#i stand that none of these are completely conventional relationships

[pyroshrooms]

Animated movies with undefined and unconventional family dynamics my absolute beloveds

[saintsenara]

1,8,18,21,22

thank you very much for the ask, @ashesandhackles. let's see how these go down...

[choose violence ask game here]

1. who is the character everyone gets wrong?

the last time i answered this question i said sirius - both fanon sirius and dark!sirius - and i stand by it, so this time, let's say... dumbledore.

and, actually, i think this for many of the same reasons which inspired my sirius answer. i really dislike dumbledore bashing, since it’s so frequently based in a complete misunderstanding of his character and the role he serves within the series’ narrative conventions - above all, the fact that the omniscient vibe he gives off in books 1-6 is not actually omniscience at all, as book 7 reveals; dumbledore doesn’t know that sirius is innocent, or that moody is barty crouch jr., or that kreacher is passing information to voldemort, because he’s just a human being. far too many criticisms of dumbledore don’t take this into account, ascribing to malice what is clearly just fallibility.

but, with this said, i dislike the anti-bashing turn in dumbledore-centric fics just as much, because many of these pair the idea that dumbledore is fallible (good and correct) with the idea that he is - for want of a better term - harry-ish. and this is just as bad a misreading of the character. dumbledore is not impulsive or reckless or radical - he holds radical views, but he does nothing to actually advance them in society (this is a man who is at the heart of the establishment for half a century, who does nothing with that power to dismantle the oppressive social structures which drive wizarding politics and prop up blood-supremacy). dumbledore is a hypocrite - he’s happy to be depended on by fudge, he is appalled that fudge might depend on lucius malfoy. dumbledore lives in an ivory tower. dumbledore projects his shame and self-loathing onto others in a way which is detrimental to their own happiness. and so on.

none of these things preclude dumbledore being courageous, but his ‘gryffindor courage’ is remarkably un-gryffindorish, and a lot of pro-dumbledore writing is surprisingly unwilling to confront this.

[also, there’s the other layer of pro-dumbledore writing i dislike - when authors make him hyper-whimsical. the man is stylish, rather than dressed like he ran into a charity shop and fell over. his sweet tooth is an incidental detail - and a trait which harry also shares - rather than his entire personality. he is not dithering and indecisive - he is a creature of inaction, but he tends to have settled on a single ‘right’ course very quickly in his mind. he is not silly. he is not a blushing fool in his relationships - all evidence is that he had just as much power over grindelwald as grindelwald had over him. he is not particularly emotionally demonstrative. he is physically strong. he is taller than voldemort. and, crucially, his mask of benign good humour is fake. all of his ‘whimsical’ traits are part of the act, the real dumbledore is ruthless and damaged and a nerd who loves reading and it’s iconic. let him be that way.]

8. what is the common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about?

there is no such thing as canon compliance.

by which i mean that ‘canon compliant’ is a useful tag to have on ao3 as an indicator of chronology - it’s a good shorthand for ‘the people who die in the series will die in this fic too’, ‘the main events which happen in the books will be mentioned here’, and so on. but i’m not sure that i think it goes beyond that.

and the reason for that, is that i have never seen anything which purports to be canon compliant beyond chronology - including my own work - which actually is.

there are several reasons for this:

the first is something which, if you’ve read other posts on this blog, you will know is a common refrain of mine - that the series is bound by specific genre conventions. if authors are transferring the action into a genre different from the ones the series makes use of, they are not writing something which is canon compliant, but canon coherent.

the second is that if authors are filling in gaps which are missing from the series - above all, the marauders-era or post-war-pre-epilogue timeline - they are doing something which is materially no different from writing a non-canon ship. i.e. writing exactly what they want. if your fic is crammed with original characters, or your marauders listen to cool muggle music, or you’ve spent more than twenty seconds thinking about the wizarding political or legal system then i love that for you - this is good and everyone should do it. but it’s not canon compliant. it’s canon coherent.

the third - and undoubtedly most controversial - is that you cannot write something canon compliant and hold the principle that the author is dead. because we know exactly how jkr thinks that canon should be interpreted, and this is often in ways which are - to borrow a phrase from ursula le guin - rather ethically mean-spirited. jkr’s views on fairness, violence, class, motherhood, love, and - of course - gender weave themselves into the narrative in ways which cannot simply be written off as ‘oh, it’s just harry’s perspective.’

i believe we have a moral imperative to know what she thinks and to interrogate the ways in which this appears in the canon text. i also think - obviously - that we don’t have to agree with what she thinks in order to write things which feel close to canon. and i don’t agree with her - not only when it comes to her views on trans people, which are actively harmful - but also when it comes to things like the fact that she’s clearly someone who’s rather vindictive, but who believes that this vindictiveness is really a strong sense of fairness (look, for example, at the dichotomy between how the text presents violence against people it thinks ‘deserve’ it - harry using the cruciatus curse on amycus carrow being a great example, neither harry, nor mcgonagall, nor the narrative give a fuck - and those it thinks don't). or the fact that her own experience of both motherhood and daughterhood - an experience which was clearly very traumatic for her (her mother died of multiple sclerosis, her first husband was violent towards her, she has an extremely difficult relationship with her father) - drives the series’ prioritisation of sacrificial motherhood, criticism towards mothers who don’t make their children the focus of their entire world, and certain coolness towards fathers (especially absentee ones - who will be blamed by the narrative for being murdered by their own sons). or the fact that she has extremely narrow views on cisgender women, even before her views on trans women are taken into account, which turn up again and again in how female characters we are not supposed to be sympathetic towards are written.

i am not, of course, suggesting that writing a fic which is heavily based in canon means that an author supports jkr’s views. what i am saying instead is that fics which engage with questions such as how harry understands violence against the bad guys in ways which go beyond ‘lol, lmao’ or which write lavender as a person whose fondness for stereotypical femininity doesn’t make her insubstantial or which point out that the narrative blaming merope gaunt for dying directly justifies everything voldemort believes are canon coherent.

and, actually, i think that this broader term - canon coherent - is a better one to talk about the non-chronological aspects of canon compliance. because the dividing line between canon compliant fics and canon divergent ones is incredibly arbitrary, and often doesn’t take into account how close to canon the writing in otherwise canon divergent stories often is. after all, if someone writes a story in which harry feels exactly like his canon self, except that the romantic partner he ends up with isn’t ginny, that is arguably more canon compliant than a piece of happy-ever-after hinny in which ginny is a doormat who gives up her career to be harry’s bang maid and harry speaks like he’s had twenty years of therapy. but only one of these pieces will be welcomed onto canon compliant rec-lists and into canon compliant discussion spaces.

[and it’s worth mentioning that plenty of canon compliant only spaces do allow flexibility - above all in being open to interpretations of characters such as james, harry, and hermione in which they are not white. this is good and they should continue to do this, but we can go further, especially in accepting queer interpretations of the main characters into canon compliant discussion.]

i also think - and i’m aware this may sound cruel - that thinking in terms of canon coherence, rather than compliance and divergence, would be good for everybody’s ego. i can acknowledge that plenty of people who diverge from canon can be dicks about it - and i think that the criticism people who prefer the canon endgame ships often get for being ‘boring’ (and, in the case of ships such as remadora, ‘homophobic’) is bullshit - but the canon compliant girlies (gender neutral) are, in many cases, no better. it is not harder to write something ‘canon compliant’ - not least because, as discussed, you’re not - and it is not evidence of an author engaging more seriously with the text and its themes. there is a tendency i have noticed in the fandom spaces i inhabit, many of which feature people whose preference is for the canon ships etc., for non canon pairings to be treated as - essentially - crack ships, especially in stories which are light or whimsical in tone. but when i say that writing on tomarry or snarry or snack or snapemort or drarry or riddledore or wolfstar or what have you can deliver characterisation and worldbuilding and narrative construction which feels infinitely more plausible than many ‘canon compliant’ pieces of writing, i mean this entirely seriously.

and i think it would be good if the dividing line which leads many people to say ‘i don’t read canon divergent fics’ or ‘i don’t read canon compliant fics’ was instead blended into a preference for fics which are canon coherent or otherwise. we would all learn something.

18. it’s absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on…

delphini.

another reason why canon coherence over canon compliance is valuable is it means that one can pretend the cursed child doesn’t exist.

but i would like to make a case for the fact that delphini as a concept (so, nothing like the way she’s written in that play…) makes sense and is a character i’d like to see added to more stuff. she works within both voldemort and bellatrix’s canonical arcs, she gives rodolphus something to do post-war after he spends canon being futile, imagine how funny it would be if teddy had a crush on her, george-michael and maeby style (truly les cousins dangereux), imagine how funny it would be if she is the spitting image of her muggle grandfather and her dad’s having a crisis every time he sees her, imagine her trying to parent trap voldemort and bellatrix into actually falling in love…

you can do serious things with her too - in fact, i have - but, as someone who thinks anything is improved by someone spindly and vaguely sinister, i think she’s a hoot and she deserves to turn up in more things.

21: what part of canon do you think is overhyped?

my eyes were bone dry when dobby-ex-machina died.

22: what is your favourite part of canon, which everyone else ignores?

that harry is a luxury boy. let my man buy his solid gold cauldron, hagrid, don’t be a narc.

[in general, i don't love versions of harry which show him as really abstemious or austere - he's pretty careless with his possessions and he doesn't regard the expensive things he owns as something to be unusually protective over. in his adulthood, he's 100% making sure his shed is stocked with the best brooms on the market and buying himself a little treat whenever he's feeling spenny.]

[omegaversetheory]

Question, what would you consider "Non traditional A/B/O" I'm curious cause I feel like it's miss used alot

oh i agreeee.

But before I get into what non-traditional is, I think it would be easier to list what I think traditional is.

One of the main protagonists and/or love interests/part of the coupling is an alpha.

The alpha is male coded (even if they aren't male). The omega is female coded (even if they aren't female).

May have themes of found family/the idea that the individual was not complete until they found x,y,z person (could be in pack setting, via friendship, or via a romantic relationship)

Features some sort of romantic relationship (could be the escalation, de-escalation, termination, re-unification, etc..)

Written from a western cultural perspective (which makes since because I think the majority of the community is north american)

Formulaic.

Escapist and fantastical (what passes for realism here would not pass in other tropes or genres)

Strict binary gender roles/dynamics are heavily binary gender coded. Personally I feel like it gets a little regressive sometimes, which only bothers me when it's touting itself as progressive.

Narrow - in the sense that the story feels very focused on whatever the main storyline is and throws out everything else. Where's the worldbuilding? Where's my immersion?

Quasi-experimental. (I see a lot of different gender and sexual expressions/orientations/etc.. written which is awesome, but it's so common that is not experimental for this genre anymore)

None of these things are bad at all. Much more after the cut.

BUT! if someone was new to the genre and asked me what they should expect I'd hand them this list. I'll always advocate for people to join this community and participate however they want to, but when you've been around for a while you see the same thing time and time again. Non-traditional is hard to write because we are so ingrained in our conventions. But using the framework I've written above here's some ideas of what I think that a non-traditional omegaverse may look like.

No alpha involved. In fact the dynamics of the people in the relationship aren't as important in a traditional omegaverse. (I'd love to see a beta/beta story in which they do not bond over or ever discuss being seen as less desirable than alphas and/or omegas)

Binary gender roles and gender as we understand it via our cultures is not a thing. It's common for dynamics to be seen as secondary genders traditionally, but what if that was just your primary gender. What if there was no primary/secondary - what if it was just one thing.

No male/female coding. In a three part system this doesn't make sense, but to push that even further I'd love to see a concept of it all that's much more fluid and wholly non-binary that what we understand.

No romance. Let's get a mystery, a horror, a comedy, how about coming of age? No romantic interests as the main plot.

Isn't trying to conform to what we understand to be realism. Take it to the point that it operates like high-fantasy with it's own rules and structures and cultural variations.

Deep. Give me the unique history of the area, of the culture. Give me tasty breadcrumbs of culture and lore in throw away comments or off-hand explainations. Write a story fully immersed in the culture. Make it feel "other"'

Truly experimental. Let's go real off the walls. I mean a story that contains 1-6 will already stand out, but surprise me. Let's subvert traditional omegaverse tropes and conventions even further. Maybe omegas aren't desirable. Maybe the tone is futuristic rather than historical. We get so much commentary on the way things are in our real world, let's get some more and let's also hear about the way we want it to be.

I could go on and on. But I won't. It's getting late lol.

But peanut gallery what do you think? Fill my in-box with synopsis of non-traditional omegaverse stories that hit some of these points or just get creative! What do you feel like is alternative/progressive for this genre?

Also, check out my post about traditional-contemporary-modern-postmodern. Where do your favorite stories stand?

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

💄 Anomalous: Chapter Seven

Anomalous: You are attending a make-up artist convention in London, England for your work as a MUA yourself. Little do you expect to meet a handsome stranger at a bar, proceed to ditch your friends with him, have a one-night stand, and then flee because you are late for a convention event. Unbeknownst to you, that will not be the last time you see that handsome stranger, and now that you think about it… you really should have gotten his number. 

Warnings: None.

To Note: Tom Sturridge x MUAFem!Reader, Respect The Actor! (This is Fiction), Reader has long hair for reasons, You can thank @pinksirensong for this lovely mini series.

Word Count: ~2.9k

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You were sure that the costume department had an obsession with your and Tom’s relationship, whatever it may be. How did you know that? Most of Agnes’s close friends were currently gathered around you, ‘watching’ the current scene being filmed. You knew better, they wanted all the details on how you knew Tom. It was hard enough keeping them quiet on set with Neil around, the last thing you wanted was for their chatter to interrupt filming and subsequently get in trouble because it would become apparent that you were the source of the conversation. 

“Come on, Y/N,” Agnes whined in your ear, hanging close to you and peering at you while batting her eyelashes. You rolled your eyes and sighed heavily. 

“I swear to god, Aggie, does it really matter where I met him?” You softly complained, waving your arm around. “We don’t know each other very well.” The other costume designers, which you knew through your work and Aggie, joined in on the batting eyelashes and pleading looks. “Don’t you all have better things to do right now than give me pleading looks?”

“No, not really,” Keisha replied frankly. “Now spill girl. You groaned again, rubbed your face with your hand in defeat, and sighed once more. 

“Do you remember passionfruit milkshake guy from last year?” You softly asked. They processed your words for a few moments and then gasped dramatically.

“Oh my god!! He’s passionfruit milkshake guy!?” Agnes exclaimed, her eyes wide as she realized exactly what you were insinuating. “Y/N tell me you didn’t!” Your face grew warm as embarrassment filled you once more. 

“I did.” You admitted, your eyes trailing along Tom’s figure as he moved about the set with Vivienne. He moved so naturally, each twist of muscle or move of limb precise and coordinated. It was admirable and enviable how controlled he was with his body and muscles. The micro expressions alone… Agnes grabbed your arm and hung from it, her eyes peering up into yours with insistence. 

“I can’t believe you left him there,” She hissed up at you. “You left Tom Sturridge in hi—“ Your hand snapped up and you covered her mouth to stop her from blurting out the fact that you had slept with Tom. “God, Y/N, were the sheets still warm?” 

“For the love of god, Agnes, respectfully, shut up.” You told her, your cheeks on fire as the girls around you cackled. “I was going to be late for my convention talk, you know, the entire reason why I was in London in the first place!” 

“I bet he has a glorious ass,” You closed your eyes and counted to ten, willing yourself to not snip back that, yes, he did in fact have a glorious ass (Well, his whole damn body was glorious). Were you really having this conversation in your workplaces?

“Would you please shut up, we are at work,” You told her, your own eyes on the pleading side this time. Agnes decided to take pity on you. 

“Fine, but we’re getting all of the details tonight.” She huffed at you, complete and total seriousness in her eyes. 

“I’m not divulging my sex life to you, Agnes,” You snorted at her, crossing your arms. Agnes raised her eyebrow in skepticism. “Ever.”

“Well see about that,” She smugly replied, knowing that when push came to shove, you would give in if she pushed hard enough, long enough. Agnes’s eyes caught sight of something behind you and twisting on the ball of your foot, you turned to see what had caught her attention. Oh, that would definitely do it. Apparently, the shooting was finished and Tom was striding towards you with a set gaze. Even an idiot would know he was coming for you. 

You couldn’t help but bite your lip as you appreciated how well simple jeans and a t-shirt looked on Tom and were still in the middle of your appreciation when he reached you. So when he caught your hand and started tugging you along, you were caught off guard and scrambled to catch up to him. Naturally, your friends giggled and cackled behind you. 

“Tom?” You asked as you finally caught up with his strides, he was taking you back to his dressing room. He came to a stop and pulled you around so you were facing him. 

“Give me your phone,” He prompted, you blinked at him, your eyebrows pinching together in confusion as you did as he asked. 

“Why do you want my phone?” You asked as you handed your phone over to him regardless and he started fiddling with it. His face was entirely focused on the device in his hand. 

“Adding my number and texting my phone so I don’t lose you again,” Tom explained, squinting at the screen and slowly typing. Your eyebrow went up and you bit your lip. “Speaking of which,” He continued, his eyes looking up from your phone. “Some of the main cast is having dinner tonight, a little party, you should come.” 

“I should, should I?” You returned, your eyebrow popping up. “I’m not a part of the cast, Tom, wouldn’t I be out of place?” He countered your eyebrow raise with one of his own. 

“No,” He straight up told you. “Besides, you don’t know anyone and it’d be great for you to meet them outside of work!” His dog ears were standing up and if he had a tail it would be wagging. “It’s at the Galvin at Windows.”

“That sounds fancy,” You remarked skeptically. 

“It’ll be a relaxed environment, you just need to wear something nice, which won’t be hard because I’m pretty sure you look amazing whatever you wear.” He was almost begging and you were rolling your eyes. “Pretty please? They’ll like you and I love your company.”

“We literally spent less than twelve hours together, Tom,” You pointed out. He wasn’t deterred and continued to give you puppy eyes. 

“All the more reason for you to go, I want to know more about you, Y/N.” A good point. You hardly knew each other and while you had no idea what the relationship you had with Tom was, you should probably get to know him better. 

“Fine, but no hogging me,” You replied with a hint of a smile at the corner of your mouth. That blinding smile of his reappeared and in a flash, he was leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

“Perfect, the party starts at six and the drivers will start shuttling people at five-thirty!” With that, Tom dashed off, yelling over his shoulder about having to speak with someone from special effects. While you were wondering why you had even said yes because you didn’t bring any nice dresses in your rapid packing, Agnes, and Simoné, the art director, sidled on up to you. 

“Girl he just planted one on you like it was nothing!” Simoné exclaimed, fanning herself as Agnes giggled. You rubbed your face with your hands and tried to beat back the heat climbing up your neck. 

“We aren’t talking about that right now, I’ve got a much bigger problem at the moment,” You told them massaging the bridge of your nose. “I just said I would go to dinner with the cast, but I have absolutely nothing to wear.” 

“This dress is tight,” You rumbled, having uncomfortable memories of being stuffed into a dress before and then proceeding to spend a night with Tom. Well, a repeat of events will probably won’t happen again but it was strange that you were once again seeing Tom wearing a dress that was too small on you. He would appreciate your curves, at least, right?

“Tight and fantastic,” Simoné murmured beside you as Kielce, one of the regular makeup artists on set, worked on your face. 

“And you know I can do my own makeup… right?” Kielce, Simoné, and Agnes snorted at you and rolled their eyes. 

“If we left your makeup to you, you’d wear mascara and foundation, that’s it.” Agnes chided you, giving you a knowing look. “For a makeup artist, you sure don’t wear much…” 

“I’m special effects, Aggie,” You reminded her with a sigh as Kielce brandished a mascara wand at you. He must be finished then. You looked upwards as your lashes were given some attention. “My job is special effects makeup, I don’t work mainstream often.” You pointed it out. “Also, do you know how much I sweat while on the job? Even the best sweat-proof makeup runs on me.”

“Excuses,” Kielce clicked his tongue. “You just don’t care about how you look.” You huffed but couldn’t refute his words. The time you spent doing other people's makeup left you feeling ill-inclined to do yours. So you went au natural almost 100% of the time. Kielce capped the mascara tube and stepped back. “Okay babes, how does she look?” 

Agnes and Simoné crowded around you and peered at your face while you scowled at them. 

“Scowl all you want, Y/N, you still look fantastic,” Simoné stated frankly before tugging at your wrists. “No come on, the shuttle should be getting back here soon and you have a hot date to meet.” 

“It’s not a date!” Your protest was waved off and you were shooed from your seat. 

“It’s a date, Y/N, stop protesting.” Anges spoke, shooing you in the direction of the cars that were taking the actors and actresses to and from the main set hub. “And I want pictures and details!”

“Whatever keeps you happy,” You grumbled, drawing your coat around your shoulders and buttoning it up. You were happy to tell your friends about what happened at the dinner, you were happy to tell them what the actors were like outside of work. But if they pestered you about what you and Tom had been up to? Your mouth would stay shut to the details. 

You caught a ride to the Galvin at Windows and took your phone out to research a little on the Galvin at Windows. Your eye twitched when you realized how nice of a restaurant it was. Hopefully, you wouldn’t be too out of place. Walking into the London Hilton, you glanced around and looked for the signs to the restaurant. Your eyes caught sight of a sign that read Galvin at Windows and promptly realized that the hotel was at the top of the hotel. At least you would have a view. 

You had to show a hotel worker your set badge to get past the main entrance, but once you did, they offered to take your coat and hang it for you while at dinner and directed you to the elevator. Nervously tapping your phone against your thigh, you looked up to the ceiling of the elevator and let out a breath. 

“Okay, Y/N, you can do this, it’s not like you slept with an actor and now are going to dinner with him and a bunch of other famous people.” You weren’t doing a very good job of reassuring yourself. The elevator let out a ding and the doors opened. You stilled your feverous tapping and slipped your phone into the little clutch you had. You stepped forward and approached the group of people, glad to see at least, a few familiar faces such as Justin and Neil. Not saying that you were going to talk to them the whole evening… but it was somewhat intimidating to be around people of such caliber.

Naturally, it didn’t take long for Tom to spot you. Heads were turning at your entrance and as you ventured closer to the talking group, Tom’s face brightened up and he trotted forward with a wide smile on his lips. 

“You made it!” He exclaimed, reaching you and unconsciously leaning down to kiss your cheek. You were sure he didn’t even think about that action. Your lips twitched in response as Tom wrapped his arm around your back and guided you back to the others. 

“I may or may not have been threatened by Agnes and our friends to come or else,” You admitted with a soft chuckle, eyeing Tom’s beaming face. “I believe they said something about wanting all the details? Just so you know… you tell them anything? I know where you sleep.” You said the last part so matter of fact that Tom just stared at you as those around you snickered and laughed. “Comprende?”

“Entirely,” Tom replied, his eyebrow going up at the blatant admittance that you knew where his flat was and most likely, had been in it. Well, you were pretty sure everyone on set knew something was going on since Tom could not, for the life of him, hide his excitement.

As it turned out, the cast were very nice people and made very good company to be around (ignoring all the teasing remarks you received). Naturally, you and Mason ended up thick as thieves, and you and Vivienne took pleasure in trash-talking about Tom’s character, Dream… which the man took great offense to and ardently defended like his life depended on it. But really, you were fairly sure that Dream of the Endless could use a major attitude adjustment. 

It was probably only forty minutes into the party dinner, and only the appetizers were out as cast members milled around, still happily talking, when you started to crash. Coffee and espresso only worked for so long. You needed food… but you also needed sleep. Luckily, Tom had been watching as your fatigue slowly came back, and chose this moment to step up to your side and whisper in your ear. 

“Something tells me that you’d rather have a quick meal at take-away and go to bed than stay and eat five-star food…” Tom softly spoke, the heat from his body warming yours and only dragging you further toward your want to go to sleep. Your painted lips twitched and you turned your head, your face mere millimeters from touching Tom’s. 

“You know a place?” You questioned with a cheeky smile and a raised eyebrow. Tom’s smile widened as he giggled and took your hand once more. He swiftly pulled you away from the group of chatting people and led you back to the elevator. You suppose you should feel bad for ditching everyone without a word of thanks or goodbye… but with how quickly Tom had you bundled up in your coat and directed towards a certain food hall, all the while grinning, you couldn’t bear to break that childlike giddiness. Not to mention you absolutely loved the feeling of his hand grasping yours. So you ended up at the Arcade Food Hall once more, but rather than fuss over what to eat, Tom brought you over to a stall named Manna, and you ordered burgers and fries. 

You probably looked ridiculous in your nice clothes, hair, and makeup, eating a greasy burger and fries. You most definitely earned yourself looks from those around you because who dressed up that nicely for takeaway? But the only thing you were paying attention to was your burger (which was delicious), and Tom, who was just as excited to eat as you. 

“As nice as that food was, nothing beats a good burger,” Tom sighed as you licked your fingers and chuckled. His phone started beeping with text messages. Fishing it out of his blazer, Tom took one glance at the screen and snickered. You eyed him, guessing that those at the restaurant, had probably realized that you and he, were gone. 

“I’m not going to apologize for ditching them,” You spoke, pausing in consuming your burger as you smiled happily. “I would gladly have a burger over paté any day.” Tom hummed in agreement before raising his phone and snapping a picture of you in the process of chomping on your burger. You blinked and looked at him with a raised eyebrow as he fiddled with his phone some more before returning it to his blazer.

“Vivienne was wondering where we had disappeared to,” Tom explained, then he grinned unapologetically. “I figured a picture would be a better answer than any text.” The cheek of this man! You had to admit to yourself that his cheekiness and carefree (albeit sometimes childish) demeanor, was what drew you in. He was not afraid to have fun, and you loved that.

“So?” Mason asked, fluttering their eyes at Vivienne who was looking at her phone with a raised eyebrow. “Where’d they disappear to?” The other cast members were looking at Vivienne as well after everyone had realized that Tom and Y/N, were nowhere to be seen. With a huff, Vivienne reversed her phone screen to show the picture that Tom had texted back. 

“It seems that they snuck out to get fast food,” Vivienne explained dryly, her lips twitching in amusement. 

“Well, at least he’s not pouting anymore,” Gwendolyn murmured before taking a sip of her wine. “He’s been moping for months. Though I do wonder how they met.” The rest of the cast hummed in agreement. They’d find out by the end of shooting, surely. 

Date Published: 1/5/23

Last Edit: 1/5/23

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[inqilabi]

Hi, I was reading this book called "The revolutionary ideas of Karl Marx" by Alex Callinicos and came across this:

"It was during these terrible years that Helene Demuth, a von Westphalen family servant who had been the Marxes’ maid since 1845, gave birth to an illegitimate son, Frederick, whose father was almost certainly Marx. The scandal was hushed up. Engels agreed to pretend to be the child’s father, only revealing the secret to Eleanor Marx on his deathbed in 1895. The affair revealed that Marx himself was not wholly hostile to the conventions of bourgeois respectability. Indeed, he and Jenny constantly sought to maintain a middle-class household, complete with Helene as loyal retainer. They brought up their surviving daughters, Jenny, Laura and Eleanor, to the extent it was possible, as good bourgeois girls. None of this should come as any surprise, for there is no way in which individuals can escape the pressures of the society in which they live, however much they oppose that society."

So far, this is the only time I've seen a marxist talk about Marx's illegitimate child so I don't think it's untrue? What do you think?

I am only sending you this because I had asked about this a while back and just wanted to share this info I found with you. Sorry if I'm wasting your time and no need to reply if you don't want to. Thanks.

Yes I’ve heard of this and it’s repeated by a couple of UK folks. I’m not sure why its specifically the british left that repeats this, but it is a recurring pattern.

In any case, there is no evidence to substantiate the claim. Helene was in an illegitimate relationship or whatever it would have been called at that time. Her giving birth to a son never raised an eyebrow certainly not for Marx’s adversaries who I’m sure would have had a field day if there was truly something like this to discredit him. So the main or initial source for this claim was 1900 and is shady and was not believed at that time. And certain UK leftist factions reinvigorated this claim in the 60s. Again no evidence so me it’s heresy. It’s possible but can’t speculate like that without evidence. To me it’s more likely that Engels claimed the child to help Helene since I can’t imagine the child would have had a future with no legit father. Helene was with their families for a long time, and even the children kept in touch her. Helene hadn’t named a father on the birth certificate when she gave birth to Henry. Engels also married his wife on the deathbed even though he didn’t believe in marriage (and neither did she but had a change of heart on her deathbed). So to me it just seems like something Engels would do as per his character and people have tried to make it something more in order to discredit Marx’s work or dissuade people from reading him. (Even though if all of this was true, his work stands on its own lol but doesn’t stop people from trying because it’s very good tool to discredit someone, always has been historically)

[citrinekay]

ten first lines

Rules: Share the first line of ten of your most recent fanfics and then tag ten people. Don't have ten? Not to worry, just share what you have.

thanks for tagging me @tiffanylamps! I love the premise of this game because first lines are so important for me. I really try to write a first line that is completely recontextualized or paralleled by the ending, plus draws the reader in. I've written a lot, so I'll be pulling from different fandoms here including Mindhunter, Black Sails, Hannibal, and of course Beyond Evil 💃Let's get started 💃 1. "A day after Bill comes home from Wopsononock Mountain, the trap in the vegetable garden catches a rabid possum." from The Papermill Revivals my massive Mindhunter Prohibition Era AU and what I mean by recontextualizing the beginning. if ykyk 2. "The longboats emerge from the dark roll of the waves like ghosts materializing from nothing." from "trust among thieves" the first installment in a 7-part Silverflint series deconstructing of their relationship through kink over the second half of the show. spoiler alert: the series also ends with Silver again standing on deck watching Flint leave him rather than come back to him 🥺😭 3. "Boot leather clung to the ridge of jagged, charcoal rock, balance defying the magnetic pull of gravity." from The Painted Veil, a post-fall Hannigram fic wherein Will contemplates self-defenestration from a lighthouse. 4. "From a distance, it appears that Manyang hasn’t changed one bit." from the bitter and the sweet - my first jwds fic! spoiler alert: manyang had, in fact, changed 5. "The three buccaneers arrive at Port Royal out of the dusk and rain, though none but the innkeeper pays notice as the chaos around them prattles on." from this stretch of sea and sand, a post-canon Silverflint fic and my take on Hanahaki disease. a personal favorite. i tore my own heart out :( 6. "Seoul reminds Dong-sik of Sang-yeob." from a cruel and futile miracle - jwds post-episode 8 impulsive, drunken blowjobs. now Seoul reminds ds of jw too 😏 7. "Joo-won hears Dong-sik coming up and around the bend to the house before he sees him, the solitary, rhythmic thud of his sneakers striking the pavement at a steady jog the only accompaniment to early morning birdsong." from only our love can suffice aka the hair-washing fic aka Han Joo-won's Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known 8. "Dong-sik’s bathroom smells damp beneath a tang of citrus; the window is cracked to allow in the gust of rain-drenched air since the house had been built before the convention of a ceiling-mounted fan." from fractures, the jwds post- "I will go to hell" moment fic 9. "For years, Dong-sik had not minded living alone." from survivalism. spoiler alert: Dong-sik did, in fact, hate living alone. 10. "The first time Joo-won trespassed into Dong-sik’s basement, Dong-sik had thought, not just a cheeky prince but a reckless one, too." from steel trap teeth aka Joo-won going thru the whole spectrum of human emotions before finally admitting he wants Dong-sik to spank him 🥴

This was fun! I have nobody to tag but I had a ball going back through my old fics to find my favorite first lines! I'm fairly happy with all of these 😊

[spann-stann]

The peaceful, reactionary world of Patchwork is a world populated entirely by rational absolute sovereigns: states which are managed competently and coherently for financial benefit alone. This world can be created on a subset of the entire planet, of course, though then it needs plans for defending itself against the rest of said planet.

Within Patchwork, peace, security and order are most definitely the same thing. Of course, a realm is designed to maintain absolute or near-absolute levels of internal security and order. Society within a Patchwork realm has none of the running sores of the democratic era: there are no slums or dirty streets, no gangs, and no politics. Japan or Singapore would be the closest analogies today, though both of course are quite imperfect.

We can define a rational absolute sovereign, such as a Patchwork realm, as orderly. Such a sovereign is controlled centrally from a single point, by competent administration acting for a purely financial purpose. All its motivations come from its desire to produce return on equity. If predation is more profitable than cooperation, it will predate. If cooperation is more profitable, it will cooperate. (Obviously, the goal is to design a framework in which cooperation is always more profitable.)

(Note that all these criteria remain absolute. The administration cannot be too competent, its purposes cannot be too neutral, its responsiveness to the proprietors too complete, etc., etc.)

Patchwork is at peace if every realm in it is secure: i.e., it is orderly, and it maintains absolute control over its patch. Once again, no realm can ever be too secure, just as peace is always better than war and no society can be too peaceful.

Between realms, our goal is to achieve the same or nearly the same level of stability, without building anything like a centralized authority that would impose it. A centralized or federalized authority with the power of judgment or enforcement is itself the government—and if you try to split judgment and enforcement into competing agencies, you are just asking for trouble.2

Patchwork has no central authority or community of realms. It has conventions, such as rules protecting shared resources (the atmosphere, the oceans and the fish in them, orbital space, etc.) from any abuse that would be collectively uneconomic. Sometimes people need to get together and update these rules, as with any system of rules, but they are only occasional delegates and do not constitute any sort of permanent organization. Sometimes realms must vote on these changes, but this is a rare event indeed. Turning the entire system into One Big State is a failure mode, not a goal.

So, for example, let’s say a coalition of demented realms are taken over by administrations which, for some reason, are affrighted with the perils of global warming. (Stipulating that global warming is a pile of nonsense—if not, substitute something else which is.) They round up a majority and manage to change the rules for the atmosphere, imposing carbon credits or some such absurdity.

Is that something that could happen in an Patchwork world? Sure. What should the realms in the minority do? Go along with it, I’m afraid. This is the level of imperfection I think is acceptable in a design that remains basically peaceful—it is aggression in a sense, but of an inherently unprofitable form.

What we don’t want to see is a situation in which we get civil war, we get predation by some patches on other patches, we get standing internal alliances, we get patron–client relationships, etc., etc., and all the nasty structures that arose under the old international order. A bit of overzealous pollution control is a strain the system can handle.

Our goal is thus to get, at the level of Patchwork as a whole, as close to total security as we can. This is also complete stability. Ideally, politics is at a complete end, as is war as a means of political endeavor. Except through free and peaceful transfers of shares, there should be no further changes in power. Each realm in each patch should last forever. Frankly, if this isn’t world peace, I don’t know what is. I hope it’s not too much peace for anyone.

(Transfers of shares that constitute a merger into bigger and bigger patches, eventually ending in a one-patch world, should be blocked in some way. Since realms do not control their shares, this cannot be done by restricting share transfers. However, it can be done by including a promise of independent ownership in the realm’s resident covenant. Like any other item in the covenant, it can be violated, but usually not profitably.)

The basic secret of inter-realm relations in Patchwork is that it is much, much easier to construct rules for a community of rational or orderly sovereigns than for a community of irrational ones. Therefore, even in a world which contains both rational and irrational sovereigns, it is rational for rational sovereigns to have different rules for other rational sovereigns. This set, whether or not it covers the planet or is even geographically contiguous, constitutes Patchwork. At least if it is working as designed, there should be only one.

Orderly sovereigns deal with each other in a very different way, because orderly sovereigns are sovereigns for whom deterrence always works. Therefore, it is extremely easy to discourage predation: it can be deterred either (a) through collective disapproval—which might become quite costly, especially if the disapproval of other realms leads to the disapproval of one’s present residents, as it almost certainly would; or (b), all else failing, military retaliation.

Military retaliation is important because, in real life, it is rather hard to make war profitable, and rather easy to make it unprofitable. While there is no shortage of rational sovereigns in history, history’s profitable wars are often best explained in terms of irrationality. For example, while Hitler’s conquests of Czechoslovakia, Poland and France may have been in themselves profitable, each of these three countries was more or less a client state of Great Britain, and counted irrationally on British assistance against Germany. As a result, not only did they not defend themselves, they were not prepared to even try to defend themselves.

Among rational sovereigns, the theoretical military confrontations which would otherwise occur between Patchwork realms, and which there is no authority to prevent, will just not happen. Armaments will be gradually de-escalated, each side of each border prepared to inflict an adequate level of pain on the other in the event of any attempt at aggression. At the end of the process, cross-border security cooperation between any two sovereigns will be at the same level as that between any two “countries” in the democratic world today, and security forces will revert to police forces.

Of course, this process of complete de-escalation can only happen in an all-Patchwork world. Irrational sovereigns can be aggressive in arbitrary ways for arbitrarily crazy reasons, and they are not necessarily deterrable. Against the rest of the world, Patchwork is at least expected to stick together, possibly even forming joint security institutions—which are temporary, of course, based on the specific threat.

The general attitude of Patchwork toward the world outside is neutrality. This of course was the staple of American foreign policy for a century, which might well be described as one of the only things Washington has ever done right. No more need be said about this well-known approach, due of course to George Washington himself. The rules of neutrality are well-understood under classical (19th-century) international law, a considerable improvement on its 20th-century successor.

Patchwork will defend itself from the rest of the world, but never attack. It will trade if allowed, not if otherwise. Basically, it will keep its head down and try its best to avoid surrendering sovereignty in any way. It will try to keep its trade balanced, avoid accepting loans in currencies it cannot print, maintain resource, food and energy independence to whatever extent possible, etc., etc., etc. Its advantage is in its vitality and economic efficiency, and it will maintain this.

Especially, each realm and Patchwork as a whole will do their best to avoid any compromise of sovereignty. A slice of sovereignty is what each shareholder in each realm holds, and it is not to be surrendered for any reason. And while there may be a theoretical incentive for individual realms to free-ride in defending the whole, surely the loss of reputation capital exceeds any potential profit to ride freely.

I’m sure that, to many democrats, Patchwork seems like a design for permanent global tyranny. This is just something we’ll have to work through. However, it is indisputable that, at least if it works as planned, Patchwork will produce world peace. And it is certainly reactionary! Just think of it as a cross between the Holy Alliance, the Hanseatic League, and the National Basketball Association—with all the advantages of each, and the downsides of none.

-Mencius Moldbug, "Patchwork: A Political System For the 21st Century"

[jess-moloney]

"Kudos to Jamie for putting up with people like this but the most I could ever see myself doing (personally) is two photos and two autographs."

That is too extreme and borderline stalker behavior. I have seen some of the fans start to do too much. There are people besides Jamie I follow but I don't be doing all of that. Thousands of dollars spent, tattoos, marriage certificates. I feel like Jess standing there taking pictures encourages the behavior. As stated here previously Jamie is a people pleaser. This is especially the case with fans. I do think when fans get like this it is better to be cautious. She needs to be banned and a restraining order. It is just weird behavior to entertain someone who clearly is obsessed with your boyfriend. Her and Jess were wearing the same t-shirts which is creepy. Another creepy thing is the husband. For all we know they may be clout chasing and trying to create some incident for publicity. These are things people do for attention. Jess being his "manager" should have stepped in, got security and had her, her husband escorted out. I don't trust none of these people around Jamie. How am I caring more for his safety as a complete stranger on the internet than his own girlfriend he lives with.

That's the problem with conventions though. Well, not problems really. I do think conventions are great as an idea. I also think the majority of people who attend them do it in a healthy way with a good idea of what they are buying and what experience they are supposed to have. I also think (just like anything done with good intent) that leaves room for bad intentions.

For example, with any given convention I'd say probably 95% of attendees are there to follow the rules and behave as normal. You'll have a small percentage of people there for nefarious reasons and then you'll have the stalkers. Except, since this is presented in a way that it's legitimate business it pretty much is a way to justify or promote stalking as a business model. This is stalking for profit, more or less. These people are encouraged to do this because, hey it's a convention, the celebrities are there on purpose they want to meet fans, it's a completely normal interaction...right?

Do I think people who have met Jamie more than once are necessarily a problem? No. Do I think people who have met him 10 times are necessarily a problem? No. I do think at a certain point it becomes extremely excessive and is a clear sign of something wrong. If you are going to multiple conventions in multiple countries getting multiple photo ops and autographs at each one, that's a point where you're a bit too obsessive.

That doesn't necessarily mean a person who does that is dangerous or will become dangerous but we can't sit here and act like that is completely normal. It's not. Even if I had the money to spend traveling all around the world to see Jamie (or any celebrity) I wouldn't. Not only because I think it would be awkward but I also wonder what I would gain from all those meetings. What the point is. I'd imagine it's the same process every time. Is repeatedly paying a couple hundred dollars to say a few words to him or give him a hug really worth it over and over? I don't see the benefit of it, personally, and even if I did I couldn't justify spending the money on it.

Jess spending any amount of time with that fan, even with Jamie introducing her is really weird. Past a minute of conversation, tops, it seems like, why are you doing this? However, I think that Jess involving herself like this, the fans that do like her (worship her more accurately) believe that interacting with her is akin to interacting with Jamie and it only enhances their "relationship" with him. If they are friends with the girlfriend and she likes them then by some weird extension Jamie will as well.

I don't know what Jess is doing, or thinking, or what she wants out of these interactions other than to be worshipped, praised, and steal his spotlight. Going to so many conventions, spending all her time with him at the conventions, posting photos from the hotel, posing in photos with fans, talking to fans like she has any business doing so. It's not safe for him, it's not safe for her (I may not have a high opinion of her but does she not realize how obsessive these people are? That she's inviting some of these psychos into her life with her interactions?). She's so hungry for fame, attention, and praise from I guess anyone who exists that she has been blinded to what is reasonable, safe, and sane.

[shuckle24]

Hello, this is weird but...

Hi. Hello. Okay, this is weird. You don’t know me, but you just have to trust me here, okay? 

Don’t worry I’m not going to ask something illogical of you. There is no Mission-Impossible type plot and nothing really serious, if I’m being perfectly honest.

It’s just that I had to say hello, I just did. I don’t know the consequences of this, though I’m guessing they're near negligible. I don’t suppose this could result or spark into anything, even if I tip off a domino effect of something along that line. It’s just-

Hold on, let me fix something.

Okay, yes, I’m back. No, this is not me from the future, or anyone from the future. It's nothing that romantic or even exciting. I’m sorry if that is disappointing, but it’s probably for the best.

I just wanted to say hi and, you know, ask about your health and job and stuff. I suppose I already know the answers (I promise I have not been stalking you or anything in that vein; not in the conventional or creepy way, at least. It’s- it’s complicated, but I promise it's not something that would alarm or trigger you in any way, you can trust me).

I’m sorry I went on a tangent there. 

I don’t suppose you wish to continue this conversation further and I completely understand, this is peculiar. I will be brief, I promise. I’m here for just a hello, basically. I don't know how well that explains it, I don’t know how well I can explain it or if it is explainable at all. 

I merely wanted to have a chance encounter with you. Not a calling, not an unexpected visit. Not a how-do-you-do, not a kiss good-bye, and not a checkup on your mental health. I’m not here to give or receive a comforting hug or a word of motivation or even to renew acquaintances. I don’t even wish to have a golden moment or a euphoric reunion. I guess I merely wished to encounter you casually, though I confess this is far from casual. As if we met randomly on the street once when we were both out on trivial errands. You buying socks, me walking back to the office to pick up an envelope that must have slipped out of my pocket while I was tying my shoes.

We both look at each other and smile impulsively. It’s a normal smile, not too wide and not preceded or superseded by memories or emotions. We wave hello and come to an unconscious, mutual agreement on where our relationship stands, friendly yet not obnoxiously close. There are no unnecessary words exchanged, no half-felt inquiries, no forced politeness, and no banal small-talk. We don’t linger to chat nor share bogus dinner invites for propriety’s sake. There are no awkward goodbyes, no mutually uncomfortable moments spent wondering how to bring the encounter to a close. None of us overstay our welcome or attempt to elevate it into something it was never meant to me. We merely greet each other, exchange the exact, appropriate words and phrases that needed to be exchanged, then move on to our separate ways in a fluid, well-choreographed manner. We move on and neither of us thinks it necessary to look back at each other over our shoulders. It’s perfect.

We accomplish our individual tasks with a slight bemusement, subconsciously happy to have co-incidentally met each other. 

It’s a perfect encounter and it stays perfect in our memories. There are no rough edges and no creased pages. It isn’t scrutinised too closely or viewed too frequently to become dull and it isn’t made into something cuter or grander than it was. It remains a happy memory, never forgotten but never really remembered either. 

I suppose that scenario is just too cute to be true. At least, too cute to be executed intentionally. Nonetheless, it is good to see you, and I would still like to know where you got those socks from.

[tressasinterlude]

𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐓 #𝟑: Female Public Figures Dating Men with Questionable Views That Contradict Their Image & Alleged Politics

𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗖𝗟𝗔𝗜𝗠𝗘𝗥: These rant blog posts are really just reflective of my thoughts at the time that I make them and are posted here because I need an outlet to release all of this shit I have going on my busy ass mind. That’s it and that’s all. Now let’s get into it..

This rant was greatly inspired by none other than Ms. Robyn Rihanna “Tell Your Faves To Pull Up [in regards to social injustices directly affecting black people]” Fenty and her openly colorist boyfriend, A$AP Rocky. Aside from the fact that Rihanna tends to slip under the radar and is never held accountable for her problematic ways due to her conventional beauty (i.e. Her heavy usage of anti-Asian slurs, particularly targeted towards Chris Brown’s ex gf, Karrueche), it’s very alarming that a woman who has an entire makeup brand with a campaign based around the inclusivity of ALL black women is publicly flaunting a beau who once said that DSBW do not look good with red lipstick.

And yes, I’m very much aware that Rakim said this tasteless comment over 8 years ago but from the looks of it, not much has really changed with him. Don’t @ me about it neither because I don’t care.

Also peep how he compares a hypothetical darkskinned woman to a man (Wesley Snipes) while trying to explain how his antiblackness isn’t wrong because he said something about white women as well. Gaslighting at its finest. Don’t you just love it! 😀

Furthermore, you would think that somebody of Rihanna’s level of stature would know not to associate themselves with someone as messy as A$AP Rocky but... Stupid is what stupid does, I guess! I can’t even begin to place the blame on him anymore because he’s revealed his true colors and we all have made the deliberate choice to either accept it or don’t and have discontinued all support for him. Unfortunately, misogynoir is never the dealbreaker for most people and the hatred for [dark-skinned] black women is so engrained in society that it’s frowned upon when we publicly speak out against it. Very ass backwards if you ask me but that’s society for you. Now, enough about that. Let’s focus back on Ms. Vita La Coco.

As a woman who claims to be a girl’s girl and is always presenting herself to be someone who is the epitome of a pro-black feminist bad ass, it just makes her alleged activism come off so disingenuous when she’s also laying down with the same man that actively attacks the demographic she’s supposed to be standing in solidarity with. It’s “Black Lives Matter” on the IG posts but your vagina is getting moist for a man who openly stated he doesn’t relate to what goes on in Ferguson because he lives in Soho & Beverly Hills. Ferguson being the exact place where a 17-year-old black boy’s lifeless corpse laid on the hot concrete for FOUR hours after he was murdered by a police officer. He couldn’t 'relate' to the fate of so many black men, women, and children who are murdered or seriously injured from state-sanctioned violence because they’re poor and he is not or so he thought.

But then again, what can I really expect from a woman who identified as being “biracial” until as recent as roughly 6 years ago? What can I really expect from a woman who called Rachel Dolezal a ‘hero’ for cosplaying as a black woman? I’d be lying if I said my expectations for her were high in this regard because sis has always shown us she was lacking in this department. And just for the record, this is not a personal attack on Rihanna at all for the die-hard Navy stans in the back. I admire her latest fashions and bop my head to her music just like the next person but she’s getting the side-eye from me on this one.

Trust and believe me though, she’s not the only woman who I can call out for being a hypocrite. Of course not! This stone can be cast at a few others. So without further ado, why don’t we bring Ms. Kehlani Parrish to the front of the congregation? Prior to Kehlani’s recent declaration of identifying as a lesbian, her last public relationship with a man was with YG. Yes, the same YG who felt it was necessary to say him & Nipsey had ‘pretty light-skinned’ daughters to raise in the middle of his deceased friend’s memorial. By the way, Nipsey’s daughter is not even light (or at least not in my book anyways.) She’s a very deep caramel tone just like her father which makes what he said even more moronic. Yes, the same YG who thought it was clever idea to use slavery as an aesthetic for a music video to a diss track about 6ix9ine. And yes, also the same YG who has derogatory lyrics targeted at bisexual women. Just to end up sweating the red carpets with one. I swear the jokes just continue to write themselves.

This raises the question once more; How high of a pedestal can I really put a multiracial woman who has a song titled ‘N*ggas’ and when received backlash for the song in question, she used the ultimate ‘I’m mixed’ copout while not having a visibly black parent in sight?

It’s also kind of suspicious to me that many were not privy to Kehlani’s secret romance with Victoria Monét (pictured bottom right) until Victoria did an interview with Gay Times revealing she fell in love with a girl but they subsequently broke up because Victoria had a boyfriend and that girl was pregnant in a polyamorous relationship. Fans began to speculate because both Victoria & Kehlani previously candidly spoke about their sexual orientations, Kehlani had just had Adeya and they both were seemingly close. Their short-lived fling would later be confirmed when Victoria released the song ‘Touch Me’ on her last project and Kehlani hopped on the remix. Meanwhile, Kehlani’s relationship with Shaina (pictured bottom left) was very overt and all over her Instagram feed from my recollection. And as you can see, Shaina looks absolutely nothing like Victoria. They look like the complete opposite of eachother in every aspect which is kind of alarming(?) to say the least because why is it that the women she proudly claims as her partners tend to have a very racially ambiguous look such as herself but her ‘sneaky links’ on the other hand are undoubtedly black women? Again, it could just be me jumping conclusions. You know, I’m kinda good for that however something tells me I’m not. Y’all be the judge of the material though.

Last but not least, I’d like to touch on Ms. Raven Tracy very briefly. I was very weary about even including in this segment and if I should just put her in a entirely separate blog post with other women who openly date abusers despite their checkered past (alongside Nicki Minaj & her r*pist murderer of a husband, India Love & Sheck Wes etc.) being this particular blog post was based around the theme of lightskinned/mixed women dating men with extremely problematic views about DSBW. Raven obviously isn’t lightskinned or mixed however I refused to ignore how contradictory her [former] relationship with an alleged (I used this word very loosely and mainly for legality purposes.) serial r*pist while promoting a brand that is all about feminism & body positivity. This also traces back to A$AP Rocky by default being that Ian Connor is his very close friend and he came to Connor’s defense when several women came forward detailing accounts of Connor allegedly s*xually assaulting them. (I wish I could place the actual video of what A$AP Rocky said verbatim but Tumblr only allows one video per blog post. 🙄)

Back in June of this year, Ian & Raven had a back & forth on Twitter after Ian tweeted about Raven “fucking everybody” behind his back. I can only assume that he was alluding to Tori Brixx posting a video of her ex, Rich the Kid & Raven kissing on her story. Disgusted is not even the word to describe my feeling when she admitted she stuck by Ian despite of his many allegations of s*xual abuse because she loved him and her being a empath causes her to want to help everybody. Imagine aiding and abetting a predator and even paying for his bail & legal fees just to turn around and expect sympathy because this same individual cheated on you and exploited you all over Twitter for the public to see. The same man that you would get back with not even a WEEK after the fact & turn off your IG comments because it isn’t our “business” after making it our business...

That being said, I just genuinely want to know: Why do these women completely go against what they stand for in regards to these men? Maybe it was never genuine from jump street and if that’s the case, why jump on the bandwagon of performative activism? Is it because it’s profitable right now? Is it because disrespecting black women is not an immediate death sentence to your careers and more often than not actually helps you advance even further? I guess that’s the billion dollar question that’ll never truly be answered. I just want the world to stop using black women as their stepping stool to get to where they need to go and then discarding of us when we’re no longer beneficial. Support us all the way or don’t support us at all. We deal with enough disrespect as is so we’d appreciate if y’all would stop straddling the fence and partake in your misogynoir out loud if that’s what you choose to do. We have no use for fake allyship and quite frankly, it’s doing more harm for us than good. Please and thank you!

Sincerely,

- 𝙼𝙸𝚂𝚂 𝙴𝙳𝙶𝙰𝚁 𝙰𝙻𝙻𝙴𝙽 𝙷𝙾𝙴. 💋

[randomtasteinfandoms]

crazy golf| evan ‘buck’ buckley

summary| when you blackout on a mini golf course the 118 gets called to the scene

“Your dad?! You have a dad?” You couldn’t help but chuckle at the shock that spills from the speakers of your phone. While you had the day off from the firehouse, your boyfriend Buck, wasn’t so lucky. In fact today was when he worked one of the dreaded 24 hour shifts. “Everyone has a dad, Buck.” You laugh at him sarcastically and you can hear your boyfriend scoff over the other end of the call. “I know that, it’s just that... I don’t know, you never really talked about your dad before.” Now you scoff. “Yeah there isn’t much to tell, he left when I was still really young and our communication was little to none throughout the years.” “So explain to me why you’re meeting with him exactly.” You could hear the voice of Chimney make it’s way into the conversation and you could bet that he and Hen had now gathered around Buck to hear the conversation.. if you’re lucky Bobby and Eddie probably joined as well. 

“I don’t know, he and his new family is in town for vacation so I figured why not meet up with them.” As you make your way through your and buck’s shared house to the living room, where you sit yourself on the couch. “If you guys don’t talk, how does he even know you live in LA?” Hen now spoke, proving you correct. “My mom’s Facebook most likely-” Eddie scoffs at the comment. “Oh cause you and your mom talk so much more Ms. I didn’t tell my mom I moved across country.” “You didn’t tell your own mother you moved across the country?” Now Bobby’s voice comes over the speaker... the gangs all here. “Okay shut up both of you!” “Is it really a good idea, Y/N? I mean, you haven’t seen him in years. Are you sure you want to go alone?” Buck’s voice is finally heard again. You could picture the exact face he was making in that moment. The concerned Buck face. “It’s not like he’s a psychopath, Buckley.” “Y/N’s a big girl, she can handle it.” Bobby joked in the background of the call. “Is it just you and him or are there more people that will be there?” “Most likely him and I, his wife, and her 2 kids.” At that the loud ring of the fire bell ignites. “Y/N, we have to go. I’ll talk to you later, be careful, I love you.” “I love you too and shut up about me being careful, take your own advice.” 

_

“Pants, are you crazy girl? It’s 90 degrees out!” The hounded of your father begins the second you approach the group of them at the entree of the mini golf course. “90 degrees is nothing if she goes into burning buildings with practically a winter jacket on.” The countering voice of the eldest step brother replied to his comment before I could. The eldest, named James, was my favorite of the three kids. Not that I saw much of them, but from what I did, he was always the nicest. Kayla, younger than James but older than myself, was always more bitchy, however we knew each other back when she was a teenager. “You’d be surprised for being a firefighter, putting out fires is only like 2 percent of what I do on a day to day.” 

“Hey-” “Stop worrying she’ll be okay.” Buck practically jumped from his skin when Eddie snatched his phone from his hands. Buck frantically looks around to the other as they unpack the truck from the recent call. Chimney and Hen laugh at him for the way he’s acting. “I’m just checking to be safe!” Buck defends snatching his phone back, checking the screen for any miss calls before sighing and sliding his phone back into his pocket. “You’re worrying about an ex-detective turned firefighter meeting up with her dad... how does Y/N deal with you.” Chimney questioned earning another eye roll from Buck. “You just never know. I know what it’s like to not have a good relationship with your parents. I’d be dying right now if I were in her position.” Buck explains and Hen shows a bit of empathy for the boy. “Y/N isn’t you Buck, she’s not any of us, she’s her. If you hadn’t noticed she doesn’t really hold grudges, she gonna go see him, pretend like nothing happened and then when he disappears again she’ll forget that he even came back into her life.”

“Vending Machine, you want anything?” James questioned as you reach the midway point of the course. “My god, yes please.” You huff, wiping the sweat from your forehead. You join James and Kayla near the machine, taking a seat besides Kayla on her bench. “Water please.” “There is only soda.” James calls back and both girls groan, rolling there eyes. “It’s too hot of soda.” Kayla groaned, you nod in agreement. “Sprite, I guess.” “Coke for me.” You lean your head back to hang in exhaustion. “So.. how has LA been? Any boyfriend?” Kayla starts up conversation, different from how she use to be. “Better than back home and yeah, yeah a boyfriend.” “Boyfriend? What’s his name?” James over hears, turning and handing us our respected can of soda. You open it and down half of it, placing the cold can on your neck before replying, “Buck, well Evan Buckley but we call him Buck. We work together.” They nod, as dad and his wife join us ready to continue the game. You go to stand and suddenly stumble back at the blackness that suddenly clouds your vision. “Whoa, Y/N you okay?” Your dad reaches out to stop you from falling. “Yeah, yeah, just stood up to fast. I’m fine.” You remember, you haven’t eaten since you’ve left work the night prior and water.. well water isn’t exactly your drink of choice. “Are you sure?” James double checks. “Yes I’m fine.”You shrug your dad’s arm from your shoulder and start the small uphill hike to the next hole, however before you can get your bearings you’re suddenly on the ground slumped again the rocks of the golf course, the world around you coming in and out. 

The blaring of the alarm puts everyone in the 118 into motion as the team climbs into the firetruck and ambulance and as the truck pulls into drive, Buck’s phone goes off in his pocket. His sister Maddie. “Maddie what is it? We’re on a call-” “Yeah yeah I know, it’s about the call... it’s Y/N.” 

“LAFD please clear the way.” Bobby, followed by the team arrives onto the scene where James is waiting at the beginning of the course to lead them to the still incoherent Y/N. “What exactly happened?” Bobby questioned, Buck and Eddie standing to each side of him as Chimney and Hen make there way onto the course to evaluate her. “We stopped to get a drink from the vending machine and then when we went to continue she went to walk up the hill and just boom, dropped.” “Her vitals are all good, she’s coming in and out, she’s extremely dehydrated!” Hen calls from their position, Hen and Chimney kneels on the ground besides you. “Y/N!” Buck yells going to take off to join them, however, stopped by both Eddie and Bobby. “Buck stop! Go get water from the stand, Eddie from the ambulance get a gerny, I’ll go get Y/N, Eddie set up under the sprinklers here.” “Bobby, let me go get her-” “Buck follow the order.” With a red face, Buck stomps away from his captain in the direction of the convent stand to get water. Bobby treks his way through the course joining half of his team as well as her father and step mother. Hen has already inserted an IV with water into Y/N arm and slowly was she regaining her consensuses. “Y/N, it’s Bobby we’re going to move you, okay?” “Bobby?” You mumbled as he counted to three, lifting you effortlessly, Hen holding the IV bag as Chimney follows with the medical bag in hand. Bobby knows you’re with them as he can feel you holding onto his neck as he carries you but as your head drops forward, he begins talking. “Y/N talk to me.” “I’m okay.” Your voice trails off, head dropping completely backwards as your arms go slightly limb as they arrive to the beginning of the course again, where Eddie had a gerny, Buck had water and sprinklers were raining water lightly down. “Y/N come on, wake up!” Bobby’s voice gets louder as he sits you down completely out cold. “Y/N!” Buck’s voice calls louder as he shoved the bottle of water into Eddie’s hands. “Y/N!” Buck shakes you, both hands on either side of your face and with the shakening and the sprinkling of water as well as the IV coursing water into your body, you’re eyes flutter open. “Buck, I’m fine.” Buck smiles, sighing in relief, his head dropping forward grateful for you’re eyes opening. “Y/N when was the last time you ate?” Hen’s judgmental voice speaks up as her arms cross. “Um-” You shut your eyes tightly, the exhaustion not leaving your body. “Cap, what did you make for dinner late night?” Scoffs from your team fill the air. “You are an idiot.” Buck mumbles besides you and you lightly push him off. “Eddie, go get get a milkshake or something please.” Bobby orders and Eddie nods rushing off to get it. “Chocolate! She doesn’t like Vanilla!” Buck calls after his teammate, his eyes falling to her family, standing just off to the side watching in silence as she mingles with the team that just saved her. “So... I’m assuming that’s Buck?”

[ruby-whistler]

the difference between static and dynamic characters on the dream smp

Hi, hello, it's Ruby, back with another PSA because this fandom (specifically the people on Twitter) keeps getting worse.

/dsmp /rp

Recently, people started claiming c!Techno was boring because he never had any character development.

Now, this may come as a surprise to some of you, but if you in any capacity decide to study the ins and outs of creative writing, you'd learn that characters don't need to have character development to be compelling, loved by the audience, and have a complex personality.

This is what is called a static character. Not to be confused with flat characters. What's the difference?

Most articles seem to agree on this;

"Static characters should not be confused or mixed up with flat, one-dimensional characters. Though neither changes as the story progresses, if a character remains unchanged, it does not mean that he is one-dimensional like a flat character. A static character can be perfectly interesting, like Sherlock Holmes, who is completely ingenious, eccentric, and sometimes jerky. He never changes, but the audience still loves him. Thus, a static character could be the protagonist too, and a flat character, on the other hand, only plays a side role in the story." - ( link to definition )

Static characters are ones that don't experience any personal growth during the span of the story. They're often used in writing, because they're realistic and can be interesting if well-written. This article provides examples such as the aforementioned Sherlock Holmes, Captain America from The Avengers, and TommyInnit from the Drea- [gunshots]

But in all seriousness, c!Tommy is very easily a static character; a lot of the criticism of his character is about the fact that he doesn't change. He does gain experience and new relationships, he does suffer and becomes more and more traumatized, he does make choices out of impulse or emotion, but none of that is character development - he never overcomes his character flaws, including selfishness, stubbornness, and a lack of compassion or empathy for others. And I do not blame him for it as a person, and I do not consider him a badly-written character, even if he's a little frustrating to watch sometimes.

c!Tommy has two main reasons why he remains a static character.

a) he doesn't live in a constructive environment

It is normal for boys Tommy's age to be low on empathy. It's completely normal for them to be chaotic, immature pricks, because that is part of their growth. All of this would be just fine if c!Tommy was growing up in a highschool; however, he in actuality grew up on a land ruled by politics, wars and conflict.

I do not like using the age excuse, because I do not believe it makes his bad choices any more justified, but it's easy to realize why him being in such a position could stunt his personal growth.

At that age, you need guidance, whether it be from teachers, parents, or whatever other figures you're able to find around you. Usually, it is not difficult to find good people to look up to in today's world, but for c!Tommy, that isn't true.

In the pre-L'Manberg, post-Tommy era, there was moderate peace. Yes, there were conflicts, but none of them were damaging in the long term for anyone involved, and they were chaotic scuffles more than fights of ideals.

Once c!Wilbur came along, c!Tommy latched onto him. We all know how that went.

None of the adults Tommy had looked up to were in any capacity helpful to him growing or becoming a better person. He helped lead a revolution to help Wilbur gain power, he was lead to help Wilbur lead and unfair election, and witnessed the breakdown of the man he trusted shortly after. He was subjected to emotional manipulation by Dream, and then came to the wrong person for help. None of these things are reasons for positive change.

b) it's his major character flaw

Even in the few chances he had at genuine change, at forgiveness, at letting go, all provided by the environment or people around him, he didn't take them. Tommy doesn't like change, he fights it, and that is why he always loses. He doesn't want to change for the better, and he despises himself when he changes for the worse.

He looks for peace in a lack of activity, growth, or development. He searches for happiness in not letting go of the past, but hanging onto it for dear life, terrified that the people around him might change because he doesn't want to. And that is why, as long as he keeps this mindset, he'll never find it.

While other characters, such as Tubbo, Dream, Wilbur or Quackity seek to change the world around them, for the better or the worse, to rewind or to progress, and are willing to change themselves accordingly, Tommy does the opposite, because his biggest fear is people drifting apart and leaving him behind.

Let's get back to the point, then; what makes Technoblade a static character, and a good one at that?

His motivation is simple; he is a lawful character who sticks to his morals through thick and thin, follows a strict inner code, and is loyal to people above all.

On top of that, he is given no reason to change his morals.

No one's arguments against c!Techno have ever made much sense, let's be honest, and ever since he'd entered the server, Techno's been proven right over and over and over again.

He saw Wilbur face the consequences of having power over other people and then losing it, seeing the influence of corruption on the man he worked with. He was forced by the government to kill another person, to kill an ally, to kill an innocent. He was betrayed and used by the Pogtopian revolution, which knowingly kept things from Techno and fought to seize power, rather than destroy it. He was unfairly executed without a trial by corrupt politicians just absolutely demolishing the Geneva convention, holy crap people call Techno a war criminal, just in that one stream New L'Manberg commited so many war crimes-

Point stands that people say one thing and then do the other. Talk of freedom and then force people to do things (and no, forcing people not to force other people to do things doesn't count nor does it make Techno a hypocrite, get a better argument). Techno was never manipulated or swayed to someone's side against his ideals because he's not a man of words; he believes in what he sees, not what people tell him, especially since he's been repeatedly lied to.

That is the first thing a good static character needs; a strong motivation. Through everything that's happened, I'd say without a doubt that Technoblade has the strongest motivation out of everyone, which is to emancipate people from the tyranny of their rulers - not just sing about it and then establish a dictatorship - but to in fact do it, no matter the cost.

He's a very Paragon-type character, which is a common type of static; his moral code is too strong to allow emotional change.

Another thing a static character needs is personality. And Techno - if you watch his streams, not just others' perspectives - has a lot of that. From his bond with Phil and Ranboo to fondness of animals to sense of humour, the character is entertaining to watch and follow. You know what to expect of him, you know he won't betray, and that despite the flaws he has he will not let personal issues hold him back. He wins because he trains, and he puts hours into pulling crazy stunts, and he's persistent - it's satisfying for the people watching his perspective to see his efforts pay off.

His interactions with others are characterized by an attempt at kindness, no matter how many times he might fail at separating his personal life from the ideals he's pursuing.

And that is compelling! To draw parallels to Tommy again, the kid has so much personality that other characters could borrow from him and he'd still be fun to watch!

Neither Tommy nor Techno are flat characters, and I think that is the mistake a lot of people make when misinterpreting both the characters; Tommy and Techno are amazing examples of great static characters in fiction, and I'd like to applaud cc!Tommy and cc!Techno for being brilliant writers.

[sweetestlamb]

Let's Play A Love Game

Author's note: this one is rated 😈 so yeah. There was originally more angst in my mind but once I got to that part I was over it lol I'm the worst at angst I much rather make it naughty. It's more rushed than I wanted but I don't really have time to write 10k fics right now. But hopefully soon.

Summary: it's just pretend, right?

She hadn't meant to push the event in the corner of her mind until she forgot about it completely, so much so that when the e-vite showed up in her inbox she stared at it in wide eyed shock not even noticing Mi-Seon creeping up behind her.

"It's already time for that? I usually know it's coming because you start buying expensive dresses you can't afford and crying at your credit card bill. Maybe country life has really changed you hm?"

False. Inaccurate. Utterly wrong to the every core.

She lets out a shrill scream letting her head fall painfully on her desktop.

"I'm an idiot! Just kill me now, I deserve it." She has nothing to wear, okay the mountain of boxes in her living room, bedroom and some hidden in the linen closet beg to defer but none of that is worthy of this event. The annual dentist convention in Seoul, it's a week long getaway. It's meant to be an opportunity to build connections and attend professional learning classes, but that has long been abandoned. Now it is a fashion show and chance to show off your success and this year more than ever she has to impress everyone. They all look down on her and her cute little practice. Those judgemental snarky bitches.

"Do we have anymore patients?" She absently asks her best friend, only friend already getting up and walking away.

"No that was the last one. Do you want to call it a day?" She doesn't give a verbal reply lost in her phone and the disease that is online shopping, in the span of three minutes she has already added seven dresses to her cart.

"Chief Hong is going to have a long day."

It's just as Mi-seon says the next day the nosy know it all shows up glaring at her over the handful of packages in his arms.

"Don't tell me you're doing this again. What more could you possibly have to order? How much things does one woman need?" His voice is an air warmer than the last time they were in this very same position, but she tries not to think too hard about it. Their relationship is too confusing these days, as temperamental as the sea.

"Are delivery men allowed to complain this much when they're doing a job they are getting paid for?" She snarks back, snatching her packages from his arms with a huff. Ignoring the grin on his face as she disappears into her house.

"That better be all you order. I'm not coming back."

He comes back. At least six more trips, more boxes each time on the last day he doesn't simply leave after making his delivery.

"I'm coming in for tea because of you I've been working too hard." She squeaks indignantly as he pushes past her, their shoulders brushing in the tight space of the doorway.

She should wait until she doesn't have an audience but she's too impatient so while he's making the tea in her kitchen (so rude and intrusive), she starts to open a few boxes pulling out the contents. Dresses, blouses, shirts, hair accessories, lipsticks in all shades and hues, and of course shoes; heels, flats and everything in between.

"Your house looks like a department store." She jumps at his voice glancing up at him, almost laughing at the hedgehog mug that he's drinking out of that Mi-seon gave her as a joke. Leave it to him to pick the most ridiculous mug.

"Hurry up and go so I can try everything on." She starts to take the objects out and organize them, putting together possible outfits lazily.

"Why not have a fashion show?" He slurps loudly at the tea, sighing and smiling down at the warm beverage. Acting like he's never had tea before, such a plebian.

"A fashion show?"

"Yeah, model all that", he motions to the new boxes littering her bedroom floor, "and I'll let you know what looks good."

She scoffs, loudly looking at his lackluster outfit; a simple white tee tucked into dark cargo pants with suspenders.

"What do you know about fashion?" She replies meanly, despite the little voice in her mind that reminds her that while his outfits are more practical than fashionable there is something distracting about the way his shoulders fill out his shirts and the way his long legs sit in his pants.

He shrugs looking down at himself, "I'm the town handy man I have no need to look good. But I'm still a man I can tell you what I think looks good on a woman."

Oh. It's a nonchalant statement said with no real heat but the implications make her skin warm up, she's never once thought that he saw her as a woman; nor considered looking at him like a man. (Lies.)

"I--why woul--why?" She stutters through an answer, tongue heavy in her mouth. He looks back nonplussed, sitting down pointedly on her couch.

"Never took you for the shy kind. You growing bashful now Ms. Dentist?" His eyes twinkle with mischief and she knows that she's being played but she wants nothing more than to wipe that smug look off his face. Slamming her room door, she pulls off her casual house clothes and grabs the first thing that catches her attention- a buttery yellow dress that grazes her knee, pairing them with white heels and a high messy bun. A swipe of lip tint completes the look and she confidently opens her room door.

Du-sik is staring aimlessly at his phone and doesn't notice her reappearance at first, so she coughs loudly folding her arms and when his eyes land on her, a chill runs down her spine at the look that lands on her body. It's been a long time since a man looked at her in this way, his eyes are undressing her even though he was the one who implored her to dress up in the first place. She hates it. At least she should hate it. But she can't ignore the satisfaction that washes over her at his dumbfounded look, that smug look obliterated by her very first look.

"Well?" She pushes harder, twirling to give him the full look. His gasp is loud behind her, she knows exactly why. The deep revealing plunge that travels all the way to the small of her back. There's no way she would wear this to the convention much too suggestive but that's her business.

"Wher-" his voice cracks and this time she can't contain her smile, dimples flashing now at her clear affect on him, clearing his throat he tries again, "Where exactly are you going again?"

She hums turning back around, gleeful at the vibrant blush on his cheeks. So he is just a man after all.

"A dentist convention." She answers cheekily and he guffaws loudly, eyes narrowing at her like he knows exactly what she's trying to do. They stare at each other for a long moment and she ultimately breaks the stand still, realizing what's happening. It feels a lot like flirting.

Collecting herself, she barrels back into the room.

"What the hell are you doing?" She whispers to her reflection, face too flushed for her liking.

A hard knock at the door pulls her from her self chastisement, "You didn't even wait for my rating."

She sighs loudly covering her face in embarrassment at her own action. She doesn't even have alcohol to blame this time.

"I don't care. This was stupid, let's stop."

Of course he ignores her.

"I liked it. But it's too...sexy for convention. You should wear that for someone special. I doubt anyone with a beating heart would be able to resist you."

What the fuck.

This isn't who they are, when did they become comfortable enough for conversations like this? They despised each other, right? Confused and annoyingly flattered, she peels the dress off her body trying her hardest not to think about the fact that only a door separates him and her naked body.

"I would love to see the others. But I have to go, but if you want my opinion. Red is definitely your color."

"What?" She replies, but she can hear the too loud click of the front opening and then closing and just as capriciously as he arrived, he leaves. 

Burying something that feels a lot like disappointment she flops onto her bed, head fuzzy like its been wrapped in cotton.

"What is going on?"

They don't see much of each other the next day and it's unusual given how much they see each other on a regular basis but she refuses to think about it or even consider that he's avoiding her. He's just busy and she doesn't care anyway, they have nothing to do with each other.

The convention is in two days now, she has her overnight bag packed with all her new purchases and the messages have been pouring in their group chat. She's mostly chosen to ignore them but on a whim she decides to check what they're so excited about, only to feel her stomach drop.

Why isn't Hye Jin answering?

Maybe she's busy with her mystery man 😉

Oh! She has to bring him, we need to interrogate him!

Yoon Hye Jin don't pretend you don't see these messages!!

That she had forgotten about.

"Why did you tell them that he's interested in you? Has living here altered your brain, you idiot." She berates herself.

"Who's interested in you? Why are you an idiot?" Mi-seon looks curious from the doorway, without waiting for an invitation she hops onto the bed with two cans of beer. She grabs one, drinking it in a flash.

"Oh it's that kind of night." Mi-seon says excitedly running to grab more beers.

"So let me get this straight, you told them that Chief Hong is interested in you and that he's been chasing you but you're not interested?"

She nods meekly, wishing the floor would swallow her up.

"Why did you lie?"

That's the brunt of the issue, she's a liar. She should have sent her initial message and told them that there was nothing between them but how could she when they were all calling him handsome and acting like she finally did something right? She'd spent that entire dinner feeling like her teenage self on the outside looking in, wanting nothing more than to be someone worthy of being included.

"I know I should have told the truth."

"Yes, you should have told them that you're interested in him too."

Huh.

Time stops as she processes the words that her best friend just uttered. There is static in her head as she tries to make sense of it.

"What are you talking about?"

Mi-seon looks at her unimpressed.

"You can both keep lying to yourself but the rest of us aren't as stupid. You're both interested in each other. It's mutual."

She wants to ardently deny the accusation but the words are caught in her throat and all she can manage are refusing sounds.

"You've been wearing red all week." Mi-seon says accusingly and she jumps up in huff, "So what? I'm allowed to wear colors!"

"You hate wearing red. You said it makes your skin look too pale. You hardly ever wear it. So color me surprised when I learned that red is the favorite color of a certain part timer."

That damn town chat. There has to be a way to get Mi-seon out of it. Maybe it was a mistake letting her live here. She was learning too much.

"Don't even bother to deny it. I won't believe anything you say. But I think you should ask him to go with you, you'll get some time alone to figure this out."

There's nothing to figure out. They are..... acquaintances who can admit that the other is vaguely attractive at times. His face isn't all that bad and she's pretty, so it's natural that there is tension at times, like he said they were still humans.

So she doesn't tell him about her fib, pretending everything is fine until it's the day of the convention and her anxiety has all but smothered her and her hands have a slight tremble in them as she starts to drive.

"It's going to be fine. Everything will be okay." She doesn't believe a word she's saying to herself, her heart is thumping in her heaving chest. She doesn't want to go alone. Convincing Mi-seon to leave was a failed endeavour, her and that police officer becoming inseparable. She knew what that smile meant when her best friend had realized that she would have the house to herself. She could barely get a word in as Mi-seon started frantically shaving her legs then pushed her out of the bathroom to "shave her wild cat".

With a sigh she starts driving, the car too quiet despite what she'd told Du-Sik and the Gongjin grannies. Uncharacteristically she turns on the radio, kpop blaring from the speakers. She recognizes the tune, never before has something as mundane as butter seemed so interesting but the kitchen essential was given new life by the song. She bops her head to the catchy beat, trying to ignore the fact that she's driving to the lion's den.

Some time later, she pulls into the hotel a valet already coming over to get her car. Grabbing her overnight bag, she exits the car handing her keys to the waiting hands of the valet.

Everyone is here and none of them had come alone, she was the only one without a plus one. They haven't noticed her yet so she watches as they all laugh at a joke she can't hear, unnecessarily stroking at their husband's chests as if to show off their exorbitantly priced wedding rings. Everything was always a competition here.

She shouldn't have come. Their was nothing about her life that they would be envious of. She was going to make a fool of herself. Impulsively she starts stepping back but it's too late, Hong In-A spots her and points her out and immediately all eyes are on her, they all start walking over to her and she wants nothing more than to run far, far away. Get on a bus and go to the beach and never see any of them ever again. But she's no longer a child, no longer that scared little girl; worked too hard to shed that skin.

Fortifying herself she puts on a fake smile. Ready for war.

"Hye-Jin ah, there you are. We were beginning to think you wouldn't come. You never responded in the group chat." Ye-Ri states with an attitude, looking around her as if searching for someone and eyes brightening when she sees no one. "Did you come alone?" This makes all of them perk up, looking around like chickens with their heads clucking. She swallows the shame the question elicits, "Who would I be with? I told you in already, it's not like that."

They all look at her with pity, it makes her want to slap them all across the face. Who were they to make her feel like shit, she didn't need anyone that didn't make her pathetic.

Finally one of the husbands cracks the awkward tension by introducing himself, she tries her best to ignore the pervasive way his eyes run down her body. Instinctively she crosses her arms, feeling naked under his stare. Nobody else notices her discomfort and after all the introductions, they all walk away as if she's no longer worth their time.

Lump in her throat she walks into the hotel, determined not to show them that they've gotten under her skin.

There's a scheduled lunch and she tries to find a new table but Sung-Mi waves her over and she doesn't see anyone else she recognizes or wants to sit with.

He hadn't been wrong, she has no friends besides Mi-seon.

"You were looking around, were you looking for someone? Are we not good enough to sit with?" The question is asked with a bite and sneer as if the idea is laughable that she would ever be better than any of them.

She swallows her pride, "No nothing like that. I was merely looking around."

Sung-Mi looks satisfied as if putting her in her place has righted her world.

They begin a conversation that completely excludes her, regaling drama that she knows nothing about and doing nothing to bring her up to date or invite her to join. It's the polar opposite of her experience in the countryside and with shocking clarity she realizes that she wishes she were there, it's only been a few hours but she misses it. Nobody looks down on her there, no usually she's the only doing that she notes with shame.

"I'll find the restroom." She says to no one because none of them are paying her any mind except the husband with the wandering eyes and she would much rather not have that attention.

Thankfully the bathroom is empty and she has to stop herself from splashing water on her face, her make-up was done perfectly it would be a waste to ruin it. Pushing her hair behind her ears she takes a deep breath and then another until her head is clearer, the noise lessening.

"It's only a day and a night. You've suffered far worst."

With that lacking pep talk she exits the bathroom, almost colliding into a wall. Wait, no it's just a person- a chest to be specific. She looks up ready to apologize when a familiar face stops her in her tracks.

"What are you doing here?" She stares flabbergasted at him, more dressed up than she's ever seen him. In a white suit with a white vest, the tee-shirt peeking under the only thing that feels like him to her. And his white sneakers. She can't hide her surprise at his sudden appearance and without thinking she starts to pull him to the side, to avoid being seen but she's not fast enough and soon they are swarmed by her colleagues, before she even has a chance to talk to him.

"Aren't you the man from the picture?" Yoo-Jin asks blushing way too much for a married woman if her husband's cold stare means anything.

"The picture?" Du-sik replies, clearly confused.

"You're the guy that's chasing after her. She told us that you liked her and you were courting her." Sung-Mi answers for her, she wants to vanish. It would be better if she had never existed. Even non-existence would be better than this embarrassing moment. "I got a picture of you two last time, when you followed her."

His eyes ping-pong between the group and her and she realizes this is his chance to ruin her. After everything she's done, all her rude comments and snobby remarks about the town and people he cares for so much, this is his chance for revenge. He can laugh and deny any feelings for her, tell them all that she's a liar and he's never been interested in her, not even once. This is what is going to happen. She prepares herself for the fall out, surely after this she won't be able to show her face in Seoul again.

He starts to laugh and her stomach tightens, her palms are so sweaty.

Here it goes.

"Oh I guess she wanted to keep me a secret."

Wait. What. That doesn't sound like denial.

"We're together now. I finally bulldozed those walls and made her mine. Nice to meet you all I'm Hong Du-sik, Hye-Jin ah's boyfriend."

Her eyes widen as he bows and starts to shake hands with the husbands, the one that stared at her looking disappointed. Their handshake goes on for a second too long, eventually with the latter pulling away with a pained look. She's too confused to consider what that means.

"And you were so cold earlier saying you had no one. Did you want to make a fool of us?"

He answers for her, "It's nothing like that, my honey is still getting used to us. I'm sorry I'm so late I had something to take care of."

Her head is spinning too fast to keep up with everything happening and she's grateful when he excuses them and guides her outside with a large hand on her hip.

Fresh air is much appreciated and she takes in huge heaps of it as soon as they're free.

Then reality crashes down on her.

He knows about her lying.

He had called her bluff.

But he didn't out her.

"Why didn't you tell them the truth?" She finally manages to say, head still reeling.

But instead of answering he's staring at her legs, then slowly his eyes swivel upward cross her thighs curving around her hips, past her breasts (a bit too slow there) before moving to her collar and settling on her face.

"You look great."

She feels the heat rushing to her face. What was he doing to her?

It hadn't been in purpose but she finds herself in red again, an a line dress with criss crossing straps over her shoulder and a middle slit. It was conservative without being too formal or professional. She'd felt comfortable in it but now seeing that look on his face, comfort is the last thing she feels.

He was distracting her and she couldn't afford that with those harpies inside waiting for her downfall. They needed to get back on track.

"What are you doing here?" She tries again, but he responds with his own question, "Why did you tell them that I was chasing you?"

"It was a mistake. They thought we were together and I just....said that for no reason." It's half the truth.

"They don't seem like your friends. You looked like you needed someone on your side, so I just found myself saying we were together for no reason."

She looks at him blankly, heart pounding now. In her moment of weakness instead of kicking her, he'd lended a helping hand. What kind of person did it make her for expecting the former?

"So what now?" She asks still in disbelief that he's here and that he'd told people that there were dating, she would be angry and offended later that they had readily believed it. Perhaps it didn't seem too farfetched now with him looking like that right now.

"Well, don't look but they're watching us through the glass."

This time she finds herself turning to look and he's the one that has to stop her, he does so by suddenly grabbing her hand and tugging her into his body. She squeaks at the collision. Leaning down so his lips are level with her ear, he speaks, "We can give them a show. I'm happy to be your pretend boyfriend."

Why?

She yearns to ask him why he's willing to go this far for her? Why was he even here when she had never told him where the convention was taking place? But his words were hot on her ear and she's tired of being their source of entertainment so she nods looking up at him, "Just this once. I'm going to lean on you. Let me borrow your eraser and copy your homework."

He stares before a blinding smile graces his handsome face.

"Let's go then." His hand is heavy on her waist as he walks back towards the hotel, taking his role very seriously it seems.

He fits in perfectly. Able to talk about a plethora of topics to anyone he's introduced to and even she's impressed by him. Be it travel, philosophy or poetry he seems well versed in everything things that even she is ignorant to and it makes her regret the way she looked down on him before, he was anything but a country bumpkin.

She leaves him to his conversation to get a drink, a whiskey on the rocks. Needing something hard tonight.

Not that. Down brain.

"Yoon Hye Jin? I would recognize that face anywhere."

Twisting to face the voice, she sees a familiar face- old classmate. Rung Do-Bae, they weren't anything more than classmates despite his many, many attempts.

His eyes sweep over her hungrily. She swallows her drink, painting on a shallow smile.

"Sunbae, how nice to see you here."

Invading her space he grabs her hand, "There is no need for such formalities. You can just call me by my name, Hye Jin ah."

As if she ever would.

Gently she tries to extract her hand but he won't let go and she doesn't want to make a scene.

Suddenly she's warmed by a body pressing into her, she knows who it is without even looking, her body relaxes immediately.

"Sorry I got lost in conversation honey. Who might this be? Another friend of yours?" He thrusts his right hand out and Do-Bae has no choice but to release her hand to return his handshake. Scarily enough she's starting to become used to his nickname, barely reacting to him using it again.

"Yes, this is my sunbae from school. Sunbae this is Hong Du Sik my....."

She knows that this is all an act, they were doing this to help her but she can't bring her tongue to form around the word, boyfriend.

"Her boyfriend." He finishes for her, pulling her tighter to his body.

But Do-Bae looks suspicious now.

"Boyfriend? I thought you were still single. You never changed your status on SNS. I've checked."

"Why are you so curious about that?" Du-sik challenges in return, doing a great job of sounding like a jealous boyfriend. She's almost even convinced.

"Hye Jin ah and I have always had a very special relationship. Beyond that of a hoobae and sunbae. Isn't that right?" He directs the last bit to her and she feels Du-sik stiffen next to her, seemingly believing these lies. So she clears that up.

"I have no idea what you're referring to honestly. We have never had anything that would constitute as a "special" relationship. I would appreciate if you didn't spread such lies, especially to my boyfriend. Enjoy the rest of your night."

She tugs Du-sik away, not waiting for a reply from the other man. The conversation was over anyway.

When they get far enough he speaks, "You have a lot of admirers."

She raises an eyebrow at the non-sequitur.

"Are you surprised?"

He brushes a hand across her cheek, making her freeze.

"No. It makes sense."

She blinks slowly before laughing, it sounds fake even to her ears.

"You should have been an actor. Your acting skills are incredible." He doesn't laugh, doesn't move before they're pulled into another conversation and she tries not to think about how tightly his body is pressed against her own.

"How is he in bed? He hasn't left you alone all day, I bet it's passionate." As soon as lunch had ended they had invited her to a spa, she'd considered saying no but she knew they would talk about her even if she wasn't there so it was best to at least know what they were saying.

Du-sik looked sad to see her go, but she told herself that she wasn't good at reading his faces. They hardly knew each other.

"I can't remember the last time I had a passionate night of sex. Kids and a full time job, leave no time for that. I'm pretty sure he's cheating on me and I'm too tired to even care." Sung-Mi confesses and she's shocked when the others nod in agreement instead of threatening to castrate him, as she'd done when Mi-seon told her about her ex boyfriend cheating.

"I have no complaints. He's... attentive. He's always touching me and pushing his way into my space. He's gentle but passionate, and I like...that he's so much bigger than me." She knows she should stop, this is definitely taking the lies too far. But that night bleeds into her thoughts, making everything she's saying feel true. He'd been so gentle with her, those huge hands cupping her face. She wondered how they would feel on other parts of her body.

"Damn. Look at you getting horny just from remembering. I'm so jealous."

Jealous. There were envious of her, it was all she'd been hoping for but the happiness she expected to erupt never comes. Instead she feels cheap, like she'd used Du-sik for her own benefit. She had tainted that night. This wasn't what she wanted.

As the day had gone on she found herself looking at him too much, he'd come all the way just for her and regardless of her brain trying to minimize that, it was huge. He hated snobby people like them who based a person's worth in their monetary success and yet he put on a smile and chatted with everyone, letting them mock his way of life and call people like him useless dreamers. All while she did nothing to defend him and drank wine, happy that they were being accepted.

He was the perfect gentleman all day and he was getting nothing in return for this. It was all just to help her.

Would a friend truly go this far to help? Was she being naive or was it like Mi-seon said, was she lying to herself?

"I'm such an idiot."

Without another word, she flees the sauna rushing to the locker room and changing back into her clothes. Nobody follows her because they aren't her friends. Why had she wasted so much time trying to impress these people who aren't even truly happy in their own lives?

The drive back is long, and she doesn't know what she's going to say but she knows that she's tired of being scared.

Leaving the key in the car she rushes past the valet, into the hotel elevator pressing their floor and waiting impatiently.

It takes three tries to get into their hotel room but once the door opens, he's right there. Sitting in the seat by the window reading a book.

"You're back early. I thought you would be gone until three?" He looks up, dog earring his book and giving her his full attention. Her heart skips a beat.

"Why did you agree to do this for me? Why go through all this trouble for me?"

It's the same question he's been asking himself since he first met her. Why was he was interested in her and why did he keep wanting to save her?

It was the desire that led to him being here.

He had accidentally overhead Mi-seon talking to Eun Chol about being worried about her, the convention was overnight and everyone would be bringing someone and she'd be all alone. The thought of her alone and isolated, made him race to her without a plan. Only stopping at a store to buy his outfit so he would fit in with her crowd, he'd spent more in that shop then he usually did in a week. But it was worth it for her.

It was a miracle that she hadn't questioned his presence more, he knew it was shameless and deceiving but none of this felt like pretending to him. His jealousy had been real, he'd had to strangle the urge to kick the pervert husband with the wandering eyes and then the insistent sunbae who wouldn't take a hint. She was a vision in the red dress and it wasn't a surprise that men found her enchanting, he just didn't like them looking at her. But she wasn't his, never would be because he couldn't confess.

They weren't right for each other.

"Do you like me?"

That question again. Last time he had laughed it off, called it absurd. But it wasn't. Not liking her would have been absurd.

"I don't know why you're asking me that."

"Because I'm tired of us lying to ourselves. Don't laugh and don't you dare say it's absurd again."

He can't respond, he's stuck on the word "us". It wasn't just him, they were an us?

Hearing that gives him courage he had long thought had been most forever.

"I wasn't pretending today. Nothing was fake to me, I meant it all." It's terrifying, unchartered land for them and he waits to see which one of them will chicken out first. It's sure to happen.

"I'm going to kiss you." She says instead of running like he expected and secretly wished for.

And then she's crossing the room and leaning down to grab his face, she watches him giving him a chance to pull away but he does the opposite, this time he meeting her half way. As soon as their lips meet the kiss is already too much, she's sliding into his lap and he wraps his arms around her tugging her closer until their chests are squished together.

He hasn't kissed anyone like this in a long time.

Hasn't been this close to losing control in a longer time.

"You're dangerous." He whispers into her mouth and she giggles at the statement, wiggling in his arms and rolling into him forcing a punched out groan from his lips.

Carefully he lifts her shirt watching her face closely for any signs that she wants to stop but finding nothing but her palpable lust.

Her skin is unbelievably smooth and soft and he can't stop himself from stroking her, rubbing at her back his hands resting right above her butt.

"How long have you felt this way?" She asks softly seductively nipping at his neck and running a hand over his shirt to caress his stomach, he physically aches for her.

"I wanted you the moment I saw you. But I didn't feel this until you convinced grandma to get her implants. That was when it became more for me."

She looks surprised and he is too, that they're speaking so candidly about feelings they've always denied.

"What about you?"

She stops licking at his neck to look him in the eyes. He's nervous to hear her reply.

"I.... don't know."

He tries to hide his disappointment. Maybe she was starting to retreat back into her shell. Maybe he shouldn't have been so honest.

He's about to untangle them when she continues, "It wasn't at first sight but one day I found myself looking for you. Seeing you become the best part of my day, I started to count on you to be there for me. To expect it. Just like this, I've been scared to lean on anyone until I met you."

Now that's a confession.

Impulsively he stands with her still on his lap, forcing her to to latch onto him so she doesn't tumble to the floor. Not that this would ever happen because he would never let her fall.

"I could have fell!" She cries, clinging to his shoulders and wrapping her legs around his waist. Her half naked bra clad body so close to him is causing another biological crisis in his pants.

Walking to the large bed in the middle of the room he falls backwards, enjoying the view of her on top of him a little too much.

It's all probably too soon and they should probably slow down, but his body is strumming and he wants nothing more than to break her apart.

"I'm all sweaty. I should take a shower."

Instantly an image of her wet and naked under the downpour of a shower flashes in his mind and he has to twist away from her.

"Pervert." She accuses but he can hear how satisfied she is with his reaction. Damn tease.

"Do you want to join me?" She teases some more, having fun now that she knows her power over him.

He looks at her helplessly.

"Are you having fun? Remember what I told you before? I'm still a guy. You're sitting here in your bra taunting me, do you think I'm that much of a good guy? Do you think I don't want to throw you down, rip your clothes off and eat you alive? I'm so hard right now just seeing you naked would be enough to push me over the edge. So don't make propositions you can't follow through on."

She looks dizzy from his words, eyes hooded and glossy. He watches her gulp and then stagger off to the bathroom, without a word to him. It's probably for the best, everything is too charged right now.

A shower for her and many glasses of water for him later, she's back and it's almost time for dinner.

"I think they said dinner starts at 6. Should we head down?"

She glances at him, while opening her bag and pulling out skin creams and some fuzzy socks.

"Would you be opposed to ordering room service and staying here?"

It's the best offer he's heard all day, only second to her asking if he wanted to join her in the shower.

"What about your colleagues?" He asks to make certain that she's really okay with this.

"What about them?" She replies with a shrug and he grins picking up the room service menu.

They order too much food and not enough alcohol but neither of them want to forget this night. She tells him stories about her time in dental school and he's happy to get to know her better, chuckling at the funny stories and commiserating at the sad ones.

Before he knows it night has fallen.

And he realizes that they'll be sharing a bed. Unless she wants him to sleep on the couch.

She's wearing a big shirt and loose shorts and he still can't believe he gets to see her like this.

"Are you coming to bed?" She's already getting under the sheet and that answers his question, this is really happening. He starts to follow her lead, getting under the sheets but keeping a respectable distance between them.

"I'm cold." She announces suddenly and he starts to look for a thermostat in the room or an extra blanket, before realizing that she's looking at him over her shoulder, he stares back confused before she lifts an eyebrow and oh, he gets it. Carefully moving closer he feels her warmth surround him as they meet, forth to back.

"Took you long enough." She grumbles, pulling his arm over here body and settling back into him moving until she's comfortable.

She's so close and warm and her smell is all around him and he feels his restraint dissolving and when she presses back into him, her hip rubbing against his crotch he bites down on his bottom lip.

It's too much for him to resist and without warning or preamble, he's turning her to face him and swallowing her moan of surprise eagerly. He grabs her head firmly holding her in place and slips his tongue into her open mouth, her unique taste exploding on his taste buds. He's hungry for more. So he starts to tug down her shorts, heart beat thundering in his groin. She kicks the shorts away, and he groans at the sight of her panties she was trying to kill him, he was certain.

"You're the devil." He chokes out staring at red lace, he'll never be able to see the color again without getting a raging hard on.

"You haven't seen anything yet. Honey." The word drips from her tongue just like the real thing.

Forgetting all reason and logics he lunges at her, devouring her mouth and sticking his hand in her panties. She's so warm and fuck, wet drenching his fingers.

Simultaneously he thrusts his tongue into her mouth and his fingers in her wet folds, groaning as she melts like butter under his touch. There's no resistance, as he plunges two fingers inside her experimentally before picking up his place when she clutches onto him and grinds back on his fingers, begging the whole time.

"More, more, please!"

As if he could ever deny her anything, with one hand he grabs her ass and the other he thrusts into her opening over and over until her voice gets breathy and she starts to stutter, squirming wildly in his arms and he knows exactly what's coming: the beautiful end. So without warning he pulls back the sheet and slithers down her body, throwing her legs around his head and pushing his tongue in to the brim, hungrily drinking at her until she shakes and combusts in his arms. Sweet on his tongue, he swallows it all greedily.

He strokes her as she recovers from her high, climbing back up her body. So much for taking things slow, but he can't even think about regretting it when he sees the blissed out look on her face. He wants to imprint it in his mind. Nobody else will ever get to see this face but him.

"It's your turn." She says sounding loopy like she's drunk and he laughs as she reaches for the tent in his pants but misses his bulge and instead falls into him.

"You're tired. Go to sleep. That was enough for me, seeing you like that fulfilled every fantasy I've had. "

He truly means it. He's a giver. And it's not like he can't tug one out later in the bathroom with her face and moans playing on repeat in his brain.

She starts to argue, but her phone vibrating on the nightstand distracts her. Reaching over she picks it up before chuckling and flopping back into the bed.

"What?" He asks curious, jealous of whoever is making her smile like that.

Ignorant to his inner thoughts, she thrusts her phone into his face. The room is so dark it takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the bright lighting of the phone, but once he can see he reads the message on her phone and starts to laugh too.

"Dusik is missing! Nobody has seen him all day!! We started a search party."

[themaribatpit]

Jasonette July Day 18: Design

Written by: The Maribat Pit  @jasonette-july-event Prompt: Design Rated: G  Jason was sitting calmly at the dining table at his apartment, with Tikki and Plagg on either side. All of them were having breakfast, Jason had toast while Tikki and Plagg had a cookie and cheese respectively. As the group were having breakfast on a fine day, Marinette meanwhile was in absolute tatters.

She ran back and forth across their apartment, picking up sketches, grabbing fabric, stuffing completed articles of clothing into a suitcase. In other words, a complete and utter mess. 

“You do know the Gotham Fashion Expo starts this afternoon right? You have a few more hours.” Jason said calmly as he munched on his toast. 

Marinette ran towards him, holding on to her sketchbook with a few pages threatening to fall out. “This is THE Gotham Fashion Expo, some of the world’s greatest fashion designers will be there. I need everything to be perfect.” She then zoomed off to continue her scatterbrained preparations.

“Sheesh, you’d put Flash to shame.” Jason commented. “So are any big name designers attending?” he asked Marinette.

Marinette returned, this time carrying a bolt of cloth. “Mari McCabe is going to be there,” she told him “The Mari McCabe!’ She huffed and ran away again. 

Jason stopped mid bite, he recognised that name. Who knew Vixen would be coming to Gotham to attend a fashion expo?  A sly smile crept onto his face as he took out his phone. Even if he had a rocky relationship with Vixen, he was willing to pull some strings to surprise his little Pixie. 

Marinette was just about finished with her preparations before looking at her watch, she went pale. “Mon dieu, I have to be at the Gotham Convention Hall in an hour.” She sped past Jason and the Kwami carrying a few bags with her to hail a taxi. Jason smirked, as he looked back at his phone. 

At the Gotham Convention Hall, Marinette had set up her own stall, with a hand embroidered sign saying “MDC” on it. She had displayed several articles of clothing and accessories on one side. On the other she had displayed her designs, pages of her sketchbook stuck on a corkboard.    

She was able to get the attention of a few exhibition goers, a couple of them actually asked for her card! Unexpectedly she saw Tim there, he actually placed an order for a new suit. That was a win,  though he wondered aloud why someone who designed for Jagged Stone was given such a small booth. Tim walked off mumbling at how she was too humble for her own good. Marinette appreciated the thought, maybe next year she’ll have a bigger booth.  Other than that, it was a pretty slow day.

She slowly slumped on her stall, grew bored and started playing on her phone. She tried messaging Jason, however he was unresponsive. “Maybe he’s busy,” she thought to herself. 

A voice brought her out of her boredom. “So you’re the famous MDC?” 

Marinette looked up to the source of the voice to see Mari McCabe standing right in front of her, in a magnificent red dress. Marinette stuttered “H-h-hi I’m Marinette.” To her surprise she did not notice that behind Mari was none other than Bruce Wayne and Jason, both in their finest suits. Bruce gave Marinette a gentle smile while Jason had a devilish grin. 

“These dresses look amazing Marinette.” she said as she looked through the various designs she had on display.  Her past designs for Clara Nightingale caught her eye, largely because of the various bright and bold colours she used.  “Here’s my card, it would be great if you could be one of my designers.” Spoke Mari, giving her card to a stunned Marinette.

Mari turned around, her face instantly soured as she looked back at Jason. “I’ve got my eye on you, if you hurt her I will tear you to shreds myself.”, she hissed.

Jason gave her a scout salute and a smile, “Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

Bruce now stepped in between the two, “Now Ms. McCabe, why don't we continue browsing the rest of the show?” Bruce offered his arm, to which Mari took and the two walked away. 

Jason stayed behind and leaned over to Marinette’s stall. Marinette still remained frozen in shock, staring at the business card she had just received with her hands shaking. He tried waving his hands in front of her, but there was no response. 

[seriouslysnape]

Ooh yey requests are open 💕 could you write something where reader is the one to propose to severus instead of the traditional way? With a ring and all?

OH STOP THAT’S SO CUTEEEEEEEEE.

__

Indecent Proposal

Severus Snape x Fem. Reader

A/N: HAHAHA. This gif doesn’t match this one-shot at all, but I thought it was funny out of context.

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 2,511

“If you wish to ever tell me something, I’m here to listen.”

__

Severus knew the moment that he met you that you were the one. It was a sort of sensation that he couldn’t describe. It was like when he laid eyes on you, the final piece of his puzzle of life fell into place, completing a full picture. He knew that his life was fulfilled with you. It wasn’t until your third or fourth week of dating that he began to think about marriage. He spent several days brainstorming over what kind of ring you might like, or what kind of house you’d want to live in once you were wed.

Severus was never one to just jump right into things. He liked to calculate every aspect of his life, weighing all possible options and considering all scenarios. This was no different. Even though he could have very well gotten down on one knee after just a month of dating, he knew that was far too soon for a marriage proposal. There was no way that either of you were ready or prepared to get married yet. Severus, though, was a patient man when it came to you.

He was willing to wait as long as it took.

Fast forward to a year and a half later, Severus was beginning to feel that proposal itch once more. He knew the time was getting right, and he wouldn’t be able to overlook his heart’s wishes much longer. He was ready to spend the rest of his life with you. He wanted his proposal to be nothing short of exemplary. He had already bought a ring about a week ago, one that you had mentioned in passing that you liked. He made sure to make a note of it, going back and purchasing it when you weren’t with him. He had kept it in the box in his pocket ever since, waiting until he felt like the moment was right.

He wanted nothing to be out of place. He wanted every little detail to be exactly to his liking. All of this would take time to plan out, which was why he was planning to propose to you the following week to make sure he was ready beforehand.

However, you had been acting strangely over the last few days. You were jittery, almost nervous around him. When it was just the two of you, he couldn’t help but notice the way your leg bounced anxiously and you couldn’t keep your attention on him for longer than a few passing moments.

He watched how skittish you were during dinner. You couldn’t sit still for the life of you and you weren’t speaking much. When you did speak, your diction was so fast that he could barely keep up with what you were saying. He could tell you were preoccupied with something.

“Are you alright, [Y/N]?” He asked gently, catching your attention.

You visibly jumped in your seat. Your fork spazzed from your hand and hit your plate with a loud clatter, the sound echoing in your ears. He paused hard and stared at you like you were a mad woman. He furrowed his brows in confusion and curiosity.

“Yep!” You squeaked; “I’m fine, I’m great! Why wouldn’t I be alright?” You rocketed off rapidly.

He set his own utensils down, folding his hands and looking harder into you. You were straight as a board as you sat, your shoulders pushed way further back than normal. He was worried that something was bothering you that you weren’t telling him about.

“Darling, you’re so flushed.” He pointed out, looking at how your face looked quite spectral.

You shook your head vigorously, continuing to dig yourself into a deeper hole with your odd behavior.

“I think it’s just hot in here...is it hot in here? I think it’s a little hot in here.” You rambled.

Now he REALLY knew something was up. You always complained about how cold he kept his Hogwarts’ living space. There wasn’t a fire crackling in the fireplace, so there was no way you were overly warm. He didn’t question it, only smiling kindly and standing from his chair. He approached you, putting his hands on the back of your chair to persuade you to get up.

“Why don’t we get out and get some fresh air, yes? We can finish dinner later.” He suggested, taking your clammy hand into his.

He was afraid that maybe you were coming down with something, but you didn’t look or act sickly. He guided you from your chair, leaving a soft kiss to your forehead. He felt your shoulders relax at the motion. You felt a bit comforted for now, his touch putting you at ease.

“Yeah. That’s a good idea.” You said in a more standard tone.

He linked his arm into yours, sweeping you away and outside into the cool evening. It was a beautiful spring night, for there was not a cloud in the steadily darkening sky. The sun had mostly set below the horizon, just a few minutes needed to go by before it was fully dark. You and Severus strolled alongside each other, making small talk as he tried to gauge what had you so uptight.

He never wanted you to be upset. It absolutely broke his heart anytime something was wrong and draining you of any happiness. However, you didn’t seem unhappy or sad. You were simply just nervous about something, but he couldn’t even begin to think of what it could be. He was stumped.

Your hand fiddled in your pocket. Your fingertips clutched the silver, metal ring that was housed there. The material was smooth against your skin as you refused to let it go. You had been holding on to it for at least two weeks now, and the entire time you had been terrified of losing it.

You knew that a woman proposing to a man wasn’t conventional. It was very traditional for the man to propose to the woman with a stunning ring that is supposed to fit perfectly and they’re supposed to cry at the new chapter of their life that’s been opened. You had been through it all in your head already.

Naturally, you had originally wanted Severus to be the one to ask for your hand in marriage. You had been waiting for him to suddenly get on one knee and pull out a ring and ask you to spend forever with him. But the longer you waited, the more impatient you became. With each passing day, you reminded yourself that you weren’t getting any younger, and you wanted to be with him for as long as possible.

That’s when you got the idea.

You could just as easily plan a proposal. You could go out and buy a ring that you knew he’d like. You knew he’d want something private, quiet, and not in front of a crowd of people. That was a win-win, because at least if you were to be mocked for proposing first, it would be just Severus and not a group of others. You felt a little out of your mind for this, but you knew it could be really sweet and romantic. Either way, it wasn’t really about the proposal.

It was about spending forever with the one you loved the most.

At one point, he stopped walking with you. You were just faintly illuminated by the light of the moon far above your heads. He was taking in how pretty you were. In every moment of every day, you were the most beautiful woman in the world. He had never felt so fortunate to have such a stunning human being in his life. A charming, alluring woman with an even purer heart and soul.

“My beautiful girl,” He said, cupping the side of your face and stroking his cheek with his thumb. Your heart beat began to quicken. You knew this was the moment; “If you wish to ever tell me something, I’m here to listen.”

You were trying to disregard how shaky your breathing was every time you inhaled. You weren’t sure how he’d react to this, but either way you knew he’d say yes. Even then, you still couldn’t shake off the edgy feeling in your gut.

“Yeah, of course.” You said with an encouraging smile.

“If something has you disturbed, then I want to help you if I can. I don’t want you to believe that you have to deal with things on your own. I’m here for you.” He claimed.

This was one of the many reasons you loved him. He was always in your corner, and he never let you forget it. He would walk through fire for you. He’d do anything as long as it meant that you were happy. Your happiness topped anything else in his life. You were all that mattered.

“It’s nothing like that, S. I’ve just had something on my mind lately.” You explained.

As secure as Severus felt in your relationship, he still felt a drop in his chest. After saying that and the way you had been acting, he thought that maybe you were thinking of ending this. His head and heart were both getting ready to fight for you if you were. He couldn’t just let you walk out of his life, despite his internal panic, he remained level headed.

“Do you wish to talk about it?” He asked, bringing one of your hands to his lips and leaving a soft kiss. He brought your hand to his chest, just in case this was the last time he’d ever feel you.

If you had known that’s what he was thinking, you’d probably start crying. Severus was so used to rejection and disappointment in his life, before he met you. He still shrank into his old thinking ways, preparing for the worst every time he thought something was going wrong.

But he didn’t know that his life was about to get even better than it was.

This was it. You knew you could do it. With your other hand, you fished in your pocket for the ring as you replied.

“Well, yes...but there’s something I want to ask you.” You said, successfully retrieving the ring and holding it to where he could see it.

He eyed the silver ring, still holding your other hand to him. His other hand fell from your face as he stared blankly at the handsome piece of jewelry in your palm. He looked to you for an explanation, relieved now that you probably weren’t breaking up with him based on the blinding grin on your face.

“Severus Snape,” You said, almost as a whisper; “Will you marry me?”

His entire nervous system shut down for a millisecond and restarted. He felt a rush of static and something else that even he couldn’t identify.

Now, Severus knew there were a million different ways to react to this. Undoubtedly, the first thought that came to his head when he came to the realization that you were proposing was that you had officially lost your marbles. He had always envisioned himself being the one to ask you to marry him, not the other way around. He wasn’t at all miffed that you had decided to take matters into your own hands. If anything, he felt a little bad that he had taken so long that you felt the need to do it yourself.

Everything clicked in his head. Your nervous behavior was evidently because you had built this up in your mind and were afraid of how it would go. When he looked into your eyes and saw how they were filled with suspense and elation, he knew exactly how to react in the most honest, intentional way.

You half expected him to burst into laughter and make fun of you for doing it yourself. You even thought for a second that he might say no because HE wanted to be the one to do it. Instead, Severus caught you in a kiss so lovingly faultless and personable that it made you weak in the knees. He kissed you for a long time, standing under the gleaming stars and inky black sky. It was such a long kiss, in fact, that you wondered for a split second if he was stalling so he didn’t have to give an answer.

However, when he pulled away, his words were as clear as ever and his voice was as content as it had ever been.

“Oh, my love...my flower...” He remarked gingerly; “I thought you’d never ask.”

You both fell into tensile rounds of laughter, knowing that he was poking a bit of fun at the situation. You had matching smiles on your faces, so wrapped up in love and partiality that it was almost overwhelming. The ring fit well on his left hand, and made his hands look even more manly. It was a foreign feeling to have a ring on his hand, considering he almost never wore them. He’d grow used to it soon enough.

You kissed him over and over, so thrilled that he had said yes that you didn’t know what to do with yourself. You stopped your attack of kisses when he noticed he had pulled something out from his own pocket. You eyed the small red box, your raised brow falling and your eyes widening when he opened it silently to reveal the most breathtaking engagement ring you had ever seen. That’s when you realized it was the same one you had pointed out a while back.

“Sev, is that...?” You trailed off, with a soft giggle.

He nodded with a triumphant grin.

“Yes. I was going to ask you myself next week,” He admitted; “Looks like you beat me to it.”

Your laughter was harder and more chaotic this time, both of you cackling so much that you felt dizzy after a few moments. He slid the ring onto your finger, admiring how it looked so flawless on your hand. He brought you into his arms, your chin resting on his chest as you looked up at him.

“I know this wasn’t traditional, but I just-”

Severus put a slender finger to your lips.

“Shh,” He hushed; “It’s absolutely perfect.”

The two of you stood there in blissful silence, your hearts beating in sync with an inexpressible sense of euphoria. He left kisses in your hair, whispering sweet nothings in your ear every few moments to break the silence. This was far better than any proposal he ever could’ve planned. It was elegant, graceful, and most importantly, memorable.

“I love you.” Your voice rang out, your newly adorned hand brushing some of his hair from his face so you could fully see him.

He smiled once more, kissing the tip of your nose tenderly. He was excited for this new part of his life. He was excited to begin his life that would now be intertwined with yours.

He was unquestionably happy.

“I love you, darling. And now I’ll have forever to do so.”

[mrsdeanwinchester19]

The Dinner-Sequel to The Interview

Pairing: Steve x reader

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Sequel to The Interview.  Steve takes his wife to meet his team after her interview

Warnings: None

“Steve, do you think this dress is ok?” I ask, coming out of our walk-in closet wearing my lace, off the shoulder red dress.  Steve is taking me to dinner with the team tonight, so I want to make a good first impression.  Most people would think I’ve met the team before, but Steve kept our relationship a secret in the beginning and then the team broke up because of the Accords and we got married when we were on the run, so we really couldn’t invite any of the team members.

We had our wedding in Norway, one of the few countries that hadn’t signed the Accords.  They claimed they didn’t sign because if a non-government owned unit made from people from different countries called the Alsos Unit hadn’t helped them in World War II, the Germans would have succeeded in creating an Atomic bomb in their country.  In Norway, there was one team member, Thor, who was visiting Earth; he vouched for us.

After our wedding, we went to Wakanda on our honeymoon and visited Bucky. We had been having dinner with Bucky, T’Challa, and Shuri when we told him we got married.  He was upset that he couldn’t be there, but he understood when he found out the wedding happened when he was asleep.  When he said Steve could make it up to him by naming his first son James; Steve started choking on his Umqombothi drink.  I know Steve wants kids, but he wasn’t willing to have them while being on the run. Now that we’re not hiding, we’re actively trying for a baby.  I wonder if tonight he’ll break the news that he has a wife AND is trying to get said wife pregnant.

As I walk out of the closet, I bend down to adjust the ankle strap on my right heel.  I stand back up, smooth my dress, and look up at Steve.  He’s staring at me with a dopey smile on his face, love evident in his eyes.  “The dress itself is fine, you make it look perfect.”

“Ugh, Steve, quit it with the cheesy lines,” I protest while blushing.  Men used to say these things to their wives and girlfriends back in their time, it’s why Steve and Bucky can be prince charming when they want to be. Bucky more often than Steve now that he’s more like his old self, or so Steve says.

“I’m just being honest,” he defends, shrugging his shoulders.  He comes over to me and wraps his arms around my waist.  “You nervous?”

“What do you think?” I ask rhetorically.   I haven’t been this nervous since I first met Steve. In 2014, during a career conference once for journalists, the resort we were at was seized by terrorists.  One of my coworkers and I were the only ones from The New York Sun attending, despite the fact that it was in New York. I suppose they only wanted to go if the convention was out of town so they could get out of work and go on vacation. We were held in the resort’s Grand Hall for hours until the Avengers were able to save us.  There was a pretty big fight between Steve, Thor, Iron Man, Hawkeye, Black Widow, and the terrorists but luckily no one died.  I had been hurt in the kerfuffle, a broken finger, but after Steve wrapped my finger in a brace, he allowed me to interview him.  During the on-camera interview with him, Thor was teasing him in the background, doing silly faces and the “blah blah blah” hand motion.

Steve had asked for my name and number to “keep in touch and see if my finger heals correctly”.  When I gave it to him, he wrote it down in an old-fashioned address book. I hadn’t expected him to call me ever, but he did, asking for a date.  At first, he was weary of me being a journalist, in case things ended badly and I wrote a bad article about him.  However, a year later, he was thankful I was a journalist because I had access to all archived articles about the Winter Soldier.  After that happened, I knew he trusted me wholeheartedly and I felt the same. When the Accords started happening, I had access to the signing, to interview government people about it, and relayed that information to Steve about who he could trust.  That was how I found out about Norway not signing.

“They’ll love you,” he says.  “Bucky loves you, Tony will probably love you because he’ll think the interview prank you pulled on me was hilarious.  Nat and Wanda will be happy another girl is around.  Thor likes you, even Loki took a liking to you; he would love the interview prank. Clint will like you, Bruce will like you; no one has a reason to dislike you.

I turn around and take a good look at him. Royal blue dress shirt and black pants. His hair is up and I want nothing more than to run my fingers through it. He keeps me pressed to his body closely and I rub my hands along his chest. “If we didn’t have to go to dinner with your friends, I would be all over you right now.”

“Sorry, last night’s sex is just gonna have to hold you.” I give a little laugh.  “I’m just messing with you, I’ll be all over you tonight,” he growls, pulling my face up to his and kissing me deeply.  His kisses always leave me breathless, whether they’re passionate like this or small, chaste kisses when he’s leaving for work in the morning.  This however, is a whole new level and it’s making my heart go crazy.

Steve picks up the basket on the kitchen counter and we walk out the door. When we get to the car, he opens the door for me, ever the gentleman, before climbing in himself.  As he drives there, I fiddle with the hem of my dress.  I’m so worried I’ll talk too much or too little, or I’ll offend someone or embarrass Steve. What if I mention something about him that they don’t know?  Like that he bawled like a baby at Where the Red Fern Grows and Homeward Bound. Tony would probably love that but I don’t want to make Steve feel bad, I was crying too.

My biggest worry is what they’ll think of me after the interview.  Will they think it was funny or will they look at me as unprofessional for not telling them I had a conflict of interest with the Avengers?  I think Tony will like me, and maybe Nat, but I have no idea about the others.   I don’t think Bucky would come around as much as he does if he really didn’t like spending time with both Steve and me. Besides, sometimes when Steve is on a mission and he isn’t, he comes and keeps me company with old movies and our little two person book club we started.  His first choice of book was The Hobbit, which he told me he had read it when it first came out in 1937.  He was happy but not surprised to find out there were movies based on them.

When we drive up to the compound, Steve has a difficult time getting me through security.  They recognized my face and apparently Tony told them not to let me back. “Don’t alert Tony about her,” Steve said as he explained the situation to the guard.  He looked skeptical but agreed.

Steve led me upstairs, but not to the dining room where the team was waiting. He led me to his room.  “Well, well, well, Mr. Rogers, I thought we had to meet your friends in a little bit. Though I know you could probably get it done in ten minutes.”

“Ha ha ha, very funny,” he sarcastically replies.  “I just needed to grab…this,” he says, pulling his wallet out of his nightstand.  “Forgot it here yesterday.”

I simply hum in response to his explanation because I’m too busy looking around his room.  I’ve only seen it over FaceTime and in pictures.  It’s very different from our room at home. Our house, which we had just moved to from our apartment in preparation for a family, has a farmhouse theme.  Our master bedroom has a cream colored walls and one shiplap wall which our bed’s decorative headboard sits against, while our king sized bed is covered in a thick white comforter.  There’s a gray bench at the end of our bed and a blue and white rug.  There are nightstands on each side of the bed where we keep our small before bed items and our white, shared dresser is on the other side of the room, next to the door for our walk-in closet.  We have an attached bath with a clawfoot tub and a shower stall.  Our room lets in lots of natural light, which Steve loves because he likes to let the morning sun warm his back on his days off.

This room has a completely different feel to it. It’s much darker than our room at home. The walls are gray and his comforter is dark blue.  He has a black dresser across from his bed with a TV mounted to the wall above it. A plain bathroom with just a few essentials like shaving cream, a toothbrush, toothpaste, etc sit on the counter.  While our walls at home aren’t covered in pictures, we have more than the two he has here.  One is a picture of him and Bucky laughing and the other is of his parents before his father went to war; the war he never came back from.  Both pictures he has copies of hanging up at home. There’s a somewhat large window on the wall, but it’s covered with a blackout curtain.

I did most of the decorating at home, while this decorating was all him.   “Steve?” He looks at me.  “Do you not like our room at home?”

He furrows his eyebrows.  “No.  I love our place.  Why would you think that? Also, that’s very random to be bringing up now.”

“Well it’s just…this room is so different from ours at home.  I just didn’t know if you liked the darker colors better.  I want you to be comfortable in our room at home.  We can change it if you want it to look more like this one.”

He gives a little laugh and turns to face me.  “I didn’t decorate this room, Tony’s person did and he gave me this room because it’s the “most masculine”.  I prefer our room because it’s bright and spacious.  The fact that you decorated it is special to me because it’s like a present you gave to me.  Plus, I don’t have the best eye for interior design since everything I grew up with was either floral or had doilies.  But to be honest, this one feels a bit like a dungeon.  I just don’t bother to change it because I just sleep at home.  And I didn’t change it before I met you because even then I just used it to sleep, if I slept at all,” he looks into the distance, remembering all the nights he spent up in the gym, trying to beat the memories out of his mind.  He changes the subject, “Ok, so when we go down there I’m gonna have you wait around the corner and then you can come out when I tell you.”

He leads me downstairs and has me wait in a hallway. He walks around the corner and I hear Tony say, “Alright Capsicle, what’s the surprise you have for us?”

“Everybody just sit down and I’ll get to it in a minute,” he replies.  The sound of chairs scraping the floor is heard and Tony grumbles something about how he had been planning to have lasagna with Pepper tonight.  After a few seconds of silence, Steve comes back around the corner, grabs my hand, and leads me out. I nearly trip over my heels when we start moving and the pit in my stomach only grows.

At the sight of me, Tony and Natasha stand up startled. “What is she doing here?” Tony angrily asks.

“I thought you banned her,” Natasha adds on.

They all begin chattering, asking Steve why I’m here until Bucky calmly says, “Hey Y/N.”

Sam looks at Bucky confused, “You know her?”  Bucky nods his head and Sam looks at Steve, confused and a little hurt.  “Steve?”

“Everybody,” Steve starts, setting his hand on my lower back.  “This is Y/N, my wife.”

“WIFE?!” they all shout at different times.  Steve and I get bombarded with about a million questions at once.  When did we meet, why weren’t they invited to the wedding, when the wedding was, why I interviewed Steve the way I did, etc.

A loud thud on the balcony draws everyone’s attention. Thor is standing there in his armor and cape, holding his hammer.  “Sorry I’m late for team dinner,” he begins but stops when he sees me.  “Lady Y/N, I haven’t seen you since the wedding.  How has being married to the Captain been?”

“Oh you know, being married to a man-child is a struggle, but he’s hot enough for me to keep him around,” I joke.

“Thor, you know her too?” Tony asks.

“Yes I do.  Loki does too but I decided not to bring him tonight.  I think it would have been a bad idea.”

“Alright, Tony, sit down and I’ll explain everything,” Steve says.  Tony hesitantly sits down and everyone else follows.  Steve explained everything from why we met to why we couldn’t invite them to the wedding.

As he’s finishing telling the story and answering questions from the team, Tony’s bots bring in the pasta and Steve gets up and grabs something from the basket we brought.  He opens a bottle of wine and begins filling glasses.  When he gets to mine, I put my hand over my cup.  “Not tonight,” I say.

“But it’s your favorite,” he says.

“I can’t,” I say, not wanting to get in to it.

“C’mon, I won’t let you drink too much,” he says jovially.

“No, Steve…I can’t,” I say forcefully, looking up to make eye contact, hoping he understands without giving anything away.

He understands, but unfortunately his mouth works faster than his brain.  He looks down at my stomach and an excited smile spreads on his face.  “Are you…?”

I look around the table, seeing the Avengers all looking at us expectedly.  I look back at Steve and sheepishly nod.  He gasps and nearly drops the bottle, but luckily he realizes that when I reach out to catch it.

“A babe,” Thor says happily.  “Mazel tov.”

“They’re not Jewish,” Bucky says to Thor.  “Can’t wait to meet little James or Jamie.”  I give Bucky a look to let him know it’s not happening.  “Ok, Bucky works too.”

Tony puts his head in his hands looking like he’s about to pass out.  “Oh my god, we find out Steve is married to a woman I banned from the compound, and now that he’s going to be a father.”

I look at Steve to see him with tears in his eyes. Thankfully, Natasha saves us. “I’d like to propose a toast,” she says, standing up and holding her glass out.  “To Steve and Y/N, I hope you have a long, happy marriage and a healthy baby girl that you name Natasha.”

“That was the other thing we had planned to tell you tonight.  We’ve been trying for a baby.  I guess we were successful.”  Steve finishes pouring the drinks while everybody suggests baby names.  After a while, the conversation drifts to other things.  I enjoy listening to them, though they’re constantly quipping (mostly Tony).

Bucky, who’s sitting next to me, whispers to Steve, who’s on my other side, “Are we going to church this Sunday?”  The three of us go to church most Sundays. Steve and Bucky both grew up going to church, and it gives them some hope in a dark world.

Tony, who wasn’t involved in the conversation, cuts in. “Barnes, you could live at church and you still won’t go upstairs when you die.”

Bucky’s metal hand clenches so hard around his fork I’d be surprised if it isn’t bent.  He looks at Tony and gives him a very fake, overly sweet smile.  “Tony, I love how mean you are to me because it makes me feel less guilty about what I did to your parents.”

Tony stands up, slamming his hands on the table and Bucky mirrors him.  It looks like they’re about to attack but Steve intervenes.  “Tony, Bucky!  Tony, that was uncalled for and Bucky, that was unnecessary.  We know how you actually feel about your past and we’ve watched you try to change.”  Both men slowly sit back down.  “We have a guest.”  Bucky relaxes first, then Tony does.

“Y/N,” Tony addresses me.  “I need to apologize for my rudeness towards Bucky on my first night officially meeting you.  I was hoping not to fight with him tonight.”

“You call that a fight?  You should hear these two,” I say, gesturing to Steve and Bucky on either side of me.  “These guys can bicker with each other like an old married couple for hours about the smallest things.  Last week they had a 45 minute argument on how many times you can reuse a towel before it needs to be washed.”

“Wash it right away,” Steve mutters.

“Steve, we used to use towels so many times before we washed them in the 40s,” Bucky argues.

“Yeah but that was because if we needed to wash things, Mom had to heat up water and then hang-dry it on the balcony.  It’s easy to wash things now days.”

“Anyways,” Tony says, stopping their argument.  “I guess the interview you gave Cap makes sense now…somewhat.”

“Well I was pissed at him that day, so I think he deserved it.”

Tony smiles at Steve.  “You need to bring her around more often.”

Taglist: @imanuglywombat @infernal-fire @dottirose @carpediemm-18​