#i wanna add in here but id already gone on too long that her saying ''your family will see me'' also sort of implies that she assumed

[anastacialy]

actually, fuck it, i AM writing the essay, even if no one will read it.

my thoughts on penelope, how she sees herself, and why the carriage scene's ending is the most important thing in the whole wide world under the cut. and bridgerton season three part one spoilers, obviously.

penelope featherington hates herself. bit of a strong start here but, there we go. that's what you get when i'm going feral about her again at three in the morning. (it was eleven a.m. when i finished writing this post. i rewatched all four episodes of season three...)

i'll start from the beginning — she isn't a confident person. i think that's what a lot of penelope hate really comes down to, not relating to her in that way at all. not understanding what being treated the way she has can do to you. so let's start here:

imagine for a moment, no one fucking listens to you.

this includes her favorite people in the world. her family, for one thing, that's obvious, but her best friend, too. many times we hear eloise discover and re-discover what penelope's interests are in the series because, as she says, "i didn't really hear it." she was so frequently not really listening to her. they've been friends for years, but huge aspects of her friend's personality were completely unknown to her. this isn't anti-eloise by the way, i love her too, but we're adults who can admit our favs are all flawed people. the show wouldn't be nearly as fun if they weren't. eloise continues to belittle others for their interests when they don't match up to hers (like that poor girl who was just really passionate about embroidery) and she's done so to pen, however unknowingly, for ages.

penelope tried to beg marina to not fool colin into marriage. she had so, so many other suitors, so many other choices she could have made. all pen wanted was to not have her other best friend slash crush make that life altering of a mistake. but for this, she was called a child. immature. talked down to as if she knows nothing about the world. (she had been mostly right, by the way, in her insisting that george must still love marina, would still want to marry her, discovering that the letter had been forged. if he'd not died on the battlefield, penelope would have been the one to secure a happy ending for marina.) when she wasn't listened to then, she got more desperate, telling colin that marina was in love with someone else to deter him from the marriage while still careful to not ruin marina's reputation and expose her pregnancy in the process. she tried. but no one would listen.

so only when the situation became dire, she did the only thing that she could, and took matters into her own hands.

which brings us to lady whistledown.

it's interesting, really, that she chose that name. to specify lady so she might be taken seriously, yet not hide under a pseudonym completely removed from herself (i.e. using a masculine pen name or implying she's not a part of the ton at all) it's clear that lady whistledown is, for the most part, what penelope wants to and yet fails to be: someone who commands attention, who people admire and trust for an opinion, someone who gets listened to.

by the time we find her in season three, she's fresh off hearing her crush saying he'd never, ever court her, and her best friend finding out that she was lady whistledown all along and had exposed a secret of hers — only after penelope had, of course, also begged eloise to stop seeing theo, to stop raising the queen's suspicions, and was once again ignored. her only friendships have been destroyed, and she has resigned herself to a loveless marriage of convenience because she can't stand to be ignored, controlled, and belittled by her family any longer. she's ready to take the devil she doesn't know over the devil she does.

so, when i say her self confidence is on the floor, i mean it.

yes, a sliver of hope remains in her, and we can see that in her decisions (wearing parisian fashions, for instance) but her plan remains, she is simply going to marry someone, anyone, because she has to.

but even still, her confidence has not taken it's last hit.

let's imagine some more: no matter what you do, people are going to laugh at you.

penelope finally, finally gets her big moment. people stare at her as she enters the room. she still immediately hides herself in a corner because that's who she's always been, but still. she has a moment. not quite what she'd imagined, i'm sure, as she bought all new gowns, but attention and awe nonetheless. but it cracks almost instantly when her social awkwardness comes out, failing to get anyone to ask her to dance, and shatters completely when cressida destroys her dress before she can ever take to the floor.

colin tells her she looks nice, and her immediate reaction is "do not mock me, please."

it's only after this that she confronts colin about what he said, only after this that she speaks ill of him as lady whisteldown — not saying any more than what his sister had already pointed out earlier in the episode, mind you, that his change in personality seemed disingenuous — only after she has been publicly humiliated that she lashes out in her anger.

and, this anger, she also immediately regrets after colin has proven himself to be kind. it's a bit like making a snide comment online without the ability to delete it after.

but when penelope has hope, she is kind. she writes of the promising ladies of the ton and wishes them well with their matches, when she has hope she speaks positively of would-be spinsters and their successful marriages. many of her earlier musings in previous seasons were to call the women of the ton beautiful, to speak to their skills.

but hope for penelope does not last long. she manages to successfully speak to one suitor at the next ball (which, though this is another argument entirely, is backed by a string quartet version of "jealous" as colin re-approaches her at the drinks table — any arguments that his feelings start at their kiss isn't paying near enough attention) but the entirely true rumor about her having help from him spreads through the vine and penelope is hopeless once more.

and a hopeless penelope is a cruel penelope, as we've seen, and this time, she turns that cruelty inward, publicly. while she later says it would have been suspicious if lady whistledown hadn't commented, in truth, she has proven time and time again that her emotions rule lady whistledown's writings. in that moment, eyes tearful, she was embarrassed and ashamed of herself, she decided to say so. she repeats the same sentiment to colin when he comes to visit her:

"in truth i brought this on myself. a sad, stupid girl who believed she might actually have a chance at love."

and here is where lady whistledown continues to be someone penelope sees as different to herself, because penelope doesn't see herself as a lady. not just for lack of title — she does not see herself as worthy of or requiring protection. to call back to antony's season one romance: "every woman is not afforded such gallant protection." "every woman is not a lady."

she says nothing of him bribing her maid to give them time alone. like most of the ton she doesn't think the time they spend alone together could be anything other than platonic, at least on his end. they spent extended time unchaperoned at the bridgerton house and not once did she speak on impropriety. he'd been alone with her in the previous season and even when they were caught no one had a thing to say about it. no one questions it because penelope is not recognized as desirable, not seen as needing this protection, not seen as a lady. she is seen, even by herself, as a spinster already.

when she asks colin for a kiss, she reassures him that she would ask nothing of him for it, she would not entrap him in a marriage citing impropriety, she doesn't even think about whether someone might see. she does not care in this moment if she is to be "ruined," she only wants to feel some illusion of intimacy, some imitation of being wanted. even her running back inside immediately after, and the subsequent conversation under the willow tree, are further proof that she doesn't believe he could have kissed her for any reason other than pity.

and, even after all she goes through with lord debling, she is still not the only object of his affections. the entire time she pursues him, cressida is there, hot on the trail, ready to sweep him away on a moment's notice. penelope writes of their dance that his choice of her is surprising. though her feelings for colin have not simply fluttered away once debling's shown interest, her possible engagement to debling is on a wavering tightrope. not once in this can she feel wholly at ease with lord debling, only afforded a bit of security once he asks her mother for her blessing. and amongst this, her mother still belittles her, saying she should not become greedy for wanting to marry someone who actually cares for her.

she asks lord debling if he might ever love her, in all the years of marriage they may have ahead, and he says probably not.

and when colin breaks up her proposal, insisting debling isn't right for her, still penelope does not even consider, can not even conceptualize that it might be done out of jealousy. colin having feelings for her is laughable, she says as much, and it is the same thing she has been told over and over since the start. he chases after her carriage out of breath asks to be let in, gets on his knees and tells her he can't stop dreaming of her and she tells him "please. do not say things you do not mean." she cannot imagine that any of this is real. it is confusion that prompts her to repeat the agreement they had in episode one, "but, colin, we are friends."

and while an entirely separate essay could be written about the rest of the carriage scene, it is what happens the moment the carriage arrives at bridgerton house that stands out to me. they have this moment, colin asks "could the carriage driver not keep on driving?" and they both laugh, the way they always do with one another, and he fixes her dress (carefully, avoiding using a select few fingers as he does so) and they kiss again, and he gets out of the carriage.

and for a single, heartbreaking second, penelope's face falls, and she calls after him: "colin?"

it is so clear in her demeanor that she thought that was it; that's all she gets. the fantasy is over and it is back to reality. for a split second, she believes he is no longer hers.

for a single second, it's as though she thinks he is going to shut the carriage door on her, and walk away.

but he turns around, hand outstretched, asking if she'd like to come in. and she's once again confused, "what?"

do not say things you do not mean. do not mock me please.

and when he says: "for god's sake, penelope featherington, are you going to marry me or not?"

she looks so relived she could cry.

[ptergwen]

through the lens

w/c: 2.3k

warnings: swearing and mentions of blood (all fluff tho!)

summary: yours and peter’s date night doesn’t go as planned, thanks to his “little” accident and mj’s photography project

a/n: it’s been a minute but i’m back! for now lol i promise i’ll be way more active when exam season is over <3 this was based off the lovely pic above taken by the even lovelier zendaya and i hope you enjoy these… let’s call it random workings of my mind

-

“hang on, can you come closer?” mj instructs you, you promptly stepping towards her. “is this good?” “great,” she affirms and squints behind the camera. “smile really big on the count of three, okay? one, two, three!” doing as she says, you give mj your cheesiest grin with your eyes squeezed shut and all. she snickers while snapping the moment on her polaroid.

mj asked you to be her subject for a photography project. you’re happy to do it, although it’s super last minute. like, barging-into-your-room-and-begging-you-for-help last minute. she was supposed to turn this in days ago. lucky for mj, her teacher was feeling generous and gave her an extension.

you have to work fast because of mj’s deadline and your plans with peter. he’s coming over for a movie marathon and cuddles right about now. well, he’s actually running a tad bit late. that’s typical peter for you.

“just a couple more, and then you’re free,” mj informs you while shaking out the polaroid. “this is honestly pretty fun, you know.” you glance at the photo she’s holding with an eyebrow quirked in surprise. she captures you well. “what made you choose me?” “no one else was free on a saturday,” she snorts and tosses the picture in a pile with the rest.

your mouth falls agape. “i’m not free! peter’s gonna be here in…” you check the time on your phone, much to your dismay. “he’s a few minutes late, but still. i have things to do, too.” a smirk sets on mj’s face as she gets ready for the next photograph. “relax, y/n/n. i was kidding. i’m sure spider-dweeb will be here sooner than you know it.” sighing lightheartedly, you take a seat on your bed.

“don’t call him that,” you shake your head. mj throws her own head back to the ceiling. “ugh, but that was a good one,” she insists, you only humming. “it’s better than penis parker, at least.” “nah, i like the alliteration,” you laugh out and earn a giggle from mj. “you’re lucky parker doesn’t have super hearing, or does he?” winking, you hit a pose for mj. you’re looking at her over your shoulder with smolder eyes.

“ask him yourself, after you get this shot.”

the two of you continue messing around with her polaroid until the film is almost gone, and peter has yet to arrive. you’re starting to worry. you aren’t sure where he could be.

he doesn’t patrol on weekends unless it’s an emergency, and he would’ve told you if there was one already. he’s never this late without sending a text, either. it’s almost an hour past when date night should’ve started. on the other occasions peter has gone off the grid, they didn’t end well.

“i’m freaking out, em. do you think he’s in some kind of trouble?” you ask mj, pacing around your bedroom. she offers a sympathetic shrug. “maybe he just ate some bad yogurt. remember last time?” being the dummy he is, peter once scarfed down an entire tub of vanilla yogurt before he realized it was expired. no one heard from him for days. he didn’t show up to school or answer any calls.

may ended up inviting you over and explaining he’d gotten a stomach bug, which you then tended to him for the rest of. the story was so amusing, and so peter.

“may doesn’t buy him dairy anymore. why do you think he always raids your freezer?” you bring your fingers up to rub your temples. “the kid can empty ice cream cartons in one bite,” she agrees, silently cringing. her curiosity piques at the fact. “is that also a power?” “who cares?” you nearly shout, your fingers curling into fists. “what i wanna know is if peter is fucking okay.”

on cue, there’s a knock at your apartment door. you and mj exchange looks of urgency, both rushing out of your room to answer.

mj follows you through the hall and stands by your side while you fumble with the lock. when your door pulls open, ned has his hand raised to knock again. “ned? what are you doing here?” you don’t give him the chance to speak. “have you heard from peter? he was supposed to be here a while ago, but he never showed.” rather than answering in words, ned takes a step aside.

the sight you’re met with makes you gasp. peter peeks out from behind him, cuts and bruises littering his flushed face. he gives you a lopsided smile.

“you have your answer,” mj murmurs to you and eyes ned curiously. he lets out a nervous chuckle. “here he is.” you push past ned and practically jump into peter’s arms, your hug bone-crushing. “peter, oh my god! are you okay?” wincing, peter hugs you back by your waist. his chin rests carefully on your head.

“hey… i’m alright, baby. still pretty sore, though,” he sucks his lower lip between his teeth. you take the hint to loosen your grip on him. “i was worried something bad might’ve happened to you. i… i guess i was right.” your tone softens, you threading a hand in his curls. they’re completely disheveled from whatever went down with him.

ned heads inside to catch up with mj, the two of them letting you have a moment alone.

“someone’s got a spidey sense of their own, huh?” peter tries to lighten the mood by joking. it doesn’t work, a frown still evident on your face as you try to untangle his once soft locks. “baby, everything’s fine. i just… had a little accident is all. no big deal,” he reassures you and moves in to peck your lips. you’re so shocked that you dodge the kiss.

“little? your whole face is black and blue, pete!” you tug on the white collar of his button up, peter letting out a shaky breath. your other hand comes to rest on his cheek, touch gentle. “how’d you get like this?” he licks across his lips shyly and sets his hands on your hips. “see, on the way over there were these bad guys who-“

“no there weren’t,” ned cuts in, scoffing at the beginning of his friend’s story. peter shoots him a warning look over your head. “yes there were, ned. you weren’t even there!” he catches mj glaring at him before he continues. “don’t listen to him. anyway, i had to fight them because…” when he trails off, you stroke your thumb across his cheek, avoiding any wounds in the way. raising both eyebrows, mj speaks up.

“because why? go on, parker. i’m intrigued,” she encourages him. everyone can tell peter is lying except you. the question really is, what’s he lying about? he gulps down his spit, pulling your body against his for comfort. “take your time, peter. we can wait,” you say only for him to hear. his love filled eyes meet yours, and he nods. ned huffs at the dramatics unfolding before him.

“dude, you’re making this way worse than it actually is. just tell her!” he demands, mj cocking her head to the side. peter’s gaze flits between the two of them. “tell me what?” you wonder softly and tilt his chin, willing him to look at you again. “i… i…” peter’s shoulders slump, his voice lowering in defeat. “there weren’t any bad guys.”

“of course there weren’t,” ned confirms. “no shit,” mj adds. exhaling, you wait for your boyfriend to further elaborate. “what really happened, then? be honest, pete.” peter lets go of you so he can come into your apartment properly, you shutting the door behind him. he scratches the back of his neck as he fills you in. “ok. um, me and ned were hanging out.”

ned is attempting to stifle a laugh for some reason, which mj elbows him for. you take one of peter’s hands. “yeah?” “we were at my place, and… you know those really slippery steps on the sixth floor?” peter pauses for someone to answer, playing with your fingers. “the ones flash almost wiped out on once?” mj questions in amusement. he lets a quiet chuckle out. “good times. yeah, those.”

his gaze averts to the ground, you listening on. “so, i was walking ned out on my way over. we were talking about spidey stuff-“ “as per usual,” mj mumbles to herself. ned raises his hands in defense. “—and i told ned i could always stick my landings. he didn’t believe me.” you playfully roll your eyes, seeing where this is going. “so… i, uh, decided to show him,” peter finishes off.

“i did a, um, backflip. tripped and fell down the flight of stairs,” he finally admits to you, putting his other hand on top of your intertwined ones. “clearly, i was wrong.” his bloody face is now red from humiliation. “you didn’t trip, dude. you freaking summersaulted!” ned corrects him and bursts into laughter he’s been holding back. “idiots, both of you,” mj simply remarks.

“that’s it? why didn’t you just say that?” you almost laugh yourself. groaning, peter rests his forehead against yours. “because it’s embarrassing! i wanted you to think i’m a tough guy or whatever.” placing both hands on his cheeks this time, you nuzzle your nose against his. “you don’t have to be a tough guy to impress me, babes. you’re kind, smart, funny. makes up for you being such a klutz.”

peter cracks a grin, easily capturing your lips in the kiss he didn’t get to before. it doesn’t last long because mj gags and ned whistles at you. you’re both giggling when you pull apart, peter kissing the tip of your nose for good measure.

“you really mean that?” he checks, tucking back a strand of hair from your face. “of course. i have a thing for himbos,” you tease and poke at his bare chest. his eyes widen. “how about i get you some ice and you find our first movie?” you’re already off to the kitchen, beaming at peter. “date night’s still on?” he happily plops down on your couch, mj showing ned her pictures from earlier.

“as soon as those two get out of here,” you call loudly enough so ned and mj hear you. “yeah, yeah. we’re leaving,” mj deadpans, shoving the photos back into her portfolio. peter glances over at it curiously. “what’s that for?” “photography project,” she says and gets an idea. “i have some film left. y/n took up most of it… you losers want the rest?”

while mj coerces her way to a higher grade, you put some popcorn in the microwave for your movie marathon.

“well, i could use a new lockscreen. i’m in!” ned quickly concedes. him and mj both give peter hopeful looks. “i’m not!” he protests, squishing one of your pillows against his chest. “with my face looking like… this? forget about it.” mj walks over to him and places her portfolio on the coffee table. “what? those gashes are gnarly… in a good way, i mean,” she promises.

“painful, too,” peter murmurs. “y/n, hurry up with that ice!” mj demands, grabbing the polaroid camera from its string around her neck. you wave her off. “what i’m saying is, they’ll look sick in my portfolio.” mj forces a smile, ned looking at her weirdly. “uh, what’s the theme of your project again?” “freestyle, baby,” mj casually replies.

peter comes up with a condition that could persuade him. “if you say please, i might consider it,” he concludes, mj perking up. “please be in my project. pretty please?” she instantly requests, ned pursing his lips from behind her. peter rubs his chin. “y/n, what do you think? should i?” you pipe in from the kitchen. “yeah, so she’ll leave my house.”

“you heard the lady. i’ll do it,” peter gives in. all but squealing, mj gestures for ned to sit. “this’ll only take a few minutes. you guys are really saving my ass.” ned gets comfortable next to peter on the couch, who wants to see how far mj will really go. “aw, we are? i believe that calls for a…” ned catches on. “it comes after please…” mj picks up her camera with gritted teeth. “thank you, morons. say cheese!”

that’s the only warning peter and ned get before they’re blinded with the flash. ned does a toothy grin as he leans into peter’s side. peter musters up the best smile he can, hair a mess and cuts burning pink on his face. satisfied, mj snatches the photograph as it pops out.

“pleasure doing business with you two,” she states, you joining the three of them in the living room. you set the popcorn on the table and give peter his ice pack. he presses it to his cheek, kissing the back of your hand. “send me that!” ned reminds mj, helping himself to your bowl of popcorn. she salutes him.

“there’s my star. what do you say, y/n? wanna take one more really quick?” mj suggests, already holding up her polaroid. you take the other cushion next to peter, your head on his shoulder. “can peter be in it with me? since he’s in the modeling mood tonight.” he wraps an arm tightly around you. “let’s do it, sweetness.”

eagerly jumping in front of you two, mj crouches down to get a better angle. “on the count of three. one, two, three!” the camera clicks, and you surprise peter by laying a smooch on one of his cheeks. he’s holding the ice against his other, genuinely smiling for this picture. ned coos at you, mj showing off her work when it dries.

“how adorable,” she says sarcastically but means it. peter nods at her in appreciation, his lips brushing the side of your head. “what can i say, you’re a pro,” you compliment mj. “come on, em!” ned cheers through a mouthful of popcorn.

tonight was an unexpected and exciting mess, even if your date night did get crashed.

[yvaineseleneposts]

The Troubadour

Requested: no

A/N: This has to be my longest piece ever! I hope it was worth the wait and that you enjoyed it. There could be a few mistakes in there both in English and Italian, sorry in advance. I loved writing this, it wasn’t exactly what I wanted but I am a perfectionist and I have rewritten this about 5 times. I just needed to post it now!

Pairing: OC!Diana Bianchi & Damiano David

Words: 3k

Warning(s): swearing, drinking, smoking (I mean it’s the 70s…), smoking weed, my Italian (I have been studying this beautiful language for three years now but people make mistakes)

West Hollywood, California // Mid-January 1972

Red eyes.

Sweaty foreheads.

That is all Diana would see when they screamed at her. “CAN I GET TWO BEERS AND A COKE PLEASE?!”

Working behind the bar was not her dream job. Diana remembered it like it was yesterday, she and her friend Tami had gone to The Troubadour to celebrate the weekend when she saw a “help wanted” poster. It was a godsend. Diana applied there and then and not long after she found herself behind the bar, handing out drinks to people who looked like they were having the best time of their lives. Another plus side was the fact that she could attend the concerts of all the artists and bands for free.

Obviously, there were also downsides to this job. For example, Diana couldn’t go out and live her teenage years. She isn’t allowed to drink (too much) on the job and the hours aren’t exactly great. The pay is okay though and the tips are even better. Half of the people don’t even know how much they are giving and walk off like they didn’t just hand you 20 for an eight dollar drink. She doesn’t complain much about her job but she does feel left behind sometimes. Like when Tami or her other friend chat about some weird adventure they had the night before and who they met or kissed. Diana felt like she missed out on a lot of things but she had no other choice.

Her parents had kicked her out when she was 15. Diana moved in with her grandmother and lived with her for a while until she passed away. She has been living alone in her grandmother’s old apartment ever since. A few friends had moved in with her but then moved out again when they had found a better place to live. So it was just Diana paying the rent for the place.

 “CAN I GET A RUM AND COKE?!” Diana gets snapped out of her thoughts. Shit, what did he want?! She thinks to herself as she stares at the intoxicated man.  “SORRY?!” She shouts back over the loud music. At least she had another reason for not hearing the man.  “RUM AND COKE!” That is all the man yells before turning his band to her so he could face the stage. Some weird indie band is playing tonight. Diana wasn’t really into it and honestly couldn’t wait until her boss would send her home for the night. She puts in a little less rum, the man will probably not even taste the difference.

The band had stopped playing somewhere around two a.m. However not all the guests had left around 2.30 which is something Diana hated the most. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy her job but after so many hours standing on her feet, she wanted nothing more than to clean up, go home and get into her warm bed.

 “Diana, can you come here for a minute?” her boss asked. What was that tone, was he going to fire her?! “It’s nothing bad, don’t worry.” Pfew. Diana walked behind him into his office.

 “What can I help you with, Doug?” She asked as she sat down in the very comfortable chair across from him. Doug Weston had somewhat become her parent over the last few years that she had worked here. He was always so kind to her and could always ask him for help if she needed him.

 “I want to get more bands from across the sea. I want interesting people and not just the same bands playing over and over again. New talent that no one has heard of before but will become known because of this place. Inspire new talent, you know?” He was rambling on with his sales pitch as if you had any input, it was his place after all. “And seeing that you can speak more languages than I have ever could, I was wondering if you could write small pieces for newspapers in Europe that will inspire these artists to come here and get all the fame and fortune they want.”

 “Sure, Doug. You know I would do anything to help this place… and you of course”, Diana said while a wide grin spread on her face. She felt like she was moving up when in reality it wasn’t a new job position. She would do anything to not have the same indie bands playing almost every night. Diana would never have imagined that she would change the lives of four individuals barely six months later, and change her own life along with it.

Rome, Italy // Mid-March 1972

 “The Troubadour. The place where artists and bands from all over the world can make it or break it in the United States. It all depends on the crowd. If they love you, you can come back for an entire week! If not you will receive the money for that evening but sadly you won’t be allowed back. It’s always packed with record executives so you could get a sweet record deal out of this experience. Do you have what it takes? Sign up and good luck to everyone competing in the battle of the bands! – D. B.” Damiano finishes reading. “Ragazzi, I honestly cannot wait till we get to play there! It’s going to be veramente stupendo!”

 “Bene Damiano, calm yourself. It’s less than five months away. We still have to play in this dump to even afford to go. We barely have enough money for a motel, we don’t even have the plane tickets yet!” Classic Victoria, always worrying as if she is the mother of the group.  “Calmati Victoria, noi staremo bene”, Ethan jumps in. “Let’s get back to practising before we start another fight, sì?” The rest nods their head and pick up their instruments.  “I was thinking, should we start with I wanna be your slave oppuro no? Is it too much?” Damiano suggest.  “Oh, and for outfits, I have a few ideas?!” Thomas adds like a little kid who is excited for Christmas day.  “Positivo, let’s look at those after practice”, Damiano says. Not even ten minutes later they had many up a little setlist. It was a battle of the bands so they had to at least practice 4-5 songs to play against other bands. Then if they were allowed to come back they had to prepare yet another 6 songs on top of those 5 they had already played. They could do it, they had enough songs in their database but were they going to sing their Italian songs or did they have to translate them? The members of Måneskin weren’t sure yet. Luckily for them, they had four months to think about it.

West Hollywood, California // Mid-July 1972

Diana hadn’t even woken up yet, but on the other side of the city, Måneskin had arrived at the airport.  “Finalmente ci siamo. Ce l’abbiamo fatta!” Thomas exclaims. Damiano chuckles and throws an arm around Thomas’s shoulders.  “Slow down, loverboy. We have not made it yet. We landed yes, but we have a long way to go from here to that stage tonight.”  “How every grown-up of you, Damiano”, Victoria teases. “I bet with Ethan that you would follow the first American girl that you saw in this airport and that we wouldn’t see you until much later.”  “Ha ha, molto divertente, Victoria. Sei una persona così divertente.” They continue their bickering whilst Ethan collects all of their suitcases.   “Addiamo?” He finally asks the group, they all agree and make their way through the busy airport to the designated taxi area. During this, they complain about how crowded it is and how much the air smells. It is nothing like their own country but you have to take chances if you want to become famous like their dream.

Later that day

Doug had told Diana to come into work later than she usually would. It was going to be a busy night and he’d rather have her work during the performances than during the day and wear her out. So here she was around six-thirty instead of two o’clock. It felt so weird because usually when she arrives there is no line out front and now there was one to the end of the block. She passed all the people waiting in line, hearing them complain and moan as she walks up to Mario, the bouncer. He doesn’t even need to see her worker-id, as she walks in he wishes her good luck with tonight. She liked Mario, he was working here before she came and even then he had told her if she ever needed anything him and his wife had an extra bed for her. Honestly, the sweetest guy… also the toughest guy you will ever meet.

As Diana walked to the changing area to hang her coat and bag, she ran into a few participants of tonight’s show. She greeted most of them but they were too busy with themselves, the fame they hadn’t even earned yet was already rising to their heads. Before she could make her way to the bar, Doug called her over.

 “Diana, come here for a second. I want to introduce you to a few people.” Classic Doug, always introducing everybody to everybody. If he believed you could make it, he would introduce you to all his workers. However, the bands did not know this, the workers would treat them a little extra. “They are from Italy as well!” As if Diana herself had moved for their, it was actually her grandparents. She could speak a little Italian but other than her last name, there was nothing Italian about her. Doug briefly introduced the members of Måneskin to Diana, who couldn’t keep her eyes off a certain member. To be quite honest she had not remembered everyone’s names and she stumbled to get her name out of her mouth. All because she was already head over heels with this handsome, tall, young Italian man.

After a couple of introduction, Diana was finally behind her bar, her safe space. Meeting Damiano had made her weak in her knees, she had never had a reaction like this before. She didn’t really pay attention to the competitors and focused on serving the people but when it was Måneskin’s turn, she started to lose focus on her work.

During most of their setlist, Damiano kept glancing over to Diana and winking at her. Or at least that’s what it felt like for Diana. However, after a rather sexy song (let’s be real most of them are) he kissed one of his male bandmates on the mouth. Now Diana is not one to judge people on who they love. She reasons that everyone should love who they want to love and receive love because of it. It wasn’t that she hated it, it kind of turned her on, but she was very confused. Had she read the signs wrong? Were there even any signs to begin with? At times like these she wanted to ask Tami for help yet she was afraid that if Tami came and tried to help her that somehow Tami’s charm would work on Damiano and Diana would still end up with nothing. No, she had to do this on her own, she decided.

After the battle of the bands was over, a few stayed behind to talk with record labels about future arrangements. Diana started cleaning up, and washing and drying a few glasses, secretly listening in on a few conversations.

 “I liked what I saw out there. Let your agent call me and we will discuss your expansion in the United States.” Well, that sounded very good. Diana turned around to see who the band was that this man was talking to, but when she turned around she looked right into Damiano’s eyes.

 “I have been trying to get your attention all night”, he says shyly.  “Really? I thought so but I wasn’t sure”, Diana responds. Damiano raises his hand and scratches behind his head.  “I was wondering, you know. If maybe- ugh. Perchè è cosi difficile?” He mutters, not looking Diana in the eyes.  “Provalo in Italiano?” she suggests and Damiano’s eyes shoot up to meet hers.  “Cazzo. Parli Italiano?” He looks even more nervous now.  “Si, parlo Italiano.” He laughs at her answer.  “Vuoi uscire domani sera?” Diana nods her head, she honestly cannot stop smiling.  “I’d love to go out with you. Do you want me to pick you up at the hotel? That would be easier than you trying to find my house.”  “Yeah, sure. We’re staying at the Millwood Motel, it’s not too far from the airport.”  “Ah yes, I know that place. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” He leans over and kisses her cheek before leaving her to finish her work.

That night Diana barely slept. Did Damiano know any places here to take her to? Did she have to come up with a place? What if he was some weird guy? What if he was a murderer?! She sure was happy now that she didn’t give him her address. The following day she woke up around noon. She went to the kitchen and grabbed her Cona coffee maker, if she was to get through the day, she was going to need a big cup of coffee. She put water and coffee ground on the lower half of the pot and put it on the stove. She hated having to watch the coffee boil and couldn’t wait for better times when you would just have to push a button to get your coffee.

Seeing that she woke up around noon, it didn’t take long before Diana met up with Damiano. She asked him if he had anything specific in mind. Surprisingly, he did. He explained that he and his bandmates did a little sightseeing and they walked past a roller skating rink. Damiano always wanted to try that and he thought this would be perfect for their little date. Diana absolutely loved the idea and couldn’t wait till they got there.

Both of them were sad that the night had ended so quickly or so they thought. It was in fact 1 a.m. and they had already spend ten hours together. Diana brought Damiano back to the motel with her car and of course he couldn’t leave without planting a kiss on her lips. They kissed for a while before finally letting each other go.  “We’ll be leaving soon”, Damiano said and looked at their intertwined hands in his lap.  “Already? You just got here two days ago”, Diana complained. She just met him and now he is leaving already? She wasn’t prepared for that. She knew he was leaving at some point, he had to he didn’t live in the US, but still she had hoped for a little more time together.  “Maybe we’ll come back soon. We have a meeting with our agent and that record label guy tomorrow.”  “Could we meet up after? We should catch dinner together, I have another day off”, she suggested. Damiano agreed, kissed her one more time before leaving her car and making his way to his motel room.

The next day

Diana waited for Damiano in front of a large building. She was enjoying the sun on her face when she felt two arms coming from behind and hugging her on her stomach.  “Ciao, amore mio. Sei adorabile oggi”, Damiano said into her ear before kissing the side of her face.  “Ciao, you don’t look to bad yourself”, she said as she turned around. She grabbed his face in her hands and kissed him on his lips, his mates cheering them on in the background. “How did it go in there?” With that question Damiano’s face broke out in a wide grin. “What?”  “Amore, we’re staying here in the US. We got a record deal, we will be here for the entire year!” he shouts and all five of them jump in celebration. “I was going to tell you at dinner, but I just couldn’t wait anymore. We can be together, amore.” Diana broke out in tears, nodding her head, for she had never met a man who she loved more than Damiano. Her Italian lover boy.

[jamestrmtx]

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Fifteen | Quiet Water

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

Alternate Chapter Title: The Colour Red

Note: I'll begin to use more inclusive language in terms of how the reader is referred to from here on out, as suggested by the following comment:

So, with that being said: ren is the gender-neutral/non-binary term for mom/dad (short for parent).

I'm truthfully still a bit new to this (LGBT+ info beyond homo and bisexuality isn't too widespread where I'm from), so feel free to let me know over any suggestions related to these changes. :-)

• • •

“Are you really going to let Frisk hang out with them?” Jerry asks, offering you a drink.

The smell of alcohol is beyond distinguishable when you take it; you can feel your eyes burn and your throat itch in response to its strength. “Weren’t you the one who said they hurt Frisk, in the first place?” he adds, grimacing. You set it aside. If he was trying to soften you up by making you tipsy, you weren’t falling for it. “How come they get to see Frisk more often than I do?”

You sit up straight and let your legs drape off the chair. “I’m still deciding what to do with that,” you reply, facing the beach. With the sun already close to hiding, you can tell it’s getting late. Three hours had gone by since you made it here, and yet he still chose to wait until the last minute to talk about this matter with you. “And I never stopped you from seeing Frisk. You did that to yourself. The only barrier I set was between you and me -- not them.”

Your shoulders tense at the feeling of his hands bringing you in for a hug from behind, his chin resting against your upper back. You brush him away and glare him down, jaw clenching. “Don’t touch me, Jerry,” you blurt out, chest heaving. “I’m already seeing someone else.” That last sentence is quick, unplanned, and more of a necessary impulse than anything else. Even if you weren’t in something official with the one in question yet, you didn’t want to play around.

“Who?”

“That’s none of your business.”

Jerry stands up, now his turn to be angry. “It is if he'll be the one who’ll be replacing me.” His hands clench, his back straightens, and his height towers over you. “You can’t just date any stranger you meet.” Not wanting to feel small, you stand up and lift your gaze, meeting straight with his eyes. “If the guy turns out to be bad, he..." He hesitates and changes his scowl for a frown. "He wouldn’t only be hurting you, but Frisk, too.”

“And you think I don’t know that?” You sneer and shudder when a gust of wind blows by. “I’ve been single ever since we broke up, Jerry. It’s only now that I’m finally starting to do this again!” When another breeze hits, you take a towel and wrap it around your body, protecting yourself from the cold. Ready to leave, you lift your chin and turn around, only to be held back by him once more. “What? It’s getting late, and Frisk’s already sleeping.”

“Hear me out for a second, please," he says. Your back’s still to him, leaving his expression unknown. His voice is what reveals his emotions, a hint of concern reaching his tone. “I just want what’s best for Frisk and… And you.”

“You had time to worry about that way before this. It's too late for that now.” Again, you brush his hand away and take a small step forward. “You can see Frisk anytime you want, so long as they want to. But I don’t want to talk with you anymore, Jerry. You had your chance -- Not now, when you've just found out I’m dating someone else.”

“You're being selfish.”

The next time you feel him touch you, it’s around your waist. He tries to hug you a second time, but you reject him by pushing him off you. “I said,” you snap, turning around, “don’t touch me. You were the one who said we could be parents, so don’t you dare try this with me again.”

With him now four feet apart from you, your gazes are more leveled out. Still, he tries to make up for it by closing off distance, attempting to corner you. “And yet you still agreed to it,” he remarks. “You're just as guilty as I am, (Y/N)."

You want to stay and argue, but your mind fights against it. Id and ego have a conflict as you try not to let things explode, already done with Jerry for today. The sand sinks and slows you down when you aim to make an exit, opening a path for him to stop you again. He holds your wrists and keeps you in place. There are tears welling up in his eyes and a sense of longing present in his touch. "I meant it when I said I missed you," he adds, holding you tighter. "I was... I was scared back then, thinking I wouldn't be a good father for our kid, so… So I left. But now I'm responsible enough, (Y/N), and I can prove it to you." His face gets closer, sufficient for you to smell the booze in his breath. "Don't you miss me? Just please give me one more chance, and you'll see what I mean."

Just as you're trying to break free from his hold, you hear someone open a door and touch the sandy floor. A voice intervenes, coming from the car parked nearby. You can recognize it already, but you try to focus on Jerry and his drunken state more. The voice is softer at first, growing louder when they say, "Leave ren alone."

That confirms who they are.

Frisk closes the door, walks to your side, and looks up to meet with Jerry's face. Their next words are signed, revealing their anxiety, "You might still be my dad, but you're not married to them anymore."

Your wrists burn when he lets go. You look down at them, seeing bright red contrast with the (tone) of your skin. Then, you move your attention to Jerry and see frustration still present in his eyes. His hands twitch before he balls them again and lets them fall.

"That's no way to talk to me, Frisk," he says, replacing his sorrow with anger. "Aren't you gonna say anything about it, (Y/N)?" he adds, words now directed at you.

"I told you to leave ren alone," Frisk persists, mimicking his anger.

Jerry looks at you, then at Frisk, and later at your drink, its ice now long melted. He picks it up and chugs it down in three large gulps, crushing the cup when finished. "I'm leaving."

True to his word, he storms off, sand scarcely obstructing his steps as he opens the door and climbs into the driver's seat.

You rush off to him, saying, "You're too drunk to drive. Let me do it."

He shakes his head, and a chuckle leaves his mouth as he tosses the cup aside and turns the key around. "Go take a bus if you don't wanna hitch a ride with me," he replies, snickering. "I'm out."

"It's dangerous." You hold him back by grabbing his arm, this one left to hang over the open window. "Give me the keys."

He grins and closes off distance between you. "Only if you give me a kiss, babe."

"Jerry, please. You're being ridicu-

Again, Frisk proves to be not only monsterkind's saviour, but also your own as they speak up again, another voice accompanying theirs. "Step away from the car and let them drive, sir." You look to the voice to see the local lifeguard standing next to Frisk. She has her arms crossed tight and firm lips, showing her authority.

Arm muscles define themselves as she stands up straighter and narrows her gaze at Jerry. A thin layer of patience reveals itself by the way she taps her foot and frowns. Her neon red swimsuit contrasts with her tanned skin and black hair alike, making her an unavoidable sight for those looking for trouble.

"Don't wanna."

"Do it for your child." Her frown deepens, furrowed eyebrows completing her look. "Or else I'll be forced to hand you over to our guards until you sober up."

"Take me, then." He steps out of the vehicle and holds his arms out; a sloppy smile shows up as he waits for her to approach him and do as told. "If I'm not driving my car, then nobody else will."

"Jerry, please, stop thi-"

Too late for you to try to calm him down, the lifeguard walks to his side and looks him right in the eyes. "Suit yourself." She signals for him to follow her, waiting until he turns the vehicle off, takes the keys away, and complies. "You'll have your car ready by tomorrow morning. But for now, you get a free, one-night stay with our security guards." She then moves to you, barely changing her expression until she speaks up again. "There's a bus stop left to the exit." A hint of a smile shows on her face, hardly noticeable. Had you blinked, it wouldn't have shown. "The next one should be here in ten minutes."

You nod, too shocked for words. Out of the two years you spent being friends with Jerry, a few months of dating, and a few more of marriage, this was one of the few occasions where you'd seen him react this way. "Thank you." You take Frisk's hand and walk with them out of the beach, steps slow as you consider what's happened. You want to recall times when he'd acted similar to today, yet your mind runs short, only pleasant memories and the day he left you showing up. Anything else is blanked out, bringing out your frustration through a huff.

"Are you okay?"

On the verge of letting unwanted emotions show, you bite on your lower lip and face down at Frisk, managing a smile. "I'm okay."

They stay quiet and let go of your hand to sign their next words. "Is it still okay for me to hang out with Jerry?"

You hum in agreement, maintaining your smile. "Of course it is." Your hands shake and you try wringing them to control it. Frisk notices, a hint of red still visible on your skin. "...Just as long as he's sober and treating you well. Don't worry about me, honey."

They frown and keep their eyes on your wrists. You struggle to hide that from them, though they persist by saying, "I… I don't wanna hang out with him anymore. He hurt you."

Anger spikes, making you blurt out the first thing on your mind, "The monsters hurt you, too. And yet I'm still giving them a second chance."

Frisk furrows their gaze and looks up at you. "It's different with them. They stopped when I told them to, and they knew what they did wrong in no time at all." Their nose scrunches up and their frown turns to a scowl, displaying their anger by the double. "Jerry barely even listened to you the first few times. And... And even now he's still not listening!" They hiccup, body trembling as tears gather in their eyes. "T- Toriel gave me a place to stay after I ran away, Papyrus was nice to me all along, an- and Alphys tried to help me... even if she wasn't too good at it."

"And what about Undyne? She attacked you right from the start, didn't she?" you comment, hands on your hips. "And Sans? Didn't he threaten you once, even though you'd done no harm?" You're outright livid now, self-hatred manifesting itself when you realize how naïve you'd been.

You'd carelessly kissed the very same man who'd threatened your child.

What was different between him and your once husband?

They'd both submitted your child into danger, be it directly or not.

Why were you bothering yourself with the monsters, then?

Worse yet, why were you thinking about dating one of them?

And what was the point in all of-

"Heya."

You're interrupted by the sound of the same man's voice. Not Jerry's, but Sans's. You blink through your fury and look to his side, seeing Frisk has already run off to the back seat of the car. They're smiling again despite the tears in their eyes, and they respond with a nod when the monster asks them if they're alright. "Ren's not," they sign, attempting to be discreet, yet failing.

Reluctantly, you make it to the front passenger seat and thank the skeleton when he opens up the door for you, magic granting him the ability to do it without much movement needed on his part. "Did Frisk call you?" Your eyes refuse to stare at him, focusing instead on the bus already approaching from a few more blocks away.

"Yeah," he replies, changing the gear stick from park to drive. "Don't mean to pry, but…" He's silent for some time, car staying still. "Wanna talk about it over lunch tomorrow?"

When you try to look at him, your gaze can only focus on his face, a grim reminder of what you'd done not too long ago. If you wanted to be a responsible parent, you needed to get a hold of yourself. "...Sure." You relax your posture while he begins the drive. At a red light, you continue with, "Thank you."

Now able to face you, Sans grins and later winks, hands kept on the wheel. "Anythin' for you, (Y/N)."

You squirm at the sound of him saying your name, battling away any feelings for him.

Whether Frisk's or your own words were true, you still had to be strong, both for their sake and yours.

End of Arc 1 | Ruins

Start of Arc 2 | Enemy Approaching

“It is necessary that the weakness of the powerless is transformed into a force capable of announcing justice. For this to happen, a total denouncement of fatalism is necessary. We are transformative beings and not beings for accommodation.”

– Paulo Freire, Pedagogia do Oprimido

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

• • •

Jesucristo, this is only the 1st arc, and yet we're already at 200+ pages!

I hardly have enough motivation to read a book with more than 500 pages or watch a series with more than 5 seasons or 30 episodes, so I commend anyone who sticks with this story until the very end. Ironic how I can write a Bible's worth of fanfiction, but not read or watch the same amount in books and series, ain't it? My attention span is miniscule for anything besides my holy trinity: college, tutoring, and writing, so let's blame it on that, shall we?

Anyway, here's an overview of all the arcs for those who haven't seen it on the updated description:

Arc 1 | Ruins

Chapters 1 to 15 (Complete!!) | Exposition (The fact that 200+ pages were exposition, lmao.)

Arc 2 | Enemy Approaching

Chapters 16 to 25 (Already written -- Only need to edit according to the changes made for this rewrite!) | Rising Action

Arc 3 | Pathetic House

Chapters 26 to 30 | Climax

Arc 4 | Spear of Justice

Chapters 31 to 40 | Falling Action

Arc 5 | Here We Are

Chapters 41 to 50 | Resolution, Part 1

Arc 5.5/Final Arc | Good Night

Chapters 51 to 55 | Resolution, Part 2

Goal: NOT EXCEED 1,000 PAGES. DEAR LORD.

Actual Goal: Write up a sweet, feel-good story for as much people as possible to enjoy, plus a late n' trashy love letter to Undertale.

As always, take care and stay safe, y'all. <3

• • •

Tag List (Comment or message me if you want to be added to [or removed from] it!)

@the-simp-express

@nektotersh

@disastrous-l0vebug

@therealchickenjoe

@mintyflakes025

@pandaquick

@timelock97

@candle-creeps

@paperb9gs

[epic-potato-crisp]

Courtship - Part 3 (AjinWeek21/1)

Notes: So I decided to continue this for Ajin Week 2021! (although I was torn between making this a Sato fic cause you know. Hat.)

Day 1: Favorite character / summer break/ hat

Favourite character: Both Kei and Kou are among my favourite characters, Kei especially is one of my favourite protagonists of all time, and summer break, because this place during the sweltering time that is training camp. (fun! :D)

————————-

“Really?” Kei asks with growing annoyance as the vampire movie plays out on the screen in front of them. “Really?!”

“I can’t believe you haven’t seen that!” Kou defends himself, depositing the bowl of chips into Kei’s lap so his hands are free to adjust the volume.

“This is not what I had in mind when I agreed to…well, dating you.” Kei says, lowering his volume at the last three words that seem a little too foreign too pronounce.

“Why not?” Kou replies, “Movie nights are a super normal thing to do, not even for a date-“ He in comparison, has zero trouble adequately naming their current situation – “or with friends!” He smirked, which could never mean anything good: “Which you’d know, if you had any-“ Kou winces as Kei’s elbow rams into his side.

“I did have friends.” Kei grumbles through his teeth, stretching out his feet over the old and battered, but still quite comfortable couch. This is, surprisingly, afar more relaxing activity than he had initially anticipated.

Even if the movie is grating on his nerves.

“Why is everyone trying to befriend her?” he asks, exasperatedly. Bella Swan had made it perfectly clear that she was not interested in socializing from the moment she had arrived in her father’s rainy suburban town. And yet, in the first half an hour, not only had her childhood best friend shown up, she’d also been introduced to numerous classmates and faculty, and on top of that, was subtly encouraged to take a glance at a family of – vampire’s, that was his most likely prediction based on what he’d heard of the plot.

“Well, she’s new and people wanna get to know her. Nothing wrong with that.” Kou said diplomatically.

“Ugh.” Kei groans, and takes a sip of his coke. Eriko had always tried to make him watch these movies, which, if he was correct, were five in number, because apparently it was no enough to have a fourth movie. No, it had two be dragged out across two volumes. So far, he had been able to avoid it. Until training camp.

“Which you’d know, if you’d had-“

“Shut the fuck up.” Kei snaps, and the mood sours for a moment.

“Right, right, I’m sorry.” Kou says, after a beat of silence, and then his hand reaches over to grasp Kei’s.

“Is that really necessary?” Kei mutters, feeling his cheeks heat up. He prays that the darkness of the room, only lit up faintly by the TV, serves as enough cover.

“Well, it’s a date, right?”

“Stop saying that all the time.”

“Date. Date. Daaate.” Kou sing-songs, grinning at Kei knowingly.

The latter glowers: “Are you in elementary school?”

Kou laughs. He still doesn’t let go of Kei’s hand.

Kei feels his heartbeat quicken, ever so slightly, nervousness manifesting in the pit of his stomach. He chalks it up to the unfamiliar situation. After all, he really doesn’t know whether the movie will provide suitable entertainment for the next one and a half hours. There is no way it has anything to do with Kou.

At least, it shouldn’t.

“If you could choose between being a vampire and an Ajin, what would you pick?” Kou asks, out of the blue.

The movie had ended just a little while ago, a pointless two hours and six minutes of a supernatural romance that Kei couldn’t care less for. It was a little past ten, and they were not finished for a long while, apparently, if the cover for the second movie, blinking traitorously in Izumi’s streaming library, was anything to go by.

“Not this again.” Kei sighs, “Do you spend all day on these unlikely scenarios?”

“It’s that not unlikely.” Kou argues, “Come on, a few years back, you didn’t even know Ajin existed! And now you’re one!”

“Of course I knew they existed. It’s part of the school curriculum.” Kei deadpans, this particular lesson still rather unsettlingly fresh in his memory.

“Which you’d know if you’d gone to school.” He adds, acidly.

“Wow, harsh.” Kou pouts, “I did go. I just…dropped out. There’s a difference. Everyone knows that.” He mumbles.

“Keep telling yourself that” is on the tip of Kei’s tongue, but he swallows it down, if only to retain the peace. And perhaps because he would feel the tiniest bit guilty further prodding at that sore spot.

But school is something he does not want to think about for a good while again. The memory brings only pain. Betrayal from his classmates, from teachers, a jealousy- one that Kou would never be able to comprehend - on missing out on education that is a given for his former classmates.. A High School degree that he will never receive, if the government has any say in it, after all the years and effort, the hours of studying and revising he has put into it. A bleak future with all paths to prestigious medical universities blocked irreversibly. His only crime had been crossing that road that day. If only I could be reborn, Kei thinks miserably, then I could get a new chance. chance. He is in dire need of a new identity. Perhaps he can later guilt Tosaki into creating one for him.

“So circling back to the topic at hand, vampires.” he says, reluctantly.

“Heck yeah.” Kou agrees, excitedly, “So?”

“There are pros and cons on both sides.” Kei shrugs, “If you were a vampire, you wouldn’t be able to age and have a career, build a reputation. You’d have to get a new identity every few years. That sounds like a hassle. And don’t get me started on the…blood lust.”

The vampires and even humans in the movie had looked hungry in a completely different way whenever that topic came up. As though sucking your body’s circulatory system dry was desirable under any circumstance. Kei shuddered at the thought.

“You mean, you wouldn’t be able to build a family, live out your life with your friends, that kinda stuff?” Kou asks.

“I was referring to the important things, but I suppose.” Kei says loftily.

“Yeah, well, you’re wrong about that. Even vampires enjoy having relationships.” Kou argued.

“Debatable.”

“Bella seems pretty happy with the Edward guy.” his teammate emphasizes, “No matter if he’s a vampire or not.”

“But it is going to be a problem in the future.” Kei argues, “Honestly, she should have just stayed with Jacob and been done with it. It’s a suitable match, why put in any extra effort? She’s just going to grow old while he stays young forever.”

“Figures you’d go with the childhood best friend.” Kou mutters, flicking crumbs of his trousers.

“What?”

But Kou – strangely, for once in his life- doesn’t seem to haven an emergent need to elaborate further on the matter.

Kei probably should have said something a long time ago.

Perhaps he should have stopped Kou from starting the blasted second movie, but “Kei, it’s not that late! And how else will you know how it ends?” (Apparently, never was not a viable option.)

So here they are, sitting through another two hours of what Kou calls an “iconic classic” and Kei under his breath refers to as trash, but not the recyclable kind.

The cinematography is stunning, he has to admit begrudgingly, and the plot, albeit ridiculous, still manages to draw him in enough for him to forego his plans of turning the movie off several times, which is quite bothersome.

Well, fine then, Kei thinks to himself, at least now if Eriko badgers him about those movies again, he can give her a detailed review of every single logical error he has discovered so far.

He is considering starting a list, just so as to have some backup proof. His little sister’s education doesn’t have to suffer any more than it already had.

“Is she really going to sit around for months and wait for him to come back?” Kei complains, grabbing a fist full of popcorn from the bowl Hirasawa had made for them, “That’s a complete waste of time.”

“I don’t know, don’t you think some people are worth waiting for?” Kou threw in, giving Kei a knowing -sort-of-look that he couldn’t place.

It was the first sentence he had spoken in a while. Apart from his rambling monologue to get Izumi to join them a while prior when she came in to check if the streaming service was working.

“Did you see these movies already, Izumi-san?” Kou had asked and Kei surely hadn’t imagined the blush pinkening her cheeks.

“Oh, those? Just…once.” she’d replied, her voice sounding a little too high-pitched for that to be true, “It all seems fine, so I should get going-“

“Ah, already? Take a seat, take a seat!” Kou says generously, gesturing to the couch, “You need a break too, right?”

And Izumi did, albeit only tentatively on the edge. “I’ll be gone in a few minutes.” she promises.

She lied. Fifteen minutes later, she is still there and Kei doesn’t have the heart to kick her out, despite this being a a date, as he not so subtly communicated to Kou via verbal cues – all of which the other successfully ignored -but then, he bitterly thought, what chance did their pseudo-trial stand against Kou’s immortal woman of his dreams?

His thoughts screech to a halt. What does he even care what Kou thinks about either of them? It was all beyond ridiculous.

“It depends on how long you’re waiting for them.” Kei says, in response to Kou’s earlier question, “What about you, Izumi-san?”

“I think some relationships are worth preserving.” Izumi replies meaningfully, but right before she can say anything else, her phone goes off, the Caller-ID flashing with a familiar name.

“It seems Tosaki-san needs my assistance.” she says, barely concealing a wistful sigh, “Have fun you two.”

“He really needs to stop working you to the bone.” Kou complains.

Kei has the decency to feel guilty about the relief that settles in him when she leaves.

The motorcycle ride looks engaging. An activity Kei himself wouldn’t mind doing, seeing as there was zero risk involved to his safety with his newfound Ajin status.

As he verbalizes all of this, Kou gives him yet another of these knowing looks.

“Well, you were always one for motorcycles, weren’t you?” he says, tone bordering on smug.

Kei frowns. “Where did you get that idea from? I’ve only ridden one so far, but that was with Kaito.”

“I know.” Kou says, and then downs the rest of his coke.

“Refill?” he asks, holding out his hand for Kei’s glass.

“Sure.” Kei says, passing it over. He eyes Nakano skeptically, for any hint as to why his demeanor kept fluctuating.

“Here you go.”

“Thanks.” Kei cautiously takes the glass from him. Their fingers brush, lingering just a second too long to be casual. Kei notices how the tips of Kou’s ears redden and uses his momentary distraction to his advantage.

“You really hate that Jacob guy, don’t you?”

Judging by the look on his teammate’s face, he hit the nail on the head.

“I, uh, well hate is a kinda strong word.” Kou hesitates, stumbling over words, “He’s just not my favourite.”

“Really?” Kei asks, raising an eyebrow. In all honesty, he isn’t very interested in either of the characters, but psychoanalyzing Kou is what gives the evening its spice.

“Why is that so surprising?” Kou pouts.

“Because he’s just the same sort of muscle-brained idiot that you are.” Kei responds, gracing Kou with an exasperated look, before turning back to the movie.

“Oh.”

His words seemed to have had a profound effect on his teammate. Whatever sort of enlightenment had reached Kou, it had visibly brightened his mood.

“He is, isn’t he.” Kou says, with a small laugh.

“I don’t know why that is so surprising.”

“Guess I never thought of it that way.”

Which was exactly why it fit so well, Kei thinks to himself. Kou looks positively thrilled with the new discovery. As much as it pains to admit him, a lot remains about his teammate that he still doesn’t understand.

“I think he might be becoming my new favourite character.” Kou says, conspiratorially, sliding closer to Kei and slinging arm around him.

As the movie goes on, Kei starts to feel more and more tired. The comfortable atmosphere and the constant stream of voices from the TV serve to lull him a sleepy state. “Wake me up when they reach Italy.” he mumbles, the exhaustion of another day spent training finally catching up with him.

Kou mumbles an affirmative, and that’s where Kei’s memory cuts off.

The next thing he knows, someone is prodding at him from the side, instructing him to wake up.

“Fine, five more minutes.” Kei says, swatting the offending hand away.

He blinks as he comes too, shielding his eyes against the sudden brightness of the room.

The movie has ended, but even if hadn’t, Kei wouldn’t have been able to see much of the screen.

Not with Tosaki blocking their view.

“It’s almost 1 am.” he informs them through clenched teeth, “Get upstairs before I sever the internet connection.”

It’s a substantial threat. Substantial enough to briefly distract Kei from the fact that he had fallen asleep right on top of Kou.

“Fuck.” Kei swears under his breath, sitting up straight.

His teammate seems less perturbed.

“You missed the ending.” is all Kou has to say for himself, with a shit-eating grin.

(“It really is pointless.” Kei whispers, later that night, as they are both lying in Kou’s bed, a hair-brained decision that Kei blames his tiredness for.

“The whole being with a vampire. She can’t be, unless someone turns her into one, but that would be the epitome of a ridiculous clishé".

“…”

“Oh God, please tell me I’m wrong.”)

[everybodyscupoftea]

expanding the drunkenness scale

frat jj x reader

words: 2690

warnings: the norms (alcohol, cursing)

synopsis: you finally get to see past six drink jj

a/n: requested by an anon; once again i must warn to drink responsibly!!! also i just passed 100 followers, thank you all so much for the support, i only started this up a few weeks ago, so this is crazy to me!

So, you’ve seen the ramifications of six drink JJ, barely standing, barely speaking coherently. Nothing could’ve prepared you for more than six drink JJ. It was almost like he caught a second wind, and it kind of felt like chasing a child around, he was so unpredictable.

One afternoon, after you got off of work, you saw you had about 15 texts from JJ about attending a baseball game. It had already started, but you confirmed with him that he was still there and started to drive toward the field.

You showed your student ID to get in and then walked to the bottom of the reserved student section to look for JJ and whatever friends he was there with. Before you could find him, you heard a loud, “Baby!” and looked up to see him all the way across the section, standing and waving at you. People looked between the two of you, amused, and you blushed at the sudden attention, quickly making your way to him.

“You’re drunk already?” you asked incredulously as he wrapped you up in a hug, hand reaching down to your ass.

“We pre-gamed!” he told you excitedly as you tried to get him to sit down.

He leaned into you, arm wrapped loosely around your shoulder and you sighed, “Yes, I see that. Do you even know the score, bud?”

JJ shrugged, eyes not leaving your face, “It’s tied.”

You looked around him at the scoreboard to see your school winning 5-2. Snorting out a laugh, you patted his shoulder, “Not quite, but good try.”

JJ waved your words off before brightening up, “Oh hey, we’re having a party tonight, you should come.”

“I know you are, you told me last week.”

“Oh,” he looked confused as he took a swig of a beer you didn’t even realize he had before continuing, “well are you coming?”

“Wouldn’t miss it, J.”

“Good, I need my forever date with me,” he tapped your nose, almost missing and nailing you eye instead.

From behind you, one of the guys with JJ that you didn’t recognized made a whipping noise at JJ’s response and JJ flipped him off, not looking away from you.

“You’re being cheesy today,” you told him, slight blush on your cheeks.

“Only for you.”

He finished his beer, and you sighed internally as he started to slump into you, “Did you drive?”

JJ lifted his head from your neck and shook his head, mumbling something incoherently.

“What?”

“Bryce drove,” he told you, slurring a little.

“Right, well I drove, you wanna leave and go take a nap?”

He perked up at the word nap and nodded enthusiastically. JJ’s knees buckled when he stood and you tucked yourself under his arm to keep him upright.

“Whoops,” he slurred out, giggling while you struggled to get him to your car.

“Fucking frat boys,” you mumbled under your breath as he tripped again, almost dragging both of you to the ground. After his third stumble in two minutes, you snapped, “Pick your feet up.”

“I’m frat man, baby, not boy.”

“Frat child,” you corrected as you helped him into the passenger seat of your car. You queued up a bunch of songs he likes as you drove to the frat house because if he fell asleep in the car you definitely wouldn’t be able to get him inside. It worked, and you had to repeat the half carry, half drag process all the way to his room to deposit him on his bed.

You started to leave his room and he whined, “Where are you going?”

“I have to go get dressed and pick us up some alcohol before the party in like four hours.”

“Nooo, sleep with me, you have clothes here.”

“I have workout clothes here,” you corrected.

“They look hot,” he shrugged, holding his hands out as if to pull you back.

A nap did sound really enticing. You were tired from your early morning shift, so you gave in, “Fine, but you can’t chirp me for my outfit later.”

JJ held his pinky out to you, “Promise.”

You linked pinkies and laid down next to him. He held his arm out and you put your head on his bicep. JJ curled his arm around your shoulders and both of you fell asleep quickly.

Not setting an alarm was a mistake because you were woken up by music signaling that the party had started already. You checked your phone to see a text from JJ that he had gone with Pope to buy you guys some alcohol and wanted to let you sleep since you seemed so tired.

You sighed and walked over to his closet to find something decent to wear. There was at least one pair of blue jean shorts which made you feel a bit better, and you brushed your teeth before walking downstairs to find your boyfriend and join the party.

JJ was in the kitchen mixing himself a drink when you found him, and he jumped when you wrapped your arms around his waist from behind. He quickly realized it was you and smiled, handing you the cup, “For you, milady.”

“Is it actually for me?”

“It is now.”

You took a sip, not knowing what to expect, and almost gagged when you tasted mostly vodka. He laughed at your betrayed face and held out the pitcher of lemonade to add some to your cup.

“Fuck, JJ, how drunk are you to already be drinking shit this strong?”

He furrowed his eyebrows while trying to come up with an answer, and shrugged, holding up three fingers, “I’ve had two drinks.”

You reached over to push one of his fingers back down, “There you go, two.”

“You’re so smart, babe,” he told you before yelling out, “I’m dating a genius!”

“Jesus, J,” you hissed, blushing as people in the kitchen stared at the two of you.

“The people need to know how elite you are.”

“They most definitely do not.”

JJ grinned mischievously before yelling out, “This girl is the greatest person in the world and I love her and no one can-“

You slapped a hand over his mouth, abruptly cutting him off and he licked your palm. With a grimace, you pinched his arm with your other hand, “That’s gross, J. Can I trust you to stop, now?”

He gently pushed your hand away before answering, “Probably not.”

And with that, JJ turned away to fix himself a drink. He grabbed your hand and pulled you into the living room where the beer pong tables were set up. There was an open end at the pairs table, so you and JJ took it to play against some two of the other guys who lived in the house.

“Hold my jacket, sweetheart, I don’t know how big this is gonna get,” he told you, stripping off his hoodie.

“I regret making you watch Footloose with me. I know that’s what you were going for there, but I hated it,” you told him seriously, and he just laughed loudly in response.

To say you were carrying the team was an understatement. JJ thought it would be fun to try out an arsenal of trick shots he’d been apparently hiding. The best one was when he attempted a softball pitch and pegged one of the other guys in the forehead. It landed in the cup and JJ cheered, throwing his arms around you in his excitement.

The other guys tried to argue that it didn’t count, but you glared at them until they glumly moved the cup to the side and re-racked the four remaining cups upon your request. They landed one of their shots and you knocked out three of the four, missing the last one.

“Dude,” JJ told them when he lined up to take his after they missed both of theirs, “we kicked your asses.”

“No thanks to you,” you threw in as JJ way overshot in his drunken state.

He grinned dopily at you and threw the last one, not even looking. Of course, it went in, and he leaned down to kiss you firmly.

They missed both of their redemption shots and you dragged JJ away before they could challenge you to a rematch. He finished his drink and you wordlessly handed him yours, still tasting too strongly of vodka for your liking.

JJ chugged the rest of it before setting your empty cups down. He dragged you to the backyard where the music was blasting and a crowd of drunk college students was dancing.

“Care to dance?” he asked, offering a hand.

You figured it was probably the best way to keep an eye on him, so you reluctantly followed him out into the crowd. What JJ meant by dance was holding your hands and jumping around, forcing you to jump with him, until he felt sick. He mumbled something about his tummy and bathroom and you let him go immediately, gently shoving him in the direction of the house.

JJ stumbled inside and you turned around to see Pope dancing nearby. You slid over to him and the two of you danced together for a few songs before you realized how long JJ had been gone and decided you should probably go check on him.

Pope slung an arm over your shoulder and walked with you inside, toward the bathroom. What you saw when you got there almost gave you an aneurism. JJ was sitting on the ground and John B was poised over him, electric razor in hand, clearly about to buzz JJ’s hair.

“Oh fuck,” Pope managed to get out between laughs at your facial expression. He hunched over, arms wrapped around his stomach, as JJ tried to scramble up.

“Maybank, I know you are not about to get your head shaved,” you told him, deadly serious voice, “I know I’m seeing this wrong.”

“No, babe, think about it. My head will feel so nice in the summer when it’s hot. It’s a win-win,” he explained earnestly.

You crossed your arms, “What’s the second win?”

He had no answer for that and instead tried to hug you. John B was slowly trying to get by you two without catching your attention and you poked his chest, “You know better, JB.”

John B shrugged, “To be fair, it was JJ’s idea.”

“When do we ever listen to drunk JJ?” you retorted, ignoring JJ’s defensive “hey!” in the background.

Pressing a kiss to your cheek, John B fully left the bathroom, dragging Pope with him. You looked at JJ and he grinned down at you, “So you’re saying I wouldn’t look good with no hair?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. You are wild past six drinks, bud.”

It didn’t even seem that your words registered with him because immediately after you stopped talking, he snapped his fingers, “Hey, we should go get Whataburger.”

The thought of Whataburger fries was really tempting, so you told JJ, “Stay here, I need to go get my keys and wallet and I’ll drive.”

JJ nodded, seriously, and you jogged off, not actually trusting him to stay in place. You were pretty quick, but by the time you got back to the bathroom, JJ was gone. With a sigh, you tucked your wallet in your back pocket and resigned yourself to having to look for your boyfriend again.

Just like the first time you walked downstairs, he was in the kitchen fixing himself a drink. This time he saw you and loped over to you, drink spilling a little bit. He threw his hands up, even more sloshing out, and cheered, “Honey butter chicken biscuit time!”

“Yes it is, let’s go.”

When you cranked your car up, you were a little surprised to see it was 3 a.m. and JJ immediately plugged his phone up, pulling up a One Direction playlist which he shamelessly listened to pretty regularly.

He rolled his window down and leaned out as you drove down the street, screaming the lyrics to Drag Me Down. You knew he liked feeling the wind in his hair, so you sped a little bit, just for him. When you pulled into the Whataburger drive-thru, he got all the way back in and smiled over at you and said, “Baby, I feel so alive,” just as the song Alive started playing.

You gave him a blank look and ordered his food and a medium fry for yourself. JJ tore into the food almost immediately as you pulled back into the street to drive to the house. He seemed uninterested in joining the party again as he sat in the passenger seat, alternating between bites of the biscuit and sips of his probably mostly vodka drink.

After you parked, JJ stayed sitting as he slowly finished his food and drained the rest of his drink. You nudged him a few times with your elbow to get his attention, “You wanna go upstairs or you wanna rejoin the party.”

He put some serious thought into it before deciding, “Bed time.”

You grabbed your booksack out of the backseat and the two of you went straight upstairs to the bathroom. Locking the door, you made him brush his teeth and get ready for bed. He started to strip out of his clothes and you quickly batted his hands away from where he was tugging his shirt, “Stop it, babe, wait until we get back to your room.”

JJ winked, “Why wait? The door is locked.”

“We’re going to bed, not having sex,” you told him bluntly and swung the door open.

He sighed, grabbing your hand, and followed you down the hall to his room. Dramatically flopping onto the bed, JJ held his arms out to you, “Let’s sleep, I guess, since you don’t love me anymore.”

You rolled your eyes, “I still love you, but you can’t speak without slurring and I’m pretty sure you won’t even remember this conversation in the morning.”

“Probably not,” he admitted, burying his face into your chest. It only took about 45 seconds until he was snoring and you pressed a kiss to the top of his head fondly.

The next morning, you woke up around 10 and decided to sit at the desk he had shoved in the corner to work on a paper for your Child Psychology class. After about 45 minutes, you went downstairs to make some coffee for yourself and the rest of the house, and brought a steaming mug back upstairs to drink while finishing the last two pages of your paper.

You’d just finished editing and submitting it when JJ finally woke up around 1 p.m. He shuffled around a few times, pressing his face into a pillow with a groan.

Laughing softly, you walked over to the bed and sat down next to his head, running your hand through his hair a few times. He pushed his head into it with a slight whine, “My head hurts.”

“I bet it does, sweetheart,” you soothed.

He pouted up at you and you grabbed the medicine and water bottle you’d set up on his bedside table. Clumsily kissing your cheek, he took the medicine and slowly sipped at the water. After clearing his throat a few times, he broke the silence, “How much did I drink yesterday?”

“Well from what I know, you started pre-gaming at 9 a.m. so I imagine your blood is mostly alcohol today.”

“Brain is a little fuzzy,” he admitted.

“You want some coffee?” you asked, starting to stand.

He whined again and wrapped his arms around your waist before you could leave, “Stay.”

Sitting back down, you started stroking his hair again, “You sure, J? I can get you some food while I’m down there.”

“Later,” he mumbled, moving his head to your lap. After about five minutes of you playing with his hair, he was out like a light again, face smushed into the lower part of your stomach, drooling a little bit. You moved to lean back against the headboard and settled in, pulling up Netflix on your phone. Food could wait.

***

tagging: @girlsru1eboysdroo1​ @katiaw2​

if anyone else is interested in being tagged in frat jj stuff, let me know!

[allandoflimbo]

Bad Guy

Summary: You experience another night out in your new hometown. One that has you reaching for a drink, and maybe ending with a certain someone between your legs.

Warnings: Drinking, cursing, and (mild, well for me) fucking.

A/N: This is a submisstion for @amanda-teaches​ 2k Writer + Reader Challenge. My prompt was “Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.” This was really fun to write. Thank you for letting me participate in this! And I hope you really enjoy this one. :) It’s pretty light hearted. As most of you know, I will no longer post my writing on Tumblr, i’ll just be sticking to my other platforms now. If you wanna check me out i’ll be on AO3, mostly. This is my final closing. :)

The night was turning crisp, a heavy contrast to what it had been that afternoon. 

It had been humid and overbearingly hot; too scorching for a late August summer. 

It was around six o’clock when the temperature had dropped a sudden ten degrees. Now it was pleasant, and those that had hidden away all day in their air conditioned homes, finally decided to venture out into the cooling air. 

There was an intense misconception about New York City that not many understood, not until they experienced it first hand, at least.

Sure, it was beautiful in its bright lights and air that seemed to ooze hope for everyone’s future. It gave off a vibe that made you admit, that yeah, it kind of was like the movies. 

Except that it wasn’t.

From afar, it was quite the spectacular, but as you narrowed down and took a closer look, you’d see it for what it really was.

The brownstone buildings that housed the speakeasies and restaurants on the ground floor; they were beautiful, surly. 

So were the homes across the streets, with their lights still on.

 The streets, they were nice too. 

People stood all around, greeting new friends and old ones, talking about which place they would go to next or which bar.

You liked the village. It had its pros and cons, but at the end of the day, you were glad you settled for that fifteen hundred dollar studio on the first floor. 

It had a nice view of the deli and the prestigious restaurant across the street, and it was a brownstone.

Yeah, all of that was really nice.

Except when you took a closer look and realized that even the prettiest of things had its faults.

Those streets filled with smiles and laughter also had trash bags piled up every ten feet and on every corner. 

Those restaurants and speakeasies - the brownstones were older so the walls outside the building were washed out, aged. 

The air also had a strange, but yet addicting, smell. 

It was a mixture of all the restaurants around mixed with booze. 

The stairs that led down into the restaurant entrances were old and rusted. 

The ATMs that lounged outside each one - because that’s right, most of them only take fucking cash - six out of ten of them were always out of service and served as nothing but mediocre décor next to the window. 

Heavy graffiti lined their sides.

The doors to the restaurants were older, too. Some of them never even closed properly or were too damn heavy.

And your apartment...it was perfect. 

You’d have to settle into become a minimalist to even fit your bed inside. 

The flooring was also old and scratched and the walls needed a new paint job. But it wasn’t too bad. It could’ve been worst.

But you loved it. 

You loved the feeling of the city around you, and you loved how you had made your new friends so easily after moving in from your old home in little ole’ Ohio. 

You loved going to bed being able to hear the life outside, the laughters and sound of people making new memories and falling in love.

And those restaurants and speakeasies that looked flawed up close, they were anything but inside.

The owners  were always so imaginative. The lighting was always warm, there were always people inside enjoying life and the food- in every single one of them.

Because, that’s right, all their food were good food.

New York City was beautifully flawed. 

It was just what you were looking for.

You think this to yourself for the hundredth time since you moved here as you walk down the street towards a new bar you hadn’t been to yet.

You pass by locals as well as tourists and it’s nice. 

You’re about to cross the street when you see a couple getting out of their little apartment. 

Your heart warms as you see the man take the girl’s hand in his, both of them giggling as they prepare for a night out of making memories.

You feel your phone vibrate as you arrive to the other side of the intersection. 

You hear a car horn in the distant and a nice summer breeze blow in through your hair.

You open your lock screen.

Nat

You here yet?

You quickly type away a message while also trying to avoid walking into others coming in the opposite direction as you.

You hold tighter onto your bag as it bumps into a girl, your small heels clacking beneath your feet. 

You open your map to see the distance of the location and then reply back to her.

I’m a block away.

You see it from where you’re standing and it had it a decent sized line to get inside. 

Budapëis

It read in white letters on the blackout windows.

You sped up a bit as you got closer, your excitement growing in your belly.

It doesn’t take much longer after you’ve been in line to realize it was actually moving pretty quickly.

A larger and dark man greets you at the entrance and you hand him your ID which he quickly scans. He gives it back to you and you thank him.

Inside the bar was loud. The people chatted away happily and the music thrummed in your bones. It was also very dark, the only light being the orange glows of the candles on some of the tables and the dimmed warm lights hanging above.

You watched as the cute male bartenders worked proficiently and sync, but also making sense to make small talk with each client as much as they could over the loud noise. 

A girl says excuse me but still manages to nudge into you.

Spinning your head around, you realize there are no more seats left to sit and it makes sense why half of the people were all standing around and huddled like cattle.

Oh boy.

You feel a tug on your arm and you spin around to see Nat holding a Martini in her right hand, her left arm going in for an immediate hug.

“You made it!” She says.

“Of course!” You hope she can hear you.

She pulls away and tugs you towards her, “Come on, we’re all in the back.”

You let her lead you to the “back” which is really just a small space in the corner of the bar. 

You immediately recognize Steve, Sam, and Wanda from afar.

“Oh, hey, you made it!” Steve yells, grabbing you in a tight hug.

“Hey, Y/N” “Oh, hey.” Sam and Wanda greet you.

“Hi, sorry I took a bit long. I was doing laundry.”

“Ha.” Sam snorts out loud, “come on you need a drink.” He adds.

“I will, I will —“ you dart your eyes to his own cup and point, “what’s that?”

“New York sour. Tastes like shit. Wanna try?” He says way too excitedly.

“Sure.” He hands you his glass and you take a sip.

You barely have the tip of the glass all the way out of your mouth when a body hits you on your side, making you stumble. 

The drink doesn’t spill crazily, but it’s enough to get on your hand and to leave it sticky, leaving you annoyed. 

You’re also not too fond of the face full of hair you just got and the elbow that keeps nudging into the side of your rips.

You stumble a few centimeters to the left, because seriously, it’s not like you have an option right now.

You look over to the girl who is now laughing and talking exceptionally loud with Nat and all your friends.

Did they really not see that? 

But you wouldn’t blame them, there was barely any light in the place anyway. 

If it weren’t for Sam reaching over the girl’s head to grab your glass, you’d be certain he had forgotten all about you.

You hand it back, cringing as you try not to elbow the girl in the face. 

Sure, she was rude, but you weren’t going to return that sentiment. 

“What’d you think, Y/N?” Sam shouts to you.

It’s then, finally, when the girl looks over at you. 

She was drop dead gorgeous. At least 5’9. Her hair was a natural light brown and her eyes a piercing green.

Clearly a model trying to make it big in the city.

Her face is emotionless at first but then she attempts a smile. 

You feel awkward under her gaze, awaiting an apology when Sam pulls you around. 

“Come on, lets get ya something good.” He says, dragging you the bar.

You follow him until you’re at the side of the counter closest to when you first came in.

You sigh, already dreading this night, when you overhear Sam ordering two shots of tequila and two lemons.

“Me and you, y/l/n.” He says, taking the glass from the cute bartender.

Sam hands you the shot and you both countdown together before taking it simultaneously. 

You chase it with the lemon, and okay yeah, you feel a little bit better.

“Glad we finally got ya out to a real bar.” Sam smiles.

You shrug.

“It’s been a while. Been busy trying to work, book places.”

“Oh, yeah, what is it that you do again?”

“I’m a singer, Sam. Whole reason I came from Ohio. Hello?”

He shoots you an infectious grin.

“I know, I’m just messing with you.”

You sigh. 

Sometimes you did feel like people forgot though, especially in a city with 8 million other people trying to reach the same dream as you.

You hang around your friends for a bit longer, finally, finally getting the opportunity to wish Nat a happy birthday.

It must’ve been about an hour now later and you’re glad that one girl was gone. 

Whoever she was.

“Is Bucky still coming?” Sam asks randomly out loud.

“He said he would get here as soon as he was done with his shift.” Steve mumbles, looking down at his phone, a glass filled with amber alcohol in his other hand.

“Shocked he’s taking so long. Wonder if he knows Aubrey is here.” Sam says.

“He’s an ass. And a whore. He knows.” Nat screams over to the guys.

You look over at Nat and Wanda and you see them already out of it giggling while looking at some guys’ Instagram feed.

“I’m gonna get another drink.” You announce.

“Hell yeah you are, y/l/n!” Sam yells with a wink.

Steve elbows him in the side.

“Stop peer pressuring her.” He says.

“I’m not, she just needs to let loose—“ he voice fades as you walk away. 

You sigh, suddenly feeling exhausted. You contemplated ordering some fries or maybe mozzarella sticks.

You fold your arms onto the cold counter, waiting for the bartender to give you his full attention. 

It takes a bit with the amount of people he’s serving along with the other bartender.

Finally he looks over at you and he smiles bright. 

God, so cute.

You lean your head on your hand.

“Hi, can I have a gin and tonic?”

He taps the table top.

“Sure thing.” You watch his arms flexing as he makes your drink. 

Mmm.

He slides it to you with a wink.

“You on a tab?”

You tell him Nat’s name and everything necessary and he nods. 

You sip your drink, letting the music drown and numb you along with the alcohol. Your finger trails the condensation on the glass gingerly.

“Hey, man.”

A soothing voice comes up next to you, greeting the bartender.

The bartender’s face lights up.

“No, way. Finally out of his damn shell.” The bartender greets him with a over hand handshake.

You slide over to the side a bit, giving them some space. 

The man next to you orders a drink, giving the bartender his card and requesting a tab.

You feel the heat of his presence as he leans on his own arms  over the counter right next to you, and you can’t help smelling the delicious smell of cologne wafting off his body. 

You don’t know if it’s the alcohol but you feel yourself biting on your bottom lip, and sticking your ass in the air, still dragging your hand up and down the glass. 

But this time on purpose.

It doesn’t work.

You look over to take a look at the man in question and you swoon.

His dark brown hair was begging to be pulled and he had the softest of scruff on his face. 

He wore a black leather jacket and jeans and shoes that looked way too expensive. 

You drag your eyes back up his body to see a smirk, and fuck, he’s looking straight at you.

Those eyes. They were so blue.

You blush faintly, turning back to your glass and taking another sip.

You know he’s still there, eyes stilling lingering on you.

He takes his drink and then clears his throat.

You’re expecting him to say something when he leaves.

Your smile fades and you feel a weird emptiness. Rejection? 

No that couldn’t be it. 

You’re finishing your drink when your eyes drift back up to your friends.

Sam, Steve, Wanda, and Nat are all smiling. 

But then Steve is smiling more and the commotion is even bigger as they spin around.

You perk a brow as you watch the man that was just next to you a few moments ago greet your friends.

Was that Bucky? The infamous asshole?

He was beautiful. 

Of course he was. 

You try to compose yourself before walking back over to your friends.

Sam looks at you disappointed, eyes darting to your empty hands.

“I thought you were getting a drink.”

“I already drunk it, dumbass.”

“Why drink there, drink here.”

You chuckle, your eyes darting to Bucky briefly who eyes you for a moment making a connection.

His friends were your friends too.

There was something strange the entire time, about the connection in the air between you two. 

It must’ve been the alcohol. He was way out of your league. 

But you didn’t understand the asshole your friends were talking about. Well, not that you really knew him that much anyway.

As you pretend to be intrigued in your conversation with Nat and Wanda, yours was actually focused on Bucky.

It’s like you both are playing a playful game of who can catch the other looking first. 

You find yourself licking your lip...twirling your hair around your finger…

You swear he’s staring at your finger. 

God, what was happening to you?

“Hey, babe!”

You heart Plummets into your stomach as you see the same girl from before (the one who spilled the drink on you) wrapping her arms around Bucky’s neck and oh yeah, she’s definitely sticking her tongue down his throat.

You feel your heart in your stomach and the strong taste of the gin in your mouth.

He pulls away with a moan and a slight grimace.

“Hey, Aubrey. What are you doing here?” 

His hands go to her arms, prying her off of him.

“I came with a few friends and ran into yours. You haven’t been answering any of my messages.”

“Yeah, we broke up, remember?”

Everyone’s attention is now to Bucky and Aubrey as they watch their interaction.

“But come on, just one more night, one more good fuck for all times sake.”

A heavy snicker leaves your throat, but you quickly try to disguise it by pretending to wipe your mouth. 

The girl’s head spins towards you and she peaking a brow at you.

She quickly ignores you and turns back to Bucky.

“Come on, Bucky.”

Bucky looks over it.

“Aubrey, Aubrey stop.” He says seriously.

She pulls back from him and they stare at each other for a moment longer before she scoffs and spins on her heel.

You turn away from the scene, suddenly needing another drink or at least some fresh air.

You settle for the latter, telling your friends you’d be right back.

You settle to lean back against the brick wall of the bar, taking in the sweet smell of a summer night.

The contrast of the silence outside felt amazing your ears, and the small amount of alcohol in your system only made it better.

You cursed yourself for being a horny little freak. But you chuckle to yourself as you pull out your phone. You couldn’t help that you needed physical attention.

You’re skimming through your emails when you feel someone next to you. You look up to see Bucky, his left shoulder leaning on the wall right next to you.

You find yourself smiling at his little smirk and you bite your bottom lip, looking away.

“You were trying to get my attention so bad before, and now you don’t want to talk?” He asks playfully.

You shake your head, but you still have a smile on your face.

You feel your cheeks grow hot.

“Wow, seriously?” “Am I wrong?”

You think about your answer as you continue to look through your emails, except at this point you were just trying to look like you were.

“No, but that was before I realized who you were.”

His smiled slides off slowly.

“What do you mean?” 

You finally decide to put your phone away and you spin around to look at him, now face to face.

The look in his eyes are intense and you find yourself blushing. You knew all these things about him, but yet he had this aura about him, almost like everyone else was wrong.

Your eyes dart from his eyes and to his lips.

“Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.” You say quietly.

When he doesn’t say anything, you look back up until your eyes meet.

“Are they wrong?” He asks.

Your perk a brow at his answer.

“I—I don’t know.” 

He chuckles.

“Exactly.”

You nod, pushing yourself off the wall. You take a deep breath, looking at the people on the street.

“It’s getting late, I should get going.”

Bucky nods, still not moving from his spot.

“Okay, yeah.”

You stay glued to where you are, your eyes darting back to his.

“Yeah.” You repeat back.

You watch as the tip of his tongue licks his lips. You feel the heat in your core and you feel the heavy beating in your chest.

“Do you live close by?” He asks huskily, looking over your shoulder.

____

You don’t know how it happened, but one minute he had you up against the public hallway wall of your apartment building - where literally anyone could see you - and the next he was pushing your jeans passed down your hips in your living room.

You groaned as your lips connected again, and as you pulled on his hair again.

He cursed into your lips as he cupped your center, feeling how wet you already were for him. 

You whimpered as he rubbed small circles over your clit, before finally inserting his finger deep inside of you.

He pushed you down onto your bed, his left hand still fucking you. You lifted your left leg onto the bed and he groaned into your mouth as he quickened the pace of his hand. 

You threw your head back, moaning.

You felt your desire quickly dissipate as he pulled away from you.

Bucky chuckled at your whine, but your disappointment was short lived as your watched him pull his shirt and jeans off.  

You did the same with your own top and then your bra.

He was on you in a hot second, capturing your lips in a long kiss that had your toes curling against your blanket.

When he pulled away you were captivated by how delicious he looked. You also couldn’t help but swoon at the look he had in his eyes. 

Endearment? You weren’t sure.

Your fingers trail over the side of his face as he continues to stare down at you.

“I’m not the bad guy,” he kisses you. He slides into you with a grunt, “I swear, I’m not him.” He kisses you again.

Your hook your left leg over his hip, pulling him in deeper into your hot core.

You pull away from his mouth, your left hand going down to his stomach.

“Fuck. Fuck.” You pant heavily. It felt too good too fast and you know he felt it too as he stretched his forearms on either side of your head.

A long whimper leaves his lips as he sets a faster pace, fucking you into your bed.

He almost looses it completely when he feels you reaching down to rub at your clit, your fingers hitting the base of his cock and his little hairs.

You feel your pussy tightening around him and you know you’re so damn close.

“Yeah, come on, baby. That’s it.” He coaxes you, panting desperately into the crook of your neck.

You feel the fire burning in the pit of your tummy and you know that with a few more thrusts and a few more rubs on your clit that you were done for.

The sounds in your little apartment were filthy. You could hear his hips snapping against yours and both of your groans.

He slowed down his pace as you felt yourself come undone.

“Shit, I’m cumming.” You tell him through gritted teeth, your face only millimeters from his.

He has a wicked smirk on his face and some of his sweaty strands of hair stick to his forehead.

“Me too, fuck, I’m cumming, too.” He says.

You scream as you pulse around his hard cock, not missing the way his own eyes squeeze together, a strong grunt leaving his mouth.

His hips slow down to a stop and when you open your eyes again, he’s already staring down at you.

“Nice to meet you, Bucky.” You say, running your hand through his hair.

Bucky chuckles as he leans forward to leave a kiss on your collarbone.

[shaekingshitup]

MIRACLES HAPPEN

DAY ONE: TANGERINE

A/N: Y’ALL! I WAS DUPED! @teakturn puts out a 25 Days of Christmas every year and my dumbass said I would do it too. But I decided to add a little diversity to the culture and we’re doing a Chrismukkah adventure this year on this blog! This is picking up after this request that I got earlier this year. None of this shit is proofread because I am literally just writing by the seat of my pants so read at your own discretion. I will probably end up rewriting this entire mini series in the future. But enjoy it now. If you wanna be tagged, lmk! Also, I know that in In Sight I said there was a cure for COVID. Swap that out for a vaccine y’all. Viruses can’t be cured. 

Word Count: 2300 

DAY ONE: TANGERINE

December 18, 2022

“Baby you ready?!” Tre called into the house as reached into the basket on his way to the garage. He came up empty handed for the keys to his Lexus. Opening the door to the garage, he saw Sol sitting in the passenger seat of the running car. 

Tre walked over to his baby as Sol smirked at him. 

“You late again,” she said. 

“I’m never late,” Tre said opening the door and climbing in,  “You just early as always,” he shot back as he put the car in reverse. Sol playfully rolled her eyes. After two years of being together, this was always their running joke. The first time they’d met, she’d been pacing back and forth awaiting his arrival. Even after finding their own groove, she still found herself being the one waiting for him- but, he always made it worth it so it was hard for her to complain.

Tre pulled out of the driveway and clicked the remote to shut the door. Out of instinct, his hand went to Sol’s thigh when he put it in drive. “Did you grab my yarmulke?” Tre asked as he threw her a glance. 

“Please don’t insult me. This ain’t my first feast Nemo.” the indignant manner which she spoke had her and Tre struggling to keep in their bouts of laughter. “Yes, baby. They’re in the backseat.” 

“Good. Good. What’s the other name for them again?” Tre asked as he merged onto the nearly empty highway. A five a.m call time could be a blessing and a curse. 

“Kippah” is the Hebrew word for the male cap and “kippot” is the Hebrew word for the female cap.” Sol answered on autopilot as she mused on their situation. She was still taken aback that they’d been contacted by Black Juice to begin with. She’d been following them ever since they’d done that feature with Drake talking about how his own Jewish faith influenced his career path. Although she wasn’t as active in her Jewish faith as she’d wished she’d been in recent years it was still a huge victory to be acknowledged by the leading Black Jewish media network. Okay so maybe they were the only Black Jewish media network. But that definitely meant they were in the lead! She wasn’t stupid to think that this kind of opportunity would have come without Trevante in her life. But, she wasn’t gonna knock it either. 

This 8 Days of Miracles was the perfect task she needed as she figured out what the next step was for her career. Now that she’d finally finished her academic portion of her career she wasn’t sure how to proceed. So throwing herself into this project and hosting both her family and Tre’s for the holidays was the best distraction she could ask for. This time always gave her hope and made her realize that any kind of bullshit she’d put up with wasn’t in vain. It was her annual reset. New Year’s be damned. It also made her feel closer to her father and there wasn’t anyone in this world she’d loved more. At least that’s what she’d thought. She felt pressure on her thigh from the number one contender for her heart as Tre gave her a slight squeeze. 

“What’s on ya mind Sunshine?” Sol looked down at his hand and couldn’t help but cheese. She still beamed every time he called her by that nickname. 

“I was thinking about my dad and how proud he’d be to see me reppin his faith,” Sol said absentmindedly touching her necklace. Tre listened attentively as he grazed his thumb against her thigh in a gentle motion. “ I mean, I don’t know if he could have known that all of the years he instilled in us the value of miracles when we were children we’d still be celebrating Hanukkah after he was gone.” 

“I’m sure he didn’t know.” Tre started out slowly. He honestly wasn’t even sure if she’d finished her thoughts, “But, he probably hoped you would.” The phone rang as they turned off the street and into the lot. “STEPH 👷🏿‍♀️💪🏿” flashed across the Caller ID on his dashboard. Tre clicked the answer button on his steering wheel as Sol handed him his badge to show to Nico, the Security Attendant. 

“We’re at Security Steph,” Tre answered as he nodded at Nico. 

“Okay good. I just wanted to make sure we were starting the day off on time.” Tre and Sol shared a glance. 

“Woman don’t start with me. Call time is 5 and it’s 4:39. We don’t play that late shit over here and you know it.

“Well,  I also grabbed your favorite donuts from Craft Services so no one else would steal them and I wanted to know how long I had to hoard them for your ungrateful self. I can put them back if you’d like sir,” 

“Steph. You can ignore Tre.” Sol chimed in. “We appreciate you and will be walking in the door in exactly 2 minutes. Tre is parking as we speak. We’ll see you soon.”

“Tre, you lucky you have her. Keep her if you want to keep the best managent in town. Bye y’all!!” Steph sang as she hung up. Sol let out a cackle because Steph refused to be referred as anything other than a managent as Tre stood there dumbfounded at how he was being left out to dry. But he knew better than to go against two black women before he’d even finished his morning coffee. He just hopped out the whip and opened Sol’s door so she could do the same. 

Once they’d gotten their morsels of food, gone through hair and makeup and snapped a few photos for Black Juice and their own social media accounts, they were back on the road headed deeper into LA. They had a cameraman in the backseat filming their every move, one car guided them to their location and another followed them as they maneuvered through the cars that were poppin up for their morning commutes. Sol was on her IG live and answering any questions that popped up about where they were headed and her Hanukkah festivities. She watched as the number quickly jumped from 5,000 viewers to 13,000 and counting. She wasn’t sure what this many people were doing up at this hour but she wasn’t complaining. Tre’s mama was of course one of them. He was a mama’s boy through and through and she was always there to support him at any opportunity she could. Sol made sure to greet her specifically. Tre bopped his head to some Jill Scott- being careful not to let his yarmulke fall. Sol sipped some hot cocoa from her thermos and sang off key with him. As soon as they turned on a residential street, she felt awash in a new warmth that the hot chocolate couldn’t touch. She shook Tre’s arm enthusiastically. 

“It’s time!!” she beamed, “Are you ready?!” Tre chuckled at her immediate change in attitude. The car in front was already parked and the camera crew was out on the sidewalk. 

“Yes Sol. I’m ready to spread some holiday cheer. Let’s go make somebody’s day he said. Before Tre could even put the car in park, she was reaching for the handle” 

“AHT AHT AHT” Tre barked out loud causing the cameraman man in the backseat to jump,“ Tre was already exiting the driver’s side and pointed his finger at her as he crossed in front of the car “Don’t even try it.” Sol rolled her eyes and pouted as she waited the few seconds for him to open her door. 

“Thanks Tre,” she stuck out her tongue. She was like a kid in a candy store and was ready to full out sprint to the front door. The IG live comments were flying. 

Okay Daddy Tre! I need a mans to talk to me like that. 🥵🥵

Did this man just bark at her? 🐶

Loook so long as he handles this backdoor he can open any other door that he pleases sis!

Y’all females is wylin as usual. 

Sol glanced at them. “Imma need y’all to stay out of grown folks’ business and just enjoy this holiday work we are puttin in okay” She handed her phone to another crew member and grabbed Tre’s hand to drag him to the front door. 

She pushed the button for the doorbell but no sound rang out. Tre gave three succinct raps on the door and heard someone rushing down the stairs. The door was flung open by a woman in black slacks and a blinding blue polo emblazoned with a nametag that ironically labeled this young woman as “Tangerine”. She couldn’t be more than 25 years old and the toddler saddled on her hip only added to her youthful appearance. 

“Hi Tangerine,” Tre began, “My name’s Trevante and this is Sol,” he gestured to Sol at his side. 

“Hi?” Tangerine answered confused at this couple and the cameras that followed them. 

“We’re here today with Black Juice, a local Black organization that highlights the experience of the Black Jewish community and we’re doing 8 Days of Miracles,” 

“Okay..” Tangerine said not sounding any less confused. “ I’m not Jewish.”  Sol took over as she could tell that Tre’s efforts weren’t getting them anywhere.

“We’re here because your friend Kira sent in a letter telling us about  how great of a mother you are. She said that you’ve been working two jobs here to support you and your daughter.” At this, Sol smiled at the baby, “She told us that the second job you have is for daycare expenses alone.  We wanted to come out here today and let you know that we see what you do and how hard you go to make sure you give your daughter the best. So, we wanted to help you out and give you this. “ Tre gave her the envelope he had in his hand. It read “Day 1: Tangerine”

Tangerine took the envelope as Tre explained. “We’ve paid for your daughter’s child care for the next two years so you can give yourself a break.” She opened the envelope to see the receipt from Tiny Tots Kindercare and didn’t even know what to do. 

“I don’t know what to say.” She paused for a moment as what this truly meant registered in her mind. “I can quit this job and actually spend more time with my baby and focus on my candles.” 

“Your candles?” Sol asked. 

“Yeah. I make candles by hand. I took a few classes and have played with a few scents. Some friends have asked me to make them some and I’ve been waitin to be a little more secure with my money before I start at it.” she answered exhaling deeply. 

“Do you have any candles right now?” Tre asked peeking a little further in her apartment. Sol slapped his arm. 

“Could you be any nosier?” she chastised with love. 

“Yeah I have some. Do you mind holding Layla?” she asked but she practically threw the child into Sol’s arms as she ran to grab her stash of candles. Sol put on her sweetest voice and spoke to Layla about how old she was and if she liked her friends at daycare. When her mom came back Sol could see the sheer joy that she had when showing off her handiwork. 

Tangerine went through all six of her candles and their various scents with them and by the end Tre had bought each one. She was floored and couldn’t do anything but cry at the way her morning was turning around. It wasn’t even 7:30 and she’d already gotten 2 years of childcare, a reason to quit her grocery store job and someone who actually wanted to buy her candles. 

Before they left, Tre made her promise to hit him up when her site and IG were live so he could get more candles and share it with all of his friends. Sol returned Layla to her mother saying her goodbyes and grabbed Tre’s hand to head back to car. She leaned on his shoulder and he could see the contentment in her eyes. Sol almost forgot her phone before a crewmember handed it back. 

She came back to the IG Live trying not to get too emotional. “Look at that y’all! Day one of Hanukkah is off to a start and we’ve already proved that miracles happen! Y’all better stay tuned in over the next week so you can see who we pop in on next. You never know if it could be you! Thanks to Black Juice for giving us this opportunity to turn someone’s ordinary day into something smile about. Y’all betta check them out so you can see the full footage of what we’ve got goin on! Bye y’all!

“Bye y’all!” Tre called out. They answered a few more questions with Black Juice, said their goodbyes and climbed back into their car. 

“Can we go back to bed now?” Tre asked as he pulled back onto the main road and his hand founds Sol’s thigh again. Sol laughed. 

“I mean if that’s what you prefer we can. I had some other things in mind.” she suggested. 

Tre raised his eyebrow. “I swear you see one baby and you always go 0 to 100”

“Look, I just believe in practicing all aspects of having a child! Even the making part.” 

Tre threw his head back laughing. “I’m wit it babygirl”

DING! 

“That’s me” Sol said. She looked at her phone screen. A text from “Mama Rhodes” popped up.  She’d sent some Pinterest looking bible verse again. 

This was the third one this week. It dampened her mood immediately and caused her to groan. The text read: 

Seeing you with that little girl made me so happy for the good Christian grandbabies that you and Tre will be blessing me with in the future. I thank Jesus for the miracle of you and my baby everyday XO. 

“Tre, I got another one from your mom. When are you gonna talk to her?” 

Tre sighed. “I promise. I’ll talk to her soon and it will definitely be before your Chrismukkah Extravaganza. Don’t sweat it baby.” 

Sol did her best not to think about how pushy his mother was being about this raising Christan grandbabies nonsense ever since they announced they’d be partnering with Black Juice. All she could do is trust Tre and do what she was best at: wait. 

---------------

@ghostfacekill-monger @thadelightfulone

[reddesertcolbs]

tinder date gone wrong // colby brock

this was requested by a lovely anon, and i absolutely love the concept! i have written it so the reader lives in the traphouse with the boys :) 

summary: you go on a date with a lad from tinder, only to find out he doesn’t show up, but luckily, colby is there to pick up the pieces when you arrive home at the traphouse. 

word count: 2.9k words.

apologies for any typos

masterlist

warnings; mentions of bars/pubs, a few swear words.

//

you smile when the bright blue haired girl walks into your room. you invited kat up to your room to help you pick out an outfit for your date, that you’re going on. you finish applying the clear lipgloss over your lips, and turn to look at her. 

you’re currently getting ready for a date that you have planned with a guy off tinder. you originally downloaded the app as a joke, not looking for anything serious. but, your motives changed when a handsome lad named hayes popped you a message, asking you if pineapple belongs on pizza. since then, you both have exchanged numbers, chatted on the phone and he finally plucked the courage to ask you out on a date, to get to know you even better. 

to say you were nervous was an understatement, as this way out of your comfort zone. you bounced your knee up and down, trying to release some nerves, as kat rummages through your white wardrobe to find something that is suitable for having drinks in the small pub in town. 

you and hayes both decided that you didn’t want to go for a meal. so instead, you both picked on the local pub where you can both have a couple of drinks to get to know each other. then, if it all goes well and you decide to see each other again, then you can both go on a more formal date. 

“what about this?” she asks, holding up a black and white checker skirt in her left hand and a long sleeved black top in her right. “you can pair it with black tights and wear your black and white vans.” you watch as the girl places the outfit delicately onto your bed. 

“yeah, sure. i’ve worn it a couple of times so i know it’s comfy.” you respond, shrugging your shoulders and nodding your head in agreement. “how shall i do my hair? straight or curled?” 

you watch her face as she eyes you up, imagining the outfit on you and smiles before opening her mouth. 

“add a slight wave, make it look like you’ve made some effort, but not much. keep the guy on his toes.” she winks, walking towards you, where you were sat on your desk. 

“i’ll do it for you. i can tell you’re nervous, your hands won’t stop shaking.” she smiles softly, plugging in the curling wand and waiting for it to heat up to the temperature she’s picked. 

“you’ll be fine, he seems like a nice guy. you’re both getting on well, i don’t think you have anything to worry about.” she says, rubbing your shoulder in a comforting manner and parting your hair to start curling. 

“i know, he’s lovely. i’m just so nervous, this is so out of my comfort zone.” you say, chewing your lip nervously. you watch kat through your mirror as she curls your locks perfectly. once she finishes, she sprays your hair with hairspray, so they stay in all night. 

“i know, i’m proud of you for stepping out of it.” she grins, watching you stand up. “now go and change, you’ll be late.” 

you check the time on your phone, seeing it’s 7:16pm. your date is supposed to start at 8pm, and the pub is around a twenty minute drive. by the time you’re finished getting ready and you build up the courage to walk to your car and drive, it will already be around 7:35pm. 

you sigh nervously, as you start removing your shirt that you’re currently wearing. you throw it onto the floor, spraying your underarms with deodorant and then slipping the black top over your head, careful not to get your makeup on it. you tug your sweatpants down legs, and walk to the dresser. you pull out your black tights and delicately slide them up your legs, not wanting to rip them. you grab the skirt and pull it over the tights, and walk to your wardrobe to grab your vans. 

“you look beautiful, he’s not gonna be able to take his eyes off you.” she winks, watching as you lean down to slip the shoes on and tie up your laces. 

“thanks,” you mutter, a grin making its way onto your face. “i need to get going, i’ll text him to say i’m leaving in five minutes.” 

you reach for your phone, unlocking it and texting hayes quickly. once you hit send you lock your phone, and slide it into the black bag that is resting on your shoulder. you spray perfume all over your body and add it into your bag, along with some lipgloss, your phone, purse and id. 

you and kat step out of your room, and you close the door behind you. you walk down the stairs, chatting away and you shout to your room mates, letting them know that you’re leaving now. 

“boys, i’m going now.” you watch as the four men walk towards you, and you look down, face bright red, as they all make wolf whistles, in a joking way. colby is yet to make eye contact with you, and he looks down the whole time with a grin on his face. you knit your eyebrows together in confusion, but you look back up at corey when he starts talking. 

“woah, you look amazing.” corey says, raising his eyebrows. “he’s one lucky guy.” you mutter a thanks, before grabbing your car keys that are on the hook. 

“i’ll message the group chat when i get there so you know i’m safe.” you smile, opening the door, and stepping out. kat waves at you through the door and you unlock your car, hopping in. 

the drive to the pub is long. you start over thinking everything, as you let your nerves take over. you wipe your hand furiously onto the black skirt, trying to wipe off the nervous sweat that has made it’s way onto your palm. shortly, you arrive at the pub, pulling in to the car park, you park your car and lock it.

as you’re walking into the quiet pub, you pull out your phone from the bag, hoping to see a response from hayes, from your previous message to him. however, a frown falls on your face when the lock screen is empty and just a picture of you, jake, colby, corey, sam and kat is glaring at you. you sigh, stuffing it back into your bag and walk through the door. 

you walk up to the bar, ordering your favourite drink and you sit yourself on a small table towards the back of the room. you pull out your phone again, letting hayes know that you’ve arrived and where you’re sitting, so he can spot you when he walks in. then, you send a quick text to the traphouse group chat, letting them know you’re safe. you nervously tap your foot against the floor, scanning the room for his face. 

you’re sat by yourself for a while, and you check your phone again, sipping on the beverage in your hand. the time is now 8:37pm and you had arrived at around 7:58pm. again, you scan the room, looking for the blonde haired boy, but a frown appears on your face again when you don’t spot him anywhere. 

you begin to panic when the time hits 9:17pm. you have been sat here for well over an hour and you finished your first and only drink twenty minutes ago. once more, you search the room for the man, and you turn to your attention to your phone when a loud ping chimes. 

your heart begins to beat fast, and tears start to well in your eyes, as you read the text from hayes. 

hayes: hey, sorry but i’m not coming tonight. this was all a bet with my friends and i didn’t mean to let it get this far. again, i apologise, i should’ve told you sooner. 

you didn’t even bother to respond to his message, as you’re too in shock as to what is going on right now. so, you stand up from your seat quickly, and make a break for the pub entrance. when you see your car in sight, you unlock and and run slightly to hop in. once you’re situated in the driver’s seat, you let the tears fall freely. 

after sobbing in your car for ten minutes, you finally decide that the best thing for you right now is going home to your friends, getting into pyjamas and getting in your comfy bed. you finally turn the ignition on and begin your journey home, letting the silence in the car take over. 

you feel a sense of relief when the gates to the large house come into view, and you press the button to open the gates. the brown gates rattle as they open all the way, and you drive your car into your designated spot. you park the car, turning the ignition off and pulling down your mirror, wiping your cheeks of mascara. 

you open the car door, and slam it shut, locking it behind you. slowly, you stroll towards the door and fish your house key out of the black bag. you turn the key to the left, and open the door. you smile when colby lifts his head up and smiles at you, but his face is quick to fall into concern as he stands up quickly and makes his way to you. 

“hey what’s going on?” he says quietly, not wanting to get the attention of the other house mates. you look away, as fresh tears pool your eyes and they threaten to fall again. 

“nothing, i don’t wanna talk about it.” you mutter, looking back up at him and then towards the stairs. “i just wanna go to bed.” you shrug. 

“okay, we can talk about it later. go and get comfy.” he gives you a quick hug before you unwrap yourself from him embrace, and make your way up the stairs. the man watches your every move as you sluggishly climb the brown stairs, and he can feel his heart breaking at the sight of you bawling your eyes out. 

you open your bedroom door and shut it quietly behind you. you throw your bag onto the floor and start to remove your clothes, chucking them onto the pile too. you grab one of the many hoodies that you’ve stolen from the lads, and slip it over your head. you pick up the sweatpants that you removed a few hours ago, and place them back onto your legs before moving towards your desk. 

you remove your makeup from your face, and cringe when you see how puffy and red your eyes are. you apply some cream to your face and make your way to your bed, curling up into a ball and closing your eyes, sighing loudly. you begin to think how stupid you are, for falling for hayes’s tricks. it just goes to show that sometimes the nice ones aren’t as nice as you think they are. 

a soft knock on your door pulls you out of your thoughts, and you turn your body around to face it. you wipe your eyes with the sleeve of the hoodie and sit up. 

“come in.” you shout, watching as the door opens slowly and the man with blue and brown locks walks in, with two mugs in his hand. 

“brought you this, i know tea makes you feel better.” he hands it to you, making sure you hold it by the handle as it’s boiling hot. 

“thank you, colbs. you didn’t have to do that.” you smile, watching as he sits on the bed next to you. you place your steaming hot mug onto the table next to you, and you watch the man as he does the same with his, but on the table next to him.

“so, you gonna tell me what happened?” he asks you quietly and softly, as he doesn’t want to see you in tears again. colby crosses his arms over his chest, observing your face as you are deep in thought again. you sigh before turning your body to face his, and looking at your hands, playing with them. 

“he stood me up. he messaged me saying it was a bet with his friends and he didn’t mean for it to get to this point, and that he’s sorry.” you say, getting mad at yourself as you feel tears burning your eyes again. you wipe them, determined not to let a single tear form and looking up at colby, who’s face is twisted with rage and his eyebrows are knotted together. 

“are you fucking serious? he said that?” he spits out, and it’s clear that your words have irritated the fuck out of him. you nod your head, pulling the text up on your phone and passing it to him. you watch his expression as his eyes read the message, and he scoffs before locking the phone, passing it to you gently. 

he pulls you into his body, and you wrap your arm around his chest. you smile when you feel him rest his chin on top of your head and you sigh at the comfort you’re receiving from him. 

“he’s a prick, wasn’t good enough for you anyway.” he mumbles the last part, squeezing his arms around your frame a tiny bit tighter to keep you in his hold. 

“you know i love you, right?” he asks, closing his eyes, as he heart beats loudly, and he mentally kicks himself for saying it out loud. 

“yeah, i love you too, colbs.” you respond, grinning slightly. it’s not uncommon that the words are slipping out both of yours mouths, as you tell each other you love each other all the times, as you’re best friends. 

however, what you’re unaware of is that colby doesn’t mean it in a friendship way. the man has been in love with you the whole time, since the second time he met you, when he truly got to know you, thanks to kat. 

“no, i don’t mean in it that way, y/n. i love you for real.” he mummers against your hair, the scent of your apple scented shampoo filling his nostrils. it pained him to see you heart broken over a boy, who didn’t deserve to have gotten  to know you. all he wants to do is go and beat the shit out of hayes, but he knows you won’t appreciate it, so he lets his anger simmer for a while. if colby’s heart wasn’t beating rapidly before, it sure was now. 

“what?” you squeak, looking up at him with wide eyes. a little smile falls on your face when you see colby’s cheeks turn a shade of pink at his confession. he really didn’t want to tell you tonight, but he couldn’t help the words from slipping out of his mouth.

“i’ve liked you for a while, i thought it was quite obvious.” he chuckles, before opening his mouth again. “i don’t expect you to say anything back, i know you’re feeling like shit right now and i don’t want to take advantage of that. i just couldn’t stop myself from telling you.” 

“it’s okay, don’t worry.” you grin, making eye contact with him, before putting your hand in his, playing with his lion ring, that is resting on his middle finger. “i do feel something for you too colby, but i’m worried in case you like me more than i like you.” you sighed, suddenly feeling guilty. 

“but, i’m not saying i don’t have any feelings for you, because i do, but we will need to see how it pans out, yanno? because you mean so much to me, colby, and i wouldn’t want to ruin things between us.” you look at him again, expecting to see a frown on his face at your words, but your shocked when you see him grinning ear to ear. 

“what?” you chuckle, eyeing the man up with a confused expression. 

“nothing, just thinking.” he responds, looking at your beautiful face again, and lacing his fingers in between yours, before opening his lips to speak. “how about i take you on a date? we’ll take things slow and not rush. we can see how we feel about each other after the date and if it’s just friends on your half, we can pretend nothing happened and carry on?” the last part comes out more as a question. “so, what d’ya say, do you wanna go out on a date with me?” he asks you, studying your face for a reaction. you begin to nod your head and a huge grin appears on your face. 

“yeah, i like the sound of that.” you answer, making eye contact with him, as you both smile at each other again. “i’d love to go on a date with you.”

“it’s a date.” he nods his head towards you, before pulling you into his embrace again, wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on top of your head. you wrap your arms around his waist and hold him tightly. 

you’re actually grateful that hayes stood you up, otherwise you wouldn’t have been sat where you are now, wrapped in colby’s strong arms. the scent of colby’s aftershave and washing powder floods your nostrils, as you feel your body begin to rest for the first time tonight. 

“you looked beautiful tonight, by the way.” he says softly. he was telling the full truth, and he had to look down when you walked down the stairs hours prior to now, otherwise you would have seen the bright grin that was plastered on his face, and the red glow of his cheeks. the quietness of the room makes you both feel at peace, so he does not want to ruin it with his loud voice. 

“thank you, colby.” you respond, cheeks turning pink and you squeeze him tightly to show your appreciation. 

“oh, just for the record, i’m gonna beat the shit out of him when i see him.” you look up at him, and a giggle escapes your mouth as he winks at you with his right eye. 

“i give you permission to do that.” you chuckle and you return to your previous position, your head is laying on his chest and you sigh in content. 

[terrascookiejar-archive]

Terra has a Chat with a REAL Moderator this Time

In lieu of my original post that gained a lot of traction, and me talking about being “contacted” by someone claiming to be a mod.

An ACTUAL mod from the Official Cookie Run discord managed to contact me and  set the record straight on a few things, as well as discuss a few things regarding what happened. So it seems that this whole situation has indeed caught the attention of the mods of the Cookie Run Official Discord, and even MicMac himself. So what’s been done?

I do wanna talk about it in greater detail, so I’m gonna put everything in a cut, starting now. If you want the TL;DR version, skip to the second picture of Chestnut with Walnut at the end.

First things First, the person who I talked on the moderation team was someone by the name of Zayder, who contacted me on anon with their details. Using some help from friends We were able to background check and confirm, yes this person is actually legit. So I was reassured I wasn’t walking into some kind of trap.

(The photo given to me to prove authenticity by a friend. I blurred out their Discord number myself just for the courtesy of privacy)

What’s Being Done to Protect Artists on the Discord, Moving Forward?

I think this is the big question on everyone’s mind since I made my original post and all eyes are on the moderators and MicMac to make the change.

There seems to be a genuine admittance to the fact that the previous way fanart was moderated was ineffective and caused issues such as the theft and reposting to happen. 

So they’ve gone ahead and added stricter measures to prevent this from happening again. Including preventing new members from posting until they get the “Cookie” role, a cooldown on the channel to allow for easier moderation and viewing of said artwork, and heavier infractions laid down for art theft. 

I mentioned that the cooldown also allows for time for people to appreciate genuine artwork posted. So considering the magnitude of its members I’d say that’s a great first step in moving forward towards protecting community fanartists. I got confirmation from members in my own discord that the cooldown IS indeed already enacted and even increased from 10 to 30 minutes, so I have reassurance that what’s being told to me is true. 

They DO have a report system on their bot, but it seems most people prefer just messaging mods so that system in itself is rather flawed, but only so much you can do there. 

(^ This one’s my own artwork, btw!! ^) Zayder also asked me for my own feedback on what could be done to help protect artists, since I am an artist myself. It seems most of the moderation team are not artists and this probably lent itself to making moderation there so weak. 

In summary my main suggestions that were noticed were being mindful of traced art, and a dedicated section or post explaining art theft and how it harms artists and the importance of crediting artists. As not everyone understands how it hurts us, some people genuinely are uninformed. Which Zayder stated he would forward to Mic Mac. (Not sure how I feel about my own suggestions going directly to MicMac himself, but you know!!)

Fawn’s Situation happened so Long Ago that most of it is Lost (or worst case scenario, was deleted by a member of the moderation team) 

While the general consensus now is indeed “Yes, Fawn created Nutmeg Cookie,” there doesn’t seem to be much in the way of evidence towards who the perpetrator was (We had their username, hazbinalastor666, but not their ID and they’ve since changed it to cover their tracks) and the moderators involved with Fawn’s “Ban” to be found on the Official Cookie Run Discord. At least not anymore.

Zayder has confirmed that Fawn “left” the server in December of 2019, which lines up with Fawn’s own statements on the situation. However Zayder stated that whoever kicked her didn’t actually put her on the banlist. So either they kicked her manually, or they used the bot and then used it to erase all evidence of it and pretend nothing happened (which he certainly HOPES is not the case, and I do as well). It did not help that Trial Mods were not a thing yet by this time (They were not introduced until February of 2020), according to what Zayder told me. So things on that Discord were essentially pretty gun-ho. It’s not as simple as looking up a term and going to “Oldest” to track down stuff from the time.  Plus a good chunk of it seemed to have happened through DMs so... Good Luck getting that evidence.

Zayder informed me that Fawn is welcome to come back at any time. Though speaking with her she’s chosen not to, and considering her situation I don’t think anyone can blame her. I would like to believe that the version of the Discord that Fawn had to go through is not the same as the one we have now but something like isn’t essentially going to wash away what happened.

As for evidence that Fawn created Nutmeg first? Yes I do have it. The original incident,  hazbinalastor666 claimed that they created Nutmeg in November of 2019, However there’s evidence in our own discord showing Fawn creating Nutmeg as early as September of 2019.

As well as the day Fawn came forward on our discord about the situation after keeping quiet out of fear of backlash, ignited by seeing the thief get a commission of Nutmeg. However, I don’t plan to post that publicly unless I have Fawn’s okay. 

Yes. The First “Mod” That tried to Contact Me was Pretty Undeniably Someone Posing as a Mod From the Official Discord

“I'm also really curious on what you found false on what the "moderator" said to you. Nobody on the mod team ever told us they were gonna contact you, so I wouldnt know who that is.”

So that was my first sign that clearly the original person who contacted me at least wasn’t doing so without the consensus of the other mods, and neither did they consult the mods afterwards... So very, very likely they were a fake from the start. Some of the things that were off that I told to Zayder, and that we found through conversation were as follows:

The first person contacted me on a throwaway and refused to disclose who they were. Zayder gave me the ID of his personal discord and we could verify who they were easily.

The first person blew off my own suggestions for helping improve the fanart channels with statements like “We’re already cracking down on it.” Zayder asked me for my own suggestions as an artist without even being asked.

The first person kept trying to get me to get Fawn to use a VPN in order to get back into the Official Cookie Run Discord. Despite being told repeatedly that’s not how a VPN works. That’s just fucking weird. 

The first person couldn’t track anything down regarding Fawn’s situation years ago, Zayder was at least able to actually pinpoint the date in which Fawn was kicked, and rather quickly too I might add.

Zayder had pretty proficient knowledge on the bot the Discord uses for moderation and how it works. Which he explained to me a few times. The first person said to me at one point, and I quote, “For all I know the bot gives messages when infractions are laid.”

So seeing how talking with a real Moderator like Zayder was, I can say without a shadow of a doubt that someone was trying to dupe me here for some reason. Was it revenge? Did they want some sort of blackmail? Did they want me to proverbially “back off?” And if they ARE a mod why wouldn’t they give the info and such that I gave them to the other mods? Who knows. 

TL;DR:

Long Story short, it does appear as if the Moderation Team and Mic Mac have heard the artists of the fandom and are going to be working hard to lay down stricture rules regarding posting and doing their best to make sure credit goes where credit is due.

Fawn’s incident happened so long ago there’s not much evidence to be found on the Official discord, but we DO have proof that Nutmeg Cookie belongs to UpsetFawn!

The First Person who claimed to be a Mod was a fake and talking with Zayder proved it.

Overall, my talk with Zayder was very pleasant and enlightening and I believe Zayder would say about the same! I never meant to cause such an uproar, but I’d like to think things will change for the better now that we’ve all spoken up on behalf of our fellow artist. 

What we need to do now is watch how the Cookie Run Official Discord moves forward and if they’ll stick to their word towards protecting fandom content creators from theft and uncredited reposts. Though after my talk I’m certainly optimistic they will.

Always have your back for your fellow fandom artist, TerraTerraCotta

[lovinlikeloki]

The Lone Wolf

Masterlist // 04

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 2.4k

King T'Challa agreed to let us stay here for a few days so that we can both recover from our fight and figure out our next move. Rogers, however, told us not to take too long, T'Challa is being very benevolent and we shouldn't risk our safety or the cleanliness of his reputation.

We've already discussed vague ideas of where we're going and who with. Splitting up is obviously the best idea, divide and conquer, and all that. Clint and Scott are going back to their families, with any luck they'll be able to negotiate for some sort of house arrest deal, but it won't be so easy for the rest of us.

The captain and Wilson are planning on sticking together, maybe go through Europe. Romanoff is planning on doing her own thing, as she usually does. Wanda is also planning on Europe, and with any hope she'll take me with her. We're still a bit awkward after our conversation in the bedroom but we're just kinda pretending it never happened. Right now I'm just discussing my plans with Wanda.

"What's your plans Fi?" she asks me.

"I was hoping to come with you Wands," I reply.

"No, absolutely not. That is not happening."

"Why the hell not? I can't go home; they have my information! And I don't want to hear the lecture that Shéa and Erin will have planned, they aren't my parents, not after they disowned me, but as legal guardians they'll have been informed."

"But Fia-"

"But nothing! I can't go back. They'll have talked to Orlaith by now, everyone knows she's my best friend. Not only that, but someone will have pointed them in Eoghan's direction and I especially can't endanger the pub. That is Eoghan's job, all the mercs' jobs, and I'm not going to take that away from them."

"Fianna I just want you to have a normal life. To be a normal teenager!"

"But I can't! Don't you get that? Ever since the damn experiments I can't be a normal teenager. My DNA has been ripped apart and rewritten, I'm not even human anymore. I'm not normal... and I never will be, not again."

"Well... I- I have an idea. Look you're not gonna like it but-"

"No."

"But I didn't even-"

"You just said I'm not gonna like it."

"Just listen Fianna," Wanda pleads.

"Fine. Go ahead," I roll my eyes.

"There's somewhere you can go. You'll be able to negotiate terms and you will be able to lead a somewhat normal life, wolf and all."

"It better not be-"

"Yes, it's Tony Stark."

"No. No way. There is no way I'm going to him of all people for help."

"Fianna please. He'll help you."

"No. He's the reason- Look Wanda, he's not in my good books. He wasn't before, and he sure as hell isn't now. Not after... not after last year."

"He can help you. He knows what you mean to me, what you meant to both of us. I've forgiven him, it's time that you do too," Wanda reasons.

"But he killed-" I trail off, tears starting to roll down my cheeks, "He's responsible for-"

Wanda moves closer, rubbing my back, letting me lean my head on her shoulder, "I know Fia, I know. He didn't though. He might've created Ultron, but he was trying to stop him too. He never meant for anyone to get hurt. Especially not Pi-"

"Don't," I jerk my head up, "No- na habair ainm s'aige! Ní dúirt- Ní dúirt mé é ó a bhfuair sé bás. Le do thoil— Wanda please."

(don't say his name! I haven't said— I haven't said it since he died. Please-)

"Okay, I won't say his name. But you won't even begin to move on, you won't begin to heal until you accept that he's gone."

I move back from her, shaking my head, "But he can't be. He just can't be gone. I already told you, he was my everything. I'm lost without him."

"But you weren't lost before him drăga, were you?" Wanda tries to reason with me.

(Darling)

"No," I wipe my tears away, "No I wasn't... but that was before all of this. Before the experiments. Before these powers. Before I met him. I can try to move on, I can, and say that maybe with time I do. But I'll always come back to him. Always love him. Always love him first. Before whoever I'm with. Whoever I marry. Whoever is the parent of my kids. They'll always be second best."

"I know, volk, I know," Wanda cradles my face in her hands, "But you will love again, maybe not as much, but you will," she wipes the tears still streaming down my face, "And while it won't be as strong it will still be as real. And no matter who it is, you know he'd be proud. You know that, right?"

(Wolf)

I nod my head, her hands moving with it before engulfing her in a hug. Wanda wraps her arms around my upper back and my head, soothing me like she did way back when. We stay like that for a minute or two and though it was a while before we pulled away it still felt too quick.

"And I'll always be here for you, fetiţa mea. Now, let's not dwell on the past, or on the future. Let us spend our time here making good memories, yeah?" Wanda smiles at me.

(My baby girl)

"Yeah," I breath, smiling back at her.

° ∆ -------- ••• ------- ∆ ° ∆ -------- ••• ------- ∆ °

I'm currently in Shuri's lab looking at all the cool tech she's made. She knows my skills and intellect and thought it would be cool if I got to look over her stuff and maybe even add stuff to it.

I get to browse the countertops with everything on them, the thing that sparks my interest most is the kimoyo beads. They are so freakin' cool.

I mean these thing can scan things, help heal people, control Wakandan tech, and they even make frickin' holograms! How cool is that?

"Ah, I see you've found the kimoyo beads," Shuri smiles when she sees them in my hand.

"Yeah, the tech is amazing, I mean I wouldn't even know where to begin making something like this. It's honestly incredible," I gush.

"Well, I could teach you how get started on advanced tech like this id you'd like," Shuri offers and I beam.

"Seriously?"

"Of course, I trust you, besides you're definitely capable."

"Okay then," I smile, "Where do we begin Múinteoir Shuri?"

(Teacher <prefix>)

Shuri then begins to teach me some little tips and tricks for basic tech that makes much more advanced in the long run. Just add an extra circuit here or just alter one you've already got and it takes your shit to a whole new level. Shuri might only be a little older than me but she's got some damn good skills.

She also asks me for suggestions for the new Panther Habit for T'Challa's new role as Black Panther. I give small ideas here and there but one that sticks is taking the shock absorbance to another level, redistributing the energy and making the shoes silent.

Its really nice to work with someone with Shuri's level of intelligence, she's like one of the smartest in the world. It's definitely better than the eejits (idiots) at school that I have to work with. While I'm nowhere near her level it's still good to be able to work with someone that knows what you're about to say before you even get the words out.

° ∆ -------- ••• ------- ∆ ° ∆ -------- ••• ------- ∆ °

After spending time in the labs with Shuri I go to the rest of the team. I'm kind of an outsider to them, they don't really know me and I don't really know them. I decide to try and approach one of them to try and... I don't know, bond? Or just become less of a stranger at least. I decide to go for who I deem the most approachable, Natasha Romanoff.

Now I know that you may think I'm crazy, thinking the easiest to approach is the fierce Black Widow, but my reasoning is somewhat solid. Romanoff was trained to read the room, read people and therefore she probably knows more about me than she lets on. We also share a somewhat similar background which while I wouldn't use as bonding material it means she can probably relate.

I sit down next to her and wait for her to make the first move, that way I won't force interaction and she can leave if the idea of it bothers her.

"Hey kid," Natasha begins.

"Hey," I reply.

"So, you're the kid Wanda always talks about," Natasha says absentmindedly.

"I guess I am. Wanda talks about me?"

"Oh all the time. She loves to talk about her little sister, the Volchitsa."

(She-wolf)

"Yeah... the irony of it all is almost comical."

"What irony," Natasha questions and I realise I hadn't explained.

"It's just my name," I shake my head, "Fianna, it's an Irish name. It has many meanings behind it depending on where you look, but the direct translation is what's funny."

"And why's it funny?" Natasha quirks an eyebrow.

"Because, what could be better for the girl who's a wolf than a name that means deer?"

Natasha nods, a small smile on her lips, "I do see the irony there. A predator named after her prey. But the Volchitsa is a good strong name, names are powerful things."

"They used to call me the Wölfin in HYDRA, another she-wolf nickname, this time in German, it was becoming feared. Black Widow is a strong name, also scary. A good name for a skilled agent though, the spider who eats her mate."

(She-wolf)

"I didn't get to choose that name," Natasha tells me, "It was chosen for me when I was even younger than you."

"Oh, I- I'm sorry," I stammer.

"Don't be. As you said, it's another strong name, a scary one too. The important thing is that the name Black Widow was once feared for bad reasons, now it's welcomed for good ones. Wölfin was feared because she was strong and could be used for bad reasons, use that or pick your own name that can be welcomed because she can use her skills for good."

I nod my head, slightly in thought, "I've had many names since getting my powers, Wölfin by HYDRA, Volchitsa by the twins, and back home the mercs, they called me an Mac Tíre. Again it means wolf, but this time in Irish, it feels more me but I can't use it anymore. Not if I'm going where Wanda wants me to."

"As I said, names are powerful. Having too many doesn't have to be a bad thing, it gives you options, I've had many aliases in my time, Natalia Alianova Romanova, Natalie Rushman, Nadia Roberts. It means that you can be whoever you want."

"...That's inspiring. Wölfin was a weapon, a child soldier, not someone I wanna be."

"Then don't be. Volchitsa was who the twins saw you as. A fluffball that they needed to protect," Natasha points out.

"Not her either, I'm different, I've changed since the twins- since Wanda last knew me," I correct myself but Natasha knows my slip up, she does, however, not bring it up.

"That currently leaves you with Mactíre."

"Yeah, the mercenary with a bite. I wasn't the only young merc but I'm the most memorable back home. Mactíre isn't feared per se, but she's respected and dangerous but kind, fiercely loyal."

"That sounds like someone I'd wanna be."

I look her in the eyes and can tell she's genuine, of course she is. The Mactíre is a good person, or at least she is now, her past isn't so good, a lot bloodier than it is now, but she's different. Natasha's right when she says that names have power. Mactíre is who I am now, maybe if I change again I'll use a newer name, or not, maybe I'll be a Mactíre mark II.

"Thanks Natasha, that means a lot," I tell her.

She nods before asking a question, "What did you mean when you said you couldn't be Mactíre where Wanda wants you to go?"

I internally sigh, I slipped up, she's Romanoff of course she didn't let it slide.

"I- Wanda wants me to go to Stark when we split. She thinks that he'll protect me and let me be normal. But he won't, he only protects himself."

"That's not true you know. That's actually the reason he signed the accords, he thinks we need to be put in check or we'll lose more lives than we save."

"Is that really the reason?" I quirk an eyebrow, "Or did someone say something and he feels the need to cover his ass?"

"That I can't answer. But he would protect you Fianna, he protected Wanda when Sokovia happened."

"Maybe, maybe he won't since I helped Steve. All I know is that he's hurt people I love and I don't forgive easy. Loyal remember? Fiercely loyal."

Natasha ponders what I've said for a moment before carefully choosing her words. "You make points, but I believe that he'll do the right thing. It'd be good for both of you, you'd get closure for the one's he's hurt and he'll get to face the consequences of his actions like he wants to. Besides, if you need somewhere to lay low I might now somewhere you can stay for a bit until you sum up the courage to face him."

"I- really?" I ask, unsure of whether or not she's kidding.

"Really," she confirms.

"Why?"

"I know what it's like to have to face something... especially your past, you need to build up to it."

"Thank you Natasha."

[shamefullymadethis]

The Mess You Made

Part 1/?

Todoroki x Reader

Art College AU

Word Count: 1671

Summary: Y/n has had their life under wraps at all times. They give little room for things to mess up what they’ve built when they have the control over it. So what happens when the new student, Shoto, indirectly starts to unravel the carefully crafted life Y/n has built for themself?

Trigger Warnings: None in this chapter.

If you guys wanna see more parts of this lmk and I’ll continue it. This has just been on my mind recently. (Update! I’ve decided to add another chapter. Check it out if you’d like! I’ll continue to post chapters if you are all interested :) )

Next Part

Good day sunshine

Good day sunshine

Good day sunshine

You hear a familiar tune play off your phone laying on the dresser beside your bed. You slowly open your eyes and grab your phone letting the song play out, but turning it down. The time reads 7:30am, you groan and roll out of bed. You connect your headphones to your phone and place it in your pocket as you get ready for your 8:30 painting class. As you get up you see your other 2 roommates quietly sleeping. You stretch, put on some clothes, and head to the kitchen. On the counter there’s a plate of cinnamon buns wrapped with plastic. Judging by the crumbs, one has already been taken. A note beside it reads: I made these last night! Feel free to take some -Ochaco. You smile as you grab one, wrapping it in a napkin, then placing it in the pocket of your portfolio. You head to the door and grab your keys, as you open the door you hear your one of your roommates alarms go off.

This is a normal morning for you. Everything is always perfectly timed and plays out the same each morning. You take comfort in the routine you have made for yourself. You head to the elevator and go through your playlist deciding on what best fit your mood for today. As the music starts to pick up, the elevator doors open and you wave to the guard at the front desk of your building. She gives you a tired smile and quietly says, “Have a good day, y/n.” You nod your head as you go to open the door, allowing the next guard to come in and relieve the current one from duty. You give a polite nod as they walk in and thank you. You walk down the street and around the corner, and everything couldn’t have gone more smoothly. You normally left for class 30 minutes before it started. With that time you are able open the door for the guard, go to your favorite cafe, grab some coffee and draw some of the regulars, then head to class given that it’s right next to the cafe.

Looking at yourself now versus who you were before you came to college, you wouldn’t even recognize who you were before. Most things had been out of your hand, and you hardly had control over the things that happened to you. But since getting to college you started to have more of a grip on the things around you. You have become a master of your own life, to a fault. You have carefully constructed the path you are on right now, down to every minute and breath. With that, it is a very delicate balance. But you have made sure to keep a guard up at all times, so as to not disturb the plans you have made for yourself. You are well known within your school and have many “friends,” because they admire how put together you seem. But there are only a few people who you actually trust within your life or plot. It is important to you that you maintain this distance with most people, as people tend to make things messy. You are happy with the neat life you have constructed, and it will stay that way as long as you have control over that.

You head to the coffee shop beside the building your class is in, and right on que you hear the owner call out to you as the small bell rings signaling your entrance.

“Y/n! Good morning, the usual I presume,” he asks while he already starts pouring syrups into a cup.

“You know it, thank you!” You reply as you stride up to the counter. You place a five dollar bill on the counter, and another barista, who you know as Mr. Sasaki, comes to put it in the register and hands you change. You take the change and place it in the tip jar. You make idle conversation with the owner and Mr. Sasaki. The owner’s name is Mr. Yagi, he is small in stature and one of the kindest people you know in this city. He spends time outside of work doing volunteer work and creating safe spaces for people. As Mr.Yagi hands you the cup he gives you his signature smile, and takes the next customer. You take a seat by the window and watch as people walk by. Your college is an open campus, so your school’s buildings blend in with the city around it. When you look outside you see every type of person from tourists, other students, and people heading to work. You grab a small sketchbook and pen from your bag and sketch out some of the passerby’s. As you do these gesture drawings, you notice another student with a portfolio headed towards the building your class is in. You don’t recognize this student, which would normally not bother you, but this person sticks out like a sore thumb. You freeze for a moment as you feel your brain trying to slow down time to study this stranger. His hair is dyed half white and half red, he was well dressed, and for a moment you thought you caught sight of blue eyes. You sit there for a moment, engraving this person’s face into your memory. You quickly turn to your sketchbook and sketch out what you could remember. You check the time, and jump out of your seat as you read the clock: 8:25am.

“Shit,” you hiss quietly.

You throw your sketchbook back into your bag, drink the rest of the lukewarm coffee, and bolt out the door giving a brief goodbye to Mr. Yagi and Mr. Sasaki. You grab your school ID from your pocket and flash it to the guard quickly as you enter the building. You walk down the hall to wait for the elevator. There are a few students, some which you recognize from your class, and of course the stranger who had distracted you in the cafe. You know that you shouldn’t blame him for your faulty timing, but a small part of you feels misguided resentment towards him. As the elevator stops on the floor you pile in with the other students. You reach to press the button for your floor, but at the same time the boy with half-and-half hair reaches for it as well. As he presses the button, you find yourself drawing your hand back a bit too late and accidentally brushing against his hand. You quickly turn your head to him and find yourself locked in eye contact with him as you both say apologize. Looking at him up close you could confirm that he has blue eyes. Eyes that are so startlingly blue that you almost feel cold. You find yourself getting lost for a moment, and then realize that you have spent an odd amount of time watching each other. So you quickly break eye contact and watch the numbers on the elevator climb.

Once it reaches your floor you excuse yourself through the people and realize that the blue-eyed person you had shared a brief moment with has also exited the elevator. Logically that makes sense given that you were both going to press the same floor, but you still found yourself feeling a bit more stiff than usual as you process to your class with him close behind. You get to the door and as you open it you realize that he is entering with you. Your classmates are all chatting and you see your friend Mina from across the room. She excitedly waves at you, “Y/N GOOD MOOORNING!” You smile and walk over to her, feeling the tension in your shoulders relax a bit. As you settle down at the table next to her you see the stranger stand idly at the front of the classroom, almost looking a bit lost. A few moments later your professor, Mr. Aizawa enters the room looking tired as ever. He stands at the podium placing a bag down on a table by the podium which immediately grabs the attention of the room.

“Settle down everyone, we have a new student today. Would you like to introduce yourself,” he asks while looking at the boy standing by the door.

The boy nods, “My name is Shouto, I just transferred here.”

“What’s your major,” Mr. Aizawa inquires.

“I’m a painting major,” Shouto replies shortly.

Mr. Aizawa nods in acknowledgement, and points to the empty desk next to you.

“That desk is open next to y/n, feel free to set up there.”

Without meaning to you held your breath as he walked towards the desk next to you. He quietly places his things down and starts to set up brushes, paint tubes, and charcoal on his desk. He looks over to you which then makes you realize that you’ve been staring this whole time. You look up quickly to try and play it off, but from an outsiders’ point of view it would have been obvious that you were staring. Your gaze moves to your other side to look at Mina. She raises an eyebrow in confusion, then gestures for you to take a breath by raising her hands near her chest and then lowering them while exhaling. As you finally breathe out Mr.Aizawa starts to explain the new assignment.

For just a second, you felt your perfectly crafted life start to crack. You decide to brush it off, thinking that it’s nothing but a bothersome thought. You never thought of a plan for what to do if it should fall apart, and you don’t feel like that is something to worry about as of right now.

[lovelyparkers]

hard as nails (2)

summary: the second and final part to hard as nails! my 50k special!!! warnings: VIOLENCE!, a gross teenager, angst and fluff, um spiciness and swearing 2.5k words

peter parker left school that day with a hunch. he thought of the note, the knowledge that you attended the same school, the flirting, your voice...

and especially those red nails.

the same nails that belonged to you. the same ones that would pin his wrists down in several different places during fights. the same ones that stroked his cheek. it had to be you i mean, he had chills along with his spider sense. he knew it was you. and it kinda sucked. he liked you in school. he thought you were so cute and smart and sweet. and in the hero vs villain world? he thought you were mysterious and funny and...maybe a little sexy. your villain name, violet, flowed off his tongue so nicely and your hair when it blew in the wind on rooftops and your eyes that glistened under the moonlight. your signature red nails that could kill (my gosh) and your fucking party city mask.

it was y/n. it was you.

he bolted down the busy sidewalks of queens and changed into his spidey suit. his main and only focus was to track you down and find out what the fuck is going on. the only criminal he would catch tonight was you, no matter what.

you usually showed up in peter's path at some point every night, sharing some banter and flirting and the occasional play fight. but today was different. he couldn't find you. and sure it was new york but still, you always showed up and he started to worry. he swung around and around the proximity of queens several times for fun and on the lookout for you for hours.

meanwhile, you were at home doing some homework. sitting on your bed in your empty apartment writing down some notes and studying for tests. point being, you were trying to keep your mind off of daria at all costs even though she would probably find you and kill you if you didn't bring her peter. but you wanted to have a relaxing evening off your feet. maybe you would go out, maybe, you doubt it.

but you got bored, figured you'd head out on the town, steal some cash, buy yourself some treats before you get brutally murdered by a frightening middle aged woman. your victim was a kid from your school, total idiot who lived in your neighborhood and still went to midtown. you walked behind him on the sidewalk for awhile before grabbing his backpack and pulling him back into your arms.

"hey kid."

"oh my god," the kid hyperventilated, "you're that- you're that girl."

"mhm yeah i am. now give me your wallet and we won't have any trouble sweetie."

"okay," he stuttered our before reaching into his bag to pull out a wallet and hand it to you.

you dumped the contents onto the sidewalk, one hand still holding him in your grip. you fished through the items. there was loose change, a few twenty dollar bills, school id and a condom.

you held it up in his face, "really? you're that guy? you disgust me."

"i'm sorry!" he yelled.

"okay move along and get a life buddy."

you pushed him out of your path and headed down the street to a corner store which sold the greasiest funnel cake on planet earth that seemed to always be opened. you got the biggest order topped with literally everything they had and tossed a twenty on the counter pocketing the rest of your, well that kid's, cash.

you held your foam take out box filled with an enormous funnel cake and happily climbed you way up the fire escape to the nearest building. you were a little shocked you hadn't seen peter yet tonight but hey, maybe you scared him off. you sat down and enjoyed your funnel cake and watched the sunset over queens. what a nice night to be murdered.

you could still give peter up and save your own life but, deep down you couldn't. you had so much fun with him over the time you've been here and he never turned you in. he never hurt you. and you made a promise to him. he knew who you really were, a damaged kid who got caught up in the wrong crowd. but you were a shit head and peter was a hero. you stole stuff and he stopped the people who stole stuff. you couldn't risk his life for your own actions. it wasn't fair, and you realized that. now, it was time to be the good guy.

"violet," peter said, grunting as he hit the rooftop.

you turned your head to face him, "oh hey babe, want some funnel cake? i stole it sorta."

"no, i don't want stolen funnel cake. i wanna talk."

"about what," you said with a full mouth.

"about you."

"hey dude, you do this every night! i'm a bad person about to get beat and i'm trying to have a wonderful last meal."

"i'm not gonna beat you up."

"not what i meant."

"why?"

"why what?"

"why are you doing this? why are you protecting me?"

you paused, chewing and some powdered sugar fell on your leather pants, "because i know you're a good person. and i'm a shit head. and i realize that now. i just- i don't know if i can stop but anyways it will all be over tonight."

"what are you talking about," peter asked ripping off his mask.

you still faced away from him, eating, "she's gonna kill me."

"who?"

"daria. my mentor as one might say. she's gonna kill me since i didn't turn you in."

"i'm sorry what?"

"daria—"

"no i heard you just what the hell y/n, do you—" peter realized his mistake and covered his mouth with his gloved hands.

you groaned and chucked the rest of your funnel cake off the roof, "damn it man! how the fuck do you know?"

peter pulled his hands away, "the red nail polish, you should really be more careful."

you smirked, impressed, "says you."

"i'm learning," he said walking closer to you, "now whats this about getting killed."

you wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned in close to his face, "it doesn't concern you babe."

"seems like it does," he began, resting his hands on your waist, "since it's either me or you."

"don't worry, i'm doing you a favor," you laughed.

"yeah, that's your life. i'm not asking you to do this."

you stroked his hair, "i know. but i'm gonna."

"stop. i'll help you."

"no no no. look. i'll be at that run down place of 75th street. in two hours come and pick up my body. daria will be gone by then."

"violet- i mean, y/n, stop. i'm gonna help you."

"i don't need you to save me, hero. people need you more than they need me."

you squeezed yourself out of his arms and headed to the edge. you were about to get down to head to daria's when peter shot you with a web and pulled you toward him.

"woah there spidey, tying me up already? who know you were so kinky."

peter blushed, "listen to me. y/n i need you. i need you so so bad. you keep me grounded, i'm serious. you're a real pain in the ass sometimes but i love it. you're funny. and really really sexy might i add."

"ooh look who's flirting now."

"shut up," he laughed, "but i really need you. i'm not gonna let some middle aged woman kill you. that's not how you should go. i wanna get to know you. i can tell you don't like being a 'shit head' as you called it and i'll help you. i'll show you how to use your powers for good. we can be partners."

you smiled, thinking for a second, "i appreciate the offer but, you should just let me go."

"well these webs take two hours to dissolve."

"damn can you even last that long?"

"stop," he blushed, "i'm serious. i'm gonna help you. if you'll let me?"

you looked into his brown eyes filled with hope and slowly nodded, "okay."

"okay."

you both stood there on the roof, "so now what?"

"um we wait till my webs dissolve off you?"

"so what are you gonna do with me for the next two hours?" you smirked.

peter laughed, still blushing, "see this is what i'm talking about, a pain in the ass."

"but you love it," you laughed.

he did.

—————————

two hours later you were able to pull the webs off with the aid of peter. during those two hours you talked about all sorts of things. and you really wanted to change. you wanted to be good. and you devised a plan to take out daria.

peter swung the two of you over to daria's place and of course being you, you made several cheeky remarks which made peter almost drop you one or six times.

when you arrived, your body was almost shaking. you were actually terrified. peter put a hand on your back to calm you down and it helped a little.

"okay y/n are you ready? you go in first then i go in then we both kick her ass."

you nodded slowly.

"spidey?"

"violet?"

you grabbed his cheeks in both your hands and pressed a quick kiss to his lips, "see you on the other side."

you ran off, entering daria's apartment, leaving a blushing peter behind.

"holy shit."

you quietly entered daria's kitchen and called out for her.

peter came up to stand just outside the door to listen and be ready. he didn't doubt you, he just wanted to protect you. and goddamn he wanted to kiss you again.

"daria?" you asked into the empty kitchen.

"you're late," she said, "where is he?"

you said nothing.

"that's what i thought. i knew you could never do it deep down you bitch. it's almost midnight and no spider-man. you know what i said. you're going to suffer."

"what's your deal with him anyways?" you asked, steering away from the plan, "you're too lazy and fucking stupid to do anything yourself so you make me do dirty work. and you want me to rid off an innocent hero. fuck you."

shit. peter thought. this was gonna get real fighty real fast. but he nodded, it was kinda hot hearing you curse.

"don't play with me sweetheart, i protect you."

"i can protect myself. i'm done with you."

daria walked forward to you and slapped you across the face and kneed you in the stomach. you grabbed the side of your face.

"jesus what is it with you and slapping me?"

once peter heard the smack and busted right in the door and kicked daria square in the stomach. he ran to you in the kitchen to help you up.

"you okay?"

"yeah i will be babe, thanks."

daria got back up and tried the punch peter behind him but you swept her legs out causing her to pummel to the ground. she was too easy to beat. peter webbed her feet to the ground. and her hands together.

"oh c'mon taser web this bitch."

"no!"

you scoffed and walked to her side, "you're too easy to beat."

"so what, you're the good guy now?" she spat.

you looked to peter then back to daria, "yeah maybe. maybe i am."

then you pulled back your own hand and slapped her in the face.

"that's what you get bitch! you're done!"

peter grabbed your waist to prevent you from doing anything else and carried you out to the parking lot. he also called the police to get rid of that horrid woman.

"so now what?" peter asked.

"go to a rooftop? we have lots to talk about."

"you got it violet," peter winked, grabbing you again and webbing around to find a nice desolate roof.

he gently placed you down and sat next to you, taking off his mask.

"so," peter began, "what's up?"

"i'm sorry i kissed you."

"don't be. i...i liked it."

"really?"

"yeah. really. i like you, and not just violet, i like y/n, i like all of you."

you smiled, "i like you peter spider-man parker."

"good," he smiled.

there was a small moment of silence, both of you smiling over each other. and then you leaned into his side and grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him in for a passionate, well deserved kiss. it was long lasting and felt so good until peter pushed back your shoulder.

"so if i'm gonna teach you how to be good," he said licking his lips, "you have to know that i'm in charge."

"oh are you now, pretty boy?"

"mhm. now take off that mask."

you obliged, taking off your party city mask and throwing it on the roof, "there, how do i look?"

"hot as hell, babe."

"that's my thing," you reprimanded.

"hmmm i don't know."

you quickly swung a leg over peter's hips, straddling him tightly, and pushed on his chest till his back hit the roof and once again pinned his wrists down.

"babe, i think we all know who's in charge here," you whispered. peter left out a soft breath with his eyes closed, feeling you on top of him.

peter quickly brought his legs up and out pulling you up and then turning you so now your back was on the roof and he was straddling your waist.

"do we?" he asked, "because wow..."

he leaned in so close to your face that his messy brown curls were toxic hung your forehead.

"...you look even prettier underneath me."

you smirked, biting your lip, "you know, you don't look so bad on top. but if you're gonna teach me to be good, i'm gonna teach you to be bad."

"what no! i'm a hero!"

"no," you laughed, "like...dirty stuff."

"oh," he blushed.

"i can teach you so many things."

"can you now?"

"oh i sure can. i can show you a whole lot you've never seen before," you said.

peter's breath started to quicken and he just wanted to get at you right there.

"and you know, we're both pretty flexible," you joked.

"oh man y/n. you're gonna be the death of me."

it was his turn to kiss you. his lips moved against yours in a fiery passion, whilst still having you pinned down. it was the kiss of your dreams. he would groan into your lips every so often causing you to melt and when you hit his lip and just about lost it, letting go of your wrists and you took over the kiss.

who knew, a hero and an ex villain making out would ever be a thing?

[apprenticenerd]

"Anyone can send me an ask with one of the titles and I’ll post a snippet or talk about that WIP!" The Acropolis, Tacet, Checklist, A Tiny Galaxy, Hearsay, Going Back, Ella Disenchanted, Making Peace, The Slashed Circle, Wake Up, Tenno, Midnight, Heliotropism, Arrhythmia, the one about Among Us, the one about Library of Ruina, the one that’s a D&D world concept. Yes, all of them. I know you wanna talk about all of them. So go, go forth and do it!

Hoooo boy, this is gonna be a long post. Lots and lots of writing snippets under the cut to avoid dash stretch!

The Acropolis - original - length uncertain - 1.4k and counting

im not ready for this im not i thought it would be yrs i thought id at least get an english degree first

omg sal whats goin on

fuckin hell whyd it have to be now i have a chem lab tomorrow

sally-tate macpherson. u never swear. ever. wtf is goin on.

ok. jess. i need u to listen really really carefully. understand?

answer the goddamn question ur scarin me

shut up and listen and this will go a lot better

fine but u need to tell me wtf is happnenig

ok. im going to tell you a bunch of stuff. not giving u advice, thats not allowed, but im gonna tell u stuff it seems like itd be impossible for me to know.

?????????????

i said shut up this is really important dont question how i know it. just go with it and figure out what to do. and dont die. bc no matter how crazy stuff seems, if u die, ur dead. here and everywhere. ok?

This is an original story coming straight from a @/writing-prompt-s prompt about a crack in a kid’s hardwood floor that they fantasized was a portal actually being one. I originally intended to write the entire thing like this, as a conversation over text, but that may not be feasible given a certain world-building detail at the other end of the portal (and the limits of my creativity lmao).

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Tacet - The Blackout Club - one-shot - 3.2k and counting

She closed her eyes again, and there it was. Hallucination? Some new science trick with electromagnetic radiation off the visible spectrum? Evidence that she was actually going insane? Whatever it was, it burned behind her eyelids in bright, incontrovertible red - and was completely invisible when she opened her eyes again. There was just the usual mess of club posters and one big one about someone’s exceedingly dumb-looking lost cat.

Eyes open, there was only Sargent Snuggles. Eyes closed, there was the normal darkness and then three lines of text where the poster had been, wavering like scarlet fire:

JOIN TBC JOIN TBC JOIN TBC

TBC? What the fuck was that? She’d never heard of any group with that acronym before. Hardly aware of the flurry of weird looks from half the other people in the hallway, she crossed the hall to examine the lost cat poster more closely. It felt like perfectly normal paper when she touched it, and there wasn’t even a hint of red with her eyes open, unless you counted the cat’s tacky pink sweater. How the hell was this even possible?

“You’re finally cracking, Bri,” she groaned under her breath, then headed for her locker. She did have to get home. Add another big fat entry to the weird shit list.

A backstory one-shot for my Blackout Club OC Briar, telling the story of how she got into the club in the first place. I’ve been stuck in the same spot for a while now, after Briar’s friend Dani explains the club to her, and I’ve come to the conclusion that the scene’s over as is. Of course, writing the next one is the tough part.

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Checklist - The Blackout Club - one-shot - 1.7k and counting

8. You still have a headache. Shouldn’t you go back to sleep and try to do this in the morning?

9. (wake up)

10. Nah, you’ve always been a night owl, and school starts criminally early, too early to get much done beforehand. It’s quiet, except for Dad snoring. Your parents are asleep already. You can stay up until this is done, and they’ll be none the wiser.

11. Your head hurts worse. It’s getting harder to think. At only 9 pm? 9:30? Whatever. You should sleep.

12. (wake UP)

13. What are you thinking? You have to read at least a little of this chapter, or there’s no way you’ll be able to bullshit your way through class tomorrow. Besides, all of a sudden, the silence feels...strange. Heavier? You can’t describe it.

14. You need to sleep. You need a drink of water or something. You need to finish this damn homework. You need to sleep. You need to sleep.

15. Stare at The Great Gatsby. It doesn’t make sense. Nothing makes sense.

16. Realize what’s up with the silence. Dad’s not snoring anymore. You aren’t feeling like yourself. You need to sleep.

17. Something’s weird.

18. (WAKE UP) 

19. ...No. Something’s wrong.

Another Blackout Club story and another Interface Screw, as it were, this time in the form of a (very long) checklist. None of the characters have names (yet). It describes another way a kid could find themself running around at night with the Blackout Club, this time by fighting off the Song just enough to run into a club member who could wake them up the rest of the way. As with Tacet, I still need to write the suspenseful part.

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A Tiny Galaxy - Warframe - 4 chapters planned, 1 complete, 1 in progress - 7.8k and counting

Try it if you don’t believe me, the kid in the vent had said.

It was impossible. It was physically impossible. All of this was impossible. Had the Void...? Could the Void...?

The ship was at a standstill. Her mother had tried to kill her, and something had happened. She’d made something happen. There had been no holoprojector in that kid’s hand. Nothing was impossible anymore.

Jhia took a deep breath. How the heck was she supposed to do this? Was she supposed to feel something, some internal guide? Blue Hair hadn’t said. Feeling incredibly stupid, she did a quick mental checkup on herself. Nothing felt wrong, or different - but now that she thought about it…

Afterward, she would try many times to explain it, and fail every time. The best she could come up with was that once she found the Void, calling on it was as easy and as natural as breathing. She opened her hands in front of her, concentrated on that force like an extension of herself, reopened her eyes, and there it was: a riotous little ball of energy, wisps and motes of light and not-quite-light like a tiny galaxy, the Tau system in the palm of her hand, raging.

More OC backstory time! This one’s for my Tenno, a nerdy fourteen-year-old (at the time of this story, anyway) by the name of Jhia, going through the hell that is the Zariman Ten-Zero and what happened on it. This is possibly the first part of the story I actually wrote: the roll-credits moment when Jhia realizes the Void’s changed her more already than she thought.

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Hearsay - Lobotomy Corporation/Library of Ruina - one-shot - 1k and counting

"Oh? Did they investigate further?"

"They tried. Found a few fingerprints, but they didn't match anyone in the database."

"What's the update, then?"

"Reports from elsewhere in the district of someone not in uniform carrying a Zwei sword. They're slippery, good at avoiding us, which would suggest Syndicate operative to me and HQ. Except that in every one of the descriptions we managed to get, our sword thief is a child."

"What? How?!"

"You tell me, Iona. You're the one who went to the crime scene."

"Right... Jeez, if it's a kid, I guess that'd explain why Petrov thought they weren't a threat..."

"My thoughts exactly. HQ has a fair amount of hearsay to go on, but nobody can quite agree on how old the child is, or whether or not she's with a Syndicate. Most agree that she appears to be a girl, tall for a child, auburn hair, clothes and demeanor typical of a Backstreets native."

"We got a name?"

"They've heard Yeri, Kali, Redbird, Suma, Aelfin... No one knows which is her real one, or if it's even any of them at all."

"Damn. ...Say, are you going to drink that entire pot of coffee?"

"Help yourself."

This is one of those stories that turned into an accidental AU when more of canon came out. The idea behind it is that it’s Kali’s backstory told entirely in conversations in which she did not participate, showcasing the fact that a Fixer’s fame is their livelihood and Kali was about as famous as they come, before the whole L Corp thing happened. Of course, the vast majority of the headcanons here got invalidated with a certain Ruina update, so my motivation’s kinda down on this one.

---

Going Back has already been talked about here!

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Ella Disenchanted - The Blackout Club - one-shot (maybe two-shot??) - 1.4k and counting

She woke. Her stomach went through a series of panicked flip-flops as she thought something strange had done it, Dad or a little-kid-nightmares shadow beast had made noise, but no - why had she fallen asleep in the first place? Her butt and shoulder were sore where they’d been leaning on the bottom and side of the windowsill, presumably all night, since the sun was full up over the trees on Old Growth Hill. 

All night. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t fall asleep, but she did anyway. God dammit.

As she unfolded herself from her cramped ball, though, she froze. Under the comforter she’d pulled around her shoulders for warmth, she was wearing her gray jacket, a T-shirt, jeans, sneakers getting dried mud all over the carpet. 

Last she remembered, she’d been in her pajamas.

In which a Blackout Club kid’s little sister wonders where he’s gone when he runs away to the boxcar, and tries to get to the bottom of the mystery herself. Usually she’d be too young for the club to recruit, but her investigations and an incident involving SAO are more than enough extenuating circumstance. Unlike most of my other WIPs, there’s a whole outline at the end of my doc for this one.

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Making Peace - Warframe - multi-chapter - 1.5k and counting

“I…” Iksoh finally said. “Sorna, I hope you realize. I’m not into this. I never - I’m not doing this. Whatever you’re doing, I can’t.”

“I know,” Sorna said softly. The decision tore at her heart again and she almost backed out of the vent, but no. She had to go. She wouldn’t see another innocent crumple in her rifle sights. “I hope you realize. I’m not coming back.”

Behind her, Iksoh let out a long, shaky breath. “It’s taking all I’ve got not to report you right now. Sorna… the Queens’ll have my head for this. Please, please, let it be worth it. Go. Don’t let them take yours.”

“I won’t,” Sorna promised, and meant it.

Later, after her last fight for her freedom was done, on the Steel Meridian ship headed for Kronia Relay, Sorna looked out at the planet retreating behind her and thought of Iksoh. She’d just learned a new word from a Meridian soldier: vaykor tal, the defector’s spirit. Iksoh had let her go, at risk of their own life. They’d had a bit of the vaykor tal themself, even if they hadn’t known it, even if they’d thought it was just some weakness that was bound to get them killed.

“Ranre treri, duf krun,” she whispered into space, a Grineer well-wishing passed down from sergeant to tube-fresh lancer since time immemorial. May your hands be steady, and may life be kind.

This is an AU born of me and some friends wondering why in the heck Perrin and the Meridian hate each other so much in game. It’s about a group of Kavor - Grineer defectors distinguished from other Meridian members by their pacifism - who get to a Relay and start wondering the same thing. Besides Sorna (and, later in the story, Iksoh as well), there would have been Chakh, Beket, and Sydon, plus at least four of the syndicate leaders and a bunch of side-character OCs, all caught up somehow in what turns out to be a surprisingly far-reaching web of intrigue.

--

The Slashed Circle - Warframe - one-shot, probably - 429 and counting

In addition to their written and spoken language, the Grineer have a full language of hand signs. It has its quirks, as all languages do - be careful of confusing it with the Corpus sign language, in which the sign for “to pay” roughly approximates the Grineer sign for...a certain portion of the male anatomy. Among these is the common Grineer sentiment against those who defect from their ranks, baked into the sign just as much as their spoken words. 

The sign of the slashed circle, the sedashkur - a finger drawn in a circle on the chest, followed by a diagonal line - is the highest of taboos to any loyal Grineer. It shows support for such scum as the Kavor and Steel Meridian, enough so that it forms the basis for the Meridian’s battle standard. To sign the sedashkur is to betray your siblings, commit a grave insult to your superiors, paint a near-indelible target on your back. It is an object of hatred and fear throughout the ranks.

She fears it, yes, but she does not hate it, for all her life and into her death as well. It shouldn’t trouble her now, though. It is easy to hide a language, and she burned her journals before she was called to the fortress.

This is a fic about Jhia and her one (1) converted Kuva Lich, namely about the process of said Lich’s defeat and defection, that kinda never got off the ground. Contrary to this snippet, I think most of it would have been written in what are essentially space emails back and forth between Lich and Tenno? I definitely got as far as Jhia sending an audio recording of a bass-boosted dog fart, anyhow.

---

Wake Up, Tenno - Warframe - one-shot - 950 and counting

“Wake up, Tenno.”

She wakes. She is - she is Tenno, right? She is a Tenno? Her mind is confused, so full of fog and dead ends - how long was she asleep?

The voice that woke her seems familiar. She might have loved the speaker, in her scrambled past life, the woman in the purple helmet, the one called Lotus in her HUD vision. Her surroundings are a ruin of some sort. Her body is—

...what?

She can move just fine. Her fingers and arms and legs respond with suspicious ease, given how long she must have slept to be this scattered upon waking up, and yet there’s some fundamental disconnect. This is her Warframe, her body, but it’s not her body somehow.

...wait, where did the term “Warframe” come from?

A Tenno, unnamed but intended to be Jhia on my end, wakes up on Earth at the very beginning of the in-game storyline. Since the tutorial has gotten an overhaul in recent months, I may have to modify even what little I have on this a lot.

---

Midnight - Iconoclasts - poem - 280 and counting

been anything smaller than been anything

never been anything smaller than

“good morning, how’s miss grump doing today? i heard about that last mission...if you didn’t sleep well i can call you in sick, it’s alright-” “oh, shut up, grey”

there has never been anything

“oh, shut up, grey” “love you too”

smaller

“love you too”

than

me

A very fragmented, stream-of-consciousness-y poem meant to represent Agent Black’s failing sanity near the end of the game. The words of her famous one-liner (“there has never been anything smaller than me”) are interspersed, out of order until the end, with poetic descriptions of other characters and bits and pieces of a flashback involving Agent Grey.

---

Heliotropism - Iconoclasts - one-shot - 1.1k and counting

Lily, though she’s superstitious, will have none of these self-important truths, none of these semblances of certainty when really all it is is wishing on Ivory and hoping for the best. She calls for Miss Andress instead. 

A stout but severe woman with ten grandchildren and a great-grandchild on the way, Miss Andress is perhaps the quintessential matriarch: nurturing, selfless, brutally honest. She is the one the people of 17 trust when they feel they can trust no one else. Lily needs the kind of reassurance only she can give, with the authority of ninety-one years and the wisdom of two sons, one daughter, and some five dogs raised under her care.

When Miss Andress visits House 4, she asks Polro and Lily to each bring an object they cherish the most. For Polro it’s his largest wrench, pitted with use but still polished to a brassy shine; Lily surprises everyone by pulling out a tiny, unloaded stun-gun, and surprises them more by not explaining it at all. Miss Andress doesn’t question it. She just turns the two tools over and over in her hands, head bowed, squinting at them as if trying to read the secrets of the universe in the scratches carved into them by time.

Finally she straightens up and sighs, pushing a strand of silver hair behind her ear. Her forehead is slick with sweat, though the night is cool outside. “I don’t know what she’ll do,” the wise woman says, heavily, as if delivering bad news. “I just know she’ll change the world.”

Can you tell I like backstory fic? This one is for Robin, with one short anecdote for each year of her life, up to age 17 and the events of the game. It’s also an excuse to world-build a bunch, lol.

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Arrhythmia - Crypt of the NecroDancer - one-shot(?) - 4k and counting

The creature didn’t say anything, just beckoned to the shadows. Before I could move, two other creatures came for me, sending the other humans - former humans? - scrambling away in panic. One landed a hard blow on the back of my head that sent me to my hands and knees, seeing sparks; the other said “Freeze!” and I could only watch as ice sprouted from the leaf litter, cementing me to the ground.

The one who’d hit me produced a dagger from the inside of its cloak. I tried to pull myself up, to do anything at all to keep myself from getting shanked, but it was no good. There must have been a secondary effect on that spell; my limbs wouldn’t respond. I felt the dagger tear cloth in the region of my back, and prepared for the pain.

It didn’t come. The creature cut a slit in the back of my tunic, then another. Neither one touched the skin at all. I can’t really describe what happened next - my brain was having trouble computing how my arms were in front of me, visible, unable to move, but it felt like the creature was pulling them through the gashes in my tunic, but that was wrong, they didn’t feel like arms at all.

“Holy fuck,” I heard someone say.

The ice holding me down melted into nothing as the spell wore off. I jumped back up, head spinning a little, ready for another fight, only to spot two flicks of scarlet in my peripheral vision. I spun around, but they moved with me.

I think I already knew what they were. I just couldn’t admit it to myself.

You’ve already seen this one, Nick, though I’m pretty sure it was well over two years ago. It’s a pile of old headcanons, some of them now outdated I’m pretty sure, about how Nocturna ended up a vampire in the first place and a little bit about how vampire society works. According to Google Docs, I’ve been stuck on this one since March 2018. Whoops.

---

untitled (working title “adult citra meets an impostor bc what is self-control”) - Among Us - one-shot - 572 and counting

“I know. You’re stuck, aren’t you?” Having well and truly gotten their full attention, Citra continues, “God, I can barely imagine. Having to take a weird-ass host whose biology might even be toxic to you, I don’t know. Needing to get to a whole other galaxy, feeling like the only way to do that is by deception and death.” “How…?”

She sighs. “I told you, this isn’t my first rodeo. One of your kind saved my life when I was a kid. Since he’d killed Mom and Dad had been out of the picture long before, he stayed here and helped raise me afterward. It’s how I learned to pronounce...a few of your words, at least.”

“You missed the ‘H’ sound.”

“Isn’t that the one that’s literally impossible to do right with Terran anatomy?”

“Maybe. You think I know Terran anatomy all that well?”

Citra chuckles. “Fair point. You let us find your buddy and fix the ship, I’ll raise Xai when we get comms back and he can try and help you get home. Deal?”

I found an Among Us comic on Tumblr, absolutely ran into left field with it to make a couple of OCs, and then made AUs of those OCs because of course I did. This one is from a future scenario in which Citra (typically orange) meets someone rather familiar on a mission with the crew of the Skeld.

---

untitled (working title “library of ruina but they adopt half the guests”) - Library of Ruina - length uncertain - 1k and counting

“And what happened to not caring about others because it’s a waste of time and heartache?”

Now it’s Roland’s turn to sigh. “I don’t care about him. I just don’t want the guilt of killing - look at him, he can’t be older than eighteen or nineteen!”

Raised eyebrow. “Finn will be twenty years old in fifteen days’ time. He is a legal adult. I fail to see why this should matter to either of us.”

“He’s fresh off his first Fixer license! I have years of experience! He had no idea what he was getting into when he signed that invitation and you know it!”

Angela fixes him with a glare that turns his stomach, his freshly remade body reacting to the memory of its sudden, and extremely painful, dismemberment. “I could quite literally hold your soul in my hands if I wanted,” she reminds him in an undertone of steel. “I must do the same for him, following the invitation’s guidance, or my entire plan will be lost, my coworkers’ sacrifices all for naught. Do not disappoint me or ask any more impertinent questions. You know what to do, and what will happen if you do not.” 

Look, some of the people you fight in this game deserved so much better, okay? I came up with an AU concept where if a guest willingly concedes the fight and agrees to stick around, you can get their book without killing them. Finn doesn’t die; neither do Tomerry or Shi Association; all the former employees realize exactly what’s going on with Philip after the Wedge Office fight and manage to calm him down, avoiding the whole Crying Children situation. (And then Gebura makes him collect his jaw off the floor by revealing herself as the Red Mist.)

---

The one that’s a D&D world concept doesn’t have anything concrete written for it yet. (Don’t read this bit if you might want to play in my campaign at some point!) Instead of your typical Forgotten Realms planar setup, the world at large would be called the Seven Spheres, each of them different in terms of climate, geography, native species and magic, etc. The First Sphere would be the most “generic” one (to our way of thinking) and the main setting of the campaign; it would also be the smallest of the Seven, its primary continent home to a former empire of dragons that spanned most of the Sphere until its mysterious fall a thousand years ago.

Now, since the empire fell, the dragons and their children have slowly been dying out. Best estimates are that there’s only a thousand or two left in the entire First Sphere, with fewer eggs hatched every decade. The player characters enter a world with pretty typical low-level quests to start with, but every so often, especially if they engage with optional story stuff (this would be a more roleplay-focused than combat-focused campaign), they get wind of changes in the air - a failed harvest here, an unusually hot and stormy summer there, a trade war once they start hitting mid-levels.

It mimics real-world climate change in all but cause. As coastal cities struggle to contend with rising seas and, more alarmingly, wizards all over the Sphere start to notice their magic falter and wane, the PCs’ goal becomes getting to the bottom of this. And what’s at the bottom is...your typical Nerd fusion of science with fantasy settings.

The Seven Spheres are not planes of existence in the normal D&D sense, but seven planets in the same solar system, each with its own ancient god far more powerful than any god in any mortal pantheon; the First Sphere is so named because it’s closest to the sun. These planetary gods are incredibly large and incredibly alien, thinking in geologic time and concepts far too broad and slow for most sapient beings to comprehend. A thousand years ago, the fall of the dragon empire was caused by an ill-advised ritual meddling with the god of the First Sphere’s natural process of rebirth, causing said god to die without a replacement.

It’s taken this long for the First Sphere to feel the effects because, again, geologic time - a thousand years is a blink of an eye in this kind of time scale. But now the ancient earth-magic that had kept the Sphere’s climate temperate and its magicians in business is failing. The dragons, as beings of magic intrinsically, have been failing all along. And now it’s up to the PCs, up at level 17-20 if not higher by that point, to figure out how to fix the situation and find a new planetary god for the First Sphere before the whole Sphere burns to death.

[lovinmcu]

A New Life in Cali, ch. 4

Chapter 4

Pairings; Chris Evans x reader

Warnings; none really

A/N; I don’t know how Disney offices are run, but a girl can dream right! And I realize MCU and Frozen 2 timelines don’t match up, but it’s my story so hush it! Lol. making up for such a short ch.3!!!

The alarm goes off way too soon at 6:30 and you hit snooze a couple times and before you know it, you are running late. But at least you’re an artist so no one pays much about your appearance at work. No dress clothes, but no pajamas, plenty of leggings and mickey mouse shirts. That might be one of the best parts of your job. You decided on breakfast at work in order to make it out the door on time.

You arrive at work on time, not that anyone pays that close of attention, but you’re supposed to be there by 8:00 so you do your best. First, you drop your stuff off at the office, and start your computer and get everything turned on for the day. On your way to breakfast, you check with the department secretary to see if there is anything urgent you need to know about. 

“9:30 staff meeting,” she responds.

“Thanks, but first coffee!” You chuckle and head that direction. You were really thankful for the relationship Disney has with Starbucks, so that meant their coffee hut inside the main lobby. They know what you want before you open your mouth, but this morning is a little different, you add a couple shots of espresso and head back to your desk with your caramel macchiato and bagel, knowing full well there would be something to eat at the staff meeting. 

You set back down at your desk at 8:30 and check your email. 

  ·notes on frozen 2

·staff meeting, you already knew about

·note from your boss wanting to inform about adding another project to your plate with Frozen fixing to wrap up. ….wait what?! 

You quickly re-read that one. He’s trusting you to be a lead animator on a Disney short. He wanted ideas to start working a storyboard in 10 days, and there was a list of who you’d be working with. You couldn’t believe it, this was YOUR time to step up your game at Disney. You knew he had liked your style before he hired you. You had also worked as his intern one summer while he was still an animator and when this job came open, you were his first call. 

8:45, you pick up your phone to text your mom the news, you were bursting with excitement. And you realize you hadn’t seen the last message from Chris last night/this morning. 

You glance over it, it says, “GN sweetie.” You close it and open a text to your mom to tell her the good news, about halfway through the text you realize what Chris had called you. Like it finally processed its way through your head. SWEETIE! What?!?! You hurry and finish the text and hit send and reopen Chris’. “So, sweetie huh?���

You go back to emails. Mostly nothing, some quick responses to send back and then you were getting your act together for the staff meeting. Making notes on how far you are coming along on Frozen 2 edits. But you were on cloud nine after the email from your boss this morning. 

*bing*

“Yeah?!?” “So?!?!” “Can I not call you that?” Chris says.

“No, you’re fine, just picking on you. That’s why you keep me around, right?” You hit send and finish up some notes on frozen. 

“Oh, you’re worth keeping around for more than just that.” ;-) “Lunch today?” “You could meet me on set.” Chris quickly responds. You wonder how he responds so quickly. “I’m in makeup, getting all pretty for the day.” Like he read your mind. 

“Awww, that must mean a long day in the make up a chair then! ;-)” You put your phone away and start walking toward the room your staff meetings are. You’re a few minutes early but so is everyone else when there’s food. Everyone is talking about what can this be about at such short notice as they grab drinks and some breakfast and take their seats. You’re bursting with excitement but figured you’d wait for the boss to tell the news of your upcoming project. 

9:28 *bing* oh shit, you mumble because it wasn’t on silent. Nothing had started yet so you take a look at your phone. And your smile got even bigger if that was really possible at this moment. You had a message from mom saying “congrats, can’t wait to hear more”. And just then another came in from Chris.

“HAHAHA very funny!” “so, lunch? I’m on break about 12:30” 

“Sure, I shouldn’t have a problem making it over” “But you’re sooooo far away!” “But something may change with this staff meeting fixing to start” “Gotta go”

“Talk after so I can have your name put on the list so you can get in” Chris responds.

The staff meeting wasn’t much out of the norm. Everyone went around and reported their status on everyone’s projects. Most of them being for Frozen 2 because we were all trying our best to get it finished on time. Things were coming along great, and the boss was pleased. Next, he went through a bunch of announcements, along with, telling the team of your next project. Everyone gave you applause and cheered for you. They all knew how big of a deal it was for someone so new to the staff. Staff meeting ended with the announcement that he wanted all edits in by Wednesday. You’re working late last night paid off or you’d be coming in this weekend. You’d now be able to catch lunch with Chris. And enjoy the pool party tomorrow without stressing. 

10:20 You remember to send a quick message to Chris on the way back to your desk. And then you found something to stress about….a bathing suit for tomorrow. How in the world were you going to make that happen on such short notice? You set down at your desk and take the chance and message Britney. “Wanna go bathing suit shopping after work?”

“Sure thing! I was thinking the same thing!!” Brittney responded. Brittney was 34, the same as you. You were both in the creative field, she is a graphic designer. She moved here from Kentucky, a couple years ago to design concert merchandise for all sorts of huge bands. Turns out you all grew up just a couple hours apart. So she made it feel a lot more like home quickly. 

“Dinner too?” You respond. “I’m in the mood for some pizza.”

“Sure but after we find bathing suits…k?” 

“LOL sounds like an excellent idea.” You respond and try to focus on getting some actual work done today and it’s already 10:45. Where has my day gone?! So you set an alarm for 12:15 knowing that if you don’t you’ll miss lunch all together. You turn to your computer and as your suspected, get totally lost in your work. You always do, because you love what you do. Before you know it you're turning off your lunch alarm and saving your work, grabbing your purse. You decide to walk the 3 or so blocks it is. You message Chris on your way. “Walking on this nice day, be there in a couple of minutes”

“Sounds good, I’ll send my assistant to meet you at the gate”

Before you knew it you were showing your id to the security guard, who knew you already due to working your building a lot too. He always knows the faces of the ones that don’t keep 8-4 hours and always makes sure you make it safe to your car if he’s there after dark with you. Chris’s assistant walks up and introduces herself. She beautiful, and young, and….now you’re feeling jealous. You’re not sure why You and Chris are just friends. But of course, he’s always been on your celebrity crush list, so you do your best to put the thoughts away But she obviously didn’t think much of you because she wouldn’t even speak to you when you asked questions on the way to Chris’ trailer. She knocked. Chris opened the door while pulling his shirt down, obviously changing out of his costume. He stepped back to welcome you both in,  and gave you a hug and kissed your head to greet you. You weren’t really sure what that was about, but you did know his assistants didn’t like it! Her attitude changed to super bubbly and fake when Chris asked about lunch, but he caught you rolling your eyes at how fake. She handed you a menu of things they could make on set, you picked the first thing that looked good, Chris ordered his usual, whatever that was, and she left the trailer. 

“What was that about?” Chris asked as soon as he knew his assistant was out of earshot. 

“What?”

“The eye roll?!”

“Just how fake she was being” You responded. “She barely said two words to me from the gate to here, but as soon as you opened the door and she saw half your bare chest she turned into some bubbly cheerleader”

“Yeah, it’s been getting on my nerves but I thought she was like that with everyone, obviously not by the look you had on your face,” Chris laughed. “She must be jealous!” You rolled your eyes at Chris this time but shrugged as well because you knew he was right. 

You two sat on the couch talking (and flirting just a little) until your food arrived. You asked a ton of questions about filming, you’ve always been curious about it. Wondering what parallels there were too animated films. He graciously answered the ones he could and admitted when he didn’t know the right answer. Before you knew it, miss cheerleader assistant was entering to say our time was up and Chris was needed in wardrobe for his next scene and you needed to get back to get actual work done today. Chris walked you most of the way out until you all got to wardrobe and he wouldn’t let you leave without a giant hug and a peck on the cheek before you parted ways, but not without Anthony giving out a catcall. *yet another eye roll*

On the way back to your office, your head was spinning. To the point you were almost dizzy, overthinking, of course, trying your best to not make too much of the kiss, but you knew you’d have to keep it together for the rest of the day and maybe feel Brittney out on what she thinks over pizza tonight. 

@thejemersoninferno​ 

[courage-a-word-of-justice]

Iruma-kun 13 - 14 | Somali 1 | Magia Record 1 | BnHA 75 | Eizouken 1 | Idolish7 s2 1

New season...incoming!

Iruma-kun 13

How did Iruma even notice that collar? Geesh, that kid is perceptive…

This “spitting blood” joke is getting old already…

*Kiriwo starts his machine* - Why do I get the feeling something bad’s about to happen…?

Could you possibly call this “rank is the most important thing” a study of class consciousness, to throw some of Anime Feminist’s words? Or maybe this is a fantasy version of technology and it’s extolling the virtues of technology advancement?! *eyes sparkle*

Can Iruma join Kiriwo already? Please?!

Aw, dear darling! (<- I’m not sure if I’ve said that a lot in these notes, but I say that when I get the warm fuzzies and wanna protect a character…basically, platonic love, I guess…? Oh, “moe instinct” - that’s the words I’m looking for.) Iruma, go and live your best life, okay?

Thank you, story! Even though I knew it was being foreshadowed so heavily by being the focus of basically 24 minutes of this show’s runtime (= about 1 ep), I thank you from the bottom of my heart that Iruma went to the right Battler.

Wait, so Ameri is actually Iruma’s senpai by one year?! Hmm? I never realised that and I read some spoilers!

I like this new chibi animation style! Yay!

I never noticed this until now, but Kiriwo has one big horn and one little one.

I think the title, aside from the pronunciation of “Thirteen Dinner”, is meant to mean “The Thirteen Counts’ Gathering” (or some other high rank) or something of the sort. Update: So I checked and the character used, kanmuri/kan, is used to mean “crown” or someone who wears a crown, i.e. a peerless person, so it would be appropriate to translate that using the term for a high rank which is presumably going to be stated in the segment itself.

Turns out Babel…is just makaitou (the demon world tower). I don’t think it’s really Babylonian in any strict sense.

Depending on where you live, the 665th floor could count as the 666th or…well, the 665th. I know in Japanese, the word for the floor on the ground is ikkai (first floor)…I’m not going to tell you what I know it as though…that would reveal my location outside cyberspace, no?

According to the katakana, the guy’s name is Beruzebyuto (hence the translation as “Beelzebuth”). Beelzebub is the Lord of the Flies and a quick google tells me Beelzebul (close enough) was apparently an alternate spelling for him (or something like that…?). Patron demon of gluttony.

Astaroth, also a demon (king of rot, I think it was from Blue Exorcist)…interestingly, Beelzebub, Lucifer and Astaroth make up an unholy trio and all of them were referred to by a dude called...Solomon (which does kinda sound like “Sullivan”, if you think about it). There’s the connection between these guys…I like his top, too.

Asmodeus, patron demon of lust. We already knew that demon was represented through Azz-Azz, but now you see a spoiler I’ve been hiding for a while – Azz’s mother.

Amaimon…uh, I don’t remember what kind of demon he is in the demonic canon but I know him from Blue Exorcist.

Behemoth…?

Ooh, Ameri’s father is smokin’ hot! (Dangit, I do not want DILFs…) Azazel, a fallen angel and apparently personification of uncleanliness(…?)

Belial and (Lady) Leviathan, which we already knew existed from initial namedrops.

Who’s Baal? Even I have no idea…Update: Apparently he’s a Middle Eastern equivalent to Zeus, which explains his thunder allegiance.

Paimon kinda looks like Chaika, LOL.

LOL, “lifehack” is certainly the right word for it, Sullivan.

LOL, Belial is so short!

Although it’s kind of awkward to not see Lady Levi take a position of power for herself, it’s nice to see she has spirit!

Aw, this is cute. In much the same way I wanted Iruma to join the magical apparatus Battler, I want Sullivan to be Demon King.

Is Opera perhaps related to Ameri somehow…?

Somali 1

I was hoping to get to Plunderer, but got carried away writing another post and then lost the ability to watch both episode 1 and 2 ahead of schedule. So Somali is the new start of the season, but the last relic of the fact Plunderer was meant to start my season (outside ID: Invaded’s advance premiere) is the visual I have for this season. (Oh yeah, one of the reasons I’m supporting this – aside from it being a mid-ranker on my hype list – is that I heard a French animator, a friend of Thomas Romain, is getting his big start here.)  

“Dad.” – Oh, f***. I have myself an Usagi Drop. I knew I was going to get something of the sort going into this show, but…Usagi Drop’s experiences (or rather, watching the anime knowing the manga has that ending) have left their mark. Not to mention Somali (as this girl will come to be known) has Latina eyes, which annoys me even more since I dropped that on the basis of being scarred by Usagi Drop.

I’m wondering what Crunchyroll was thinking when they decided to coproduce this – sure, it’s probably quite cute and wholesome, but I’m far from the target audience. Did they think, “Is this what Western audiences will like?” Sure, it would hit a niche that likes this surrogate father/daughter stuff, but I don’t think it’s for me (and I’ve been thinking that all through the OP). I’ll give it a bit more to wow me, but it’s doing pretty terrible so far (because note all other anime of this particular reputation I’m more on the “neutral” side than the “like” one). Somali’s voice is probably the biggest factor – it sounds like an adult woman’s voice got pitch-shifted to attempt to be a child, rather than an actual child.

How can this golem talk about sight when he doesn’t even have eyes??? (Kinda like Juzo from NGL.)

Alright, that’s it. I can see when you’re trying to bait me with supposedly “cute” children, show. You’re gone.

Okay, since I have time and the reviews say otherwise, I’m trying again. I don’t expect to be sold to this though…

Was it just me or was there a reduced frame rate when Somali’s cape was the only thing in the frame…?

For some reason the subbers put “Why?” when the word was actually “What?”, which is a bit silly to be honest with you. (Nande?/Doushite? vs. Nani?...it’s kind of similar-sounding, but the sound is distinctly different.)

Still dropping this show. I just have another episode to add to my list now.

Magia Record 1

I heard there’s no Urobutcher this time around, but the first time I encountered the Urobutcher (in ConRevo) he made a particularly weird-feeling (in the context of the show) episode, so…uh…let’s say the Urobutcher is only as good as the material he writes, and leave it at that. Anyways, this topped my list – even before ID: Invaded came to hunt down that top position – so this better be good.

Um, am I just imagining it, or is that Sayaka and Hitomi discussing magical girls (or Madoka?) over the top of Iroha (I know that’s her name already from the synopses floating around the ‘net) and her fellow magical girls fighting?

Letterboxing? Now there’s something I thought I’d never see in Madoka Magica, ever.

One of the books was on organic recipes.

The teacher talks a tad too fast – I can understand what she’s saying, but it’s like she operates on x1.5 speed compared to the x1 speed of everything else…

“Nakama – because we can do it” – I wonder if that will mean something later…? In Madoka Magica, strange details always mean something.

“The only good witch is a dead one!” “Speech is silver, silence is golden.”– The tiny English isn’t particularly subtle, is it?

Uwasa = rumour.

Takarazaki, huh? I’ll make a note of that.

Who’s Ui?

According to the credits, I assume the blue spear girl is Nanami Yachiyo.

This is a respectable re-entry into a universe which I left not too long ago (in 2017). I’m definitely going to be able to stick with it for a season or however long it lasts.

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All this talk about a database…reminds me of the Quirk I designed for the wiki (also called “Database”). I conceived it in 2015, but I don’t remember who was meant to use it before I retrofitted it to fit the BnHA universe. Update: Welp, I found the document. The superpower Database (which was retrofitted to be a Quirk) is for one Itsuki Hatano.

“One blow to the top of the head!”

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(Note: Some notes may be missing because I was busy multitasking while watching this episode.)

Go, Iruma! Live your best life!

Note “speak of the devil” isn’t how it’s said in Japanese. It sounds something like “whisper a rumour and it will come back to you” based on what I heard Kiriwo say (since I heard the word uwasa in there). Update: Apparently the phrase is uwasa wo sureba… (if you spead a rumour…) and then you cut the saying off to finish the rest of the sentence, just like you would in English.

You can’t even see a substantial part of Iruma’s hair when that demon on the phone (<-I know who it is, because I read spoilers, but I’ll keep quiet on that front!) yells for the first time.  

Makura (demon pillow) has that demon pun going on.

Ooh, Kiriwo-senpai is actully kinda sexy with his hair up like that…not that I know the first thing about sex appeal…

So is the ED about the Battler Party, in a sense?

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I picked this show up because of the rave reviews it was getting.

Very Future Boy Conan, that.

…what? That OP was trippy. Then again, I didn’t mind ConRevo and that was trippy…this negative feeling is probably because I don’t know much about Masaki Yuasa’s quirks, I guess.

Why do people not translate “Eizouken”???? It means “video research club”.

The back is a good spot to sit in a theatre for anime. Why do I know this? I sit in the back of my anime club all the time, that’s why!

“Are those MiBs?” – I laughed pretty hard at that one sentence.

Why does this strawberry milk seem to be a parallel to the milk Asakusa promised Kanamori? (P.S. Asakusa is in Tokyo, IIRC.) Update: Mizusaki means “on top of water” if I understood the kanji right and Kanamori, with the right combo of characters, can mean “forest of gold”...which makes a lot of sense, considering how gold is equated with wealth and currency. Also, here’s proof Asakusa is in Tokyo...not to mention it’s the place from Sarazanmai! Meanwhile, I was thinking there was some sort of anime-related significance to the name, but I was thinking of Asagaya.  Update 2: Mizusaki actually means “water peninsula”. Sorry, wrong saki.

I know there’s a chase scene at the end of this ep, thanks to reading reviews. I want to be wowed by it, which is why I’m (metaphorically) holding my breath.

I like how Asakusa and Mizusaki are bouncing around ideas. That really brings the process to life.

Long skirts and wind but no sexualisation. That’s a good sign!

Whoa, that scene with the comets was AWESOME! I want more!

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Back with some good boys one season too early…let’s have some fun while these simulcasters can get this stuff fast!

Oh no! (<- self-censored) Nagi’s stupid accent is back! *yells incoherently for a second*

I like the little sound effects that happened whe Nagi’s finger moved around (to suggest “magic”).

I think the joke was something to do with the word gera (?). I don’t quite get it myself.

Misuta- Shimooka, LOL. I love how this s2 isn’t doing any hand-holding, though! I half-expect a flashback to appear and it never does.

Yamato, how are you so-*crying and Yatta! can be heard in the background*Okay, nevvvvvvvvvver mind…

I remember mistakenly saying that Nishiyama was part of Idolish7 (since I looked through some of my old notes lately). Nishiyama is part of ZOOL, so now…I’m not wrong anymore…(That’s not quite relevant to the random announcement of Re:Vale showing up, but it’s on my mind now.)

Hmm…Yamato’s thoughts on Re:Vale…I’ll keep an eye on him.

I think people like Tamaki because he treats them like he would his little sister…a true gentleman. Or maybe that’s all in my head? I haven’t been in the fandom properly, y’know.

This switch to occasional chibi antics…I’m not sure I like it…

Ohmyglob! Another boy to add to my growing list of husbandos! *points at Yuki* I knew he existed, but I haven’t had a proper chance to have a reaction to him ever since I started really “having a thing” for long-haired guys.

Re:Vale are like a comic act (manzai).

Momo has pink nail polish…I just noticed. Update: It’s probably more red than pink.

“Chan-momo” appears to be a variety of modern slang similar to Pig Latin. Apparently Gen from Dr Stone uses it as well.

Yuki has these cute little diamond earrings and Momo has studs. I’ve also never noticed this until now. (I, myself, can’t wear anything past clip-ons because I have a genetic quirk that makes it annoying to get my ears pierced, called beta thalassemia, so I can only fangirl about other people’s earrings.)

What’s the FSC again…?

Kyu-to aidoru!

I think Momo and Yuki are going to reach out to Mitsuki and Tamaki (respectively) most this season…just a feeling, based on their dispositions. Tamaki and Yuki have similar faces, on top of that, so thank goodness we can tell them apart by hairstyle.

Yuki wears this steel blue shade of nail polish…ooh, also cute.

*Riku goes stiff-faced* - *audibly facepalms at Riku’s reaction*

Momo has a black and green earring set on one ear…huh.

Ooh, very nice. It’s a keeper.

Update: Apparently, you pronounce their name “Re:ba-re”, which is a bit different to what I was expecting (essentially “Re: veil”).