#hm. should i...? ...yeah sure i have the colors so why not

[indilaras]

it's mira loving hours <3

(you check the clock. all the numbers have been replaced with 'mira loving hours')

Aro and Ace colors bonuses:

[cicada-candy]

The Workplace Hazards Of A Pit Fighter.

Alt versions:

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC prompt. Dead on main. Someone who knows you better than you know yourself.

Perhaps Fentons are not able to recognize their child, despite the fact that they hunt him day after day. But for childhood friends, who saw each other in absolutely ridiculous situations that parents are never allowed to know about, just one sneeze and a bored sigh is enough to realize that this weirdo fighting next to him is the same guy with whom you tasted soap and then stood looking at each other from different corners and giggling.

And so, the dialogue after the battle with the creatures of Infinite Realms, to which Constantine had to invite a potential ally not yet approved by the League:

Phantom: Well, mom always said you were bad news...But a crime lord, seriously? What happened to your plans to become a literature teacher? Red Hood: Hey! For Gotham, this is a very high-paying in-demand job. And I don't want to hear anything from Casper. At least I have my own business. What kind of part-time job do you have? Are you selling sheets to your buddies from this green goo? Phantom: This is ectoplasm. And they're not my friends, and anyway… Constantine: King Phantom, do you know Red Hood? Phantom: Do I know him? Ha! This street rat was Splinter of my beginnings until my family moved out of Gotham.

Red Hood: Wait, wait a minute. Phah...Holy shit. I thought I was the best example of what it means to be a disappointment to a family, but you beat me here. Oh, man, only you...The ghost king who is the son of the ghost hunters? Seriously? Hahah! I thought your rebellious phase ended the moment you told your father that you wanted to be an astronaut and not inherit the family business.

Danny*groans and covers his face with his hands*: My life is over.

Red Hood: Literally~ No, of course I always knew that your parents' disregard for safety in the laboratory would someday kill someone, but I didn't really expect this? Like, wow… Phantom: What makes you think it was an incident in the lab? I mean, there are so many possibilities around. It's ridiculous and…hah Red Hood: Dude, look me straight in the face and tell me I'm wrong if you dare. Phantom:…Fuck you, stupid bookworm. Red Hood: Stubborn nerd. Phantom: Red bucket! Red Hood: Pale toadstool! Nightwing: Um, can you guys please stop fighting? Red Hood: What are you talking about? This is how we always communicate. Phantom: Yeah! Well, in our defense, my sister always thought we both could use a therapist. Oh, man, he made me lose my train of thought. Where were we, J? Red Hood: Since when are you able to think? And I complimented your new hair and skin color. Phantom: Right, right… But, hey, not all of my parents' hypotheses really have a right to exist, and you know it! Hm, did I mention that you're built like a fridge and how does this leather jacket suit you? Red Hood: I believe not. And who's talking about your parents' work? You were an airhead when you were alive too to be honest. And as I see it, not much has changed. Why the hell are you still starting a fight with puns? Stop telling your opponent your position. This is terribly stupid! Phantom: Oh, please, these ghosts are definitely not a threat to me. What's wrong with having a little fun? The fact that you don't have weapons to handle something stronger than a blob ghost is your problem not mine, loser. But let's get back to our greetings. Red Hood: Sure. Then listen here…

~~~~~

Nightwing: Jay, why didn't you say right away that you knew Phantom? We've wasted so much time wondering if it's worth summoning him, and you just stood there and said nothing. Red Hood: Pfff…Because I didn't know that until today. He used to be human. And we haven't seen each other for a long time. So how was I to know that he would take such a ridiculous pseudonym? Nightwing: Then why the hell didn't you feel worried about teasing this creature? Red Hood: Why should I? It's just Danny.

~~~~

Tucker: Oh man, 84 murders, attempts to kill Joker and to much fights with Batman and Black Mask and… Danny: Yeah, yeah. It's all very interesting, but it's not what I asked you to find. Get to the point, Tucker. What I will wear to our dinner tonight depends on this. Tucker: Seriously? As far as I'm concerned, whether he's single or not is less important than all this shit. Aren't you afraid to show up at his house? Danny: I'm invited. And for that matter, I'm Amity Park's former public enemy number one. Which one of us should be worried, hah? So he's not dating anyone, right? Don't try to distract me. Tucker: Dude! Danny: Ugh, in my experience, when he acts like he's lost his mind, he usually has good reasons for it. And if not, given some of the events of my alternative future, I have no right to judge him, so…

[sports-on-sundays]

McLaren hat / OP81

Summary: Oscar x girlfriend!reader - You never realised how much pressure would come from simply being a Formula 1 WAG, and start to go a little bonkers with all the PR.

Warnings: I don't remember if Abu Dhabi was hot this season (probably like wasn't at all) but just pretend it was okay?, stress, kind of low self image, anxiety, taking great lengths just to feel accepted

Requested?: No

"Hey Y/n- whoa." As soon as Oscar looks up from his phone at you, his eyes widen and his eyebrows shoot up.

You watch as he looks you over, and immediately say, "Does it look alright?"

"Does it look alright?!" Oscar asks, standing up right away to be in front of you. "Y/n, you look gorgeous." He steps closer, taking your hands, looking at your tight, short black dress, leather boots, and (of course) the McLaren hat upon your head.

"You sure?"

"What do you mean, 'you sure?'?! Of course I'm sure!" he says with a little smile, his eyes returning back to your gaze. "But what made you decide to dress like a model today, anyway?"

You smile softly, glancing away, feeling comforted by his validation, before saying with a little shrug, "I don't know. Just felt like it." Most of the time, you just wear casual clothes: a McLaren shirt and hat, white jeans, and maybe sunglasses. So you can get how Oscar would be so shocked. You suppose you just weren't expecting this much of a reaction.

He brushes your cheek, saying, "You did your makeup differently, too, didn't you?"

"Yeah... is it too much?"

"Not at all. It's bold, but I like it."

You nod with a little relieved sigh. "You sure?"

He nods confidently. "Positive."

"Oh, good," another little smile creeps up on your face. "That's good to hear. Well, I guess I should leave you to your duties now, Oscar. See you later!" you begin to turn around to leave, but he suddenly grabs your hand to pull you back.

He gives you a quick kiss on your cheek and mutters, "Have fun, beautiful," before letting go of your hand again and letting you walk off.

"Oh! Oscar! Don't you think I would look pretty in this...?" you ask excitedly, tugging his hand, holding up a top on a clothes hanger. It's been two hours already of you dragging Oscar from store to store, buying and trying on clothes, simply because you wanted to apparently 'get more nice clothes to wear to F1 races,' and Oscar hasn't had the heart yet to suggest finishing up.

"Hm? Oh, yeah, I think you would..." he says, a bit distant, before snapping back into it and saying, "But red's not really your color. Not that you don't look good in it. You look good in everything you wear. I'm just saying-"

"No, no, I get it... I just remember Alex wearing something like this..."

"Alex?" Oscar asks, confused. "Alex who?"

"Oh, you know. Alexandra," when he just proceeds to look even more confused, you add, "Charles's girlfriend?"

"Oh..." Oscar nods as he realizes who you're even talking about, and shrugs, before saying after a few seconds, a bit confused, "Well, of course she'd be wearing red. She's Ferrari."

You crinkle your nose. "Do you really expect me to wear bright orange, Oscar?"

He snorts and says, "No. All I'm saying is that maybe she just wears red for Ferrari. I don't know, I'm not paying attention to her. I only pay attention to you, and though I think you look beautiful in red or not, either way, all I'm saying is that it's just not your color. Besides, you told me to be honest at the beginning of all this. I'm just trying to do what you want me to do. But in then end, I don't really care what you wear; you look amazing either way."

You frown, and suddenly groan, "I wish I looked good in red!"

Oscar smiles, still a bit confused at this complaint. "Why?" he asks earnestly.

You shrug, glancing back down at the shirt. "I dunno. Because Alex looks so good in red."

Oscar cocks his head a bit, apparently still not really understanding. "Who cares what Alexandra looks good in? Because I certainly don't."

You sigh, getting a bit exasperated. "I don't know! I guess I'm just trying to look pretty on the paddock, but I look sucky in all the lovely styles that everyone else always wears!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Oscar says, his hand immediately going to your shoulder. "First of all, you never, ever look sucky, no matter what you're wearing. Second of all, in my opinion, you're always the prettiest in the paddock, no matter who's there. And third of all, who says you have to wear the styles everybody else is wearing? I think your current style is perfectly lovely and fine and beautiful, but even if you do want to change it up, you can find your own. Or invent your own. You don't have to copy Alexandra, or whoever else."

But you only hear half of what he's really saying, and register nearly none of it, and the moment he stops talking, you hold up yet another red top (that honestly doesn't really look that different to Oscar), and say, "How about this one? It's a different shade," holding it up to yourself.

Realizing that this really isn't a battle he's going to win, Oscar just sighs, smiles, and nods, saying, "Actually, yeah. I like the fit would be good. And this color suits you a bit more, too." To him, it looks like the exact same color.

You grin, seeming much more pleased, "Oh, good! Can I go try it on?"

Oscar sigh a bit, smiling and shaking his head, murmuring, "M-hm, sounds good. Can't wait to see it on you, beautiful."

As you walk off to the changing room, Oscar thinks he hears you murmur something about how 'maybe you should just go more for Carmen's style.' Oscar's eyebrows just scrunch together at that, and as he sits down outside the changing rooms to wait for you to come show him, all he can think is, Maybe that's just the way girls are, and I really don't understand them after all.

The excitement of having some of the prettiest girls in the paddock complimenting your outfits is almost too much. The girls that you admire so much.

The ones that handle the fame and attention so well.

You feel like you're already doing better with all that stuff. Once you're convinced you look good, which usually takes at least a half hour of switching outfits, at least twenty reassurances from Oscar, and at least one outside person complimenting your appearance, you feel like a different person.

Like you could conquer the world!

Well, Oscar's not a very sensitive person, nor overly perceptive. It doesn't bother him that you seem to be a bit preoccupied. Not really. Sure, there are some times he wishes you were around when you're not, like you used to be, but he doesn't take it personally. He wants the best for you. And if the best of you is to distance yourself a bit in order to find yourself, or whatever you're doing, he trusts you. As long as you keep saying there's nothing wrong, and you're all good, he'll keep being the first person to believe it.

He just keeps sort of ignoring his intuition telling him that something is just off. Because you're not just growing. It's almost as if you're changing into a new person. Not the girl he asked out years ago. Not the girl he's fallen in love with. On the outside, on the paddock, in public, with all the cameras on you, you seem like the bubbly, friendly perfect type of girl with everything all right. You've never really been that type. Of course, you've always been happy, and to him, you're just perfect. But you've never been so camera hungry and extroverted like you seem to be now. You seem so confident in yourself, it almost seems fake. Though Oscar would never dare consider that thought anymore. It's just that in private, you seem to be the polar opposite of that: tired, quiet, let down. It's like the balanced girl he knew that was consistent nearly all the time has just switched to opposite extremes in different situations. And, well, Oscar has no idea why. He'd be lying if he were to say he wasn't concerned.

But he also can't see any way it'd be right to bring it up.

He just kind of misses the way it used to be. The way you used to be.

"Oscar!" his thoughts are suddenly interrupted by your voice and your footsteps entering the room. It's the early morning before he has to head to the paddock to begin the last race weekend of the season, and he's been laying in bed on his phone for a few minutes, waiting for you to get out of the hotel bathroom so he can have a quick shower.

"Yes?" Oscar asks, setting his phone down as you enter the room. You enter the room to show him your clothes, feeling slightly nervous, and unsure, like countless times before.

You twirl in your outfit, which consists of a white strapless top, dress pants, and black high heels. "How do I look?"

This has been going on for months, now. Probably about half the season. And in that moment, it just kind of snaps in Oscar's brain, and without thinking, and without being supportive like he always is, he decides that today, he's going to be honest. "Well, you look gorgeous. As always, of course, Y/n." He sits up and slips off the bed, before continuing practically, "But how thick are those pants? It's supposed to be killer hot today, and I'd hate for you to cook in those. I mean, they do make you look killer hot. They do look nice. And the high heels are lovely, but you always talk about how much your feet hurt after wearing those. Especially out on the paddock? And," he adds, reaching you, so he's nice and close to you, before picking up his McLaren cap off the hotel nightstand and sticking it on your head, "When did you stop wearing this hat, hm? I always thought you looked adorable in it."

You stare at each other for a few seconds, as if neither of you were expecting all that to come out of Oscar's mouth.

But what happens next is about the last thing Oscar would expect.

You take the hat off your head, throw it at his feet, turn on your heel, and walk straight out of that hotel room.

It all happens so fast, Oscar doesn't even have a moment to register what just happened and call you back before the door shuts behind you.

Ten unread messages from Oscar, and you don't even know why you're so mad, but the last thing you want to do right now is see him.

The first thing you want to do is think through it. Convince yourself he's wrong, and you're right.

He wants me to be a certain way for some reason, and it bothers him that I'm becoming who I want to be? So he just likes an ordinary girl with ordinary looks and ordinary fashion and an ordinary personality?

The truth is, you have no idea why he'd want that more than what you're trying to be.

Maybe he's just controlling? He just wants control over what you wear and how you act? But for the years you've dated him, he's never displayed qualities like those.

Then what is it? your brain screams, and for some reason, tears begin to fill your eyes.

And that's when a whisper of a thought dares to say, Doesn't Oscar want the best for you?

Is doing all this really the best for you?

But all the PR and popularity with fans it's brought you... it's so... validating.

But also so exhausting.

And when you come home at the end of the day, don't you want nothing more than to just take that mask off and destroy it?

You know how fake it is. It's like you work every day to make your mask become your face, but that will never happen, and that's painful.

You were happier before, but your outward 'success' was, like, close to nothing.

Do you really want this?

Can you even give up now?

With all the validation from the fans and media?

Maybe Oscar was a bit much today in the hotel. He was. But maybe he had a point, too...

It's like you can't stop. You keep it up for the rest of the weekend, even to Oscar, now, pretending everything is okay, and it's too much.

But you can't stop.

At the end of the weekend, though, after it's all said and done and you've had enough and all you want is to go to sleep and let your dreams sweep you away, everything in you wants to break down.

You need to be alone.

You need to be alone so you can finally be real.

And, of course, when you walk into the hotel room, there Oscar is, sitting by the window.

Just looking out of it.

"What are you doing?" you demand in slight confusion.

You see him look at you in the reflection of the glass. He doesn't even turn around.

Is this all I am now? Merely a reflection in the glass of the person I was to him?

"Looking out the window, and you?"

"That's all?"

He nods, before finally glancing back at you. Showing you his real, handsome face.

It's late, so late.

He just won his driver's championship, and all you want to do is fall apart.

Why isn't he more happy?

Probably just tired.

And here you are, with your nerve, saying, "Oscar, would you mind leaving?"

You see his eyes flash in confusion in the glass. Fear, even, maybe for just a second. He stands up and faces you, his hands going to your shoulders. "Leaving?"

"Just for... a bit."

"Why?" he demands.

"I need some alone time."

He stares, his eyes softening further, before murmuring, "Since when have you ever asked me for that? How many times have we been alone together?"

"Aren't I allowed some privacy, Oscar?"

"Isn't your whole life privacy, by now, Y/n?" It's not an accusation. It's a desperate question, that you have no answer to.

Because you don't want to say yes, but you can't say no. "Please, Osc..." you murmur, trying to keep it together. "I need this time."

"Darling..." he whispers, like a silent prayer.

Your stomach lurches. Why is he calling me that?

Doesn't he only talk like that when he needs me?

"Oscar, listen..."

"Please..." he whispers. "Let it go. At least for me. Don't you see this isn't good for you?"

"Oscar, I-" your voice cracks.

He sighs. "We don't have to talk. We don't have to lay together, or sit together, or be next to each other. We could be on completely opposite sides of the room as each other." He gulps, before adding, "Just let us be alone together. Like we used to always be, when it hurt, and we needed alone time, but we knew we'd both always be there when the other needed it. It's starting to feel so lonely out here without you, darling..." he stroke your cheek gently.

You gulp, fighting back tears.

"Take off those shoes, go put on your pajamas. Just relax, beautiful. Let your cover fall. I don't ever want to forget the you you are without it."

"Do you want me to cry?"

"Never."

"Then why-"

"Because I'd rather you cry if you need to than hold it in and let it rot the inside of you, love."

Love.

"That's the first time you've ever called me that..." you murmur as you slowly lean against the bed to slip off your shoes.

He smiles softly, which surprises you.

You quickly slip on pajamas, before crawling into bed, and murmuring, despite yourself, "Can you come over?"

And in seconds, Oscar's crawling into bed next to you, tucking the two of you in.

"Hold me."

"It's my pleasure," he responds softly, gently pulling you into his chest.

You lay there like that for a while, before whispering, your voice so weak, "Oh, God, Oscar... I'm so, so tired."

"I know you are, darling. I know." He kisses the tops of your head.

Your voice cracks a bit, and this time, you let the tear fall. "I just... I just felt like maybe I should've... been more like them. I'll admit it, I got jealous."

Oscar strokes your hair.

You swallow. More tears fall. "I just guess I felt like I wasn't good enough, but they all were."

"Good enough for what?"

You stare, the question lingering like a germ in the air. "For the media. For the fans. For every single person watching me every single race weekend."

He kisses your nose. "Pressure got to you. Did you ever feel like you weren't good enough for yourself?"

You swallow, shrugging. Nod a bit.

He sighs softly, nodding. Takes your hand and begins whispering, "I want you to know. You're worthy of every single kiss, every single hug, every single sigh, every single tear. You're worthy of every single star in the sky, every single drop in the ocean. You're worthy of laughter and sunshine and so, so much love. You're worthy of..." Oscar trails off, suddenly feeling an unexpected wave of emotion hit himself, before he gains his grip once more again and continues with, in merely a soft whisper, "You're worthy of all the joy and goodness in with world. And you'd know that if you knew how much joy and goodness you project into the world, without even trying, without even thinking about it." He swallows to keep his voice from cracking, and finishes with, "Please know, no matter what happens, or whatever anyone says, I'll always love you for who you are. I'll always be here to be your home. I want you for everything you are, and nothing that you feel you've ought to be. Because to me, you're perfect just the way you are. That is the kind of worth you have, and I wish you could see that, too."

The moment the last beautiful whisper of a word exits his mouth, you break down, fall into him, and cry. And he whispers about wiping away every single one of your tears, because you deserve none of the pain you're going through.

The fact that you've done all this, and brought it on yourself, and hurt him, and he stills says this.

Once your tears have subsided, Oscar smiles a bit, looking into your eyes like you're the most beautiful sunrise, or sparkling dew fresh in the morning, or the glimmer of the sun on the ocean, or any other beautiful thing that could fascinate even the coldest of people. And he whispers, wiping away the last of your stray tears, "Dress for no one but yourself, love. Be who you are. Because whatever you want to wear, you'll stun me. And I love you for exactly the person you are, nt the person you feel you ought to be. Whether you're in an evening gown with the most beautifully done makeup, or in your pajamas with tangled up hair, to me, you'll always, no matter what, be the most gorgeous, amazing, beautiful, perfect woman I have ever set my eyes upon."

Your breath catches in your throat. "Oscar, you..." You're utterly speechless.

He holds you close, and for the first time in months, you feel a certain peace envelop you.

You feel like you're home again.

Maybe all you needed was a good cry and the most perfect boyfriend any girl could ask for.

As your exhausted body gives itself away to slumber you hear Oscar murmur after gently kissing your scalp, "Can't wait to see you in my McLaren hat again, darling."

And you fall asleep with a smile on your face.

[mythmagicetc]

it's 2019, and eddie's in his kitchen, grabbing snacks while buck and chris color at the dining room table. buck's cast is set up on a chair, resting on pillows, and he said he was comfortable but eddie should check again when he heads back in. over the waxy scribbly sounds of their crayons, eddie hears them talking.

"were you scared?"

"hm? when?"

"when you hurt your leg."

"oh. hah. right." eddie can picture the way buck ducks his head, the self-deprecating grimace on buck's face. he smiles.

someone's stopped coloring. probably chris. when that kid has a question he does not let it go.

"so were you?"

buck makes a non-committal noise, weighing his options. how much of the truth to tell to a child so young, who recently lost his mother? is it better to hide your pain, or to make sure they know pain is okay? is it possible to do both? this one, eddie is still asking himself.

he trusts whatever buck decides to say, but he moves the bags of chips a little slower, trying to catch the words.

"yeah, buddy, i was scared. but your dad was with me, so i knew it would be okay."

oh.

that's sweet of him to say. like, really sweet. and eddie knows, of course he knows, buck is saying that for christopher's benefit, that it very much might not have been okay, whether eddie had been there or not. that eddie hadn't been, at first, and buck had been all alone, crushed and bleeding and on fucking video, jesus christ. that when they got to him, all eddie could do anyway was hold his hand, with a fucking glove on, for fuck's sake.

he doesn't know why it matters that he had to have a glove on. but it does matter, okay, it would've been different if they had been able to touch.

eddie looks at the ceiling, blinking back to the present moment. he tries to tune back in to what they're saying, make sure they haven't noticed he's gone quiet.

"that makes sense." oh, chris. "he's my hero."

"you wanna know a secret?" buck whispers, and eddie can't tell if he means for it to be loud enough for eddie to hear, or if buck just sucks at whispering.

"he's mine, too."

[berryispunk]

Insomniacs

pairing: Frankie Morales x f! reader

tags: friends to lovers, insomnia, mental health struggles (ptsd, depression), soft! Frankie, kissing, yearning, swearing, nicknames (hermosa), fluff, idiots in love, no smut, no physical description of reader apart from having hair

summary:  What if you can’t sleep and you call for your best friend to come over and suddenly everything changes ?

word count: 3,1 k

It’s nothing new that you can’t sleep. Dealing with various mental health stuff over the years and chronic pain on top, you should know better. 

You tried every sleeping aid under the sun; meditation, counting sheep, lavender on your pillow and melatonin. Nothing worked, so you started to build your life around it. Midnights became your afternoons to quote Taylor Swift. 

But you were creative, somehow still holding up the hope that it magically gets better or you’ll just get used to it. But it never happened. 

So tonight as the red numbers of your digital alarm clock illuminate your face, mocking you once again, you groan in frustration. You stare at the ceiling, watching the various colored lights of the cityscape dancing around and if you weren’t so damn defeated you would be able to find beauty in this, but you can’t. Not today. You reach for your phone charging on your nightstand and scroll mindlessly through social media. Minutes turn into an hour and you finally sit up in your bed, opening your messages app. It’s 2:30 a.m., who could possibly be awake at this hour? Your international friends? Yeah, for sure. But as you go through your various contacts you stop at one name, smiling to yourself as you press the call button. 

It takes three rings until a familiar deep voice fills your ears. 

“Hello?” the voice murmurs and you immediately feel guilty because you didn’t expect him to have been asleep. His voice sounds exhausted.

“Oh my god. Sorry Frankie, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” you apologize and he chuckles softly at the other end. 

“‘s alright, wasn’t really sleeping just… dozing off. What’s up, hermosa? It’s….” he pauses shortly. “It's, fuck, 2:32 at night. What is going on? Are you alright?” The worry in his voice is palpable and it’s one of the things you admire about him.

“Yeah, it’s the same old insomnia again and I figured why not call the one person that gets my pain?” you say apologetically and you can practically hear his smirk. 

“Us good old insomniacs, huh? Is it your brain or the pain this time?” he asks and you sigh heavily in response. 

“Probably a mix of both…” you sink deeper into your cushion. 

Frankie might be the only person you ever met who understands the struggles that come with lack of sleep. His military background and the resulting nightmares made him an ally in the cruel game that called itself life. The two of you spent countless nights like this, on the phone or texting, watching nonsense over whatever TV channel was on but you’ve never done one thing: late-night meetings. 

You weren’t sure if it was a secret agreement the both of you made that late night meetings were off-limits in all the time you’ve known each other, but tonight something felt different. 

“Hey Frankie?”

“Hm?”

“Why have we never met? At night, when we weren’t able to sleep… I mean, you only live on the other side of the city, not the world.”

The other end stays silent and you think you may have overstepped an up-to-now invisible line by asking. 

Then he clears his throat. “Would you want me to come over? You never asked and I never did, because no way in hell I let you wander alone through the night…” he clarifies and you can’t help but roll your eyes. Of course, ever the gentleman Frankie Morales did not want to risk your safety. 

“Well, what if I’d ask you to come over now?” You hear him swallowing heavily at the other end of line. 

You don’t even know why you’re wanting this all of a sudden, maybe you’ve finally lost your mind. It’s not like there isn’t some underlying tension between the two of you anyway. Mindless flirting and playful teasing is all part of your friendship. 

Frankie is way too trusting for his own good, getting screwed up by his lack of judgement concerning other people and his soft heart, even if he would never let the boys know. They would give him hell about it. But around you he’s let his guard down and you have deep conversations with him about all things going wrong and the few that haven't. He’s one of the few people who know about your troubled youth and strained relationship with your mother. You in turn are one of the few people that know the severity of his PTSD. 

He makes you feel heard like no guy has ever managed to do. He really looks at you when you’re talking and it always makes you feel giddy when he remembers little things you told him a while back. 

You like his attentive nature, but somehow you have never found yourself thinking of him as a potential partner, even if he’s awfully attractive with his broad shoulders and unruly dark curls. His million-watt smile that, if it’s honest, creates little wrinkles around his eyes and makes your own smile widen every damn time in return.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice strained and uncertain. 

“I am,” you say boldly even if you feel anything but.

Fuckin hell, why does your heart beat so fast? 

“Give me 20 minutes,” is the last thing you hear before the line goes dead. 

You immediately jump up from your bed and panic takes over. What were you thinking? What do you even expect to happen when he’s here? Or worse, what if he expects something to happen? No, he would never. It’s Frankie after all, he would’ve had plenty of chances to make approaches but he never has, always keeping a respectful distance. And now you wonder if he only kept it because you made it seem like you weren’t interested in more than a friendship? 

When you first met him, you actually had a little crush on him but held yourself back because you told yourself he was out of your league and he was in a relationship. Then they broke up, but he was in a new one only a few weeks later. It went on like that for a long time until you were taken. Your ex never liked the boys so you kept your distance and the estrangement grew until you broke up with the guy and picked up your friendships where you left off. 

It’s always been so easy to be with Frankie. You could be yourself around him, no need to pretend to be someone you’re not. He saw you in every state: drunk, crying, bed head and pajamas or all dolled-up for another unfulfilling date. He still looked at you the same and it gave you some sort of confidence you’re usually unable to muster. So right now you don’t even think about changing. You stay in your sleep shirt and shorts, no underwear whatsoever, because it doesn’t matter anyway. The only thing you do is brush your teeth and open the messy bun your hair has been in, making it fall loosely over your shoulders.

For a moment you wonder whether he wants anything specific to drink, but as you check your fridge you see that you have plenty of soda and beer - both beverages you know he enjoys. So you sit down on the sofa, only the soft dim light of the standing lamp in the corner illuminating the room and you grow nervous again. Why, you can’t tell. This isn’t different from all the other times you’ve met him, the only difference being it’s late at night. But then you remember the saying ‘nothing good happens after 2 am’ and you get restless all over again until a soft knock on the door announces his arrival. 

With a few quick steps you open the door, but only a crack and Frankie looks at you, tired brown eyes mustering you. He’s smiling as per usual and holds up a plastic bag. “I brought the pretzels you like so much.” 

You open the door all the way to let him in. He’s wearing grey sweatpants, the standard oil cap which has to be glued to his head at this point, and one of his worn-down band shirts. Sometimes you “borrow” one of them when he doesn’t notice. You’re actually wearing one right now. 

“Hi,” you grin as he places the plastic bag on the coffee table. 

“Hi yourself,” he grins back and his eyes wander over your figure for a moment as his smirk widens. “Is that my shirt?” he asks, one eyebrow raised questioningly. 

“Maybe,” you tease back, mirroring his smirk. “You want it back?” 

He shakes his head, lifting his signature cap to run a hand through his curls before he puts it back on. “Nah, looks better on you anyway,” he says and somehow it makes your cheeks turn a bit warmer.

“You want something to drink?” you ask, clearing your throat. 

“Yeah, a beer maybe? But please tell me you’ve got more than the muck from the gas station? Because that tastes like piss,” he complains and you laugh as you walk over to your kitchen, opening the fridge. 

“Well, good for you I have actual beer, some Corona even if you’re feeling fancy.”

“Oh, I feel very fancy, hermosa,” he laughs and leans over the kitchen countertop as you reach for the beer. You feel his gaze on your backside, but decide to say nothing. 

You place the beer on the counter, a soda in your hand, and the noise of it opening echoes loudly through the apartment. He opens his beer with a lighter before he takes the first sip. 

It’s quiet for a moment before you ask, “How’s that girl you were talking about last week? Cindy or what’s her name?”

He shrugs, a lopsided smile on his face. “You’re asking me about my dating life?” 

You frown, tilting the soda can in your hand before answering “Guess so.” 

“Didn’t see her again,” he simply states and something blooms inside of you. Is it relief?

“Ah, okay…” you say, trying not to let your emotions show too much. 

“And… you? How’s that guy you told me about? Jack?”

“Jacob,” you correct, not that it would matter. You met him once and it’s clear that he’s still very much in love with his ex-girlfriend.

“Yeah, Jacob, sorry,” he mumbles, rubbing his neck sheepishly. “How is he?”

“Guess he’s fine…I wouldn’t know, as I only went on a date with him once.”

“Oh.” “Oh?” you scoff and he chimes in with a chuckle. 

“Yeah, what else should I say? He didn’t seem like a good match for you.”

“You know, you never said that about any of the guys I dated.”

“They were all losers.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What?”

“Shit, I‘m sorry…” he babbles but your eyebrows are furrowed.

“So tell me who’s a good match for me then?” You glare at him. It’s infuriating that he even thinks he’s allowed to judge you when he clearly isn’t better with all the girls he’s dated in the past. 

“Someone who really cares for you and sees you for who you are. Someone who treats you right and would do anything to make you happy, you know…” He’s fiddling with the label on the beer bottle. You just watch him, too stunned to speak as his words strike a chord. You know he’s right and that makes it hurt even more. 

“Maybe I’m just not made for a relationship,” you sigh as you take another sip of your soda, mimicking his stance by leaning across from him against the counter. 

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” 

“So what? You’re gonna tell me that there’s someone for me whom I just haven't met yet? That I didn’t search long or hard enough? I am 28, Frankie. I am tired of being in the dating pool. I just want… “ you exhale defeatedly. “I just want someone to come home to and who’s as happy to see me as I am to see him.”

“I am happy to see you,” he says quietly and it makes your heart miss a beat. 

“Yeah, but that’s not the same and you know it.”

“Why not?” he asks back, your eyebrows shooting up as he finally looks up from the bottle in his hand and places it onto the next available surface. “You’re a smart girl, hermosa. Don’t tell me you don’t know?” There’s indignation in his voice.

“Don’t know what?”

With one big step he closes the distance between you, standing so close to you you can clearly smell the last bit of his perfume he’s probably worn during the day and most of all you can smell him. The earthiness, musk and warmth are weirdly comforting as he looks down at you. 

“Do I have to spell it out for you or can you feel it as well?” he murmurs when you finally have the courage to meet his gaze, his eyes dark and searching. 

“Frankie, I–”

Suddenly he’s so close, so all-consuming it makes it hard to think. 

“Tell me you don’t feel it and I stop,” he whispers. You feel his breath on your face and the warm feeling inside your chest spreads further. 

Of course you’ve felt that way before, but you didn’t think too much about it, not wanting to risk this friendship that's so important to you. 

“I won’t,” you croak out and he smirks in response, the cocky smile he always has when he is certain about something. 

“Figured,” he continues before adding, “So tell me, how many of these dickheads do you want to date until you give the one guy a chance that really cares about you?” 

“But.. We are…”

“Friends? Yeah, and I want to be so much more than that to you. Do you really think I would drive through the city at this ungodly hour for just anyone?”

You search for his eyes again, slightly blushing and shaking your head. 

He starts playing with a lock of hair, curling it around his thick fingers which makes you incredibly nervous.

“I woke you up, didn’t I? And now you stand here at 3 in the morning… I feel horrible.”

“Well, I don’t. I’m glad you invited me over. Who needs sleep if I can be with you instead?”

You smile at that. 

“I’m still sorry.”

“No need,” he assures you. “There’s no place I’d rather be right now…” 

And his voice drips with honesty as his eyes lock with yours and the intensity of his gaze paired with his words make your breath hitch. Your eyes flick onto his plush lips which look so much more kissable up close and you bite your own lips. He mirrors the movement and suddenly his big hand rests on your cheek, his thumb caressing your cheek bone as he pulls you a tiny bit closer. You reach for his cheek in return, his patchy stubble tickling your hand and you part your lips as he takes the cue, dips his head and his lips are only a hair's breadth away from yours. 

“Can I kiss you now?” he whispers hoarsely against your lips and you just nod in agreement.

His lips capture yours in a soft, tentative kiss and your stomach does somersaults. You’ve wondered in the past what kissing him would feel like, but nothing could’ve prepared you for this. He knows exactly what he’s doing, his lips moving with purpose without being overbearing. The softness of his lips is a stark contrast to the slight scratch of his stubble against your skin. You practically melt into the kiss and you’re certain that no one has ever kissed you like this, so soft but purposefully determined it makes your head spin.

You tangle your hands in the soft locks on the ape of his neck as you deepen the kiss. He’s parting his lips voluntarily so you can invade his mouth with your tongue as his hand wanders from your cheek into your hair, cradling the back of your head. He presses you against the counter with his body weight as his other hand wanders to your hip, his fingers digging into the tender flesh under his shirt. As your tongues dance feverishly his breathing gets uneven, panting into the kiss and you can’t help but smile softly that he gets so worked up over a kiss. 

“You okay?” you whisper as you part to breathe, your foreheads touching. 

“Yeah,” he breathes “It’s just.. Fuck, I’ve wanted this for so long so I wanna get this right.”

You take his head between your hands, your thumbs stroking his cheeks now. 

“You’re doing everything right, Frankie,” you smile softly and his face lights up.

“Can I maybe take you out on a date first before I ravish you right here in your kitchen?”

You can’t help but laugh at that, an honest laugh not many people are able to elicit from you. 

“I’d love that,” you say softly and nuzzle your nose against his while his thumb draws small circles over your hip where your shirt rode up. 

Suddenly the tiredness comes back to you as you yawn heavily and he creates some distance to be able to look at you. 

“Do I bore you, hermosa?” “No!” you quickly protest. “But I’m tired all of a sudden…”

“No shit, it’s late. Let’s get you into bed, yeah?” 

He takes your hand and leads you to your bedroom where you fall headfirst into the pillow with a groan. 

“Frankie?” you call for him, lifting your head up slightly, his name suddenly sounding so big in the quietness of the night. 

“Yeah?” you hear faint footsteps as if he’s about to leave and the thought makes you sad.

“Would you mind staying?”

It’s deadly quiet for a moment before you hear the rustling of sheets and his weight next to you on the mattress. “Not at all,” he murmurs softly and you scoot closer to him, cuddling into his side as he puts his arm around your shoulders, his chin resting against your head. It feels so natural. It feels like coming home. You yawn and close your eyes again. 

“Thank you,” you murmur softly as your hand rests on his chest. 

“Anytime,” he says and then adds, “And just for the record, her name was Clara.”

“What?” 

“The girl I was on a date with, her name was Clara not Cindy. Not that it’d matter anyway because the only person I go on dates with from now on will be you,” he chuckles softly and you grin widely, even if he can’t see it. 

“Good to know,” you say sleepily and for the first time in weeks you drift off into a deep, restful sleep.

my masterlist - in case you're hungry for more :)

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[mranimalhead]

Something popped into my head and idk how original this is but I'm putting this here to get it off my shoulders. Hope it's interesting.

* * *

Human: Watching various animations on the internet.

Alien: Your people have some great artistic talent. I wonder how much the artists of your world will expand in endeavor once artistic technology trading is agreed upon...

Human: I bet it's gonna be wild.

Alien: Indeed it will be.

Human: Opens a video. Ooh! I like these ones. They're really cool.

Alien: . . . This is an animation, yes?

Human: Huh? Well, yeah, it is. Just some two dudes fighting.

Alien: Right...you sure it's not an exaggerated documentary?

Human: What? No. Why would it be?

Alien: Hm. Well, because...those are a real race.

Human: Seriously? Stick figures? Stick figures are aliens?

Alien: Yes.

Human: Why haven't we heard of this?

Alien: Well they are classified as deathworlders like you, though other sentients in the science community are still comparing if you or these...stick figures, are more formidable. But as the reason to why...well, they did attack us first and we decided they are best left alone in their solar system in a constant war zone.

Human: So...all of them can do this? Points to video.

Alien: No, not all of them. Just the colored ones. Though the black ones can either be martial fodder or one of the special ones. Same with the grey ones. The grey and black ones tend to be more cooperative and build cities. But when the colored ones tend to get into fights with other colored ones, it's...they make a mess out of everything.

Human: And you didn't establish relationship with the grey and black stick figures?

Alien: A cyan stick figure was sent flying by a red one and caused our diplomatic ships to explode before landing.

Human: Yikes. Someone should do something about that.

Alien: Human ships are more sturdy though. Maybe if we send humans there, things might actually go forward.

Human: Yeah. Hopefully that will happen.

. . .

Alien: The animation is really cool though.

Human: Told you.

[gothamite-rambler]

Catwoman’s reaction meeting the first Robin

I think we can all agree that while the first Robin proved himself as a hero, especially when he became Nightwing—people still find it a bit odd. This goes double for Gotham's rogues, who used to deal with a man in a batsuit. Sure, Robin can fight and be awesome—I'm not taking that away from Dick Grayson’s Robin—but let's be real: he definitely gives off that “aww!” vibe. I mean, who wouldn’t question why Batman has a child sidekick dressed like that? Bruce did try to keep Dick from being a sidekick, and in some canons, they even begged him to wear pants! But it’s still a bit strange.

To our story…

Catwoman stared at the young boy clad in brightly colored spandex, swaying back and forth with curiosity and bemusement. The warm smile on his face drew Selina’s attention, prompting her to lift her goggles for a better look.

Catwoman: Now… this is… hm. Yeah, that’s all I can say to this.

Her confused stare quickly shifted to Batman, whose weary expression indicated he had anticipated her reaction since it was the fifth one this month.

Catwoman: I owe like five villains twenty bucks each.

Robin (waving): Hi!

Catwoman smiled and waved back at the child sidekick, but the high-pitched tone of his voice confirmed her suspicion as she pointed at him.

Catwoman (pointing at Robin): That’s a… he’s a child.

Batman: He’s my sidekick.

Catwoman (her seductive voice dropping to concern): Your sidekick is a child. All you did was confirm he’s a child!

Batman: It should not matter.

Catwoman: Did you… sweet Jesus, did you kidnap him?

Batman: No! Tell her no.

Robin looked around, grinning, weighing whether to confirm or deny the accusation of his father. He tilted his head, awaiting Batman’s reaction.

Batman (thinking): Don't shout; he’s just a kid.

Batman (relenting): I’ll buy you the stupid toy!

Robin (smiling): He’s my dad and has raised me well.

Catwoman (trying to process this): Great, fantastic... he just said “dad.” He’s your kid!

Batman (hesitating): Ye- Yes.

Catwoman: Why are you babysitting at a time like this? While I’m somewhat mentally stable and wouldn’t hurt a child, don’t you deal with psychos like the Joker?

Batman: That doesn’t mean anything. Can people stop focusing on the fact I have a nine-year-old sidekick?

Catwoman (shocked): He’s nine?!

Batman (regretfully): In hindsight, I realize that wasn’t the best defense.

Robin (in an adorable voice): My birthday was a few months ago! I’m Robin, and I can do flips and tricks! I promise I won't hurt you too bad, ma'am.

Catwoman dropped her whip and clasped her hands together, admiring the adorable young sidekick with rosy red cheeks and a bright smile. Robin waved at her again, still confused.

Catwoman: Maybe it’s because I’ve been going through baby fever, or maybe it’s just how cute he looks in that little hero suit, but he’s not a mean little gremlin... he’s so precious!

Batman (his fatherly instincts kicking in): You aren’t raising him.

Robin stuck his tongue out at Batman, who shook his head in annoyance. Catwoman’s smile widened.

Catwoman: He’s not afraid of you, either. At least I hope so. Why you’ve got such a precious little child concerns me… but just look at him! Look at him in that suit.

Batman looked at Robin, then back at Catwoman, realizing this was worse than he had anticipated. She was about to hug him!

Robin (blushing, holding his head down): Huh? Aww, thank you!

Catwoman rushed over, scooping Robin up and spinning him around gleefully. Batman stood aside, perplexed and frustrated.

Catwoman (cooing): I can’t believe how adorable this possibly kidnapped child is! Do you know how cute you are, little one?

She held Robin in front of her, and he smiled with his eyes closed, soaking up the affection. Catwoman planted a kiss on his cheek before gently placing him back on the ground.

Robin stood there, looking like he’d rather not continue the fight. He usually didn’t enjoy being treated like a child while crime-fighting, but Catwoman felt different.

Robin: Batman, let her go. She’s sweet.

Batman: I should’ve waited until you turned thirteen; you’d be edgy and not adorable.

Catwoman: You stay here, Robin. I’m going to have a word with Batman… privately.

Batman (exasperated): Not again.

Robin (staying put): Okay! I’ll stand here and keep watch.

Catwoman walked over to Batman, gripping his arm and pulling him a good distance from Robin.

Catwoman: I’ve enjoyed our game of cat and bat, but why? Why a child? Why the costume? If you’re a child abuser, I won’t hesitate to—

Batman (offended): No! No! You are not finishing that statement. He is my son and I take good care of him. He wanted to be Robin; he picked the suit! He’s built for this! AND I AM NOT A CHILD ABUSER!

Catwoman rolled her eyes, leaning to the side to glance back at Robin, who waved eagerly.

Catwoman: Is he telling the truth?

Robin: Yeah, I really wanted this job! I had to beg him!

Catwoman (glaring at Batman): This is still off-putting to me, and that’s saying a lot. I’m in league with other villains, but those are bad guys like me you're supposed to be some type of hero. Although most heroes don't go for wearing a bat themed suit. There's this guy called Green Arrow who-

Batman: Don't speak his name into this conversation! This is different. I—lo—care about him.

Catwoman (suspicious): Hmm, I heard you had a child sidekick, but I thought it was a rumor or that you had a little person, not an actual child who can fight.

Batman: Why do you people keep ignoring the fact that he he can fight! I’m not using him for target practice or letting him be a punching bag, like half the villains claim! He's taken down half of them, so of course they’d lie about him being an innocent baby.

Robin (hopping up and down): I bit the Joker three times so far!

Catwoman: Okay, that’s good to know. I hate the Joker way more than I find you annoying, so I’m willing to believe your defense. The thing is that if you’re lying to me, we’re not going anywhere.

Batman: What do you mean? I'm arresting you.

Catwoman: Not that, Batsy. I’m a fabulous cat burglar, and you want to ‘catch’ me, but if you’re the type of creep that would be on a list, we can’t possibly be together, and I will not hesitate to deal with you myself. I will protect children, no matter what.

Robin: Batman, I can see why you have a crush on her!

Batman (blushing): What? I’m not into her! I'm not into you— Back to the what you said. I came to arrest you, and you’re judging me?! Are you rejecting me if I did want you, which I don’t!

Robin giggled, enjoying the tension between them.

Catwoman: Batsy, I have standards. If you’re a creepy prude, then I wouldn’t dare be with you. Which is saying a lot for a man like you. Know what I mean?

Batman: No. Explain.

Catwoman: You’re wearing a leather bat suit.

Batman: You’re wearing a sexy leather cat suit! You can’t judge me when you’re walking around like a vixen of the night!

Catwoman smirked, crossing her arms while Robin giggled at his father’s fumble.

Catwoman (holding her tail): I didn’t mention “sexy” with yours. 'Vixen of the night' is a good description for me. If you want me to—

Batman (stammering, blushing): I— I’m not doing this! You’re under arrest, and I reject you! There, I said it!

Catwoman: Oh, all right, take me in, Batsy. But if you harm a hair on that angel’s head, I will chop it off!

Batman (annoyed as he turned Catwoman forward): Just walk forward and stop calling me Batsy.

Catwoman shrugged with a playful smile and walked ahead. Robin scurried over to Batman.

Robin: Batman, don’t yell at the nice cat burglar.

Batman (embarrassed): Robin, not now.

[xxblairexxss]

I’ll be back before 10

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader

Theme : Angst

In which Pierre forced Charles to go out on a date behind your back but he didn’t want to betray your love.

I’m so sorryyy this was so sad I cried a few times while writing it but I’m not sure if it’s worthy of your tears because I’m an emotional human being I cry at everything. Not proofread!

“How many times do I have to tell you, the answer is no.”

Pierre groaned and leaned his head back against the coach. “There’s nothing wrong with it, dude! Come on! Live your life a little.”

“I can’t, Pierre. I can’t betray her.” Charles threw his body on the couch and turned on his phone to look at your picture that he had made as his wallpaper for the longest time ever. The picture was a candid picture of you looking cozy in his oversized hoodie and a packet of gummy, your favourite kind of gummy in your hand.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

“Baby, smile!” The flash went off before you could even catch what he was saying. “Perfect. I’m gonna make this as my wallpaper.”

“No! I bet I look ugly. Should have told me you were taking a picture so I can give you my model face.”

“Model face? Since when is my girlfriend a model? Hm?” Charles cackled. He took a bite from the gummy on your hand and poked you on your waist. He loved tickling you, the sound of your giggle will always be his favourite. He should have recorded it so he won’t forget what it sounded like.

“Stop making me laugh!” You tried to make a run but he had locked you in his arms and continued tickling you.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

“You are not betraying her.”

“Don’t. Please don’t talk as if you knew what she would say.” This is the sixth times Pierre had come to ask him to agree on a date though Charles had already declined the offer the first time he asked.

“There’s nothing wrong with it!”

“Everything is wrong with it, Pierre! Which part of I can’t betray her did you not get? I can’t betray Y/N.”

Pierre exhaled deeply. He had tried so hard to bring his friend to branch out and meet new people but every time he asked, he would get rejected. Now that he mentioned a girl name, Charles became more defensive. He didn’t even suggested it to be a date, it was just a proper hang out, got to know each other’s hobbies, favourite foods, favourite colors but Charles hated every idea if it involved a girl because of the same reason, he can’t betray you.

“No one’s forcing you to date her. It wasn’t even a date! I was just asking you to go out, hang out, and come home. No hands or whatsoever.”

Charles shook his head in annoyance. “You’ll never get it.”

“Fine, I’ll be there. I’ll bring Kika. I’ll ask Kika to bring any other friends she has. We’ll make it a school trip even.” Pierre saw the was Charles stop scrolling on his phone and he grinned because he knew his words had gotten his friend’s attention. Sure, Charles wouldn’t change his decision right away but at least this gave him a little hope. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow. No excuse this time.”

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

“Faster, faster! We need to go home before 10!” You pulled on his hand eagerly while the event was still ongoing.

“I know, baby. Let me tell Pierre I’ll take my leave first.” He intertwined your hand with his and made his way to his best friend that was too engrossed in a conversation.

“Y/N and I will get going first.”

“You guys always take a leave before 10. What’s with the curfew? Couldn’t wait to have your own private show on the bed?”

“Something like that.” Charles replied to which your cheeks went red as you slapped him on his arm.

Pierre cackled at the couple then went on to hug you and kissed on your cheek. “Goodbye, then. I’ll see you soon, yeah? Tell Charles not to go too rough.”

“Very funny, Pierre. Bye! I’ll see you soon. Let’s go, honey!” You turned around and took the lead as you guys left the event.

“I don’t know why you always want to watch the movie from the television channel programme when we have everything ready to watch on our Disney and Netflix account.” Charles had laid down on the cozy couch after he changed from a formal suit to a cozy outfit and opened his arms to welcome you in his embrace as he saw you walked to the living room with his hoodie.

“I know but it felt like a surprise, no? Every weekend they would play a random movie with a random genre. It was mystery the last two weeks. Last week was horror. There’s no surprise element if we choose our own movie.” You made yourself comfortable on his chest and pecked on his stubble.

“Whatever you said, baby. Pierre really thought we needed to come home early for a spicy stuff when my girlfriend right here is just a huge fan of movies.” Charles laughed remembering the way his best friend looked at him suspiciously when he was leaving the event earlier.

“I know! You should have denied him. Oh, I place my bet on comedy tonight!” You laughed along.

“Nah, I think it’s gonna be horror again!”

“That’s impossible! They won’t play horror twice in a row!”

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

Charles felt so bad. So, so bad. There was a tiny spot in his heart that felt some sort of excitement for what was gonna happen in 10 minutes once Pierre picked him up. He couldn’t believe he would be excited doing things behind your back but Pierre basically forced him, telling him that this was gonna worth it. Plus, it was just a casual hang out. No touching, no kissing. Just making new friends.

Charles fixed his hair in front of the mirror and received a text from Pierre saying he’s arriving in 2 minutes. He took out his phone and turned it on to see his wallpaper, a picture of you, his favourite picture of you and found himself smiling fondly at it. He stroked his thumb on the screen, feeling himself growing enamoured at your bright smile in the picture.

“I hope you don’t mind, Y/N. Pierre said you wouldn’t mind seeing me making new friends. I’ll be back by 10, I promise. I wonder what genre are they choosing for today. Last week it was comedy. What do you reckon? I place my bet on comedy again.” He tilted his head up and forced himself to look at the ceiling to stop his tears from spilling off his eyes. “You will always be my girl, Y/N. Always. Wait for me, okay?”

“Dude, you ready?” Pierre walked in and set his hand on Charles’s shoulder to give it a squeeze.

“Yeah, I am. But Pierre, I can’t be late—”

“I know, Charles. I’ll send you home before 10.” Pierre would make sure the hang out will end before the curfew. Having successfully forced his friend to go out on weekend was enough, he couldn’t force him to do anything more than that. He knew it will be a slow step but he will be with Charles within every step he took because he knew you would want to see him happy and learn how to live without you. Even when you were no longer by his side.

Once they stepped out of the apartment, Pierre looked up to the orangy hue in the sky. He knew you were looking out for him, you would always look out for him from above. Charles had told him the sky had always looked beautiful after you passed away. It was as if heaven gained another angel, his angel, along with a piece of his heart and kept it up in the sky for him to keep on reminding himself that you were still here with him, far, distant, but still with him.

“I’m sure you don’t mind me taking Charles away this weekend. You would have wanted this for him too, wouldn’t you? I promise your man is safe with me, Y/N but please, keep on watching him from up there. It gives him the comfort and peace that no one else could give, not even me.”

[mattyriddlesbitch]

Yule Ball (Chapter Six)

Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of fighting, I think that's it

Posting early since I forgot to do this earlier

The Yule Ball was only hours away and you and the rest of the girls in your dorm were getting ready, putting on makeup and doing each other’s hair, helping zip each other’s dresses up. It was chaos, the dorm was a mess from all the clothes and shoes and accessories thrown about as some of the girls made last minute changes to their outfits. Lots of ‘Does this look good?’ and ‘How does this look?’ was being asked over the music playing. It was definitely the most active and chaotic the dorm had ever been since you started. Even the first and last nights of the school year were calmer.

You finally finished getting ready, looking at yourself in the mirror. The dress was gorgeous, the shoes matched perfectly, your makeup and hair were done perfectly. Honestly, you never felt more beautiful, but you were still nervous. Why were you nervous? It’s just Mattheo.

You didn’t have much time to think about it since one of the girls called your name to join in some photos they were taking to remember the night.

After the photos, you all headed to the Great Hall to meet your dates. You were so focused on not tripping on the stairs from your dress or heels, you didn’t notice Mattheo at the bottom just staring at you in awe. He offered his hand to you on the last few steps and you finally looked at him and smiled, taking his hand as he helped you down the rest of the way.

“Hi, Matty.” You said when you finally stood in front of him.

“Hi, princess.” He copied. The lack of words would’ve put you off if it wasn’t him you were talking to.

“That's a nice suit.” You smiled as you looked down at the suit, noticing the tie color matching your dress.

“Thank you. I like the dress.” He said, making you look back up at him.

“You get into another fight since I last saw you?” You asked, noticing the cut along the bridge of his nose.

“Maybe.” He shrugged.

“So, what should I expect tonight? Are we dancing or just hanging with your friends or what?” You asked, still smiling at him.

“Do you wanna dance with me?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.

“I feel like that’s kinda the point of having a date to a dance, so yeah.” You nodded.

“Fair point.” He said, offering his arm. “Come on. We better get in if we wanna see Potter make a fool of himself.”

“Oh, right. He gets to dance in front of everyone.” You take his arm and he leads you both into the Great Hall.

After a few minutes, the champions of the Tri-Wizard tournament came in with their dates and danced. People slowly started to join them and Mattheo led you to dance with him. He placed a hand on your waist and his other hand held one of yours, your free hand going to his shoulder as he led you two to the music.

“Wow. You actually know how to dance, like really well.” You said, a bit surprised.

“Is it that much of a surprise? We were forced to learn anyways.” He said, smiling ever so slightly, like he was happy he surprised you.

“Fair point.” You said, repeating him from earlier. Each house had their own dance lessons earlier, and it definitely wasn’t optional.

“I did also learn when I was younger. My mother forced me to learn.” He said, his smile growing slightly.

“Oh, really?” He surprised you yet again, making you smile at him. You liked learning these little tidbits about him.

“You don’t believe me?”

“Hm. I’m not sure. I’d love for it to be true though.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because it’d be funny to imagine you in dance lessons.” You teased, and this time he actually chuckled.

He took the opportunity to catch you off guard and spun you before bringing you back to him, continuing to dance with you.

“Mock me all you want, at least I know how to dance. More than I can say about most of the guys here.” He said, letting go of your hand to place it on his shoulder, moving his to your waist, bringing you a bit closer as you danced.

“How old were you when you started these dancing lessons?” You smiled at him, seeing if you could get more information out of him.

“I was nine. But the teacher gave up after a few weeks.”

“What did you do? You didn’t curse them did you?” You joked.

“Maybe I did.”

“Surprised they lasted a few weeks then.”

“She was stubborn.”

“Seems like you learned something, though. It’s cute. Thinking of little nine year old you being forced to learn how to dance.” You laughed.

He just smiled at your laugh as he continued to guide you in the dance.

After a few songs, he guided you over to a table to rest and the other boys slowly gathered with you two. All the boys were joking around and their dates were gossiping, it really seemed like everyone was having a good time. It honestly was the happiest you can recall seeing Mattheo. He was laughing and smiling with his friends. You even watched and laughed as they danced together during a few of the line dances and fun songs. You really couldn’t think of another time you saw Mattheo smile this much.

He pulled you from your seat to join them in dancing. You laughed together as you danced to the music, just having fun, wrapping your arms around each other. He kept you dancing with him through the slow songs and the upbeat ones, swaying and spinning you, or just dancing while singing the songs to each other.

This was a version of Mattheo you really loved. A version you could really fall in love with.

No. That wouldn’t work out.

You quickly shook that thought from your head as you kept yelling the lyrics of the current song playing to each other.

“I wanna show you something.” Mattheo said in your ear during one of the songs so you could hear him.

You nodded and he led you out of the Great Hall by your hand.

“Where are we going?” You asked once you were in the hall where it was much quieter.

“Somewhere. Just be quiet if you don’t wanna get caught.” He said before putting a finger over his mouth as he looked at you over his shoulder.

You cursed him out in your head, knowing you were doing something that could get you in trouble, but still followed him.

He led you through the castle, up the stairs and down some hallways before getting to the final staircase that led to the Astronomy Tower.

“We’re not supposed to be up here this late.” You whispered to him but he just smiled at you.

He guided you over to the balcony and gestured to the view. “Yeah, but isn’t this worth it?” He said, looking at your face for your reaction.

You could see the lake and the landscape and, of course, the night sky. “Wow…” You breathed out. You’d been up here before, but not at night and not when all the stars were out. It was breathtaking.

His smile grew at your reaction as he turned his head to look at the view, leaning forward on the balcony railing.

“So how often do you come up here?” You asked after a moment of silence.

“A few times a month, at least.” He shrugged, looking back at you. “It’s quiet. And it’s away from everyone.”

“I can see why you  like it.” You nodded before looking over at him. “No people, it’s calming and pretty.”

“Don’t tell anyone about this. I would hate for my spot to be ruined by everyone else.” He said with a small smile.

“I won’t.” You smiled back. “Why’d you show me then?” You asked, curiosity getting the better of you.

He shrugged, looking back out at the night sky. “I don’t know. I don’t mind you here.”

You didn’t comment on that, not wanting to dig too much deeper into it. “I had a lot of fun tonight.”

“Yeah?” He straightened up and turned to face you, leaning his hip against the railing. “I had a lot of fun too.”

“I’m glad I went with you. I’m not sure I would’ve had that much fun with someone else.”

He smiled again at that. “Me too. I think that was the most fun I’ve had in…a long time.”

You smiled back at him. “I liked that. I liked how happy you looked.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t expecting to actually enjoy it, but…” He shrugged again.

You leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, Matty. For a fun night.”

“Yeah. Of course.” He said, watching as you leaned back down.

You smiled at each other for a moment before you spoke up. “It’s getting late. I should, uh, get to bed. As much fun as that was, my feet are killing me.” You chuckled.

“Right, yeah. Well, come on then, princess. Let’s get you to bed.” He said, gesturing you towards the stairs before helping you make your way down them so you don’t trip.

Chapter 5

Chapter 7

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[mc-lukanette]

Luka knew that Marinette was Ladybug. Actually, he'd known for a while. What he didn't know was how long Marinette had known that he knew.

She didn't tell him so, but he saw it in how she reacted to him. She didn't feel as much need for excuses, often not saying anything before racing off as soon as there were signs of an akuma. He hadn't particularly done anything to dissuade the idea that he knew either, partly because it was true but also because he wasn't sure what to do with the information himself.

When he was certain she knew was a day on the Liberty where he'd found her idling on her phone. The other girls had headed up onto the deck, but Marinette had remained in the lounge room for whatever reason and he was genuinely curious about it.

"What are you doing?" he asked, stepping up to her and slipping his hands into his pockets.

"Luka!" She giggled innocently. "I didn't know you were here! You weren't playing anything."

"I was meditating," he said, though eyed her body language with suspicion. Her logic for not knowing he was around checked out, but he felt as if she wasn't telling the truth. He only ignored it because he couldn't figure out why she would lie about it.

"Oh. I'm just playing a new game that came out." She raised her phone as close to his face as she could.

He noted the main menu and the characters strewn about, recognizing them instantly as the superheroes that fought against akuma, such as Ladybug and even himself. He tilted his head to look past the phone at her, asking, "What's it about?"

She scooched to the side despite the already available space on the couch, then patted the spot where she'd been sitting. He wasn't a big fan of gaming himself, but he was a big fan of Marinette, so he sat in the spot she'd offered up and listened intently to her talk.

"You pick one character to start," she explained, indicating the various options on-screen, "and then the more levels you play, the more coins you get, and you can use it to buy upgrades or more characters."

"You buy characters?" He blinked.

She laughed, giving him a playful nudge in the arm. "You really don't play games, do you?"

His heart stuttered as she squished herself against him, allowing both of them a decent view of her phone. She tapped at the screen to proceed to the actual game and he tried very hard to focus on that and not the warmth to his side.

"It helps when you get a second character. You can pair them up and go on for longer since it's two instead of just one," she explained as she scrolled through various menus.

Luka also tried to not focus on the phrase 'pair them up,' which wasn't difficult at first, but then he saw the character selection screen and—

"Ladybug and Viperion," he noted.

"Hm~?" She stopped scrolling to point at the two. "Yeah, they're the pair I have."

"Only Ladybug and Viperion." That still wasn't a proper sentence, so he clarified, "You only have Ladybug and Viperion."

"Oh." She uttered it like she hadn't known when she definitely did. "Yeah? You only need two, so why should I waste my coins on anyone else when I could spend it upgrading the pair I have?"

He could think of multiple reasons. He wasn't sure how the game worked, but he imagined that the superheroes still had different powers and there were benefits depending on which two were paired up.

As if reading his mind, Marinette tapped the top edge of her phone to her chin and insisted, "Viperion's underrated. His power's not flashy, but it's really useful and he's perfect for someone like Ladybug."

His cheeks felt warm. What she was saying sounded like a casual observation of efficiency, but her voice was singing a different tune. The playful sparkle in her blue eyes as she peered up at him supported that.

"Really?" he asked quietly.

"Mhm~" She looked down at her phone again, then turned it to him to show the Ladybug and Viperion on the screen. "Their colors are even complementary. Don't they look good together?"

Never mind. His face felt hot. She even wiggled the phone at him, her smile shy but her gaze not leaving his as she waited for an answer.

Was this a punishment of sorts? Was he being tormented for not saying that he knew her identity? Was she really asking him such a thing when she already knew his feelings? Had she planned this, and that's why she was alone?

He opened his mouth, then decided he needed another second to think and cleared his throat instead. "Wouldn't that be up to them?"

It seemed like an obvious answer, but her smile widened further as if he'd passed a test. He didn't think she was actually testing him, but something of his did certainly feel tested: his sanity.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Marinette sighed, pulling away from him to slump against the backrest. Taking one more look at her phone and scrutinizing the image on the screen, she asked, "Do you think Viperion would be patient enough for someone like her?"

Caught off guard, he turned his body to better face her. "What?"

"For Ladybug. She must be busy since she's always dealing with akuma," she pointed out, waving a hand outwards, "so they wouldn't be able to date until she's dealt with Hawk Moth."

For a second, he thought she was continuing to tease him, but then it clicked for him what she was building to. She'd been playful, yet was using the conversation to tell him that they wouldn't be able to date.

Which meant that she reciprocated, something his brain was still scrambling to process, but she also felt like she couldn't act upon it due to Hawk Moth. Talking about Ladybug and Viperion as separate entities had been to keep things safe in case any of the girls returned while serving as a way of mentally distancing herself from it. It was an unpleasant realization to wrestle with against the delight of knowing that she felt the same as he did.

"I'm..." He reached over, slipping his hand over the one holding her phone. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind, no matter how busy she was."

To his confusion, she shook her head almost adamantly. He wondered if perhaps she was going to argue that 'Viperion' wouldn't mean it if he was to say such a thing, but she instead said, "I think Ladybug would want better for him than that; she'd want to be able to put herself into the relationship without Hawk Moth in the way." She stared at their hands on her phone with a soft smile. "Besides, I bet it'd be a motivator."

He leaned closer, noting how her voice had lowered in volume. "How?"

With a sheepish giggle, she replied, "Wouldn't Ladybug want to defeat Hawk Moth that much more if she knew the reward was getting to ask her future boyfriend out?"

His heart pounded, his hand on hers giving off a slight shake. What had started as a bit of joking around had grown into something more heartfelt and serious, with him suddenly wondering if Ladybug could use any of his input on how to best find out Hawk Moth's identity.

Chuckling affectionately yet with just as much longing as her, he promised, "If Ladybug is even half as amazing as he already thinks, Viperion will beat her to it when Hawk Moth's gone."

[fem-floral]

New Year, New Me - Grizzy x Reader

cw: kissing, drinking, reader wearing makeup/female presenting reader

AN: Happy New Year's everyone! Currently quarantined with COVID so what better to do with my time than write! Wishing you all a happy, healthy, and amazing 2025!

-

Jaime: Having a party for New Years tonight, wanna come?!

You: Ummmm sure? Who’s gonna be there?

Jaime: Just me and the boys, Smii7y, John, Blarg, Rectrix, Tuxy and their girlfriends

You: Yeah that sounds fun! I’ll get ready and head over

Jaime: Bet, see you soon

You loved a message

Well, there goes my plans for a quiet New Years. I was never one to go all out for New Years; I liked curling up on the couch, watching the ball drop with a glass of wine. But my New Year’s resolution was to not isolate myself as much so… why not go hang with my best friend.

Jaime, now known as the infamous Elastic Droid, and I go way back. We grew up in Dallas together and when he told me he was moving to Austin with his friends, I decided to have a change of scenery too. 

One thing about me, I can never tell Jaime no. He has brought me out of my shell so many times and made me realize life is not supposed to be lived alone.

“Okay, just need to put on some hype music and life will be okay,” I say to myself like a mantra, opening up Spotify. ‘Hot girls getting ready’ playlist? Sounds perfect.

I start with my eyes so I don’t get eyeshadow and mascara all over my base. I decided to try a smokey eye with silver, dark gray and black eyeshadows. Maybe all the times I practiced my makeup is going to pay off tonight. 

I finished with some black eyeliner, mascara, and tried my luck at false eyelashes. Happily, they worked out perfectly and looked hot as hell.

Finally, I finished my base with foundation, concealer, bronzer, and blush. I put a little highlighter on my nose which accentuated my face perfectly and I was thoroughly happy with how my makeup turned out.

Now time for an outfit. I pull out a short black dress that looks like it covers nothing. “Yeah, maybe I save this for the club… I will inevitably be dragged to. Why do I even have this?” I say as I put it back in my closet.

“I guess my outfit should be comfy? A little sexy? Ugh, I don’t even know,” I say, starting to rifle through my nicer tops. 

I stop on a low cut, white short sleeve with ‘Juicy’ written on the front in rhinestones. “Hm, this might actually be perfect,” I say, taking it off the hanger. 

I look through my drawers next to find a pair of flared leggings so I can be comfy but still look cute. I grab some socks as well while I am over here. 

“Now I need some shoes, definitely want a pair of my Jordans,” I say heading over to my little shoe area in my room. One thing about me, I am definitely a shoe person over anything; I am so proud of my collection.

I decided on a more colorful pair to bring some more pizazz into my outfit. I grabbed my custom light blue Jordan 1’s and put them on the side to take downstairs.

I packed my purse with everything essential I needed and grabbed my zip-up since it was a little chilly tonight in Austin. I sent over a text to Jaime to let him know I was on my way and that he needs to save me a lot of alcohol because he owes me for getting me off my couch.

The thing is that I have been in countless sessions with the guys but I have never really hung out with them in person. I am really nervous, especially since I was not ready for that 2 hours ago when Jaime texted me, but my intuition is telling me everything is going to be good.

“Let’s see how this night goes,” I say, turning my car on and backing out of my house.

-

My steps felt so heavy walking up Jaime’s driveway but I reminded myself I needed to breathe and let go of any anxiety filling my head.

I ring the doorbell and as if Jaime was watching me through his Ring camera, the door swung open and I was being bombarded with a bear hug.

“____!” Jaime screamed as I was knocked back by the 6’1” man child. “I’m happy to see you too, Jaimito,” I say, muffled into his chest.

“Come in, come say Hi to everyone,” He says, leading me inside. I shed my shoes and jacket at the front door and placed my zip-up on the coat rack.

I am met by everyone sitting in the living room by the TV playing video games and in the kitchen setting up a game of Cup Pong. 

I did a once over the room to get acquainted with the faces and my eyes landed on Grizzy, one of the friends I was closest with. After playing some games, he was the one I would stay on a call with for a while just talking about anything and everything.

“Baby bear!” Grizzy says, throwing his controller out the way and runs over to me. I have to say, that is one of my favorite nicknames ever given to me. 

“Pookie bear!” I say with a wide smile, opening my arms out wide to accept yet another bear hug. But this one felt different than Jaime’s; less koala than Jaime and more of a loving embrace. 

He placed his head on top of mine while giving me the best bear hug, “Why haven’t you been around in a while? You know we miss you.”

“I know and I’m sorry for that, work has been absolutely kicking my ass,” I say, pulling away. “But I’m here now! And I’m totally beating you in Cup Pong later.”

“I’d like to see you try,” He said with a challenging look and smirk. “Come on, come sit down and join us. Wanna join a game of Mario Kart?” Grizzy said. 

“I’ll just watch for now, definitely going to grab a drink and some of those Chick-fil-a nuggies first,” I say, heading into the kitchen.

After I was done, I walked into the living room scanning for a seat. Grizzy looked at me and patted the seat next to him with the goofiest smile on his face. All I could do was shake my head at him, trying to keep the smile and blush from creeping on my face, as I joined him on the couch.

He placed his arm on the backrest of the couch, seemingly unknowingly, but his mind was racing that he just wanted to be closer to me. As if we were telepathic, my plate already placed on the coffee table, I put my legs over Grizzy’s lap to “get more comfortable” and moved a little closer into his side.

He placed his other hand on my ankle and started moving his thumb up and down in calming motion. I felt his eyes peering into my head but I couldn’t bear to look at him; my cheeks already felt as red as a tomato.

-

One minute to midnight. We were all quite tipsy at this point; Lots of drinks were floating around, champagne starting to pop. We all congregated around the TV.

“Guys,” Pezzy drawled on. “I brought party hats, poppers, and noise makers. Put them on please.” 

We all chuckled at his drunken state and while we were all at his level, we entertained his gifts and adorned one of the three he brought.

“Thirty seconds, guys!” Droid yelled, almost bouncing off the walls with excitement. I giggled at him as he attacked me with another hug. I am really glad he invited me over, I am so happy right now.

We watched in suspense as the ball slowly ticked down to mark the start of 2025. A year of new opportunities, new memories and new friends.

“10… 9… 8… 7…” Everyone started to count down. Grizzy put his arm around me and I looked up at him as we counted down, “5… 4…”

We looked into each other’s eyes and screamed even louder, “3…2… 1… Happy New Year!” 

The couples shared a kiss, the boys shared hugs, and noise makers and fireworks were loud in the air.

He immediately pulled me into a hug and whispered in my ear, “Happy New Year, Baby bear.” 

I said back, “Happy New Year, Grizzy.” I placed a short kiss on his cheek in an act of love and excitement for what the New Year had in store. He gave me a look of want and I couldn’t ignore that exact look probably in my eyes.

As things only got crazier after midnight, the boys still wanted to party. Since I don’t go out often, I definitely needed a second to myself.

I snuck off to the backyard and took a seat on the porch swing Jaime had. Not too long after, I heard the door open and Grizzy walked out to join me, not that I’m complaining.

I patted the spot next to me, signaling I was okay with him joining me.

“Are you doing okay? Needed some air?” He asked me. 

“Yeah, just needed a second away from the craziness inside,” I said, putting my head on his shoulder. He put his hand on my knee which made me smile with his affection, I moved my hand to interlock our fingers.

“So… Droid might have just told me a little secret,” Grizzy said kind of hesitantly. 

My eyes immediately popped out of my head and I slowly turned my head to him. “I’m going to kill him, he told you before I could?” I said.

“Before you do that, the feelings are mutual. I really like you, ____,” Grizzy said, squeezing my hand to comfort my annoyance.

“Really? You really do?” I said, my eyes softening.

“I really do. And I wanted to ask if you wanted to be my New Year’s kiss?” He asked me with hope in his eyes.

I couldn’t even say anything, I was speechless. I took my hand out of his and placed it on his cheek. I shook my head ‘Yes’ and leaned in to kiss him. 

He placed his hand on my thigh to bring me closer to him as he deepened the kiss slightly. The taste of both of our drinks on our lips and the feeling of hopefulness for a good year ahead in our hearts.

We pulled away after a moment and just smiled at each other. I put my head back on his shoulder as we took this moment of silence with each other. 

Until we heard someone yell ‘YES!’ which was undeniably Droid as he was too nosy to not peak through the sheer curtains we were sitting in front of. I mean, who else but drunk Jaime to give Grizzy the push to join me outside?

We just chuckled to each other and shook our heads at our best friend.

[mythalism]

at this point im just ranting bc im on my period have been cooped up at home for 4 days as a result and havent taken my adderall today so theres a lot happening in my noggin

idk for some reason settling on the word "palatable" just now for solas's writing in veilguard but also the game as a whole just really struck me powerfully because i think it also really encapsulates why it pisses me the fuck off so bad on a personal level. because i literally hate shit like that LOL. growing up a girl with audhd i have spent my life being the one of LEAST palatable people in the room at all times and constantly being told i should be more palatable, dont talk so loud, dont talk so much, dont say things like that! people would like you better if you werent so harsh, you're an acquired taste, you're a tough pill to swallow. you're too political. etc etc ETC and i literally have become more palatable with age but also WITH GREAT EFFORT bc it was so clear to me my whole life that i would continue to (unintentionally) upset and make people uncomfortable with my honesty and intensity just by being myself around them. and you maybe wondering wtf this has to do with dragon age and media in general but i think its because as a result, I LOVE UN-PALATABLE THINGS!!!! BECAUSE I AM ALSO UNPALATABLE. and i think anyone who has experienced this will know what im talking about and if you dont well this post isnt for u. but i want stories to be like a punch to the fucking face. i want INTENSITY!!! i even took that quiz that went around recently and got the one that was like "you read books that challenge your worldview" YEAH!!!!! even things that i disagree with or dislike i will always respect if they pack a fucking punch.

like i hate passivity. i hate in both in people and in media. this isnt a personal drag or attack if u are the kind of person i am talking about. but see how i felt the compulsive need to disclaim that? hm. i hate it because it has never been something that came naturally to me and has always been forced upon me. i hate when people wont speak the fuck up. i hate capitulation. i hate indecisiveness. i hate when people shy away from conflict. these are all things that have repeatedly been the source of interpersonal conflict for me throughout my entire life. and like obviously im a grown adult and i have learned a LOT and am able to handle myself with sensitivity and maturity. i can recognize time and place and appropriateness and be passive and unobtrusive when necessary or when in my or someone else's best interest. i can understand and empathize with people who are the opposite of me and are passive, and avoidant, and afraid of conflict, and quiet. and i have plenty of wonderful relationships in my life and practice healthy conflict resolution regularly like fr dont worry about me. however there is always going to be a little girl inside me who resents that i will always have to tone myself down to meet the standard of easy-enough-to-swallow woman because thats what our world values rather than anyone else ever bothering to meet me at the level of intensity i naturally operate on or even just allowing me to be bonkers in peace.

and all of this absolutely manifests in what stories and art resonates with me. i prefer visual art that is bright, colorful, and intense. all of my favorite stories since i was a child and couldnt even recognize these patterns are unapologetic, emotionally powerful, and loudly political. there are a lot great shows movies games books etc. that i am sure are great and well done, but if they do not have a level of rocking my SHIT, i am simply not going to be a super fan. I LOVED DRAGON AGE FOR ROCKING MY SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!! its probably why da2 is my favorite because it is all of these things that people have been telling me to tamp down on since i was a kid. unapologetic, intense, punch to the face, insane emotional rollercoaster. i love that it challenged the player. its probably why i love tragedy too, and the solavellan romance because its literally painful. also definitely why i love cyberpunk so much and why i fell in love with it so fast, because if there is a game that punches you in the face, its cyberpunk 2077. like johnny literally punches you in the face. anyway ive already written abt this in another post so ill move on now but WOW. PLESAE!!!!! DRAGON AGE PLEASE PUNCH ME IN THE FACE!!!! MAKE ME FEEL SOMETHING!!!! MATCH MY FREAK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SAY SOMETHING!!!! SAY SOMETHING SO I DONT FEEL LIKE THE ONLY PERSON OUT THERE WHOS SAYING SOMETHING!!!!!! i love seeing people be as opinionated and unapologetic as i feel even if i dont let it out. EVEN WHEN I DISAGREE!!!!!!!! this is why you dont see me arguing with posts i disagree with of rancid bad takes on this website. BC I RESPECT THAT SOMEONE HAD THE BALLS TO POST THEIR NONSENSE IN THE FIRST PLACE. UR WRONG BUT GO OFF!!!!!!! there is just something so valuable to me in seeing people express themselves and be loud and unashamed. maybe sometimes they should be ashamed but the inner child in me is happy that they are even given the space to be wrong. doesnt mean i wont disagree equally loudly on my own page, but i just HAAAAATE not speaking up. and i especially hate when being quiet and passive is portrayed as the "right" thing to do, more mature, and superior.

AND THATS VEILGUARD. literally take all of this and apply it to video game form. thats veilguard. safe, passive, palatable. we went from blowing up churches to enabling regicide to....... book club? thats a completely unfair and poor example, im aware, but this isnt a real essay its just a rant, and i know you know what i mean. and to be fair, inquisition was already step in this direction, but boy was veilguard a LEAP. olympic long-jump, even. inquisition is toned down compared to the fucking insanity of da2 and origins, but it still has moments enough to keep me feeling like it has a backbone and something to SAY, that it was brave enough to ask me to think, that it wasnt mass produced soylent green slop manufactured for easy digestion.

but veilguard is. the central message is passivity. the central message is DO. NOTHING. dont try to change things. dont speak up for what you believe in. you might mess up the world!!!!! do you understand how this is a video game manifestation of a sentiment that has smothered me my entire life. do you understand why it is so frustrating to see a series that once asked me to think for myself, to choose, to take action, to DO SOMETHING, go from asking for my opinion in judgement on a character's crimes to telling me not to think too hard at all? to go from allowing me to interrogate every character for their opinions and life story and pick their brains, to not even allowing for a real conversation? to put two choices in front of me and say PICK ONE!!!! AND LIVE WITH THE CONSEQUENCES!!!! TO PUNCH ME IN THE FACE WITH A DEVASTATING STORY THAT HAS SOMETHING TO SAY ABOUT THE WORLD?!??!?!!? EVEN IF THE STATEMENT IS SOME CANADIAN NEOLIB BULLSHIT THAT I DISAGREE WITH????? AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ahem. veilguard genuinely honest to fucking god encourages me as the player to do the very fucking thing that my evil elementary school music teacher wanted from me when i talked too much in class or when my mom told me people would like me more if i wasnt so "intense". shut up, do not ask questions, do not have an opinion, do not express that opinion loudly or in a way that others cannot handle, do not get too excited, dont try to change anything, do not take action, do not get angry. and join the fucking book club. or don't actually, because rook cant even do that. someone is probably going to read this and be like "wow its not that deep" and ur right its not that deep. but i am analyzing why i have such a visceral reaction to this dumbass fucking game and i have figured it out so if you dont like it you can leave. and if you love that veilguard is relaxing and chill and "COZY" that is great for you truly cheers. the world needs people that are passive and diplomatic and quiet and dont rock the boat and quiet and i am 100% dead serious. i know its gonna sound like im being a backhanded bitch because as aforementioned i have chronic bitch syndrome but i am dead serious that all of those traits ARE VALUABLE and have a place in this world and we need games that are relaxing and unobtrusive and P A L A T A B L E just like we need people that can be that way but that is not ME and that was NOT DRAGON AGE and to LOSE DRAGON AGE TO THAT PRESSURE HITS TOO CLOSE TO HOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU TOOK MY MEAN MESSY UGLY LOUD FUCKED UP BABY AND GAVE IT A FUCKING TIK TOK FILTER AND CHANGED THE TEXT FROM "KILL" TO "UNALIVE"!!!!!!!! GIVE HER BACK!!!!!!!!!!!! GIVE HER BACK THAT MEAN MESSY UGLY LOUD FUCKED UP BABY WAS MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

feel free to respond in the replies if you relate or resonate with this i know this is very personal but i would love to discuss further with people if you understand what im saying . however if u are an asshole prepare to feel the full force of my wrath because as i said above i hold back a lot but i am simply not in the mood today xoxo kisses

[judesmoonbeauty]

Ikémen Series Expo 2024 - A “Villains” Original Short Story

This is a fan translation. 100% accuracy is not guaranteed. Cybird owns everything. This is exclusive content for IFC members that gained it via point accumulation during the event. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not share my translations. Thank you! ☾

This story features: Ellis, Liam, Harrison & Ring. The stories are dialogue only (Cybird's doing not mine.)

Ellis: Oh, it’s my acrylic stand.

Liam: It is, and this is my card.

Ring: There’s also buttons. 

Liam: I don’t know which one I want.

Ellis: For now, why not collect and organize your own merch?

Liam: Good idea, then….what should I get?

Ring: Isn’t this armor cool.

Ellis: It’s Mr. Nobunaga’s acrylic stand, his armor isn’t something found in the West.

Ring: Ah, it doesn’t exist in the UK or Germany. Are there other types of armor that exist.

Liam: It’s nice they each have their own colored armor, I wonder what our colors would be.

Ellis: I think you’d be pink Liam. Ring is…

Harrison: What are you excited about?

Liam: Ah, Harry!

Harrison: Your hands aren’t moving. Aren’t going to work hard so the robins can enjoy it.

Liam: Sorry, I got really excited.

Ellis: Harry, you’re all done?

Harrison: I organized the goods so they’re easy to grab.

Harrison: You guys only put your own merch up…..

Ellis: I want people to see and get my goods first…..

Liam: I put my merch upfront because I want them to see how well made it is…

Ring: ….I….for some reason

Harrison: Haaa. Come on, put it back. This won’t be done no matter how long it takes.

Liam: Okaaay.

Ellis: Yeah.

Ring: Sure.

Liam: Hey, doesn’t this Harry merch look good? 

Ellis: These Jude goods are so cute. 

Ring: Nica’s merch is nice too.

Harrison: Hey. 

Liam: Will’s card looks so stylish. 

Ellis: Roger’s acrylic stand looks just like him.

Ring: Dari’s too….

Harrison: ….Oi.

Liam: Oh, Lord Elbie is beautiful! His beauty doubles when merch is made of him.

Ellis: Victor’s hair looks so smooth seeing it like this. 

Ring: Alfons’ personality comes out in his goods too…..

Harrison: …..Set up!

Liam: Oh, sorry!

Ellis: Sorry.

Ring: I-I’m sorry.

Harrison: The space you guys touched is nothing but a mess.

Harrison: Who said they’d work hard to get set up.

Liam: Me…..

Ellis: Me…..

Ring: I did…

Harrison: ….Liam line up the larger goods. Ellis, clean the shelves, and Ring handle the smaller items.

Liam: On it! Ring, let’s do our best.

Ring: Oh, by the way, where should I put this?

Liam: Is that this one.

Ellis: I’ll dust the upper shelves.

Harrison: It’s finally getting it done…..

Harrison: Why am I in charge?

Ellis: Harry?

Harrison: Hm, something happen?

Ellis: I hope the robins will be happy.

Harrison: ….Oh, that’s right.

Ellis: I hope they’ll be the happiest when they see our merchandise stand.

Harrison: I’m not sure about the happiest, but they’ll be happy.

Ellis: Heh, I’m looking forward to it now.

Harrison: ….I see.

Liam: Harry, come here!

Harrison: Yeah, what is it now?

Liam: Do they look better placed this way, or that way?

Harrison: Either way is fine….

Liam: No it’s not, I have to arrange them in a way that’s easy for the robin to look at them.

Harrison: In that case, I think it’d be better to put the larger items on an upper shelf.

Harrison: Since they’re shorter than us, it might be harder for them to reach the items on top shelf.

Liam: That’s true, thanks Harry.

Harrison: No problem, you okay?

Harrison: Your fingers are shaking as you line up the merch?

Ring: I’ve never done a task like this before.

Harrison: You don’t have to fine tune it so much.

Ring: But, I want them to think that the display looks pretty when they see it.

Harrison: ….Want me to help too.

Ring: No, I’ll do each of these here…..ah.

Liam: Huh!

Ellis: Wah!

Harrison: ….Bad move.

Liam: All the goods you lined up fell like a trail of dominoes.

Ellis: The dust pile fell down, due to the impact,

Ring: There’s a lot of dust the fell on top of the merch…..

Harrison: Worst’s come to worst……

Ring: I-I’m sorry! It’s my fault, I’ll clean it up quickly! 

Liam: Wait! You’re going to bump into something,

Ring: [Gasp!]

Ellis: Ring’s arm bumped into a lower shelf, and now it’s all messed up.

Ring: S-sorry!

Liam: It’s okay, let’s start again, we’ve got dust in our heads.

Ring: Ah…..

Liam: Haha, we’re all matching.

Ring: ….Haha, it’s true.

Ellis: It’s kind of funny.

Liam: Harry’s the dustiest…..Harry?

Ellis: Harry？

Ring: What’s wrong？

Harrison: ……I, am NOT your guys’ babysitter!

Fin.

Quick, someone get Harry a double shot of extra extra super sweet strawberry milk, a cupcake, and a Sherlock Holmes novel STAT! ....Poor Ring lmao.

Dividers: @.adornedwithlight

Tags list: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @letter-from-afar @nateko @raeraeks

If you wish to be added to my translations tag list, please comment or DM me.

[rekino2114]

After seeing the adorable beach date headcannons with Makima and Power, may I ask for more beach date headcannons? (This time, with Quanxi + her girlfriends, Asa, Yoru, and Fami?)

Beach date headcanons with quanxi,asa,yoru, and fami

A/n:You have no idea how much I like that you colored the girls' names, as you probably figured out I really like color coding stuff so my weird brain thanks you

Quanxi(and her harem)

Quanxi wasn't that excited to go, she doesn't really care what you do as long as she gets to spend time with the people she loves, but her girlfriends on the other hand were all very thrilled as it would be their first time going to the beach

You probably had to go when few people were around cause 4 fiends just hanging out would probably scare people (cosmo especially)

Quanxi mostly stays out of the water, sunbathing while looking at you all playing in the water (I'm imagining her with sunglasses over the eyepatch) she joins you when you ask and does have fun, she just prefers being outside

If there's one thing she hates is people hitting on any of you, and when you're at the beach, it's going to happen, thankfully she still keeps her swords near her just in case

"Come on quanxi, get in the water"

"Yeah, y/n's right, come on its nice"

"Hm, well if you really want to, sure I guess it'd be nice"

"That's great"

"Halloween! Halloween!"

Asa mitaka

She was very happy and quickly said yes when you suggested going, the beach is kinda like an aquarium after all right?....except it's outside.....with people...staring at her.....in a bikini......maybe she should have thought about this a bit more

While she was pretty nervous to just be there just looking at you having fun with a smile on your face put her at ease and made her enjoy the date more

Asa's not the best at swimming, so she mostly stays near the shore where the water is low while telling you random facts about the fishes and animals she sees

She'd like it if you bring one of those floating air mattresses so she can lay on it and just feel the fresh breeze on her face while relaxing, she really loves calm moments like this especially when you're with her

"So how are you asa? Did you have fun? You looked pretty nervous at first"

"Yeah, sorry about that, I was just kinda overwhelmed, but I really had a great time.....e-especially because of you"

"Awww that's so sweet, thanks asa"

"No t-thank you"

Yoru

She did not see the point at first. Why couldn't she just hang out with you somewhere else? The sand would get all over her, and she'd get stared at by creeps, not to mention how hot it would be, even if reluctantly she agreed cause she didn't wanna see you sad

After being there for a while, she discovered it wasn't that bad. She found out she particularly likes making sand castles actually (she tried to make one in the shape of a tank, but couldn't)

When she's in the water, yoru likes to randomly transform the small animals she sees into a weapon. She doesn't even use them. It's just for fun

She keeps sunglasses on during basically all of the date both to hide her eyes and because she thought it made her look cool

"Hey y/n! Y/n! Look what I made isn't it so cool?"

"Oh I'm sure it's-......uh"

"Hm what......w-why is it gone?"

"I think the water destroyed it"

"............I'm killing the ocean devil for this"

Fami

One word:ice cream (or is it 2?). She literally went there just because of the ice cream. She also packed like 3 backpacks full of food even if you were staying there for a short time

She'll just be sitting in the chair eating a tub of ice cream while watching you swim. She joins you later, but only after she's finished

If you or anyone tells her about the myth that you have to wait 30 minutes after eating to swim she'll just be "OK and?" And not care at all

She might have had a coughing fit after trying to drink the ocean water.....more than once

"Fami, please get in, the water isn't cold"

"Yeah don't worry, I will after I finish eating"

"But isn't that like your third tub of ice cream"

"Yeah I have to try every flavor, but don't worry, I'll join you soon"

".....if you say so"

[srovtl]

(While brushing off the dripping dew) Figaro SR Card Story Translation

The same as before - Chapter 1

Rutile: Gulp… Yummy, This water, it tastes so good. The color is crazy though.

Figaro: Rutile. Are you drinking the lake water again?

Rutile: Yes! The color is crazy , but it's sweet and tasty, so might as well.

Figaro: I see, I'm glad you like it. It's not something you can drink in the south, so drink as much as you want.

Figaro: But Rutile, I've taught you this time and time again since you were a child. When you drink lots of water from a pond or lake…

Rutile: ……Ah! Boiling!

Figaro: Exactly. The color is crazy so it doesn't feel like normal water, but the risk of parasites and disease doesn't change.

Figaro: When you want to drink it, pour it into a cup like this and….

Figaro: 《Possideo》

Figaro: Yeah, this should be fine. Here you go, Rutile.

Rutile: Yay. Thank you!

Figaro: Make sure you blow on it before you drink it. It's pretty hot.

Rutile: Okay! Fuuu.

Rutile: Here we go.

Figaro: Hm?

The same as before - Chapter 2

Figaro: Hm? Wait, Rutile, I think you have to…

Rutile: …! Ouch!

Figaro: Aaah, I know it…! Are you okay? Did you burn your tongue?

Rutile: ……..

Rutile: …I did…. I'm sorry….

Figaro: Your voice is so quiet….  Come on, don't be so down. Show it to doctor Figaro. 

Figaro: Sit in a place where the sun shines, look up a little, open your mouth wide, a–.

Rutile: A—-......

Figaro: Great, looks like your throat didn't burn. Don't worry, I can heal a burnt tongue quickly.

Figaro: It's gonna sting for a second 《Possideo》

Rutile: Ah…. It's healed

Figaro: Great.

Figaro: Next time, make sure you let it cool properly before drinking it. Rutile, you've been impatient since you were little.

Rutile: OK, I'll be careful.

Rutile: ...Ah, right! If I put the cup on the snow, it will cool down quickly, right?

Figaro: Sure, it will cool down, but the heat will melt the snow and the cup will fall over. It's dangerous, so don't do that.

Rutile: Ah, you're right. Guess that's a no then.

Figaro: Yep. ….Hehe…..

Figaro: (Rutile was like this when he was little too. Impatient, forgets instructions, and would always act on impulse.)

Figaro: (He grew taller, and became a beloved school teacher, I thought he was all grown up but...)

Figaro: ...This part is the same as before.

Gentle memory - Card Episode

Akira: Figaro, you knew Rutile since he was a child right? 

Akira: What was he like at that age?

Figaro: I don't think he's changed much, but who knows? When you're together all the time, it's actually harder to notice changes.

Figaro: But he did play pranks and games appropriate for his age. He would wear my old white coat and play doctor.

Akira: Ooh, that sounds so cute!

Figaro: Haha. It didn't fit him so the hem and sleeves kept dragging behind him. 

Figaro: While in that outfit, when an emergency occurs, he runs off suddenly, so I kept worrying about him stepping on the hem and tripping.

Figaro: But, he was adorable. He looked more like a small ghost than a reliable doctor though. 

Akira: Ahaha. I can kind of imagine it.

Figaro: Right?

Figaro: But nowadays, he can probably wear my white coat easily,  he just has to roll up his sleeves a little.

Akira: ……..

Akira: ...Figaro, how do I put this? You are making a really good face now. It's gentle...

Figaro: Really? When you say it that directly it kinda makes me blush. But…..

Figaro: He's really grown up. That boy who used to be so small.

Homescreen voiceline

Tonight is the night for us wizards. That's why I don't want you to think about rude stuff like who you are, just forget about it and spend the night however you like. I guess this is the only request that Lord Figaro wants to make to everyone.