress, forcing you to pull down the zipper and let it open.

Your forehead is sweating.

Touching the sleeves, you pulled the dress towards the chest and pulled it down, stepping over it and leaving it on the clean floor, washed not so long ago by Thomas ' personal cleaner.

"Go on," he nodded, folding his arms over his chest. Your lower lip trembled.

Eyes began to water.

***

POV Thomas

His eyes were burning. Watching his beloved wife cope with her clothes, suppressing the tears that wanted to escape from her, and entertaining him, trying to please, was a pleasure for Thomas. It was just indescribably exciting.

He could really get aroused from any look from her. Yes, even your presence always excited in him unusual and unusual feelings, which he tried to suppress with pain most of the time in society-joy, love and excitement.

Thomas did not build anything to show himself in public as cruel, cold, not considering more than one girl as an option to have sex at night, because they were not interesting to him.

He had never been interested in girls. And the guys, what can I hide there. He didn't care. He was such a person who wanted to achieve something for the sake of his goal, despite the conditions. He will do anything for himself.

And what was his surprise when he first met you. You were exactly the person who prompted those feelings in Thomas that he did not show to anyone, allowing at least one person to open up.

He knew that it would not be easy for the girls with him. The constant need for control, possessiveness, which he considered just protection, and work that requires a lot of sacrifices. It was difficult to build his criminal empire from scratch, but he succeeded.

Thomas was watching you.

And unfortunately, you didn't know about it.

He tried to show his love in every possible way. He tried to write love letters, but realizing that nothing was working out for him anyway, he abandoned this case. He tried to do at least something, but jealousy has always been a power over his mind, completely blurring the boundaries of understanding between bad and good. If they existed at all.

Jealousy forced Thomas to do unthinkable things.

He didn't like to kill himself. However, the moments when people who went on dates with his doll were immediately found dead in their home were only an emotional vice, when he wanted to tear and throw, just to hurt those who dared to touch you not by right.

Thomas was hard to anger. However, the disobedience on the part of the beloved was rather a chagrin. He did everything for her! And she just wipes her feet on his feelings, as if they don't exist. And after that, does she even dare to say that she loves him?

He didn't care that she was trying to escape.

After all, he knew that she could not.

The fenced-in house, standing alone far from London, with its garden and its helicopter pad, was simply an impregnable fortress. So the mileage thing would not have worked. The guards immediately caught her.

Thomas gave you his hungry look again, seeing how uncomfortable it is for you to stand naked in front of him. The underwear was thrown to the side, to the dress. He shook his head in disbelief, looking down at the dirty floor. What does he pay the cleaning lady for anyway?

He was puzzled by the fact that she was afraid of him. More precisely, he understood the fact that she was feeling, but some moments still frightened him, putting him into a stupor. Why was she afraid to stand naked in front of him?

But there was only a sexual experience.

Thomas knew that his workers in the house knew about his unusual preferences related to the topic of sex. And they stopped being perplexed by the fact that sometimes, when he absolutely did not want to please himself, he called an escort.

What a sin to hide, when she learned about his love for sadism, she immediately ran away.

And he didn't even have time to have fun. He thought after all that she would be pleased and that prostitutes are taught this. It turned out that this is not the case in a significant way.

He grinned, turning his gaze back to his favorite doll, which looked very uncomfortable. He saw you looking around, as if afraid of the fact that someone might come in. As if they would dare.

"Take your hands off," Thomas said, turning his attention back to you, realizing how unpleasant this discomfort is for you. However, you knew about his love for such a thing.

Bad girls are punished.

And you should have accepted it a long time ago. Thomas's character was not easy and he always got an incredible buzz when you try to please him.

He came closer to you, just dreaming of touching your body. He knew that now you will be anything for him, because you are afraid for your life. So you are also afraid of punishments.

Thomas touched your bare shoulder, running his hand over it and seeing how your body shuddered. This inspired him with an incredible sense of pride, even apart from the fact that his beloved doll is afraid of him.

He leaned into your ear.

"This is your punishment, doll," his voice was quiet. He touched your hand, grabbing it. The other hand rested on the waist. "We'll dance.""

He liked to enjoy your primal fear.

[jencsi]

Let’s Talk- Finn and Russell;

From the very beginning, we get the hint, notion, presence of a deeper connection between Julie Finlay and DB Russell. In Seeing Red, when she hears him, not even having to look and know he’s there during the crime scene reconstruction, just his voice alone makes her roll her eyes, gets her fired up with some sort of passion, anger, emotional reaction. As evidenced from their conversation about the blood spatter case, her resistance to proceed further with him again shows she is not quite over what has happened to them in the past and it makes viewers want to know, what the heck happened? What could this seemingly unbothered hippie like guy have ever done to cross this already sullen yet spirited woman? Despite her futile attempts to deflect him, she cannot help but be drawn to the case, he sought her out after all, he must be desperate. When she retrieves the file he leaves behind and it piques her interest, she gives in, with probably a lot of hemming and hawing off screen, before venturing to CSI for the first time.

That single solitary scene cemented in my brain their dynamic from that day forward. There was no going back for me. Whatever they had in the past, whether that be something romantic, friendly or just work related, my soul ached to know more and even better, my heart yearned to watch them more, to listen, to observe the bantar, the sarcasm, the snark, the sheer and utter pure honesty that comes from their conversations. DB Russell is not trying to trick Finn, he’s not trying to make her figure out some silly puzzle or game, he just wants her expertise and guidance. Once she accepts his offer, her personality begins to shine via her work (Should I wrap it up and take it back to the lab? Took the words right out of my mouth smart ass” “You know me so well” “And you know blood, better than anyone I know”) her bonding with her colleagues, and even better, the little hints at what was between her and Russell back in Seattle.

When we finally do get to see that past revealed, ripped open like a fresh wound, via CSI on Fire, we see the headstrong and overheated Finn on a mission, prove that Tom Cooley is a killer and bring justice to the families of his victims. Of course that journey is not without complications and wild accusations, of course Finn would never kill anyone, that I firmly believe, unless of course it’s to save a friend or colleague (saving Greg from that supposed innocent victim of the Gig Harbor Killer in The Twin Paradox) but Cooley rattles her, gets under her skin in a way different from Russell. In fact it’s Russell warning her to be careful, to go with caution, but her typical rebellious nature of “I’m not listening” pushes her further to the truth and to danger at every turn.

Her tone when speaking to Russell about the discovery of Cooley’s body in his hotel shifts our thinking that maybe she isn’t the same person she was two years ago. If what we are observing right now is the casual cool collected Finn, just how reckless was she in Seattle? She feels the disappointment from Russell in his tone, the way he looks at her, and she hates that, she doesn’t want to disappoint anyone, especially him. His presence in her life since the Seattle days has created this combination of not wanting to let him down or disappoint him mixed with her fierce loyalty to the truth, to the victims and their families, clashing with her exuberant personality.

With CSI on Fire resolved, Finn melts back into a rhythm with her ex-husband, also a component of her former life in Seattle, all seems right between Russell and her, a trademark of their friendship, forgiveness and acceptance.

Looking at their dynamic from the perspective of the actors who portray them, Ted Danson has referred to them as the bickersons, like oil and water, but at the same time, Finn/Elisabeth and her characters intrusiveness helps him do his job better and see things clearly when it comes to cases as well as other aspects of his characters life. Elisabeth meanwhile seemed to enjoy the back and forth dialogue and the testiness of their relationship, she seemed invested in their past in Seattle and wondered where the writers would take that.

In Homecoming, the season 12 finale, we see corruption and problems arise amongst the police force and Russell apologies for seeming to drag Finn into this mess and bringing her there to work but she states that she makes her own decisions and doesn’t seem bothered by the issues until she is thrown into the chaos of it all when she trails Crenshaw and stumbles into the violence they have created around them with the assistance of McKeen and Kimball.

The Finn and Russell dynamic gets tested here when Katie, Russell’s grand daughter is kidnapped and Finn attempts to save her. In the chaos, she sends Katie out into the unknown alone while she does battle with Crenshaw (a violent but epic struggle, major kudos to the stunt work they did here, it felt so real and made me love Finn even more, seeing how far Elisabeth was willing to take this character) Russell is devastated to learn Finn let Katie escape alone but is also distraught knowing both were hurt and in danger. His anger at Finn boils over when she insists she’s fine, how he refers to her as “Finn” on the phone instead of the sweeter Jules we are used to hearing, and when she discusses the case with him in the bedroom where Katie was taken from and he punched the wall, leading to a missed clue. Despite the resentment towards her, they figure out Katie’s whereabouts and stop McKeen from carrying out his plans. We can see and feel Finn’s guilt deep down for her mistakes, even if everything works out, the way she stands holding the phone, the way she looks at Moreno who tries to assure her it will be okay.

At the end of Karma To Burn, Finn and Russell reconcile again, not so much with words but in the way she snaps him out of his fantasy of ever having to use his gun in a real life situation, of how far he was almost pushed to the brink when it comes to saving his work family, not just Katie. His use of the nickname Jules on several occasions, something she claims to hate but also doesn’t, comes back when Barbara inquires if she will stay for dinner. All is well again.

The final blow and perhaps the deepest cut of their relationship occurs with the reopening of the Gig Harbor Killer case. From the get go, we start off with a bang, literally and figuratively. It is Russell who is at the mercy of Winthrop who demands he admit they did not capture the correct killer in order to relinquish Finn from the confines of her bomb invested car. With much reluctance, he admits their mistake and Finn is spared. The hug they share in the parking lot after she is freed breaks me every time and just further adds to the complicated but always present nature of their relationship. The next go around, Maya, Russell’s daughter is targeted, but this time, she is used as bait to try and lure the copycat out to play and be captured. When that fails, Finn unwillingly becomes the next target and once again Russell is thrown for a loop. This time however, there is no mercy, no chance at redemption, Finn is ripped from him violently and with no regard. Worse still, we get to see a tiny bit of his life afterwards, via CSI Cyber, when he observes another coma patient in Hack ER. Avery Ryan takes notice of his demeanor and quietly brings up Finn. Russell’s memories play out in quick flashbacks and we see where his heart belonged the entire time. He speaks of reading to her, hoping she’d wake up, then darkness, never to see her eyes pierce him again, no more bantar, no more snark, no more intrusiveness. The fact that almost a whole year later we get a resolution for Finn and get to see Russell pine for her one last time gives us closure and really showcases how strong this bond was for three and a half years.

I will always wish for a better outcome for Finn, as originally scripted, but somewhere in the chaos of writing and producing, we lost her. I will always be sad we didn’t get to see more of Russell at her bedside waiting for her to wake up. That emotion would have been so raw and real coming from Ted. These characters deserved a proper ending and reunification because it just wasn’t justified to wreck their metaphorical ship that was so strong and sailing along fine before colliding with the iceberg of violence. Nevertheless, this dynamic holds strong in my heart to this day. There are plenty more examples to pull from the show, every time they chatted about cases and made progress just by talking it out, every time they fought about their thought processes and reckless behavior, every soft sweet utterance of “Jules” will forever gut me, weaken me, bring me to my knees, but somehow give me strength. That’s how powerful their relationship was and appeared to me on screen, they were a paradox, love, hate, push, pull, oil and water as Ted stated before, give and take, and boy did they give me so much more than any naysayer could ever attempt to take from me. No matter where anyone stands on the fandom line, so much heart and soul went into Russell and Finn, and when you really sit down and watch and listen with perspective and acceptance, you can see it and feel it. I think that type of power transcends just your typical acting alone, it truly feels real. Give me that dynamic everyday, sign me up. I don’t think I’ll ever be as lucky as I was to witness such greatness on the screen between these two. Good things don’t happen twice, as I have unfortunately learned the hard way over the years, once it’s gone, it’s gone.

But in the heart and soul of Russell and Finn is an incredible ability to keep a stronghold on viewers like me, or maybe not, maybe I’m just crazy, but here were are, years after things have ended and the screen has faded to black.

[busterkeatonfanfic]

Chapter 29, Part I

Buster had hoped that the picture would progress more smoothly back in Culver City. New York had been recreated on Lot Two in no time and was ready for filming by the time he returned to M-G-M on Monday the 30th. He was finding that even without the onerous script, however, he just couldn’t go back to the way he’d done things a few short months before.

When arrived on the set, he hadn’t wanted to get into the scenes of him and the girl right away. Instead, he pulled Bruckman aside and chewed over ways to lead the audience into the story, break the ice a little. Maybe a fussy grande dame carrying too much weight wanted a portrait of her little boy. Buster could see them in his head, the fat lady brushing the shoulders of the kid’s jacket, posing him just so. When she wasn’t looking, the scoundrel would stick out his tongue or thumb his nose. In the meantime, he—that is to say, the photographer—would be growing more and more frustrated with the boy. After being scolded by the lady, who wouldn’t hear that her perfect angel was monkeying around, he would finally take the portrait and show her the result. Upset, she’d blame the kid’s behavior on him. The conversation would get heated, drawing the attention of a drunk panhandler who would ask for his portrait to be done too. After all, his cup was full of pennies, wasn’t it? He could afford it. The lady would object. No, her boy was first in line. There’d be a yelling match between the two, the finely dressed fat woman and the ragged skinny drunk, followed by some shoving, in which Buster became collateral damage when the drunk ducked a punch. The hullabaloo would attract a crowd, and finally a policeman (giving Buster a suspicious look as though he was the cause of it all) would disperse the crowd. Buster would be left on the sidewalk, unpaid for his portrait of the kid and worse off than when he started.

This idea having occurred, he’d called to the crew to get him a fat lady, a kid, and someone who could play a drunk. They just looked at him like he had three heads.

“What’s the big idea?” he’d said.

“C’mere, I wanna word,” Sedgwick had said, frowning over the cigarette between his lips.

They’d gone around the corner until they were out of earshot, then the older man rounded on him. “What in the fuck was that?”

“What in the fuck was what?” said Buster, genuinely baffled.

“All the business of ‘Get me this, I want that.’ You made me look like a damned ass in front of my men.”

“How?” said Buster, astonished.

“By undermining my authority, that’s how. I’m the director. You barking orders makes me look like a spare prick.”

Buster had tried not to gape. He felt his own anger begin to rise. Wanting to keep the peace, though, he’d swallowed and said, “Well, I’m awful sorry. It’s nothing personal, honest, I just never worked another way. It won’t happen again, alright? You have my word.”

Sedgwick’s shoulders had relaxed somewhat and his expression softened. “Thanks. Look, I know it’s got to be tough to adjust, but we do things different. Just watch. You’ll see it’ll get taken care of.”

The scene didn’t get taken care of, despite Sedgwick’s assurances. Buster had stood back chain-smoking and watching calamity unfold. The kid was uncooperative, too green to be anything other than nervous in front of the camera. The fat lady couldn’t seem to understand that the camera couldn’t see the kid when she stood in front of him in all her overproportioned glory. The drunk couldn’t take direction at all, to the point that Buster suspected the drunkness wasn’t an act.

Finally, Sedgwick had thrown up his hands. “This is a disaster. Buster, line these god damn people up and get this fucking shot over with.”

Buster stubbed his cigarette out. “Me?”

Sedgwick had looked pained. “Yes, you. Who else?”

Feeling satisfied inside, Buster had taken over and soon had all parties in line and the scene rolling right along. In the days following, Sedgwick didn’t try to interfere with him and he didn’t try to interfere with Sedgwick, and they grew to like each other. A large man, he had a big appetite and liked to come over to Buster’s half of the bungalow to eat an elaborate lunch cooked up by Caruthers rather than patronize the studio cantine. Buster dubbed him Junior.

Even though Weingarten was up his ass about something every other day, shooting was going alright, too. Maybe it wasn’t the way he was used to working, but at least he’d gotten three-quarters of his control back and could dispense with things like jewel thieves and kidnappings.

As April gave way to May that week, he stayed overnight at the bungalow. On Wednesday he managed to sneak Nelly in. They had to forgo their usual activities beneath the sheets owing to her monthly visitor, but they had a nice dinner of roast lamb and potatoes and tried a few foxtrots in the front room, bumping into furniture because was hardly any room, then Nelly practiced her lines while he smoked and perused the latest pile of newspapers and magazines that Caruthers had left.

On Friday night, he drove back to the Villa. He arrived just in time for dinner, catching Natalie as she passed through the atrium.

“Hello, Nate,” he said. He’d just hung his coat and hat and kicked off his shoes.

“Oh, you’re back in time for dinner,” she said without a smile. He could tell by the way she said it that it was a question in disguise: Why haven’t you been home for dinner?

“Well sure, it’s Friday night. Ain’t filming tomorrow. I’m staying at the bungalow while we’re filming,” he added.  “Toldja that.”

“You didn’t,” she said, unsmiling. “You didn’t say you were staying at the bungalow this week.”

He considered his wife’s unhappy countenance and tried to remember if he’d called her on Monday. He’d had dinner with Sedgwick, then there was a bridge game and drinks with some of the M-G-M brass. Sam Goldwyn had been there. Or had that been Tuesday night? He couldn’t remember, and couldn’t remember calling her. “I thought I did. Honest. I got caught up in stuff, I guess,” he said.

“Oh, your card games?” she said, hand on her hip. She looked beautiful, all polish, poise, and elegance. “Maybe with that girl from your picture? Marceline?”

His eyes widened. “Marceline? You mean Marceline Day?” He knew he ought to be used to Natalie’s jealousy by now, but sometimes it flew at him out of the blue and smacked him straight in the face like that baseball last July. He’d hardly filmed a single scene with his newest leading lady, let alone entertained thoughts of seducing her.

“I simply find it incredible you’d forget to call me over a card game.”

“Well, it’s true whether you believe it and I said I’m sorry.” He reached for her arm. “C’mon, let’s not fight about silly stuff.”

“Oh, I agree it’s silly alright,” she said, brushing off his hand. “I didn’t make it so, you did.”

“Nate,” he said. “The kids. C’mon, they’re in the other room for Christ’s sakes.” In an attempt to extinguish the argument, he grabbed her by the shoulders and kissed both her cheeks in quick succession. “Please? You’ve got me tomorrow and Sunday. I’ll spend all that time with you. I’m all yours.”

Natalie grimaced. “I’m leaving tomorrow afternoon for Lake Tahoe. With Norma. Don’t tell me you forgot that too.”

“Of course I didn’t,” he lied. He had no recollection of her telling him about Lake Tahoe, though supposed it had been discussed in New York when he was listening with half an ear. “Let’s make the most of tonight then, and tomorrow morning.”

“We’re having veal for dinner,” she said, ignoring his offer.

“Good. I’m hungry.”

It wasn’t much of a truce, but he treated it like one and put his arm through hers and walked her to the dining room.

Natalie went to bed early that night complaining of a headache and was too preoccupied the next day buying new outfits for her trip with Norma to trouble with him. “I’m sorry, but it’s supposed to be warm and we’ve got to have some lighter dresses for the trip,” she’d said just before departing.

He tried to distract himself golfing with Tom Mix, but kept getting stuck on thoughts of his wife like a skip in a record. There had been a time when Nate had loved him and they’d gotten along, he could almost swear by it. He’d once spent hours with her mother and sisters, not resenting them for taking up Natalie’s time and attention. Rather, he had been glad to be in their midst even though Peg had never made a secret of the fact that she didn’t think him good enough for her middle daughter. It had been easy then to love the people who loved Natalie.

There had also been a time when Nate and him had talked about more than the children, kissed in more than a perfunctory way, and shared more than just a house and money. To this day he couldn’t understand why it wasn’t that way between them anymore, couldn’t remember when they’d begun to drift apart. He was pretty sure she had still loved him when they’d moved into the Villa. When had she stopped? Why had she stopped?

Tom would bring him back to reality at intervals, reminding him that it was his turn to put. He’d forget about Natalie for a couple minutes, but the needle would return to the beginning of the groove and he’d start worrying all over again. If only if he just—maybe if he just …

That night, he got roaringly drunk at Marion Davies’ party, not bothering to see Natalie off at the train station when she left late in the afternoon.

The Villa was vacant the following day, his sons having been kidnapped by Constance and all the servants but Caruthers dismissed until Monday. Their benevolent mistress had decided they could do with a little holiday as a treat. Tired of fretting about Natalie, he drank some black coffee to tame his headache and called Nelly afterward.

Note: I know you’re all sick of waiting, so I decided to publish Chapter 29 into two parts. The second part will likely be longer. Sorry I’m so busy, but 🤷‍♀️

[marauders70s]

a collection of dumb hp-p&r text memes

dumbledore, gesturing: could a depressed person make this???

mcgonagall: your hand is literally rotting off

---

harry: sometimes I feel like arguing with you is like arguing with the sun.

hermione: WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT I AM SUPER CHILL ALL THE TIME.

---

pansy: you look awful

draco: what up bitch i just ran a 5k

pansy: really?

draco: no i threw up blood in the shower

pansy: that fight with potter really got ya down huh

---

harry: hey ron are you okay

ron, wearing the locket, staring straight ahead at a tree: yeah i'm fine it's just that life is pointless and nothing matters and I'm always tired.

harry: hermione it's your turn

---

sirius, at any minor convenience: everything hurts and i'm dying

---

goyle: I once knew a guy for seven years and never learned his name. best friend i ever had. we still never talk sometimes, because he's dead.

---

oliver: sometimes you gotta do a little work so you can ball a lot.

mcgonagall: that is incorrect

---

james, during house arrest: If I keep my body moving, and my mind occupied at all times, I will avoid falling into a bottomless pit of despair.

lily, from the couch: oops

---

snape, at a christmas dinner: I can still smell her hair at night

dumbledore, pouring a generous amount of mulled wine: Put some alcohol in your mouth to block the words from coming out.

---

ron: hermione, i'm not using your color coded talking planner

hermione: we need to get good grades on our OWLs!

ron: there's nothing that could motivate me to use it

hermione: well, there's nothing we can't do if we work work hard, never sleep, and shirk from all other responsibilities in our lives.

---

harry: Professor, I wanna go home early. Ooh, hold on actually, hang on. Yeah, no, I wanna quit and never come here again.

---

ron: i'm going to tell you all my secrets

hermione: you don't have to do that

ron: I once forgot to brush my teeth for five weeks

ron: I didn't actually break charlie's wand all the way I just hid it and forgot where

ron: I don't know who scrimgeour is and at this point I'm too afraid to ask.

ron: when they have 2 sickles a scoop on salamander eyes i'm not sure where the rest of the salamander goes

ron: when i was a baby fred turned my teddy into a spider and i got so scared my mum took me to a mindhealer and they wrote a textbook about me

ron: i once threw a garden gnome so hard that it hit my sister in the face and began attacking her

hermione, looking up from her book: what did ginny do?

ron: she bit it and it ran off.

hermione: classic

---

severus: no matter what i do nothing bad can happen to me. i'm like a white wizengamot official who pretended they were mind-controlled after the fall of the dark lord

lucius: I resent that

---

sirius: thank merlin my great uncle alphard just died so I am fluuuuusheeeeeed with galleeeeooonsss

remus: I'm going to regret this flatshare

---

seamus: i passed up a gay halloween party to see this troll. Do you know how much fun gay Halloween parties are? Last year I saw three Peverell Brothers make out with three Viktor Krums. It was amazing.

---

luna: We need to remember what's important in life. Friends, unpredictable creatures, and school. Or unpredictable creatures, friends, school. It doesn't matter. But school is third.

---

tom riddle: I totally hear you, but I also don't like what you're saying. So if you say no, I will release a giant snake in the bathroom

---

luna: would you like some -

hermione: no! I am going to run for minister of magic someday, so no, thank you. I mean, not that I haven't - I ate a brownie once at quidditch cup party. It was intense. It was kind of indescribable, actually. I felt like I was floating. Turns out there wasn't any potions in the brownie, it was just an insanely good brownie.

---

sirius: do i look like the kind of person who drinks water

---

neville: flying is the worst. I know it keeps you healthy, but merlin, at what cost?

ron: okay, you don't have to join the pick up game -

neville: no no i want to be included. i'll come

---

james: What I hear when I’m being yelled at is people caring really loudly at me.

sirius: that's not right

---

mcgongall: I think you’ve got several options. They’re all terrible…but you have them.

peter: this career counseling session is getting a bit intense

---

neville: how are you handling the...breakup...

ginny: I’m gonna buy some sweat pants and a Gilderoy Lockhart novel. Might as well lean into it.

---

dumbledore, in the staff room, extremely intoxicated: Who hasn’t had gay thoughts?

---

james: Goodbye, Lily Evans, my head girl partner. Hello, Lily Potter, my fallopian princess.

lily: i should have never married you. or at least made you wear a condom

james: what's a-

---

sprout: I’m a simple lesbian. I like pretty, dark-haired women, and man-killing plants.

---

sirius: A couple more rules: if you ever read a sad book, you have to wear mascara so we can see whether or not you’ve been crying. There’s no noise allowed on Mondays. And no magic after breakfast.

peter: er i'm sorry this was the dorm assigned to me...

---

remus: Hogwarts Library is headed by the most diabolical, ruthless bureaucrat I’ve ever seen. She's like a death eater but instead of avada kedavra and crucio she uses shame and shhhing.

james: she wouldn't let him into the restricted section without a note

remus, choking back tears: I AM A PREFECT

---

pansy: I have never flown the high road. But I tell other people to ‘cause then there’s more room for me on the low road.

---

hermione: If I had a stripper’s name, it would be Equality. for house elves and all beings.

ron: if i had a stripper's name it would be sugar striped candy pole for my -

harry: hermione, DON'T -

---

sir cadogen: You know, in the 1880’s, there were a few years that were pretty rough and tumble here at Hogwarts. This depicts kind of a famous fight between Morpheus Rane, a prefect in Slytherin house, and Wilhemena Batlock, a Hufflepuff seventh year. The original title of this painting was ‘A Lively Fisting.’ But y’know, they had to change it for…obvious reasons.

---

bellatrix, in the afterlife: i regret nothing. the end.

---

harry: I don’t want to be overdramatic, but today felt like a hundred years in hell and the absolute worst day of my life.

tofty: I'm sorry but you WILL have to repeat your history of magic OWL

---

james: Lucky for me, I’ve processed all my feelings. And I’ve gone through the five stages of grief - Denial, anger, picking on Peter, cat adoption, reckless dueling, cat returning to the adoption place, reading all Martin Miggs books in the series (what i was picking on peter for actually), and not giving a flying fuck.

remus: you can't say fuck

james: oh great i'm going to have to start the process all over again.

remus: peter, you'd better run

---

dudley: I’m allergic to magic candy. Every time I eat more than 80 sweeties I barf.

fred: how about...81

---

sirius: I’ll have a glass of your most expensive red wine mixed with a glass of your cheapest white wine served in a dog bowl. Silly straws all around, please.

remus: this is why we can't date in public

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neville: I’m gonna get drunk and then I’m gonna order a three course meal where each course is made of dessert.

---

arthur: I promised myself I was not going to cry tonight, and I’ve already broken that promise five times. But I will not break it a sixth.

bill: dad maybe you shouldn't give a toast while fleur's family is still here

---

gilderoy: I have no idea what I’m doing, but I know I’m doing it really, really well.

---

pansy: Use him. Abuse him. Lose him. That’s the Parkinson motto.

draco: I thought the Parkinson motto is don't look at me you whore.

pansy: the motto is really more like a chapter book.

---

harry: You’re ridiculous and pureblood rights is nothing.

voldemort: wow

---

tonks: I would like a glass of red wine and I’ll take the cheapest one you have because I can’t tell the difference.

sirius: cheers i'll drink to that

remus: put. the bowl. down.

---

eh, and just one for the road: “I wonder who else was born in Eagleton. Voldemort, probably.” – Leslie Knope

[occasionallyish--archive]

Some random BNHA boys headcanons!

(Featuring K.Bakugou, H.Shinsou, H.Sero, and E.Kirishima!)

*I've seen all of the anime, so far, but am not very far in the manga. If some are canonically disproved, then I'll figure that out on my own time–

I do mention things I think up to the point of the school festival(I think that's around where the anime goes to, at current), though. If you haven't caught up to that point, you may not want to read this post.

Also! I love to interact. If you have anything to pitch in or would like to request specific headcanons or, hecc, I also love analyzing/pairing relationships, hmu!

TW, cheating and divorce! And self-loathe! Lengthiness under the cut!

Katsuki Bakugou

His dorm room is sort of a mix between Izuku's(not like he'll ever admit it), Eijirou's, and Kyouka's. The color scheme is prolly really based around his hero costume, with lots of blacks and oranges and maybe even a hint of green. Knowing his pride, even his sheets are prolly custom-made to match his aesthetic. Kat's got a punching bag and maybe other training equipment and, after the school festival, he ended up giving into his new hobby and got his hands on a drum kit. He's also got a couple of All Might merch, ofc– A poster, maybe a collectible here and there.

Katsuki isn't necessarily aromantic, because he does crush and knows a relationship-worthy person when he sees one. But, he strictly identifies as such because he feels it'd be selfish as a pro hero to have a lover than can be targeted. Plus, well, he has no interest in distractions, as tempting as it may be.

He's kinda like a tsundere when it comes to his parents' clothes lines, lmao. They love sending him stuff to wear and he honestly does feel pretty stylin' when he wears such, but he always protests and is all "Nada nada nada, I'm not some goddamn walking ad"

Kat's the only person in class 1-A who's completely fluent in English. Momo and Shouto are the only two that can really compete.

Hitoshi Shinsou

Shin's room is actually very cozy, warm, comfortable. He keeps a lot of cooler colors like grays, blues, and purples, with plain sheets. He also kinda sorta takes pride in the white fairy lights that decorate the walls– That lighting is kind of dim, but rediates calm vibes. He also has a sort of nest of plush pillows on his bed, that he can just sorta fall into at the end of a long day! It's surprisingly neat(other than his bed), as while he is too lazy to clean, Hitoshi's also too lazy to make a mess.

Over his time in UA, Hitoshi also develops his own sorta unlikely friend group! This includes Izuku Midoriya(Sports Featival, self-explanatory), Denki Kaminari(EraserMic parallels, plus I think a certain mangacap), Neito Monoma(It all started with a fist fight...), Momo Yaoyorozu(Responsible woman), and Mei Hatsume(They met during the Sports Festival). I like to think that Monoma and Shinsou are exes. It's a tolerate-hate relationship.

Similarly to Katsuki, Hitoshi sort of identified as ace-aro before having gotten with Neito. He doesn't really know what he identifies as, now, but he does crush every now and then.

Shin's got three pet cats! There's Bonji, a ginger tom of a housecat. He's a really prideful spoiled jerk that Hitoshi can't help but love, despite his ego. Bonji also probably ends up fathering Monster's kittens– She's a very very fluffy, chubby grey-and-white Manx. She's real snuggly and calm, and quiet. More of an observer than anything. Then there's Bear, this time a really whiny brown-and-white Manx that tends to get herself in trouble.

Also, if he's not a hero, then he's definitely a therapist. Or an author. Or both, most of the time. His office is called "Hear Meowt" and he's known for bringing cats in, from the local shelter.

Guns scare him. He thinks it's kind of a silly fear(especially for a pro hero) and would prolly get teased if it ever gets out, but– He could never bring himself to even shoot one. Gets all nervous if somebody in the room possesses one. The only class he puts 100% effort into, is Snipe's.

Also, Hito just– Never learned how to swim, cnejcmf. He's not scared of it or anything, and he's okay with hanging around a pool, but he can't swim and won't admit it.

Hanta Sero

Growing up he had a really bad habit of chewing his elbows(He also happens to be a flexible king) and ended up having to get braces(blush surgery because he messed up his goddamn elbOWs). That's why he has such straight teeth. He doesn't really like admitting it so he tries to be subtle but early on in the year he chewed on his retainer, too, and I bet there was one day where everybody just heard SNAP! from inside his mouth. Smile thru the pain, bby.

Also, yes, Hanta is a stoner– But! Being a hero-in-training, he's prolly ths most responsible stoner you've ever met. He'll never smoke on days that he has class or that he plans to train, and God forbid sharing his weed with others(unless, y'know, there's a responsible sober person around).

As such, he's not allowed to attend Bakugou's birthday. Doesn't stop anybody(other than Katsuki) from dragging him in, anyway, tho.

Eijirou Kirishima (But mostly his family)

His youngest sisters are the product of, ah, a cheating mother. So yeah, both parents are now divorced though the kids are in said mother's custody, because unfairness. Thing is, with a single mother that works, the situation gets especially bad after Ei moves into the dorms.

His older sister, the oldest of the kids, is Etsuko. She's 22 and left to America for college, as soon as she got the chance. She hates mom but is chill with all of her siblings, talking with them and dad whenever she gets the chance. Otherwise, her current girlfriend is a pro hero!

Then, after Eijirou, is Akari. He's 13-14 and filled with angst and anger and bitterness, not really going out of his way to show his hate toward the twins but definitely doing so if prompted. Their mom's sort of in the same boat, except for the fact that he just avoids her entirely. Akari takes after his dad, a lot, and sees him as a role model. Visits him whenever he gets the chance.

And then, there's Aiko and Aika(both twins, 8). Ko is really quiet, reserved, smart– She's the only of the two aware of why they don't have a father figure. As such, she has an internal self-loathe and does sometimes get angry and lash out, as a product. Ka's pretty much the opposite. She's real naive and fun and loud, the kind to play sports and gossip about boys and playfully tease her siblings. She doesn't really know much or care about the situation, but she does wish Akira would be nicer :(

As for Eijirou? Well, he's in a real tough situation. He loves both his mom and dad to pieces and could never exactly take a side, even if a small part of him resents mom for what she'd done to the family. After the divorce and especially after Etsuko left, he became sort of the man of the house, taking responsibility for all of his younger siblings. He caters to both his mother and father and though there is a lot of tense energy between the three, Ei gets by. After the dorms are implemented, he takes every chance that he possibly could to slip by.

[popculturebuffet]

Jake Reviews Stuff: Star Vs: Friendenemies

Happy pride all. I’m getting ahead of this one for a number of reasons:  1) It’s pride month and this episode is one of the most shiptastic things i’ve seen with two male characters since Robochris from bravest warriors. I mean it dosen’t quite reach “Creating a skull robot of your best friend because he won’t touch you a lot to make him jealous enough to do that” levels of romantic tension but it tries. 

2) My good friend @jess-the-vampire​ is a tomco shipper, and with things being rough for her I figure she could use this sooner rather than later. 3) Shows are actually coming back with Amphibia emerging from it’s year long odinsleep the same week Close Enough finally escapes from it’s dumpster after 10,000 years to conquer earth before it gets put back in there then escapes again and marries lord zedd.. I lost the metaphor the point is I want to keep Tom train, and other star arcs I have planned, moving at a steady clip. 

So with all of that yeah, i’m ready to go. No real exposition to dump again, come on let’s go after the cut!

We open with Marco at his laptop nervous about something and Star coming into his room tangled in christmas lights... so normal day at Casa Diaz.  Anyways Marco can’t help star out of her latest self made prison because he’s preording tickets to a Mackie Hand Film Festival. Mackie Hand is Marco’s faviorite martial artist and movie star, who died performing a stunt on himself.. accidentally.. did he give himself a death punch? Is this the same universe as regular show.. please say yes.  Anyway as is natural for Marco in the first two seasons as god apparently hates him, the tickets sell out instantly and he dosen’t get them, banging his head against his laptop as Star TRIES to comfort him , saying he might still be able to get them. Marco also says “Good things don’t happen to me”

I mean just look at Season 3. Anyways tom comes in licking a rainbow snowcone for no explained reason other than they wanted to make it obvious this was the Tomco episode. Tom asks to hang out and after Star, understandably at this point given you know, the horrible date where he tried to murder her best friend and the gaslighting a few weeks back, tells him a million times no, Tom explains he’s not here for her.. he’s here for Marco. Marco, given tom’s threatned to kill him twice now and tried to at least once, isn’t biting. Tom naturally has tickets to the festival as a trump card, and assumes that time he kidnapped marco and played him in ping pong for his freedom counts as a friend hang out, and geuinely apologizes for his behavior promising not to get angry. Really while as you probalby know we DO get the reveal later he was partly doing this whole thing to finish his anger managment... I do get the sense this apology, and a lot of this is GENUINE. We’ll get more into the why in a bit, but he does seem to genuinely want to bury the hatchet.  Marco pulls star aside and, given the last two times he saw Tom, the boy had some horrible scheme up his ripped sleeves, he understandably, and as it turns out correctly, thinks Tom is once again up to some sort of scheme, star is fully on board. I have. mixed feelings about this. On the one hand STar did forgive tom for the previous episodes mess and Ponyhead for much worse and it does set up the tiny plot curnel of corn that would grow into an entire corn field of her still having some friendly feelings toward tom. But it just feels weird, even with how cahotic star can be to have her flip flop from “Stop calling me” To “You should totlaly go on a date with the guy who harassed me and tried to kill you twice now. “. Especially since next time she has an episode with Tom, She’s fully resentful of him and a bit snarky and spends and episode, in part thanks to aformentioned magical severed ponyhead, suspicious of him playing games with her head again. We’ll get there soon obviously, i’m just saying it feels mildly off. 

So Marco decides, much like bart simpson that getting where he’s going’s worth it even if he has to ride with the devil himself and reluctantly agrees. We see the inside of Tom’s carriage for the first time, and see my good personal friend dead horse again on the outside, and it’s really nice.. lit by torches because mood lighting, but similar to his room it’s plushly decorated and even has two serious speakers and according to Tom 6 flatscreens. Damn I wish I had one of those.. that and I wouldn’t have to drive since I can’t due to my anxiety. Plus who wouldn’t want a firey horse skelton sidekick? Anyways Tom offers Marco cold cereal and Marco is frank with tom, pointing out he’s suddenly being nice to Marco after never being nice to him before and understandably isn’t sure he’s even a mackie hand fan but a bit of banter and trivia shows Marco that no, Tom really seems to be telling the truth.  Tom then confides in marco that he gets why Marco didn’t belivie him: Most people dont’ get past their preconcived perceptions of him. And here the series does flesh tom out a bit: Tom admits to not having many friends.. which frames the previous two episodes in a diffrent light. Sure his actions to Star are still very much not okay... but you at least see WHY he was so obessive about her: She was probably the first real friend he had that wasn’t a casual aquantince, his own family member, or a pet. Most Mewman kids his age probably weren’t too keen to hang out with what to them was a monster, rich or not, little raicst shits. And in the underworld most people probably just did whatever he asked because they were afraid of his temper or his parents fury, even if his parents are the nicest people in the underworld. So when he lost her, Tom didn’t know how to properly react and while his first attempt to win star back was genuine, it was marred by his refusal to adress his anger or control issues that likely lead to Star dumping him in the first place. While Star’s forgivness HERE is a bit werid, her willingness to give him another shot wasn’t: Tom was SEEMINGLY genuinely trying. He was in therapy, he’d been anger free for several days and most glowingly, when a stranger karate chopped his hand off in a misguided attempt to protect star.. he got upset but instnatlly went into his coping mechanisms.  The problem was as I covered in that review.. Tom didn’t WANT to change. That’s the thing about changing: you need to both know there is a problem and WANT to fix it. And even then, as we’ll see sometimes i’ts hard. I know, i’ve had my own personal issues i’ve had to change up as years went on. It’s a slippery slope you have to constnatly climb up. And BMB era tom.. just didn’t WANT to change he just wanted to do what he thought star wanted that would get her to take him back, and couldn’t understnad why she wouldn’t just listen to him and obey, two things not in star’s vocabulary for anyone much less her ex. 

So , much like I did, rather than blame himself for screwing things up, he just saw it as Marco being in the way and tried to fix that. And so he sunk to rock bottom.. but it didn’t fix their relationship and it took Marco having an honest conversation, as someone who was also very close to her and knew her well, to get him to see that Star wasn’t going to take him back unless she wanted it.. what he was doing was selfish and self destructive.. and Tom probably realized in that moment he had to stop. He let her go, and thus as I put al ot of emphasis on last time, made his first step to being better.  And to me that’s why this makes sense as his next step: While it’s partly to fufill a checklist... you get the sense he really DOES like marco on some level. They hung out, which I do feel tom did genuinely feel was like friends hanging out instead of you know the second highest stakes game of ping pong i’ve ever seen. 

The first if your curious. So while part of this is Tom just wanting to get through anger managment for likely his parent’s sake, part of it is also him genuinely wanting to be somebody’s buddy, anybody but a bumbling butler. It’s just being Tom, he dosen’t know HOW to make friends or get them to see past who he is surface wise; a spoiled angry boy and see the inside, a nice kid who just has no idea how to talk to people beyond a surface level or understand them and we’ll see that more both in this episode and as we go. Speaking of going back in the episode proper, two bros drive up and insult Tom’s carriage also wondering if he’s going to his grandpa’s funeral. Fuck you both.. both on general principal and becaause his grandpapapapapapaaaaaaaaaaaa is alive and magnificent. 

Satan bless you Relicor. Anyways, Tom is naturally pissed at this and Marco challenges them to a race.. but eases tom off actually following them as, since this isn’t a fast and the furious movie, the police immidelty arest them and we get the blessed image above. Let’s see that again.

NOGODWHY

Not right but it’ll have to do I fear what may happen if I try again.  ONE BALLON DICK GIRAFFE LATER, our boys are on a high, as Tom finds there are things more fun than obletarating people. #tomhaskilledmultiplepeopleandisstillthebestboy. Marco is reminded of a song from his faviorite band Love Sentence, and Tom, suprisingy given his My Chemical Romance with a splash of metal astetic, is not only a huge fan but has a giant Helga Patiaki esque shrine to them complete with a cd player with shuffle. Fancy. 

We then get a wonderful, shiptastic montage of the two just hanging out, hanging out with a white tiger. Having themselves a party. And given the song itself, sung by 98 Degrees and horrible realtiy show Newleywed’s alumnus Nick Lachey, even says “we used to be enimies but now we have chemistry” yeah I think this is intentional and they are a good ship. Are they my prefered ships for the characters? No tha’ts kelly and flame princess... the last one was recent and I love a good crossover ship sue me. But I do headcanon both as still Bi and still find the ship great, it’s just not my main one. 

However the good times can’t last as it is film time... but Tom refuses to let marco leave befor eblowing his top off... dude that’s not how you build a suppportive relationship, you know this by now. Turns out the white tiger I haven’t mentioned to now is actually Brian, vocied my boy Stephen Root who apparently just.. lives at DIsney’s animation studios now as he has a tendency to show up in every other animated disney show. You may know him from Gravity Falls as Bud Gleeful, THe Mayor from Amphibia, or , in non disney voice work, Bill Dautrive. Turns out as I haven’t even tried to hide, Tom was in the final stage of his anger managment class and to get out of it had had to spend 3 hours with the person he hated most. As I said I do think part of it was GENUINE on tom’s part, that he was trying to be what he thought friends were... it’s just he didn’t get that Marco, if grumblinignly, probably STILL would’ve agreed if he were honest.  However.. it’s still a step up. While i’ts still a scheme, and his LAST on the show.. it’s more benign after the last two; Instead of being harmful his scheme this time is just “Bribe my worst enemy into hanging out with me and get out of anger managment” it’s still not quite right, but compared to the things he’s done with star, it’s an improvment and a sign he is changing despite himself. He could’ve just kidnapped marco again and forced him to spend the three hours.. granted this might’ve just been Brian saying, obviously no tha tdosen’t count, but still, instead he tried being nice and giving an apology. Even if it was for personal gain on some level, Marco’s words clearly got to him and he’s now trying genuinely unselfish tactics. It’s also notable since he spent the three hours with marco, and at least half an hour of awkarndess before it got all fun, WITHOUT getting angry or falling back on old stratgies and only beefing it at the end because, as i’ve established, he dosen’t get people.  So naturally tom gets mad.. while it is a sign he’s getting better he dosen’t do his trademark horrifying demonic EXPLOSION of rage... he’s still being petulant and sore over his failure is mad at marco for pritoritzing the tickets nad destroys them. Marco naturally calls him out, angry over him manipulating him to get some badge , as he puts it, calls him a jerk and a liar, accurate and the worst part to marco? “I WAS DUMB ENOUGH TO FALL FOR IT”

Credit where it’s due while I may not LIKE adam mcarthur as a person...as a voice actor he is excellent and his delivery here is perfect as you do get the pain in Marco’s voice as he genuinely ahd grown to care for tom. Wethere it was friendship or wanting to make out... probably wanting to make out, you get the pain in his voice. Tom admits the love sentence hting wasn’t a lie.. but too little too late.. whcih is marco’s second faviorite love sentence song and leads to another moment of shippy goodness. Seriously I see why this ship exploded in popularity after this. Also I will say both Adam and Rider have damn pretty voices.  So Tom does what any romantic lead faced with a third act breakup would do.. say a demonic chant and bring Mackie Hand back from the dead. This is also the first time we see just how fucking powerful tom is. Before we’ve seen him summon his carriage and immolate some stuff and easily reattach a hand.. but this is the first time that we see he’s every pit as powerful as star, who probably could raise the dead she just dosen’t want to. Granted I don’t know why this sort of undead stuff hasn’t been used on say, Moons assitnated mother, but presumibly anti-monster stigma combined with the fact that we don’t know HOW she died or how much was left, and are probably better off that way solve that. It goes a long way to explain why Tom’s family are allies instead of the conquered like most monsters: They have equal , if far diffrent and spookier, magic power and are the only kingdom with this trump card besides the butterfly kingdom. 

So as we close Marco tries to use Mackie to get in, the usher dosen’t buy it and a fight insues, but Marco and Tom patch things up, Tom becoming a fan of Mackie now he’s seen what the guy can do and Marco forgiving tom since, evne if his actions were still a bit greasy, he immidetly did his best to try and fix what he broke. The two are friends again despite them both saying they hate each other... but they clearly mean it playfully. The End.  Final Thoughts: After the Slog that was last episode this one is a fan faviorite for a reason... well okay 2 reasons. One...

And two.. it’s excellent. I feel bad it took me years to see this one, but it’s one of season 2′s finest. It’s funny, has great character stuff for both boys, introduces a new ship that’s fantastic and a great new dynamic between Tom and Marco that would carry for the rest of the show. It also beliviebly advances Tom’s character arc: He’s TRYING a bit but he’s still got a bit of the scheming and selfishness that defined his earlier outings, but it’s telling that after this episode, and hurting marco, he stops. This episode REALLY gets him to change that and for the better.  Sadly Tom would only make one more apperance this season in Naysaya, an episode I will cover when I cover Jackie and Marco at some point, but has him show up for a cameo when it turns out the episodes antagonist, a curse that takes the form of a sentient head that spills the target’s worst secrets and insecurities when they try to ask someone they like out, is Tom’s fault from back when he was a baddie, and Tom genuinely apologizes and tells him how to vanquish it, if ribs marco a bit since he cast that curse presumibly sometime between BMB and MCC and is delighed and suprised that Marco seriously hadn’t asked anyone out in that time. But it’s a nice bit that shows their not only still friends but Tom is genuinely sorry for some of his earlier behavior. We’ll see more of that as we go and more of tom trying to be better.. he’s made up with Marco, next time we come back to tomtrospective, we’ll see how it goes with Star. 

Coming up besides the obvious, as Pride Winds down I’ll have my first steven unvierse coverage, one of the first openly gay couples in western animation, and some asexula pride as we take our first look at Bojack Horseman..’s loveable rommate todd. Until we meet again, stay safe, black lives matter and later days. 

[summahsunlight]

This Way Became My Journey, Ch. 23

While the computer was running its diagnostic on the alien device, B'Elanna Torres had snuck away to the mess hall to grab a ration pack for lunch. Well maybe she hadn't really snuck away; Captain Janeway had after all given her permission to take a small break. But it sure felt like sneaking away, with Michael breathing down her neck wanting to know every little thing that came up about the device. Snatching a ration pack up she went to join a Bajoran, by the name of Seska, who was sitting at a table in the middle of the room.

"I didn't think Janeway was ever going to let you leave the bridge," Seska drawled with that sly grin of hers as B'Elanna took a seat.

B'Elanna shrugged her shoulders. "I think she felt bad that her kid was watching over everything I did. Anyways I don't have a lot of time. I need to get back up there to finish working on that device that Chakotay brought back from the planetoid."

"If you ask me this is a waste of time," Seska replied, pushing her empty ration pack to the side. "We shouldn't be chasing after any aliens that like to harvest organs. It could end up getting us all killed."

"Neelix could die if we don't track them down," B'Elanna said, slightly shocked by her friend's cold tone.

It was Seska's turn to shrug her tiny shoulders. "The Doctor has kept him alive this long; that's better than most people can say if they had just had their lungs stolen."

"And what if it was Chakotay that had been attacked? Or Harry? Would you feel the same way?"

"Of course. Neelix should be counting his blessings while the rest of us get to the real work of finding dilithium to help the power shortage," Seska answered, her dark eyes studying B'Elanna's face. "You don't actually agree with Janeway's decision to go chasing after these aliens do you?"

B'Elanna averted her eyes. "To tell you the truth, I think it's rather noble."

Seska scoffed. "One noble deed doesn't make up for her selfish decision to strand us here."

The hatred for Janeway that was laced in Seska's voice was not lost on B'Elanna and the young Klingon woman suddenly found that she was not hungry anymore. Pushing the tray away from her, she looked her friend, or someone she had once regarded as a friend, in the eye. "Seska, I know it hasn't been easy the past month, adjusting to life on a Starfleet ship, but believe me when I say that Captain Janeway has the best intentions of this entire crew at heart."

"You didn't think that way a month ago," Seska pointed out.

B'Elanna shook her head. "No, I didn't. But the past few weeks I've worked closely with her and my opinion has changed. If we had used the array to get home, there would have been people back in the Alpha Quadrant who thought her decision to sacrifice the Ocampa selfish. Either way, she couldn't win."

Seska got up from the table angrily. "You're starting to sound like all those delusional Starfleet idiots."

The Chief Engineer watched as the Bajoran left the table and stalked out of the mess hall. B'Elanna wasn't sure why Seska was having the hardest adjustment out of them all. Perhaps she felt like she had been slighted by Janeway when she wasn't given a higher rank, after all, she was Chakotay's former lover. And then there was B'Elanna's promotion to chief engineer. It was never spoken between the two, but B'Elanna knew that Seska was jealous of her friend's promotion and the trust that Janeway put in her. She also knew that Seska wasn't too keen on all time the B'Elanna had taken to hanging out with Harry Kim in the mess hall or for a stroll on the holodeck. But Harry had been the only one nice to her, on the Starfleet side that is, for their first few days, and she was grateful for that.

It wasn't her fault that she was sliding into fit with the crew and Seska was struggling. She just needs to make friends outside of the Maquis, that's all. 

B'Elanna decided that the next time Harry joined her for dinner she was going to ask Seska to join them. She was sure that Harry would be friendly and make an attempt to befriend Seska no matter how unreceptive Seska seemed.

Speaking of Harry, B'Elanna was sure that Janeway had given him a fifteen minute break to eat something as well. Maybe she had missed him when she had first come in the room. Glancing around she soon found that it had been easy to miss him. He was seated at a corner table with Sarah Barrett. B'Elanna instantly felt…jealousy.

She was shocked by this, at first. There was nothing romantically going on between her and Harry so she shouldn't be bothered if there was something between him and the counselor. But then she remembered Elle Platt, back from her Academy days. Elle had the same dark, coffee brown hair as Sarah, same enticing sapphire eyes. B'Elanna had thought Elle had been her friend and had told her about her crush on one of their classmates. They never spoke of it again, until B'Elanna had seen Elle with her crush, cuddling on the lawn one warm afternoon. Elle later told her some story about wanting to keep B'Elanna safe because she only would have been hurt, that her crush never would have dated a half Klingon.

B'Elanna, who had always resented human girls, with their silky locks of hair, and smooth foreheads, had shortly left the Academy after that. So was it this fact that Sarah looked so much like Elle that she was jealous of the time she spent with Harry? And if she ever did want to be more than Harry's friend, how could she compete with the perfection that Sarah was?

She was shocked at this realization. Being more than Harry's friend? He was Starfleet, a nice guy, but still Starfleet. Well what's so wrong with that? They had been through so much together on the Ocampa home world, she had connected with him in a way that she had yet to connect to anyone else on the ship, with maybe the exception of Chakotay. And that's when her emotions switched to jealousy to downright anger.

Sarah could have any man she wanted on this ship, with the bat of her pretty little eyelashes, why was she with Harry? Good, even Tom Paris was eating out of the palm of her hand and she had taken the one guy that B'Elanna actually felt…feelings towards. It figures the one nice guy on this ship— 

"Seat taken?"

B'Elanna glanced up to see Tom Paris. She shook her head. "No."

He sat down and dropped his ration pack tray in front of him. His grayish eyes looked up to see what she was looking at and he frowned.

This peaked her curiosity even more. Was Tom's feelings about Sarah more than just wanting a date? B'Elanna suddenly didn't feel so bad that she was not the only one who was jealous on this ship. "Something wrong with the view?" she teased.

Tom only frowned more as Harry and Sarah got up and left the mess hall together, laughing about something. "No, nothing's wrong with the view."

"If I didn't know you any better Paris, I'd say you were jealous," she continued teasing getting up from the table and going to recycle her tray. It was time to get back to working on the alien device and the diagnostic. She would have to push thoughts of Harry aside until further notice.

However, the thoughts of Harry and Sarah eating lunch together, sharing a laugh, just would not escape her no matter how hard she tried to get her work done. Michael Janeway was still standing over her shoulder, soaking in every last bit of information that the computer was coming up with. If that kept up he could his mother the report and B'Elanna could return to engineering where her real work was.

Mindlessly drumming her fingers on the console she noticed Tuvok raise an eyebrow. "Does that form of activity make the computer scan faster?" the Vulcan questioned her.

"No, but it keeps me occupied while we wait." The doors of the bridge swishing open brought her attention about and Paris strode back onto the bridge, no trace of the frown he had worn in the mess hall. How can he let it go so easily? Oh, that's right, he's a pig. He probably has another love interest lined up behind Sarah and the Delaney sisters.

The computer beeping brought her attention about. "Captain," she called out, getting Janeway's attention. "We've completed our diagnostic on the alien device."

Janeway strode over to join the group, which was an odd mix when you really thought about it; a Vulcan, a five year old human boy, and a half Klingon. "What have you got?"

"It appears to be more than a weapon," B'Elanna reported. "It's also a very sophisticated medical scanner and surgical instrument."

"From what we can tell," Tuvok said, handing the device to Janeway, "it uses a neural resonator to stun the victim while a quantum imaging scanner begins a microcellular analysis of the entire body.

"The amount of information this thing can gather puts a tricorder to shame," B'Elanna continued. "You fire this at someone you learn everything about their anatomy, right down to their DNA sequencing."

Janeway turned the device over in her hands. "So we're dealing with aliens who've developed a technology specifically designed for extracting organs from other beings. The question is…why?" Chakotay demanded her attention and she mindlessly put the device down onto the science console.

"The alien ship has dropped out of warp," the first officer reported. "It's approaching a large asteroid."

The captain went to stand on the command station next to Lieutenant Barrett while Tuvok took his own station. "On screen."

"It's entered the asteroid captain," Paris reported.

"Hold position."

There were very little options that Janeway had at this moment. She could either take the ship into the asteroid if it was wide enough or she could try to flush the aliens out some how. But that could take hours, and Neelix didn't have hours. Even though the Doctor had come up with a solution for the time being, no one really knew how long he could survive using holographic lungs, not to mention that if ship's system ever went down and the emitters went off line, Neelix would die.

"MICHAEL!"

The shear volume of Lieutenant Barrett's voice startled everyone on that bridge and all eyes snapped about looking for the child.

The boy was standing at the door to the ready room and immediately Janeway could see that he had the alien device clutched in his little hands. The captain had moved the baby into the ready room so she could comfortably nap and she had no doubt that her son was about to test the device out on his baby sister. How could I be so careless with something that dangerous around? She hadn't even seen Michael move from his spot near the science station, for that matter, neither had B'Elanna. Michael was terribly clever, a trait that Janeway knew had been inherited from her; he could easily slip away from baby sitters, his mother, etc.

So how had Sarah seen it?

Michael looked sheepishly up at his mother. "I just wanted to see Ava's DNA."

His mother gestured that he give her the device back and he complied.

"Sit there," Janeway instructed, pointing to her chair.

Chakotay cleared his throat while the boy did as he was told. "Uh, Captain, we've determined the asteroid is man made."

Fascinating. What's even more fascinating that Sarah knew Michael had that device; another question for another time, perhaps. 

"I think I've located where the alien ship entered the asteroid, Captain," Paris was saying bringing their attention about to the situation at hand. "There's an open crater on the limb of the asteroid."

"Let's see it," Chakotay ordered and the viewscreen changed from the image of the asteroid to the opening that Paris had found.

Janeway crossed her arms over her chest. "How large is that crater, Mister Paris?"

"Two hundred meters in diameter."

"Captain," Tuvok cautioned. "May I suggest that you consider carefully what you're about to do?"

"How do you know what I'm about to do?" Janeway asked, raising an eyebrow and glancing at Tuvok.

"I could describe you in detail the psychological observations I have made of you over the past four years," Tuvok answered, calmly. "Which lead me to conclude that you are about to take this ship into the asteroid, but suffice it to say, I know you quite well."

"One of these days, I'm going to surprise you Tuvok," she replied, with a wry grin. "But not today."

Janeway moved back into the command station and briefly looked at her counselor. "I've already consider other options. If Neelix has any chance of surviving, we have to act fast. Red Alert. Mister Paris lay in a course. Mister Tuvok maximum shields, phasers at the ready."

The Captain turned about in the command station and looked hotly at Michael, "And you stay right there and don't touch anything."

"Yes ma'am."

Voyager glided into the asteroid while Janeway made her way down the command steps to stand next to Chakotay and behind Paris. Her eyes watched the screen intently as the cavern's walls began to narrow.

"Captain," Paris said. "I'm reducing power to the aft-thrusters only. This passageway is getting a little too narrow for my taste."

"Use your discretion Mister Paris," Janeway replied, turning towards Tuvok. "Any sign of the alien ship, Commander?"

"We're still following the ion trail," Tuvok answered, "but electromagnetic interference is limiting our sensor range. I'm only able to scan five hundred meters a head of us."

Chakotay asked the next question. "Are there any indications we're being scanned or probed Mister Kim."

"Not yet."

"Sick bay to Bridge. May I enlist the services of Counselor Barrett please?"

Janeway glanced up at the lieutenant. Was it her imagination or did the Doctor sound anxious? "Certainly Doctor, she's on her way, Janeway out." For a moment the women made eye contact. "You heard the Doctor, he needs your help, we're just going to have to handle first contact without you."

[sigurdjarlson]

I want to see tom try to win greg back after going too far. I want too see him jealous and possessive, sure, but I'm also just really curious to see how far is too far for greg. he's been harassed, manipulated, assaulted by tom and he just bounces back. he's blackmailed and manipulated tom to, don't get me wrong. I just want to see the greg who got mad at the roy's for the sprinkles thing get mad at tom -- seriously -- for like...anything? and I want all of this to happen while shiv files for divorce because she's my skrunkles. tom's breakdown era on my s4 wishlist

I would genuinely be so interested to see a scenario like this play out and I don’t think it’s impossible it could happen in canon honestly

Greg does seem to bounce back but given how many times Nicholas has talked about the resentment he feels for Tom because of his treatment of him (and their unbalanced power dynamic) I don’t think he’s as unbothered as he comes across

Tom has treated Greg unarguably pretty horribly. Greg isn’t innocent either but Tom has been downright abusive at times. Greg uses that word himself actually to Logan. “Abusive workplace environment” or whatever

The selfless gestures that come after some of the worst of it don’t erase that.

And I think back to the infamous “Greg thinks he could do better than Tom” interview with Nic. Here’s the thing..when it comes to how horribly Tom treats him sometimes? He can do better. Greg doesn’t deserve that. No one does. If he was willing to leave the Roy bubble he could find someone better.

I of course want them to be toxic and codependent together so i don’t actually want Greg to go anywhere lmao. However would I blame Greg if he did? No.

Tom has gotten better but he’s still awful sometimes and sadly who knows if it’s enough to erase the shit he’s already done.

And also I remember Nic talking about how Greg looks at Tom who’s marriage is failing and who’s desperate and broken and he thinks “I don’t want to end up like you” He sees Tom for the mess that he is.

“He’s just scared and lonely I think..”

I think it’s also important to remember the one interview where Nic says there is a deep love there underneath everything…but also that resentment might overpower that.

Greg does love and care for Tom canonically but his feelings for Tom are also mixed with a lot of resentment and anger.

If Tom doesn’t continue to treat Greg more equally and just generally better. Greg is going to bite back. Whether it’s just by bailing completely or screwing him over I don’t know.

And Tom and him have been improving on the relationship front but Tom has a tendency to revert back to old behaviors when he’s angry or hurt.

The best example I think is the finale. Greg says no to Tom at first pretty much and it’s because of the way Tom asked. “I need you to be my attack dog” and the expression Greg makes and the way he unenthusiastically repeats it tells you immediately he’s not happy with the comparison or the proposal

He does not want to be Tom’s dog anymore. (The dog metaphor/motif returns)

He wants to be Tom’s equal and I think sometimes that’s hard for Tom to stomach because putting them on truly equal ground means giving Greg the power to leave him.

And he might.

Greg gets a lot of shit for his “I’m kind of a big deal now” but I don’t think people understand what he’s doing there. He’s not bragging for the sake of bragging. I don’t think he even really believes it. He’s negotiating. He’s saying no I’m worth more than being your attack dog, offer me something better or I’m out.

That’s what you do in this world. You build yourself up as more important than you are so people offer you better options. Doesn’t matter if it’s true. We’ve seen Tom do it a lot. He’s very peacock esque that way.

And Tom initially doesn’t respond well to Greg doing that. He immediately reverts to kicking the dog. “You’re a fucking joke.” And that genuinely pisses Greg off you can tell.

What Tom is doing is not a genuine moment of making sure Greg isn’t getting too cocky..which is how some people paint it? it’s to make him feel small and worthless and dependent on him again so he doesn’t leave or reject him.

He slips back into his worst habits for a moment. He’s trying to put him in his place. Beneath him. (It’s why he doesn’t acknowledge that he arguably did WORSE in front of congress)

You can tell it’s not this “I’m worried you’re getting too cocky” moment because he Tom is visibly angry when he realizes Greg is beginning to reject him. He says this out of anger. He lashes out.

If Greg knows he deserves better than to be treated the way that he does he might leave.

Except his bullying doesn’t work this time. Greg gets pissed and is still resistant to the idea.

So he has to change tactics and he does by telling Greg what he can gain from saying yes. He does when he reminds him that he’s the only one who’s looked after him

Greg only says yes when he’s at least kind of assured he’s not going to be Tom’s punching bag/lackey anymore. However whether Tom can stick to that I don’t know because like I said it would mean giving Greg the power to leave. (And Greg has already tried to leave which shows that he was pretty done with Tom’s shit even back then)

This is a dog who is tired of being kicked by everyone around him.

Tom could very well push him to his breaking point eventually. How he’d do that I’m not too sure. Maybe he starts treating him like he does in s1-s2 again (and it’s worth noting that even though he’s been somewhat better he still doesn’t treat him that great. He insults him constantly and I don’t think Greg appreciates that kind of “joking” around)

If he tries to interfere in Greg’s career? That might hit be the last straw because Tom has shown himself to be selfless when it comes to Greg sometimes but safe room shows there’s a limit.

A healthy reaction would be to let Greg go. He says explicitly he’s not happy here. Tom can’t let go of him and that’s why he flips the fuck out.

I don’t think Tom will ever be able to “if you love him let him go” because the harsh truth is he needs Greg.

He gets Greg to stay by praising him and offering him more but at first Greg is adamant on leaving to the point of blackmailing him (which he genuinely didn’t want to do)

The point im trying to make is Tom could still push Greg to his breaking point. Him betraying Tom next season seems almost inevitable (even though I think it’s overdone and too obvious but oh well) as Greg continues on his corruption arc

He might just do it out of greed too since this is a corruption arc and Greg has proven himself to be very self serving and focused on his own survival.

But also..I think people forget that it could be Tom who fucks Greg over too?

He’s capable of it. We know he is if he feels hurt or rejected. (Or maybe even if he has to choose between everything he’s built and being the new Logan and Greg. I can’t say with 100% certainty which he’d choose)

And the thing is Tom would expect Greg to stick around after because Greg does tolerate his shit a lot of the time. He’s tolerated Tom being downright horrific to him.

More likely though I think is he panics because Greg is trying to leave for whatever reason (or he sees Greg is going in another direction) and completely ruins/sabotages his prospects to keep him by his side.

Him sabotaging his career just so he won’t leave him might be the last straw.

It’s also worth noting I think it’s very likely he’d do the same thing if Greg got into a relationship. I could see him breaking them up if he realizes he’s losing Greg.

Thats a betrayal in a way. It’s selfish. Especially if it’s a situation where Greg finds himself actually happy.

In the end Tom is not a good person. Nether is Greg. They’re both getting progressively worse. So they both might screw each other over in the end. Who knows

The thing is….that doesn’t mean they don’t love each other. Because succession is all the more tragic when you acknowledge these characters do love one another and hurt each other anyway. God most of them don’t know how to love in a healthy way.

They’re all horrible people in the end though. There’s good there too in most of them (i don’t want to be too reductive) but it’s metaphorically beaten of them. There’s no room for love or morality in the life they lead. It can’t exist there. That’s the point of the show in a lot of ways.

Got a bit off topic there because I have been thinking about how the show will end for all these amoral bastard characters a lot lately and it’s definitely not the happy ending my soft heart wants aaa…that’s what fanon is for I suppose ;)

But yeah I think it’s plausible that Tom could eventually push Greg to a breaking point. (And I think losing Greg would absolutely destroy Tom)

Personally I’d love to see Tom broken and more or less begging Greg not to leave..and I’d be interested to see if he can convince him to stay once he’s hit that point

[duskholland]

The Fame Game (Part Five) || Tom Holland

Summary ↠ You have a mishap with a washing machine, Harrison’s a bowling prodigy, and Tom... Well, Tom is actually quite nice..?

Warnings ↠ Alcohol consumption, reckless washing machine usage

Word count ↠ 4.6k

A/N ↠ And with this part, we’re officially halfway through the fic...? Omg. Crazy crazy. I decided to give you a fairly soft chapter before I start messing things up in parts six-eight, so you’ve been warned haha. As always, thanks so much to everyone that’s been reading and enjoying the story - means the absolute world to me. Enjoy! :D

FIVE: I Wanna Hold Your Hand (Y)

Your trip to London is going well until you have a little mishap with Tom’s washing machine.

It’s not your fault, really. You’d been all over the place - press engagement here, fake date there - and you hadn’t been thinking as you’d shoved your brand new, freshly-worn red dress into the machine, alongside a collection of Tom’s favourite white t-shirts. It hadn’t even dawned on you what you’d managed to do until you heard a very loud, disgruntled yelp come from the laundry room.

“What’s wrong?” You yell reluctantly, voice echoing through the large house. You’re very comfortable where you are - burrowed beneath a heap of blankets and cushions on Tom and Harrison’s squishy sofa in the living room. You’re a week into your visit, and it’s safe to say you have made yourself at home. 

“Y/N! Do you not understand how a washing machine works?!” It’s Harrison. Immediately you feel trepidation creeping into your veins. “Come here!” 

Shuffling guiltily, you slowly make your way to the laundry room. When you enter, you gasp as you see Harrison holding up a shirt you recognise immediately as Tom’s, stained a nice, bright pink.

“Oh no,” you mutter. Your hands fly up to your face. “Are they all like that?”

Harrison nods, humming. For all the irritation of his yell, he’s looking at you with an amused smirk on his face. “Seems like you’ll need to do a bit of grovelling. I’m just glad they’re all Tom’s, and not mine.”

You pinch at the bridge of your nose. “Great,” you mutter. “This is fantastic.”

You take a bottle of water as your peace offering to Tom, who’s out in the back garden messing around with a punching bag. When he sees you, he pauses his punches, throwing out a toothy grin in your direction. He’s shirtless, lower half wrapped in a pair of black basketball shorts, and he looks quite nice with his face flushed a rosy red and his brown curls thrown in every direction.

“Hi,” Tom calls out, stopping his assault on the punching bag. “You alright?”

You manage a tight-lipped smile as you pass him the bottle. “Yeah,” you mutter. “Are you?”

Tom looks at you sceptically, raising a ruffled eyebrow. “Are you sure?” He questions. “You look a bit… stressed.”

You deflate. It’s as if he can see right through you. “Fine,” you admit. “I did something bad, and you’re going to be annoyed with me, but before I tell you what it was, I want you to know that it was an accident and I feel horrible about it, okay?”

Tom tilts his head, laughing nervously. “Is it as bad as the time you told Ellen I was the worst celebrity in Hollywood?” You shake your head profusely, gnawing your lower lip. Guilt sweeps across you, but you’re too nervous to focus on that now. “Then it’s fine, Y/N. Just tell me what happened.”

It’s odd - how quickly your relationship has broken down into something so much gentler. When you’d stepped off the plane and tumbled into Tom’s arms a week ago, you’d been full to the brim with apprehension about your trip. But he’s managed to ease you at every point - offering you tea, a nice bed, and unlimited time with his dog Tessa (who really might be your favourite Holland now). He hasn’t goaded you, or teased you, or pushed you too far. Part of you wants to know what’s changed, what’s catalysed his change of heart, but a larger piece of you doesn’t want to open up that dialogue for fear of him turning it onto you.

Tom’s being nice to you, and without any digging comments to respond to, you’re being nice in return. It really is that frustratingly simple. The residual tension and anger that has been a part of your relationship for so long have dipped beneath the surface, and whilst you still feel them somewhere, bubbling away, your relationship feels looser. 

Things between you are tender. Breakable and fragile, but like a tentative new beginning. You’re almost friends now - which is why you are so annoyed that you might’ve fucked it all up with one stupid mistake.

“I mixed colours in the washing machine and stained all of your shirts,” you blurt out. “I’ll buy you new ones.”

Tom takes a moment to process this, his face pinching into an expression of irritation. “All of them?” He repeats, his accent pronounced. 

“All of them that were in the washing machine,” you mutter, kicking at the ground. “Maybe ten.”

His jaw flexes, and you prepare yourself for a harsh insult or a snarky comment. You haven’t heard any recently, but you can almost imagine it, your mind familiar with his chide remarks.

Tom releases a breath. “It’s fine,” he says finally, defying all of your expectations. “Mistakes happen.”

You raise your eyebrows. “I’m really sorry,” you emphasise. You watch as Tom flicks off the lid of the bottle and starts to chug the water, using his other hand to card through his messy brown strands. His sweaty hair sticks to his fingers.

“It’s fine,” he repeats. Tom even throws in a bit of a smile to ease you. “I need new shirts, anyway.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Even better if you’re the one paying.”

You roll your eyes, releasing a breath of relief. “I knew you were only dating me for the money,” you tease, gasping dramatically. “You’re just a gold digger!” 

Tom clutches a hand to his heart, and you find your gaze briefly flittering over the defined lines of his muscular chest.

“I can’t believe you listened to those rumours about me,” he responds, his voice equally as performative as yours. “I thought you were better than this!” 

You descend into a round of giggles together, and Tom’s deep, hearty laughs are like music to your ears.

The following day, you find yourself walking down Carnaby Street, hand wrapped in Tom’s. Your other arm carries an array of heavy shopping bags. Despite halving your purchases with Tom, the bags weigh heavily on your arm, the tight lines of the handles pinching at your skin.

But you don’t care - not really. You’re too busy listening to Tom as he tells you about the last time he’d been down this street - last Christmas, with his brother Paddy, apparently.

“-Yeah, so that’s how he bullied me into spending five hundred quid on his present,” Tom finishes, pausing as you laugh. “He’s such a sneak.”

“Paddy seems nice,” you say. You’ve got a broad smile on your face as the warm spring sun beats down across your skin. It’s the first properly sunny day since you arrived in London, and it feels like the sun’s come out, just for you. “Your whole family seem lovely, actually.”

“Harry’s a bit of a twat,” Tom says, “But the rest of them are alright.” There’s a brief pause, and you glance over to see him looking at the ground, a thoughtful expression on his face. He looks up at you, nerves visibly in his eyes. “Would you want to meet them?”

You swallow back the apprehensive lump that forms in your throat. “Your family?” 

“Well, my parents and Paddy. You’ve met the others already. We’re planning on going bowling tomorrow night if you want to come with us.��

“You’d want me to meet your family?” 

Tom shrugs. “Yeah. They want to meet you.”

Your eyes widen, and you stop walking. Around you, shoppers and families pass you by, trailing up and down the busy shopping high street. Tom pauses, turning to face you, his thumb brushing casually across the back of your hand as he stares at you curiously.

“Don’t they hate me?” You ask tentatively. You both know why his family might think of you unfondly. Your family certainly doesn't view Tom in a positive light. 

Tom shakes his head, a bit of an awkward expression curling over his face. It gets uncomfortable now whenever your past is brought up. It seems both of you would rather skate around the topic than address it. You know avoidance is a bad idea, but pretending your relationship wasn’t built on resentment and crossed wires is easier than addressing the elephant in the room. Whenever you think about your history, it makes you feel angry - there are a lot of unforgiven sins hiding there, but you’re trying to bury them. You’re trying desperately to move on, but you can feel them following behind you like an anchor you don’t want to acknowledge yet. You can’t quite shake the feeling that this tactic of avoidance may, eventually, blow up in your face. 

“They’d like to meet you. You’re going to be a part of my life for the next three months, Y/N, and… And I’d like to think we are, uh, sort of friends now.”

You nervously bite at your lower lip, giving him a soft nod. “Yeah. We’re friends,” you confirm, mouthing the word tentatively. Friends sound nice, and your smile grows in strength when he squeezes your hand tighter. “I’ll come tomorrow. Thank you.”

Tom steps nearer, and surprises you by pressing his lips to your cheek. The skin warms at his touch, and you end up with a stupid grin on your face when he steps back.

“Thanks, Y/N. You’ll have a good time, I promise.”

And you just about believe him.

You’re glad that your days are filled with interviews and press junkets, because your nerves about spending the evening with Tom’s family still manage to build up, even with a thousand other things on your mind to distract you. It reaches the point where Harrison offers to tag along too, just so you have someone else to cling onto if it all goes awry. 

“You’re being a bit ridiculous about this,” Harrison mutters. You’re leaning up against the counter of the desks at the bowling alley, waiting on your bowling shoes. He’d come to pick you up from your last interview, and together you’d come to meet with Tom and his family at the alley. 

“I’m not being ridiculous,” you reply, eyebrows arching. You kneel on the floor, your fingers nervously unpicking your laces. “I just want to make a good impression. Is that so bad?”

Harrison joins you, the ring on his finger glinting as he starts undoing the straps of his shoes. “No,” he agrees, “But you really don’t have to be this cut up about it. They’ll love you.” He glances up at you, blue eyes glinting sceptically. “Since when do you care, anyway? I thought you don’t like Tom.”

You release a shuddering breath, shaking your head slightly as you stare at the patterned carpet. “Tom’s fine,” you find yourself saying. You stand up quickly, head spinning as you grab your shoes and place them on the counter. You rest on your elbow and look back to Harrison, who’s looking at you with an annoying smirk on his mouth. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You guys bought matching shoes,” Harrison states it like a fact as he reaches up to poke the toe of your new shoes. “I saw the same pair on him earlier.” 

You bite at your lower lip, shrugging. “We went shopping together. He took some of my fashion tips.” You don’t like the direction the conversation is taking, so reach out to elbow Harrison. “Tom’s finally recognised that I’m far more fashionable than him.”

Before your friend can respond, the bowling attendant returns with your bowling shoes and the conversation is swept away, just as your new white Converse get hurried back and shoved in a cubby. Harrison changes the subject as you both slip on the squeaky bowling shoes, and then he’s leading you up to the end of the bowling alley, where Tom and his family are waiting for you. 

Your first impression of the complete Holland family is their volume. They are loud, even as they’re split across two low, plastic bowling benches. Three either side, all six meeting in the middle with their voices clamouring together. Even as you and Harrison approach and you’re spotted, the conversation simply escalates - the topic of chat seeming to be which brother can lay out the most prominent greeting. It’s almost overwhelming, and Harrison seems to sense that as he’s quick to reach up and give you a discreet pat on the shoulder.

“Hello, everyone,” Harrison greets, exchanging a fist bump with Harry. You linger back, not entirely sure of your place within the fold until Tom’s mum rises from the bench and greets you with a kiss on the cheek.

“So good to meet you, Y/N,” she says warmly. “I’m Nikki, this is Dom, and that’s Paddy. You’ve met the rest of this noisy lot, I think?” Her eyes twinkle with comfort, and you feel yourself exhale.

There’s an exchange of pleasantries for a few minutes, and once you let go of the fear that Tom’s parents and younger brother might have gone into the meeting with chips on their shoulders, you’re able to relax. You end up gravitating towards Tom, who’s stayed sitting down on the bench, his arms crossed loosely over his chest as he watches the scene unfold. Tonight he’s in a black t-shirt and a chequered shirt, wrapped up in a pair of tight black jeans. Instinctively, your eyes skim around the rest of the alley, and you note the way you’ve already been spotted by a group of young men a few aisles down. 

“Hi,” you say, voice soft. Your lips spin into a smile as you meet his eyes. “We’ve already been recognised.”

Tom’s eyes lose a little of their shine, but he opens up his arms and tilts his head towards the empty spot beside him. “C’mere,” he urges, and you’re quick to comply.

It’s easy, now, to slip into your role as Tom’s girlfriend. It’s almost second nature as you sit beside him and let him wrap an arm across your shoulders, and it feels normal as he kisses your temple and squeezes you closer. It feels nice.

“Hey.” Harry’s drifting over before you can get too comfortable, his nose scrunching up. “You guys aren’t on the same team. Y/N, you’re on the wrong bench.”

Tom releases a deep sigh, and the vibrations rumble across you. “Harry, lay off it,” he mutters. 

Harry just crosses his arms over his chest, sharpening his gaze. “No. Y/N’s on my team, and I want us to win. That means none of this is allowed to take place,” he drags his finger between you and Tom, and you chuckle. 

“Are you competitive, Harry?” You ask him, already shrugging off Tom’s arm.

“Definitely.”

“Good.” You stand up, grinning at Tom’s younger brother. “Me too.”

But before you can walk away, Tom’s grabbing at your hand and pulling you back, standing as he brings the back of your palm up to nudge against his lips. He meets your eyes, his gaze swirling with something indistinguishable, and your skin feels warm in each place he kisses. He’s still a respectful distance, given how close you are to his family, but he kisses your cheek before whispering into your ear, “There’s no chance you’re winning this, Y/N. Game on.” He pulls back to smirk at you mischievously, and you chuckle in response.

“Game on indeed, Thomas.”

You’re not trying to be mean, but you do think the division of the teams is slightly unfair. On Tom’s side is him, Harrison, Sam and Nikki - facing off against you, Harry, Dom and Paddy. It goes well for the first few rounds, and you’re keeping up evenly with Harrison, who’s quite the proficient bowler, but you have a loose cannon in the way of Paddy. You’d decided to play without the guard railings lining the lane, and you sit through round after round of him tossing the bowling ball straight into the gutter. 

When it reaches round eight and your team is down fifty points, you decide to offer him some pointers. 

“Have you thought about twisting it- no, more like this?” You’re standing up beside Paddy, staring down at the lane together. The ten pins at the end glisten beneath the fluorescent lighting, highlighted a bright, winning blue. You’re itching to grab the ball from his hands and throw it yourself, but you’re trying to play nice. 

“More to the right?” The youngest Holland asks, looking up at you inquisitively. 

“Yeah. And when you’re throwing it, try to look at the pins. Keep your eyes on the prize.”

“Eyes on the prize,” he repeats slowly. Paddy steels himself with a deep breath, and you shoot him a reassuring smile.

“Go on, champ,” you encourage, stepping aside. You can feel the eyes of the group on the two of you, and give him a wide berth as Paddy approaches the line. You watch him play around with the heavy ball, weighing up his options, and then your breath hitches as you watch him implement some of your pointers. He moves fast - arm swinging, hair flicking, and then…

Strike.

A round of cheers goes up around the benches, and Paddy turns to you, ecstatic. “Did you see you?” He boasts, face flushing with a proud grin. “Look what I just did!” 

You walk over, meeting him in with a big high five as you beam. “Well done,” you congratulate. Paddy runs off to his family, and Tom wanders over, next in line to take his shot. Beneath the UV light, he’s glowing. The tips of his teeth gleam a weird blue as he smiles widely at you. “You see that?” You say, teasing, “That’s what I call star power. My team may lose, but I take full credit for nurturing such a young talent.”

Tom laughs, the sound deep and hearty, and with the hand that isn’t holding a bowling ball, he reaches out and rests it your shoulder. His fingers feel warm against your shirt, and as you drift nearer to him, the comfortable scent of his cologne tickles your nose.

“Quite impressive, I have to admit,” he concedes. “We’re still going to beat you, though.”

You shrug happily. “Whatever.” You lull into the comfortable thought that you don’t really care about the outcome of the match - it’s just nice to be spending so much time around so many good people. “Bring your best, Holland. I’d like to see you try to win.”

“A round of drinks for the losers, as promised.” 

It’s with a sombre tone that you walk back to the booth, three pints of beer balanced precariously in your hands. Harry trails behind you, grasping two. As you place the large glasses down on the sticky pub table, some beer sloshes down your fingers, causing you to screw up your nose as you shake it off.

“Cheers,” Sam says, voice dancing with amusement. Harry slams a glass in front of him, eyeing him hard.

“I still don’t believe the machine worked right,” Harry mutters. He slips into the booth beside Harrison. “There’s no way you guys won with mum on your team.” 

Harrison scoffs. “Stop being such a sore loser!” He exclaims, poking at Harry’s side. “We won fair and square. Have some grace and respect for yourself and get over it.”

Harry opens his mouth as if to respond, but you reach down to give him a comforting pat on the shoulder. 

“Don’t worry,” you assure him. “We’ll get them next time.”

He nods, eyes determined. “Definitely.”

You realise you’re still standing at the end of the table, and look to the bench on your left. With Harry, Sam and Harrison crammed there, your only option is to slip down into the booth next to Tom, who’s making quick work of his pint. He quirks an eyebrow as he sees you staring, eyes shifting suggestively at the free spot beside him until you sit next to him. 

As conversation picks up around the table, Tom rests an easy hand over the back of the booth, the tips of his fingers coming down to rest over your hair. Time slips by and he plays around absently with a few strands of your hair, shifting it around, fiddling with it - never hard enough to hurt, but present enough for you to feel it. In response, you rest a hand on his knee.

It’s interesting to observe Tom as the night draws on. He’s got several quirky characteristics to him that you’d never been aware of before. You realise he’s actually quite funny - always exchanging small sarcastic quips here and there with Harry and Harrison - but he also seems to know where the line is. When the conversation grows darker and Sam opens up about something close to him, Tom leans nearer, eyes full of concern and love for his brother. He speaks in soft, warming tones that you’ve never heard before, and they’re like assuring melodies to your heart. 

It’s interesting to see him show such care and consideration towards other people, because for so long, those qualities had been absent when it came to his interactions with you. You wonder if that was just because you’d been a dick towards him and he’d retaliated, or if maybe there’s always been something else hanging in the air between you - the type of emotion that doesn’t come out around family or friends.

As you relax by his side, Tom shows you many redeemable qualities, hidden away so close to the surface that you’re surprised you’d never seen them before. Your only explanation is that before - before this trip, and truly getting to know him - you’d been too reactive to notice them. Your past conversations had been coloured very differently, and you wonder how much of your history would be different if you’d seen this version of Tom, all those years ago, at the BAFTAs. The thought irks you, and you can’t help but think that you’ve wasted so much time fighting with him when you could’ve been chatting, easily like this, as friends.

“Excuse me? Hi?” 

You’re slightly tipsy as you look up to the side, realising you’ve been approached by a few people who look at you and Tom like they’re fans. You’ve inched closer to him, with his arm wrapped around your shoulders and your side snuggled up against him. You think it must be quite convincing, how much you look like a real couple.

“Hello,” Tom says, tilting his head to look at them. You can’t see him, but you can almost feel the perplexed smile on his lips.

“Um, sorry, this is probably really weird. We just saw you guys and wanted to say that you’re a really cute couple.” The fan looks at her friend, and they giggle together. “Are you guys planning on getting married? I think it’d be, like, the best wedding ever.”

Across the booth, you watch as Harry whispers something into Harrison’s ear that makes them both laugh. You throw a scowl towards them before looking back to the fans, taking Tom’s silence as a window for you to respond.

“Not at the moment,” you tell them sweetly. “We’re just seeing how it goes.”

You omit to tell them that in three months, you won’t even still be ‘dating’ Tom. You try not to think about how that fact rests uneasily in your chest.

“Aww.” The friends share a few pouts. “Could we get a picture with you both?”

There are a few rounds of photographs, then you come to the group decision that it’s time to pack it in and head home. You’re just glad the interruption came after you’d been in the pub for a few hours and not earlier. It’s always a risk being in public, but you’d assumed you’d be somewhat safe buried in the corner of a small London pub. You should’ve known by now that you can only remain anonymous for so long.

There’s a bit of a walk to the car park, and Harry takes it upon himself to tease you.

“So, where are you guys going on your honeymoon?” He asks, imitating the fan. “How long until you have kids? You’re both so sweet. Couple goals-”

“Shut up, Harry,” Tom grunts. He’s right beside you, your hands tangled up. You exchange an expression of frustrated amusement, and Harry barks out a laugh.

“Sorry,” he mutters, sounding the opposite. “It’s just funny.” He looks back at you, scrunching up his nose as he realises you and Tom are holding hands. “You know there isn’t anyone around out here. You don’t need to pretend.”

Feeling a little embarrassed by how easily and instinctively you’d reached to claim Tom’s hand, you let his fingers fall away. You shiver as the dark London wind whips around you, and your hand feels cold. 

You and Tom walk in sync, trailing behind Harry, Harrison and Sam. There’s a silence between you that feels almost tangible - stretched tight with unspoken words and observations. Eventually, he breaks it.

“It was really nice seeing you with Paddy earlier,” Tom admits. You glance to the side, noting the way his hair has fallen out of the loose gel he’d combed through it earlier. Chestnut curls frame his face - spreading out across his forehead, and you get the sudden urge to card your fingers through the strands. “He likes you.”

“He’s a nice boy,” you reply, smiling. “Got pretty good at bowling after I helped him, too.”

Tom chuckles, nodding. “You’re a good teacher.”

“I try.” There’s a soft silence again, and you nudge his arm. “Thanks for inviting me along,” you say. “It’s been nice getting to know everyone.” 

“Any time.”

It’s cold. It’s really cold. Your hand aches - too used to the warmth of Tom to feel content hanging alone.

“It’s so chilly,” you voice, shivering for effect. Tom glances at you, his brown eyes glowing in the dark. “I think my fingers are going to drop off.”

Tom chuckles, nodding in agreement. “Mine too.” He brings up his hand, flexing his slender fingers. Halfway through the action, he pauses, suddenly gaining a distant look in his eyes. “Do you want to, uh…” He offers you the hand, quirking an eyebrow. “Just if you’re cold, we could..?”

You bite your lip, keeping the smile at bay. “Okay.”

Your fingers tangle together, and the moment you feel his warmth against your palm, you feel better. Tom’s thumb brushes tentatively across the back of your skin, and though you’ve held hands on numerous occasions, this time it feels different.

It feels different because it isn’t forced. You aren’t holding him because you have to - you want to. And that’s the kind of different that would make your head hurt if you weren’t so distracted by the way his touch ignites a glowing warmth in your heart. 

Your hands rest comfortably between you, and Tom leans nearer, tilting his face so he can lay a gentle kiss to your temple. 

“Get warm soon, darling,” he whispers, keeping his mouth near your ear. His breath against your skin makes you shiver. 

Maybe it’s the drink, or the cold air, or the fatigue, but there’s a moment before Tom pulls back that your eyes find the slopes of his lips, and you wonder, briefly, what it’d feel like to kiss him without the eyes of the public resting on you. You wonder if it’d be different, like it is to hold hands now. Would he be gentle? How would it feel to share a kiss like that? 

Your eyes flutter shut for a moment, and when you open them, he’s moved away. Your heart clenches.

“Thanks, Tom.”

↠ NEXT PART 

please let me know what you’re thinking!!!! ask box is open and I am dying to know your thoughts! :D

series masterpost and the taglist can be found in my pinned post!

[minichedders]

high stakes 0.1

bodyguard!tom holland x reader

Your small black heels clicked against the wooden pleated floor, echoing in the empty, white hallways, pictures of you and the family spread across the wall every so often, in between pieces of expensive art pieces and photography canvases. The white dress you were wearing blended in with the white, light hallway, your skin shining and glowing against the composition, complimenting your bright eyes and hair. The familiar dark red oak door came into your view as you huffed, tucking in your hair away from your face, the faint beating of your heart skipping every so often you had no reason to be nervous, but the sudden urgent texts and calls from your father had always worried you, especially with the fact that his security had almost tripled since the last time you visited. 

Three light knocks landed on the door, your palms slightly clammy and shaking as the reached for the handle, twisting gently, emphasising the faint squeak it gave off, and the moaning of the great oak double doors. The first thing you noticed was your father, dark suit, dark facial features and his slumped body language, his age and tiredness practically flooding the room's atmosphere, and you almost cried at the sight of him. The second thing you noticed, was the man in front of you, how hadn't turned toward you, so all you could see was his dark brown curls, his tall stature and position in the office chair, if you hadn't known any better, you would assume your father was in a meeting but you had been cleared to come inside.

“Hi Daddy,” You said, walking around the large dark desk, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on your fathers cheek, rubbing your thumb against his skin gentle whilst giving him a loving smile as he looked up at you, and all you saw was a broken puppy, lost and tired, which broke your heart.

“Hello sweet pea, please sit down,” You father replied, motioning to the second office chair placed next to the stranger. Now you had a good look at him, and it took your breath away, his dark eyes where solely focuses on you, building your nerves as they looked you up and down. You walked over, sitting down next to him, trying not to keep close o the intoxicating smell that leaked off the man's body.

“What's going on dad?” You asked, you fingers fidgeting as you bounced your foot up and down, tapping against the floor rhythmically.

“Sweet pea, this is Tom, your new appointed bodyguard,” Your father said, nearly choking on his words as he watched your face fall, confusion, shock and little anger fell over you as you stayed speechless.

“Since I have merged with another business we had to make a lot of changes, I have received multiple threats, which doesn't bother me, but now they are using you as a target as well, so I need to keep you safe,” You dad started, and every so often, your eyes would travel form your father to the man next to you, who had been looking at you since you sat down, making you feel slightly nauseous. "So, Tom will be staying with you until we can eliminate the threat,"

You sat for a while, both your father and Tom looking at you, waiting for your reaction as you stayed motionless. You blinked multiple times over, trying to calm your swirling mind, making you dizzy, shaking your head slightly as you looked at your father.

"He's staying with me?" Dad, have you really thought this through? It cant be that serious, I can look after myself," You said, turning sour as you hear Tom scoff beside you, causing you to look him up and down with a dirty look on your face; you must admit, he was beyond attractive, but a bodyguard. Really?

"Yes, until I can be sure you are safe on your own, you need to be nice to Tom, and do anything and everything he tells you too, I'm sorry sweet pea," You father said, and your bitterness built up; you didnt want a stranger living with you, just when you had gotten to the routine of being by yourself, walking around in basically nothing whilst eating a shit ton of pot noodle, now you had to wear clothes and cook meals for you both.

"Don't even fucking bother," You sighed, standing up and leaving. You flooded with guilt as you remembered your fathers face, but you stood your ground, walking down the same hallways and making your way back to your car, saying hello to the familiar security and maids that roamed through.

Before you could even pull open the car door, it slammed shut in front of you, Toms body coming into view before you as you rolled your eyes to the heavens.

"Seriously? I can't even drive?" You scoffed, shoving the car keys harshly into his chest as you rounded the car and made your way to the passenger's seat.

"Why are you so against this?" Tom said, staring the car and pulling ou the gravel driveway.

"Normally the security doesn't talk to the client, just saying," You remarked, thinking about all the films and book you had studied, where the security guards took place in the background, but then in your previous experiences, you were always close and friendly with the staff your father hired.

"What about Princess Diaries? Don't they fall in love" Tom said, laughing to himself as you ignored him. You were surprised, he didnt seems like the kind of guy that would watch cheesy chick flics, but here you were. The short car journey was filled with silence, it was uncomfortable, biting away at your skin as you watched the familiar scenery pass you by. You had always stayed close to your father, mainly because of his guilt-tripping about abandoning him, but this way the only way you could be your own person and grow up, which your father also resented.

a mix of anger and anxiety coursed through your veins as you got out of the parked car and into your house, disregarding any emotional or physical response Tom had to your brisk actions. It was unnecessary for him to be here, to live here, you had always received a threat and you didnt understand why this was any different. But you sighed again at the recurring image of your ill father.

Once you opened the door, you threw the keys into the bowl beside the entrance, the jingle and crashing making you wince at the scurring silence. You could feel Toms presence behind you, hear his breath in and heavily breath outwards again, and you could hear your heartbeat racing faster than electric; you knew that no matter how hard you could try you wouldn't be able to ignore him, or his insanely good looks.

You gave him a brief tour of the apartment; showing him the kitchen and bar, the living room and how to work the controls of the room and of course his bedroom and en-suite, and you wished he would settle in and keep to himself for the most part; but you knew it was wishful thinking.

“Wheres your room then, sweetheart?” He said, his gorgeous frame leaning against the door frame, arms folded and a sly smirk on his face, looking you up and down as you rolled your eyes. You wanted to bite back and tell him to shove it, but you decided it wasn't fair; this was his job after all, and it was only to protect you.

“Down the hall the left, and don't you dare even think about coming in uninvited or without knocking or ill have you fired before you can even blink,” you said, a flirtatious hint somehow ending up in your meant to be threatening sentence, you huffed again and left, feeling his deep brown eyes stare at you as you walk away, locking yourself in your bedroom and falling dramatically on the soft, white silk sheets. 

It felt odd to you, having someone in the house that you can't really treat as a welcomed guest, but not a staff member either; Tom was now a permanent residence in your home, and that would take some getting used too; you now had to be careful around your own home, not wear, do, say anything to risque or harsh, not sing in the shower to your hearts content, go to the toilet with the door open, lay in your underwear on the balcony recliner, all the small things you now couldn't do with Toms company. You decided that this may be a good thing though; there was no doubt in your mind that Tom was attractive, unbearably so, but this meant that you had no control of your action, you will either act like a nervous prick who can't stand up for herself or become a mean, walls up, closed off person with anger issues; really there was no telling what could happen.

But for now, you grabbed your favourite book and changed into your pyjama shorts and a crop top, even though it was around 3pm, and sat on the balcony recliner, to induld]ge oni some much-needed vitamin d.

Tom found it amusing, the way your eyebrows and nose would furrow and scrunch up to read the words on the cream white page, and how he could tell how interesting the book was by the way your facial expressions contorted with each paragraph or so.

He found himself watching you intently, his eyes being drawn to you and your figure; he was stunned that he was going to get paid this huge sum of money every month to look after some rich mans daughter; although he felt guilty that he couldn't stop thinking about how much he wanted to fuck her senseless ever since he saw her.

---

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

Kicking back at a seaside resort

Feel the wind in your hair and bask in the warm sunlight. Dive into the crystal clear water and immerse yourself in the world below. Float as far as the waves will take you. 

I think Aqua Shores is becoming one of my favorite vacation spots. I’ve heard good things about the island for years but never got around to looking into it until a few months ago. It’s a bit hard to get there so that’s why it’s not overrun with tourists. Thanks to Isabelle and Tom Nook, we got a great vacation package deal that has made all the travel worth it!

While relaxing by the pool, I ran into two familiar faces - Dae and Marisol. They reside in Tokyo but visit Peace Coast Island once a year to host a big art exhibition at Seashore Path College. Dae Jeong is a big name in animation as she’s a producer, animator, writer, and founder of Sound Stories - an independent animation studio known for making strides in queer media. 

Her wife, Marisol Alon, is a storyboarder and producer who’s the showrunner of the award winning show Flames of Amber, a must watch if you’re interested in fantasy, drama, and comedy. It’s kinda like a mix between a magical girl kind of show but aimed towards an older audience and a sitcom that tends to lean on the serious side. It’s one of those shows where it’s a mix of self-contained episodes and season long overarching plots. Season three, which is airing now, has been knocking it out of the park so far and we’re only like eight episodes in so far. It’s got dark humor, touching moments, wholesome slice of life stuff, stunning animation, and well developed characters - I can’t recommend it enough!

Dae’s the kind of person who built her life from the ground up. Having grown up in a family that disapproved of her lifestyle - specifically her interest in art - Dae is also an advocate in making the arts more accessible as well as helping those who are discouraged from expressing themselves. She’s one of those big figures - celebrity doesn’t fit her, though she might be considered one - who’s not performative when it comes to social justice. Despite what her detractors say, her activism hasn’t ruined her career, it made her stronger and more vocal. She’s the reason why animation is able to make big strides in queer and Asian representation.

It’s no question that I’m a big fan of Dae and Marisol. They’re also very much down to earth, the kind of people who like to keep it real. They mean what they say and say what they mean - even if it means putting their careers on the line. Basically if they were straight white men they wouldn’t be getting as much unwarranted criticism or be picked apart by haters.

Dae’s not one to back down from her opponents. She grew up in a super conservative, predominantly white suburban town, which explains a lot. She was born in Seoul and adopted at the age of two by a white American couple, to which she became known as Dani. Her parents adopted her because they were unable to have another child so they opted for “a poor exotic orphan” to make themselves look good. As a result, Dae never felt like she fit in with her family because they forced her to be someone she’s not.

From mocking her interests to clearly favoring her brother, it’s no wonder Dae resents her foster parents. It’s a sore subject for her but one she feels like it’s important to talk about as there’s a lot of people who grew up in a similar upbringing. It wasn’t until she left for college when Dae finally began to embrace her Asian side after years of being ashamed of her heritage. 

Dae’s relationship with her foster brother is an interesting one. Jace was the golden child, the good looking athletic star who was popular and charismatic. Dae describes her relationship with him as complicated. While they weren’t exactly close, Jace was the only one who usually treated Dae like an actual person instead of a trophy or an emotional punching bag.

While things between Dae and her family were always strained, it reached a breaking point when Jace was diagnosed with cancer and lost his leg, ending a promising future as a basketball player. Her parents took their anger out on Dae while expecting her to act like a therapist as they cope badly with the circumstances. Jace also pushed Dae around but he would come to her defense at times if their parents go too far. While the parents were falling apart, the siblings came to a middle ground.

The years from Jace’s diagnosis to his death were the best in terms of their relationship, Dae once said. Maybe having cancer changed him as it knocked him off the impossibly high pedestal his parents put him on. With no one to turn to as their parents were too busy being shitty people, they reached an understanding over who their enemies were. They weren’t friends, but at least Jace admitted that the only reason why he stuck his neck out for Dae was because he found her “useful” in the war between their parents.

Jace was the reason why Dae was able to leave for good. Her parents were always against Dae pursuing art so they did everything they could to discourage her. Dae taught herself digital art so she won’t have to deal with her parents finding her art and destroying it. She worked hard to get scholarships since she’ll be paying every cent herself so she secretly joined competitions with Jace’s help. Eventually her effort paid off and she received an offer to study animation in Leeds. Knowing that it was her ticket out, Jace offered to help pay for her tuition as well as an apartment. He also made sure that their parents wouldn’t get in her way and for that, Dae is forever grateful.

In Leeds, it was like Dae was given a second lease on life. Free to be herself and pursue her dreams, she stopped being Dani and went back to her birth name. There, she met Marisol and they began dating a few years later. Jace checked in on her a few times over the next year before he died.

After graduating college, Dae and Marisol worked at a studio in London for a couple years before moving to Tokyo. Dae’s got an impressive array of works like Firefly Garden, Unknown Mysteries of the Seas, The Garden Palace, Neighbors, Northern Winters, and Carousel Dreams. Her whole career’s pretty much a middle finger to everyone who told her that she was destined to fail.

She's said that a part of her wants to go up to her foster parents and tell them to fuck off. But if they knew how successful she was - as in how much money she makes - they’d exploit her, bleed her dry, and destroy everything she worked hard for. Dae meant it when she said that she’s never going back.

It’s good to see Dae and Marisol kicking back at the pool. They’re here for their tenth wedding anniversary, taking a much needed vacation from their busy lives. It’s their first time at Aqua Shores too, having arrived a couple days before us. Both are trying not to do anything work related during their vacation, which is a bit of a challenge, especially for Marisol. The relaxing atmosphere does help a lot though.

After spending a good part of the day chilling by the pool, I invited Dae and Marisol to have dinner with us at the May Harbor Diner. So we enjoyed a beachside dinner while watching the waves and exchanging stories. I think Daisy Jane was a bit starstruck at first but by dinner she was comfortable enough to talk about art with Dae and Marisol. They both gave her a lot of helpful advice on getting her art out there, which was super nice. Dae later told me that she sees a lot of herself in Daisy Jane and I can see that too.

We stayed out until around eight and our group split up. Daisy Jane, Dae, Marisol, and I went on a ferry for an island tour that was about an hour long. At night it’s almost like Aqua Shores transforms into a different place. It’s a different kind of peaceful, like wandering the streets when most of the world is asleep so time moves differently in a way that makes you super aware of it. Too bad it’s hard to take decent pictures of the scenery - I tried and while the pics aren’t terrible, they really don’t do the island justice. 

The lights are so gorgeous to look at, like who would’ve thought that street lights can be so pretty?

Then we hung out at the pool until 1, where we talked about Flames of Amber and binged on a few episodes. It’s fascinating hearing behind the scenes stuff from Marisol, especially in a casual setting instead of like a convention or something. Dae talked about what it’s like running an animation studio, which was fun to learn about. She and Marisol are so passionate and honest about their work, it makes me appreciate and respect them even more.

Before heading out, we got the next two days planned out - scuba diving and riding a hot air balloon! Plus there’s a new episode of Flames of Amber tomorrow so that’s another thing to look forward to. 

[need1etail]

TaS - Chapter Two

ShadowClan scent, tinged with the sharp smell of pinesap, filled Alderpaw’s nose. The bundle of herbs between his jaws was making his tongue tingle.

A ShadowClan patrol led by Tawnypelt, met them as he and Leafpool crossed the border. Alderpaw remembered the night her, Needlepaw, and Russestar took Violetkit away, and how hostile Tawnypelt was toward Bramblestar and Squirrelflight. His pelt prickled. Bramblestar and Tawnypelt were a lot like Twigkit and Violetkit: separated by Clan but still siblings.

Tawnypelt greeted them warmly, which surprised Alderpaw. He guessed she was told to be kind. “Thank you for coming,” she meowed, signaling her tail to a white tom at her side. “Help them carry their herbs, Stonewing.”

Leafpool laid down the parcel of herbs she had been carrying and let him take it. “Thank you.”

Alderpaw recognized Sleekpaw standing beside them. He remembered the feisty she-cat from his first Gathering. Twigkit’s feather was tickling his nose, sticking out from the wad of rolled leaves he was carrying between his jaws, and he looked hopefully at the yellow apprentice, wondering if she might offer to help carry his bundle.

Sleekpaw gave him a haughty glance and headed away between the pines.

Alderpaw sneezed.

“Let me help.” Tawnypelt took the leaves from him gently, tugging them with her teeth. The feather fluttered to the ground, and Alderpaw snatched it up before it could fly away on the wind.

Tawnypelt and Stonewing followed Sleekpaw between the trunks. Alderpaw hesitated, glancing at the straight, evenly spaced pines. This was the first time he’d been in ShadowClan territory, and he was surprised how different it was from ThunderClan’s forest, where twisting trunks and low branches covered dips and rises, their leaves already browning and falling. In ShadowClan, the forest was smooth, dotted here and there with brambles and rutted occasionally with ditches, and there seemed to be no leaffall at all. Pines stretched into the distance, their thick canopy blocking out the sun. Countless moons’ worth of fallen needles made the ground feel springy beneath his paws.

Leafpool nudged him. “Stop staring and keep up,” she whispered. “I don’t want you getting lost.”

Alderpaw hurried forward, following Stonewing as he leaped over a fallen tree.He scrambled over the bark, landing clumsily as Leafpool dropped with grace beside him.

“I don’t see why we need to ask ThunderClan for help,” Sleekpaw meowed, her voice loud. Alderpaw rolled his eyes.

Tawnypelt flicked her tail but didn’t reply. Stonewing continued walking. Alderpaw guessed that the herb parcels between their jaws were keeping them silent. But he wondered if they felt the same way about leading ThunderClan cats to their camp.

Leafpool sniffed. “Someone needs to take care of Littlecloud.”

“I don’t see why,” Sleekpaw retorted. “It’s not like you can cure him, he’s too old, he should have joined StarClan moons ago.”

Tawnypelt halted with a growl and dropped her herb parcel. “Carry this, Sleekpaw,” she meowed, her voice sharp. “It’ll help you hold your tongue.”

Sleekpaw glowered at the ShadowClan warrior, but she took the parcel and, lifting her tail, marched on through the woods.

Tawnypelt sent Leafpool an apologetic look. “Young cats don’t seem to have any respect these days.”

Young ShadowClan cats, Alderpaw thought crossly. He resented being lumped in with arrogant furballs like Sleekpaw. He remembered being shocked by how rude she and Needlepaw had been when they had mocked their elders at the Gathering. That just seemed to be the way ShadowClan was. Needlepaw had always enjoyed breaking the rules.  That was why she’d left her Clan to follow him on his quest. Needlepaw. Thinking about the young she-cat made his fur tingle with a mix of anger and anxiety. He couldn’t help admiring her carefree self-assurance, no matter how angry he was at her. Would he see her in camp? His belly tightened more. He’d been sure that they had become friends on the quest, maybe even more, like siblings, but after the battle with ThunderClan, he knew that that friendship had been severed. Half of him didn’t want that friendship to end, but the other reminded him that Needlepaw took away Violetkit and that she doesn’t deserve his friendship.

He realized the others were pulling ahead, and he broke into a run, catching up as they neared a towering wall of bramble. Tawnypelt was already disappearing through the tunnel, Stonewing at her heels. Sleekpaw pushed past Leafpool and ducked in next. Alderpaw followed Leafpool, unnerved by the heavy stench of ShadowClan.

The tunnel opened into a clearing surrounded by thick brambles. Low branches hung over the camp, and large rock stood at one end. He scanned the camp, wondering where the medicine den was, hoping to see Needlepaw or Violetkit. He spotted neither, but warriors moved around the edges, where scrubby grass sprouted beneath the trailing brambles. Their eyes were narrow at the medicine cats, whispering into one another’s ears about them. Alderpaw’s pelt prickled. A white she-cat looked pleased to see them. “Thank StarClan you’re here,” she meowed with relief.

“Snowbird.” Leafpool met her gaze. “How’s Littlecloud.”

“He’s in pain, and I’ve run out of poppy seeds,” the queen told her.

“Don’t worry,” Leafpool told her. “We’ve brought plenty of herbs. I will ease his suffering the best I can.”

“This way.” Snowbird headed toward an opening in the brambles. Stonewing reached it first and dropped his bundle of herbs at the entrance.

Sleekpaw spat hers out with a snort. “These taste foul.”

Leafpool shoved her away and sniffed at the herbs, as though making sure none had been damaged. “It doesn’t matter what they taste like, it’s what they do that counts.”

Alderpaw sent Sleekpaw an angry glare. Why did she always have to be so rude?

“Leafpool!” A deep mew called across the clearing.

Alderpaw turned to see Crowfrost hurrying toward them, his black-and-white pelt rippling in the breeze. Alderpaw knew Crowfrost was a well-respected cat in ShadowClan: brave, well-rounded, smart. Alderpaw wondered if he was one of Russetstar’s choices for deputy before she picked Rowanclaw.

Speaking of the leader and her deputy, the two ginger warriors followed more slowly, their eyes dark with worry. “We need to speak with you,” Russetstar meowed.

Leafpool dipped her head respectfully to the ShadowClan leader. “I must check on Littlecloud.”

The leader halted. “Of course.” She sat down and curled her tail over her paws. “We will be waiting until you’re done.”

Leafpool nodded to Alderpaw. “Come with me.” She picked up an herb bundle and disappeared inside.

Relieved to escape the stares of ShadowClan, Alderpaw followed his mentor into the den, wrinkling his nose as the stench of sickness rolled over him.

Leafpool crouched beside Littlecloud, murmuring prayers to StarClan under her breath.

Alderpaw stared at the sick medicine cat, shock prickling at his paws. Littlecloud’s fur was matted, and he looked so small, curled in a nest that looked as though bedding hadn’t been changed in a moon. His nose was so pale and dry, his eyes half-closed and cloudy. He wheezed with every breath.

Carefully, Alderpaw laid the feather he’d been carrying on the needle-strewn floor of the den.

As he did, Dawnpelt padded in, her eyes shimmering with worry. Snowbird sat outside, as if guarding the den.

“Who’s been looking after him?” Leafpool turned on her; her eyes were blazing. “His nest is filthy, and he needs water.”

Dawnpelt flinched. “We’ve been doing our best.”

“Couldn’t you have sent an apprentices for clean bedding or wet moss?” Leafpool demanded.

Dawnpelt dropped her gaze. Her eyes shined with a mix of dismay and anger. “I’m sorry.”

Alderpaw felt a wave of sympathy for the she-cat. Both her and Snowbird looked weary and anxious. He wouldn’t have liked to have to ask an apprentice like Sleekpaw to help with mundane duties like moss gathering.

Leafpool’s gaze softened. “I’m sure you’ve done your best. But we need to get him more comfortable.”

“Should I fetch moss now?” Dawnpelt offered.

“Not yet,” Leafpool straightened. “I need to speak with Russetstar and Rowanclaw, then check on Grassheart.” She looked worried, as though she feared the queen might be as poorly cared for as Littlecloud. Alderpaw hoped she wouldn’t overwork herself. “Stay here until I get back.” Deftly she unwrapped the bundle of herbs and pulled out a few stalks of tansy. “Chew this into a pulp and try to get Littlecloud to swallow it. It should ease his breathing.” She shoved the tansy toward Dawnpelt, then hurried out of the den.

Alderpaw paused, uncertain what to do.

“Alderpaw!” Leafpool’s call made him jump. He hurried after her, catching up as she reached Russetstar and Rowanclaw. He tried to ignore the harsh gazes of other ShadowClan cats, who were still watching from the edge of the clearing. Tawnypelt stood, looking anxious, beside Stonewing. A dark gray warrior with a torn ear was whispering to a calico she-cat. Two young toms were crouching beside the fresh-kill pile, a half-eaten frog lying between them.

“Make it quick.” Leafpool’s mew was brisk as she addressed the ShadowClan leader. Alderpaw’s ears twitched hotly. Were medicine cats allowed to speak to Clan leaders that way?

Russetstar seemed unruffled. Her solemn gaze rested on Leafpool. “I have something important to ask you.”

“Then ask,” Leafpool told him. “I need to check on Grassheart.”

Russetstar exchanged glances with Rowanclaw before speaking again. “We were hoping you would agree to stay with us for a while.”

“I’ll stay until Grassheart gives birth and her kits are checked over and healthy.”

Russetstar leaned closer. “We were hoping you’d stay long enough to train our apprentice medicine cat.”

Leafpool blinked in surprise then turned to Alderpaw. His belly turned with anxiety. Jayflight wouldn’t be happy if he had to train Alderpaw any longer than he needed to.  “Who’s the apprentice then?” Leafpool scanned the camp, her eyes bright. “Where are they? Have you picked a tom or a she-cat? Or are they neither tom nor she-cat?” She blinked happily.

“Puddlekit’s a she-cat, and she hasn’t been apprenticed yet,” Rowanclaw explained.

“Puddlekit!” Leafpool stared at the deputy in disbelief. “You want to put a kit in charge of your Clan’s medicine and sick Clanmates?”

“Puddlekit is six moons old and will be made an apprentice any day now, along with her littermates,” Russetstar told her, her tone sharp.

“Did Littlecloud choose her?” Leafpool asked.

“He said she showed interest in being a medicine cat,” Russetstar sniffed. Then she sighed. “But no.”

“Then you’ve had a sign from StarClan?” Leafpool pressed. “Or has Puddlekit had a vision?”

Rowanclaw exchanged a worried glance with Russetstar as his fur rippled along his spine. “We don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Leafpool’s eyes widened, anger sparking in the amber. “Does this kit have any connection with StarClan at all?”

Russetstar lifted her chin, her gaze still hard. “ShadowClan must have a medicine cat. Puddlekit is willing to care for her Clan, and she’s interested in Littlecloud’s work. I am only asking you to train her.”

Alderpaw stared at Leafpool. He understood her shock. It seemed like madness to choose a random kit to take care of a whole Clan. Would she agree to help?

Leafpool closed her eyes for a moment as though gathering her thoughts. “I’m sorry, Russetstar,” she meowed. “I have an apprentice of my own I need to think of. I can’t put Jayflight in charge of him any longer.”

Russetstar sighed. “I was afraid you’d say that. Then we can ask Mothwing or Willowshine for help. Thank you for agreeing to look after Grassheart and Littlecloud.”

“Of course,” Leafpool mewed. “I’m always happy to help. How long are you planning to keep Mothwing or Willowshine?”

“We thought a couple of moons would be enough,” Rowanclaw answered.

“You think it’s that easy?” Leafpool stared at him in disbelief. In ThunderClan, medicine cats stayed apprentices for many more moons than warriors, and Alderpaw guessed it would be the same in ShadowClan. “They wouldn’t be training her to stalk birds! There’s a lot to learn. And even then a medicine cat needs experience—more experience than you can get in a couple moons.”

Russetstar held her gaze. “A starving cat can’t choose their prey.”

Leafpool glanced through at the canopy, as though trying to glimpse Silverpelt sparkling above. “StarClan help you.” Then, with a sigh, she faced Russetstar. “As soon as I’m finished with Littlecloud, I can go to RiverClan to ask Mothwing to tend to Puddlekit.”

“Thank you,” Russetstar meowed, a hint of a growl in her meow. “Puddlekit is a ShadowClan cat. She will learn quickly and perform her duties well.”

Leafpool stared at her. Alderpaw could sense the tension between them and wondered how Leafpool would react.

“Alderpaw.” Leafpool broke eye contact with the ShadowClan leader to turn to her apprentice. “While I check on Grassheart, find some moss and soak it in water. Littlecloud will be thirsty.” She glanced at Russetstar. “Is there an apprentice who can help?”

Russetstar turned her head. Scanning the shadows beneath the bramble wall. “Needlepaw!”

Alderpaw’s heart quickened. Two bold green eyes flashed beneath the trailing branches. Slowly, a sleek, silver she-cat with white chest fur slid out. Alderpaw straightened, forcing his ruffled fur to smooth along his spine.

Needlepaw caught his eyes and nodded a curt greeting before padding toward her leader. “What do you want?”

“Go with this ThunderClan cat and gather wet moss for Littlecloud to drink,” Russetstar told her.

Needlepaw glanced toward the medicine den. “Wouldn’t it be easier to carry Littlecloud to a ditch and let him drink there? He weighs hardly more than a mouse.”

Russetstar showed her teeth, her eyes flashing with anger. “Do as I tell you.”

Tawnypelt hurried toward them, her pelt prickling. “Are you being insolent again, Needlepaw?” She gave her apprentice a cross glare.

Needlepaw’s eyes rounded with fake innocence. “I was just making a suggestion.” Alderpaw tried not to giggle.

Leafpool shook out her fur and headed across the clearing. “I assume the nursery is still where it’s always been?”

“Yes.” Tawnypelt followed her. “Grassheart is resting. But she’s eating well and hasn’t complained of any pain.”

“Good.”

As the two old friends walked away, Alderpaw glanced at Needlepaw. “Where’s the best place to collect moss?”

“The whole forest is practically one big moss garden.” Needlepaw sighed and padded toward the camp entrance. “Hi, by the way.”

“H-hi.” Alderpaw followed, his pelt hot. Is she pleased to see me? She was acting so casual it was hard to tell. Am I pleased to see her? He was still split between hating her and just feeling anxious and uncomfortable about her. He searched for something interesting to say, but Needlepaw beat him to it.

“Every cat around here is really impressed with me,” she told him. Her voice echoed around the trees as they emerged from the bramble tunnel. “I brought back a special kit for the Clan. Now we’re part of the prophecy, too.”

Alderpaw felt a flash of sympathy for the she-cat. He remembered the talk they had all those sunrises ago. She just wants to be part of their destiny. Their prophecy. His heart suddenly ached. Is that why she wanted to take Violetkit so bad? She failed to be part of my destiny, so now she wants to be part of Violetkit’s. He shook his pelt, deciding to ignore her little speech. “How is Violetkit doing? Is she okay? Has she settled in?”

“I think she’s doing well,” Needlepaw told him. “She’s in the nursery most of the time with Pinenose and her kits. I don’t have much time to visit her.”

Anxiety prickled at Alderpaw’s belly. “Doesn’t she come out to play?”

“Of course she comes out to play.” Needlepaw stopped at a large pine and began scraping moss from between the roots. “She’s a kit. What else do kits do?”

“Do you play with her?” Alderpaw thought of the games he played with Twigkit: moss-ball, cat and mouse, hunt the acorn . . .

“I don’t have time.” Needlepaw pulled off a long strip of moss and flung it toward Alderpaw. “I spend too much time training. Besides, I don’t play kit games.”

“But you helped find her,” Alderpaw reminded her. “Doesn’t that make her special to you?”

Needlepaw glanced at him. “Do you play with Twigkit?”

“When I’m not busy with apprentice duties,” Alderpaw told her.

Needlepaw sat back and looked at the pile of moss she’d collected. “I’m training to be a warrior, not a medicine cat. It takes up a lot of my time. Are you going to help with the moss or what?”

“I think you’ve gathered enough,” Alderpaw told her. “We just need to soak it in water now.”

“There’s a pool over there.” Needlepaw nodded past the camp wall. “Follow me.”

As she marched away, Alderpaw grabbed the moss between his jaws and followed.

When they reached a small pool filled with rainwater, he dunked the moss. The cold made his nose ache. As he lifted it out, water dripped onto his chest.

Needlepaw stared at him, her bold green eyes sparkling with amusement. “You look like an otter.”

Alderpaw’s fur ruffled along his spine. He turned, self-conscious, and headed toward the camp entrance.

As he carried the sodden moss into the medicine den, Dawnpelt stood to greet him. Her jaws were green with tansy pulp; Alderpaw could smell the sharp tang of it even over the musty scent of the dripping moss. Needlepaw padded in and stopped beside the entrance, looking at the sick medicine cat with curious eyes. “He looks so small,” she commented.

“His fur needs washing.” Alderpaw piled the moss beside Littlecloud’s nest and lifted a clump of it to the tom’s mouth.

Littlecloud’s nose twitched, but he didn’t open his eyes. Turning his head, he lapped helplessly at the moss. Alderpaw pressed the soaked moss closer so that the moisture ran into his mouth.

Littlecloud swallowed with a gasp of relief.

Alderpaw turned to Dawnpelt. “You need to make sure he has water all the time.”

Dawnpelt nodded, looking guilty. “Okay.”

As she spoke, Leafpool padded in. “Grassheart seems well. She’s close to kitting.” She stopped beside Alderpaw and pressed her ear to Littlecloud’s chest. “The tansy eased his breathing,” she commented. “I’ll mix some herbs that will help his fever.”

“Can I help?” Alderpaw reached for the pile.

“You can fetch clean bedding with Needlepaw,” Leafpool told him.

Alderpaw felt a stab of disappointment. He wanted to show Needlepaw how much he’d learn about being a medicine cat. But he didn’t argue. He should be focusing on helping Littlecloud, not showing off to Needlepaw. Nodding, he headed for the entrance. “Do you know where there’s any bracken?” He asked as he brushed past her.

She followed him out of the den, ignoring his question. “Don’t you get bored of being bossed around?”

“I want to help my Clanmates.”

“Littlecloud isn’t your Clanmate; he’s mine.”

Alderpaw stopped to face her. “Do you want to help him?”

Needlepaw shrugged. “I guess, but I thought that was why Leafpool came here.”

“She can’t do everything by herself,” Alderpaw pointed out, feeling a prickle of irritation. He had almost forgotten how frustrating the silver apprentice could be. “She’s not even going to stay long. Just until Grassheart gives birth and Littlecloud gets better.” Or joins StarClan. He shook the thought away.

Needlepaw gazed at him for a moment, then flicked her tail. “Do you want to see Violetkit?”

Alderpaw’s heart lifted. “Oh, yes, please.”

“She’s in the nursery.” Needlepaw’s mew was suddenly bright. “Come on—I’ll take you there.”

“Wait!” Alderpaw suddenly remembered Twigkit’s feather. He turned back toward the medicine den and darted inside, snatching it from the ground and speeding out again before Leafpool could speak. He raced back to Needlepaw, the feather fluttering against his nose.

Needlepaw purred and headed across the clearing. “This way.” As she reached a bulge in the bramble wall, she ducked.

Alderpaw watched Needlepaw squeeze through a narrow entrance among the prickles. He climbed after her, ignoring the thorns scraping his pelt.

Inside, he was surprised to see the entrance open into a warm, spacious den. A black she-cat lay in one nest, a pale brown queen in the other. The pale tabby was round with unborn kits. Alderpaw dropped his feather and stared at her. “Grassheart?” He’d never seen such a pregnant cat. He was amazed at her size and wondered how big her litter would be.

Grassheart lifted her head, looking weary. “Who are you?”

The black she-cat hissed, “Yes! Who are you?”

“It’s okay,” Needlepaw soothed. “He’s a medicine cat. He came with Leafpool.”

Alderpaw felt hot with embarrassment. “I’m just an apprentice,” he corrected. “I was hoping to see Violetkit.” He gazed hopefully at the black queen, guessing that she must be the cat who was nursing Violetkit.

“Oh, little Violet.” Pinenose sighed and relaxed back into her nest. “She’s a funny little thing. I keep trying to persuade her to go out and play with her brothers and sisters, but she insists on staying indoors and amusing herself.”

Alderpaw followed Pinenose’s amused gaze and saw a small black-and-white kit sitting on her haunches at the edge of the den, pawing at a tendril sticking out from the wall.

“Violetkit?” he called softly. Would she remember him? She’d been so young when Russetstar and Needlepaw took her away.

She turned her head and blinked at him, her eyes showing no emotion.

Alderpaw’s heart tightened. She looked even lonelier than Twigkit, playing by herself. “It’s me, Alderpaw. I’ve brought you a present from your sister.”

“My sister?” Violetkit blinked at him, confused. “You mean Lionkit?”

“No, little Violet,” Pinenose mewed. “Your other sister. Remember Twigkit, in ThunderClan?”

“Yes,” Alderpaw pushed the feather toward her.

Violetkit stared at it, her fluffy pelt spiking. “It’s a feather,” she mewed slowly, as if confused.

“Yes.” Alderpaw nudged it closer. “A red one, like the one you used to play with when you shared a nest with her.”

Violetkit’s eyes suddenly lit up. “I remember!” She pricked her ears and bounded forward. “Is it the same one?”

Alderpaw shook his head, then softened the story a bit for the young kit. “The old one got dirty, so Twigkit found a new one for you.”

“Just for me?” The kit’s mew cracked before she broke into a loud purr. She pounced on the feather, trapping the quill between her paws and grabbing it between her jaws. “Momma! Pinenose, look what Twigkit gave me!”

Pinenose blinked at her. “I saw it, Violet,” she meowed. She seemed like she was trying her best to sound interested in the feather. “It’s very pretty.”

“I love it!” the kitten squealed, tucking it behind her ear like Twigkit said she did before. Violetkit lifted her face and stared at Alderpaw. “Tell Twigkit I love it!” She sat up suddenly. “How is Twigkit? What’s she like? Has she got her own feather? Is her tail fluffy yet? She always wanted the fluffiest tail. Has she tried vole yet? I want to taste vole, but mom says I’m not ready ready.”

Her words tumbled out in excitement, leaving Alderpaw breathless. Which question should he answer first?

Suddenly he thought of Sparkpaw. She’d been a lively kit too. His heart ached to imagine how he could have grown up without her endless questions and new ideas for games. Losing Sparkpaw would be the worst thing that could happen to Alderpaw.

“Twigkit’s tail is getting fluffier every day, and she tasted her first vole two sunrises ago. She helps me out in the medicine den a lot and—”

“Is she going to become a medicine cat?” Violetkit asked, her eyes wide.

Alderpaw purred. “I don’t think ThunderClan needs three medicine cats.”

“Violetkit,” Pinenose called to her. “I think it’s time for your nap.”

“But I’m not tired!” Violetkit stared at the black she-cat with an upset gaze.

“Grassheart is tired, Violet,” Pinenose answered. “And she can’t sleep with you chattering.”

Alderpaw felt sympathy tug at his heart for Violetkit. “Perhaps she could leave the den for a while and play with her feather and her siblings?”

Pinenose sniffed at the ginger tom, eyeing him. “I’m her foster mother, so I can say when it’s time for her nap.”

Alderpaw could see it was pointless in arguing with the queen. He gave Violetkit a sad look. “You better rest,” he murmured. He glanced at Pinenose. The ShadowClan queen was settling down into her nest, her tail twitching. “Besides I have to get going.”

“Already?” Disappointment sparkled in Violetkit’s yellow eyes.

“My Clanmates will be expecting me.”

Violetkit stared up, hope sparking in her gaze. “Will you come visit again soon?”

Pity welled up in Alderpaw’s throat. She should be in ThunderClan, playing with her sister. Not here, where she was obviously lonely. “I’ll try.”

Violetkit gazed at him bleakly, as though she didn't believe he meant it. “I’d better go take my nap.” Tail drooping, she turned and climbed into the nest to settle in beside Pinenose. The feather dislodged from her ear and fluttered to the ground beside the nest.

Alderpaw lifted it between his teeth and set it down beside her. “Sleep well, Violetkit. I’ll tell Twigkit all about you.”

“Tell her I’m going to be the best warrior ever.”

“I will.” Regret filled Alderpaw’s belly. Trying not to show it, he headed for the entrance. “We’d better go find some bedding for Littlecloud,” he told Needlepaw.

“I guess.” Needlepaw squeezed out after him. “I never realized Violetkit was so talkative.”

“Perhaps you should try spending more time with her.” After all, you did find her and name her. Alderpaw padded across the camp.

“Maybe.” Needlepaw sounded thoughtful. “It could be cool to have a kit following me around.”

Alderpaw hardly heard her. He was so lost in his own thoughts. Violetkit seemed so lonely. If only there were something he could do to help . He pricked his ears as a thought struck him. At the camp entrance, he halted and stared at Needlepaw. “I have an idea.”

Needlepaw met his gaze, eagerness sparking in her eyes. “What?”

Alderpaw lowered his voice. “Why don’t we let the kits meet?”

“You mean Violetkit and Twigkit?” Needlepaw looked puzzled. “But how?”

“We can decide on a meeting place, then sneak them out one night and take them there.”

“You mean in secret?” Needlepaw’s eyes shone. “While everyone’s sleeping?”

Alderpaw nodded, ignoring the guilt worming through his belly. Surely Violetkit’s happiness was more important than Clan rules? Besides, Alderpaw still firmly believed that the Clans shouldn’t have separated the kits in the first place. He pushed away the thought that this would also be a chance to see Needlepaw again. He had to admit, he did miss her. She still felt like a close sister to him. But this wasn’t for him. It was for the kits.

Needlepaw was pacing. “There’s a great spot near the border. I can show you while we’re collecting bracken. It’ll be perfect. No one would ever know but us.” She flicked an ear toward her unseeing Clanmates, pleasure warming her gaze. Then she turned to Alderpaw. “Don’t you just love secrets?”

[penumbra-rp]

Congratulations Hayley, you have been accepted for the role of Emma Vanity!

“Which Hogwarts University faculty did you study at?”

“Hufflepuff School of Art, obviously,” she answered, tongue dripping in sarcasm. “I got my degree in fingerpainting - forensic science is just a hobby of mine.”

Admin Becky: We all know I love a shamelessly rowdy firecracker of a girl. Emma is everything I could have hoped for her to be and more. As tough as she seems, you’ve managed to capture an edge of vulnerability that comes from absorbing her mother’s anger and inheriting her crooked, unshakeable ties to Tom Riddle. The added dimension of Emma being blackmailed into becoming a Death Eater is so exciting! It breaks my heart that her job seems to be one of the few things in her life that has gone well and that she adores, only for it to become tainted by her newfound purpose. Maybe she’ll listen to her conscience and consider escape. Or maybe she’ll let herself get dragged deeper for the sake of gaining the acceptance she wants. I can’t wait to find out.

Please check out our checklist for joining Penumbra.

01. Out of Character

NAME: Hayley

AGE: 22

YOUR BIRTHDAY: November 14

PRONOUNS: she/her

TIMEZONE: EST

02. In Character

CHARACTER: Emma Vanity

CHARACTER’S PRONOUNS: she/her

FACECLAIM: Aiysha Hart

CHARACTER’S BIRTHDAY: November 6th, 1992

PERSONALITY:

+ Analytical, expressive, passionate

- Hot-headed, emotional, stubborn

BRIEF BULLET POINT BIO

She inherited her temper from her mother. A woman fiery and bold, but perhaps a bit too bold, Emma would learn. It drove her father away. It caused risks to be taken that didn’t work out, resulting in a business crumbling and Emma left with less food on her plate and more fire in her mother’s eyes.

They could have lived in the world of the Sacred 28, maybe not completely joining their ranks but still living a life tangent to their greatness, had it not been for Adeline Dupree (the divorce from Theodore Vanity had been finalized by this point) and those risks she took. Emma never saw her mother blame it on herself, however, instead blaming the man whose name she’d only ever heard in whispers, now folded into a string of curses at her mother’s fury: Tom Riddle. She claimed it was he who pulled her over the edge, though the reason always changed - for his own sick delight, because he saw her as a threat, using her as a disposable way to take a risk of his own.

Emma saw why her father left as verbal anger hurled her way as she grew. It was that anger she harbored - for her mother, who snapped at the slightest drop of a glass or entry a minute past curfew, for her father, who knew exactly when to get out but never thought to take his daughter with him, and for Tom Riddle, who, as far as Emma had learned growing up, was responsible for this whole mess.

She only ever wanted to get out. Resenting the anger her mother projected her way didn’t stop it from infecting her. The apple never fell far from the tree, and Emma was a shining example of that. Her natural reaction came flooding from her the moment she felt it, regardless of how irrational it might have been. She screamed when she was angry, cried when she was upset, and had some combination of the two when she was frustrated, which turned out to be often. She believed all that anger, all that the family endured at the hands of her mother and Tom Riddle (the villain of these stories ever since their world came crashing down) made her brave, made her fearless. If she could endure this, nothing could pierce her own flaming heart.

College was her way of getting out - specifically, Gryffindor School of Applied Science at Hogwarts University. Emma had always been interested in science, though once struggled to find her niche. Chemistry was the one that sparked her interest the most but not quite her forte, with chemicals more reactive than she was. Biology was alright but she hated the memorization of body parts and plant systems she never thought to care about. Physics was out of the question. Bare-bones science was repetitive, not something she could get behind, until she learned of the fields in which you could apply it all. Chemistry produced makeup and medicine. Biology studied animals in their natural habitats and identified new viruses. Physics was still out of the question.

Above it all, a perfect combination of all science and excitement and a break from the monotony of following a recipe: forensic science. She loved the work, no matter how small-scale or tedious it could become, because it always changed. She loved the environment, the thrill of a scene and back-and-forths with officers. This was what she wanted to do. But there was still something missing.

That something was the thought that burned at the back of her mind, the thought of what her life would be like had her mother’s risks paid off, had they joined the high society the Sacred 28 revelled in. The thought didn’t occur to them too much before college, for they only ever heard it through bitter grumbles from their mother’s lips and imagined those who enjoyed that lifestyle as the villains she painted them as. Jealousy turned their images ugly through her mother’s acid-soaked tongue, but in college, finally away from that corrosive thing, Emma got a view of some of high society’s most favored up-and-comers, and like everyone else, she longed to know what their world was like, especially knowing she had once been so close to it.

Unlike everyone else, she decided to go after that desire, though in the most foolish way possible: lying. She’d never meant for it to be larger than it was. Her name and place of study and connections were all fabricated, yes, but it was only meant to be for a night, to dance along the edge of glory and return to her bed to lament about what could have been. But the life was addicting, and all it took was one hand of a Death Eater to pull her in.

They liked her and wished to see more of her, and so Emma gave them what they wanted - those people always got what they wished for, after all. It was a life she felt she had missed out on, a life that could have been. But it was a life that wasn’t meant to be, and she should have known the Sacred 28 could smell those that didn’t belong. The only thing worse than not being one of them was lying about being one of them.

Found out, they began to blackmail her. Her real name, her real life, her very real mother and problems that came with her all hung over her head. Petty theft as a teen she was let off the hook for came back to haunt her. Even made up stories that threatened her degree and her credibility as a forensic scientist were brought into the mix, for who would believe her over those that had the society wrapped around their fingers? Enough, she had said. Make it stop.

And so, they took her to Tom Riddle. He was different than she envisioned. A man who knew how to play those around him. His words blanketed all the things her mother had said about him over the years. All would be forgiven if she helped him out. She’d get a lot more than she could ever hope to get without him. It seemed like an unfair deal on his end, to give her so much in exchange for a little help, but he knew Emma’s worth even when others might not have, saw the mind behind the skull and the shiftiness that could be projected into those eyes. Nothing was ever unfair on Tom Riddle’s end. She took the deal.

It wasn’t the hardest thing to do. Her life would continue relatively as normal, only her connections would grow deeper (though darker) and the sum in her bank account would grow larger (though dirtier). She would work in secret, ruining samples or sabotaging instruments. Bleach instead of water on her swab to destroy incriminating DNA. Fibers glossed over, hair evidence dubbed inconclusive. Blood cleaned up before it could be found by other investigators. It ruined the integrity of the work she loved. It didn’t completely ruin the job, but it put a pressure upon her. If a Sacred 28 member is caught or Death Eaters are found out and it’s due to the physical evidence she could not corrupt, it would all be over. She couldn’t fail.

She likes her job. She likes the crime scenes and the laboratory and maybe not so much the part where she goes to court, but she likes her job. Sometimes she has to step away from the bench to distract herself from the realities of her unethical actions, but she likes her job. Her outbursts at police interactions and breakdowns when the instrument has frustrated her to her breaking point made it seem otherwise, but she likes her job. Emma likes being where she belongs, and it’s that sense of belonging extended to her through the Death Eaters that tangles her in this web. She is a fly to these spiders, trapped in their web until she is no longer of use to them - that is, when she is wholly consumed.

She’s angry. Angry at the Order, for they don’t know what anarchy and misery they would bring to take down those keeping the world afloat; she’d hit the bottom, she knew it well. She’s upset. Upset with herself in moments where a conscience appears beneath the darkness she’s succumbed to, though it’s often washed down with some alcohol or words from those she holds close. She’s frustrated. Frustrated with the burden on her shoulders and with the damned IR that won’t give her good results even when she needs them. She’s scared. She’s ruthless. She’s her mother reincarnate.

INTERVIEW:

i. How do you feel about your current occupation?

Emma hated having her time wasted. When time was of the essence, as it often was in cases she worked (and as it often was with her other superiors’ watchful eyes beating down upon her like hot sun rays), she grew impatient with things that didn’t need to take up the amount of time they did. Sure, things like PCR had no choice but to take a few hours, but this? This was just unnecessary. Arms crossed over her chest, she glanced at the door briefly, wondering when it was she could get back to the very occupation she was being kept from to answer a few bullshit questions. “Love it,” she answered briefly, hoping that would be enough. Prompting eyes from the questioning figure made her sigh. “Fine. It’s great. I’ve studied for this; I’ve wanted this for a long time. What, do you need to hear some sob story about how my uncle’s cousin’s dog-walker’s sister was murdered once and I’m on some vengeful quest to find the killer? Newsflash: this isn’t CSI.”

ii. What song would you say describes yourself?

“What kind of bullshit questions are these?” she snapped. Emma knew there was a script being read from, but frankly, she didn’t care. If her time was going to be wasted, she would at least prefer it be wasted on questions that mattered, like a proficiency test or something. Irritation came through in her voice. “I don’t know; I don’t exactly listen to music because it ‘gets me’ like I’m some teenager looking to be looked down upon by every adult.” Still, she was prompted once more to answer the question. A simple answer was made. “‘Nightmare.’” Surely Emma was no sweet dream.

iii. Does reputation matter to you?

Her brow raised incredulously at the question. “What do you think? No. Let them think what they want - doesn’t mean shit to me.” Perhaps she should have answered “bad reputation” to that last question, but it was too late to backtrack. But really, that was a lie. Reputation mattered among the Death Eaters, for if her reputation for doing her job were to slip through the cracks, she was dead to them - and maybe even dead literally. Reputation mattered in the court when she testified, possibly the one place she could even somewhat keep her temper under control, for if she didn’t, her credibility could be jeopardized, and it was that same cycle of being dead to both groups she worked for. Rinse and repeat.

iv. What is your relationship with your parents like?

The tension was recognizable upon her face immediately. Her teeth were together, hard, and her jaw showed obvious tensity through the soft skin of her face. “My mom’s a bitch and my dad’s a deadbeat. Next question,” she answered curtly, her voice firm. Prompting eyes stared back at her again, meeting the fury in her gaze. Her mother’s voice rang in her ears upon sleepless nights. Her father’s decisions weighed heavily in her mind whenever she dared to think what if? She resented them both. When the inquisitor attempted to get some elaboration, she cut them off, her voice sharp and threatening. “I said, next fucking question, asshole. Don’t make me answer again.”

v. What languages can you speak?

“Fluently, one,” she answered in said language. It was hard to lash out at a question such as this, though the randomness of it all still brought a frustrated edge to her tone. “I speak a bit of standard Arabic - al'ahmaq sakhif -” she demonstrated, mostly ever learning curses from her mother’s outbursts - “and some Spanish, but only enough to pass my exams.”

vi. If your home was on fire and you could only save one item, what would you choose?

There was something she’d received as a child; a Christmas present from a teacher, back when teachers did that sort of thing and back when Emma went to a school where teachers could afford to do that sort of thing. She wouldn’t be attending there once the holiday break passed, for they’d just lost everything; the fall would be hard and fast with little time to say goodbye to the friends she had made before being forced into a completely different environment full of completely different peers. The gifted book wasn’t necessarily anything special on its own - a moleskin journal with decorative pages - and wasn’t even touched by Emma for the longest time, gathering dust on a shelf until she finally decided to open it. It held so much history - many remnants of pages violently torn out and crumpled in anger, scribbles made in a thought-fueled fury, lists upon lists, photos and magazine cuttings and memories taped to the pages that remained. Her hands would reach instinctively for it, but she lied. “My laptop, I guess? What kind of question even is that?”

vii. Which Hogwarts University faculty did you study at? The Gryffindor School of Applied Science, the Ravenclaw School of Humanities, the Slytherin School of Social Science, or the Hufflepuff School of Art?

“Hufflepuff School of Art, obviously,” she answered, tongue dripping in sarcasm. “I got my degree in fingerpainting - forensic science is just a hobby of mine.” Her tone switched back to speaking genuinely, the sarcasm turned to venom. “Which do you think I studied at? Come on, asshole, use some fucking context clues and stop wasting my time.”

vix. What is your social media username?

“vanitye on everything. Is that it? Can I go now? I’m done wasting my time here.” The chair was pushed back with nearly enough force to topple it, the scraping sounds of it drowning out whatever the other person’s protests might have been. Enough wasting time, Emma had decided, and so she stormed out, hoping something useful would at least come out of the seconds she would never get back. “Fucking idiots and their dumb fucking questions,” she muttered under her breath, arms swinging at her side as she exited the hall.

[Quick extra context hc: In England, forensic science is not performed by the police, typically, but is rather sent out by these agencies to various companies that do forensic analysis for a price. Because of the nature of Operation Auror, they do not send out their evidence, rather entrusting it to their own team, which is small by comparison. Thus, Emma tends to do a variety of tasks under the umbrella of forensic science, when most people in forensic science careers stick to one specific discipline.]