#i just imagine that it was the most casual transition anyone has ever done

[thegroundhogdidit]

interpreting riley as transmasc is so fucking funny because to me that means that he socially transitioned on a whim as a kid and the entire town just. forgot he was ever a girl. he's an altar boy now. bev asks "didn't you have a daughter before" and the flynns just shrug and shake their heads

[juseki-taisen]

Ive watched the anime and that was some good shit right there. the mix of 3-D and 2-D animation is wonderful too! I would love to know how the 12 would treat their recently transitioned or in transition S/O because I hear “trans rights” coming from them

You bet your bottom dollar that they all scream TRANS RIGHTS!

Updated: Because I did Sharyu twice and forgot Nezumi. Sorry!

Inounoshishi

Dating Inounoshishi while transiting is actually ideal

Not only does she support you and whatever gender you want to be, but mama has money and is going to pay for it

You're her darling, why wouldn't she pay to keep you happy?

She's also going to take you shopping. She loves shopping and the idea of getting you a whole new wardrobe is to good.

Just be nice and say thank you, and show how much you appreciate her

Honestly? She never got to figure out who she really was/is as a person since she was always trying to please her parents. Seeing you figure out/announcing who you really are is really motivating for her.

Dotsuku

Doesn't have a problem with it.

May occasionally slip up on your pronouns, but always corrects himself immediately. After a week? Doesn't mess up again

Dog. Loyal. He's not about to let something like you being who you really are affect what he thinks of you.

Added bonus: His daughter just rolls with it. Kids aren't as stupid as people make them out to be. If you used to be a princess/prince, you're now the opposite. The real question is, what kind of super hero cape do you want?

Dostuku will help with your medical bills. If doctors give you shit for it, the man has connections. He will find a good doctor who respects you and get your surgery (if you so choose) taken care of

Niwatori

The whole idea of being trans is a little confusing at first for her, but it takes about 000.1 seconds for her to decide it doesn't really matter?

Her whole life she's been a tool for the family, with you she's a person. In the end, no matter how you identify, as long as you still love her that's what matters?

Does a TON of research. She gets books, medical journals, ect. She uses her contacts to find doctors for you, and don't worry. Cost isn't an issue.

Anyone who tries anything just...vanishes. You know from that weird smile she gets she 110% had something to do with it

If you ever feel ad or dysphoric about your body, she's very supportive.

Sharyu

She already knew. She's very perceptive, and was just waiting for you to be comfortable telling her.

The most supportive.

Does whatever she can to make you comfortable. If you want new cloths, she'll shop with you. If you're to embarrassed to go to a store, she'll order online.

Never uses the incorrect pronouns for you.

Will put one of those little trans flags in the window of her apartment.

If there's a pride event, will go with you.

Arranges a good doctor for your transition when you're ready, and will go to appointments if you're nervous

Hitsujii

He's old, and has seen it all. He may be older, but he's not going to question it.

One of those "Whatever makes you happy" people

Doesn't understand a lot of surgery details and hormone stuff. He'll try to research it, but you may have to help him learn terminology. He does catch on fast

The idea of surgery freaks him out because he has no control. He’d help you, but he is going to be silently panicking on the inside

Uuma

Actually really cool with it? Just tell him you still love him. The first thing he worries about is that you’re going to become this amazing you, and the you that loved him wont love him anymore

Really supportive? Doesn’t know a lot about trans issues, but he tries

He will probably buy you anything with the trans flag on it. 

If you have surgery, he’s going to make sure only the BEST doctors do it

Listens when you talk if you have feelings to get out. It just makes him really happy you’re confiding in him

Takeyasu

Trans? Cool. Fine. Help him pull off this heist

He really doesn’t care, if you’re happy he’s fine with it? 

Actually brings up frogs that can change their gender, and that there’s a species of lizards that reproduce without asexually. If reptiles do it, why can’t people?

Gives you money for surgery if you wanna get it. Worries through the entire thing, but only Nagayuki knows about his brother internal freak out

Also, shopping spree. Criminal shopping spree. grab and RUN

Has trouble using the correct pronouns, but tries really hard and corrects himself. 

Nagayuki

He already knew way before you told him. He’s perceptive, smart, and also finds your online content. Really, he was just waiting for you to tell him yourself

Probably gets you a tray of cupcakes with the frosting colored with the trans flag colors. He likes snacks, any excuse to get snacks and make you happy? Killing two birds with one stone

Master of your pronouns and possibly your new name

You know how hard it is to change your name? This dude hacks into the systems and does it in a night. 

Helps you get surgery if you want it. Not emotional about it, but will hold your hand if you want him to. 

Ushii

Help him. He doesn’t understand trans when you first bring it up, but when you explain it clicks

Now he is fully on board and ready

While he can’t keep up with a lot of LGBTQ+ terms, he supports you and what makes you happy. You want to be the gender you’ve always wanted? No problem. Just tell him what he needs to do

Has fought someone who purposely misgendered you before. 

Will take you shopping if you’d like

You want surgery? He knows people. Honestly? He’s so well known that the doctors are volunteering to make sure it gets done properly.

Never once messes up your pronouns.

Tora

She’s seen so much on the battlefield that when you tell her, she’s not that concerned. It’s great that you trust her, and she will support you but...You’re not going to leave her, right? 

Cuzz she loves you with all her heart and if someone like you can become every more yourself (and therefor more amazing) why would you stay with a screw up like her?

After she gets past her insecurities, Tore is very supportive of you

Has punched a guy in the face for being rude to you. Maye have started a street brawl over it, it’s fine. She won.

Surgery freaks her out no matter what is it, but she’s going to be there if you want it. She may just cry when you can’t see her. What if something goes wrong???

It wont and you’re fine but you wake up and she’s crying like a BABY

Usagi

This...is kind of a disaster? Not in the way you’re thinking

He gets all your pronouns right, and quickly is VERY excited to call you his new girl/boy friend. 

But uh...people may die...A lot of people

If he notices that people give you weird looks, they’re dead. He will FIGHT and MURDER people who are transphobic (but what’s the loss really?)

Loves to shop with you, and tries to pull things he thinks you’d like (probably kills people there too, RIP)

If you want the surgery, you have to do the research. Usagi doesn’t get it. HOWEVER he will help pay...sort of

“It’s expensive”

“Will this cover it?” Proceeds to pull out diamonds and gold bars, and...is that a rare species of monkey? WHERE DID HE GET A MONKEY?

How do you even exchange that for money?

Imagine going to pride with Usagi. 

Snuggling with Usagi if you have body dysphoria. Him not really understanding everything but 110% being willing to support you. 

Neuzmi

Already knew. Not a huge deal for him. 

Supportive, but really casual about it

He’s great with pronouns, and does use his ability a lot to try and make sure he doesn’t say something to make you uncomfortable

always quick to apologize if he does. 

[goldnratio]

Inconvenient Interruptions (Spencer Reid x reader)

Summary: the team has to catch an unsub at a nightclub. spencer is paired up with female reader. they flirt, dance, and confess some feelings.

Warnings: briefly mentioned killings, some touching and kissing, microscopic teen wolf and beetlejuice references, a little ooc Spencer I think, and some guns at the end

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: I’m thinking of doing a part 2 that’s smut but idk yet,,, this is a hot mess but enjoy :))

—

Going undercover wasn’t so bad, you’d done it plenty of times while working for the BAU. Usually you’d go by yourself - with the rest of the team and local cops outside - or with a partner, and that sometimes meant you’d portray friends or lovers. Having been paired up with everyone on the team at least once, you’d probably say that you preferred pairing up with Spencer Reid. You were comfortable with the whole team, but you felt different with Spencer. You liked him, and you only hoped he felt the same. If not, then all the casual flirting back and forth would have just gone waste.

This case involved another serial killer, identified as forty-one year old Adam Raeken, that was going around Los Angeles, California and preying on all types of young couples. He seemed to have favored night clubs; abducting a couple from one club, and disposing their bodies somewhere near a different club. So far, he managed to abduct and kill six different couples without getting caught, and your team was hoping to catch him before he got a seventh.

After learning when and where Adam would strike next - around 9:30 PM at a club a few miles from the LA police station called ‘Dante’s Inferno’ - every available unit was going to be deployed.

Turned out, ‘Dante’s Inferno’ was a pretty big club, both in size and popularity. In an effort to try and catch Adam without causing a mass panic, every officer and agent was to go in plain clothes, along with the law enforcement waiting outside.

Even though the informant gave a rough time estimate, the team got there when the bar first opened at 8:00 PM to keep tabs on everyone who walked into the club.

—

Hotch made you and Spencer partners, assigning you the task of focusing on scoping the bar area for Adam.

You’d chosen a short, red bodycon dress that hugged your curves with matching heels and a loaded gun in your bag, acting coy with Spencer while you all waited for Adam to show up.

“What’s a girl like you, doing in a place like this?” Spencer said as he got comfortable in the bar seat next to you.

You take a sip from your non-alcoholic beverage and grin, “You use that opener with all the ladies?”

“Just the gorgeous ones.”

“Well to answer your question, I’m looking for someone.” Your smile feigns innocence, except Spencer can see the humor in your eyes.

“Really? A pretty girl looking for someone? I would’ve guessed someone here would be looking for you.”

“Most days, but tonight is special. He’s unique.” You wink at Spencer and he laughs.

“I’m sure he is. With a woman like you after him, he’s a lucky guy.”

You sigh dramatically. “That depends on if I find him tonight,” you take another sip from your drink, “if not, I’ll have to go home all by myself.”

“Oh please, I’m sure any man in here -“

Static coming from your earpieces interrupts him.

“Reid, (Y/L/N), if you could focus on the case, please.”

“Sorry, Hotch,” you blush, looking away from Spencer.

“Yeah, sorry, Hotch,” Spencer cleared his throat, “we’ll focus.”

“You can flirt off the clock after we’ve caught Raeken,” Emily teased.

You saw her down at the end of the bar with JJ and stuck your tongue out at her. JJ tries not to laugh as Emily fake gags.

“Ladies, if you can keep it together for the rest of the night, you can have your pick of a wine bottle from my cellar,” Rossi chuckled.

“Got it.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You bet.”

No one saw, but Hotch rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

You quickly scanned the other people at the bar and a portion of the dance floor, making sure Adam hasn’t showed up early.

Your attention directs back to Spencer when he puts a shy hand on your waist and leaned in close to your side without the earpiece and microphone, so close that you felt his hair tickle and his breath hot on your skin.

“You know, we were ordered to come in plain clothes.”

Two can play this game, you thought.

Placing one hand on the back of his neck to play with his curls and the other on his bicep, you lean forward towards his earpiece-less side. “Plain clothes just means ‘not a uniform.’ This look like a uniform to you?” You softly squeeze his bicep, sitting up and taking another sip from your beverage.

Spencer simply shakes his head and smirks. “I just realized I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a dress.”

“I don’t think a dress, much less one like this, would be...appropriate…in the field.”

“I think I could imagine a few places it would be appropriate,” Spencer countered.

“Yeah?” You hum, “like where—“

“Alright it’s nine o’clock. Make sure you are on alert in the next twenty-five minutes so that we’re ready if he sticks to the time,” Hotch interrupts.

A series of ‘okay’s’ are heard in your earpiece.

“and (Y/L/N), Reid? Just because you’re not talking into the earpieces, doesn’t mean we can’t hear you.”

This time, it’s a series of your teammates’ laughs in your ear.

“Right, sorry...again,” Spencer answered.

You gave a small laugh and issued your second apology as Spencer excused himself to use the restroom.

—

As soon as he got in the restroom, Spencer took out his earpiece. Right before he walked into a stall, the restroom door opened and revealed none other than SSA Derek Morgan, who also took out his earpiece.

“Reid, my man!” Derek clapped his hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “Who knew you had that kinda game in you, buddy?”

“Oh my god, Derek, please don’t do this now,” Spencer deadpanned.

“Do what?”

Spencer can’t help but give him the ‘seriously?’ look.

Derek smiled. “Look, kid. All I’m going to say is that it’s obvious you’re both into each other, you should go for it.”

“That’s just it, I don’t know if she really likes me or it’s just the friendly flirting or the fact that we’re technically undercover right now!”

“Kid, I’ve gone undercover with (Y/N) before, and trust me when I say that her flirting with you is real. And I’m sure you’ve noticed that she doesn’t ‘friendly flirt’ with anyone else other than you.”

Spencer sighs. “You really think she’s into me?”

“Of course I do. You’re a great guy, Reid. You two deserve each other.”

“Thanks, Derek...but is that it because I came in here to actually use the restroom.”

“Oh,” Derek laughs, “my bad, Reid. I just came in to wash my hands but I’ll let you get to your business.”

“Right...see you out there.”

—

When Spencer made his way back to the bar, the last thing he expected to see was a man trying to hit on you. He walked a little faster to you and noticed how your eyes lit up when he got there.

“Oh look! Here he is!”

The mystery guy looked at Spencer, and he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy at the thought of this man making a move on you while he wasn’t there.

“Who are you?” He asked Spencer in a bitter tone.

Spencer took a step closer to you and put an arm around your shoulders, “Her boyfriend.”

Luckily the man got the hint and left, and Spencer’s arm loosened up on your shoulders.

“Sorry I left, I didn’t think anything would happen in such a short time.”

Reaching for one of his hands and you give it a quick squeeze. “It’s not your fault, and um, thank you.”

“No problem.”

You both sit in silence - as much silence that’s possible at a crowded club with music that’s blaring, until you hear a familiar beat. You glance at your watch, it's almost 9:10 PM and you realize there’s time to have some fun.

“Hey,” you look up at Spencer, “you wanna dance?”

His instincts almost kick in to say no. But then Derek’s restroom advice is ringing in his head, ‘you should go for it.’

He gives you a hesitant smile, “Yeah, let’s go.”

“Okay, just a sec.” You reach for your earpiece. “Hey guys? Spence and I are gonna scope out the dance floor.”

“You sure you’re not going just to dance with Pretty Ricky?”

Spencer blushed.

“Yes, Derek. We are also going to dance, we have to blend in.”

“Just stay focused,” Hotch reminds you.

With Hotch’s semi-blessing, you grab Spencer’s hand and lead him to the middle of the dance floor.

At first, Spencer is a little stiff, but you’re patient with him as he tries to find a rhythm that works for him. In any other circumstance, Spencer would’ve lost his mind trying to dance to music so loud that he can feel it in his bones while surrounded by sweaty bodies. He can only tolerate it because you’re with him.

Only because it’s his large hands that have a tight grip on your hips.

Only because it’s his long fingers dangerously close to the curve of your ass.

Only because it’s your hands in his hair.

Only because it’s his eyes your gaze is burning into.

Only because it’s your body moving in sync with his.

The upbeat music lasted a few good songs, but the music transitioned into something slower. It sounds like R&B, but you lose focus with how Spencer’s hands feel on your lower back, practically burning through your dress. And how good he smells. And how handsome he looks in the club’s colorful lighting. You almost forget why you’re in the club in the first place.

Your hands are on his shoulders, slowly traveling to the back of his head to thread your fingers in his hair as he leans forward to bring his face closer to yours. Neither of you say anything while you stare at each other, both too afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing.

You don’t know who leans in first, but you can feel Spencer’s nose brush against yours and his lips are just millimeters away and -

“All agents, I have eyes on the target. I repeat, I have eyes on the target.”

Crap, it was finally 9:30.

You quickly pull apart from each other, despite the disappointment evident in both of your faces.

“Copy that. Where’s he by?” You’re looking around the dance floor but don’t see him.

“Raeken is approaching the bar. Remember to proceed with caution, we want to avoid casualties.”

You double check the dancing crowd to make sure there’s other plain clothed law enforcement, not wanting to leave anything to chance.

“Let’s go get a drink, all this moving made me thirsty.” You kiss Spencer’s cheek, and his face is flushed as he follows you to the bar.

Adam’s already ordering a drink, so you settle a few seats away. To avoid suspicion, you order drinks for yourself and Spencer, but he looks tense and you’re hoping no one notices.

You wrap your arms around Spencer’s neck to get closer so he’ll hear you. “You’re too stiff, follow my lead.”

Moving just a few feet closer to Adam, you purposefully drop your drink, gaining the attention of the people around you.

“Oh no!” you pout.

When Spencer asks the bartender for a rag, he sees Adam staring at you with a dark look in his eyes. Spencer doesn’t like it but he has no choice but to stick to whatever plan you have.

Spencer turns back to you and helps you clean up your spilled drink. Fortunately, the cup was plastic and not glass.

Once the mess is cleaned up, you thank the bartender for the rug and ‘accidentally’ bump into Adam.

“Sorry about that,” you fake giggle.

He smirks at you, his eyes never leaving your body. You fight the urge to arrest him right there.

“No worries, gorgeous.” He takes a sip from his own drink as you walk back to Spencer.

You hug him again, and his hands gravitate towards the middle of your back. “Is Raeken looking?”

Spencer nods.

“Okay, good. Sorry about this in advance.”

That’s when you lean in to kiss him and you lightly push down on his arms. Luckily, Spencer gets the idea and moves his hands to your backside and squeezes. He relishes in the taste of your mouth and the sound of your moan, until you break the kiss.

He has to remind himself how to breathe when you ask him if he wants to get out of there, just loud enough for Adam to hear. You wink at Adam as you walk past him, anticipating him to follow you as you lead Spencer to the club’s exit.

“Hotch, he’s leaving with Reid and (Y/L/N).”

“Start to make your way towards the exit, we’ll catch him outside.”

Some officers stay inside, while the rest of your team is following you three out.

Outside, you’re surrounded by police cars to ensure the serial killer’s capture, who was just a few seconds behind you and Spencer. You quickly throw on some vests you were handed and pull out your gun.

Adam walks out of the club and the look on his face is priceless.

“Adam Raeken, freeze!”

He tries to make a run for it back into the club, but your team is already blocking the entrance, guns pointed straight at him.

In a matter of minutes, Adam is cuffed, being read his Miranda rights, and in the back of a cop car.

Before heading back to the LA precinct, you want to talk with Spencer.

“Hey Spence,” you pull him to the side, “can we talk really quick?”

“Of course, (Y/N).”

You walk away from the crowd of law enforcement and onlookers leaving the club.

“Listen, about the kiss and everything I said at the bar, I’m sorry again for springing that on you. It was completely unprofessional of me and unfair to you.”

Spencer cleared his throat. “No uhh, don’t worry. I’m sorry about what I said at the bar too, but the kiss thing was okay, really, I enjoyed it.”

You giggle and he immediately realizes what he said.

“Wait I didn’t mean that - I mean - Not that I didn’t enjoy it, because to be honest, I did and -“

He’s surprised by the feeling of your lips on his, and he’s already kissing you back before he brain can even process it.

You pull back with a small smile on your face. “Spencer, I like you too.”

He sighs in relief, “Oh good, if not this would’ve been awkward.”

“Totally,” you laugh in agreement, “but um, since the case is over, do you maybe wanna get a cup of coffee or something when we get back?”

“I’d like that, yeah.”

“Okay, great! I guess we can-“

“Hey, Romeo! Juliet!”

Your’s and Spencer’s heads whip to the direction of the voice, belonging to a very smug Derek Morgan.

“You two done over there? Because we’ve got a case to wrap up and a plane home to catch!”

You yell back, “In a minute!”

Spencer’s yelling, “Alright! We’ll be right there!” at the same time.

“We can talk more about this,” you gesture between the two of you with your hands with a grin, “later.”

You’re both wearing smiles on your faces as you walk shoulder-to-shoulder, back to your team, trying not to think about the numerous questions they’re about to ask.

[deja-you]

times new roman | episode five

t. jefferson x reader

summary: Y/n needs a date. Thomas would be more than happy to oblige.

trailer | previous | next

A few hours earlier...

Sometimes, as humans, we love and forget how to stop loving. Questions will go through your head, like: what if I can’t ever stop loving you? What if I forget everything about myself, and only remember your name? Sometimes we meet the person we want to fall asleep beside. The person whose heartbeat you just can’t help but count. 

And then sometimes we meet Thomas Jefferson. Arrogant, know-it-all Thomas Jefferson. The casual flirt who didn’t care for real relationships and was content with one-night stands. The lawyer who defended big oil companies and wealthy business men because, as he put it, “someone had to do it.” The man who had been born into a wealthy family, got into a good school because his family made large contributions, and couldn’t imagine a life void of penthouse apartments and designer suits. In conclusion, Thomas Jefferson was not a man Y/n could ever see herself dating.

This wasn’t a date. They both made that perfectly clear. Quite frankly, Y/n was bored and had nothing else to do. At least, that’s what she told herself. There was nothing harmful about hanging out with her father’s employee for a while, was there? It was fun and meaningless, what could be wrong about it?

But if you had told Y/n how the day was going to end, she would never have left the coffee shop. In fact she would’ve thought you were joking. But no one was there to tell her how the day was going to end, so she did leave the coffee shop. Thomas called an Uber and a few minutes later, Kevin, in a silver Prius showed up to take the pair to Coney Island. 

“Really? The Thomas Jefferson takes Ubers? I thought you would have a private driver or a luxury car,” Y/n said. 

“S’that really what you think of me? I’m a man of the people, angel.”

She rolled her eyes. “A man of the people who wears $600 Burberry shoes.”

“Excuse me? For your information, I got these shoes on sale. See? I’m just like ordinary people, shopping sales and stuff,” Thomas tried, unconvincingly.

“How much were they on sale, Thomas?” Y/n prodded.

“...$300.”

Y/n proceeded to make fun of Thomas for buying a pair of shoes for that much, saying something about how the rich need to pay higher taxes, but he didn’t hear much of what she said. He was too focused on the fact that she had finally used his first name. 

At some point during the 45 minute ride to Coney Island, Thomas asked Kevin if he could have control over the AUX chord. Kevin agreed (earning himself a five-star rating) and Thomas then played some tunes from the 60s. 

“The Temptations?” Y/n raised an eyebrow as the catchy intro to My Girl began playing.

“You got a problem with that?” Thomas asked, then he began singing (might I add, quite loudly) along with the lyrics. “I’ve got sunshine, on a cloudy day...”

Y/n shook her head and began to sing along, but still much more reserved than Thomas. “And when it’s cold out, I’ve got the month of May...”

Thomas smiled when he heard her sing along. The chorus started and he nudged her with his shoulders, urging her to sing louder. Y/n rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t keep the smile off her face. They continued to sing the remainder of the song together until it began to die down and transition into another R&B song.

“So tell me,” Y/n began, “what made you decide to take a trip to Coney Island today?”

Thomas gave her a thoughtful look. “Used to come with my mom and siblings when we visited New York. Always had fun.”

“What about your dad?” Y/n asked.

He sighed and looked away from her. “My dad died when I was 14. We started visiting New York every summer after that.”

“I... I didn’t know. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“You couldn’t have known.” Thomas gave her a small smile. “Everything about Virginia reminded me of my dad. I think that’s why I moved to New York. I’ll visit Coney Island now and then when I want to be reminded of my family. Reminded of the good parts, at least.”

They fell into silence, neither one of them knowing what to say. The beat of some jazzy tune could be heard as well as Kevin tapping along on the steering wheel. 

“My dad used to take me to Coney Island,” Y/n finally said. She was trying to break the silence, but immediately wished she hadn’t said anything. Was it insensitive to bring up her own dad when Thomas had just told her that his dad had died?

She was put at ease when he smiled. “That so?”

Y/n nodded slowly. “Well, it was only once. I must’ve been ten? We went on a rollercoaster, even though I was terrified.” She laughed quietly before turning more serious. “I don’t think I’ve been to Coney Island since. Dad started getting more busy, which I understood of course.”

Thomas turned on his side to face her, casually resting his arm against the backseat. Maybe he didn’t know how good his bicep looked when he sat like that. Maybe he did. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be Washington’s kid. I mean, he’s an amazing guy and a great boss—feel free to tell him I said that —but running a business this size must take a lot of time.”

“It was hard at first, for my mom and I,” Y/n admitted. “He would always be traveling for work. It took us a little bit, but we figured it out. He would visit us at home sometimes, and then other times mom and I would visit him. Sometimes he would take me on work trips with him. And then it made sense to go to college in New York so I could be closer to dad.”

“Sounds like everything worked out pretty well for you and your family, then.”

“Only because my parents worked hard to make time for me. My dad was always happy to see me, but I could tell that he was exhausted after a long week and traveling home to see us.” She then added, “but I shouldn’t complain. I know a lot, if not most, people had it worse off.”

“Maybe,” Thomas shrugged, “or maybe not. You don’t need to compare your struggles to anyone else’s, angel.”

“I...I know that,” Y/n murmured.

They continued talking for the rest of the drive. Discussing which Netflix shows were the best, and which ones were garbage (Thomas was convinced Tiger King was the best show on Netflix, making Y/n roll her eyes). Thomas told some funny anecdote about one of his crazy clients, and Y/n even brought up how she was trying to find an internship with a humanitarian group. They never ran out of things to talk about, and only stopped their conversation when Kevin the Uber driver announced they had reached their destination.

“It is cold.” Y/n admitted as she stepped out of the car.

“I did tell you to bring a jacket, didn’t I? The wind coming off the ocean is pretty chilly, isn’t it?”

Y/n squinted up at the sky. “It doesn’t help that the sun hasn’t decided to come out.”

Thomas chuckled and began walking down the boardwalk. “C’mon, I know what’ll cheer you up. Let’s get food.”

There weren’t many things that could make Y/n smile the way she did when she was offered food. She happily skipped after Thomas and they came to a food stand. They ordered some variety of burgers, fries, and milkshakes, Y/n didn’t really pay much mind to it. When Thomas pulled out her wallet she swatted his hand away. 

“You paid for the Uber, I can’t let you pay for lunch, too,” Y/n insisted, pulling out her own wallet. 

He waved her off. “No, let me. What kind of gentleman doesn’t pay on a—”

“On a what, Thomas?” Y/n raised an eyebrow. “Because we’ve both agreed that this isn’t a date.”

“Right, right. Of course.”

“Besides, the whole idea that men have to pay for dates, or in our case non-dates, is completely outdated. I’m paying for lunch.” 

Thomas hid a smile and allowed Y/n to pay for lunch, seeing that nothing he said would change her mind at this point. It was mostly a pride thing, he figured. Y/n paid for the food and they ate while they walked along the boardwalk. 

“So what’s the plan now?” Y/n asked. “Are we going to go do all that touristy stuff?”

“Wasn’t my plan,” Thomas replied. “Unless that’s what you want to do. There is something I want to show you.”

“You’ve probably been here more times than me, I’ll let you make the decisions. This time.”

“Great. You done eating?”

Y/n looked down at the empty bag she held in her hand that had been filled with food only moments before. What? She was hungry. “Yep. All done.”

They tossed their garbage in a trash can, and Y/n let Thomas lead her down a boardwalk toward who knows where. They stopped so Thomas could buy a bag of cherries. Y/n had so many questions, she didn’t even know where to begin.

“You’re buying cherries? Are you hungry? We just ate. I didn’t know they were even in season,” she commented.

Thomas turned to look at her, rolling his eyes. “So you’re just going to question and insult all my decisions, then?”

She shrugged. “What else would I do?”

“C’mon, angel, let’s go.”

So with a bag of cherries in hand, Thomas continued on his way down the boardwalk with Y/n in tow. They walked in silence; Y/n didn’t even question him when Thomas stepped off the boardwalk and onto the sandy beach. They didn’t walk to the water. Thomas and Y/n walked along the boardwalk until the boardwalk was a few feet over their heads. 

They kept walking until Thomas led Y/n to a spot underneath the boardwalk. Ocean air on one side, a concrete wall filled with graffiti on the other. Sand beneath them, and the slotted wood of the boardwalk above letting through beams of sunlight. Waves could be heard crashing on the shore not too far away, along with seagulls somewhere above them and the nondescript chatter of tourists and locals. 

Thomas climbed on top of a cement slab and took a seat, opening his bag of cherries. “Here we are. This has been my spot since I was a kid. I hope you like it.”

“Under a boardwalk? Sitting on cement?”

“What? You don’t like it, angel?” He teased.

Y/n shook her head and moved to take a seat next to her. “No, I love it. I just didn’t picture Thomas Jefferson’s hangout to look like this.”

“Why do you say ‘Thomas Jefferson’ like that? Like I’m some kind of notorious billionaire playboy.”

“That’s what you think it sounds like when I say your name like that?” She laughed. “I don’t know, is that not how you see yourself?”

“Well I wouldn’t be in bad company, would I? Batman and Iron Man are both billionaire playboys,” he pointed out. “But I see myself as a suave, charming business man with a touch of Southern hospitality.”

“You’re so full of it.”

And sure, it was supposed to be an insult. But the way Y/n laughed when the words came out of her mouth made Thomas feel a way he hadn’t felt in a while. He’d rather have her insult him everyday than have some other woman whisper sweet nothings in his ear. Because all they would be is nothing, and when Y/n spoke it was like warm honey and a string orchestra.

“Perhaps.” Thomas shrugged and nudged the bag of cherries toward her. “You want one?”

She eyed them warily. “I don’t know. Are they poisoned? How do I know you didn’t lure me out to Coney Island to give me poisoned cherries and hide my body under the boardwalk?”

“Why would I want to kill you? They’re not poisoned.”

Y/n decided that he must be telling the truth and popped a cherry into her mouth.

“Besides,” Thomas continued, “if I wanted to kill you, this wouldn’t be the way.”

She swallowed roughly and stared at him with wide eyes. Seeing her expression, Thomas laughed in an attempt to reassure her. “I’m just teasin’, angel. Don’t look at me like that.”

“So,” Y/n said, “do you often lure unsuspecting women down here with a bag of poisoned cherries?”

“They’re not poisoned.” He shook his head, but his smile still reached his eyes. “But to answer your question, no. I’ll come down here now and then, usually pick up some local fruit, but I’ve never brought anyone else here.”

“Should I feel special, then?”

Thomas watched her for a moment then shrugged. “If you want. I think you’re pretty special no matter what.”

“So smooth. You practiced that?”

“If you would I believe it, no. But I have other tried and true pick-up lines.”

“Let’s hear them.”

“Really?”

She nodded, “yeah.”

“Well sometimes I’ll say,” and he proceeded to drop his voice an octave to try and sound... sexy? “‘Do you have a name? Or can I just call you mine.’“

Y/n burst out laughing again, leaving Thomas confused.

“Huh. That’s not usually the response I get,” he admitted.

She tried to contain her laughter. “I’m sorry, but that’s hilarious. Does that actually work on women?”

“You’d be surprised. 9 times out of 10.”

“Alright, alright. What else you got?”

“Okay, how about ‘are you a map? Because I just got lost in your eyes.’”

Y/n laughed again. “Really? That’s so corny.”

“Is it?” Thomas pouted. “Fine, I’d like to see you do better. Give me your best pick-up line.”

“I will do better. Okay, try this one on for size. Are you a beaver? Because dam.“ The way she said it with such seriousness must’ve made it funnier, because it was Thomas’s turn to laugh this time.

“I’ll admit,” he smiled. “I liked that one.”

“See? It’s not that hard.”

“Fine, you win. Now let’s do something I know I can beat you at.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

Thomas held up a cherry for her to see, then pulled the stem off. “Have you ever tied a knot in a cherry stem with your tongue?”

“No, but I’m sure it’s not that hard.”

Y/n would live to regret those words. For the next who-knows-however minutes, Y/n struggled to tie a knot in her cherry stem. It was one of those things that she thought she would just pick up easily, but it was so much harder than it looked. It didn’t help that Thomas was weirdly good at this, tying maybe three stems while Y/n was still working on her first. His coaching wasn’t very helpful either.

“You just need to bend the stem in half with your tongue, cross the two ends over, and tighten the knot with your teeth,” he told her for what could’ve been the hundredth time. 

“I’m trwaying! Not sthat easuh!” Y/n complained, aggressively maneuvering her tongue around the stem. Thomas laughed at her but was silenced when she sent him her very best death glare. 

For the next five minutes, Y/n was completely focused on tying the stem. First, she had to make sure the stem was bendy enough to be tied. Bending it into a half-circle was the easy part. She scrunched her nose up when she had to cross the ties, knowing this is where she had always messed up in the past. Then using her tongue to push one end of the stem through the loop, she tightened it and pulled out them stem to show Thomas.

And of course, being Thomas Jefferson, he leaned back, smirked, and said, “damn, angel, what else can that tongue do?”

Y/n’s mouth fell open. Her face heated up. She stumbled over her words until she settled on an offended, “Jefferson!”

And that stupid smile he wore when he knew he had gotten her all worked up and flustered made her think that he said it just to get a reaction out of her. The way he looked at her made her feel some kind of way, and she didn’t know if she never wanted to feel that way again, or if she never wanted to stop feeling that way. 

“Don’t be gross,” she finally muttered, her eyes trailing the sand at her feet. 

He chuckled, “sorry ‘bout that.”

Again, they fell into a silence. At some point Thomas started humming a tune that Y/n recognized as Under the Boardwalk. Fitting. A cold breeze reminded Y/n that it was still a chilling April day and the wind coming off the ocean wouldn’t let her forget that either.

“Do you want my coat?”

“What?” Had he read her mind?

“You’re visibly shivering.” Oh. “Do you want my coat?”

It’s not like Y/n hadn’t brought her own coat. She had, it was a pretty red color, but it didn’t keep the cold out well. Y/n hadn’t realized just how much colder it would be on Coney Island, but if she had thought about it for a second she would’ve known better. The problem was that when Thomas asked her to come with him and flashed her that charming smile, she didn’t think. So now she was cold.

“No. I shouldn’t—”

“Angel, can we just skip the whole pride thing? This doesn’t have to be some cliché moment where I give you my coat and it’s oversized on you and you look so cute so it’s worth it to me that I’m cold. Just take my coat, okay? You need it more than I do.”

Y/n blinked. “...okay.”

Thomas inched closer to her, shrugging the jacket off his shoulders. He wrapped the jacket around her, and then proceeded to change the course of their relationship forever. Instead of leaving the jacket on her shoulders and returning his hands to his side, his hands lingered. 

If that hadn’t happened, maybe Y/n would’ve held the jacket tightly to herself. She’d be warm. They’d continue to have light conversation. Then they would go their separate ways. Maybe she’d see him at her dad’s office and they’d give friendly nods to each other when they passed in the hallways. They’d go make to being familiar strangers, and that would be perfectly fine.

But his hands lingered. And he knew what was happening. And she knew what was happening. The kind of linger that wouldn’t occur between two friends or any two people who were less than that. He was still holding her in his arms and showed no signs of letting her go. Y/n looked up from the sand and met his eyes.

I could tell you that she saw a universe or forever or something wonderful in his eyes, but let’s be real, they were a pair of eyes. A pair of beautiful eyes, sure, but they were just eyes. So it wasn’t his eyes that made her fall in love. It wasn’t his eyes that made her lean in and kiss him. It was simply the person she had spent the last few hours getting to know. 

His lips were soft and tasted of cherries, and when he kissed her back, it was with a kind of gentleness and tenderness that Y/n hadn’t expected from Thomas.

All too soon, logic and sensibility kicked in. Y/n actually realized what she was doing, and while she didn’t want to stop, she couldn’t continue without better reasoning. 

She pulled away, not having the heart to push him away after initiating the kiss. Her whole body felt hot, and it wasn’t due to the new coat she had recently acquired. Y/n’s heart began beating more than the average beat for minute, however fast that was, she couldn’t quite think properly about anything.

“Y/n—”

Why did her name on his lips sound so good all breathy and needy from the kiss? Was that even the right way to describe it? And why couldn’t she think about anything else except him?

“I need to go.” It wasn’t Y/n’s proudest moment, but she wasn’t able to think clearly around him, and that was dangerous in itself. Maybe she’d feel bad about leaving him behind with no explanation later, but she was a too much of a mess right now to even think of that. 

She retraced her steps back up to the boardwalk (Thomas called after her a few times but ultimately let her go) and out onto the street. She got in an Uber -- or was it a taxi? Y/n couldn’t remember. The ride home seemed quicker when she was zoned out. At some point she had texted Peggy? The memory was hazy. 

Even though there were people on the streets and her driver in the front seat, Y/n suddenly felt all alone. Alone with her... feelings. Her traitorous, uncontrollable feelings. Thomas had made her feel some kind of way that the only thing that could get it to stop was just to stop feeling altogether. And that wasn’t working well for her. Y/n sighed and opened up her phone.

A/N: Let me know if I forgot to tag you or if you’d like to be tagged.

tags: @wiffle-snuffles @thisistrashperson @comingupwithacoolnameishard @wordvomit-foryourmind @newtonslawoffuck @isharemydeathdaywithfeanor @i-know-i-can @imperial-martian @fangirling-central @dannighost @ateliefloresdaprimavera @justahappylilblog @fanfic-addict-98 @a-hopeless-fan @and-claudia @nicolemelton @youtxbemusic @reidcult @eirenism @fantasy-of-fiction @iamsuperconfusedallthetime-dead @a-midwinter-night-dream-86 @rycbar-221b @bethanymccauley @fanworrior @gggamingz @nemesis729 @ibeaesthethicc  @yodas-padawan @sabbrriiinnaa @micaiahmoonheart @beautifulfound @moondustmemories @ct-salad @teenwaywardasgardian @bj-is-a-graduateof-julliard @ruebx @katierpblogg @speedypartyducksuitcase @fangirling-central @idkkbaleighh @ballerinafairyprincess @spn-pogues @gryffin-claw @elegantbutedgy @1elysium @sierraisnotreal @ssanjuniperoo @collectivefandom 

[cardentist]

this isn’t a proper discourse post, I Agree with a lot of what the op said but there’s specific things about it that get under my skin in a way that makes me want to talk about it, but I don’t want to engage with that post both because I don’t want to speak over the point that’s being made and frankly because I don’t want to be misinterpreted because of the point that’s being made in it.

so for context, I’ll just say that it was a long post about how a lack of engagement with women characters in fandom spaces is tied to misogyny. just be aware that I’m responding to something specific and not criticisms of this in general. (feel free to dm me if you want to see the post for yourself)

the rest of this is going to be rambly and a bit unfocused, so I want to get this out the door right at the top: it is not actually someone’s moral obligation to engage with or create fan content. all other points aside, what this amounts to is labeling people as bigoted for either not creating or engaging with content that you want to see, and while the individual may or may not be a bigot it’s not actually anyone’s job to tailor their fandom experience to cater to you. 

fandom is not activism. it’s not Wrong to point out that a lack of content about women in fandom is likely indicative of the influence of our misogynistic society. and suggesting that people examine their internalized biases isn’t just fine, it’s something that everyone should be doing all the time. but saying that it is literally someone’s “responsibility” to “make an effort” by consuming content about women or they’re bigoted is presenting the consumption of fan content as a moral litmus test that you pass and fail not by how you engage with content but by not engaging with all of the Correct content. 

judging people’s morality based on what characters they read meta for or look at fanart for is, a mistake. it Can Be Indicative of internalized biases but it is not, in and of itself, a moral failing that has to be corrected.

if you want more content to be created about women in fandom then you do it by spreading content about women in fandom, not by guilting people into engaging with it by saying that they’re bigots if they don’t. you encourage creation Through creation.

okay, now to address what Mainly set me off to inspire this post.

this post specifically went out of it’s way to present misogyny as the only answer for why this problem exists in fandom spaces. and while I absolutely agree that it’s a Factor, they left absolutely no room for nuance which included debunking “common excuses.” which, as you can probably guess, contained the things that ticked me off.

first off, you can’t judge that someone is disconnected from women in general based on their fandom consumption because the sum total of their being is not available on tumblr. 

people don’t always bear their souls in fandom spaces. just because they don’t actively post about a character or Characters doesn’t mean that they see them as lesser or that they don’t think about them. the idea that you can tell what a person’s moral beliefs are not based on what they’ve said or done but based on whether they engage with specific characters in a specific way in a specific space can Only work on the assumption that they engage with that space in a way that expresses the entirety of who they are or even their engagement with that specific media.

what I engage with on ao3 is different from what I engage with on tumblr, youtube, twitter, my friend’s dms, and my own head. people are going to engage with social media and fandom spaces specifically differently for different reasons. you can’t assume what the other parts of their lives look like based on this alone. 

second off, there can be other factors at play that influence people’s specific engagement with a fandom.

they specifically brought up the magnus archives as an example of a show with well written women. which while absolutely true, does Not mean that misogyny is the only option for why people wouldn’t engage with content about them as often. for me personally? a lot of fan content is soured because of how it presents jon. I relate to him very heavily as a neurodivergent and traumatized person, and he faces a Lot of victim blaming and dehumanization in the writing. sasha and martin are more or less the only main characters that Aren’t guilty of this, and sasha was out of the picture after season 1.

while this affects my enjoyment of fan content for these characters To Some Extent on it’s own (I love georgie, I love her a lot, but I can’t forget that she looked at someone and told them that they were better off dead because they couldn’t “choose” to not be abused), the bigger issue is fan content that Specifically doesn’t address the victim blaming and ableism as what it is, even presenting it as just Correct. 

this isn’t exclusive to the women in the show by any means, this is exactly why I avoid a lot of content about tim, but it affects a lot of the women who are main characters. that isn’t the Only reason, there’s more casual ableism and things that tear him down for other reasons (the prevalent theory that elias passed up on sasha because he’s afraid of how she’s More Competent In Jon In Every Single way. which comes with the unfortunate implications of jon being responsible for his own trauma because he just wasn’t competent enough to avoid it) but that’s the main one that squicks me out.

of course not all fan content does this, and I Do engage with content about these characters, but sometimes it’s easier to just stick with content that centers on my comfort character because it’s more likely to look at his character with the nuance required to see that it is victim blaming and ableism. 

it’s not enough to say that the characters are well rounded or well written and conclude that if someone isn’t consuming or creating content about them then it has to be due to misogyny and nothing else.

there’s also just like, the Obvious answer. two most prominent characters are two men that are in a canonical gay relationship, which draws in queer men/masc people on it’s own but the centering of their othering and trauma Particularly draws in traumatized queer people that are starved for content. georgie and melanie are both fleshed out characters in and of themselves, but their relationship with each other doesn’t have nearly as much direct screen time. and daisy and basira have a lot more screen time together and about each other, but their relationship is very intentionally non-canon because of its role as a commentary on cop pack mentality.

people are More Likely to create content for the more prominent relationship in the show and be drawn into the fandom through that relationship in the first place. I have no doubt that there Are misogynistic fans of the show, but focusing on the relationship and the characters that make you happy isn’t and indication that you’re one of them.

which brings us to the big one, the one that sparked me into writing this in the first place (and the last that I have time for if I’m being honest). the “common excuses” section in general is, extremely dismissive obviously but there’s only one section that genuinely upsets me. 

without copying and pasting what they said directly, it essentially boils down to this: while they recognize that gay and trans men are “allowed” to relate to men, they’re still Men which makes them misogynistic. Rather than acknowledge Why gay and trans men would engage with fan-content specifically that caters to them they present it as a given that it’s 100% due to misogyny anyways. they present queer men engaging with content about themselves as them treating women like they’re “unworthy of attention,” calling it a “patriarchal tendency” that they have to unlearn.

being gay and trans does not mean that you’re immune to misogyny, being a woman doesn’t even mean that you’re immune to misogyny, but that’s engaging in bad faith in a way that really puts a bad taste in my mouth. 

queer men aren’t just like, Special Men that have Extra Bonus Reasons to be relate to boys, they’re people who are more likely to Need fandom spaces to explore facets of themselves. and while you can Relate to any character, it feels good to be able to explore those aspect with characters that resemble you or how you see yourself.

when I first started actively seeking out fandom spaces in middle school I engaged with content about queer men more or less exclusively. at this point I had no concept of what trans people were, and wouldn’t begin openly considering that I might be a trans person until high school. I knew that I’d be happier as a gay man before I knew I could be a gay man, and that’s affected my relationship with fandom forever. 

I engage with most things pretty casually, reblogging meta and joke posts when I see them, but what I go out of my way to engage with is largely an expression of my gender identity and sexuality. I project myself onto a comfort character and then I Consume content for them because that was how I was able to express myself before I knew that I needed to. it’s not that girl characters aren’t “worthy” of me relating to them, it’s that I specifically go to certain fandom spaces to express and work through my gender and sexuality. that’s what I use those fandom spaces For.

I imagine that I’ll need this crutch less when I’m allowed to transition and if I ever find a relationship situation that works out for me. but also like, why should I? it’s not actually hurting anyone for me to explore my gender and sexuality through fanfic until the end of time. nor does it hurt anyone for me to focus on my comfort characters. 

fandom is personal comfort and entertainment, not a moral obligation. people absolutely should engage with women in media and real life with more nuance and energy than they do, but fandom spaces are not the place to police or judge that. 

[wordupcomics]

I know it can be a tricky or a touchy subject but ... How was Becky and Tobey's reaction when they found out what Theo wanted to be? I mean his transition from him and how he decided. Your story is wonderful! Uwu

When Theo came out, Becky and Tobey kinda just went "Oh, well okay" in a loving voice. They didn't know how to react but they wanted to make sure they did it in the most positive and supportive way possible. Naturally these two would immediately do research on the subject and do whatever they could to make their child feel comfortable with himself. And since it's Tobey and Becky, you know they obviously went searching for children's books about being trans that they could read to him. Prior to Theo coming out they both thought the idea of tranphobia was ridiculous, but after Theo came out any form of transphobia would hit them much harder and they will verbally and brutally tear transphobes apart.

Issues with Theo's transition came really just from his name. He went through an excruciatingly long phase where he was using a different name every day, "trying it out." This was cute at first but after a while became something of "is he ever going to choose a name??" In this time, Becky and Tobey relied on pet names to address him. Becky had always called not-yet-named-Theo "baby" because he was her first baby, and he didn't have any issues with the name so she called him that all the time until he picked out his name. Tobey developed the pet name "lad" for him, thinking it was a good way to show his support since it's a word used for males.

One day, during this fun little phase of finding the perfect name, Becky and Tobey invited Tj and Johnson over for dinner (no reason, just like casually getting together, remember how people used to do that?) and not-yet-named-Theo started asking his Uncle Tj questions about his name. TJ explained that "Tj" stood for "Tim Jr." because he was named after his dad, Tim. Not-yet-named-Theo thought this was really cool and Tj merely shrugged it off and pointed out that Tobey's full name was the same situation. Tobey, with all his father issues, was not happy Tj had pointed this out to his son, who was now bombarding him with questions about his full name. Tobey with his relationship, or lack-there-of, with his father, wasn't particularly fond of his own name. So you can imagine Tobey's internal panic when the next day his son announced he wanted the name too. Tobey immediately told his son no, and Becky had to pull Tobey aside and tell him he couldn't just tell their son he couldn't use the name and not give him a reason. Tobey decided she was right and decided to have a talk with their son.

This next part is the reason I want Theo's coming out to be as young as reasonably possible (I currently don't have a decided age). For this part to work, I need Theo to be younger and have Tobey see him as innocent as possible. What happens next is Tobey tries to explain why he doesn't like is own name and why he doesn't want him to have it, and to do this he has to explain his relationship with his own father, and Tobey looks at his sweet little boy and just can't do it. I thought I'd done a post about Tobey's relationship with his father but I can't find it (I won't lie though, I put very little effort into finding it) but regardless I think Becky calling Tobey out in Return to Fair City for projecting his abandonment issues onto the situation with Bob should be pretty clear. Now I'm not gonna say a parent walking out on a child isn't f***ing terrible, but I can't see Tobey struggling to explain this to Theo after a certain age, I feel like in order for Tobey to just not be able to tell his son this, he'd have to be fairly young, young enough that either Tobey doesn't want to ruin his innocence or is unsure that he'll fully understand that such a situation is even possible or perhaps worried Theo will then think it's a possibility that Tobey could do the same thing. Certainly by Theo's current age in Word Up I think Tobey would be willing to be very honest with him about what happened (fun fact, while Tobey is willing to share this with Theo, Theo doesn't actually know this about his dad, it simply hasn't come up). Anyway, Tobey can't bring himself to explain what happened, so he tries some other tactics, saying the name is dull, wouldn't he like a cooler name? His son responds that he really wants to have the same name as his dad. And Tobey is just thinking "&@$% how am I supposed to argue with that" and deep down Tobey can't deny that the name "Theo" is actually a good sounding fit for his son.

So Tobey caves, but with some stipulations. And I went way too far with this and Theo ended up with a stupidly long name and I'm sorry. First condition was that Theo couldn't be Theodore McCallister IV, if his son was going to have that name Tobey wanted him to be a brand new line of Theodore McCallisters. Next he still wanted him to have the "Botsford-McCallister" last name. Third he needed to have another middle name to really break up the name. I mentioned this in a previous post that the added middle name was "Bob" which had been the middle name in Theo's dead name that Tobey encouraged him to keep. So the full name for Theo is * cringes * Theodore Tobias Bob Botsford-McCallister" (originally "Tobias" wasn't part of Theo's name but I realized that was stupid if the reason was so Theo could be named after his dad? Like why cut out the name his dad actually uses???) So to make it sound less horrible it's usually written "Theodore T.B. Botsford-McCallister" because that's slightly less annoying...right?

As I said, before Theo named himself Theo, Tobey hated his full name because he associated it with dad. But now that it’s also Theo’s name, Tobey has no issues with his own name. Now it’s name he shares with his amazing son.

Theo has come out to Julie and their cousin Emma, pretty much everyone else in his life watched him grow up and was there while he was transitioning. In the next batch of comics for Return to Fair City, Becky will be in the middle of showing Bob old photos of Theo and Julie. Theo has a rule that his family can show pictures of him ore-transition but only if A. he's out to whoever they're showing pictures to B. the pictures don't reveal his dead name (so say if the dead name was written on a birthday cake, Theo would only let that picture be shown if the name on the cake was covered). So since Theo is currently not out to Bob, Becky is not showing Bob any pictures of Theo before then, and while not shown, Becky does basically say to Bob "I can't show you younger pictures of Theo because he asks that you know something about him first, and he would have to be the one to tell you." And given the cold shoulder Bob has gotten from both Theo and Tobey, Bob is currently not convinced he's ever gonna see those pictures. I do have an idea of when Theo would come out to Bob, at this exact moment I'm not sure of my confidence to write it when the time comes, but if anyone is able to give me some advice and it's something people want (which I figure it probably is) I'd be willing to give it a shot!

[vesperlionheart]

The Drowned - KisaSaku

What was the point in being supernaturally blessed with a god’s favor if you were only going to be supernaturally feared by mortals for it? 

“Again!”

Sakura shut her eyes in time to protect them from the sting of saltwater as her head was shoved down beneath the churning surface of a basin filled with ocean. She struggled a little, only because his hand in her hair was irritating, but gave up as another set of hands joined the first.  

She lost track of time under the water, letting go of her breath and breathing in ocean salt like any other fish would before spitting out the excess from the slits in her throat. Above her the world was noisy, she could tell, but the water muted the worst of it. 

Maybe she could play dead for them this time?

She was pulled back too suddenly and sputtered from the transition before she could act drowned. The crowd screamed at her and some even threw stones, but the elder barked at the kids to stay back. Sakura glared dully in his direction, not even remotely concerned for her wellbeing. Zabuza would kill them all if Haku didn’t finish them off first. She just needed to last another day as their spectacle. 

“This is no curse, this is a gift!” the wrinkled elder shouted.

“She’s a demon!”

“A witch!”

The elder waved his hands again and the circle of folks surrounding Sakura retreated until only he stood before her, eyes wide with greed. “No, she is a gift for us. It’s been many decades since we’ve had anyone willing to wed the lord of our waves, but here she is.”

“What?” Sakura coughed, spitting out the saltwater from behind her teeth. 

The murmur in the crowd was an instant shift as angry cheers and jeers turned to muffled whispers. Sakura had to shake the water out of her ears to hear them. 

“How long has it been?” one woman asked another.

“I can’t remember the last one,” her friend answered. 

“Old man, let me go or you’re all dead in a matter of days,” Sakura threatened. “I have friends coming for me and they’re really demons.”

“You came to us alone, you have no one,” he countered easily, leaning down to grab her face with wrinkled fingers. “No one will miss you.” 

Someone ran ahead screaming about a sacrifice to the Lord of the Waves and the village was dressed with lights and banners to welcome their arrival. Their elder was greeted with joyful praise while no one seemed to want to spit at Sakura anymore.

Instead they took her, bound of course, into the largest home and dressed her in heavy fabric the color of seafoam. Sakura struggled against the ladies when they stripped her naked, but against her will she was slipped into the wedding gown and sewn in. 

The chest they had pulled the dress from smelled like dust and a frankincense, a sign of its age before Sakura ever noticed the outdated straps and bodice beadwork. It was a relic but it was also a treasure. If the situation had been any different she would have marveled at the figure she struck in her white foam gown, but it was weighted to sink her with layer after layer under the skirt and she had people who would miss her. 

“Beautiful,” one of the girls dressing her whispered to her twin. 

“You’re going to kill me,” Sakura growled back. “That makes you murderers.” 

“Nonsense, you can’t drown so what else are you good for?” The elder was beside her, watching as the ladies sewed ropes of pearls into her hair. “There is no one to speak for you so you are the village’s.”

“You’re all a bunch of old fashioned, outdated, backwater, inbreeds,” Sakura snarled. “I am my own person and I speak for myself. You kill me, and you’ll have hell to pay.” 

But the elder only laughed, the way a parent would laugh at their child saying silly things that were too impossible to be considered. “You’re only a woman, there are always more of you. No one will miss one that doesn’t even have a surname.”

Sakura bit back her snarl and settled into her bindings, content to wait until they sank to to try and make her escape. She won’t drown no matter where they sank her, and Zabuza wouldn’t let her stay lost forever. It had been weeks since they parted, but he was supposed to be right behind her once Haku healed up. The three of them-

Sakura’s thoughts were cut off with a curse as her eyes were bound with white fabric, rendering her blind. Someone turned her over and she fell onto something wooden that was lifted into the air and carried. A rough palanquin, no doubt. 

There were voices chanting, singing, laughing as the palanquin was carried up and out of the village, further along the roads until she was sure they had covered a league on foot. She could hear the ocean waves and smell the brine as it choked the air she inhaled. 

The palanquin came to a stop and she was pulled off it, still bound around her wrists. Someone took the cloth off her eyes and she saw the black glass rocks from a long dead volcano that had once birthed much of the island. The crashing of waves drew her gaze down to the rocks below. 

Drowning became the least of her worries.

“You’ll spear me to death here?” she hissed, suddenly afraid. 

“Only if the lord finds you lacking.”

Sakura pulled against the bindings and strained, digging her heels into the soil and struggling wilder. The men who had carried her on the palanquin took her arms to try and force her still but she screamed and cursed them with every foul title she could imagine. She promised them a death ten times worse than hers and they only chuckled, like she was nothing more than a lame chicken squawking at their heels. 

Sakura pulled, gaining a step back before they pulled her two steps forward. She strained and dug in against the men twice her size. Overhead the moon was rising but it wasn’t full enough for her to drink from, and it made her cry as she struggled more wildly. 

Damn moon, damn curse, damn superstitions, damn droughts… 

There was only a spindle thin crescent in the sky to complement the scattering of stars that stood out in all their pretty patterns. Sakura know more of their forms and stories, but so far south she was sure there were new stories and new shapes the people saw when they looked up at the same sky. 

Damn every last one of them. 

“She’s got quite a mouth on her,” one of the men laughed, sounding winded as he pressed one of her arms to her side. 

“I’m sure plenty of men think that’s attractive,” the elder joked, waving to the cliff edge. “Still, she’s pretty enough for even a monster to want.” 

“Or eat,” a different man laughed. 

Sakura screamed and that only antagonized their delight. 

Someone started to sing and there was even a drum that kept the beat steady for the woman’s voice to follow. Sakura screamed over the sound and they stuffed her mouth full of the fabric that had once bound her eyes. When she kicked they grabbed at her ankles and lifted her like laundry that needed to be folded. She felt her heart drop as they swung her from her wrists and ankles.

The singing pitched and then caught on a single, long, drawn out note.

Sakura was tossed over the edge and fell, head over heels, into the black waters below. 

Kisame heard the singing and saw the lights dropped into his favorite bay. Nothing more than casual interest drew him closer as he waited to see what sort of useless treasure the humans would toss into his waters. Sometimes it was a sheep, or a pig, and he enjoyed those enough to send them still waters or their drowned husbands back, but it had been several years since his last sacrifice. 

When the large body broke the surface and sank through a curtain of bubbles he expected a small deer, or maybe a large goat. 

The bubbles parted and her hands broke apart, freeing her from her white rope bindings even as she sank under the weight of her wedding gown.

Oh, it had been many years since the last one sank for him. 

Kisame grimaced as he held back to watch her decent. The dress had been weighted with too many layers and he could tell she had been sewn in. She’d never free herself in time.

He drew closer but kept himself hidden behind the black stone rocks that sometimes pierced through the waves. He saw her face more clearly and pouted at the waste. What was it with humans and sending their most beautiful to their deaths? 

She was a stunning example of the lesser species, with a slender neck and wrists just as thin. Her hair was a halo of pink coral around her face, floating more freely as she settled on the ocean floor and gasped. She kept her eyes shut but he imagined they were just as striking as the rest of her. 

What a shame. 

Kisame almost turned away but decided he would watch her expire before tossing her body back onto the land to be buried somewhere else, someplace where the people weren't such fools. 

Well, they had paid their tribute, so he supposed he owed them their rain. Once she was finished drowning he’d get on that.

Whenever she was done dying.

…

She seemed to have quite a set of lungs on her, Kisama realized when her thrashing continued many minutes later. She looked more tired than drowned and he wondered how that could be. He dared drawing closer and hid when her head turned in his direction. It made his twin hearts thrill in his chest. 

Her eyes were the brightest green he had ever seen and just as pretty as the rest of her. 

Oh!

She turned back to try and pull her dress apart but it was all whalebone and heavy stitching, more than her nails were a match for. 

When she screamed in frustration he saw the slit under her chin and the ones on her throat. She had been cursed or blessed with the ability to breath as well as any of his kind underwater, in spite of her legs. 

His awe outweighed his fear as Kisame swam out from behind the rocks and surged across the short distance. She noticed him and startled, trying to swim back, even though her heavy dress kept her in place. 

“Can you talk underwater too?” he asked, speaking without bubbles. 

“Fuck you!” she hissed, disturbing the waters with her cursing. 

Kisame laughed and braced one hand over his chest, afraid of how hard his hearts were beating at the sight of her. She was by far the most beautiful his ugly eyes had ever beheld and the singing from before meant she had been drowned for him. 

“I’m Kisame, you might not have heard my name from them but-”

“I’m not your damn sacrifice, fish face,” she snarled. 

Kisame nibbled on the edge of his bottom lip, hiding his smile as best he could. “I’m sure, I’m sure. What’d they tell ya, princess?” 

“That they’re too stupid to do anything more than breed and piss in their own pants, what do you think?” she snapped, eyes flashing with thin, weak magic.

“You’re hilarious,” he chuckled with pure mirth making his voice rumble. “Want me to help you get out of here?” 

She stopped struggling. “Get me out of this...dress?”

“Nah, then you’d run off on me. I meant this place. I have a palace not far from here where my servants can tend to you and get ya fed. You look thin enough to snap in half, princess.” 

“I’m no princess and I’m not going with you.”

“Why not? You got somewhere else to be?”

“Yeah, back on land.”

Kisame hummed playfully. “Not a good idea. I don’t get many visitors and even fewer guests who are this entertaining.” 

He reached for her face and traced the side of her cheek with his rough fingertips before pulling his hand back and kicking at the water between them to raise himself up and show off the powerful whale shark body that made up his lower half. With a rush of magic he kicked and the tail became legs, tapered into fins at the end, before melting back into a mer tail. 

“You’re a-what the fuck are you?” 

“You can call me Kisame, babe, and I’m whatever the hell you want me to be.”

“I want to be out of this dress.”

He reached for her and pulled her to his body with powerful arms crossed behind her lower back. She sputtered and braced with hands on his chest where she could no doubt feel the way his two heart fluttered for her. The feel of her made him want to vibrate right out of his skin. 

“Not yet, but give me a night and I’ll gladly help you shed your layers, wife.” 

“I’m not-mph”

He kissed her gills and it made her stuttered incoherently. It was where he was the most sensitive, so he was willing to bet she wasn’t much different. 

“I’m-ah, ahhh, mm-mah,” she gasped when he tilted his face to reach the rest of her gills and kiss those too, one hand straying to the curve of her backside to cup her through her dress. 

He could feel her legs, caught under so many layers of fabric, twitch and reach to clamp down on his hips, keeping him close. Anytime she opened her mouth to object he kissed her again until she was nothing but moans. 

“What was that princess?” he teased in a timber of pure mirth to match his saucy expression. She was flushed for him and trembling for his touch. 

“I-ah, I...I mean...a detour wouldn’t...be…” she swallowed and ducked her face to get her thoughts better controlled before trying again. “I wouldn't be opposed to a detour.” 

“I was hoping you’d say that, princess,” he cheered. “You can leave whenever you want after we get to know each other a little better, what ya think about that?” 

“Depends on if you can do something with this,” she huffed, rubbing against the bulge between this thighs that tented his scales. “I’ve got time.” 

“I was hoping you’d say that. Got a name, princess, or should I just call ya mine?”

“Sakura.”  

He traced her gill with a rough finger, making her twitch. “Great, now I know what to scream.”

 -

So hey your gorgeous writing plus these Paulo Sebastian dresses are a match made in heaven. Could you do the very last one of Siren of the Seas with kisasaku?

[lunar-rose-academy]

How 2 RP - Part 1.5 (A little extra)

Hey everyone! Masao here~ Welcome to part 1.5, a little extra for you all, where i interview a experienced RPer, who shares their story, and give their own tips for RP. I thought it would be nice to hear from someone that has more experience then i do.

Today, we talk with:

@captainkurosolaire

​​A very good friend of mine who was actually one of my very first RP friends back in the days of Heavensward. Kuro was one of the first groups i joined, called Goldbrand. A pirate group that mostly focused on hunting Relics and the like. I learned a lot about RP from him, and made me really enjoy writing stories. He is also a very awesome dude and very humble. I hope our little interview helps you get motivated to RP, and to set that first step into the fantastic world of FFXIV!

My first question for Kuro was:

When you started RP, how did you start? Did you have a lot of help? Kuro: I started 6 years ago in XIV RP. I've been LARPing, I've built my own scuffed tabletop game with me and a bud, I've done WoW RP (Didn't click with me due to bad introduction to it.) As an only child, I've always had nothing but the highest of imagination's and I've always been tethered to create and build.I had tons of help. I wouldn't be here in the community without one of my ex's who drove me into it. I was a cuck. They shaped me and saw that, I was passionately nerdy about this stuff and always directed me towards this but, I was a shy bean and in a cocoon thought I’d fail or be a burden. After they parted with me for being naive and needing to harden me with heartbreak, I took a gamble for myself. Leaped in after a person named Sei took me in, I created Captain off just his glamour alone and then built off the tiny sketches with what I had in solo and overtime.Started from Gilgamesh, then went to Balmung. This was the era when Quicksands a majority of the time was filled with ERP and anything on the outskirts, were the more serious players and you had to go looking. I made a character fit and based around Quicksands and centered around the atmosphere. It felt fitting. So I went brash from being the most introvert by playing the most opposite to me. To not only challenge myself, but to force me to learn more. This overall was more productive of aiding in my conquest for building my Tabletop game, at first, it was mainly for that...Then eventually as my reputation was mainly ERP but somehow my F-list had some actual character-depth, I expanded and branched off. I was told by my Kahn'a my practical Yoshi P and lore guide. Some helpful hints and after that they practically set me up for transitioning out of just being a smut writer, even though I had a story behind each thing, I wanted to transition out. Then I met Verrine, Mishi, Thorcatte, Sun’ra, These people really put the ground-works into my story alongside Kahn'a, everywhere I turned, every person I met, they were inspirations, they were aiding me in RPing and feeling like this is my home, this is the land of the nerds and I owe them everything for letting me find this haven.Eventually another friend told me basically, why not just DM(Dungeon Master). Since I had contacts, I had the RP and creativity for it. They pointed me in that direction. Wasn't until I met my longest and really huge gratitude of an RPer in Ayla, who eventually inspired and led me into not only you. But bringing in many others who I eventually found as crew.I owe a tremendous amount to Ayla... Without a shadow of a doubt. Kahn'a too, but I could say literally, I owe everyone, four-hundred people in my head right now. From I've ever contacted or came into RP or even plotted none of their experiences have ever gone to waste. They each gave me a presence of passion. I transitioned off; led a huge DM group that was mainly done because you reached back out after I hit a downward spiral. After I left everything behind and ruined nearly all of it and lost my mojo.You rose me back like the phoenix, I eventually created a plot so massive that I could DM for like thirty individual people with the right support and people, did I fail in being a community leader or dealing with drama and involving everyone with my health and limited energy? You're damn straight. -- I failed utterly horrendously!  However -- It wasn't entirety wasn't in vain, people found their little groups and pockets in that, they met their meshes. Which objectively, that's all that matters as someone who organizes those to bring people together and in.After that... I transitioned into Tumblr more after being encouraged by people like Fair-Fae from afar, to Sei. Then worked on drumming to the beats given. To every person, even the ones that are angry emoji in the background-- I love em' their passion rubs into me and it breathes of air, gives me wings better than red-bull advertises! As someone who's dealing with an inoperable and bed-ridden rare disease, I've never been or felt more alive.I owe so much to people, and it's why I've stuck around for six years now and continue to batter up against the foul. This is why, I want to raise, boost, encourage, and rally others to be shared so they find in match-making their RP partners, and despite... I know my writing style hasn't ever been everyone's flavor, I never have ever thought of ever wanting someone not to find happiness. I couldn't give up RP at this stage. My next question would be, If you could give a tip to someone who just wanted to start to get into RP, what would you say to them? Kuro:  Know this. Getting into RP is a joke. It's really easy, you possess already every tool to be a tremendous RPer! Much better than I and I ever will be.

Short version: Just communicate. RP It's merely a Dance that can be positively enchanting, magical! -- I don't care what anyone says. ~ It's a partnership, you've got to find the people who keep up with pace and momentum, or blend with your style. You won't always find that and it's not a bad thing if that can't work. Some characters don't connect, some are opposite but they can still work. That's because it requires, one additional thing that requires: a pillar of effort. Don't let yourself be overwhelmed. Looking from the outside this game I've heard and seen, It's intimidatingly daunting. It's a lot to get into. Though this game? It's unoriginal. There isn't anything you can't create in this game, you have science, you've got alchemy, you've got magic. This game is literally called Fantasy in the title, this game has yanked and pulled off all the foundations of RL concepts, other fantasy tropes, religions, and renamed them and splashes over paint. You can do the same... Anything can be explained, I don't care what it is. People are fundamentally not grown as the exact same, I'm not personally here to be a clone trooper. Now If I want to play that, I can even do that respectively.* Look around the game visually, see if you think it can be done with the setting and place, build yourself something anything, you've got a whole box of legos don’t step on them. It’s proven constantly your creativity can be endless the more you play over time, or invest, put yourself out there. Go look into some guides, pull from a book, or google anything you’re thinking about. Again: People have styles they're different. You may appeal to being an NPC, you may like to be extended into Lore, you may not like all the fantasy, that's more than reasonable, it's all valid... There are people that feel you, they're waiting for YOU. Then you'll find people who are open-minded, you'll find people like me, I was in RP's with aliens, voidsents, normal people, WoL, like I've witnessed a lot. Listen to them, let them explain, and most often they fit. If you're too close-minded to accept then you don't need to worry you’ve already decided they’re not you, or your taste, leave them to their devices let them have their happiness, and go back to the scour. Don’t try harassing or bothering something that’s not there or ever will work. Wastes time and misery and drama isn’t worth unless it’s within stories, trust me. See for me... I’ve seen it all. People saying aetherfeeders and vampires didn't exist they cried on the forums and held a tantrum you had people say for years -- then boom RDM storyline and Stormblood came out debunked. Submarines weren’t things prior to SB despite we’ve got Garlean’s over here casually making Gundam’s. Their careers are over they played themselves -- this game is still continuing and always will if you're waiting for official confirmation from a -book- then you're going to be miserable, you're living off the backbone of a book meant to 'guide' and be resourceful in extension not to weaponize it and be a prick to people who don’t follow strictly the same ethic as you’ve so randomly chosen for yourself in standards, I hate to burst bubbles, but you’re never going to be 100% accurate, never ever. You didn’t create this game -- or it, therefore you can’t be anything but a replicator you’re just stuck either limiting your pieces or taking from an entire tub of building material. You aren't playing the book, you're playing the game. That's the real cannon, you literally visually see everything that's going to happen, you can bend it with predictions and logistical math. See XIV, they bend-over concepts of the real and made them fit or pried. I don't just bend lore… I bend it over. Why would there ever be anything that cannot be created? It's just how you interpret it, there are lazy ways to explain things, then there are thorough and detailed methods to get to the same realization of what you want to create that'll work and fit like puzzles to slots this story could’ve foretold. If done correctly more often then not XIV will follow suit in the same thing an expansion later if you stick to your wings, I’ve done it numerous times it feels like XIV has followed copied my test and then tried not to make it look obvious its because stories we’ve brazenly written together in deep-thinking. When my character is tagged IC that's it. Everything he witnesses or sees, I'm not refuting it. That's my chosen though, I see Quicksands and there's no way that place on my Balmung Shard and experiences is it clean, is it lead properly, or the official’s high representatives who totally are just fine with letting a Voidsent blow up the city-state. My character witnessed that, it’s set in stone. Though that's the option and you should always find what makes you comfortable, who makes you comfortable and consider that above all else. Often or not, everyone uses RP as an escape just as they play games. Don't sacrifice, don't lose yourself or not give self-love for what makes you passionate, don’t neglect yourself in taking control of being empowered and attaining friendships, fun, or treating yourself to something new to possibly take something lovely out of finding RP can be and make it all positive for yourself. Myself? I’m inspired by every person new and old who’s been in this game. I love it, do I bleed for it as my canvas? By the Twelve you know it! I’m only ever going to write stories and continue to build and grow, to learn. To do anything to give back. When a passion gives you life, you show that thankfulness by blazing that flame. My last question would be: Is there anything else you wanted to add or say to people? Kuro:  Nope. Rest boils to the decisions you pave yourself and if you want to take the plunge. Just know you're worthy, valid, and this place isn't and never will be one batch or selective, It’s not too late ever there’s no expiration to get into RP, there’s a reason RP last longer than the lifespan of the game’s even when they’ve hit the lowest of lows in dry content, there’s always been unity. If there's one thing this community does well it’s looking after one another.And If they fail to deliver. I know there are people like me who'd rather raise up then pound down.You got this, champs. And that was my interview with Kuro. Looking at his answers, there is a lot that i can agree with. The community of FFXIV is a very great one. If one person is down or needs help, the FFXIV community is the first one to jump up and help with what they can. Hence, its why i made this! To help you, reading this. Just remember, that there are always people out there that are willing to help you. And a person such as Kuro, and of course, myself, will do whatever we can to help those in need. Thank you all so much for the support, and i hope you all have a good day. Also! If you are a RPer, and you would like to be interviewed too, let me know! Send me a message over here on Tumblr, or add me on discord: Masao#2913. And feel free to ask anything related to RP, or even FFXIV. Hope you all are looking forward to the next one~

[danetobelieve]

Like The First Time || Bea and Winston

When: the day after Bea’s brought back Who: @beatrice-blaze​ & @danetobelieve​ Where: Bea’s hospital room.  Summary: Winston and Bea finally talk about everything they should have talked about before Bea’s death. Warnings: death discussion is the worst of it I think

Slipping into Bea’s hospital room, Winston closed the door most of the way behind them, making sure that the nurse on duty was sidetracked by someone else. They glanced at Bea, and made the shh gesture, finger to their lips. They weren’t nervous. They could never be nervous around her. She’d always been a figure of comfort and safety and even when Winston had been a nervous, awkward teenager with a crush (not that they really felt any differently), Winston had still known that Bea had their back. It wasn’t that she didn’t now, but … after everything that had happened it felt as if an unspoken distance had developed between the two of them. “Hey, sorry, I know we’re meant to be resting but I just wanted to check in…” Shifting their position slightly, Winston bit their lip and adjusted their glasses. “How are you feeling?” they finally asked, swallowing before leaning forward carefully to listen. “How much do you remember?” They immediately regretted the question. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that, I just, I can’t believe you’re back and we did it…” Did these hospital robes have to be so hot? Winston felt like they couldn’t breathe wearing them.  

With her sisters off for tests or treatment, Bea had the feeling of crushing loneliness again. She didn’t know much about her time as a ghost, but she knew that it hadn’t been full of people. Isolation clawed at her throat and she considered ignoring the nurses instruction to stay put while they found someone to tend to her feet. She wanted to get up and run, leaving the empty room behind her. It was a blessing to see Winston slip into the room, tension from her shoulders began to melt away. “It’s okay, Winston,” She assured gently. “I’ve never been this tired.” She had been falling asleep on and off while her sisters were in the room, but it was impossible to rest with them away from her. She considered them for a long moment,“I don’t remember much as a ghost. The last solid memory I have from before is dying.” She shifted on her cot and patted the spot next to her. “Come here. You did it and I will never be able to thank you all enough. How are you after everything? I didn’t even know you could do magic, Winston… When did that happen?”

Swallowing, Winston realised in that moment that Bea had never seen them do magic before. They’d never discussed it. Honestly, they’d been trying to save the revelation that they could do magic for something truly spectacular. A secret part of them had wanted to impress her with everything that they could do. To show her that although they weren’t the magician that Bea was, they were at least learning. “I can only imagine,” Winston yawned as if on queue, “I still feel like I’m full of adrenaline but at the same time my bones feel like they’re encased in lead. How it must be for you I can’t imagine.” Slipping across the room, Winston sat gently next to Bea. She smelled amazing. Swallowing, Winston felt the heart flutter a little and quelled the nervous butterflies in their stomach. “You don’t have to thank me, I know that you’d have done the exact same for me if you thought that was what I wanted and when Nell and Luce told me …” a single tear rolled down their cheek and they hotly wiped it away, “it was the right thing to do.” They looked at her and swallowed. “Uh, just after the New Year, a hellhound attacked me and I guess it unlocked my magic, since then I’ve been learning a lot. I actually managed to help save the town before we could bring you back.” They tugged at the bandage they were wearing over their hand to hide the third eye. “Wanna see something kind of gross?”

At first, Bea hadn’t even made the connection that Winston was there for the ritual as a spellcaster. After seeing their rather spectacular stunt with fire breathing, she finally connected the dots. She wasn’t usually a person who touched Winston freely, but now she leaned her head against their shoulder. She needed to touch someone. She hadn’t been touched in so long, she knew that. “It being the right thing to do does not make it an easy thing to do,” She told them gently. “And I know more than anyone else the risks and moral sacrifice someone has to make to do that.” She stared at the bed Luce had been in, knowing that in the end the middle Vural had nearly lost her life for Bea. “Just casually saving the town and then me. You’ve been busy, huh?” She looked down at their hand,“I was decaying and covered in the actual blood of my enemy until an hour ago, I don’t mind kind of gross anymore.”

Bea’s head on their shoulder was nice. Really nice. Not in the way that it had been before. It didn’t send their heart racing and sweat beading on their forehead. For the first time, maybe ever, this felt like something a sister might do. Like the times Winston had crept into Jolyne’s room whenever they’d had a nightmare. “No, it wasn’t easy, and it’s something I’ll have to live with for the rest of my life. I don’t regret it, but, I’ve never killed someone before.” Winston wasn’t sure that they had killed someone now. It didn’t matter though. Bea was here and they had no regrets. “I just, so much has happened in the last six months. None of my friends have gotten away from this town without being hurt by something in it and when you died. I couldn’t just sit there and not do something.” Their hand itched and they tentatively unwrapped the bandage to reveal the eye beneath it. There was a relief as the cold air came in contact with the eye and it blinked on their hand a few times as they wiggled their fingers to get the blood flowing in it once more. “Someone had to save the town, I didn’t really do much, that was Nell and Darwin, I just worked out how to fix it but they were the ones that did the actual ritual.” Winston wished they had been able to do more to help. “I got a third eye too.” They showed her their palm.

“You won’t have to kill someone again, at least not for me,” Bea hoped at least. Winston was someone she had never thought would be dragged into something as dark as this. Even knowing now that they’re a caster didn’t make her feel better about their involvement. Being so new to the spellcaster community, this was not an easy transition into the lifestyle. “White Crest has certainly has ramped up recently.” Her life had been so simple in December. She didn’t know who that woman was anymore. She wasn’t sure who she was anymore. Morgan had said that she had to let it sit, but the longer she sat, the longer the silence that filled her mind became insufferable. She had never felt like this before, never felt empty before. She could not even begin to make a plan to get back to where she was before this. She hummed softly,“Would they have been able to do the ritual if you hadn’t helped?” It was habit to attempt to lift those around her up, but the words felt hollow and wrong in her mouth now. She stared down at Winston’s palm, resisting the urge to reach out and poke it. “Does it see?”

“Fingers crossed,” Winston was only partially joking. This was White Crest after all. Apparently cultists, necromancy and demons were lurking in the darker corners of the town. Which apparently suited Winston just fine. A thought that they were still trying to come to terms with. What they really didn’t get was how they could be so okay with all of this? They’d killed someone and it didn’t bother them at all. “I’m glad that people who’ve known about the real White Crest are saying that, because for a while I thought this was just how you always lived your life. I’m pretty sure I’m already getting some gray hairs from the stress.” Winston smirked a little at that. They didn’t hate this. This new life. It wasn’t something they’d give up. It was just different. “No, they wouldn’t have been able to do the ritual at all I guess.” Winston hadn’t thought about it that way before nodding. “Yeah, for a while I had like visions, that was how I … well literally saw the ritual, but after squidward was killed they stopped. I was the last person it switched too and it hasn’t gone anywhere since then so I think it might be here for good.” 

“It’s always been dark and twisty here, but I hadn’t died before, so it’s been worse lately.” Somewhere in the back of Bea’s mind, she found that sentence hilarious. The day before she died she wouldn’t have even thought she would be saying this in the future. “You’d look good with gray hair,” She told them absentmindedly, finger playing with her hospital band. In five weeks she had missed the world nearly ending and her family fighting to keep it together. It filled her with both pride. They’ll be fine with me if it comes to it. The thought came to her before she could stop it, realizing she didn’t have to consider them without her now. She swallowed hard. “Does it bother you? It being there?” If Winston could live with a third eye, she could live with the scar circling her throat.

“That seems to be the understatement of the century,” Winston replied. They couldn’t believe everything that had happened. It was like they were living out the pages of their favourite fiction or something. Fantasy, Science Fiction and Horror had always held a special place for Winston. Somehow this made them all seem a little childish in this light. “Uh, thanks … you too?” Winston was still as awkward as ever apparently, but Bea complimenting you wasn’t something that Winston would just brush to the side. Even though they’d long ago accepted that she was never going to see them the way they saw her, it still mattered. “Yes and no, the eye itself physically being there is risky for anyone who doesn’t know about this stuff maybe finding out…” Winston ran a finger nail over the gap in the eyelid, absently pulling it apart and letting it slip back together with a plip. “But it actually being there I don’t hate and I think … god I think I should keep it because I think it’ll probably give me some sort of insight in the future, maybe. I don’t know.” 

Bea stretched her neck slightly, before settling back down. She found her hand going up to hold her head, even though she was put back together. Everything about her felt wrong at the moment. She didn’t know if she would ever feel right again. She had to hope that she would or this all would have been so much trauma for a half result. She brushed off their awkward attempt to compliment her back. She was used to how they were with her at this point. “You can always see if there’s a glamour you can put over it. Then people won’t see it unless you want them to,” She told them, pressing her own finger against her palm. At least she didn’t have a random eye she had to hide. “Keep it then. No harm in keeping it for now and if you ever want it gone, I can help.” It was the least she could do after everything. She could do this for Winston, if they wanted it.

Raising an eyebrow gently, Winston watched the eye on their hand winking back at them. Or was it blinking? They weren’t sure which would be which when there was only one of them. “That’s a good idea, I’ve never really done anything with glamorous before, do you know a good place to get one? Or how I could make one easily?” Winston would have to look into this in the Scribe library. The more information they could gather the better in their opinion. Nodding gently, Winston made eye contact with Bea and smiled. “Thanks for the offer, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the magic sooner, I didn’t really know how to tell anyone about it to be honest…” Winston laughed gently, “but I’m glad I could help bring you back.” 

Sighing through her nose, Bea watched the eye critically for a moment. Nell was always the person she asked when it came to things like glamours, but this wasn’t the right time. “I’m sure I have a tome or two you can look at for information about them. I usually just assist when it comes to rituals like that.” She wondered now, if she would have to learn more about those types of magics. Her hand went to her neck, tracing the scar there. Did she want people to see that? She couldn’t tell if it was weak or not. She didn’t even know how it looked yet. She hadn’t had the courage to look at herself in the mirror. She met their eye for a second before glancing away, the emotions there too much to bear just then. “It’s okay. I understand. I barely tell people I’m a witch.” She swallowed,“Thank you, again, Winston. For helping me and being there for my sisters.”

Raising an eyebrow gently, Winston chewed on their lip for a moment before nodding. “Sure, I get it, that’s probably a good idea. It’s something I wanna look into though, for sure.” Winston smiled gently. As Bea touched her own neck, Winston found their own hand tracing their scar for a second. Forcing it to fall away they sat their still for a moment. The toll of the resurrection had been intense, maybe one of the more difficult things Winston had ever done. Despite everything that had happened, Winston was pleased that everything was slowly getting back to normal. Sitting their silently, Winston honestly didn’t know what to say. “It’s weird, I can’t imagine not knowing this stuff but I did…” they trailed off and glanced down at her with a kind smile, “Bea, I mean this from the bottom of my heart, you and Luce and Nell might not have been born into my family, but you’re my family, you have been for a long time and you are now more then ever. If you ever need me again. I’ll be there no questions asked.” 

Bea let the silence surround them for a moment. Winston was family. She knew this wholeheartedly, but she struggled to say it out loud. Those words would have made her grin before, eager to hear that someone felt so strongly about her and her family. No such warm feeling filled her. She hummed softly, knowing she would have to say something soon. God, what could she say. There would be nothing quite right in this setting, not when she felt the words bouncing around her hollow insides. “Thank you, Winston. You’re our family too. We’ll be there for you too.” She meant those words, but all the same they tasted wrong as she said them. They could never compare to what she would have said before this. She couldn’t compare to how she was before this. She hoped that those who brought her back weren’t disappointed by the change.

[otp-armada]

So, as of tonight, we're approaching the end. 

It seems as good a time as any for a bit of reflection.

I know what I've wanted to see for Bellarke for the longest time- the established couple route.

I wanted all the admissions of love. I wanted every kind of kiss imaginable. Each type of hug and cuddle. All the intimacy of a long, domestic life. Tackling issues as a couple. Coming home to each other at the end of a hard day's work. Date nights. An engagement. A wedding. Surprise pregnancy announcements. Delinquent hijinks throughout it all. Raising their four kids, watching them grow up. A perfect kind of chaos making up the Griffin-Blake household. Spoiling their sixteen grandkids. A peaceful life that allows for celebrating all their milestones and all their quiet moments, just because they can. Growing old together. 

I have wanted every lovely canon-compliant scenario our talented fanfic writers have dreamt. 

If I lived in a fantasy world where I could have a 24-episode Bellarke epilogue of a complete life filled to the brim with endless love and friendship and family and peace, I would treasure it with my whole damn heart. 

But we don't live in that fantasy world to have such a gift.

In the months since August 4th, I've reconciled my hopes with Jason's measured pacing. And I won't say there isn't value in the route Jason has opted for. I don't want the show to end. But if six seasons of war sound taxing to me, God knows how exhausting it feels for the characters who endured it. As bleak as the show can be, it's never been shrouded exclusively in doom and gloom. There have been bits of light peppered in. I hope for them to achieve a peaceful, fulfilling life. Though Jason may have put them through the wringer, I think he wants the same for them too. Because of what they've had to endure, not in spite of it. Maybe it's my wishful thinking. But I can't bring myself to care. I'm going into the final season with hope, and there's nothing anyone can say to stop me. It is the year 2020. We could use a good dose of hopefulness. 

So it's not that I'm not ready to see the story come to a close.

No, it's that I'm not ready to see Bellarke's love story end, particularly not without the illustrated details above.

But you know, who's to say I won't be satisfied with Jason's ending? With every fictional work lies the risk of a disappointing ending. But this show has made a habit of surprising me, as far back as early season one. 

I started The 100 back in late 2015, early 2016, sitting at my dining room table, casually Netflix surfing on my tablet for something to fill the time until my regular programming came back from hiatus. And I happened to catch a title sparking my memory of a CW tv spot promoting its upcoming third season. With nothing else inspiring interest, I quickly gave in to impulse. 

I may be one of the few viewers drawn in by the pilot episode. I mean, I knew what network I was watching. My entertainment selections at the time usually either revolved around teenage protagonists or appeal to the demographic of a younger audience, so The 100 was right up my alley. I expected- and didn't mind- a fair bit of cheesy campiness. 

I tend to appreciate levelheaded, kindhearted characters, so I immediately liked Clarke, Wells, and Abby. I liked Octavia, the newly-freed, spontaneous, loveable renegade. I liked Jasper and Monty, our young, quirky goofs. And I liked Finn. There. I admit it. A few exchanges with our beloved Ark princess and the epithet of the foolhardy, charming heartthrob slash alleged romantic bad boy hero hoodwinked me. By contrast, I fell into the narrative's trap of initially hating our seeming antagonists- Murphy, Kane, and *cries in shame* Bellamy. I enjoyed the moral quandaries brewing on the Ark among the adults- the struggle between Abby and Kane was of great intrigue to me. It was probably the best storyline of the episode. But when Jasper took a spear to the chest, and I responded with, "WTF?! WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN NOW?!?," I knew this show had reeled me in. No hesitation in letting the next episode play. Not a thought of stopping it there. 

Bellarke's transition, inching from political rivals to partners as their new world becomes increasingly more dangerous, as they recognize they need to rely on each other's strengths is *chef's kiss.* In six seasons, Day Trip remains one of the most masterfully done episodes this show has done, in my humble opinion. Taking the golden princess and the rebel king and peeling back the layers of both characters to expose their muddled greys. The meeting of two previous extremes slashing at each other's weak spots for superiority. Compromise derived from compassion and care. Strength in unity.  I started Day Trip as mostly indifferent to Bellamy and ended it loving him. 

When the characters turn light and dark and back again, throughout this winding story with its twists and turns, I've overturned previous impressions of almost every one many times for better and worse. It only became more prevalent when I began lurking in fandom and reading metas. If nothing else, the narrative has kept me on the edge of my seat, wondering what comes next. 

So, yeah, lots of surprises in this show. Good ones, I think. And I expect, quite a few more in its final season.

The season 7 trailer was spectacular. One of the most eye-opening lines for me, "...the last war mankind will ever wage." Because that's the dream, right? For humanity to learn from its errors and do better. Is violence what they do, or is it who they are? Have they truly learned nothing after all this time? I guess we'll find out. But I'd like to think Jason hasn't taken his characters on this evolution for the moral of the story to be the latter. In all the excitement, I convinced myself to conduct my first series rewatch. I'm not embellishing when I say the instant I saw Clarke in the opening sequence, the nostalgia welled up in my eyes. 

Who would have thought a story of 100 teenagers dropped from the sky into hostile territory would evolve into this? Temporal anomalies? Wormholes? Other worlds spanning the universe? A chance to save Earth before the bombs, possibly? Incredible. Our babies have all grown up, and their stories have come full circle.

84 episodes down. Only 16 episodes to go before the show is off the air forever. I will be metaphorically chewing my nails to the nub for Bellamy and Clarke's fates, but, I don't know about anyone else, I want to enjoy every second we get before its gone.

I won't spiral into a panic each time Echo is in the vicinity of Bellamy. Or Bellarke is temporarily separated like in every previous season. Or Jason breathes or whatever other source that causes mass hysteria in this fandom. I exist on the fringes of this fandom, but I have stood here long enough to have ascertained that it is overpopulated with too many Chicken Littles. I've never been more grateful to not have to deal firsthand on the front lines with the antis. Because if there was ever a time to enjoy the show instead of agonizing over whatever new development fandom considers just cause for panic, that time is now. 

[nascent-chaos]

This is another ask that I wanted to ask but I put it separately, what type of monster would Reed be? and if she got turned into a monster for some reason how would each skeleton react?

I had answered a similar ask in the past, but if Reed were to turn into a monster? Now THAT’S a different story!

Her species would still be more or less the same - a plant-like monster, fairly humanoid in terms of appearance (I’d imagine something not unlike Undyne), but a bit more sensitive to her surroundings. 

Sans :: He and Red are the first to find her, both woken by her panicked shouts for Sans early that morning. Surprisingly, it’s Classic who’s the first to brace for a confrontation when he sees a strange monster standing in the doorway to her bathroom and their human is nowhere to be found; it’s only thanks to Red’s timely intervention that he’s kept from actually attacking the intruder first and asking questions later.

Once the misunderstanding has been cleared up and he’s calmed her down… well, if you thought Sans was overprotective of her before, it’s nothing compared to how he is now. After all, she’s managed to make her fair share of enemies as a human, and that will only get worse now that she’s a monster. Is locking her up in the loft like Rapunzel an option? He’d probably seriously consider it, were it not for the fact that she now seems acutely aware of his anxiety and uncertainties - likely because she’s now able to hear his soul just as easily as he can hear hers. He might not be able to keep her in the house at all times, but he’ll certainly make sure to stick with her if she happens to venture off the mountain.

Papyrus :: She’s barreling down the stairs shouting for his brother when he sees her, and initially mistakes her as an acquaintance of Reed or Red’s, who… happens to sound surprisingly similar to their human? And who even knows him by name?

Wait, what do you mean this is his human?!

… Yeah, they’re both going to tag-team against his brother to find out what the heck he’s gone and done this time.

Papyrus is easily the most attentive to her needs as she tries getting accustomed to her new lifestyle, and is one of the most vocal when it comes to expressing his excitement over this change. He’s fascinated by all, and rightly so, as she’s now experiencing everyday things for the first time that he’d have never otherwise given a second thought to. That tingle of rejuvenating magic they all feel when eating? Her first time feeling that in full force makes her shiver and give a squeak of astonishment that leaves him wanting to sweep her up in adoring cuddles. The first time she’s managed to manifest a bullet? He’s over the moon, showering her in praise that leaves her green-tinged skin glowing red with embarrassment. He and Edge are the one that lead the charge in teaching her everything she needs to know, often to comedic effect, but at the end of the day she’s happier and healthier than ever!

Blue :: He had only just returned from his morning run when he notices an unfamiliar figure striding across the lawns and making a beeline for the workshop. He’s quick to call out to them, and they come to an abrupt halt as he quickly jogs up to them. Before he can say so much as a greeting, though, they’ve all but burst into tears, blubbering something about waking up and feeling funny and please tell her this is only temporary, because she has no idea how she’s going to explain this to Muffet, and… ooh.

Ooh…

It’s safe to say the first person that responds to his irritable rasps on the workshop doors will be in for a good talking-to.

Blue tries to keep things as normal as possible, but his attempts at normalcy tend to go so overboard they usually end up as anything but - what might be a quick jaunt up to the store might turn into an over-the-top game of Secret Agent Reed as they try to procure a jug of milk without her being seen (as she claims rather exasperatedly that she doubts anyone would even recognize her all the while).

Stretch :: It’s still in the early hours of the morning when he and the others are down in the lab tinkering on the machine, still attempting to wrangle the oversized tin can after it’s had another one of its episodes. So, naturally, when there is yet another furious banging to be heard coming from the door, they’re each understandably apprehensive - after all, the last time this happened Dust had appeared on their doorstep.

Only, it’s not Edge or one of the others that greet him when he peers outside, but a monster he’d never seen before - and they’re utterly livid.

“What the fuck did you guys do?!”

… Well. That’s not good.

The rest of the morning is spent juggling a nearly hysterical human(monster?) and trying to stabilize the machine once more. After realizing Reed has spent the entire day pacing about the house anxiously, however, he eventually throws in the towel and settles for taking the remainder of the day to try and calm her down. It proves to be far easier a task than what he faced down in the workshop, at least. 

Stretch proves to be the perfect counter to her worrisome side, easily able to quell her stress and get her to sit still and unwind for a bit. Like Hickory, he takes everything in stride and reminds her that the change doesn’t really mean the end of the world - they’re not gonna just leave her like this, so why not enjoy it a little?

And hey, cuddle time with her has just become even more enjoyable now that she fills any room she enters with the scent of fresh flowers.

Red :: He’s the first to sense something’s wrong, hearing her soul thrumming with barely-contained panic from the floor below late one morning. When his nervous knocks at her door are ignored and his calls to her go unanswered he’s shortcutting into her room to see what’s going on…

Only to find a stranger there instead.

Instinct has his magic flaring in his socket in seconds, but he retains enough sense to notice the similarities in her appearance and the fact that he can feel their dread, can hear their confusion and uncertainty and panic in a way he’s only ever experienced with Reed. When he realizes the face that’s looking up at him now is actually hers, that the voice that says his name with such relief is her own…

“… aww shit.”

He doesn’t stray too far from her side over the next few days and is surprisingly… helpful, casually giving her tips for things she seems oblivious to (‘of course yer gonna be tired, rosebud, ya ain’t been outta the house in two days! last i checked, flowers needed sunlight.’). Of course, this doesn’t mean his flirtatious self has taken any time off. If anything he’s even more likely to try sweeping her off her feet - it seems the knowledge that their connection is open both ways now has freed him from any prior restraints he may have put on himself. Firing sultry comments hidden beneath flowery puns that make her blush becomes the norm and Red makes absolutely no attempt to hide the intentions he knows his soul is singing from her.

Edge :: Drawn by the sound of her shouts echoing down the hallways, she runs into him just as he’s exiting his room - literally runs, barreling into him and sending them both spilling back into his quarters. She’s sputtering frantic, barely-coherent apologies as she’s scrambling to help him up, and it’s then that he realizes something is amiss. The skin of her hands is far too green to be a healthy, human color, transitioning seamlessly with the leaves that encircle her wrists. He’d have suspected it to be some ridiculously accurate costume were it not for the magic he can feel thrumming beneath her skin at her touch.

Looking up, he’s actually rendered speechless at the sight that greets him.

He is not happy about this change whatsoever. Not that it’s anything she can help - he knows full well Reed has had no hand in the strange cards fate has dealt her, but damn if he’s not muttering complaints under his breath every other minute. Any instinctual knowledge that would have typically been expected in a babybones seems to have completely passed her by; she lacks any real control over her magic, barely knows how to do something as simple as CHECK someone, and don’t even get him started on her apparent disregard for her own safety. While she says she knows full well the sort of danger she’d be in if she just strolled into down, Edge constantly finds himself doubting her words and is always the first to argue against her so much as stepping out of his sight, much less wandering down the mountain and into town. 

Hickory :: It’s the loud chatter of the others as they pass by that awakens him.

It’s the sound of her terrified soul accompanying them that has him shooting up and rushing to the door to peek outside and see what’s happened.

And it’s the sight of a familiar plant-like monster looking to be in no small amount of duress that has him grumbling to himself, ‘i don’ beleaf this shit…’

While everyone is running around playing body-guard to their human, it’s Hickory who makes sure Reed has a free moment to breathe and takes time to actually relax and remember to enjoy life, different though it may now be. He knows things’ll be fixed in time - until then, why not make the most of it? It’s not like a human gets turned into a monster every day. Like Stretch, he’s one of the voices that tempts her into long cuddles sessions or late-night movie binges or coaxes her into spending her time outside soaking up some sun and enjoying what time she’ll be having off from work.

Black :: He’s startled awake by the thunderous sound of his human bolting down the stars just outside of his room, shouting angrily for Classic in a tone that immediately has him tensed and ready for a fight - which isn’t a good thing, considering it’s a complete stranger he soon finds banging angrily on Classic’s door. He’d have almost thrown them out of the third story window then and there, had he not realized they shared the same voice, the same body language…

And that they called him ‘Sans’ instead of Blackberry the moment they noticed him peeking out from his room.

This… is a headache he really didn’t need.

Black is the one that manages her relations with the outside world while the others try reversing all that’s happened. He’s the one creating her alias, using his connections within the embassy to create the documentation she needs, and dealing with the increasingly-suspicious Muffet who’s eager to know just what kind of chaos the skeleton household has swept her human up into this time. His ability to spin half-truths is going to get quite the workout throughout all of this, and he’ll gripe about it even as he’s skillfully tying up any potential loose end, but at least he’ll have a very thankful little flower waiting safe and sound at home to show for it.

Dust :: He’s one of the last to find out what’s happened, groggily shortcutting downstairs one morning to find everyone has already congregated in the living room and are chittering alongside a very anxious-looking monster he’s never seen before.

And it’s the fact that they’re an unfamiliar face that brings him to a dead halt because by now he’s all but certain he knew every last monster in the underground…

By and large, Dust ends up getting quite a kick out of the entire ordeal. He lacks Classic’s overprotectiveness, something that had developed following events that occurred long before he’d even come to this AU, and as such tends to be a good deal more laid-back and teasing about the change on the whole. Like himself, Reed is largely confined to the lodge and its property, and Dust eventually takes it upon himself to give the new monster the tips and tricks she needs to keep herself from going as insane as he’s gone while under her might-as-well-be house arrest. He’ll accompany her when he has nothing better to do, lazing around as she tends to chores or the garden or goes for walks to shed some of her anxiousness, and makes for a surprisingly decent person to vent to when she’s feeling too antsy and needs to get her frustrations off of her chest.

[alienspawnwrites]

Laying Hands: Chapter 4

Read on AO3

Settling In

As far as transitions go, Althea's shift into living alongside the Avengers in Stark Tower was relatively smooth. Steve had upheld his promise to allow her time, and neither he nor the rest of the team pestered her about the circumstances surrounding her years as a captive of Hydra. Instead, they went about their days and routines as though she were simply a new, if not welcome, addition to their lives. Soon she began to feel almost at home amongst the group of particular individuals.

Steve made it a point to check in on her at least once a day, seeking her out if they hadn't crossed paths. Though no one had expressly confirmed her suspicions, she was now confident he was considered their leader. It wasn't difficult to understand why. He was a serious man by nature, focused and steadfast, but tempered with kindness and patience. He led by example, not by demand, and it was easy to see how he had earned the respect of the rest of the team.

One day, after another of Tony's referential jokes had gone over both their heads, Steve told her about how he had come to join the Avengers. He told her about the serum that had turned him into a super-soldier and created "Captain America", how he had first fought Hydra in the midst of World War II, and how he had awoken seventy years later to a new world with many of the same problems. His eyes were far away as he recounted his time serving with the military, and Althea felt overwhelming sympathy for this man out of time. His unwavering positivity and optimism after all that he had been through sparked in Althea a hope that she would be able to find a similar peace for herself.

She saw Tony much less often. At first, she had assumed he was busy running his namesake business, but she quickly learned that a majority of that work was done by his partner, Pepper. Instead, Tony busied himself with personal and experimental projects in his personal lab. Althea observed their relationship from a distance, admiring the young woman's ability to reign in the flighty, scattered genius. Their conversations were a dizzying display of witty jabs mixed with genuine affections. Althea couldn't imagine two people more perfectly suited for one another.

Despite being preoccupied with his work and personal life, Tony still made sure she was afforded every comfort during her time in his care. She didn't have to ask for new clothes; they simply appeared in her room after her first night in the tower, each piece simple but well made and perfectly tailored. A few days later a stylist had arrived unannounced to tend to Althea's hair, the end result being an effortless bob that ended just above her shoulders and emphasized her natural waves. She sought Tony out that evening to convey her gratitude, eventually finding him sipping brandy at the lounge bar. He waved off her thanks, claiming it was nothing and offered her a drink. She had never tasted alcohol, and her reaction to her first taste of the fiery liquid made Tony chuckle.

Bruce was equally hard to pin down, apparently spending just as much time in the lab as Stark. He was a nervous, quiet person and his unease made Althea feel a little less alone in her own. When she finally had the opportunity to ask him about what Tony had referred to as his "anger problem", he had been hesitant to elaborate. Eventually told her about his alter ego, the being known as "Hulk". She didn't know what to make of his revelation, or how to parse the idea that the timid genius before her could transform into a destructive, simple-minded beast. She tried not to dwell on the image, instead choosing to focus on the kind and compassionate man who spent his free time working diligently to help others.

Natasha and Clint spent most of their time training, usually in each other's company. They were the only two in the group without a superpower, if you counted Tony's immense wealth as a superpower, which Althea did. She wondered if their relative normalcy compared to the rest was behind their apparent closeness, or if they had a shared history she had yet to learn. Unlike Bruce, Althea didn't feel comfortable pressing either of them for details. While neither of them was unkind, they were both rather standoffish, obviously wary in her presence. She noticed how their conversations tailed off whenever she entered the room. She had yet to earn their trust, that much was clear. Clint was often gone, and in his absence, Natasha remained hard at work. If she had hobbies or interests outside crime-fighting and training, Althea never saw any evidence.

Thor was by far the friendliest among them. His easy smile and welcoming demeanor was an endearing contrast to his intimidating physique. Always eager to show off his awesome power, he asked her repeatedly to spectate his training sessions. Althea found she regretted finally giving in as she sat on the sidelines, watching him and Tony do their very best to beat the living shit out of one another. The blatant display of violence made her anxiety skyrocket, and she had spent the entire match on the edge of her seat, muscles tight and knuckles white with the stress of it all. They emerged from the skirmish spent, but smiling; Althea left exhausted and nervous. She had not returned to the training floor since.

She often ate alongside Thor, who seemed to enjoy eating just as much as he enjoyed fighting. Althea wondered if it was typical for beings from Asgard to eat four or five as much as a normal person or if Thor's appetite was considered immense on his world as well. He told her all about his home over their meals: of his people, the golden palace he called home, and the many battles he had fought alongside his friends. Often his tales would leave her in stitches. She had no idea what a Bilgesnipe was or why Thor and his warriors had been tasked with killing it, but the image of it cornering him with his pants down, literally, had made her laugh until tears ran down her cheeks.

His brother was another matter altogether. Althea had never met two people so diametrically opposed in appearance or demeanor. Whenever she encountered Loki he always excused himself immediately. Well, "excused" was putting it gently. Rather, he would quit the room without a word. Their interactions were made no less awkward by the fact that they seemed to run into each other all the time.

Althea spent most of her day systematically pouring through the vast library Tony had amassed in the lounge. She settled herself in one of the large window seats, basking in the warm sunlight and oscillating her attention between the written word and the expansive city skyline. After years without a single window, now she found herself unable to tear herself away from them.

It seemed Loki was similarly drawn to the same spot, turning around in exasperation when he found she had gotten there first, or getting up in a huff if he beat her and she tried to join him. At first, she had been offended. Soon though, it turned into a game of sorts. She always greeted him warmly, proferring a cheerful smile or casual remark about the weather. If he ever regarded her in turn, it was limited to an annoyed, haughty glance in her direction as he made his exit. Althea wasn't sure what her goal was with these interactions, but she knew she hadn't done anything to earn his attitude and therefore refused to simply lie down and take it.

He was an outsider, that much was clear. She wasn't the only one he avoided. Other than a few, tense interactions with his brother, she had never seen him so much as greet anyone, let alone converse with any of them. And as aloof as he acted, she could see the animosity was not one-sided. The others never attempted to connect with him either, not the way they did with her. When she questioned Thor about Loki, his answer was earnest but ambiguous.

"Loki has made his fair share of mistakes; mistakes that are not easily forgiven or forgotten. He has also been through his fair share of sorrow and loss... more than his fair share. Under it all, my brother has a good heart. I have seen it, and I believe the others will see it also, in time. Please do not judge him too quickly or harshly."

She trusted Thor. Besides a few embellished war stories, he seemed entirely incapable of lying. But if she was going to open up to these people, she had to trust all of them. That included Loki. Thor's endorsement was not enough. Until she knew more about him, she would keep her secrets to herself.

[psychefm]

talk to the hand [ TIMOTHEE CHALAMET ], [ REED ‘NEWT’ NEWTON ] is the new kid on the block around here. at [ TWENTY ], the [ CIS BOY] works at [ BABBAGE’S ] in the mall and, like, [ HE ] totally reminds us of [ CHANDLER BING ]. oh snap! what? their favorite movie is [ HOME ALONE ]???? so is mine!

ABOUT THE MUN.  i used to lie to y’all, my mom didn’t say no, i did

i hate this site man. and that’s it, that’s all you gotta know about me. 

BIO. good news!!!! i’ve successfully replaced all my emotions with jokes !!!! tw bullying

reed newton was born in london england to sylvia anne bixby and cornelius otis newton and honestly, he’s regretted it ever since.

newt was an accident. he was the product of one of his mother and father’s first ever lustful encounters, and their subsequent shotgun wedding so honestly they both spent most of newt’s formative years in the honeymoon period. some of newt’s earlier memories are of him walking in on his parents doing the devil’s tango in the broom closet and his nanny rushing to cover his eyes. good times. 

honestly newt walked in on his parents doing the do more times than any kid should have before the age of nine. and then he walked in on a parent doing the do with a non parent. in other words newt got an eyeful of his father and the pool boy and it wasn’t long after that that his parents went through a long and messy divorce. once again, good times. 

his mother decided to pack up their things and move herself and her nine year old very impressionable son to nebraska, because fuck that kid amiright. newt was quickly designated as the skinny weird nerdy kid with glasses and a funny little accent, and so as you can guess he was pretty mercilessly bullied from age nine to eighteen. he really never stood a chance.

i feel like this is a good time to mention that newt’s mother was a sex therapist, which is not the same as a regular therapist but still, therapist is in the name. he should have been able to talk to his parent in this time of strife and get some level of support right? nope. sylvia bixby is well known for writing a men are from mars, women are from venus like book on communication and dating and all that, so his mom was generally on book tour after book tour. but maybe she would have been supportive if she was ever actually around, right? again, nope. 

unbeknownst to newt whenever his mother was around she was not only just casually psycho analyzing her only child for shits and giggles, no, she as also writing about it. newt’s mother wrote an entire book about raising a highly repressed teenage son with newt as the star, and you can only guess what that did for newt’s stellar high social status in high school. nothing great. 

did newt ask her not to publish it once he realized she had wrote it? yes. did she still publish it? also yes. so newt and his mother no longer have the greatest relationship. holidays are awkward.

things were not better on his fathers end, but it wasn’t because his father particularly did anything nearly as tone deaf as his mother. yes, his father was a famous erotica novelist and yes that made newt’s life a living hell, but newt luckily wasn’t the subject of those books. neil transitioned from writing fabio like novels to writing some lgbt fiction which, great for representation, horrible for your teenage son who is now known around school for having a dad who writes porn. to top it off, neil ended up starting a long term relationship with the pool boy and gaining a pseudo step son from it. benjamin caley was not only more athletic than newt, not only more attractive than newt, but also better than newt in every single way imaginable which was a real self esteem booster. his father actively prefers benji and every time newt visits him in england over the summers he comes home hating himself a bit more.

which works out because after the book being published, most people kind of hated newt too so at the very least he was on trend. there was a lot of classic nineties bullying you know, wedgies, swirlies, shoving newt into lockers. all very cliche. newt would tell his bullies as much, but it never really went over that well. 

but then finally newt graduated. he was free from the hell that was the public education system and his childhood household. he graduated with honours, moved out of his mother’s house, and got himself his own apartment with a roommate near the mall where he got his first real job. 

goes to university for software engineering. has an internship at apple that he’s absolutely terrified to mess up. has an old beat up car that was like the first big purchase he ever made with his own money, so he loves it to death even though it’s a piece of shit. 

PERSONALITY.  do you fear me? don’t feel so special now. i have social anxiety. i fear everybody.

this is my first time playing newt so all of this is subject to change BUT

INSECURE. newt is a weird mix of cripplingly insecure and weirdly confident and there is no in between ever.

WITTY.  humour is and always will be the only defense newt has against anything, so he makes a lot of jokes especially when he feels uncomfortable.

EMPATHETIC. newt is a big push over when it comes to emotions like he would never do anything to hurt someone unless it was by accident or he was provoked or you’re his step brother benji or either of his parents in which case he will run you over with his car on sight. but no really, if newt is in a position where he has to hurt somebody he will do absolutely everything in his power to either not or avoid the situation completely. 

AWKWARD. sometimes honestly, although it depends on the day. v clumsy though. usually he can try to make his awkwardness funny but does he always succeed? the answer is no. 

HEADCANNONS.  actually all of my systems are nervous.

has to drink like six cups of coffee or tea a day. very serious about his tea because english. also has vegemite on his toast. 

can actually cook pretty well even though he prefers to eat takeout. cooks because it’s cheaper and he’s a broke ass student yk. won’t take money from his parents ever, and will straight up give it away if it’s forced upon him. 

writes star trek fanfic for fun and has a kind of weird relationship with writing because of his parents honestly?? but he enjoys it so, maybe the apple in fact does not fall from the tree. 

has commitment issues because of his parents divorce but don’t we all. 

developed a stutter after all the divorce drama because he thought it was his fault. he later had to see a speech therapist. his mother later had a fwb relationship with this same speech therapist. newt wanted to die. 

traded his glasses for contacts and you will literally only see newt in glasses if he rips or loses his contacts or if he’s at home. 

in love with all things sci fi, will rent and see every sci movie ever made if he can 

accidentally knocks down at least one display in babbages per day so there’s that.

speaking of newt runs a small side gig out of babbages where he fixes up tech because paying for university, rent, and car insurance out of pocket gets up there. so if you need someone to fix your desktop newt is your guy. 

is actually a pretty good flirt when he’s drunk or feels comfortable. is constantly teetering between painfully insecure and confident. 

is very bi and very hesitant about it because of his father and all his feelings towards that, but he will eventually stop fighting it so much soon hopefully. has probably had a few drunken hookups with guys but tries to convince himself that is just a drunk thing yk. 

is allergic to bees so death has a kiss just for him i guess. 

loves video games but that goes without saying

has anxiety and takes medication for it, one of the few healthy things his mother has ever done for him. 

speaking of his mother if newt ever sees her book about him in a book display he will spend as much time as needed taking each book and hiding them in obscure places so that no one will ever be able to find them and buy them. he read the whole thing because he had to know and yep he absolutely hates it. 

goes by newt and only newt so that no one can make the connection between him and his mother or his father upon first meeting him or hopefully ever. a lot of the kids he went to high school with still know though and with the accent and everything, he’s not fooling anyone who has at least heard a rumour 

idk what else y’all imma fite tumblr for making me write this twice

WANTED CONNECTIONS.  actually wait, i take that self deprecation back, i’m great.

ROOMMATE. because newt can’t afford his place on his own between all his expenses. please. think of the shenanigans. 

ON AGAIN OFF AGAIN THING. kind of inspired by chandler and janice tbh. these two are pretty incompatible and whenever they’re together all they talk about is breaking up with each other but whenever they’re broken up and they see each other they somehow always find themselves waking up in bed together the next morning. it’s a mess.

NERD SQUAD. give me newt’s friends from high school please and thanks. just a crew of absolutely dweebs and misfits. 

FWB/EWB. self explanatory considering newt’s big commitment issues but i just imagine like making out in the back room and like hooking up in the break room and someone leaving like a damning article of clothing in there and the two of them scrambling to get it before anyone notices. just fun. 

EX. self explanatory but yes, an ex gf or bf, an ex fwb or ewb, give me all the exes please. 

REPEAT CUSTOMER. this person is always paying newt to come fix their computer and other tech and newt just doesn’t understand how they mess it up so badly. like he doesn’t get how or why technology hates them as much as it does, but he’ll take the money.

HATESHIP. just good old fashion animosity. could be hate from school or the fresh hate upon working in the mall together or they can just be newt’s least favourite customer and he can hate them for that. 

CRUSH. maybe newt had a crush on them in school. maybe they had a crush on newt in school. maybe newt has a crush on them now. maybe they have a crush on newt now. 

and anything else tbh. i’d love a smoking buddy for newt, a friend who he can never get any work done around like when they’re together they’re just like !!!, someone who used to be one of the popular kids who he is now getting along with or still holding a grudge against, his big gay awakening in school maybe like the first masc person he had a crush on, someone who tries to get newt to party and come out of his shell, someone who idk steals from babbages skjsdj idk man i am open to anything at all so just like this and we can brain storm if anything!

[kerfufflewatch]

quick HC about their feelings on marriage that turned into a 1700-word fic, whoops whoops

--

“Somethin’ wrong, sugar? Went a bit quiet on me there.”

Hanzo blinks, and his eyes burn as the ceiling swims back into focus. He glances down at McCree, draped over him with his chin propped on Hanzo's chest, then out the window. The sun had still been setting, its golden rays still sneaking through the blinds of their dorm to dapple across their sheets and skin, when they had first settled into bed in the pleasant exhaustion of post-orgasmic glow; now, it is simply dark.

Hanzo affects a smile as he looks back to McCree. "It is nothing," he says, but McCree's worried frown only deepens.

"You sure?" McCree presses gently, and Hanzo is helpless to do anything but sigh and fall back against the pillows.  Damn McCree for his perceptiveness--nothing fools him anymore.

"It is something Genji said to me earlier," he admits to the ceiling, unable to meet McCree's gaze.

"Yeah? What'd he say?"

"He . . . asked when we planned to get married."

It had been an offhand comment made earlier that day--a joke more than anything else. They had been discussing the mission that McCree himself was out on, as well as half of the rest of the team, over cups of tea in the dining hall. Hanzo doesn't quite recall how the conversation had transitioned from the mission to McCree to Hanzo's relationship with him, but nonetheless something had prompted Genji to tease, "So when are the two of you just going to get married and get it over with?"

The question had caused Hanzo to sputter on a mouthful of tea, making Genji laugh. After wiping his mouth on his sleeve, Hanzo had replied, "We have no plans to do any such thing."

"No?" Genji had tilted his head a little, looking both thoughtful and thoroughly amused. "I admit I don't know how either of you feel about it, but it seems like something that should have come up."

"It has not," Hanzo said shortly.

Genji shrugged exaggeratedly and the conversation moved on, but the idea had stuck in Hanzo's head. True, he and McCree had been together now for some time--just over two years--and it made sense to wonder if they would ever take that step. But the thought of it alone had made fear curdle in his gut, and he had left his cup of tea unfinished. Once the announcement came over the comms that the Orca was arriving with the team, Hanzo had forgotten it entirely in favor of meeting McCree at the hangar (and wrestling him into bed for the first time in two weeks), and he wished that had been the end of it. The memory only came back as they lay together now, and Hanzo would happily have never said a word if not for McCree's damned perceptiveness.

McCree sits up slowly, sliding off of Hanzo to prop himself up on his arms at Hanzo's side. "Don't think we ever talked about that before," he says slowly.

"No. I told him as much."

McCree's brow furrows, and he clears his throat. "But it's still buggin' you," he says slowly. "Maybe it's . . . somethin' we should talk about?"

Hanzo sighs deeply. He does not want to have this conversation at all. Everything about their relationship may be unconventional in some way, but McCree still has the more romantic heart of the two of them, still has better ideas of how these things should go,  and Hanzo is certain his answer will ruin everything.

"Hanzo?" McCree prompts. "What—"

"I do not want to get married," Hanzo says.

There is a pause. "No?" McCree asks. Hanzo waits for him to say anything else that might betray more emotion than the single syllable, but when nothing else is forthcoming, he swallows and turns his head away on the pillow.

"In my family, marriage was a tool," he explains. "Most marriages were for convenience, or power. Those that were not were few and far between. I in particular, as the future head of the family, was expected to marry whoever would provide the best relations. Eligible women from other families were offered to me, and I suspect I to them, as though we were meant to choose our favorite toy and hope we tolerated each other. My feelings on the matter, or even whether I cared for any of them at all, were not important."

Hanzo hunches his shoulders, as though it will protect him from McCree's disappointment. "I have never been that fond of the concept overall, regardless. Perhaps because of my upbringing, the assumption I would never have a truly loving relationship. But I cannot shake that association, that feeling that marriage is nothing more than an inescapable contract done for the benefit of others, even if I know better now. I do not think that will ever change."

The bed dips as McCree shifts. Hanzo grips handfuls of the blanket in tight fists. "Can I say somethin'?" McCree asks.

With great reluctance, Hanzo turns his head to look at McCree. "I don't think I wanna get married, either," McCree says.

Hanzo blinks. The tightness in his chest loosens so abruptly that he feels lightheaded. "You don't?"

McCree shakes his heads. His mouth twists with an uncertain frown. "I did, once upon a time," he says. "When I was younger, when stuff was . . . well, nothing was all that stable in Blackwatch, but that was probably the closest I was gonna get. Wasn't even sure I'd live to see my thirties, though, let alone long enough to have anyone. After that, well . . . I've signed enough contracts that have fucked me over, lost a few other folks, that the idea of gettin' married proper just makes me nervous. Too much shit to deal with if it all goes south."

He shrugs, but the motion is forced. Hanzo turns fully to face him and takes his hand on the bed between them. McCree gives a weak smile as he threads their fingers together. "And all that's assumin' we even got it all cleaned up to do it legally," he continues. "But even if we didn't do the papers and all, I never really wanted to make a big fuss about spendin' my life with someone if I could just do it. Especially if it might not be all that long."

The relief that Hanzo first felt evaporates, replaced by a sour feeling of dread in his stomach as a new thought occurs to him. By the look on McCree's face, he has thought the same.

"Then where does that leave us?" Hanzo asks softly.

McCree blows out a breath. "Dunno," he says. "Guess that does sort of leave us without the usual end goal, doesn't it." He worries the inside of his cheek as he thinks, while the weight of their realization hangs heavy in the air between them.

Eventually, McCree says, "But, here's the thing. Does it really matter?"

"Does it not?" Hanzo counters. "If neither of us wants to marry when that is normally the end of a relationship, does it not matter? I would have thought you, more than I, would want this."

"Does it have to be the goal? It's not like anything else in our lives is normal. If neither us wants it but we're still happy, ain't that enough?"

"I am happy," Hanzo says emphatically. "I just fear that this means . . ." He trails off, unable to voice the words aloud, but the meaning is clear enough.

McCree shifts his grip on Hanzo's hand and brings it to his lips, pressing a dry kiss to the knuckles as he thinks. "I don't know what I want in the future," he says softly. "It was only pretty recently that I even started thinkin' there might be a future for me, let alone one with someone else. I'm so used to movin' around, doin' something new every day, not banking on anything stickin' around. I don't know how long we'll be in Overwatch. I don't know if I wanna stay here until I can't do it anymore, or move out to a little house in the middle of nowhere, or go back to takin' bounties, or what."

He meets Hanzo's gaze, his eyes wide with sincerity. "What I do know, though," he concludes, "is that whatever I end up doin', I want you there with me." He offers a tiny smile, which Hanzo returns with a wobbly one of his own, the emotions clamoring in his throat making him nervous to speak. "However we do it, I know I wanna spend my life with you, as long as you'll have me."

Hanzo's throat tightens and his eyes begin to burn traitorously. He swallows past it all, refusing to let himself be overwhelmed. "I want that as well," he says thickly. McCree's smile breaks into a grin, triggering a swell of confidence in Hanzo as he continues, "Likewise, I was never able to envision a future for myself. Sometimes, it still feels like wishful thinking to imagine there is anything after today. But I cannot see myself without you, and if there is a future to be had, I want it to be with you. Even if it is not by the route we are expected to take."

Hanzo feels better when he sees McCree's smile wobble, too. "That sounds like a plan to me," McCree replies, the casual response belied by the tears that he rapidly blinks away.

Hanzo chases that answer with a hard kiss--graceless, barely more than a press of lips and teeth and soon broken by matching bouts of joyful laughter. McCree pulls Hanzo into a tight embrace and Hanzo goes willingly, muffling the last of his laughter in the hollow of McCree's throat. He sighs and melts into boneless contentment as McCree's hand comes up to stroke through his hair.

"I love you," he murmurs against warm skin. He only hesitates a fraction of a second before he does, and it occurs to him just how strange that is when not long ago, he could barely admit to himself that he had feelings for McCree at all.

McCree's hold tightens as he buries his face in Hanzo's hair. "Love you too, sugar," he breathes. "We're gonna do just fine."

As they settle in for sleep, it's on the tip of Hanzo's tongue to point out that it's still early, and they never got around to eating dinner. However, wrapped up as he is, warm and heavy, in awe of the potential futures that lay before them, Hanzo decides they can wait just a little longer.

[lukamarinette]

Imagine: Luka comforting Marinette Pt.3

@queenmj10 Here's the tag you requested :)

"treat her right.."

Luka's hands fell limply on his side as he turned around ready to walk away.

Adrien's face was burning red as he could feel the guilt that was weighing inside his heart, he was in so much disappointing pain but he didn't care, he knew he deserved it.

"W-Why!?" Adrien screamed at the blue haired boy which made him come to a stop. "Why would you give me another chance? " His voice was now above a whisper and was on his knees, he deserved much more than just a punch on his face.

He deserved getting beaten up, he deserved letting his heart be torn apart just like what Marinette had experienced most of the time she spent with him. He was so frustrated with him, why?

Luka turned around, an exhausted look displaying on his face but his smile never looked at Adrien with distaste, it stayed the same, the smile that was kind and welcoming. "Because she's Marinette and she loves the slow blonde boy." He chuckled before walking away, ignoring the frustrated screams of the model calling out for him.

Luka's head was in disarray, suddenly it was like there was nothing left for him. The moment he met her it was like a whole new opportunity given in front of him. She was courageous, determined, strong and just.. Incredible. She was perfect to him but it was stupid of him to think it was that easy. It tore his heart apart the first time, watching Marinette's eyes gleam in excitement around the blonde, something she never did around him. He chuckled, feeling pity for himself.

The first time, he hugged her tight when he met her in the park, the first time she felt vulnerable around him, the first time he swore he loved the girl more than the world. He didn't care about anything, as long as Marinette was with him he was the most happiest.

It used to be just him and his guitar not until he met the rhythm that continuously strung his heart.

It felt unfair, A well raised boy having everything he wanted. Luka begged the universe, just this one time, let him have Marinette but when he was given the chance.. He let her go.

"what a hypocrite." he muttered, walking back to where their houseboat was.

When he returned home he was quickly bombarded with questions from his mother and sister but when they saw his exhausted face, they fell quiet and watch the blue haired lock himself in his room.

When Monday rolled in, it was the first time Luka had to hold back his feelings as he forced himself to avoid the girl he loved and her best friend, it was a slow stabbed to his chest every time he would see the hurt from Marinette's eyes and he would beat himself up, what a hypocrite he was for hurting her when he swore he would protect her heart. Everytime he saw her, he wanted to hug the blue haired girl tight like he usually would, tell her how much he loved her to the point his heart would ache when he couldn't see her and be yearned to tell her, I love you. But he couldn't and he didn't, because he knew the happiness Marinette was looking for wasn't him.

Even when he was furious at the model's action, he believed there was a reason behind it because he knew Adrien wasn't the type of person to do that horrible thing especially to someone he deeply and emotionally loved and with that, he gave him another chance.

"Luka." Startled, the boy jumped before turning around, meeting gazes with an angered Alya.

It was Luka's free period as he settled in the empty music room when Alya approached him.

"Oh, Alya hey." He acted casually, as he put down his guitar on the bench gently, only causing Alya's fuel to burn more rapidly. He kept his cool but he knew Alya's reason for forcing him to talk, it was Alya we were talking about.

"You better have a reason for leaving Marinette like that, Luka." She gritted her teeth as Luka tried to calm her down, A sudden pool of instant regret swirling through his stomach.

"You don't understand, Alya..." Luka tried to calm the raging female but it only made it worse. "I don't understand?" She was taken aback, looking at Luka with pure disbelief. "Then let me understand, Luka! Ever since you started ignoring her, it's been only hurting her deeply..."

Her booming voice transitioned into whisper by the end of her sentence when she noticed Luka was ignoring her outburst. She was tired of the boy who promised to do everything only to find out he suddenly disappeared and she didn't care what would happen to her, she was willing to press every button for the boy to spill out everything.

"Where was that Luka who dared say he was willing to protect Marinette?"

Alya, stop.

"That Luka who protectively fought for Marinette even when her heart was grieving for someone else?"

Stop.

"That Luka who never wanted his rhythm to die down just because of a boy who never treated her right!?"

"I said, stop!" Luka helplessly shouted as Alya took a step back, surprised from the sudden outburst of the usually cool and calm boy.

He was shakily breathing as he looked down, he could feel his eyes stinging from the reoccuring pain. "Don't act like you know what i'm going through, Alya."

"I love Marinette and still do!" He furrowed his brows, his eyes pleading to stop the girl from letting him remember his fault. " Even the thought of my actions right now is killing me deeper and I can't breathe every time I turn my back against her!" He cried out, rows of tears continuously falling down as Alya was finally able to truly see the pain that was burdened in Luka's shoulders.

He was hurting deeply inside, a damaged and broken person who had given everything he could offer. "What Marinette needed was someone to comfort her and I could be that, but what about me, Alya?" He desperately stared into her eyes, ignoring the tears that were flowing nonstop. "Do I look like someone who has no feelings?"

He had used everything up and he just wanted someone who could do the same. "I will do anything-- everything for that girl! But you have to remember, She's not the only one hurting! You know damn well, how much I love her and it suffocates me that I have to play the role of comforting the girl that made my world brighter, that I have to accept I can never be in that place in her heart where she keeps Adrien!"

He heavily took deep breathes and that was where he had finally noticed the guilt written all over her eyes. He had so much to say, everything he spouted out was less than half of what was weighing in his mind but he didn't want to hurt anyone further. He fell silent and turned around, grabbing his guitar to return it to his case as if nothing happened.

He cleared his throat as he eyed his guitar. "I'm fine, Alya." after that outburst? Like hell he was. He slings his guitar case over his shoulder and turned back around at the female who was still standing awkwardly. "I need to leave."

Weeks passed by after the incident and never did Alya bother him again, aside from that the situation slightly became tolerable for Luka, Marinette stopped trying to catch his attention which Luka felt was the best. Their friendship grew apart as the only thing he could do was occasionally glance at their table during lunch period, where he could see her smile. He noticed Adrien returned back to their group and he left it like that, a small smile playing on his lips as he felt relieved there was someone to comfort Marinette when she ever felt down.

Did he ever moved on fron Marinette? He didn't and maybe would never.

The entire thing became a mess without Luka ever confronting Marinette, Alya and Adrien. He only hoped for the best that Marinette could understand his feelings through Alya who had seen his fuel burn. He was recovering, keyword still. It was wrong for him to ignore Marinette in her healing process and his actions towards Marinette wasn't any less than what Adrien. He had no excuses, Marinette had the right to call him fake.

Luka as mentioned before, was still recovering both from his broken state and his love for the girl. Marinette and Adrien started over again and this time Adrien sought it right this time. Marinette was broken during the first time he heard Alya's confession but over time, she realized she was being selfish and she wanted to apologize to him for thinking about him that way.

Luka was happy for them, he saw the chemistry of the duo, especially when they fought against akumatized enemies together.

-- END

Explanation: (Your choice to read the contents below.)

@macaknight I thanked this person over here for telling me on the second chapter that the chapter felt rushed and that alone helped me reflect and improve my writing a bit more. :))

I felt disappointed in this chapter I wrote, honestly speaking. But judging from how Marinette fell deep, deep in love with Adrien and then having her wish finally coming true, i'm sure her heart barely could take in the information. We all maybe got frustrated why Marinette hadn't left Adrien by now but then again, we understand or at least know where she's coming from and on Luka's part, We've all seen how giving that boy is, sacrificing his heart if it meant seeing Marinette smile that's what I aimed the first time I wrote the first chapter and lastly on Adrien why he did what he'd done, Adrien kissed Lila because he purposely wanted Marinette to see him as a cheater so that, maybe then Marinette could finally move on from him because he knows if he just breaks up with Marinette that wouldn't be enough for Marinette to force her feelings to move on, if you understand what I mean. Gabriel, didn't approve of their relationship just like what had happened on a certain episode, Adrien's schedule was suddenly so jammed out and he was frustrated he couldn't do anything with Marinette as a boyfriend.

I never really expected a bad ending to happen to be honest, I love the two ships and want the best for them in my fanfics and imagination but here we are .-. *cough anyways-- I was at lost at what to do with this chapter, I didn't how to end it and it just didn't feel right to give them a happy ending after the feelings they've experienced through my portrayal. I've asked advice from my friends and the first one i've asked was bitter at that moment and requested to do the Luka gets into an accident and Marinette realizes her feelings cliché of course, I respected her opinion but i'm too attached to Luka to do any harm 😂 on the second person, she gave me helpful tips but focused on realistic advices instead of story plots but nevertheless I loved her tips and actually applied them on some parts of the story.

Even though this is a story, It scared me as I continued to let my hands type down whatever my mind could think of, I was urging myself to end this realistically and that caused them going on separate ways, letting them heal themselves why is why I chose the bad ending (This is giving me Mystic Messenger vibes)

Luka gave everything up and was so drained from his feelings and Marinette's heart was still falling for her first love. If you've made it this far, well sorry :< I promise to make it up to you when inspiration hits me in the face again

[davids-cartoon-corkboard]

Do you think Donnie will turn to the dark side and betray his bros? That’d be pretty cool and heart wrenching. Also a great device for the development of the Bros relationship.

(This is the blog’s very first ask! Thank you!)

I don’t think Donnie would ever outright flip his lid and say “forget you guys, I’m gonna go live with my evil dad now”. He loves his family and also he’d be at risk of getting thrown off a roof.

Buuuuut Draxum has a lot of powerful magitech. A situation might arise where the turtles need to get some of it to stop a bigger threat. The Shredder, for example.

Draxum has no doubt increased security since the turtles jacked up his lab in the first episode. They won’t be able to sneak or force their way in. So how do they get Draxum to let them in?

Remember, Draxum isn’t being evil for evil’s sake. He genuinely thinks turning humans into mutants/yokai is the right thing to do, and that killing those who get in his way is perfectly acceptable.

My theory is that Draxum is the only one of his family left alive after humans killed all the rest. Because sheep yokai are animals, monsters, less than human, and hey, this one has a pretty good rack! And so a young Draxum watches them remove his father’s head and carry it away. Later it will be mounted on a wall as a conversation piece. A trophy. The kiddies will play ring toss on it.

The rise turtles, as a nod to the ‘87 cartoon, are comfortable walking around in public with minimal disguises. None of the humans give a shit, because New York is just Like That.

Right?

That won’t last forever. Mutants are animals, monsters, less than human. They’ll eat our children! Make our homes vanish! Wreck our china shops!

People are going to run from our boys. People are going to throw things at them. People are going to call them names. Agent Bishop is going to crawl out of the depths of Hell and try to pick them apart in the most painful way he can.

If the turtles need something from Draxum, they’ll be able to use this treatment (and his backstory) to their advantage.

Donnie alone will approach Draxum, because a single turtle is less likely to make him feel threatened. And Donnie alone will approach Draxum because Draxum will see his young turtle, the one that took after him the most from the start (arrogant cynical softshell genius), exhausted and frightened, with no weapon and a new scar beginning to form on his shell.

He’ll hear Donnie speak to him humbly and say “The humans have discovered us. We can’t go anywhere anymore without being attacked. We’re running low on supplies. None of us can sleep at night. They’re eventually going to find out where we live. The others think there’s a peaceful solution, but I know better, and I don’t want to die. Please, help me.”

If there is any heartstring of Draxum’s left to tug, that will be it. What a young Draxum wanted more than anything else in the world was for someone to help him when he was alone, and the Hidden City was a terrible place to grow up without help. These days he’s not soft, of course, but another mind put towards his project would be useful…

He lets Donnie inside, but doesn’t let his guard down.

It was mostly a trick, on Donnie’s part. Sure, humans have given them some shit, but they’re not in immediate danger. Donnie prepped for this deception. No sleep for a week, with difficult training and splashes through the sewer throughout. It took him ages to convince Raph to rough up his shell. But now he’s inside. And if he’s patient, he can get what he needs.

Donnie learns that the “Baron” in “Baron Draxum” isn’t just for drama- he actually holds some status in the Hidden City. Draxum brings back things he considers scraps and trinkets, and they’re unlike anything Donnie has ever seen. Magic has opened up a whole new field of study for him! Imagine what he could do if he had access to more of Draxum’s stuff! He might be able to get his hands on the thing he needs now… but his chances would be better if Draxum trusted him more.

He should stay a little longer.

Huginn and Muninn’s chatter provide a familiar level of background noise, but they’re wise enough not to bother Donnie- they only watch him, as Draxum commanded. They bring him food and medicine to help him recover. They’re quiet when he sleeps. They don’t poke at and accidentally break whatever he’s tinkering with. They recognize that streak of Draxum in him better than anyone else.

Donnie hasn’t been able to focus so well in- well, ever.

While watching Draxum work, he casually offers a suggestion -human gametes form like this, so if you tweaked the mutagen like that then they’d transition to yokai gametes more easily- and Draxum smiles, adjusting his formula. Later, Draxum monologues about Unified Runic Laws in Donnie’s general direction. Sure, Donnie probably shouldn’t have helped out with the whole evil plan thing, but knowing those Runic Laws is going to make the lair’s antimagic security system go from theory to reality!

Surely Donnie could learn even more if he stayed for another week or so.

Big Mama sends some of her minions to attack Draxum’s lab- more to annoy him than anything, but they knocked a couple of things loose. Instead of grabbing some gizmos and running off in the confusion, Donnie helped fight off the interlopers and solder some things back together afterwards. Draxum examines his handiwork. Precise, organized, efficient. “Well done” he says. “Thank you.”

Donnie could stick around for a bit more, couldn’t he?

Donnie’s been gone a long time, and of course he couldn’t take his bo or any communication devices with him. The rest of the turtles fear the worst. They try to “free” him. He “rejects” them. But that’s all right. It’s just a trick to get Draxum to trust him. Giving his brothers a few bruised scales is worth the artifact he has to bring back.

He tries not to think about how Leo ran off with a limp.

Baron Draxum is not a trusting yokai. But seeing how the boy’s eyes lit up at the slightest hint of praise, how much effort he put into whatever he worked on, how fascinated he is by the magitech under Draxum’s roof… it seems unlikely that he’ll just run off.

But just in case… a present. A test. Children like presents, right? And Draxum likes tests. He gives Donnie a glowing purple staff.

Now, Donnie had refused this staff in the first episode, back when things were simple and he still had his titanium bo. But now that he knows a bit more about magic, he’d really like to see what makes this one tick.

Leo’s sword creates portals through space. Why not have his twin’s weapon create portals through time?

While tinkering with the staff, Donnie accidentally flings himself into a future where he sees what will happen if Draxum continues to influence him. If he stays too long, he’ll never want to leave.

He meets his brothers, aged and weary over a thirty year gap. And he is reminded of the pile of notes and gadgets he has back at Draxum’s lair.

Leo is blind (Donnie was working on a flashbomb/curse combo).

Raph lost an eye (Donnie had scratched out some ideas for magical whirlwinds that selectively picked up the sharpest shrapnel).

Mikey’s arm is severed (a simple reversal spell, and his kusari-fundo turned on him and sawed it off).

April is cold, so different from her bright and vibrant teenage self. She leads what little resistance there is, and used up all her warmth to try and keep hope alive.

They all buried what was left of Splinter ages ago.

Future!Donnie is Draxum’s right-hand turtle, his favored, only son, and if he can hold out just a little longer, Draxum will die (of old age or of coup, Future!Donnie could go either way), and he’ll be in control, and he will fix the world, and make it as it should be.

Future!Donnie got Draxum’s praise, he got his trust, he got his knowledge, he got his artifacts, he got, he got, he got…

He got a swift kick in the teeth from his pissed-off past self.

Donnie is shaken. For how long had this mission been about him, at the expense of everything and everyone else? How much time had he spent listening to Draxum ramble instead of gain intel on the object he needed? How far had he been willing to go?

The ensuing battle leaves Donnie victorious… sort of. He’s the only one left alive. He doesn’t have time to process what he’s experienced, because the staff re-activates, and rockets him back to the present.

Donnie breaks it over his knee, takes the item he was after, and burns Draxum’s lab to the ground.