#i have a whole other thing in my drafts about the doctor not forgiving the master after tpotd

[cosmicallyavg]

the master saying “if i cant be the doctor, neither can you” is so raw because he literally tried to become the doctor before, as missy, through actions - being “good”, saving people, etc etc. ultimately the past caught up to her and she regressed back into her old ways (but in the end, she did help the doctor, the doctor doesnt know that). 

then the master found out about the timeless child, realized that his devotion to the time lord empire has all been for nothing, because it was built on lies, built on the pain and suffering of the doctor. that a piece of the doctor is in him and he wouldnt be who he is without the doctor, which in a way has always been true, but never as true as it is now.

revealing all of this to the doctor should break her down to his level, right? telling her all about the lives she never knew and everything that was done to her/the child would ruin her own perception of who she is, because there are so many memories lost. to him, the doctor is the doctor because of everything she has done, the past defines who the doctor is. with so much of her past hidden, how can she continue to be who she’s built herself up to be?

but he’s wrong. the doctor isnt the doctor solely due to the memories. the doctor is the doctor because she helps people, does good where good can be done. even if her definition of “good” isnt absolute, the point is that she tries. 

he thinks he has brought her down to his level when theyre in the matrix, and shes threatening him with the death particle. he wants her to pull the trigger, wants her to kill them both. its what hes always wanted, isnt it? their deaths together. “become death, become me” 

but she cant. she cant bring herself down to that level. in a way, maybe he has broken her, trying to get her to make that decision, you can see the way she almost pulls the trigger, up until he says those four words. its then that the doctor realizes it would give him what he wants, the ultimate destruction of who the doctor is at her own hand. its then that she falters. 

the master then takes it upon himself to destroy the doctor at the very root of it all. he brings some of her old companions back, tries to pit them against her, he wants to become her in the most literal but also metaphorical sense in order to ruin everything she has ever stood for, to ruin her reputation. because if a piece of her has been in him since the beginning, he can never get rid of her in a physical sense. her death wouldnt erase him of her completely.

he takes her identity, becomes her. he plays into the role of the doctor the best he can, wants to have a companion, wants to travel the stars and get into mischief under the guise of the doctor. he doesnt have to worry about trying to become good for the doctor’s sake, he can continue on has he has done and there will be no doctor trying to stop him. 

her friends come together to undo what hes done. the universe needs the doctor. the doctor is the doctor because of the friends shes made along the way . the doctor is the doctor because of love. and the master doesnt have that, cannot have that. “dont let me go back to being me” the master loathes who hes become, after everything he had built his identity around was destroyed, he had nothing to fall back on other than his hatred for the doctor, his jealousy of the doctor. 

if the doctor couldnt become him, maybe he could become her - he doesnt want to be the master anymore. so then if he couldnt become the doctor, then she shouldnt be the doctor either. it ultimately comes down to him wanting the destruction of the both of them and going trough any means to make it happen. in the end, this time, it did happen. for them, its a neverending cycle of death and betrayal and their friendship and their love for each other but also the hatred, the animosity, they always find their way back to each other. but perhaps not this time.

because the means he went through to make it happen, i doubt the doctor is ever going to forgive him.

[s0ulm8s]

boys like you (1.0)

✿ summary : alone and left in a mansion with nothing but your canvases and the dust slowly collecting on the window sills - a commission and a call from a childhood friend completely changes your life.

✿ genre : ot7 x f!reader, poly au, hybrid au, soulmate au, deer!seokjin, black panther!yoongi, great dane!hoseok, wolf!namjoon, calico cat!jimin, tiger!taehyung, bunny!jungkook

✿ warnings : mentions of death, maybe some mentions of assault, some fluff, reader is described as small (i.e smaller than jimin), slight age gap (reader is younger than jungkook)

✿ word count : 2.2K

✿ author’s note : i am inexperienced in hybrid aus, smut, and series so pls bare with me (not proofread yet)

✿ series masterlist! | 2.0

making yourself buckle down and work on the piece in front of you had proven to be more of a task than you had originally anticipated. the wide expanse of blank canvas you had stretched yourself 3 weeks ago, mocked you from the the sun room. it was only four days before you had to deliver your piece that you had really forced yourself to pick up a paint brush and do something useful.

the endless days spent alone in the vast building you now called home was doing a number on your psyche. the sheer loneliness seemed to eat away at not only your sanity but aided to your artist’s block - it was truly a gruesome cycle. locked away in an beautiful estate that you never asked for.

not only that, but working from home and having an all but nonexistent social life in a country you only permanently moved to a year prior was a fate worse than you had imagined.

you huffed, finally setting your small brush down on the easel, stepping back to assess your final draft. despite being so unmotivated and plum out of ideas, you were still proud of what you created - you had promised yourself long ago that you’d never sell a piece you abhorred, and you’d remained true to that promise thus far.

a blaring ring ripped you out of your critical trance trained on the landscape in front of you, startling you as your heartbeat quickened in pace.

“hello?” you answered, soft voice flowing through the other end as you anticipated the response from the unknown caller.

“yah! y/n! is that you?” the voice that responded was loud and excited, the baritone of it something you could never forget. a staple soundtrack from the summers you spent with your father in south korea.

“mingi? how’d you get my number?” you asked, a genuine smile flooding your face at the sound of his familiar laugh on the other end. 

of course, the two of you had stayed in brief contact since meeting as children. but as you grew, you saw less of each other. three years ago he and his boyfriend, yunho, had successfully started their own rehabilitation and adoption center for hybrids. the first year was hard, but the business quickly gained popularity and as the creator - he’d been exceptionally busy since her permanent move to south korea. they had two permanent doctors on staff, kim hongjoong and park seonghwa, along with a 24 hour staff. the workers were really exceptional, but you had only ever met their core group when the business first started. which included: choi san, jung wooyoung, choi jongho, kang yeosang, the two doctors, and of course the two owners.

“you were commissioned by a friend of mine! which is actually why i wanted to reach out.” he answered happily as your breathing evened and heartbeat finally settled.

“it’s good to hear from you, really. what can i do for you?” you asked sweetly, and mingi only briefly thought about teasing you for your soft tone and giving nature.

“would you be able to come to the adoption wing today? i’m working here all day as we’ve some new hybrids ready to find a new home. maybe in about an hour? you could join me on my rounds and we could talk. i’d like to see you, anyways. i’ve missed you.” mingi spoke professionally, but his admission made tears prick at your eyes. he almost sounded like the sixteen year old boy who had stolen your first kiss when visiting your father that summer and the memory of when things were simpler stung in your chest. your cheeks flushed. mingi smiled at your silence, knowing he had flustered his best childhood friend. you narrowed your eyes briefly, as he had tried to convince you many times in the past to adopt a hybrid of your own - but you had declined, not entirely convinced that you could provide an exceptional life for another being. because even though your knowledge on hybrids wasn't nearly as advanced as mingi’s, you still knew the basics. they weren't just animals, they were human. and there was no guarantee there. there never was with humans. you hesitate.

“y-yes. i can come by, i’ve just got to swing by and deliver my painting beforehand.” you answered as you both agreed on the meeting the time. “oh, and mingi? i’ve missed you, too.” you said genuinely as he broke into a toothy smile. it had been ages since he’d seen you, and though he knew he could blame it on his work - he didn’t know how to face you after the death of your father. he couldn’t bring himself to be there for you, to see you so broken, and he had blamed himself for that everyday. it was a relief to hear you say it. you had always been so forgiving, sometimes to a fault.

after bidding your goodbyes to the tall boy on the other side of the phone, you quickly changed clothes into something not completely ruined by the muted pigments of your paint, loaded up in your small suv, and you were off.

the delivery of your piece went smoothly, no heckling or disapproving gazes from the wealthy couple, which made your trip to TWILIGHT that much faster. you pushed open the double doors connected to the building in the right wing, clearly labeled ADOPTION. 

the smell of roses and lavender was strong in the reception area, the scent was welcoming and calming as you walked up to the front desk. 

“y/n!” the dark haired boy behind the computer called, finally rolling away from behind the screen. kang yeosang. “it’s so good to see you!” he exclaimed, eyes scanning your face as he made his way around the counter and pulled you into a soft embrace.

“likewise, yeo! it’s been a while hasn't it?” you ask rhetorically as you stare up at his daunting height.

“mmm” he hummed with a nod, releasing you. “i'll let mingi know you’re here.” he called, returning to his place behind the sleek desk, paging mingi, and then proceeding to catch up with you.

the small conversation didn’t last long before a pair of heavy footsteps drug your gaze to the wide staircase, mingi barreling down them.

you braced yourself as the giant scooped you up into a bone crushing embrace, spinning your small frame around in a circle as he let out a happy laugh. your arms snaked around the man’s neck to secure your place and return the hug.

you giggled happily as mingi finally set you down in your original place, looking down at you excitedly. had he gotten taller? impossible. maybe you had shrunk?

after an exchange of excited greetings, mingi gestured to his clipboard before finally asking, “you ready?”

you nodded softly and followed close behind as he guided you down the halls of the adoption center. he gave you the rundown of their center, showing you the wide expanse of spotless rooms sealed in by plexiglass to show the hybrids ready to be rescued. he explained that most hybrids were separated by predator, prey, species, breed, etc. but many were grouped together with their respective packs. the rooms were quite lavish, but not very homey. but what could you expect from an adoption clinic? the point was to find homes.

you passed many show exhibits, watching intently at the small dogs or tall humans sitting in the rooms patiently, playing with one another or napping quietly. you cooed at a few.

“so i asked to see you because i’d love to have your art displayed in our business.” he propositioned, leading you into an empty room as the automatic doors opened and shut behind you. you nodded, heart lurching a bit as you recalled your artist’s block. you shook the thought away as you observed the room. it was large, littered with scattered pieces of nice furniture and random toys. “ideally, i’d love to have your pieces throughout the whole establishment but this is my main concern.” he finished, gesturing to the empty space on the large wall, the one you’re faced with when first entering.

“are you wanting a mural?” you ask, voice now stable and a bit louder. 

“i'd like the piece to cover the majority of the wall, but i’d rather have it on canvas if that’s doable. in case it needs to be moved.” he explained as you nodded, taking in rough measurements of the space as mingi explained his vision for the space - effectively helping you circulate a few ideas on what you could create. you accepted his offer as he discussed payment and supplies with you, adding in an extra cost at the large measurement of the canvas you’d need custom made.

the air in the room grew a bit thick at the sound of a small beep, alerting the two of you to another door opening. your skin was now a bit hot and you suddenly became very aware of your surroundings. your fingers tingled a bit. usually a foreign feeling such as the one you were experiencing would send you into a panic, but it didn’t. if anything you felt quite calm as you looked on inquisitively at the distant thump coming toward the two of you.

“ah, it’s look like some of our hybrids are finished with their check ups.” mingi announced as you nodded lazily. he turned to you. “we usually send them into the lounge area for about an hour after routine check ups. helps them calm down.”

suddenly, you could pay no mind to mingi’s words as a black bunny rounded the corner, back foot slapping the tile exceptionally hard every so often as you smiled down at the creature happily. it stopped in it’s tracks as it’s gaze landed upon you, rearing up on it’s back legs, and tilting it’s head innocently as it examined you. 

you knelt down to greet him, the bunny immediately approaching you and sniffing your hand before accepting you and nuzzling into you closer. mingi was taken aback as he observed the usually reserved and nervous rabbit.

“hello.” you cooed, stroking the bunny effortlessly, careful to avoid his ears and tail, briefly recalling how sensitive they could be. “what’s your name?” you asked as mingi coughed.

“this is jeongguk, he’s one of our younger hyrbrids. the youngest in his pack.” he told you as you picked the bunny up and set him into your small lap. mingi almost gasped at the interaction between you and the rabbit as you pet him happily.

your trance was interrupted at the light purr and brush of a small calico next to you. you instinctively reach out to pet him, as he rubbed into your hand. “and who might you be?”

“this is jimin, the two are in a pack.” mingi attempted to explain, trying to understand the absence of jimin’s usually protective behavior and unable to tell you the full story before you asked him something he was not expecting.

“and they’re ready to be adopted?” you asked softly, not even looking up at mingi as he stuttered. the idea of adopting a hybrid didn’t seem so far-fetched now at how taken you were with the two animals in your lap. you could handle the bunny and cat, without a doubt.

“y-yes but we only adopt out entire packs together and -”

“of course, i wouldn’t dream of separating them. is there anyway i could meet them properly, as soon as i possible i think -” you interrupt. starting to gush a bit, voice hushed and excitable.

mingi cut you off, “no, y/n. you aren’t listening. they aren’t just a pack of two.” he sighed, as your gaze finally met his. “in fact they aren’t just bunny and calico, they’re pack also includes that of a wolf, black panther, deer, great dane, and tiger... their pack has been hard to adopt out as it’s so rare for such a large mix of predators and prey... but they found each other and experienced a lot together... it was only inevitable. and we can’t separate them, we refuse to. and they won’t leave one another.” he finally finished explaining as your expression fell. you let out a breath. seven hybrids. all male. and three apex predators, at that. the thought of suddenly thrusting seven knew faces - seven new men - into your home was intimidating to say the least.

you looked down at the two animals in your lap, the bunny almost looked cresfallen. gauging your reaction as his big brown eyes stared at you expectantly. as if he knew you’d reject him. mingi continued rambling on about how many adopters had expressed interest in at least one of the pack but were never willing to bring in all seven. it hurt your heart as you watched on the bunny and calico.

the estate your father had left you was empty, though. begging to be occupied. you had more than enough room and were blessed with an untouched inheritance. maybe this is what you should use it for. you had always felt too guilty to spend it. but nothing seemed more right, which was a shocking realization to someone who never thought they’d adobt a hybrid.

“could i meet them? the seven of them? i’d at least want to give them a chance... truthfully, i dont think i can leave them behind.” you admitted softly, the bunny and cat both perked up, ears raised and twitching.

“of course. i can arrange a meeting and speak with them tonight... i’ll gather their files for you to take home tonight. can you make it back in again tomorrow?” mingi asked after a deafening pause of hesitation, mouth hanging agape before coming back into reality.

“i’ll be here.”

[wardlowsbabydoll]

Anyway I can request a Jungle Boy x Reader x Heel!Christian imagine? Maybe the three of them are in a poly relationship (before Christian had his heel turn) and just a whole thing about how they navigate their relationship during the whole thing?

Alright nonny! So I’m gonna be honest here in my opinion I feel like this works better as a headcanon idea so that’s what I’m going to write it as, maybe when I clear up my drafts a bit I’ll write a full blown imagine for it but I hope you still like it!!!

Being in a relationship with Christian Cage and Jungle Boy

Dating both Jack and Christian was great

They were both super respectful and overall sweet guys to you and to each other

Tony had given you the heads up the Christian would be turning heel against Jurassic Express but more specifically Jack

You were all honestly a bit uncomfortable with the whole thing but you all weren’t blind to the fans wanting to see him turn on Jack

Yet still, his heel turn stunned both of you

Your heart shattered when you saw him attack Jack

After he and Jack came backstage he spent a long time making it up to you both but more so to Jack

It took a long time for that level of trust to come back into your relationship

In front of the cameras, Jack and Christian absolutely hated each other but backstage things were a bit awkward at times

It was hard sometimes to flat out cut the line between reality and Kayfabe and it resulted in a few fights between Jack and Christian especially

You always played peacemaker, never taking a side

It broke your heart to see them fight and at one point it pushed you to the point where you didn’t talk to either of them

Which in turn made them stop bickering and begin to grovel for your forgiveness

Which took them a bit to earn

But it was hard for you to stay mad at them

During their match against each other, you stayed backstage, refusing to take a side although Tony (with your permission of course) asked to keep a camera on you to see your reactions

You knew as much as their feud broke your heart that in a way this needed to happen

It was a way for them to get their anger out

They beat the hell out of each other

After the match, you helped tend to their many wounds

They loved having you as their nurse though

To tease them you bought one of those skimpy outfits

When they were fully healed and cleared by the doctors though

That was game over for you

Just the way you guys liked it

Hi... so I promise I didn't ditch writing, it's been very hectic for me. I had Breast Reduction surgery last week, turned 21, AND started back at college after an almost two year gap. I promise I am working diligently on all of my asks and other things. Still... don't be afraid to send an ask, I will definitely try my best to make it happen. On that note, I hope you enjoyed this Nonny! I tried my best!

I'm sending you guys all the love and good vibes until next time!!!

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

Tension

Pairing: Danny Rand x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of injuries

Word Count: 4.5K

Summary: What happens when Iron Fist takes an interest in an undercover agent? (I’m so bad at summaries and Titles please forgive me)

A/N: This has been sitting incompleted in my drafts for like months and I finally got the energy and ideas to finish it. I feel accomplished.

It made sense that you and Danny never crossed paths. You were just a S.H.I.E.L.D agent and he was part of the superhero program. Even though you were similar in age, you didn’t attend the same school and you had no skills in common so you never saw each other during training.

You were born into being a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, growing up on the Helicarrier and training your entire life to be an undercover agent. You spent your days with different names and different personas, gathering intel and you were more skilled using weapons and gadgets than actual hand-to-hand combat, while he was parading around the city in a spandex suit.

You, of course, had heard of him but only by the name Iron Fist, and you had never seen him in person.

And it would have remained that way if you hadn’t gotten shot on your last mission. Even though it missed anything vital and the surgery had been a success, you were still told not to do anything that might agitate it for the next 3 months.

So, that was how you got transferred from the undercover agent assignments to team strategist department.

“But I don’t want to be in strategies!” You complained, stubbornly following Fury around the Helicarrier as he desperately tried to get away from you.

“Strategies is for boring people! Like Coulson!” You shouted ignoring Coulson’s offended ‘Hey!’, practically throwing a tantrum in the middle of the training room.

“And more importantly, you gave my assignment to that bitch, Lia?! I’ve been gathering contacts for that mission for around a year and you want me to just hand it over to that lazy piece of shit who would rub it in my face even if she never did anything for the mission?!”

That finally made Fury turn around to face you and you sighed in relief, hoping he would at least listen to you.

“Agent Coulson, make sure that every time (Y/N) swears, 50 bucks is cut down from this month’s pay check.”

You threw him a foul glare.

“You will be transferred to strategies in a week—”

“But I don’t want to—”

“Under the superhero programme—”

“Those pyjama freaks—?!”

“End. Of. Discussion.”

You glared at him so coldly, it could have frozen hell over. Your nails were digging painfully into the palm of your hand but you barely felt it through your anger.

You practically growled, pulling out a 50-dollar bill from your pocket and slamming it onto Coulson’s desk.

“MOTHER F—”

***

The first time you met a member of the team wasn’t one that you had expected. It was a month and a half into your recovery and you had written numerous mission reports on behalf of them and reset the programming of their training bots after each practice session but you still hadn’t met any of them.

The time you were taking to recover was driving you crazy. It made you feel weak. 2 months ago, you were in Barcelona, undercover as an underaged bartender for a mafia gang and now you were going to physiotherapy every week.

Since you were young and Fury didn’t want to take the change of you permanently injuring yourself, he was being very strict about what you could do, he basically confined you to a desk job for the next 2 months.

It was driving you mad.

So, one day when everyone was asleep, you snuck into the training area to practice shooting which you were sure had gone a little rusty since the accident. Nothing a little practice couldn’t help.

You picked up your favourite gun, smiling at the familiarity in your hand, loading it and clicking the safety off before pointing at the target and shooting.

The next thing you felt was excruciating pain. So painful that you were on the floor, pressing your forehead against the cold metal, wondering why this was happening to you.

The rebound of the gun had been too powerful for your arm to take. You felt your injury pull suddenly and you couldn’t think of anything other than the blinding pain as you cried on the floor. Feeling utterly helpless.

“Hello?”

You started, teary eyes getting wide at the sight of a blonde by the door. You had to wipe your eyes for your vision to focus, grunting in pain as you raised your arms again.

You recognized Iron Fist. You had been seeing footage of him and his team members for the last few weeks and writing mission reports about him but seeing him in person was a different feeling.

You hid your face, pulling your knees to your chest, hoping he would leave.

“I heard a gunshot.”

“Yeah,” Your voice cracked embarrassingly, “That was me.” 

“Everything alright?” He came closer to you, standing a foot away from you and you shook your head no.

In all honesty, you wanted to get off the floor and go back to bed, but your arm burned so painfully you were scared to move it again.

“Here, let me help.”

You froze, but still let him raise his hand towards you. You saw his palm light up before he pressed it to your shoulder and you whimpered, shuffling away from him but he continued to apply a gentle pressure.

Soon you felt the pain get better, it slowly reduced to a dull buzz.

“H-How did you do that?” You asked, turning to him with wide eyes and he chuckled, seeing the childish wonderment. You clearly had never seen him in person before even if he had seen you.

Danny noticed you the day he had joined S.H.I.E.L.D. You were returning from yet another mission and the soft blue dress you were wearing among armoured soldiers was hard to miss when he passed the debriefing room. Immediately, he stopped to peer inside.

The contrast between the soft summer dress and your cold, professional expressions sent a shiver down his spine. You looked so untouchable. However, he noticed the blush on your face when the agents complimented you and felt his heart flutter.

He had seen your road to recovery, he noticed you falling asleep at your desk every day, constantly doing work because you had nothing else to do and he wondered if it would be weird if he asked you to lunch sometime. For your sake, of course.

Looking at you curled up on the ground, he had wished he had done it sooner.

“You shouldn’t strain yourself before you’re ready.” He muttered, feeling tongue tied next to the girl he had been infatuated with from a distance.

You could only nod. This whole-time people had been telling you the same thing and you always retorted with confidence, saying that you were as good as ready to get back on the field. Never in your wildest dreams would you have thought they were right.

“I’m Iron Fist.”

“(Y/N).”

“I know.” His answer came a little too fast and had you raising a brow. Danny wished he adorned a mask to cover the whole of his face like Spiderman when he felt his cheeks becoming warm, “You write our mission reports. I’m not creepy, I swear.”

You chuckled airily, turning back to the gun that was left on the ground and you pulled it back into your hand before clicking the safety back on before chucking it across the room.

“Thanks for helping me.” 

“I’m glad I was there to help.”

***

After your first meeting, you found him approaching you more often after training. At first it was just ‘hello’s and ‘goodbyes. Then he began asking about your day and you gave him mundane responses before you were forced to ask him how his day was.

Then he started coming early before his training with a cup of tea for you, though it was sometimes juice, sometimes hot cocoa.

Then he started staying late after training and you would give him a bottle of water and complain about him being sweaty.

It was an unlikely friendship but nonetheless, you got closer as the days passed by and once you did, it didn’t take long for you to meet the rest of the team. They kept you company and you grew fond of the rest of them; however, it wasn’t the same way that you felt with Iron Fist.

Your crush on Iron Fist snuck up on you when you were least expecting it but once you realized it you couldn’t stop yourself from falling hard and deep. Still, you continued to hang out with him, pushing down the butterflies whenever he smiled and stopping yourself from grinning too wide whenever you were around him.

You tried to keep your relationship platonic, not wanting to get caught up in it because it was unprofessional. You didn’t even know his identity and you didn’t want to find out. You were afraid that once he revealed that part of his life to you there was no going back on your love for him.

So, you stayed friends, good friends.

***

“So, it all blew up in her face? Huh, I should say I’m surprised but I’m really not.” You said, sighing when Fury handed you the mission file that you had been working on for a year before handing it off to another agent.

“You get to relieve her of her duties and start working again. Effective as of next week.”

You were grinning now. The doctor had given you the all clear a month ago and you had been waiting for a mission to be handed off to you but it had been a quiet month, with no need for undercover or even recon missions.

To get back the mission that you lost when you got shot seemed like the best one to start off again, and you thought your day couldn’t get any better but it seemed like you were having an incredibly good day.

As soon as you exited the room, there stood Iron Fist in all his glory and your excitement got better of you. You bolted right into his arms, catching him off guard with a hug.

“Woah, did something happen?” He asked curiously but still wrapped his arms around you to return the hug. You pulled away, flashing him the mission file in your hand and grinned brightly.

“I finally got cleared for a mission!”

“Congratulations!”

“Thank you! I’m so excited! I have to go and prepare right away!”

“Wha—Right now?” He asked and you nodded frantically, “I’m off in about a week, lots to prepare before that.”

“Well, how long is it going to take?”

“Not sure, oooh, maybe I’ll get relocated someplace cool like Dubai or India or something.”

He didn’t seem to share your enthusiasm but just chuckled in a dejected sort of manner before nodding his head, “Maybe.”

***

“Partner? Fury, I don’t do partners. I am a single lady and would like to stay that way.”

He just sighed, used to your temper tantrums. Though he was honestly wishing he had a mute button on you. You were like the daughter he never wanted. Usually, he maintained a professional relationship with all the other agents but you were like the gem of the department.

Being one of the youngest and most capable of the agents was a reason for many of the older ones to fawn over you. I mean let’s be honest, a baby who can kick ass was adorable!

That always made you more outrageous than the other agents, letting yourself have the temper tantrums and choosing not to be a stiff, boring agent. You knew just how to push Fury to get what you wanted.

“The mission is to go to a socialite party and while you have the skills, you don’t have the contact.”

“That hasn’t stopped me before—”

“We need someone that has the last name to get you in. Besides, after last time, another agent looking after you wouldn’t be such a bad idea.”

Your face fell and Fury knew he made a mistake in choosing his words. Your lip quivered slightly and he heard an agent tut disapprovingly at him and mentally sighed.

“That wasn’t my fault...” You said softly, your voice seemed thick and he knew one wrong move could possibly break the floodgate. He sighed, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, “I know that. But we just want you to be safe. Just in case something goes wrong again, so this time somebody can have your back.”

You nodded sadly, lips in a small pout and eyebrows furrowed. Somewhere in the background he heard another agent whispering to another that Fury was trying to make you cry and felt his eye twitch.

“No one blames you for what happened.”

You nodded wordlessly again, still frowning.

“Tell you what, because it’s your first mission back, you get a higher budget for it.” That was it. Your face brightened like the sun and you giggled childishly, sending him a mischievous smirk as you thanked him.

You disappeared before he could even scold you and Fury then heard the rest of the agents burst into laughter about how you managed to play him.

Again.

***

“Daniel Rand.” You mumbled, looking over the case file. Apparently, he would be your partner for today but it was odd that you never heard of him before. It took you a very short time going through the S.H.I.E.L.D. database to find his name.

‘Daniel Rand, a.k.a. Iron Fist.’

‘WHAT?!’

Daniel Rand? The blond aristocrat that looked like he was picked out of your wildest dreams. With a face that could break hearts and make knees weak, was the confidant and friend that you had been crushing on for weeks now?

Wow, he definitely had a face to match.

Without realizing, you had been staring at his picture for about 5 minutes, fawning over his sharp jaw and deep green eyes with a ridiculous love-sick smile on your face, with your heart fluttering in your chest.

‘God, please, like me.’ You said in your head. So far you had sort of a flirtationship going on with Iron Fist but you wondered if it was the same for Danny. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would intentionally lead you on, but now that you were seeing his face, you realized just how little you knew about him.

He probably had a life of his own and you took up only a sliver of it. Being an agent, you didn’t leave the Helicarrier very often, and you certainly didn’t have too many very friends. You never really realized how much you were missing until you got shot.

Iron Fist, well Daniel, filled the void you felt during your time off but it was also very possible that he didn’t feel the same way, that you were just someone he spent time with to get over his boredom.

Maybe tonight would be the time to change that.

The mission was supposed to take place today, so you woke up bright and early to finish up some things. Go over case files, do a weapon check and pick out your outfit. You were supposed to wear something that would catch people’s attention. And in the back of your head, you also wanted to blow Daniel’s mind right out of his skull.

Red seemed like it would make a statement. So would a bodycon, or maybe a long dress with a high slit. You wanted to go all out for your first mission in months. Maybe even get a few jaw drops.

Finally deciding on an outfit, you quickly texted Daniel.

‘Wear (F/C).’

***

“This guy is coming right?” You asked, bored. You had been ready for about 15 minutes now, looking like you were dripping diamonds and lounging comfortably in Fury’s seat, with your legs thrown over the armrest.

“He’ll be here any minute now.” Said Coulson, checking his phone.

You rolled your eyes, “Why do I feel like this is one of those movie moments where the girl comes down the stairs and the guy is just staring at her with a jaw drop. Or like when the bride walks down the aisle and the groom bursts into tears.”

You sighed, checking your watch again. 20 minutes.

“For someone making me wait this long, he better be so good looking that it makes me cry.”

“Well, I hope I don’t disappoint.”

The new voice certainly turned a few heads and there stood Daniel Rand. The pictures online really did him no justice. Sure, you didn’t cry, but your eyes definitely didn’t feel worthy to be looking something so pretty in the eye.

Before you could help it, a ‘wow’ slipped past your lips and he blushed, having heard you. Wow, he was cute inside and out. Unfortunately, Coulson had to come in where he wasn’t wanted and suggested a quick briefing which you had to agree to.

In the middle of the briefing, Coulson handed you a ring box and you raised a brow, “I’m a little young for you, don’t you think?”

He let out an irritated sigh but you noticed the tips of his ears turn red from embarrassment, “You’re posing as his fiancé. You need an engagement ring to match.”

“Shouldn’t he be getting on his knee then?” You joked, gaping at the size of the diamond for a second before slipping it on, completely missing the way Danny got redder at your teasing, “Wow, it suits me so well one would think I was made to be a socialite’s fiancé.”

Danny didn’t say anything and you brushed it off, putting him off as the shy but cute bookworm who would come through in a difficult situation. As soon as the thought came to mind, you facepalmed. All it took was one good looking guy to mess up your work habits.

“Well, come on honey, we have a party to get to.” You called out teasingly and handed him the keys to the car before strutting to the garages.

Coulson clapped him on the back with a small smirk on his face, “Good luck, honey.”

***

It didn’t take much effort to meet your contact in the party and you quickly left Danny’s side to discreetly to get any information he could pass to you. You quietly chatted with the contact.

Behind you, you vaguely heard a bunch of girls flock around him, giggling shrilly and trying to flirt with him. You resisted rolling your eyes. You had on an engagement ring but Danny’s finger was still bare and even though he might have announced being taken to them, apparently it was necessary for a ring to show his commitment. Something told you that even if he got it tattooed on his forehead, people would still try to flirt with him.

He just had one of those faces. Those faces that made people lose all reason. I mean, you’re slightly annoyed at the girls that have no moral and are shamelessly throwing themselves at him. But really, can you blame them?

Danny was gorgeous. He looked like a Greek Adonis that was sent down from the heavens to grace your eyes. Honestly, you couldn’t take your eyes off him while the two of you were driving down to the party.

Seeing them get handsy was more irritating than It usually would be. As annoying as it was to see these women through all their morals out the window and try and get a taken man to reciprocate their advances, it was more annoying to see them gawk over the guy you were crushing on.

A part of you wanted to just leave him in the car and not have anybody look at him.

But to keep your crush a secret, you maintained your distance from him, talking to the contact in a mixture of different languages so no one would be able to understand. Once you were done, you opted for getting a drink until you saw the pleading look on his face and almost felt bad.

So, you sauntered over to him, cutting right through the throng of girls, disgusted to see that some of them had wedding rings on, right to Danny’s side, snaking an arm around his waist and placing your hand underneath on his chest, giving him a sweet smile.

The shiny engagement ring on your finger caught their attention and they frowned, reminded that they were allowed to look, but not to touch.

“I hope you didn’t miss me too much.” You said, syrupy sweet and loud enough for the girls to hear before turning to them with a charming smile, “I hope my fiancé wasn’t too short with you girls today, he’s very stressed lately, with the wedding planning and all.”

Their faces fell further when you leaned into him and they could all recognize the possessive glint in your eyes. A look that said, I saw you trying to get your hands on something that was mine, you vultures.

The left you two quickly after that, resorting to go gossip in some corner. You wondered if they were snivelling about you but then realized that you shouldn’t be too cocky.

Instead, you turned your unamused gaze to your ‘fiancé’, pulling away from him with a frown.

“I’m assuming that you haven’t come here to flirt with someone else’s wife.”

“I wasn’t flirting though...” He replied innocently and you pursed your lips, resisting the urge to scowl at him. Instead, you just sighed and turned away from him, keeping an eye on the rest of the guests.

If what you were told is true, then someone is going to attempt an assassination on your contact and it was your job to protect him. However, you were distracted once more when he placed a hand on your waist.

You meant to turn around and ask him what he was doing but his grip was strong and he then pressed his lips to your ear. You froze, neck getting uncomfortably hot.

“At the entrance to the foyer.” He mumbled, looking into the mirror that was facing the entrance. Sure, enough you saw it too, the glint that came from the shadows. Someone was there.

The two of you still managed to stay inconspicuous, pretending like you were a couple in love. You turned to him with a smirk, hand going to your thigh where a gun was holstered.

“What do you say about getting out of here?”

With a hand around your waist, he led you to the other end of the room. Just as you expected, a waiter came up to you, trying to guide you elsewhere and you realized that both exits were covered. Grinning up at him, you asked him where the restroom was, giggling in a way that suggested something and he showed you up to the staircase to a hallway. 

Some of the older couples gave you knowing smiles while some of them passed disgusted glances as you made your way to the bathroom that for some reason had a couch in it. Damn, rich people.

You pulled up a schematic of the house, along with security cameras and looked figured out that each one of the exits were covered. Quickly making a plan with Danny, the two of you were about to exit again when you stopped him

You reached up and raked your fingers through his hair, dishevelling it a little before messing up his collar and slightly untucking his shirt. Taking a step back to admire your handiwork, you stopped for a second.

Something was missing.

It quickly occurred to you and you used your thumb to ruin your lipstick a little before smearing it at the base of his neck, “That should be convincing enough. Don’t you think?”

You didn’t give him a moment to answer, not that he even could, with you so close that he could smell your perfume and the scent made him feel dizzy. You pulled away to mess up your own hair and dress.

“How do I look?”

“Dishevelled.”

“Excellent.”

***

“Mission successful, assassination attempt was unsuccessful, contact is safe and being placed into witness protection, assassinators are in custody for questioning. Report 291220. Agent 290803. Phase Beta successful.” You reported into the com set.

Danny was quiet beside you, choosing to pay attention to the road while you deactivated your gadgets for the night. A quick glance from the corner of your eyes made your heart speed up just a little. He was doing that thing where he drove with just one arm.

“You know...” You started, clicking the safety on your gun, avoiding his eyes, “We don’t have to go back to HQ right now? We can get some dinner or something? In the mood for a veggie burger?”

“Is this meant to be platonic?”

“It’s meant to be a date.” You commented. His jaw tightened slightly and you raised a brow at him, did you really make him so uncomfortable?

“I thought you were in a relationship.”

“What?”

“Iron Fist. You like him, don’t you?”

An amused chuckle left you. Of course. He didn’t know you were aware of his secret. Resisting the urge to laugh at him, you shot him a smirk, leaning against your arm.

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

Danny’s hands tightened around the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. He didn’t look at you, instead staring at the road with a steely gaze and for a second you wondered if you shouldn’t have pushed him.

“It’s a little hypocritical of you to nag me for not being loyal in a fake engagement and then going behind Iron Fist’s back, don’t you think?”

His voice was tight and he was gritting his teeth as he talked to you. You sighed, not wanting to upset him, “Not when you’re the same person.”

He jerked.

“Woah! Drive straight dude!”

“You knew?”

You snorted, “Pretty much, yeah. And since when are we in a relationship? I don’t remember you ever asking me out?”

His cheeks coloured, embarrassed and he looked away from your gaze, “I was planning to.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

You continued in a comfortable silence while he drove. You weren’t really paying attention to where he was driving, choosing to look at him with a small smile. He really was beautiful. Judging by his red ears, he was well aware of your staring.

Eventually, he pulled into a parking space and you were mildly surprised to see he had driven you to a McDonalds. You grinned at him and he returned the smile, getting out of the car to open your door before taking your hand.

“You owe me a date.”

You sent him a soft smile, curling your finger underneath his chin before pulling him in for a gentle kiss. He returned it immediately, slightly pushing you onto the car door and gripping your hips. You pulled away, giggling when you realized some of your lipstick was now staining his.

Chuckling, you leaned up until your lips were brushing against his ear, “Hey genius, you still haven’t asked me out yet.”

Forever Taglist: @simonsbluee

USM Taglist: @imcarolinashannon

[1kook]

skirt chasers - drabble i

a skirt chasers drabble bc they are my fave fictional couple to date <333

tags: coupley and domestic, jk’s terrible attempts at seducing via text, making out, dry humping, spitting (ik idk what came over me), too much talking for this to be sexual pero hey here we are wc: like 3k

entirely based off jungkook from bv3 that man had NO right to look that good and  the holy jirkenstocks (jungkook birkenstocks). wont lie this has been completely written in my drafts since November (yes 2019) and i hoarded it under the belief i would make this a whole part 2 which i did not 

que dios los bendiga <3

-

Much to everyone’s dismay, Jungkook’s spring break in Vegas with the boys is cut three days short when Jimin’s dog sitter suddenly cancels, citing a case of homesickness as enough cause to abruptly go home. When you first hear news of this, you’re preparing yourself for the return of a mopey, useless Jungkook, too drained from four glorious days in Las Vegas to carry on. What you’re not expecting is the mysterious text he sends you before boarding a five hour flight with no service (he was cheap).

kook still on vegas lockdown. Have that pussy ready when i get home

“The fuck does that mean?” Chaeyoung is the first to see the message, your screen lighting up on the kitchen counter beside you as you scrub through a mountainous pile of dishes. You try to play it off, after all, Chaeyoung had seen parts of you you hadn’t even seen, but there was no worse embarrassment than having your homegirls see your clown of a boyfriend’s ridiculousness. “He’s so romantic,” she swoons, and you shoo her away from the offending device as you wipe your hands down on your t-shirt. 

you for what?? One 20 second round 🤥

Chaeyoung suddenly cackles from over your shoulder, and you swear your soul leaves your body. 

You don’t get a response until exactly five hours and thirteen minutes later, your phone vibrating like crazy on the edge of your bathtub, and if you hadn’t given it a hearty kick and sent it flying across the room, front screen shattering into the most intricate spider web of glass shards, it would have fallen into the water. The terror. 

kook pls pick me up 

kook also haha. U r soooo funny 😑

You’re halfway to the airport, idly sitting in traffic and giving the public a free, Beyonce-like experience of The Script’s Breakeven, when you realize you’re not wearing any pants. You’re not exactly sure which part of Jungkook’s long t-shirt had tricked you into believing you were decently dressed, but you’re not too mad. After all, Jungkook’s trip with the boys had been a last minute decision that did not take into consideration your never-ending thirst for your boyfriend, so a little payback never hurt anybody. 

He’s sitting on top of his suitcase outside the airport when you get there, cute Birkenstock-clad feet swinging back and forth as he waits for you like the good boy he is. He crouches down by the passenger window, “Uh, yeah, is this the Uber?” 

You can’t even bother hiding the smile that consumes your face, and it only grows tenfold when he finally gets in and immediately leans over the center console to kiss you. “Look who’s finally back from their little bachelor party,” you murmur, eyes lidded dangerously low when he breaks away. 

“Oh, the party where I accidentally sleep away my life-savings to a stripper named Aries and then have to go home and beg for my wife’s forgiveness?” He responds immediately, devious pink tongue swiping out to lick at your bottom lip. 

You snort. “Joke’s on you, because our hot pool boy kept me company and treated me better in four days than my husband had in six years,” you mumble, finger looping into the silver chain around his neck to pull him close again. 

“Not our hot pool boy,” he whines, smile pressed adorably to your lips. 

You almost retort, but a ten-second horn blast from the car behind you has the two of you jumping three feet from each other, like teenagers caught making out in the school parking lot. 

-

Just as you’d predicted via text, Jungkook barely has the energy to walk up the steps to your apartment, much less fuck you like he’d promised. “Fuck, stop being healthy and let us take the elevator,” he grunts, pushing his suitcase onto the final platform leading to your floor.

“Nope,” you concede. “The stairs give me a good view of your ass going up.”

He shoots you a scandalized look, like you’re an old man who’d just catcalled him on the street. “Pretty sure that’s my line.”

It’s when you’re unlocking the front door, sending out a little prayer to the heavens (Chaeyoung) for the blessing of an empty apartment, that he notices your lack of proper clothing. “Oh, hell no,” he groans, immediately crowding you against the armchair nearest the door. 

You laugh, struggling to turn to face him as he nuzzles his face into your neck. “What seems to be the problem?”

He sighs against the shell of your ear, and you’d be a liar to say it didn’t send a gush of wetness to your core. Jesus, just a single puff of air from Jungkook was enough to turn your coochie into a Fruit Gusher. “Not your sexy legs again,” he whines, and you giggle when he presses those pouty lips to yours. 

“Thought I was supposed to have this pussy ready for you,” you tease, tilting your head up until your noses brush against each other. Jungkook lets a soft huff of a sigh go, eyes fluttering shut at your close proximity. 

There’s a hand that creeps along the back of your thigh, fingers pressing into the soft skin until he finally guides it upwards, hitched over his hip. The new position has your body curving backwards, tilted over the edge of the couch as he continues crowding closer and closer to you. “Baby,” he whines, and the tone and sudden usage of your favorite nickname wipes the teasing smile off your face. “I missed you so much,” he purrs, in that tone that says he knows he has you under his complete control, all he has to do is take care of you. 

Still, you try to put up some sort of a fight. “I’m sure your eyes were kept entertained in Vegas,” you retort weakly, not even bothering to hide the jealousy in your tone. 

Jungkook laughs, before puckering his lips and smothering you. Instantly, you throw your arms around his broad shoulders to pull him closer. His hair tickles your face from how long it’s gotten, and when you brush it back, collecting it into a makeshift baby ponytail, you can’t even enjoy the sight because Jungkook is pressing his rock hard member against your inner thigh. 

“You think I’m a cheater?” He muses when he finally pulls away, a little entranced by the saliva that coats your lips in a thin sheen. “Couldn’t be even if I wanted to.” Before you can ask what that even means, he’s hauling you into his arms, your legs wrapping around his tiny waist, his cock now cradled between your thighs, right where you want him most. You moan immediately, head lolling backwards at the touch you’d craved for days. “Feel that? No one gets my dick hard like you do, baby.”

Even though his adrenaline is on one hundred, and he’s clearly blinded by his lust, Jungkook still sets you down on the bed like you’re made of glass. Any comments you may have made are smothered by his lips on yours, fingers gripping your waist like it’s the first time he’s ever touched you. When he pulls away, his eyes are dark and his breath is a little heavy where it fans against the lower half of your face. 

“So pretty,” he huffs, rolling his hips against yours. You groan, eyes rolling back as the familiar feeling of your boyfriend between your legs consumes you. Jungkook presses his mouth against the skin of your neck, where the faintest sheen of sweat had begun to form the moment you unlocked the front door. 

If you thought you were loud, the sounds leaving Jungkook’s throat are teetering on the edge between a pornstar and a yodelling-enthusiast. You can’t help the smirk crossing your features. “Are you really gonna come?”

Jungkook was many things, and drama queen was definitely very high on that list. He gives you the most scandalized expression, stopping the movement of his hips to scoff. “As if,” he snorts, but you know that little eyebrow furrow a little too well. 

You snort, reaching down to his sides as you try to discreetly urge him to start up again. “Baby, your jaw is twitching,” you point out, a soft whine leaving your lips when he shifts your leg up. It’s this same sound that has him finally moving again. 

“Yeah, well,” he groans, one hand deathly gripping into your hip now, pressing you down onto the bed so hard you feel the comforter will swallow you up any minute now. “I just got my wisdom teeth removed, ‘member?”

Your retort is briefly cut off by the cry you let out when he ducks down to suck a mark beneath your jaw. “M-Months ago,” you weakly respond, 

Jungkook ignores you in favor of using his Hulk strength to fold you in half, groans borderline animalistic as he grinds his cock into your soaked panties. His jaw is tight like you’d said, but you can tell he’s holding himself back. He hated coming before you, seldom doing it unless it was one of those rare days where he wanted you to pamper him. 

“Fuck,” he grunts, swallowing your pitiful whines before pushing his tongue down your throat. There was something sexy about your boyfriend being so turned on that his saliva production was off the charts. “You’re gonna ask me to do that thing again, aren’t you?” He predicts. 

All you can do is nod, and Jungkook smirks. “Ah,” he says, much like a doctor would, and you comply, mouth wide. You see the muscles beneath his jaw twitch, and a moment later he’s leaning over you with puckered lips, a glob of saliva begging to drip down. 

The moan that catches in your throat has him smiling, tongue peeking out to cut the bridge of saliva that connected the two of you, and you want to tell him you love him, but then he’s raising his eyebrows at you, motioning for you to swallow, so you do. “Absolutely filthy,” he grins, and then returns to thrusting against you. 

As much as you liked to tease him, he’s good at fulfilling the sexual aspects of his boyfriend role, and he guides you to your orgasm moments later. Of course, he does so by toying with your tits just the way you like, lips pressed firmly to yours as you become a boneless heap beneath him. “That’s it, pretty baby,” he murmurs, pressing one final kiss to your lips before he’s shifting back onto his haunches, tugging you closer until the backs of your knees are cradled carefully in his elbows. 

Despite your transcended state, you love watching Jungkook get himself off, and your eyes flutter as you watch him thrust sloppily against your soiled panties. They’re soaked by your own arousal, and had Jungkook’s sweats not been as dark as they were, you’re almost certain you’d see how they stained. 

He comes a moment later, body twitching and fingers tightening against your skin. His chest heaves, head lolling back as he tries to regain his senses. Silence envelopes the room. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You blurt, no longer able to pretend like something isn’t completely wrong. 

Jungkook rolls his neck out, a satisfying crack resounding, as he angles to look at you again. His tongue is poking against his cheek in that cocky way it does sometimes, and he furrows his brows at you. “What?”

You shuffle up onto your elbows, motioning towards him with the vaguest wave possible. He blinks. You groan. 

“What did you do?” You question, and immediately his eyes go wide and shiny in that way they do when you’re reprimanding him and he doesn’t see the wrong in his ways. 

Cute little lips forming a pout he remains as confused. “Nothing? We really just went to fuck around and get drunk—“

“Kook.”

“You don’t actually think I cheated, I thought we were just joking? Unless…” he trails off, doe eyes suddenly filled with fear. “You weren’t?”

“Jungkook—“

He intercepts you, “did you do something while I was gone? Who was he? Or she? Wow,” he huffs to himself in disbelief. “I don’t even know you well enough to know if you’re into more than just men.” The frown on his face is getting deeper with each word he utters and you almost can’t believe how dumb he could be. “No wonder… am I a terrible boyfriend?” He asks, voice louder and more concerned than it’s been all night. 

“What the fuck are you even talking about?” You say, and Jungkook looks just as lost by your response as you are with his. “Because I’m talking about whatever this is,” you explain, reaching up to drag a hand through his dual-colored locks. 

They’d been carefully tucked under his bucket hat when you’d picked him up, a tuft of blonde peeking out from in front of his ear. It wasn’t until he’d tipped you over the side of the couch that it had tumbled off. Of course, at the time, there had been other pressing matters at hand than wondering why your Hannah Montana blonde boyfriend had returned as Todoroki, which is why you’d waited until now to revisit the topic. 

Jungkook doesn’t move for a solid ten seconds. Then, as if processing the emotional episode he’d just given you, he gives you a sheepish smile. It’s one of those smiles where his lips press together thinly and cutely and the apples of his cheeks seem like the squishiest things in the world. “Oh…” he says, voice soft and nothing like the man that spit in your mouth five minutes ago. “You like it?”

[wellhalesbells]

✨✨ TOP FIVES FOR 2020 ✨✨

2020 was, i think we can all agree, a massively chaotic year but i have never consumed as much media before in my life, so i thought others might benefit from my slothery uh, connoisseur.... ship?  yes, that.  below are the books, comics, shows, and movies that got me through!

B O O K S .

the starless sea, by erin morgenstern - i loooove this book because it loves me back.  it says: ‘oh, you’re a reader, well i have just the thing for you.’  it luxuriates in language and story and riddles and fairy tales and it feels like an entire library in a single tome.

they never learn, by layne fargo - oh fuuuuuck, this was satisfying.  i thought it might feel a little exploitative as it is very aware of the zeitgeist and likely would not exist without the #metoo movement but it never ever did.  this was a fucking ROMP, period.  reading about a woman getting away with murdering skeezy guy after rapey guy after shitty human just made me happier and happier.

moonflower murders, by anthony horowitz - this is the second in the susan ryeland series (and the first was hardcore good fun too) and really feels very classic mystery with the artful twist of catering to the literary community.  mainly because: susan isn’t a detective, she’s an editor and she gets drafted in this time because the clue to what happened to a missing woman is in a book she edited, if she can find it.  both of the books in this series have such an excellent coming together moment that is rare af to find.

the invisible life of addie larue, by v.e. schwab - the writing in this is just so good.  it has that feel to me where i just want to drop the book and open up my own page and let my fingers fly.  it’s that inspiring kind of writing that reminds you of all the things language can do.

crown of feathers/heart of flames, by nicki pau preto - aaahhh, this series is SO FREAKING GOOD!  why is there not more of a fandom for it, why???? it is so many of my favorite tropes all resting perfectly together to the point where you almost forget they’re tropes because they just so naturally evolved there.  ugh, it’s just.... it’s so heart-bursty good.

.... number 5, part 2?  raybearer, by jordan ifueko - this was just so original and i was invested af.  like, what a brilliant idea though and an even better execution??  i loved every character and am so looking forward to the next in the series so i can get to know them even better!!

honorable mentions (sh*t i still liked a whole heckuva lot): you/hidden bodies, by caroline kepnes // writers & lovers, by lily king // i’ll be gone in the dark, by michelle mcnamara // the faceless old woman who secretly lives in your home, by joseph fink & jeffrey cranor // girl, serpent, thorn, by melissa bashardoust // a little life, by hanya yanagihara // the guinevere deception, by kiersten white // obsidio (and the entire illuminae series), by amie kaufman & jay kristoff // the bone houses, by emily lloyd-jones // house of salt and sorrows, by erin a. craig // we hunt the flame, by hafsah faizal // savage legion, by matt wallace // blacktop wasteland, by s.a. cosby // crier’s war, by nina varela // the empress of salt and fortune/when the tiger came down the mountain, by nghi vo // upright women wanted, by sarah gailey // the monster of elendhaven, by jennifer giesbrecht // a deadly education, by naomi novik // you let me in, by camilla bruce // when you ask me where i’m going, by jasmin kaur // the lights go out in lychford/last stand in lychford (and the entire lychford series), by paul cornell // the devil and the dark water, by stuart turton // serpent & dove, by shelby mahurin // one by one, by ruth ware // ruthless gods (this was SUCH an upshot from the first book - it’s worth sticking with if you’re on the fence), by emily a. duncan // cemetery boys, by aiden thomas // the inheritance games, by jennifer lynn barnes // the fortunate ones (2021 release), by ed tarkington

C O M I C S .

cosmoknights, by hannah templer - the art was gorgeous, the gayness was glorious, and just.... hot HOOOOOOOOT lady knights in space?!  a princess winning her own hand?  find something not to love in there, i dare you.

don’t go without me, by rosemary valero-o’connell - wow. wow wow wow wow wow.  the writing was stunning, so lyrical and atmospheric and deep, and rosemary has to be one of my favorite artists but even that managed to come as a beautiful surprise because it was just so freaking bold.

through the woods, by emily carroll - i loooove emily carroll, the convergence of spine-tingling horror and art that feeds into it, that is both visually and aesthetically pleasing, is hard to beat!  p.s. i also read beneath the dead oak tree from her this year and it was also a BANGER.

the impending blindness of billie scott, by zoe thorogood - zoe is someone that i just want to follow.  she’s just starting and i want to be there for every single step.  i love her art style and her ability to tell a story with it.

above the clouds, by melissa pagluica - this was so unique, and such a baller concept, as nearly half the entire book is conveyed only through the art and yet you’re never once lost, never once confused as to what any character is thinking or feeling.  it’s a story within a story and only one of those gets words though they both are chock full of emotion!

um.... number 5, part 2? crowded, by christopher sebela - everything about this series is fun af.  crowd-funded assassination and a hirable bodyguard who’s rated like an uber driver???  and the chemistry between the two mains is so great and gay!!

honorable mentions: monster and the beast, by renji // long exposure, by kam ‘mars’ heyward // fence, by c.s. pacat // invisible kingdom, by g. willow wilson // ms. marvel, by g. willow wilson // heathen, by natasha alterici // not drunk enough, by tess stone // giant days, by john allison // die, by kieron gillen // be prepared, by vera brosgol // ascender (sequel to descender, which is also great), by jeff lemire // the unbeatable squirrel girl, by ryan north // bang! bang! boom!, by melanie schoen // gideon falls, by jeff lemire // life of melody, by mari costa // cry wolf girl, by ariel slamet ries // the tea dragon society, by katie o’neill // ptsd, by guillaume singelin // heartstopper, by alice oseman // solutions and other problems, by allie brosh // finding home, by hari conner // the magic fish, by trung le nguyen // something is killing the children, by james tynion iv // the weight of them, by noelle stevenson // spill zone, by scott westerfeld // skyward, by joe henderson // miles morales, by saladin ahmed

F I L M S.

parasite, dir. bong joon ho - oh it was satisfying, oh it was suspenseful, oh i had to watch some of it through my fingers but i loooooooved it.  such a good story and so well made.

knives out, dir. rian johnson - okay, everything about this movie was amazing.  every single character was fun as hell and i could’ve watched an entire movie about each of them.  what a great fucking mystery!

blindspotting, dir. carlos lopez estrada -  this made my heart hurt so damn much.  what glorious writing, acting, and story!

portrait of a lady on fire, dir. celine sciamma - gooooorgeous cinematography, amazing chemistry, and such a soft, atmospheric film.

the farewell, dir. lulu wang - i cried and my heart felt so full and i love it so so much.

um.... number 5, part 2? someone great, dir. jennifer kaytin robinson - no part of me expected to love a netflix movie this much but it’s a love story that doesn’t get told that often??  the end of a relationship and the true love of friendship and i love these girls and i love jenny and nate’s broken relationship.

honorable mentions: eighth grade, dir. bo burnham // booksmart, dir. olivia wilde // midsommar, dir. ari aster // the curse of la llorona, dir. michael chaves // the secret life of pets 2, dirs. chris renaud & jonathan del val // jojo rabbit, dir. taika waititi // the invisible man, dir. leigh whannell // the favourite, dir. yorgos lanthimos // can you ever forgive me?, dir. marielle heller // troop zero, dirs. bert & bertie // ready or not, dirs. matt bettinelli-olpin & tyler gillett // brave, dirs. mark andrews & brenda chapman & steve purcell // the half of it, dir. alice wu // palm springs, dir. max barbakow // doctor sleep, dir. mike flanaghan // uncut gems, dirs. benny sadfie & josh sadfie // birds of prey, dir. cathy van // bloodshot, dir. dave wilson // the old guard, dir. gina prince-bythewood // enola holmes, dir. harry bradbeer // hocus pocus, dir. kenny ortega // always be my maybe, dir. nahnatchka khan // finding dory, dirs. andrew stanton & angus maclane // die hard, dir. john mctiernan

S H O W S .

black sails (2014) - this show, this shooooooooow.  i cannot, it just makes me want to cry with how good it is.  the characters, the EMOTIONS, the story, the plaaaaaan.  like, the creators clearly had a plan for every single step of this show and it was a gOOD, GOOD PLAN.

the untamed (2019) - truly, cheesy good fun with one of the best gay romances ever.  i love these characters and their relationships to each other and the way it glories in its own ridiculousness.

the righteous gemstones (2019) - one of the things that bothered me about my next choice (the ratio of female to male nudity) was so much more realistic in this one (i mean, we’ve all gotten five thousand dick pics and i know like three people?  so the fact that there is so rarely male nudity in shows when there are tits everywhere..... no, how does that even make a tiny bit of sense?).  this show was such great, wonderful, awful fun.  they’re not great people and the show is under no delusion about that and it’s GLORIOUS!

the witcher (2019) - this was just hella fun, i loved the characters and the fantasy elements.  i’m excited for the next season, it’s just entertaining swashbuckling through and through!

fargo (2014) - all of this was really very enjoyable with the through line being somebody fucks shit up and gets involved in something they really shouldn’t be involved in that’s going to swallow them whole.  season one and season three were my stand-out favorites but they were all so violent, clever, and vicious!

um.... number 5, part 2? central park (2020) - um..... so many of the hamilton actors in a muscial cartoon drawn and written by the bob’s burgers team? WHAT ABOUT THAT DOESN’T SOUND AMAZING?!  it was such a joy to hear daveed diggs and leslie odom jr.’s voices again!!

honorable mentions: schitt’s creek // the mandalorian // mr. robot // broadchurch // mindhunter // jack ryan // the good place // the end of the f***ing world // big little lies // elite // kidding // servant // letterkenny // curb your enthusiasm // i am not okay with this // ozark // buzzfeed unsolved: true crime/supernatural // you // runaways // dear white people // dickinson // brooklyn nine-nine // will & grace // 9-1-1 // dead to me // solar opposites // never have i ever // killing eve // what we do in the shadows // grace and frankie // avenue 5 // roswell, new mexico // the bold type // evil // tuca & bertie // impulse // the umbrella academy // watchmen // infinity train // corporate // search party // on becoming a god in central florida // a.p. bio // criminal: uk // the morning show // mythic quest // last week tonight // prodigal son // the great

[demonfox38]

Okay. Made it through the last season of Netflix's "Castlevania" interpretation. Thoughts are below the cut.

I've often thought of this series as the exploitation version of "Castlevania," and hiring Malcom McDowell confirms that.

Although, I find it hilarious that both Malcolm McDowell and Patrick Stewart have ended up voicing the same character. I'm sure there's a "Star Trek Generations" joke to be made in there, but I'm not Mike Stoklasa.

Also, I was cracking up a bit when Varney's plot twist happened. Mostly, because it came off a bit Skeletor-esque in vocal performance.

Also, also—laughing that the final boss went the "Castlevania: Lament of Innocence" route despite barely touching on that game's plot.

Animation had its ups and downs with this season. It seemed like there were some frame issues (not enough inbetweening.) I do appreciate how they incorporated more of Alucard's SOTN animations into his fights, however.

Additionally, some of the fight scenes' pacing seemed to have issues, particularly regarding weapon recovery.

The whole bit with St. Germain was off. Like, he's a weird asshole in "Castlevania: Curse of Darkness", but he's more of a weird asshole there in the same way that casually encountering "Doctor Who"'s Doctor would also be strange. Not a straight up villainous boob. Kinda makes sense thematically to have another character who is willing to do horrible shit for their lost loved one, but the series honestly did not do a good job establishing her. Like, did she even have a voice actor? Or a name? All I'm saying is it was much easier for outsiders to get the Lisa revenge thing Dracula had going.

Also, how dare you joke about not being deaf and then have a villainous monologue, TV show.

Greta's a good girl. Well, outside of being an occasional homewrecker. Point is, she's competent and trying her best to save people in a bad situation, and anyone having issues with her is not to be trusted in the same way that you don't trust people who don't like Rochelle from "Left 4 Dead 2."

Look at me. Do not trust people who do not like Rochelle from "Left 4 Dead 2." Yes, her writing could have been better, but she's still a viable character. Let people Thunder Child their ships on the rocks of your better self. Got me?

Also, y'all really need to embrace more polyamory. Or understand the fact that Alucard's not going to love just one person in his life. Dude lives to be at least 600 in the game's timeline. For a dude who loves humans, constricting him to just one who may live to be 100 at best is cruel.

There are some interesting philosophical dialogues going on here, but I can see where some people may lose their patience for them. Considering one of Castlevania's most popular memes is a philosophy debate, you're just gonna have to suck that up. My personal favorites included the topic of acting versus reacting, as well as having agency in one's story.

Striga's battle theme was cool, but otherwise, the music was forgettable. Yes, that is a sin. Punishable by Death? In this series, maybe!

The gore's still over the top. Which, okay, fine. There's a bit of that in game. It's just generally a bit more reserved with it or uses it in crucial boss fights.

RIP doggie.

The Targoviste plot's a bit of a wash, but it doesn't feel as useless as Trevor and Sypha's previous plot predicament. It's just nothing of a surprise, considering how many times the writing has played the "authority figures are useless" and "dark secret surprise" tropes in this series. Like, Greta being reliable is actually more surprising than anything with this plot.

I cannot emphasize enough how boring I found Carmilla's interpretation and plot arc. You guys could have had a giant, naked lesbian riding a skull and spewing magic at people while her cat-eared girlfriend jumped them for extra damage. But no. Vanilla lady with a scarlet sword for you. So long. Farewell. Auf Wiedersehen. Good night.  

Gotta say, as much of a deviation from his source character as he is, Isaac really turned out well in this series. He's definitely evidence that you don't always need to stick to source material.

His Abel is fucking sick, dude. Way to go, king.

Also, I was expecting more violence from Hector this season. Oh, well. At least he got a teeny bit of a spine.

Look. I'm not an alchemist by any means. I'm just a bit baffled by this season's emphasis of obtaining a Rebis. Like, any time the game series has talked about the Magnum Opus of Alchemy, it's more been in pursuit of making a Philosopher's Stone (or at the very least, a Crimson Stone, as seen in "Castlevania: Lament of Innocence.") Pulling a Rebis out of the aether is…well. Could have been more interesting than it was. I mean, it was a bit nightmarish, but it really didn't do much.

Sypha's really never getting back to her family, is she?

Love the idea that the cross subweapon is basically a fancy chakram.

GERGOTH. BUDDY. FRIENDO.

Really appreciating the monster variety in these last two seasons. I mean, that's a big selling point of the "Castlevania" games. Not so much vampires standing around and bickering in dick-waving contests.

Breaking out of the bullet points to hit on the big subject of this season—that is, the ending being surprisingly happy.

There's been a lot of shit that's happened over the last few years. Obviously, a pandemic. Konami's run by pricks. Then, there's the situation with the allegations of sexual coercion with Warren Ellis. Additionally, the terrible ending of "Game of Thrones" likely impacted how this season was developed, considering it seemed to be chasing its progression in construction. (I mean, look at Carmilla and Daenerys.) I don't know how many people were happy with the last season of "Castlevania," but from my POV, it double-tapped itself in the foot with the way it pushed simultaneous sex and violence in its last two episodes. My point is, there was little taste for additional darkness, considering everything that has been happening. Society is drained.

A happy ending was what people really wanted. And man, did this pull through, in that regard. But, there's a conversation to be had in if this swerved too far or if it violates some artistic integrity to give people what they want. So, let's have it.

Look. Man. Have you seen a "Castlevania" ending? When you do it right, it's crumbled castles and rainbow-colored skies. If you do it really right, it results in a pretty girl holding the main character's hand. There is happiness in these games. Hope. Forgiveness and redemption. If this is supposed to be any bit an accurate interpretation of these games, it absolutely should end in such a joyful fashion. (Okay, maybe giving Dracula and Lisa a second honeymoon at the end was a bit much, but I get where people would want that.)

Did some items need to be addressed more? Absolutely. Alucard staking people and Hector getting sexually coerced into servitude are some pretty big topics to just wave away. (Oh, shit. That second part is even worse now with what Ellis was allegedly doing, isn't it?) I suppose I'm just glad the series didn't go full Sephiroth with Alucard. And at least Hector finally took some stand in his situation, even if it wasn't the bombastic, hateful revenge I'm used to seeing from this character in other stories.

I think the creators of this series were trying to save this show from the fate of "Game of Thrones." (To some extent, perhaps the "Voltron" re-interpretation as well.) There's so much media out there anymore that if a production team doesn't nail the ending, their creation gets wiped out of the collective consciousness. To that extent, I think the creators were successful in saving their series. Did it do damage to itself in yanking out of its construction and themes? A bit. But, in doing so, it pivoted back to being more like a proper "Castlevania" product. (And of course, by proper, I mean anything ignoring "Lords of Shadows." God, people need to stop chasing other products when developing "Castlevania" stuff and just let the series be as it is.)

I am very curious as to how much of this season was part of an original draft and how much was revised in backlash to everything that has happened. It doesn't seem like Trevor was intended to survive, but to some extent, Sypha had to. (I mean, until she has a kid, anyway. See "Lords of Shadows" series for dickery regarding that.) I'm also wondering if there was more intended for the Carmilla subplot, as much as the series was banging on about her invading locations. I'm not even sure St. Germain was intended to be a villain all along. Getting into a bitchfight with Death? Sure. Doing what he did here? That's a weird arc, dude.

If you come away from my POV with anything, it should be this: GO PLAY THE GAMES.

Do it. Do it, you ghouls. Go to the Steam store and download the "Castlevania Anniversary Collection." Boot up your PS3 or 4 or 18 or whatever and get "Symphony of the Night." Throttle Nintendo's stores until "Aria of Sorrow" or "Dawn of Sorrow" or "Harmony of Dissonance" or whatever rattles out of their moldy pockets. Find a ROM. Find an ISO. Just play a game. Especially, one of the ones made before 2010.

"Castlevania" as a game series isn't about hordes of vampires dick-waving at each other or edgy swearing or being grim and dark. Some of that stuff's there, sure. But, at its core, it's what game developers created when they looked at Universal Monster Movie creations and went "That's cool. Let's fight that!" It's a series about pushing technology in MMC chips to make rich, vibrant music. It's about flourishing artwork and layers of sprites dripping particles and gore onto players. It's sober and goofy and very pro curry.

The thing is, "Castlevania" players have their own unique connection to the series. We're the weirdos you see clapping their hands when a mutilated dinosaur shows up on screen. It's not because the monster alone is cool. It's that we've fought and struggled and bodied that thing through several floors like a goddamn "X-Men: Children of the Atom" stage. It's kicked our asses. We've kicked its ass. We've got a connection to it that you just don't get from passively watching it barf lasers through a computer monitor or TV screen. Like, you know how people go, "Well, the movie wasn't as good as the book?" It's obnoxious, sure. But, those who read the source materials have to go to the effort of constructing their own sets and people to understand what's happening. In a similar fashion, game players build up their own skill set to reach that next rung.

Maybe you don't always get a payout when you invest your resources into something. But, there is a sense of accomplishment, seeing what you can do.

There's a reason this series got an adaptation. I mean, outside of Konami's head executives wanting easy money. "Castlevania" is a fantastic video game series. Has it got a few problems? Oh yeah. Especially after outsourcing and pachislot machines became all the rage. But, there's a reason Simon and Richter Belmont are playable in "Super Smash Bros. Ultimate." There's a reason I spent a significant amount of time playing these games and writing or drawing fanworks for it. These games are wonderful. Beautiful. Difficult, but inspiring. Reasons I will still bang on about them decades years down the road.

When I get exasperated by layers of angst and edge lord content this Netflix series generated, I want you to know why. The roots of this show are good games held captive under poor management. Some people on staff know this. I wish they had more scenario and writing control. But mostly, I don't want to shit on them or their work. (Well, other than perhaps the obvious target.) I just want you to see what I love in these games.

And also to watch Crashervania. Because that's legit.

[mallowstep]

Just saying on the whole: I decided on Brackenpelt and Mintfur's personalities, this blogs anon's (and a bit you, no offense) literally decided to kick canon Reedwhisker to the curb, he now looks like Oakheart, and he's a sweetheart and a bit of an idiot who tries his best to protectand tell on Hawkfrost? (I've not read past TNP, so idk if he's actually like this so if he is forgive me.)

oh my god i. i can't.

okay so i have this thing that. is kind of long and convoluted to explain and also i neither want nor have to but i have this thing about repeating work. i can't do it. like i physically cannot make myself do it. if something interrupts what i am doing, and i lose what i wrote for an ask, i cannot make myself rewrite it. the thought alone is enough to make me want to cry.

so. i was. god. i can't even -- even summarizing what i wrote is very difficult for me. so i'm just going to jump in to where i was writing, maybe back up a little, because i was having fun talking about character arcs, and -- y'all can just deal.

(n.b. when i bring this up, people tend to suggest things like drafting responses to asks in software with autosave, or just saving responses to asks as drafts periodically. the answer is always, "i know that's an option, and it doesn't work for me for any number of reasons." while i appreciate the care, i'd rather save us all the time.)

(but to respond as quickly as i can to your actual ask -- i change background characters all the time, and no one has ever commented on it. secondly, while i often enjoy what anons offer me from different ideas, i'd prefer if we don't -- treat them as mine, perhaps? hm. not sure how to phrase that well and i want to move on now.)

anyway, basically, i'm rambling about decisions anons make and why i wouldn't personally make them. because i was in the middle of a thought, i'm going to have to back up a little, but -- i'm going to try to save myself some time and pain and just make one starting statement and then move on.

while i'm about to explain why i wouldn't make the following choices, that does not make them bad choices. in fact, i often enjoy responding to your asks with snippets utilizing these choices. they're just not choices i would independently make, but that doesn't make them bad. i just like to ramble about character arcs, and this gives me an excuse

reedpaw interfering with hawkpaw's dreams of the dark forest

the arc i have planned for hawkfrost revolves around no one knowing about the dark forest. it is essential to tigerstar's manipulation of him that no one knows. it is fundamental to his character arc.

so -- i can't just throw in reedpaw interfering. it would change every character's arc. and i like my arc for hawkfrost. i do not think it is benefitted by reedpaw interacting with it.

(this is kind of what i mean -- i've greatly enjoyed writing the drama that comes of reedpaw interfering, but i would never choose to have him interfere in independent content.)

reedkit being born not long after hawkkit, mothkit, and frogkit

this is the piece i'm most angry to have lost. i had -- guys i had a very good explanation of this one. it's. i will do my best because -- i don't know.

i am very -- the misty au matters to me. unlike the other aus, the misty au is mine. it is not some web of ideas, it is my au, and while i adore seeing everyone play with it, it often feels like -- handing someone a rubiks cube, watching them fiddle with it, and then, when they give it back to you, you solve it in a few moments. (i did speed cubing personal best was 27s, although i doubt i could get anywhere close to that now.)

like, you hand me this idea. mistyfoot has another kit about six moons after hawkkit, mothkit, and frogkit. i nod as you explain, am excited to see you so excited about it, but i cannot simply leave the cube unsolved. it is a compulsion of a sort. you hand me an unsolved cube, and i will solve it. i don't mean to, sometimes. it is simply that i know the patterns so well, and the process of observing and solving a cube is so instinctual, that i look for the best cross without realizing what i am doing, start to solve without meaning to.

and -- in this case, this is me solving the cube, this explanation. i have inserted this metaphor in part to explain why i feel i must try to explain this once again, why i am -- now that the chance, the idea of covering this topic has been raised, i cannot set it down.

so. although it is difficult, i want to tell you why i wouldn't choose to do this. again. there will be less couching this time, as there always is, so review my -- i don't think you're wrong, i just wouldn't make these choices -- above. i mean it.

reedkit being born changes every character's arc inherently. i've mentioned this in passing, but it fundamentally changes every single character's arc. for the main seven, it is a direct and tangible change, and for others, it is a ripple effect, and no stone is left unturned.

but i will use mistyfoot's arc as a catch-all, to explain my reason for not making this choice.

mistyfoot -- okay, if reedkit is born, mistyfoot's primary focus is no longer feathertail. i'm not one for "one child is loved more" stories. i don't like writing them. so. mistyfoot's focus is split between reedkit and feathertail.

and that is a problem. because -- feathertail is the most important thing in the world to mistyfoot. in an unhealthy way at first, but in a healthy way, later on. it is Unhealthy for mistyfoot to base her every action around how it affects feathertail; it is healthy for mistyfoot's top priority to be feathertail. codependency vs being a parent.

so. why is that a problem? well -- because it changes a lot of things, but most importantly, or at least, most close to the main time period the misty au covers, it changes how mistyfoot builds a relationship with hawk, moth, and frog.

because -- well, let's back up for a moment.

mistyfoot does not go in the nursery once. despite the fact that it is feathertail, that before and after this, they are nearly inseparable (unhealthily before, heathily after), she does not visit feathertail in the nursery a single time.

[insert a tangent about mistyfoot being in the nursery with reedkit i cannot bring myself to rewrite]

her interactions with the kits, once they are weaned, are either highly structured, or incidental moments she avoids and escapes from as fast as she can.

but -- feathertail is always there as a buffer. feathertail brings them out to mistyfoot as her kits, as a form of -- presentation, almost. or, mistyfoot and feathertail are talking, and one of the kits approaches momentarily.

because she can't do it anyway.

[insert tangent about mistyfoot being a good mother and how in this instance, that means not being around them]

and as the kits grow up, it is through feathertail that mistyfoot manages to build a relationship with them. the fact that they are feathertail's kits is how she does it. in part because -- it is a degree of separation that she is afforded. if things are too much -- she is not their mother. she can back off. but also because -- they are important to feathertail, and that makes it easier for mistyfoot to want to know them.

this is -- core to all five arcs at hand, here.

she sees hawkpaw seek out feathertail after a nightmare, and she sees a kit, who loves, who feathertail loves. she sees -- it makes it easier to forget his father, if he can simply be a child, sleeping with his mother to ward of nightmares.

hawkfrost is -- will always be the one she has the hardest time connecting to. this has little to do with his appearance (while he looks similar to tigerstar, he is not a clone -- he has more contrasting markings, a white chest, blue eyes, a narrower build, sleeker, glossier fur, and so on), and everything to do with the grief he causes feathertail as an apprentice. she worries over him, and mistyfoot doesn't know what to do.

frogheart is easier, or at least more straightforward. he bonds with mistyfoot when he's carrying feathertail down the mountain. there's -- two levels. first, he's doing a great service to the most important person to mistyfoot. second, this is a very hard time for feathertail, and mistyfoot wants to be with her for it. so -- they walk down together.

mothwing is -- she starts to be more and more responsible for feathertail's healthcare. and -- mistyfoot is. pretty much always with feathertail for that. even something as simple as marigold on a scratch, or getting a thorn pulled out -- mistyfoot is there.

it is an Anxiety Inducing Time. feathertail associates being treated with very bad things, and avoids going to the medicine den, so like -- mistyfoot has to be there to actually get her to go.

so while mothwing is learning to deal with -- a bit of a role reversal, in that she has to take care of feathertail. as a doctor, yes, but feathertail -- requires a lot of patience, cajoling, and creativity. and you know, that's hard. it is hard to see the cat who raised you like that. that's a big theme for mothwing.

but it means she starts to build a relationship with mistyfoot.

so -- why does it matter?

well, putting aside a long list of reasons that mistyfoot having reedkit then is so angst inducing (she's grieving for her first litter, she's not in a place to voluntary have another child, she's still coping with the trauma of a forced pregnancy, etc), if her focus is split between reedkit and feathertail, the weight of all of this is decreased.

not -- by half, or anything. love is not some finite resource. but mistyfoot no longer avoids the nursery, and she has many more early interactions with the kits. when feathertail leaves, she has another kit that means she can't fall apart in the same way. and -- that means that frogpaw, hawkpaw, and mothpaw's initial impression of her never changes.

when feathertail vanishes, they start to gain a deeper understanding of mistyfoot, which enables them to be able to start connecting to her.

other stuff

i'm doing this thing where i try to go to bed before 3am, so unfortunately, not right now.

oh wait i lied real quick

tawnypelt

i think this is because you haven't seen her pov yet, but a lot of asks about her tend to misunderstand her internal thought process. or at least -- they don't characterize her the way i intend to.

[mcheang]

Bustier salt Bustier's old teacher comes in and she's basically like Ms. Mendeleiev and Bustier hated her and couldn't stand her. Bustier's teacher critizes her teaching(Caline was the way she is even back then) until Bustier breaks down defeated

Odette Le Haut

I’ll admit I was inspired by the Ballerina/Leap movie for this rough draft. https://youtu.be/6JW_AD3rJqI

Ever since scarlet moth’s reappearance, the school board had been alert and decided to investigate the akuma class.

Considering that they decided to be thorough instead of hasty, by the time inspector Le Haut was sent to each class and lessons to monitor all the teachers, Chloe had already turned into Miracle Queen.

When the principal introduced the elderly woman, Caline had not recognised her at first.

She was a straight-backed lady with her silver hair in a neat bun, tailored navy suit, and a sharp mouth.

Inspector Le Haut eyed Caline and sighed, “Why am I not surprised you are teaching the akuma class, Caline.”

While Caline started at being addressed with such informality, her cheeks flushed at the nickname her class had been given, it humiliated Caline more than her class.

“Excuse me, but do I know you?”

“Come now Caline, you can’t have forgotten your old humanities teacher, now have you?”

“Professeur Costa!” Caline exclaimed, the memory coming back to her. Immediately she pasted on a saccharine smile and said rather stiffly, “How nice to see you. I didn’t know you had gotten married.”

“Yes, a nice lawyer I had met two years after I was promoted to work for the school board.” Oh rub it in; why don’t you?

Caline had hated this professeur. She was like Ms Mendeleiev but worse because she kept picking on Caline.

When Caline had been elected as class president, Professeur Le Haut has scolded her for not reporting the bullying that had gone on in her absence.

Professeur Le Haut supervised Caline’s fundraising and criticised her workload management because she is supposed to do more than her deputy.

Oh, and apparently Caline is terribly at solving bullying cases because she is quick to judge.

Needless to say, Caline had greeted her next humanities teacher- a dull, lazy man- with considerable enthusiasm.

Professeur Le Haut had saved the akuma class for last and she had followed them to all their classes for a few days.

To her credit, Professeur Le Haut didn’t interrupt the lessons and only interviewed all students during lunch.

She asked the students about the scarlet moth reappearance and looked skeptical at Lila’s disease and Marinette’s guilt. She asked Adrien how he felt about girls constantly invading his space. She asked Marinette if Caline has helped her prepare for Class presidency. Oh, and of course she interviews on everyone’s opinion of Chloe Bourgeois.

At the end of the week, the teachers all got their results. All passed, with the notable exception of Caline.

“But why?” Caline protested. “I’ve done nothing wrong. You can’t blame me for the akumatizations because some of them happened outside school! I don’t deserve to be suspended.”

Professur Le Haut’s face was impassive. “Caline, you lack responsibility and efficiency. You have little or no sense of decorum. You are without common sense, foresight, and fairness.”

“Oh come on,” Caline cried out in exasperation.

“On the good side, you have the positivity of a spring sun, but you let your students take advantage of that.”

“Where’s your evidence?” Caline demanded (hypocritically).

“Let’s see, shall we start with the obvious? You never corrected Chloe Bourgeois on her bullying behavior.”

“I was trying to set a better example by treating her with kindness! Her classmates need to learn to forgive her.”

“That is irrelevant. Her class can forgive her even if she is reprimanded. What matters is that for years, you have tried this lenient method of yours and it has not worked. For years, Chloe has taken advantage of said leniency to bully her classmates. You have only encouraged her to continue her bad attitude, and look what happened to her!”

“I,” Caline stammered, not sure what to say. It’s true, Chloe’s self-correction had been a long shot, but Caline had not wanted to give up.

“Speaking of bullying, we need to discuss a Miss Rossi.”

Caline blinked. “But we’ve cleared Marinette of the blame. Lila had a disease-“

“I am aware of that. I have made a thorough, in-depth investigation into Miss Dupain-Chang’s expulsion, and rest assured Caline, you are not to blame for this alone.”

Why was Caline not comforted by that?

“Using school security camera footage, I have found evidence of Miss Rossi stealing your test answers, planting the necklace in Marinette’s unlocked locker, and walking down the stairs before crying out that she was pushed.”

Caline was dumbstruck. “But that can’t be true!”

“Is it more likely that Marinette committed those crimes? We will get to her later, but right now we are seeing your lack of common sense Caline. You knew the test answers were stolen after it was over, so how could Marinette have cheated?”

Looking back, Caline now saw that she had reacted blindly and foolishly. But everyone makes mistakes, right?

“Regarding Miss Rossi’s lying disease and her other disabilities, I have called her mother and she told me her daughter was perfectly healthy.”

Ms Bustier sat back, her face as pale as chalk.

“Oh, and by the way, for some reason, Mrs Rossi was confused as to something about an Achu trip. Apparently she was told that the school was shut down for months because the principal had been akumatized.”

Caline swallowed.

“Is there any defense you would like to make regarding your management of Lila’s doctor notes, the miraculous curing of them, and her overseas trip to help a prince in a meeting meant solely for dignitaries?”

“No. No, I don’t.” It came out shakily. Caline was losing her composure.

“Oh, one more thing I have to add. From what I can see. I believe Lila Rossi is sexually harassing Adrien Agreste.”

“What?!”

“Yes, it means that when Lila keeps invading his personal space and he looks uncomfortable, Adrien is being sexually harassed.”

“I know what it means!”

“Do you? Then why have you not corrected Lila on her behavior? She behaves so in front of you plenty of times as far as I can see.”

Caline stayed silent.

“Now to Miss Dupain-Cheng. From what I have learned, you have let her handle the responsibilities of fundraisers and field trips with only her deputy to help her. Is that correct?”

Caline nodded, unsure where this is going.

”You let a student handle such massive responsibilities without even checking to make sure she got everything right? Or without helping to take some of the load off her. Even I never gave you that much responsibility.” I wasn’t stupid, was what she implied at the end.

“And when Chloe was in trouble, you decided to lecture Marinette in private. When she was accused, you accused her in front of the whole class. Why was that?”

“I...I wanted to advise her to learn forgiveness. Those are two different things!”

“Then why didn’t you want to teach the whole class to forgive?”

Caline’s defense faltered.

“I’ve seen how you have acted when the class has been akumatized. Do you remember Stoneheart.”

“Of course,” Caline smoothed out some strands of her hair, tucking them back. “Ivan had been shy about confessing his feelings to Mylene.”

“Yes, he had been bullied by Kim and when Ivan reacted, instead of investigating, you sent Ivan away, right into the akuma.”

At that Caline finally broke down and started sobbing into her hands.

Professur Le Haut looked at her former student with something like sympathy.

“Caline, I do not say these things to be cruel. I am being honest but you have always stuck to your own world view. Can you tell me now that you have acted with foresight and efficiency regarding Chloe?”

Caline sniffed and shook her head.

“Can you tell me that you have behaved responsibly and fairly towards Marinette?”

Now it was a sob that was followed by a headshake.

“Do you believe you have the common sense and decorum needed should Lila accuse Marinette about something else?”

“No! I don’t, ok? You’ve made your point!” Caline yelled, finally breaking down. “I’m a horrible teacher and it’s no wonder my class is the akuma class. Are you happy now?”

There was definitely pity now in the inspector’s gaze. “Am I happy that you failed? No. Am I happy that you are miserable? No. Am I happy that you have finally seen your errors and can learn from them? Yes.”

The inspector pushed forward a mug of warm tea to the sobbing teacher. “Drink. It’ll help to calm you down. We don’t want another Zombizou incident now.”

Caline obeyed. Her face was a mess.

At the end of the inspection, it was let known that the principal was fired (he went on to become a full-time staff at a community service center and kept wearing his owl costume there.) Caline was suspended but she was taking this chance to start over. Meanwhile their replacements got down to work. It was time for some changes to be made. Especially regarding Miss Lila Rossi.

[empyreal-insights]

Dueling Destinies

i. 

In one of my Facebook groups, someone posed a question about "destiny" in the Yoruba context. The more I witness my life, the more I understand that this is another layer new world Africans may have to shapeshift around, or at least redefine.

In Yoruba cosmology, the English word "destiny" is a sort of catch-all to describe the reason(s) you decided to manifest as a human being on earth, and what you need to function effectively during your time here. 

As in most indigenous cultures, children with profound spiritual gifts are often recognized and trained - if not initiated - early. They may stray in adolescence and early adulthood, but many return to their spiritual roots because of this foundation.

So when Yoruba folks say, "Ifa initiation will give you your full destiny," I think it’s true for some. And, I wonder if it’s a best case scenario rooted in a social and cultural framework that supported such a path from the beginning.

ii. 

I never felt a Call on my life, but born in a different time and place, it likely would’ve been seen for me. 

The circumstances of my birth are a diviner’s dream: born after several miscarriages to an almost-30 year old mother into a family marked by premature death and clear connections to the unseen realm. I was intellectually precocious, emotionally sensitive, with a tuft of gray hair that never changed color. 

I had - as my grandmother and others said - been here before.

My mother says everyone knew I was "special," but the folks who may have been astute enough to explain further were gone before I could walk.  

Without that head start, I followed a path common to many on this side of the water: discovered the traditions in my 20s and initiated in my 30s, with plenty to heal by the time I stepped on the mat.* 

iii. 

When I initiated to Osun, I was at a low point. I was still grieving my aunt's passing, heartbroken over the loss of some important relationships, and feeling like my life was on hold. I broke down several times. 

Osun lifted my pain like you shake off blankets in the morning. Gently, with finality, She crumbled the walls around my heart and declared Herself the only armor I needed. I felt a lightness I’d assumed was gone forever. My entire life, there's been a sense of not belonging, and being much older than my chronological age. I knew too much, felt too much, and didn’t have words to describe any of it. Eventually I did enough self work to be all right most of the time, but my bad days could get very, very dark.

My "specialness" wasn't discouraged, but it wasn't honed, either; I struggled with feeling unseen and unheard. Because I wasn't the neediest, squeakiest wheel, and had no inclinations towards rebellion or defiance, my okayness was taken for granted. In many ways, I was fine, but I also had questions it took years to learn how to ask.  

Connecting with Egbe softened those blows. I saw and understood myself in ways I never thought I would. Messages from years of readings and talks with mentors and elders finally synthesized. 

My earthly family is a blessing, but I am a Spirit Child; I needed the support of my people in Orun to be whole here. 

iv.

Years after doing what I was "supposed" to do, destiny became a burden to slough off.  

I've struggled with that because I was told and taught that I was supposed to be more. I was raised to see things through, to seek stability and solid ground. The worst things I could appear to be were flighty, flaky, or foolish - no one had time for that, and the world around me wouldn’t forgive me for it.

And yet, I am not here to be something as specific as a doctor, "healer,” or someone's mother - although I could probably play with each of those identities and experiences if I chose.  

The essence of my spirit is water and aether, meant to pivot flawlessly, dream, shapeshift, create, and flow. These are also the parts of me that have been damaged by learning to live life on Earth.

It’s become crucial for me to enjoy and embrace life as it comes - to learn how to be here now - because by my very nature, I am not overly attached to life. 

I was called here and - for reasons still unknown to my conscious mind - decided to be the one that stayed. 

That choice created a situation whereby I am compelled to make peace with my soul’s distinct need for reconciliation and healing. How that “looks” to anyone is a moot point. 

For now, that reconciliation is the only “destiny” I feel fully equipped to focus on and fulfill with no burden, no pressure, and no worry.

And that is enough. 

--

* There’s a sliver of the Black american community that embraced continental and diasporan versions of African spirituality in the 70s, 80s, and even a bit earlier. But for the most part, my generation is the first to juggle ancestral traditions, western living, and the singularity of African-in-america identity. Even if we're not rejected outright by our families, few understand what the hell we're doing.

.

the rough draft (twitter thread)

[sonicgetsrawed]

Sick

This was requested by TangledVarian on Ao3! Basically Var gets sick, overworks himself, and passes out in Raps arms. This is also for fainting for bad things happen bingo!!! Enjoy!!!!!

Varian coughed into the crook of his arm, followed closely by a sneeze. He groaned, rubbing his temples trying to quell the headache that pounded in his skull. His cheeks felt like they were on fire causing him to constantly fan himself despite feeling rather cold. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders. His pencil shook in his hands, making progress on his latest invention near impossible. He threw it down in frustration, laying his head on the table. He breathed a sigh of relief, the cool surface doing wonders for his burning cheeks. Ruddiger chittered beside him, stroking his hair in concern.

“I can’t take a break, buddy. There’s still so much to do and I’m on the verge of a breakthrough, I just know it.” Varian protested. It was almost convincing until another cough wracked his small frame. Ruddiger frowned, chittering again. Varian was about to respond when the door swung open.

“I brought lunch!” Rapunzel sing-songed, holding a plate in one hand, a smile on her face. A smile which quickly fell when she noticed his condition. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah! Never better!” Varian assured, waving off her concern and taking the plate despite the way his stomach turned at the sight of the food.

“You sure? You’re shaking.” Rapunzel asked, reaching a hand out to feel his forehead.

Varian easily dodged her. “Of course. Th-there’s just a draft.”

Rapunzel looked throughly unconvinced, exchanging a look with Ruddiger. She crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re sweating.”

Varian laughed. “Would you look at that! The blanket did it’s job!” He exclaimed dropping the blanket on the floor, repressing another cough. He placed a hand on Rapunzel’s back and pushed her towards the door. “As you can see all is well, and as much as I enjoy your company I have a lot to do. Thanks for lunch.”

Rapunzel turned suddenly. “Show me what you’re working on?” She said, moving back to his workbench. Varian stumbled at the loss of contact, the sudden turn making his vision swim. He blinked a few times, which usually helped, but this time it didn’t. He took an unsteady step forward, trying to look normal despite the fact that there were now five Rapunzels in front of him.

“Y-yeah, sure thing.” He responded, his hand missing the desk completely and sending the alchemist tumbling towards the ground. He was out before he hit the ground.

***************

“Varian!” Rapunzel called as she watched her friend fall forward. She was thankful for her fast reflexes, catching him before he hit anything and setting him down on the ground. She could feel the unnatural heat radiating off of him from the close proximity. “Ruddiger, can you go get the doctor and Eugene?” The raccoon gave a nod of agreement before scampering off, leaving Rapunzel alone with her friend. She stroked his hair, waiting impatiently for Ruddiger to return.

“I’m-I’m sorry.” Varian whimpered, eyebrows scrunching up.

“Varian? It’s okay. Ruddiger went to get help.” Rapunzel comforted, frowning slightly when she realized he was still asleep. She resumed stroking his hair, hoping to soothe whatever nightmare he was having.

“I-I didn’t mean to. I did-didn’t want anyone to g-get hurt. It’s-its all m-my fault.” Varian’s fingers twitched as if he was reaching for something in his dream. Rapunzel froze, tears welling in her eyes upon realizing what he was talking about. She supposed it made sense for him to have nightmares about the things he had done, but it hurt her over how broken he sounded.

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re safe, everyone’s safe.” Rapunzel soothed, not getting to continue stroking his hair as Eugene and the doctor arrived.

“Sunshine, what happened?” Eugene asked, scooping the boy up and following the doctor to the medical wing.

“I’m not sure. He was shaky and sweaty and then he just passed out.” Rapunzel explained, waiting for him to place Varian on one of the beds before continuing. “Eugene, he was having a nightmare. I-I think he still feels bad about what he did.”

“I can imagine so. I mean I was a thief and I still have nightmares about my past from time to time. What he did was on a whole other level. I can’t imagine it would be as simple as forgive and forget.” Eugene responded, wrapping an arm around her.

“You do?” She asked. He just nodded in response. “I just want to help.”

“I know you do, Sunshine, but sometimes the only thing you can do is be there for someone.” Eugene answered, placing a kiss on top of her head.

“Then we’ll be here the best we can!” Rapunzel pumped a fist in determination, pulling up a chair to Varian’s bedside and watching him intently. Eugene shook his head, a sincere smile on his face and followed her example.

***************

Varian’s eyes opened slowly, the light shining in them irritating his headache. He groaned, pushing himself into a sitting position and placing his head in his hands. “What happened?” He asked to no one in particular.

“You fainted.” Rapunzel answered, startling the boy. “But don’t worry, the doctor said it’s just a flu. You’ll be free to go once your fever lowers.”

“That doesn’t mean return to the lab, however.” Eugene chimed in, sitting on the edge of the bed. “You’re on bed rest for at least a week, until this is fully out of your system.”

“Great.” Varian groaned again, scooping Ruddiger into his arms and falling back against his pillows.

“It is going to be great!” Rapunzel ensured, pulling a box up from the ground. “We’ve got puzzles, paint, if you’re feeling really crazy we have knitting!”

“Let’s start with something a little more mellow, huh, Sunshine?” Eugene interrupted, pulling a book out from behind his back. “How about a nice reading from ‘The Tales of Flynnigan Rider’?”

“That sounds amazing.” Varian chuckled, a genuine smile on his face. “Thanks guys.”

Rapunzel smiled to herself as she watched Eugene read from the book, imitating voices and re-enacting scenes long after Varian fell back asleep.

[notfromanotherworld]

Note: This letter is an excerpt from a collection of Gandhi’s letters which have been compiled into a book titled “Mahatma Gandhi’s Letters on Brahmacharya, Sexuality and Love” by Girja Kumar (Vitasta Publishing, 2011). More detailed citations and references on the chapter on Gandhi in Rita Banerji’s book “Sex and Power: Defining History, Shaping Societies,” [pages 265-281, Penguin Books, 2009].

But Gandhi is long dead. So why should the naked girls in Gandhi’s bed matter today?

Well, because the issue goes way beyond Gandhi. What really matters now, and it matters deeply, is how we respond to what Gandhi did.

Today we like to believe that we are far more progressive in terms of recognising and condemning the abuse of power by men for sexual exploitation and abuse. And yet, I repeatedly find every time I bring this up most people’s responses are defensive and regressive!

This 1947 storm in the Gandhi camp was set off by R. P. Parasuram, a young man from Kerala, who for two years had served as Gandhi’s personal secretary and typist and watched his personal affairs from close by. Like many students in India at that time, Parasuram too, had idolised Gandhi and after his studies, had travelled to Gandhi’s ashram to live and work with him, and help with India’s freedom movement.

But two years after working with Gandhi, Parasuram quit the ashram and his job. Before he left, he wrote a 16-page long letter explaining his distress at what he had witnessed in Gandhi’s behaviour with girls and women in the ashram — which included other things besides his ‘experiments‘ in bed. He said that as much as he had worshipped Gandhi, his conscience did not allow him to stay silent any longer. And that in order for him to continue, Gandhi had to concede to five of his demands (all of which dealt with Gandhi’s physical interactions with girls at the ashram) which he listed in the letter. [See the letter below.]

On January 2, 1947, Gandhi responded to Parasuram’s letter with, “I cannot concede your demands. Since such is my opinion and there is a conflict of ideals, you are at liberty to leave me today.”

But under this onslaught, Gandhi eventually conceded defeat, even if not willingly. He said he felt like a “broken reed.” His ego and narcissism had been broken by people around him who fortunately understood and did better than we do today.

This is the question that I’d like to ask everyone reading this: Why is it that it’s hard to say that Gandhi, the hero of India’s freedom movement had also used his power and position to sexually exploit/abuse girls and women who came under the mantle of his leadership?

- “Gandhi Used His Position To Sexually Exploit Young Women. The Way WE React To This Matters Even Today” by Rita Banerji

Below is an extract from R. P. Parasuram’s 16-page letter to Gandhi just before he quit. He called it his letter of “indictment.” _____________________________________________________________________________________

1 January, 1947 Srirampur

Revered Bapu,

I write these lines in sorrow and pain. You know how shy and unforward I have been these two years. You must imagine to what depths I must have been agitated then to overcome my shyness and become bold and that too with a man who is considered by many to be the greatest man living.

You must also ponder over the fact as to what it is that has made me bold and say things so boldly. It is because I feel I am so clearly in the right and you so clearly in the wrong. It is the cause that gives me the courage.

It is not that I did not know these before. I knew and kept quiet. I thought, “Why should I bring these to him?” There are men like Kanu [Gandhi], Kishorilal bhai [Mashruwala], etc., experienced men and men knowing you fully.  And then I had not the courage. I have come over my shyness with you.

When [at] first I came to the ashram, I came with high respect for the ashram and its inmates and its way of life. All that was knocked off in 24 hours. After coming here I must confess to having lost a portion of the respect I had for you. You are the Father of our Nation. You have taken us so far along the path of freedom and independence. You must see the hand of God in the fact that I have overcome my shyness.

I object to your sleeping in the same bed with members of the opposite sex. In February 1945 or so, I was given the draft of a statement to type. I was shocked by the contents…I must tell you that even before I know of this. One day Amin-bhai came and told me that he was shocked to see Manu [Manu Gandhi — Gandhi’s own grand niece] getting into your bed.

In those days I was more shy than I am now. My only friend in the ashram was Amin. Even then I came to know of the discussions about this affair because the ashram people are so careless and can’t keep their mouth shut. Everybody objected to your doing this.

Apart from the question of any affect on you, what about the effect on girls?

There is something of other wrong with them [the women who sleep naked with Gandhi]. [The] Punjabi girl who lived opposite my room in Matunga. She used to weep unrestrainedly and that not caring whether others saw her or not. She laughed also unrestrainedly. And then here is Dr. Sushila-behn [the 24-year-old in-house physician at the ashram who Gandhi also used for his ‘experiments’]. How many are the days when she has not wept? She is a doctor and yet she is always a patient, always is ill. Who has heard of a doctor who cries out at night?

Even then the whole thing is considered wrong by the world. I do not like it. Nirmal babu [Bose] does not. Sucheta-behn [Kriplani] did not like it and said, “However great he may be, he cannot do such things. What is this?” You must admit that there is something in our objection. You cannot waive it aside.

As for blood relations [this is in reference to Manu Gandhi]. The world is sceptic even there. There have been cases of immorality between father and daughter, brother and sister.

I object to your having massage done by girls. When I was studying in college, I read a report saying you were being massaged by Dr. Sushila-behn. And now I find you do get yourself massaged by girls.

Those people who know that you are naked during massage time say that you could at least put a cover over it [his genitals].

The same objection I hold against girls coming to the bathroom when you go there. Ramachandran saw you like that and said you had fallen a little from his estimation. However great you may be, you cannot do these things.

Your placing your hands on shoulders of girls. You had written once that you gave up this practice because others intimated you with evil intention. I have not come across any other writing saying you could resume it. So it was strange to me why you resumed it. During the two years I have been with you, about 50 letters or so objecting to this practice from admirers and calumniators came. None of them got any reply.

Your being seen naked [during his bath and massage] jars on the mind of strangers, admirers though they might be. Ramachandran did not like it. He said it was the limit.

Ever since the 17th December [1946], when in the small hours of the morning you made those dreadful sounds, dreadful because it came from you man of such eminence, even otherwise unbecoming for any wise or old man, my head has not been at peace. I have heard of another such instance from Mr. Ramachandran of the API [Associated Press of India] when you told Sushila-behn to leave you. I have seen such another instance at Delhi. But this event shook me to my depths. I said to myself that God and the nation would not forgive me if I kept quiet.

You commit Himalyan blunders. But you refuse to see these things and when told, you are irritated. I say you are conceited and constitute yourself to be the repository of all the wisdom in the world.

And now to my charges. Unless [my demands] are fulfilled, I [will] depart. I beg to differ and go away. Your actions to which I object:

1. Your sleeping with any member of the opposite sex. 2. Being massaged by any member of the opposite sex. 3. Allowing yourself to be seen naked by any member of the opposite sex. 4. Allowing yourself to be seen naked by strangers and even by people who are of your party who are not so intimate. 5. Placing your hands on the shoulders of girls when walking.

- “Gandhi Used His Position To Sexually Exploit Young Women. The Way WE React To This Matters Even Today” by Rita Banerji

[bereft-of-frogs]

2020 Fic Year in Review

I was tagged by @aurorawest ! I’d been planning on doing something similar eventually and I like the directed questions here, so it worked out well.

Total number of completed stories: 27

Total word count: (I’m terrible about keeping track of word counts so this is total posted word count, thank you ao3 statistics) 189,970

Fandoms written in: MCU, the very tiny fandom of the Netflix series Into the Night, and I got one very, very short Les Misérables fic done

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d expected? I guess about what I expected? Maybe a bit more, actually, I only ended up being about 40k short of my word count from last year, I didn’t think I’d actually get anywhere close. So that’s good!

What’s your own favorite story of the year? For the tiny airplane fandom, I really liked ‘we are the sleepers, we bite our tongues’. And I’m just going to keep saying ‘where is your sting’ for the MCU lol.

Even though also, I mean, ‘alone amidst the ruins’ is definitely the one I’m most proud of. I worked so hard on it. I just don’t revisit it as much because I spent so much time working on it, whereas I do occasionally reread ‘where is your sting’. XD

Did you take any writing risks this year? Hm. Striking out in a new, very different fandom was a bit of a risk. One that resulted in multiple nights looking up things like ‘how to fly a plane’. :) And also it was really the first time I started writing for a fandom that I had 0 other input other than canon. Before I start writing for a new fandom, I’ve usually read a whole lot of fic and gotten a sense of the audience and what else is out there. But...there was nothing else out there when I started writing. This was all me and it was a little intimidating, especially with some of the technical stuff.

Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the new year? Several! 2021 New Year’s Writing Resolutions:

- Not have such a damned complex about writing. Look. I had a whole time this year, I think we all did, and I just want myself to chill tf out about this one thing. Just chill out a little bit, self. Chill.

- Write about more space ghosts. And by that I mean more episodic space adventure plus magic and/or ghosts (bonus points for ghosts) style fics. Sort of along the lines of some of my older whumptober prompts (like ‘1. stabbed’ ‘5. poisoned’ and ‘7. kidnapped’ from ‘pain and other human sensations’ or ‘hurts like ghosts’). I didn’t really do any this year, had a lot more short, angsty fics. The closest I think I got was the whumptober prompt ‘enemy to caretaker’ or maybe ‘withdrawal’. But I have some ideas and even though those fics are a lot of work because of worldbuilding stuff, I want to do that work because they’re really my favorite type of fics.

- Make progress on series. I’d really like to get my next fic in ‘the nine in the tree’ finished before the next Doctor Strange movie is released, and make some progress on the third fic in ‘the dead reign there alone’ considering it’s been like...a long time and I think if I make any progress on it, I’ll feel better.

- Write more second drafts. Oof. Like, this is the most obvious advice that I should have absorbed a lot time ago, but like...writing a second draft makes the writing better. I get that now. I probably won’t do full second drafts for everything, but yeah. More focus on editing/rewriting in the new year.

Most popular story of the year? ‘like a tear on a cheek’ got the most kudos, by quite a bit. I’m happy for it, it was really sappy and indulgent, and kind of a mouthpiece for my own thoughts about forgiveness and redemption. I think that probably struck a chord XD

Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion: I logically know why this is the case, but tbh my two more extreme AUs I think were slightly underappreciated, if I do say so myself. I did my first actual all-human AU with ‘panic room’ in January, and then my ‘medieval-ish’ fantasy AU ‘a keen scourge through the wintry air’. Like, I get why these didn’t get as much attention as others I wrote this year, I still think they’re a little underappreciated. XD

Most fun story to write: Obviously, I found ‘where is your sting’ to be the most fun. ghosts in space!. It was pure Sakaar Trash Party with ghosts and overwrought dialogue, I had a lot of fun.

Most unintentionally telling story: in a chapter of ‘alone amidst the ruins’, I included a line about the WHO advising on the wearing of masks.

a line that I swear to God, I wrote last year. got to it during the rewrite and had to go lie down for a bit.

Biggest disappointment: Even if I knew I probably wasn’t going to get all the way through the whumptober prompts this year (2018 was a - somewhat scary in hindsight - lightning strike of dedication and inspiration. I don’t know how I did Fall 2018 and I’m not sure it will ever happen again), but I would have liked to finish the ones I had started. Coming up on the end of the year and I’ve left one multichapter fic hanging, and still haven’t finished the ‘possession’ one which should be easy to finish.

This is also more a regret than a disappointment but I do sort of now regret my choice to publish all the whumptober prompts separately. Urgh, I think I would just be happier if they were organized into collections by fandom, they just bury everything else and some of them are so short and I really, really wish I had stuck with my method of organizing them in one document. Errrrr, regret. Like there are definitely benefits to doing it this way, but...still. Wish I had done it the other way.

Biggest surprise: Honestly, getting any comments and kudos from the tiny airplane fandom was an absolutely delightful surprise. Thank you, anyone who kudosed any of those works <3

- - -

So, 2020. What the fuck was that, am I right? It honestly feels like another world already. Like I’ll remember doing something and be like...hm not sure that actually happened to me, sort of feels like that happened to someone else and I just watched. I know I’m supposed to tag people, but also #SocialAnxiety (even in fandom). but please please please if you are a fic writer and want to take a moment to reflect on your writing experience this year, consider this an open tag!!!

[whumper-boi]

So good news, I finally finished with writing out the first prompt of the whump advant calender

OH MY FUCKING GOD I FORGOT TO ACTUALLY TAKE IT OUT OF DRAFTS AND POST IT SO ITS A DAY LATE LMAOO SORRY GUYS

(Note that they are ocs to my book I’m writing so don’t worry about spoiling or anything)

@whump-advent-calendar thank you, and this is for the first prompts

Y’all this was much longer then I thought it would be but oh well. Also, I was really out of it when I started this so forgive me cause it isn’t my best work.

Also sorry about the awkward spacing, was no one going to tell me there was a limit to the amount of spaces you could do?

**Blue- Martin’s texts

TW for mentions of non-con, mentions of child abuse, panic attacks, self deprecating thoughts, nearly freezing to death, hypothermia, paranoia, cursing, anxiety, mild(?) dissociation (like it’s written that it happened but he doesn’t remember it (obviously)), ptsd

This hadn’t happened since the thunderstorm incident. However, unlike that where he had been purposely locked outside in the middle of a fucking thunderstorm, he had come home early from a sleepover, and no one else was home.

Martin shivered, pulling his skully over the tips of his ears. After he realized that he lost his house key somewhere, he tried to call his father, but to no avail, as he was most likely still on a plane.

Majesty, his service dog who accompanied him on the walk home, nudged him gently on the leg. He sensed his distress, circling around him before standing at his side again.

Backtracking a little, Martin had gone over to one of his best friend Sadie’s house, with intentions to spend the night, but her having a surprise doctors appointment had made him decide to walk home with Majesty, (even in the blistering cold, he didn’t want to bother his friend’s parents) and lose his key somewhere in the process.

This wouldn’t be a problem if the spare was still there, but it wasn’t? He wondered if someone else brought it in and forgot to put it back.

His father, Oliver, and his father’s best friend, Nick, were both on a business trip and wouldn’t be back until the day after tomorrow.

He didn’t know what to call Nick, as he saw the man like another parent, but he couldn’t handle the idea of putting his trust into another adult only to be majorly fucked over again. He had been around since before Martin was born, this was true, but Molly, his mother, had also been around since he was born, and she chose his rapist over him.

So yeah, he was a little scared of letting his guard down, even if he knew Nick would never hurt him. Oliver had even made sure of this

(The two men had been telling stories about before Martin and Tristan were younger, and even before they were born.

“If we’re really reminiscing on your births, I’ll never forget when Oliver held you for the first time Mars. Mostly because your father had threatened to terminate our business partnership and friendship, and I quote, ‘cut your prick off and make you eat it’ if I ever put a hand on you.”

“I still stand by it mate,” Oliver said, cuffing Nick on the shoulder.)

And his father wasn’t really one to go back on promises, especially with Martin.

The only other person who had access to the house would be Tristan, Nick’s son and someone who was like a brother to him, but, of course, he wasn’t home, and the bitch wouldn’t answer his phone. That wasn’t a surprise though, he was probably at a house party getting slammed.

Majesty let out a small huff, nudging him in the leg again, telling him that he was going out of it again. He pet him, checking his pockets one more time before giving up.

Great, fucking brilliant. He plopped down on the stone steps leading to the front door, which were freezing, and pulled out his phone, checking for messages. None.

A gust of wind blew, making him put his phone away and curl up to try and get some feeling back into his numbing fingers and toes. It really had to be this cold on the day he decided to not wear his leather jacket.

The only thing he had to protect him from the elements was the MCR T-shirt over a black longsleeve, cargo pants that had like, seven pockets on them, Doc Marten (ha), the skully, of couse, and his headphones. Also, a ton of metal jewlrey, basically he looked like the first picture you would find if you googled “Goth looks”.

Majesty sat next to him, and he leaned into the dog, wrapping his arms around him and squeezing.

Seeing as he couldn’t do anything other than wait, he tried to get his mind off of it, by thinking about the boarding school he would be going back to in a few weeks.

The boarding school in question, was an academy for advanced people with different skills and abilities, and it wasn’t something that was easy to get into. He had gotten a scholarship for the academic part of the school, which was apparently, a very hard thing to do. They only chose the smartest of the smart, who were all adults, except for him of course.

Maybe because he had an IQ of 216, higher than everyone at the school. That seemed to raise a lot of discourse with some people who couldn’t handle the fact that a 16 year old was smarter than them.

Interestingly enough, Martin couldn’t bring himself to actually give a fuck when it came down to it, because he had the scholarship, not them.

The only person who was even close to his age was a boy named Matthew, from America. Detroit, more specifically. The two had been roommates, Matthew was in because apparently, he was a fucking amazing dancer that was scholarship worthy.

Martin hadn’t seen it, but if he got into that school it was probably mind blowing, and he would never question his ability.

Matthew had been respectful, and pretty, and he had the audacity to make Martin fall for his southern accent and obnoxiously kind words that he didn’t feel like he deserved.

He even asked him at one point.

“Well you’re a genius M, so it’s going to be lightwork for you,” Matthew said, after Martin had joked about wanting to crack the Zodiac ciphers.

“Nah, I’ll just stick to arguing with teachers and wasting away decoding video games.”

The other boy hummed. “Well, whatever you choose to do, you’re going to do good.” He put his fingers in a ‘ok’ pose, and gave a playful smirk that made him look like a meme, and then he looked up at Martin.

He couldn’t exactly tell what emotion was being portrayed on his own face at the moment, but it made Matthew’s smile drop, and he looked at him with nothing but concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, there something on my face?” he half joked, feeling it fall flat as soon as it came out of his mouth. He tried to neutralize his expression, but this only made things look worse.”

“Martin…” he hesitated. “Was it something I said?”

Yes, yes it was. He opened his mouth, then closed it, growing warm and horrifyingly, feeling tears start to well up. He had, by no means been insulted with what he said. The support and friendliness was what got to him.

The whole thing was, he had support from other people, but this felt… different. Martin felt like the people around him felt obligated to do it. Even so, he had only known Matthew for such a short time, but the american he only proved that he cared.

Maybe this was the insecurity in his brain talking, or maybe the things Seth said and did to him were finally starting to take a toll on him. He just had to know why he cared so much. Well, when in Rome right?

“Why are you so nice to me?” He asked, crossing his arms, a nervous tic that he had developed.

Matthew didn’t even look like he registered the question. “I’m...not?” What? If that wasn’t being nice then what was it?

As if the other boy could hear his question, he added: “I’m just treating you with basic decency? Like, anyone with an ounce of empathy should do.” Martin stared at him.

But holding the door? Not once telling him to shut up at his long rants? Waiting for him at the top of the stairs when he made it up first? His friends did the same, and so did his family, but they had known each other for a while, and…but Seth did it, only when he was in a good mood, only when he was feeling nice, and he just naturally assumed this was what everyone was doing. Conditionally. They were doing it because they cared?

This was hurting his head. Multiple thoughts littered his head and he couldn’t sort them out fast enough to process a coherent sentence. His logical side just straight up vanished.

Matthew walked up to him, cautiously sticking his arm out and gently grabbing Martin’s shoulder.

His head suddenly blanked, whatever he had been thinking about just stopped at the contact. “Well,” Martin laughed awkwardly, “I guess you learn something new everyday.”

The other boy gave a smile, and he thought he could spare them both the mental breakdown he would inevitably have, then the arse had to say: “You’re deserving of respect darlin’, unconditionally.”

And wonderfully, he started to cry. The more correct term would be more like, loudly sobbing, but save himself a little bit of dignity. Matthew had once again proved how amazing he was, holding him.

A loud noise sounded from somewhere, knocking him out of the memory. He felt a smile on his face though, thinking about the American. His boyfriend, seeing as two hours after he shared his entire life story, they made out on their dorm floor.

He stopped smiling when he felt his lips crack in the cold weather. Licking them didn’t help, they dried back up seconds later.

Martin stood up, shivering at the lack of movement. He tried the door again, and when that didn’t work, he called Majesty and walked to the backside of the house. It was locked. Well, it was good that they were responsible with locking doors.

He then tried the windows, but remembered that he closed them because of his hate of the cold, and locked them because of his paranoia. He thought about breaking a window, but came to the conclusion that a locksmith was most likely better.

He picked up his phone, then stopped, thinking about it. If someone he didn’t know could pick their way into the house, what’s stopping someone with a grudge doing the exact same thing?

They had cameras and an alarm system, but a short circuit somewhere around the house could disable them, or if a computer tech tapped into them…

Martin felt a weight in his chest. If a locksmith was successfully able to get the door open, then anyone could be able to get the door open, and anyone included Seth and his friends. If they ever decided they wanted to get back at him, they could get in easily.

He didn’t realize that he dropped his phone, and barely noticed when he stepped on it, looking around. Martin scanned the streets, starting to worry that Seth would have this idea, and show up.

He suddenly couldn’t breathe, now frantically looking for his stepfather’s car. He would kill Martin if he saw him, he’d hurt him and kill him.

He was tied to that bed, hands touching all over him. He didn’t want it, he begged for it to be over.

The hands were on him again. Martin swore he could feel them dragging against his skin, and he physically recoiled, tripping and falling into the grass.

He didn’t want to be back there, not again.

“Please, stop!”

“No!” He screamed at nothing, covering his head with his arms. Martin felt a sob build up, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Seth was going to find him, and even if Martin went back into the house, he’d find a way in, or break the door. He couldn't stop him, and no one would know what happened.

Martin felt something on his face, warm and wet in contrast to the cold. Then he felt something push against his chest, something that was warm. He instinctively reached out, wrapping his arms around whatever it was, shivering and still struggling to breathe.

He needed to look at the street again, see if he was coming, but the same wet feeling was on his face again.

After a couple minutes, he opened his eyes, the tears freezing against his face. He realized that it was Majesty who he was holding in his arms, and he realized that he was licking Martin’s face, just doing his job.

He pulled the Doberman closer, taking a few seconds before sitting up. Majesty instantly got up after he did, nudging his arm gently, waiting for Martin to move off the frozen grass. They both made it back to the door eventually, Martin working on clearing his mind by asking himself if it was the panic attack or the cold that was making him super tired.

He looked for his phone, stressing out until Majesty quickly trotted over and dropped it at his feet. He ignored the little bits of drool, seeing three texts and a missed call from Tristan.

Trishyfishy👀👄👀

December 14, 7:56 PM

Yo, what the fuck do you want

Jkjk, everything alright

Call me Mars.

Martin went to the contact and called, realizing he could hardly feel his hands. “Hello?” His voice trembled slightly, either from the crying or the cold, he wasn’t sure.

“Alright Martin?”

He chuckled hollowly. “Ah, I got locked out of the house.”

“Are you alright? You sound like you’re crying.”

“I got locked out of the fucking house Tristan. It’s like, -2 degrees out here.” There was a beat of silence.

“I’m on the way back, so uh, just… hang in there?” He rolled his eyes, petting Majesty. “I’m like, fifteen minutes away.”

He heard Tristan laugh at something he didn’t hear through the phone. “Where did you even go?”

“To a party, (figures) but some 9th year threw up in the punch bowl and two kids got in a fight over some stupid bet. It got boing. What about you? I thought you were with Sadie.”

“I was, but she had an appointment and I didn’t want to go so I just walked home instead, she lives like, half an hour away, so I didn’t, like, you know.” Majesty put his head on his lap, letting Martin stim by petting, effectively keeping him calm and awake.

Tristan hummed over the phone, but didn’t say anything. His phone buzzed in his hand, and he looked down, seeing that Matthew was texting him.

“I’ll call you back Trish.” He waited for a response, then hung up.

American.

December 14, 8:24 PM

I just saw a this lady with a really big yellow

snake around her neck and it made me think

of you

Which part?

The snake or the lady?

Both

Anyway

What are you doing?

Sitting on my front doorstep.

Why

Tat sounds boring

That**

lost my key.

I believe I left it at Sadie’s, but I can’t remember.

Oh f

So you can’t get in?

How long have you been out there

No one else will let you in?

Actually just hold on

Martin looked at his phone confusedly for a moment, before he was suddenly receiving a call from the other.

“Ok, go on,” Matthew said from the other side when he pushed the accept button.

“Er… I lost my key, and no one else is home.” His teeth chattered as he spoke.

“That sucks man, I’m sorry. My mom says hi by the way, and asked if you tried the window or a back door.”

He nodded, then realized that Matthew coudn’t see him. “Oh, yeah uh, the back door was locked, and the windows, I locked them before I left. Preventable measure you know?” He said, laughing a shrill, awkward laugh.

“Right. Don’t want any cold air getting in.” Matthew coughed, then went on. “Uh, is someone like, coming to let you in?”

“Yeah, Tristan is coming, he’s gonna be home soon. Also, hello.”

“What?”

“You said that your mum said hi, so i’m responding to that.” He put his head on Majesty’s for a moment, exhaling. When he picked it up again, he saw that he accidentally clicked on the facetime button.

It was at least nice to see his face.

“Sis, you’re red.” Matthew said, looking at the camera.

Martin cocked his head to the side, then cursed as he dropped his phone. “Why thank you for the relay of information,” he snarked, but it was the first time he had looked at himself since he was with Sadie. That was what, an hour and a half ago? Two?

His eyes looked sunken in, skin pale except for the exessive spots of red on his cheeks, ears, and his eyes, but that was different, because he had been crying. Still. He wasn’t able to tell with his lips, mostly because the black lipstick he normally wore was still clinging to his lips. It was truly a look.

“Are you alright?” Martin gave him a look that signified that he was anything but. “Right, right, force of habit, sorry darlin’… Random question, why would you go out in that cold of weather, especially cause you’re crippled?”

Ah, he was wondering if that question would come up. “Well, it was around six degrees when I left, I didn’t expect the temperature to drop so suddenly.”

Matthew gave him a perturbed look. “Six? That’s freezing?!”

“Well, yeah? But it wasn’t that bad. It wasn’t even freezing temperatures.” The other boy’s face didn’t change. It really wasn’t awful, but… oh wait. “Six degrees celsius Matthew, not fahrenheit. It would be about…” He thought about it for a minute, trying to ignore the sudden gust of wind. “Fourty… fouty-four degrees fahrenheit, I believe?”

“Oh, right, right, yeah. You know, y’all shame Americans for using fahrenheit, but it actually aduquateds for humans, not water. So.”

Well he was right about that, he was pretty sure. He couldn’t remember at the moment. “Hm.” He shut his eyes for a moment, trying to remove the heavy feeling from his eyelids.

“Woah hey, aren’t you not supposed to sleep? You might not wake up.”

“I wasn’t going to sleep. My eyes hurt.” He moved a trembling hand on top of Majesty’s head, once again back to petting. He blanked out for a moment, but he came back to Matthew talking, or yelling, through the phone.

“Darlin’- you need to wake up!” He looked at the phone, blinking eratically. He fell asleep? “Oh thank god,” he heard Matthew mutter through the phone. He looked up, realizing Majesty was walking around him, trying to wake him up too through nudges and pawing him. “You should probably stand up so you don’t fall asleep again.”

“Right.” He used Majesty as a balance to get to his feet, stepping around a couple times to try and get feeling back into his leg. Where the fuck was Tristan? He walked up and down the steps a few times, seeing that the tips of his fingers were going from a paper white to a more blue colour. He brought them to his face and wiped, feeling the skin that was marked with tears start to rip painfully.

Still shivering, he brought his phone up, asking Matthew something.

“Oh, yeah, it’s basically when-”

“What did I ask you?” He asked, looking at the phone.

The other boy looked at him, an indeterminable look in his eyes. “Uh, you asked about what happens-” The phone went black. He tried turnng it on again, to no avail, when he realized it died. His head was spinning, and he tried turing it on again, and again, until Majesty nudged him, and he had to stop tears from coming again.

He sat next to the door, the service dog standing next to him. He blinked harshly, feeling something burn in his chest again.

Majestly circled him again, going back to standing in the same spot. He rubbed him a couple times, but then had to rub his eyes.

“-rtin a dumbass yeah but he’ll be fine.” He woke up, feeling like he was being poked by a bunch of sewing needles. He blinked slowly, trying to sit up when he felt the blanket fall off.

Blanket? Martin moved his hand around, looking for Majesty. A coat of fur under his hand made him exhale in relief.

“Christ, Martin, you gave everyone here a fucking heart attack, you actually back with us this time?”

He muttered something, but it came out sounding weird, so he repeated it, with better results. “Can you give me a chance to see who everyone is before you start screaming.” He used Majesty to help him up, who jumped on the couch next to him to help him actually stay up.

Standing in front of him was Tristan, and two other guys that Martin recognized from school. David and Aaron, he’s pretty sure it was.

Doing a quick glance around, he noticed that A) His clothes had been changed. He was wearing a black sweater and sweat pants, B) He was in fact warm, seeing as there was a heater pointed at his direction, and C) his phone was no where to be found. He wondered how many hours he had been asleep.

Tristan opened his mouth to say something, but Martin interupted him. “Who changed my clothes?” This seemed to stop whatever the other boy was going to say.

“You did?”

Martin gave him an incredious look. “I feel like I would remember that.”

“Clearly not. What��s today Martin?”

He tried to remember the last conversation he had with someone over text. It was with… Matthew, who he really needed to call back, he realized. “Er… Wednesday, December 14?”

“It’s a few hours until friday. You’ve been asleep or on autopilot for like, the last 24 hours.” Oh. That didn’t feel right. That was even worse, actually. “Also, Dad and Oliver are on their way back. They were gonna come back before, but you were awake and like, warming up so I told them not to.”

Yeah, cool, whatever, he was still confused about the autopilot thing. “How often do I do that?”

Tristan raised a confused eyebrow, then said, “Oh, not that often, just right after like, messed up stuff happens. You kinda just, go through the mechanics of something.”

“When else have I done it?”

He pursed his lips. “Er, I’ll tell you later.” So he’d done it after what happened with Seth. He wouldn’t have figured it out at the moment if it weren’t for the thing his brother did with his mouth whenever his Mother’s husband was brought up.

“Right, ok.” He got up from the couch, noting as Tristan said something to his friends and waved as they quickly left. “Where’s my phone?”

“It’s where you left it.” He saw Martin’s face and added, “It’s on your bed.” Ah. He went to go walk to the stairs, but staggered on the second step. Majesty was already by hi side, so he leaned on him. “I can go get it Mars, or you can have Majesty get it, but Oliver said, and I quote ‘Your impulsevness and boyfriend can wait two seconds. Sit down Martin.’”

He sat back on the couch and sighed. “Phone, Majesty.” The dog perked up and ran up the stairs, coming back and dropping it on his lap. “Good boy,” he cooed, petting the top of his head.

Martin unlocked it (wincing at the date), partially watching as Tristan got up and walked out the room. He went to his last texts, and saw some that weren’t his. He assumed it was his brother who texted him, just saying that he was alive, and in the house.

You

December 15, 9:07 PM

Hey.

Is this a bad time?

Depends on who I’m talkin to

I hope I’m on the good spectrum then.

Darlin?

Your one and only.

I meant to put ‘the’ but ‘your’ works too.

I’m so glad you’re alright

Like, I thought I fucking lost you

You can’t kill me all that easily.

Right.

Well.

I’m actually in public rn and I can’t call and I’m sure there are some people you need to talk to

Yeah.

Sorry :(

Give me one hour and then i’m all yours

Take your time Love.

I sure have a lot of it.

I’m currenty on bedrest, so…

Aw :(

I won’t take up much more of your time then.

Call me when you can?

I miss you.

Of course darlin

And i miss you too

Martin closed out of the messenger app, only to get a little black heart sent to him. He loved that motherfucker.

He didn’t even bother texting his dad to see if the man was busy or not. He knew that if he did that it would be an immediate phone call, so, there wasn’t really a point.

He wouldn’t consider his father pushy or too suffocating. Martin loved and attention and praise he got from his father. His only concern was that Oliver would do some stupid shit (like father, like son) and burn himself out trying to care for everyone else.

He went to the contact and pushed the call button. It rang twice before both of his parents’ (fathers’?) asked about a million questions, all being variations of ‘What happened?’ and ‘Are you ok?’ and ‘We’re nearly home.’

“Yes, concerned adults, I’m perfectly fine. I just left my key at Sadie’s, I think. I should probably call and ask her-”

Tristan handed him a mug filled with overly sweetened hot tea, the only way he would drink it. “Don’t worry about it, her parents brought it back, along with like, a million other things because they felt so bad.”

Martin put it on speaker, just so they’d know who Martin was suddenly talking to. “I insisted on walking home, so it’s really my fault.” He took a sip of the tea when he heard the voices from the other end disprove this statement. “Also, define “a million.”

His brother shrugged. “I hope you like chocolate and tiny doll eyes.” He couldn’t help but feel like shit about it. He insisted he walk home, and he forgot his key, so he didn’t know why they blamed themselves so much. It was really on himself.

“I can hear your thinking Martin. You can’t blame yourself for this.” A door closed on the other side of the phone.

“I very well can, and I very well will.” Tristan sighed, but didn’t say much else about it. “Anyway.”

Over the phone, Nick asked: “Did you try calling a locksmith?” Martin felt his chest tighten up at the question. Majesty was immedietly at his side, putting his head on his lap. The other boy took notice and took the mug from his grip, and grabbed his hand.

He was going to say somehing, but jumped when the front door was unlocked and opened. Tristan hung up the phone, squeezing his hand at the same time.

Oliver and Nick walked in, not even bothering to hide their relief, until they noticed the condition that the other three were in, relief turning into concern.

“Hey baby,” Oliver said, coming and putting a hand on Martin’s shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

Martin exhaled, feeling better that his father was back with him. “Uh,” he laughed awkwardly, another shrill laugh. He opened his mouth, then closed it, not being able to pinpoint a good response, so he just shrugged and crossed his arms.

Tristan let go of his hand pretty quickly, instead going over to talk to his dad. Oliver put himself where Tristan was, giving his son an indetrminable smile.

He held out his arms, a silent invitation for a familiar embrace. Martin crawled over, filling the space and resting his head on the crease of his father’s neck. He felt a hand soothingly run up and down his back, reassurances being whispered in his ear.

“So you wanna rely on how you nearly died again..?” Well he won’t pass on having good attention on him.

Oliver whispered, “We can talk later baby.” To which he nodded, breaking away from the much needed hug.

Later, when he got some time alone, where Nick was cooking and the other two were in the parlor, he was upstairs, going back to the familiar contact.

You

December 15, 10:43 PM

Attachment: One image

:)

👁👁?

It’s in german

I’m fully aware.

Well I can’t google translate cause it’s a picture

Once again, I am fully aware love :).

😾😾

Rude

I will be having someone translate that later so don’t act all smug

I wouldn’t dream of it.

Hm. Call me

Alright.

“Hey darlin’,” the voice said over the phone.

[vaguekiwi]

*reads violet rain ch27* *screams internally for 10mins straight* *wanders off in a daze to get a drink and some chocolate* fsck I need some fluffy comfort fics now

I’m gonna reply to all your asks right here I hope that’s okay ❤️ This was like 100% my fault for being offline but there’s a whole damn conversation under the cut 😂

FSCKING BECK WHEN WILL HE DIE!?!?! lol. Oh boy. My starker heart came to life when Peter thought that somehow Tony was there to save him, and then my starker heart shrivelled into a sad little lump when Peter was on the brink of letting Tony die. But I have to say it did feel painfully realistic, like yeah, if he just let Tony die maybe a lot of problems would be solved. Seems like their relationship has another 100k words to go in order to get anywhere good! Which I for one, welcome! Lol

YES GOD BECK IS INFURIATING IN THIS FIC. I was rereading 16 and 18 the other day (which are Beck’s chapters) and I was like ‘man, I even knew what was coming and these chapters are still SO unsettling on the reread 😂’

I think that the moment where Peter has the opportunity to let Tony die (ostensibly at no fault of his own, albeit he designed the poison sooo 👀🤷‍♀️) is a really important moment for the fic. It digs into that idea that gets brought up in 28 that this is more a reflection of Peter’s character and the concept of divine grace, rather than Tony. Don’t get me wrong, I love Tony. But Violet Rain I think is more of a Peter fic 😄 And… just in the directions things ended up going in, that climactic moment centres more on Peter’s character and concepts of forgiveness rather than revenge.

Their relationship probably does have another 100k words to go to get to a stable place… but umm… we can follow up on this after 29 and 30 are posted 😂

-yo yo just read ch28 of violet rain and like i think this is the first chapter in months that did NOT send my blood pressure through the roof so thank you for that lol. just absolutely incredible what a rollercoaster this has been you should do something fun to celebrate when you get to the end of this fic!

i loved Tony's coma visions of his family and his conversation with Ben. in my opinion it was absolutely spot on - peter didn't save tony because of who tony is, he saved Tony because of who he (peter) is. and that's true grace! nice! like everyone else, i ADORED the cuddling. i like to think that despite everything some part of tony and peter realises that there's this unacknowledged potential & burgeoning chemistry between them. if they had only met under different circumstances...*heart eyes*

also i find violet rain amazing because I feel I could be fine with an ending where Tony annuls the marriage & leaves, then Peter just happily rules Arachne, the end! and they're both like, ok, that was a crazy few months, guess i was kind of attracted to you, occasionally felt a weird connection with you, but never mind lol. meanwhile i, the starker-shipping reader, crumbles into a pile of ashes haha. but that ending would absolutely make sense and be fine! i need to ramble more about this

i'm just so invested in violet rain's ending because like I said, i think it could go either way & make perfect sense. i was just imagining an epilogue where Tony and Peter get word of each other's re-marriage/engagement, Tony to some nice noblewoman & Peter to some nice duke/soldier, & they're both like, oh,that's nice! congratulations & there's some weird unexpected wistfulness & mixed feelings but ultimately acceptance, so it's one of those bittersweet endings that haunts readers FOREVER lmao

I'm so sorry for the spam and ramblings from my imagination haha. I just can't remember the last time I was so invested in a fic! ch28 was such a welcome change of pace for me and my heart rate lol compared to the last i don't know how many chapters! i absolutely love peter refusing to leave Tony for even a second. is it just because he's the only one with the required medical expertise? or also for other, subconscious reasons he's left unexamined? regardless, it made my shipper heart happy!

Yeah, I was quite adamant that 28 not end on a big cliffhanger/scary moment. I didn’t even really want to mention the annulment again, I wanted the end of 28 to just be soft and sweet between the boys. But, part of Tony’s little moral shift involved mentioning the annulment. And I didn’t want it to be forgotten about when it comes up again, so my beta and I added a beat right at the end of 28 which mentions it.

I am so happy you liked Tony’s dreams/visions/whatever-they-actually-were lol 😅 Originally, Ben was kinda weirdly-nice to Tony and my betareader ended up pushing for a harsher tone, which I think ended up working out GREAT. Because, the dreams needed to read as EITHER an ethereal/paranormal experience for Tony OR as Tony’s subconscious speaking to himself, what would Tony think these people will say/do.

“If they had met under different circumstances” is really the kicker, isn’t it? I have an ex who I often think of as being ‘the right person at the wrong time’. He very well could have been the absolute-endgame-love-of-my-life. He was effortless for me: we had many of the same values, many of the same interests, we were compatible in many ways, etc. But I think that endgame would only have existed if we’d met differently and once we were older. Now, he and I never hurt one another as egregiously as Tony hurts Peter or anything like that. But it’s very hard to walk away from so much potential just because the timing or setting or external factors didn’t work out.

And honestly? You just being on board with a non-Starker ending? 🥺🥺 That makes me so soft. I’m glad the direction of the story fits and the thought of that tiny bit of heartbreak-wistful-but-still-satisfying-happyish-ending is actually exactly what I’m going for (though, spoiler alert, your proposal here isn’t how it ends 😅) It’s something bittersweet; acknowledging that a lot of pain and heartbreak has occurred but still finding a way to move forward. They have a lot of life left to live, after all!

I’m a big fan of the artist Sleeping at Last and his songs Three and Light have been on my mind a lot as I draft the end of the fic. Three has a whole thing about past regrets and doing enough to make up for them, even though humans are automatically worthy of love/grace/etc.

Please never ever apologise for talking to me about this fic. As you can tell from this reply (which I actually pared down, lmao) I have SO much to talk about regarding my own life, this fic, different scenes, the brainstorming/drafting/re-brainstorming/re-drafting/revising process, etc. I think once I’m done I’m gonna write up a really big reflection for myself and there’s no doubt in my mind it’ll be like ten thousand words lmao.

And as for Peter staying by Tony’s side: Peter Parker’s a control freak 😂 Part of it is that he has the most expertise, but he also mentions in Ch. 28 that if he did go sleep somewhere else then he wouldn’t be able to sleep because he’d be worried about Tony. So, there is indeed something subconscious keeping him by Tony’s side in addition to his perceived obligation as a doctor (he did the same thing with Rhodey in Chs. 7-8.)

I really really hope the end of the fic holds up my end of the bargain to you and other readers with this whole crazy adventure❤️❤️❤️ I’m not sure right now when 29 and 30 will be up, but I can’t wait for you to read them ❤️❤️❤️

[sheliesshattered]

I got through about 95% of the sewing for the second (TARDIS-blue) mock-up of the Oswin Oswald dress today, and I think I can officially say that the pattern is ready to go for the real thing, woot! I still need to do a little handsewing on the draped thing at the front neckline, and turn under all the raw edges and tack them down, but that should all go pretty quickly I think. 

After what a logistical nightmare drafting the pattern has been at every stage, I’m always surprised at how quickly the dress itself sews together. I started this morning with the first seam pinned but nothing sewed at all, and worked on it a little throughout the day, in between Jack’s meetings and getting other chores done. Then this evening I buzzed through putting in the zipper and sewing all the main seams over the course of two television episodes. 

I want to try it on again tomorrow before I start on the handsewing, but my first impression of it tonight is that all the changes I wanted to make to version 1 worked out really well, the fit and the drape and everything are doing what I wanted them to do. The sleeve pattern is a little fiddly to get lined up with the body of the dress, but the fit works well enough that I don’t think I’ll mess with it before I make the red version. Jersey is wonderfully forgiving that way.

The red fabric shipped today, and since it’s only coming from LA I expect it’ll be here tomorrow or Wednesday. I already have the zipper and thread on hand, so I should be able to dive into making the real dress before the end of the week, just as soon as I can get the fabric through the wash and then the pieces cut out. I want to get to it quick, while the memory of sewing the blue version is so fresh in my mind, but I’m also just super excited to have this costume wearable, so staying motivated to finish it shouldn’t be a problem.

I have all the accessories sourced and bookmarked, so I’ll probably go ahead and order those in the next couple of days too. There are a couple of specialized pieces for the belt that I have to order from Etsy, then paint and assemble, and honestly that’s probably going to take the longest of all the steps I have left. My goal was to get this costume done in time for Halloween, and I think I’ll be waaaay ahead of schedule on that. :D

Along with the red fabric for the Oswin dress, I also ordered a bunch of fabric samples for Clara’s Time Heist suit, and I think I’ll probably just dive right into that one as soon as Oswin is done. There’s a whole different set of challenges involved with that costume, sewing a suit for the first time and fitting it to myself, so it’ll be interesting to see how that goes. But I have all the materials I need for sewing mock-ups, a couple of patterns to work from as a jumping off point, and a bunch of tutorials and tailoring info bookmarked online. And I’m super excited about learning this stuff, leveling up my sewing skills. There are so many amazing suits and frock coats in Doctor Who, I would really love to have the skills under my belt to tackle some of those in the future.

Of course, no idea of when I’ll have an out-of-the-house event to wear these costumes to, but eh, it’ll happen someday. And when that rolls around, I’ll be excited to debut a few more of my dream cosplays.