#i wrote half of it and forgot to save the draft and lost it and had to write it all over again

[jingyichickenwings]

This is less of a Deep Cut and more of a case of schadenfreude, but I love when various members of a creative team are messy in public about their high budget group project. Reality TV for nerds. It speaks to a profound lack of media training or fucks given. You guys realize that future employers can Google you, right? Unintentionally hilarious.

Linke and Yee were told in no uncertain terms that their season 1 storyboard was shit, so they hired Overton, who hired half a dozen actual writers, and they did basically a full overhaul. The script was objectively much better. But this was Linke's baby, and several years later you still see signs that he is Big Mad that he didn't get his way, and that he doesn't know or care about what actually became season 1 canon. I'm sorry that your Jewish stereotype villain didn't get to be a pedophile, I guess? Idk. Yes, yes, I am sure your version of Svengali is really innovative. Maybe someday, buddy.

Meanwhile they start writing season 2 in early 2020, while the season 1 air date isn't until November of 2021. So, they don't have public feedback on the script yet, just, yanno, actual writing professionals. Anyway, according to Overton, they needed to fire the non-management part of the writing team because of the pandemic?! Lmao babygirl you do your best and I respect commitment to the official PR excuse but nobody sensible believes this. Netflix writers average 110k/year, and you needed six or so from season 1. That is not a big part of the overall budget. Also, y'all could have saved money with Zoom meetings.

So the very thing that saved the season 1 script got line-itemed "because of the pandemic". That sounds like an extremely convenient excuse for Linke to be like, no, fuck you all, we are going back to Plan A, the rough draft of season 2 based on his shitty version of season 1. Honey. That ship has sailed. You already lost this argument.

So presumably some combination of Linke/Yee/Riot/Netflix was like, it's important that we have at least one actual grown adult writer on staff. So Overton gets to keep her job.

Now, I want to preface this by saying that season 2 would have been even worse without Overton. That being said, there is a reason they needed a deeper bench of writing staff. Overton and Linke over-connect with the characters Caitlyn and Jayce respectively, to a degree that they frequently forgot to evaluate how other characters would likely behave in certain situations. It led to contrivances, plot holes, etc. There is a lot I could add here but tbh go read any of the meta already out there.

In addition to the Mary Sue type behavior, Overton thought it would be Neat to make the writing more like Avengers, like multiverse time travel fuckery is a shiny beach pebble and not narrative napalm. What in the ADHD was she thinking? Even if they had the run time to world build enough for this, there was nothing in season 1 to even suggest this as an option. And let's be fucking honest, multiverse a lot of why Marvel is on a downward spiral. If Viktor can go to Build-A-Bear Workshop and 3-D print a million Jayces, why should I give a shit about his kill count? He can just be kind, rewind, and try again. Actions are decoupled from consequences.

Anyway, moving back to the topic at hand of the Arcane team. Apparently, Overton, Linke and Yee only half-wrote season 2?! Linke said something about how they "extensively collaborated with Fortiche on the story"? Which, it's not inherently a bad idea to get creative feedback from your art team, but ummm, maybe the writers and Fortiche should have worked to a point of agreement on basic story beats. Based on a lot of what Fortiche has said, the art for season 2 passive aggressively advances what they wanted the writing to be against Linke's wishes. They literally have just been straight up disagreeing with Linke and getting paid for it. Which, to be fair, I respect the sheer pettiness! Linke can't write his own damn show but wants to slow down the very expensive art team? When the actual writers that got fired "because of the pandemic" would have caught a lot of the season 2 issues?

So post airing of season 2, Overton is all about that girlboss copaganda, Linke is having multiple public meltdowns and getting fired by Riot(?), and multiple voice actors and artists at Fortiche are being like "yeah, we actually wanted something else so there are now multiple competing narratives for season 2". Which is hilarious. The way in which the show is messy is the same way in which the creators are messy. These bitches are a cautionary tale about hubris and the need to engage in team-building.

(EDIT MARCH 11: the fired rumors seem to be old/inaccurate, see comments for details)

[aetsiv]

You guys don't understand my pain, I wrote an entire rant thing on Jesper and his power as a Fabrikator to post while I was half asleep and I forgot to save it to my drafts so it's lost forever.

I'll probably rewrite it and post it again sometime this week or not, it depends on how much time I have and if I'm able to put it into words.

[the-gayest-tree-you-ever-did-see]

drop the lore for your song !

(insert "sorry i put this in drafts and immediately forgot about it" cake here. sorry i put this in drafts and immediately forgot about it!!!)

okay so first i guess we should probably drop the lyrics, theyre on bandlab but also who give a shit. here you go:

-and you sit there like youre some starry-eyed god

asking for sacrifice, knowing what i lost

and what can i do but follow you?

i made you my temple, just follow through

and your honor, you sit and stare as i stand witness

to this man burning everything i love down with this building

and from the ashes his eyelash comes falling, i make a wish

it wont ever come true but ill make him pray it did

and god, my god i would follow you to death

you know this so you hold a blunt knife to my neck

i am more than just your satisfactions and regrets

but you are less than i thought, you are less and you're not even worth it

i am breathing just a little and calling it a life

you are walking in the wild with a mass market knife

and it feels so juvenile to talk it all through

we are teenagers at battle, we are always coming true

HOW DOES IT FEEL TO KNOW YOU COULD NOT HAVE SAVED ME?

AND DO YOU BELIEVE IN EVERYTHING YOU SEE ON THE NEWS

CAUSE YOU SHOULD KNOW BY NOW THAT ALL KIDS DO IS LOSE EVENTUALLY.

I HATE THAT YOU COULDNT SAVE ME.

that must mean im stronger.

you said you would protect me.

but im like ocean water.

and youre like twenty three!

so i choose now between honesty and dignity

and i cannot worship a god i cant believe

yeah i tore my palms down your altar

for war, blood must taste sweet

i dont know what to do to make you believe that im insane

you made me, made me you, made me who i am

no you didnt make me, i made me, you were just a tool

ill say anything so ill sleep the whole night through

first piece of lore: i did in fact write this in tumblr drafts. people tend to not believe me when i tell them but notes app is far too open. tumblr drafts is for the arteries. also the sense of danger from my drafts being cleared or my account being deleted (which happened) keeps me on my toes.

second piece of lore: this is less of a song and more of a conglomeration of words i thought go together good. i didnt really have a plan for this as i was writing it, it sort of formed the image and story it has as i wrote and only when i was "done" (the song isnt complete but im done writing it for now) did i have it completely. my sister said the phrase "starry-eyed god" and i ran from there! i was kind of toying with the idea of being hurt by someone who doesnt really believe they are harming you, and sort of falling across that line all the time of are they really innocent or are they playing innocent.

i also liked the idea of being so in love with someone that you'd worship them, not understanding that that isnt love, its obsession. lots of misunderstandings and insanity in this bad boy.

this is also definitely the ending half of the song. in my recording the end is a little fucked because, third piece of lore, i accidentally slammed my hand on the table out of passion and spent the rest of the song trying not to cry in pain. why did i push through, you may ask. why didnt i just stop and rerecord in a minute. well im something of an artiste (idiot)

that bit on "what can i do but follow you/i made you my temple just follow through" where im high and singing almost reverently is what i want more of the beginning to sound like. for this section we have more of those divine chorus vibes peeking through every once in a while, so the beginning will have this almost spoken desperate vibe peeking through, but majority of that high angel voice for most of it.

okay this is already long so im gonna stop here with general lore -- if you want me to go through the lyrics as well and talk about that, i am more than happy to!! lyrics are my favorite parts of a song, especially writing-wise, so i would love that actually. some of the lyrics in this are inspired by poetry so its pretty fun to look back and see.

thank you for asking!! i love you sm <33

[barofsoap50]

in the corner of my room, past the tv and the bed, on my desk there’s a little heart shaped box, given to me 4 valentines ago filled with pairs of heart patterned socks. i don’t know where those socks whent, but i gave the box a new purpose of its own. in the box you have random things, like an everything drawer in a kitchen, except it’s not screwdrivers and a broken ceramic mug we said we’d glue back together but never did.

i have polaroids of that one time summer school took us on a boat.

a note i got in this secret santa style activity at school ,only it wasn’t secret santa it was secret appreciator, and a foreign girl in my class wrote how hard i try and how nice i dress and how everyone can see it, telling me to read this whenever i feel worthless.

a wood chip from the bench at the capital’s park from when the school took us out and we just layed on the bench talking about musicals and how cool they are, staying with that friend all day since the friend group was starting to leave her out.

the white eyeliner pencil that desperately needs a sharpening after i used it on my coursework reproductions while on a call with a friend.

the earring studs my friend forgot at my house when she slept over and we filled our tiktok drafts until 3am.

a micro sd card i pulled from my nintendo switch to have more space on my camera, filled with both an animal crossing save file and 146 photos from two years ago.

but my favorite is the two friendship bracelets i have with the one best friend i’ve never lost hope in. i have one bracelet where it’s half a butterfly ,of course her having the other half. and i have that one shein miles and gwen bracelet with the magnetic heart. i’m miles she’s gwen. she has a boyfriend of her own, but after not seeing eachother for so many years what we loved after meeting again was itsv/atsv. every time we’d see a picture of them we go “us” and laugh our asses off.

i hope in the future this heart box comes to use, like the times i’d feel unloved and down after some big breakup of 2 years, or a divorce of 2 decades. or when i grow old, and i don’t remember anything of the life i used to live, so joyful and loving, all of it is just sitting in a tiny box under the ceramic plates and cups i tell my great grandkids not to touch, sitting around a mary statue, at her feet is the pictures of my friends that have passed away, all on an antique table. and i hope that when i don’t remember anything, my grandkids would bring me this red heart shaped box filled with badly lit photos , a rusty micro sd card, and a wood chip that’s fallen to dust, and pray that it can just bring back the memory of what once was the happiest life i’ve lived.

[marvellousstawler]

So, months ago, I found my old writing, wrote a post after getting inspired, forgot that I had saved the draft of that post, found the same old writing again (having forgotten that I had found it earlier in the year), got inspired by it again, went to write a new post about it, and found the draft of the old post. Thanks amnesia!

Thus, instead of posting a journal this week because I haven't written it yet and don't really want to do it this evening on account of being inspired, you're getting this draft I made from literally several months ago that I never actually posted. Enjoy?

Oh wait no. Holy crap, I just reread this post before posting it and realised it was a completely different draft from months ago, after getting inspired by my old writing, that I never actually posted. So maybe you'll get that one next week or maybe you'll get it another time anyway who cares read my drivel.

---

So. I found my old writing!

I say “old.” It’s probably from about three or four years ago, I definitely remember showing it to some people at Uni. And I say “found,” I opened my backup folder on my Google Drive. But! The improvement in my understanding of writing and story construction (as well as my capacity to set achievable goals) is so noticeable, that it *feels* old.

As such I spent most of my workday yesterday checking out my old writing on company time. Most people who do this go off about how their writing is “cringe,” but my writing isn’t yet old enough to have achieved cringe. (And the stuff that would be old enough was all lost in the iPad Pages Purge Of ‘16, RIP). But no, in my case, the worst thing I can say about my writing was that it was boring and uninspired. Most of it was more telling than showing because I had SO much to cover, because I started with way too much on my plate.

But beneath the boring stuff there were some genuinely inspiring concepts buried in there, which is good, because the work I’m currently doing is built on the corpse’s corpse’s corpse of a story that started when I was 12. Nisa, my current antagonist, is an explicitly Mary-Sue villain built from my unwittingly Mary-Sue protagonist from back in the day. Typically the compelling stuff is not about Nisa, in fact most of the stuff from the backup folder that could feasibly called cringe is about her. I still wasn’t fully comfortable being gay, so nearly every chapter is someone else talking about how great Nisa is, while still having this half-hearted “but she’s like, still really clumsy and stupid ok” air about it.

But!! It was the chapters who weren’t about Nisa at all who had the interesting concepts in them. Most notably, I had a prequel for a pair of “reformed villains” (they were just heroes the whole time because I don’t know how to not make everyone a protagonist), and in this prequel, Sorrel (who you will recognise as a protagonist for the current prologue when TDD actually gets posted) has been dead for nine years before coming back to life because of primordial god shenanigans. She died a martyr, having left a set of instructions for how to build a government for her murderer to follow and ratify out of guilt (i don’t have time to explain the context and it was never concrete, but it did make a modicum of sense at the time). When she revives, the country she left behind HAS been rebuilt, but clearly her brutish murderer fudged the instructions. And is also nowhere to be found, which is important because she was supposed to be running the place.

And that’s a cool concept! Showing up and realising that while you’ve been gone the political and social structure of the world you left behind is BONKERS. And the good news is, I have an organic way to introduce it into TDD. Nisa and She-Bear spend like 20 years being trapped in a moon and holding the moon together respectively, meaning that when the pressure builds and the moon explodes (they’ll be fine) they’ll be yeeted onto a planet they used to lead which now has like, shopping malls and toll roads.

I accidentally typed “shopping mauls” initially and that is an idea that people are welcome to take further.

[oceanivoxjoquainx]

i also love samquin thanks to you 🥺 i gasped when i saw danny ramirez fine self with facial hair. it was just *chef's kiss*, you know? 🤤 elevated the whole look. i want to know your headcanons about sam seeing joaquin with facial hair for the first time. maybe they're meeting up after a long time. what's his reaction? does the hair tickle him when they embrace? 😄

I am soooooo so glad you asked about this anon! I have many an idea 🤭 Also glad you love samquín now because of me! I love when other folks fall in love with them like i have!

With that everyone get ready forrrrr

Samquín Headcanons ☀️🌈: The Beard

Sam had decided that it was best for his mental health and his and his families safety if he left the military, quit the Avengers, and left the name of The Falcon behind three years ago. He did it once before when he lost Riley, and he figured it was time to do it again. He and Joaquín argued about it the last time they spoke and it ended in Sam flying away before trashing the wings. Little did he know Joaquín was following him and salvaged them.

Sam did his best to stay far away from anything avengers or super solider or world threatening and focused on supporting and helping his family down in Lousiana. He finally had the peace he always wanted and the safety he had wanted to give to his sister and nephews.

He was able to reestablish himself in the community and continue the work his father started all thos years ago. He went back to his job as a social worker and made sure everyone in his neighborhood was fed every week, slowly expanding his outreach every month until everyone knew that if you were hungry you could just go to the Wilson house and you were taken care of. It was the life he was used to and at that moment what he wanted.

Until some old enemies showed up right on his door step.

He fought until the end but there was only so much a man three years out of practice could do. He could only buy his family enough time to get far away and he determinedly got up every time he was knocked down.

He was down on the ground, about to succumb to his injuries, vision blurry through sweat, blood, and tears, until he saw a figure fly down and begin incapacitating the hostiles one by one. The person had a familiar build with a long mullet but was wearing a green and yellow suit, outfitted with a pair of what looked like bronze wings.....

Sam was in disbelief as he studied the persons fighting patterns and the wings attached to his back. The wingspan, the missiles, and even the stabilizers were all known to Sam. Those were HIS wings!

Soon enough all the fighting stopped and the only person left was the person who had Sam's wings. Sam was barely conscious as the person ran over to him and checked out his body, pressing down and studying for wounds and bruises, before picking him up bridal style and tucking his head into his own neck. The man's beard tickling his jawline was the last thing he remembered before slipping away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam woke up to sounds of rhythmic beeping over his head. His eyes opened very slowly to focus on the white, sterile ceiling above him. His body ached in a soreness he hadn't felt in years but he still felt high enough to not feel it too much.

He looked to his left and saw a heart monitor and a IV drip hanging near his head and into his arm, confirming that he was indeed inside a hospital. Rolling his head over to his right he saw a chair next to the bed with but unexpectedly it wasn't empty.

The man reclining with his eyes closed had a massive mullet paired with the most sexiest anchor beard Sam had ever seen. His first reaction was to immediately reach out and touch it.

His feeble attempts at moving his arms seemed to stir the other man from his rest and his eyes opened, locking onto Sam's where they immediately identified themselves to him.

"Joa...Joaquin?" Sam's voice was cracked and croaky and didn't sound like him. Sam tried to cover his mouth only to find his arm still felt like putty.

Joaquín leaned forward and took Sams hand into his own and rubbed his face against it. "Yeah, it's me. Be quiet though, you're still on the mend." Joaquíns voice was breaking itself as he rubbed his face and beard in Sam's hand. At points Sam's fingers would close around a certain section and they'd stay like that for a while before Joaquín began moving again.

"Where the hell did all this come from huh?" Sam asked. He was amazed at how different Joaquín looked with some extra hair on his face. It was a good different. A sexy different. He wasn't sure if it was the drugs or the fact that the man he left behind three years ago was now sitting on at his bedside but he was definitely feeling a 'flip me over and ravage my hole' different.

"Heh thanks, I'll definitely be keeping that in mind." Joaquín answered, his face heating up and a red blush creeping up his neck and onto his face. "It's just something that happened and I liked it so I kept it."

Sam didn't mean for him to hear the last part but it didn't matter in the long run. It was like falling back into old habits.

Sam attempted to sit up in order to properly look at Joaquín before coughing and giving up. The room began spinning and he felt his eyes closing again. With a groan he closed them. He felt Joaquín return his hand to his waist and then rest his own head in his lap, his beard tickling his stomach as he fell asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three weeks had passed since Sam was allowed to be taken home and Joaquín stayed with him the entire time taking care of him and everything he needed.

Sam couldn't remember the last time someone had taken care of him. He was always taking care of other people. Joaquín would get water, cook meals, help him to the tub, even wash his back. It was... nice.

He still had his family in hiding while he stayed at the house to make sure no one else came for him but he made sure Joaquín let Sarah know he was alive and okay when he able to fully sit up in the hospital.

Sam usually kept the same routine each day and as it was sunset he hobbled his way onto the back patio and sat down in the porch swing. The rocking movements always soothed his troubled mind as a child and they did so again now. He and Joaquín still didn't really discuss anything about their last and first day in three years together and he wasn't sure how to bring it up.

He knew he was wrong for leaving as he did with no contact for three years, he just didn't know if he should bring it up since everything seemed okay for now. There was always a hint of tension in the air when the house was dark and quiet and Joaquín had put Sam in his bed, lingering in the door frame as if to say something before just saying Goodnight and leaving. But other than that everything seemed... okay.

As if summoned by Sam himself, the back door opened and Joaquín stepped out onto the back patio and scanned the area before noticing Sam and coming to sit next to him. He had brought a blanket out with him and threw it over the two of them before resting his head on Sam's chest. The hair from his beard piercing Sam's shirt and tickling his chest. It was a routine the two fell into some days ago, none of them moving to break it any time soon.

"Knew I'd find you out here. The sunsets down here are always so beautiful."

"Yeah that's why pops built the house facing east. Best view in all of America he'd say."

The two sat together in silence watching the sun fall ever so slowly past the horizon. Tension was slowly building up again and Sam had no clue what it was from.

He had to say something.

Anything really.

He couldn't go on without saying something.

So he did.

"Jo... Joaquín... I was an ass back then. I shouldn't had left you behind to fend for yourself and I should've called, texted, sent a dam email, something. But I was worried about myself, my sister, my nephew's, I didn't think for a second that I was leaving my other family member behind and alone. And for that I'm so sorry."

"It's... well no it's not okay. It hurt me that you didn't consider me family. We were all but married back then. You were my life. I thought I was at least an important part of yours.... but you left and then trashed your wings and dissapeared. Figured I'd never see you again." Joaquín sighed. He sat up and brought his knees up to his chest and hugged them tightly.

Sam didn't know what to do. He had caused this. He did what was best for him and his family but completely left Joaquín behind and in the cold. He did miss him. He just thought he'd be safer without him around but turns out Joaquín was the one saving his ass anyways.

"The wings?" Sam asked.

"Oh i found em right where you left em. Picked em up, took em home, studied em, reverse engineered my own pair. Yours are still sitting in my workshop. I kept it just in case you... ya know... ever came back..." At this point his head was turned away from Sam.

Sam couldn't see the tears but he could hear Joaquín sniffling and wiping his face.

"Hey...." Sam whispered as he wrapped his arm around Joaquín's back, "From what I saw.... you were awesome, perfect even. I shouldn't have left you. You're my family too..." He began poking Joaquín's side.

"Come onnnn Jojo. Look at me. Please?"

Joaquín replied with a grunt and shuffled his head further into his arms.

"Jojooooo," Sam reached under his face and tilted his head up to face him. His eyes where shining with tears and his face was streaked with tear lines. His lips were visibly trembling and his beard had grown noticeably longer. Sam held his chin in his hands and ran them over his beard repetitively in a soothing motion that lead to Joaquín leaning back into Sam.

"I promise I'll never leave you behind again. The past three years were great but these three weeks with you were the best of my life. I hate that it took getting my ass handed to me for me to realize that but my life with you in it is infinitely better." Sam lamented.

Joaquín finally spoke again, "I've loved spending this time with you too, but it still hurt. It's gonna take time for me but I want you in life too." He rested his forehead against Sams and sighed, "I can't stay here with you for much longer. I have unfinished business to take care of but after that's done I'll come back."

"I'm coming with you." Sam replied determinedly, "Wherever you go I'm going too."

"No... no. You still need to heal and you're still needed here. I'll be okay! I took in the mantle of The Falcon and I'm doing what I have to. Can we just enjoy what we have for now until it's time?"

Sam scanned his face and saw he was serious and decided to let it go. He had no place to make demands of Joaquín and he wanted to give him as much length as he needed.

"Yeah... yeah okay..."

"Cool." Joaquín perked up and kissed Sam in his forehead, his beard ticking his face before resting his head back on Sam's face, wrapping his arms around Sam's waist, and continuing to watch the sunset.

Sam broke the silence again, "I just have to ask though..."

"Hm?"

"Where did this beard come from?" Sam asked stifling a laugh.

"Aw shut up!" Joaquín pushed at Sam's stomach and laughed which in turn caused Sam to laugh. "It just grew out while I was going through it and I liked it so I've been working with it okay!"

Sam chuckled at Joaquín's exasperation and slight embarrassment before saying, "I love it. It looks good on you. In fact its kind of sexy."

Sam felt Joaquín's body stiffen on top of him amd heard his breath hitch. There was obviously some attraction to each other and an innate closeness the two had, but they never discussed what exactly they were to each other. Not everything needed a label of course but they just never talked about it. They always glided into these situations.

"Heh. Thanks."

Sam looked down at Joaquín's head and stroked his hair and carried his hands over the other man's shoulder and down his side repetitively. He heard Joaquín sigh before hearing the rhythmic sounds of his sleep. He didn't know what was running through the other man's mind but he knew that this moment was perfect and if he could, he'd stay like this forever.

He thought his life for the past 3 years was what he wanted but turns out this was exactly what he was missing.

[zevlors-tail]

Mornings

A/N: Just a little TodoDeku x Reader thing I had saved in my drafts. I feel like some of it doesn’t flow, sorry. I worked on it at different times, and to be completely honest, I wrote it in a different POV when I started it so I had to go back and change the first few paragraphs. I figured you guys needed something, and this gave me a break from everything else. 

Pairing: Poly TodoDeku x GN!Reader

Warnings: Mild angst, Todoroki crying, mention of nightmares, shirtless Izuku

Genre: Mild angst, mostly domestic fluff.

Oh yeah I forgot because I was tired but I came back here to emphasize that this is an established poly relationship between Izuku, Todoroki, and the reader, and that both boys and the reader are aged up 21+ as they always are in my poly pairings.

The blaring of an alarm clock drags you from your sleepy reverie as you slowly come to. Your eyes are still tired and blurry, but you recognize the familiar green mop of hair to your right as Izuku’s. It takes you a minute to process everything with your brain still half asleep, but you feel him reach around and over you to hit the snooze button, effectively silencing the bane of your existence every morning. Squinting, you roll over and read the time; 5:00 am is way too damn early to be awake right now.

The boy who only moments ago had been snoring peacefully next to you suddenly sits up, stares blankly for a moment to gather his bearings, then carefully slips out of bed so as not to wake you and Shouto (though it was a bit too late for your sake). When he realized you were staring him down with groggy eyes and a cute pout, he smiled but couldn’t help feeling bad for waking you up. He tried to apologize quietly, ruffling your hair gently before giving you a quick kiss on the cheek while telling you to go back to sleep. But you knew it was too late for that, and you rubbed at your eyes sleepily as you watched him change into the familiar pair of basketball shorts he used to work out in and one of his many signature graphic tees.

“Zuku, can I go with you on your run?” you whispered, trying to push yourself up from the bed slowly. But before you could make it all the way up, a pair of arms wound their way around your torso, and you felt yourself being dragged back down to the mattress softly. Todoroki nuzzled his face into your neck from behind, exhaling a warm puff of air that sent goosebumps down your arms and caused the hair at the nape of your neck to raise slightly.

“I don’t think Shouto wants you to,” Izuku chuckled, “although I’m sure he would understand if you did. Do you want me to wait for you?”

Behind you, Shouto mumbled a halfhearted “Stay,” sleep evident in his voice as he drifted back to dreamland before he even finished speaking.

The warmth he radiated and the soft blankets you snuggled back into were enough to keep you from trying to get up a second time, and you were entirely tempted to succumb to the newfound drowsiness that washed over you. “S’ fine...” you murmured to your partner. If you had the energy to say more you would have, but Shouto’s even breathing was lulling you to sleep faster than you realized. “Hey...Deku?” The words were barely coherent, but they were there and he heard them. He took them especially serious at the mention of his hero name, which he knew you only used when you really needed something.

“Yes, sweetheart?” He made his way over the edge of the bed, kneeling down to your level as he lightly ran his thumb over your jawline in a loving way.

“Can I have your sweatshirt? Smells like you...” Your eyes were already closed again, facial features relaxing as Izuku continued to caress your cheek with his thumb.

“Of course, love.” Izuku smiled at the request. He gave you one last look of adoration before starting to rummage through the room for a specific hoodie that he’d worn to work this week; it happened to be his softest one, and he’d drenched the thing with his cologne on accident, so it probably still smelled like him.

He let out a small noise in triumph as he found the sweatshirt on the back of his computer chair before he gave it an experimental sniff to make sure it really was clean. It was, although he’d definitely used way too much of his cologne for his liking; good thing he wasn’t the one who would be using it today. Making his way back to you, he scrunched his nose up at the overbearing smell and let a puff of air out of his nose. You would love it.

“Here, baby.” You felt him gently shake you to get your attention, but you refused to open your eyes, instead latching onto his arm that held the hoodie and cuddling up to both. “H-Hey, hun-” Izuku let out a quiet laugh at your reaction while carefully trying to pull his arm away. You eventually gave in and let go, preferring to rub your face into his shirt and take a deep breath in to smell his cologne. “I love you both dearly. Sweet dreams.”

And with one last pat to both your and Shouto’s head, Izuku was out the door and on his usual morning run.

The next time you woke, golden rays of sun were filtering in through the blinds covering your window and Todoroki was stirring quietly next to you, a yawn escaping his lips. You were curled tightly into a ball, your arms curled into your chest while your hands grabbed at something you didn’t remember having before bed last night. Opening your eyes and letting them focus for a moment, you realized you were holding one of Izuku’s favorite hoodies, and a few fleeting memories from earlier in the morning returned as you rolled over to greet Shouto.

“Hi, baby.”

Shouto smiled affectionately at your hello and brought a hand to rest against your cheek before leaning in for a kiss. “Morning, babe. Did you sleep okay?”

“I did. How did you sleep, princess?” you teased.

“I slept okay,” he forced out after an odd pause. You could tell there was more he wanted to say, that there was an unspoken ‘but’ at the end of his words, though he remained quiet and didn’t explain any further.

“Are you having those dreams again?” you asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. You weren’t really afraid to ask, but you knew it could bring up bad memories for him if you pried any more than necessary.

“No.” He frowned, but the tension in his face didn’t leave. “I haven’t had any dreams about my father for a really long time now, ever since I moved in with you and Izuku.”

You were touched. You’d known since the start of your relationship that Todoroki sometimes had night terrors, and most of the time they consisted of his father or his mother, maybe even a few other family members. It wasn’t uncommon for either you or Izuku to get a phone call from him in the middle of the night or first thing in the morning right as you were waking up before you all moved in together. It had happened a few times after you were all sharing the house together, but someone had always been there physically to comfort him after that. And now that you thought back on it, it had stopped shortly after the move, which meant that having you and Izuku around all the time must have really helped him cope.

“Really? I’m so glad to hear that! We were really worried about you for a while, you know.” You smiled and ran a hand through his hair gently causing him to hum in appreciation and lean into your touch. His hand fell from your face and came to rest atop the one carding through his hair, momentarily pulling it away to stop the motion even though it seemed he wanted more.

“I love you,” he said suddenly, firmly, as if he would never again get the chance. His tone startled you, and you met his heterochromatic eyes to see tears forming in the corners of them.

“I love you too. Hey, what’s wrong?” You kept your voice soft so as not to further overwhelm him, though your chest flooded with anxiety about what could possibly be bothering him.

Shouto squeezed your hand tightly before responding, eyes scrunching up as he bit back a sob and sniffed. “I don’t have those dreams anymore, which is nice, but...” He couldn’t help the small cry that escaped his throat; you felt your heart crack at the sound. “It was a nightmare, a-and you...Midoriya...I couldn’t save you-!” 

You wasted no time in pulling your partner to your chest, your arms wrapping around him securely as you placed his head under your chin. Shouto was a silent crier, but his body heaved with every breath and shook with every tear that left him. You did your best to provide comfort. The three of you were all too familiar with nightmares, as they were often a product of your jobs as heroes, and each of you had been subject to awful dreams after failed missions and jobs gone wrong. In fact, you recalled having one just the other night about a particular villain you’d fought against and lost to earlier in the month- if it weren’t for Bakugou, you weren’t sure what would have happened...he had pried you from the villain’s clutches himself and saved your life with basic first aid after you’d been heavily wounded.

You each dealt with nightmare’s differently, but the bottom line was that you were all there for each other when you needed to be. Even now, as Shouto sobbed into your shirt, you were there pressing kisses to his temple and rubbing a hand on his back, murmuring sweet nothings and words of comfort until he had regained some of his composure. When he finally calmed down enough to breathe evenly again, he pulled away from your embrace and kissed you once more on the lips; it was his way of both thanking you and reassuring you that he was okay.

You returned his sweet kiss before reaching behind you, your hand feeling around on the bed for something specific you knew would benefit your boyfriend more than it would you right now. Finally finding purchase in the soft material, you pulled Izuku’s hoodie over to the other side of the bed where Shouto was and set it in front of him. He gladly melted into it just as you had when Deku had given it to you. 

“Smells like Midoriya.” Todoroki sniffled and closed his eyes, one hand fisting your shared partner’s shirt and his other lacing his fingers between yours, palms warm and soft.

You let your mind drift as you both laid there together in a comfortable silence. Birds chirping outside and the sounds of people going about their everyday lives created a sort of morning ambiance while you absentmindedly started humming, the most recent catchy tune you had heard finding it’s way to your vocal chords as you serenaded the bedroom softly.

“Please don’t stop,” Todoroki pleaded with you. His eyes were still closed, his face finally soft and relaxed.

You only smiled and continued. About a half hour later, while you were in the middle of singing a sweet melody that Todoroki had personally asked for, you heard the sound of the front door opening and shoes behind kicked off hastily before heavy footsteps were trudging up the stairs to the bedroom. You stopped singing as Deku opened the door, Shouto grumbling out a complaint about you stopping before lifting his head up to see what the commotion was about.

“I’m back, and I brought breakfast and coffee!” He set a drink carrier down on the computer desk along with a couple small bags that smelled of something sweet before ripping off his sweaty shirt, tossing it on the floor without a care in the world. “Scoot over!” He gave only one single warning before he was diving into the bed with the two of you, worming his way in between you with a sly smile and snuggling up to your front side in all his sweaty glory.

“Oh, Izu, yuck-” You feigned disgust but laughed and pulled him close regardless, your nose undecided about whether the smell of his sweat was gross or appealing. There was something about when you caught the two boys post-workout before they showered; you weren’t sure why, but it made you feel certain ways.

“You know you love it! Come here, both of you!” He wrapped an arm around each of you and pulled you both to his chest, Todoroki smirking and cuddling into him while you tried to pull away playfully. But he was much stronger physically, and you only squirmed as he held you in place.

“Can you go back to singing now, Y/N?” Shouto asked, his voice much more upbeat now.

“Oh, you were singing? Can I make a request!?” Izuku interjected.

“Only if you let me go so I can get up and pee.” You sat up as he released his hold on you, a triumphant grin on your face as you swung your legs out of bed and made a dash to get up. “Ha! Breakfast is mine!”

“Oh no you don’t-” Curse Izuku’s quirk. There was a reason he was the number one hero in Japan; he outmatched you not just in physical capabilities, but speed as well. You let out a happy squeal as he reached over and grabbed you from behind, lifting you up slightly and tossing you in the middle of the bed between the two boys.

“I wasn’t done cuddling yet.” Todoroki snuggled into you, and you didn’t try to move this time as Izuku curled around you from behind.

“You two were so cute this morning, all cuddled up in bed. I wish I would have taken a picture; it was adorable. And then when I gave you my hoodie, Y/N, you latched on to my arm and wouldn’t let go...what a cutie.”

Your face flushed and grew hot, your heartbeat speeding up a little as Izuku squeezed you tight and pressed his lips against your neck.

“You still owe me half a song, Y/N.”

You ran a hand through Todoroki’s hair as you spoke, “Half your song, and then coffee and breakfast, or it’ll get cold.”

“I want a song too!”

You sighed, picking up where you left off and smiling to yourself. Even if breakfast got cold, you could reheat it. But moments like these? They only happened every so often, and you always made the most of them. Breakfast would just have to wait.

[tundrainafrica]

Masterlist

This will serve as a personal tracker of all of the fics I have ever written, all of the books and series I have consumed etc. I wrote this out to help me organize my thoughts since I have time now to reflect on this closet hobby of mine. I also put it up just in case anyone has ever read my stuff and is curious about how these works are doing in my head space.

Some were written back when I was way younger so apologies for the quality.

ALEX RIDER

Come Home (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Memories don't keep people grounded in their present. They're the reason people think of what ifs and would haves, regrets and daydreams. Alex sees three dimensions of his reality and makes a decision. Set after Never Say Die.

Status: Done (I guess?), not posted on tumblr or AO3 yet

Killing (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Spoilers for Never Say Die. Killing is like learning to ride a bike as Alex is going to figure out very soon. For Spyfest 2017.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not posted on tumblr or AO3 yet

Transparency (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Although the bank robbery made national news, the young boy who saved the lives of all the people in the bank didn't. First hand witness accounts said the boy was a hero, the media said there was no young hero in the bank and one journalist tries to get to the bottom of it all.

Status:WIP (could probably still finish it, it’s almost done anyway), not posted on tumblr or AO3 yet)

Type II Error (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Written for Spyfest Week 3. Set before Ark Angel. The updates on payroll accounts and budgets lined up too well with mysterious deaths and undisclosed missions. An auditor working for MI6 decides for herself whether or not the orders of her bosses Blunt and Jones were worth prying into.

Status: Done (Oneshot), will post on tumblr yet

Unforeseen Circumstances (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

It's April, the time of year when most students start salvaging their grades. Missions had taken their toll on Alex's grades and he needs to start salvaging soon or risk repeating the year. Nature wasn't on his side though and it turned out that his devil's luck had just run out.

Status: WIP (8/15), On hold, not posted on tumblr yet

ATTACK ON TITAN

Levi and Hange’s Relationship in Erwin’s POV (Status: Completed, not posted yet)

A Tale of Two Slaves (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)  

"Soulmates don’t exist. Fate doesn't exist. Everything is a choice. At that moment, Levi could only watch as she made the choice for him."

Levi remembers everything from their past life. Hange doesn't.

Status: WIP (6/?)

A Free Spot (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)  

Slight AU! Levi sacrifices himself in Chapter 132 instead of Hange and Hange deals with the consequences years later. Written for Levihan Angstober Week 4. Prompt: Free Spot 

Status: Done (Oneshot), not posted on FFN yet

Division of Labor (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)  

"The past years, we have noticed a lot of our fresh high school graduates knew nothing about responsibilities the that awaited them outside high school and even college. Many students do not master budgeting, taxes, household planning, loans and we hope to raise a generation who can navigate the adult world without the consequences of bad decisions they are bound to make going in blindly..."

Paradis High school starts a program incorporating adulting into their curriculum and Hange and Levi are paired together.

Status: WIP (1/?)

En Prise (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Hange already had the innate analysis skills and the quick wittedness to excel in the classroom. Chess should have come easy for her. As she processed her fifth loss to the man in front of her, she started to understand that there was more to the game than meets the eye.

College AU! Levi is a little too good at chess and Hange gets roped into studying the game further.

Status: WIP (1/18), will try to create a backlog before I post more.

Heroes or Victims (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Post Chapter 115, Hange reflects on emotions, relationships, war philosophies, and a future while taking care of a severely injured Levi.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not posted on FFN yet

Household Planning (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

"It was Levi's household. The plates were arranged and sorted by color and use, the way Levi liked it. The cabinets and the storage were arranged in a way which would be efficient for cooking, or at least the way Levi would have wanted to cook."

Levi gets sick and Hange is left to navigate household chores.

Status: Done (2/2)

Passion Project (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)    

Levi tries to ignore Hange but it never seems to last. A ficlet detailing the development of Levi and Hange's relationship before canon.

Status: WIP (1/3) Timeline written, Chapter 2 rough draft complete, not posted on FFN yet

Rough Day (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

It should have been apparent to Hange by the weight gain and the sudden lack of red days. Somehow, Levi noticed it first.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not posted on FFN yet, will probably write more fluff similar to this

Sugar Rush

(AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Marley brings the celebration of Halloween to Paradis. Hange and Levi go trick or treating with their child for the first time and start to realize how much the world has changed since the war.

A Halloween piece for the Levihan spookfest one year late.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not posted on FFN yet, will probably write more fluff similar to this

Would You Cry? (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Hange asks an innocent question and Levi finds himself reflecting on his emotions and his relationship with Hange. Written for LeviHan Week, Angstober 2020. Prompt: Silence/Screams

Status: Done (Oneshot)

Vulnerabilities (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Slight AU! Although Levi is humanity's strongest soldier in the battlefield, his rough childhood had left him weaker and more vulnerable to illness. Levi had always taken measures to prevent sickness nit anyone who has ever been close to him caught wind on it anyway. A series of oneshots throughout the story focusing on Levi's chronic weakness and others taking care of him.

Status: Sporadic updates depending on mood, not yet posted on ff and tumblr

Big Hero Six

Deal with the Devil  (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

When mourning becomes too much for him, Hiro finds himself resorting to prayers and deals to bring back the brother he lost. The devil may have had pity on him but he never promised to let Hiro go unscathed.

Status: WIP, on hold, probably could get back to it just need to rewatch the movie, not yet completely posted on AO3 and tumblr

Fatal Flaw  (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Grieving may be a long and painful process but in time most people do recover. For Hiro Hamada though something probably went wrong along the way because from what Aunt Cass could see, he was moving on yet at the same time, he wasn't.

Status: WIP, abandoned, completely forgot what I was planning, not yet posted on tumblr 

Coco

Dares, Pranks and Curses (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Written for the Coco Valentines Fanwork Exchange. The night of Dia de Los Muertos, Miguel ends up staying out late to play a little game with his friends in the cemetery. Hector, Imelda and Miguel reunite through a game of Ouija.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not yet posted on ff and tumblr

Somewhere between Life and Death (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Dia de los Muertos isn't the only day the dead can visit the living. Miguel is reunited with Hector, Imelda and his other relatives from the other side but in one of the worst ways possible and he finds himself caught in a struggle between life and death.

Status: WIP 9/20, on hold, timeline is complete just need to get it written, need to fix tumblr tags

Crossovers

Quest for Origin: Ranger’s Apprentice x Percy Jackson (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

A young boy gets washed up on the shore of Camp Half Blood with no memories whatsoever of his life before. How did he end up there? Is it all just a coincidence? Or is it a message from the Gods? What's with his uncanny skill with the bow?

Status: On Hold (25/35), timeline complete, will probably continue with PJO TV show comes out, not yet posted on ff and tumblr

Kingdom Hearts

Coded Connection  (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Post KH3. If Kairi keeps Sora's memory alive, he'll eventually call out to her right? Then it will be her turn to find him, hold him and never let go.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not yet posted on tumblr and ff

Kuroko no Basuke

Yellow, Red, Green, Blue and Purple  (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Collab with friend back in high school. All Kise wanted to do was complete one more level of Flow Free before practice starts. When you have teammates as lazy, eccentric, hyperactive, sociopathic or invisible as the Generation of Miracles though, sometimes the things that sound the simplest, can be the hardest to do. Crackfic

Status: Done (Oneshot), not yet posted on tumblr

Ranger’s Apprentice

Being a Ranger’s Wife  (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

As Will leaves on a suicide mission, Alyss ponders on her choice to have married him.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not yet posted on tumblr or AO3

Danger Zone (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Rangers are human. Humans make mistakes. The difference though between an ordinary human and a ranger is the consequences they'll eventually face for past mistakes. Will should have known that for rangers, this included being on the run from an angry group of pirates with his silver oakleaf on the line.

Status: Probably Abandoned, first fanfic I have ever written lmao, completely forgot where I was going with this, not yet posted on tumblr or ffn.

Farmer’s Apprentice  (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Will lied to Mr. Chubb about stealing from the kitchen years ago. How did that small decision change the course of the young boy's life? AU Crack fic.

Status: Done (Oneshot), not yet posted on tumblr or AO3

Masters, Apprentices and Sons (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Gilan accepts Morgarath's challenge in the Plains of Uthal and Halt is left to care for his apprentice in the aftermath of the battle. Halt wonders why it took him this long to realize that there was no fine line between an apprentice and a son.

Status: WIP. I have written out all the way until chapter 5 but I completely lost the files. I don’t know if my current frustration will allow me to continue this.

The Fall of a Hero  (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Will had fallen from his place as one of the top rangers in the corps and one of the top figures in Araluen and it's up to his friends to help pull him back up. Recovery Fic.

Status: WIP, timeline not written, could probably still continue this, just need to catch up to the series

Prince of Tennis

A Break from Ingenuity  (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

Timing is everything. Fuji gets his timing wrong, makes one misstep then finds himself facing a career ending injury. Maybe, that's when everyone will realize that he's human too.

Status: WIP. Will probs continue if new POT content comes out.

Yuri on Ice

Surprises  (AO3/Tumblr/FFN)

With all the stress piling up for the Japanese National Championship and more importantly, the World Championship, one can expect an athlete to get injured. To have the coach be the one struck by a career ending injury during practice is another story. That's exactly how Victor surprised the crowd though, maybe for the last time.

Status: WIP (3/?), not yet posted on tumblr

[helpinghanikan]

More then a Tool

Charles Xavier x (Daughter) Reader

Sum:  There will always be that something which breaks the camel’s back. Sometimes, this is more obvious then others. 

an: This was a request for A Charles Xavier with a child reader. I tried to keep with the request but my finger slipped and now the reader is mutated, an empath and it’s full of angst. I am not sorry. 

Your childhood memory could be whittled down to a series of chairs. Plastic chairs that stick to your bare legs in the summer. Metal seats that scrape and drag across the tile. Sometimes you’d get nice, soft chairs, or a couch to hang out on. Those typically turned into naps.

It was during one of these memories in a spinning chair that you started to feel. The secretary you’ve been plopped next took one glance and went back to her computer. Her annoyance was coming off from her like a horrible smell. Every click on the keyboard was like a gunshot right to your temple. Just made worse by watching her; click click click she’s banging into your head. Something had to be said…

“There’s magazines by the couch, why don’t you go read them?” She suddenly orders with a quick spin of her chair.

The verbal slap took you from the chair and onto the couch. Your feet hit the ground maybe twice, practically jumping onto the couch. This sending another hit of annoyance right to your head; eyes closing against it until the secretary looked away.

Those magazines did little to help with all the new feelings. Being further away from her helped with annoyance but now frustration was rearing its ugly head. Frustration and a lie bursting through your system with colors that’d make a sunset jealous. No amount of staring at articles and pictures of people way richer than you could get rid the emotions.

With both hands on either side of your head it was only a matter of seconds before Mama Moira appears kneeling in front of you. Snapping at the secretary to reschedule everything and that they are not done just yet.

“I’m sorry,” you had muttered in the car.

“It’s okay, they weren’t going to give me anything. Lawsuit threats will do that.” She says, a gentle hand rubbing your back.

“They’re threatening you?” You ask.

“It’s more like an,” she pauses to think how to best explain. Her hand pausing in it’s movements as she things. “it’s an aggressive suggestion. Nothing to worry about, Sweetie.”

“I think they were lying, though.” This idea was coming out of your mouth before you stop it. The soft hand of comfort has that power. “They’re lying about law suiting you.”

“You try calling that bluff with a lawyer next to you,” She says, pulling her hand away. “Oh, Sweetie, could you hear through the door? I’m so sorry.”

“No, I mean-I couldn’t hear. I just know they’re lying, mom.”

“How could know that?”

“I just do, okay.”

Moira was one of those rare mothers who wasn’t going to dig and dig for info you couldn’t give. Instead she focused on the road ahead of her, both physically and metaphorically. Mentally listing off all the people she could pay or guilt trip into watching you.

Whether you looked like her or not Moira was your mother, you just happened to be the question baby. Someone she loved more than anything but also an ironic reminder of her memory loss. In the interest of saving time she didn’t dwell on it too long, now just living with the new nickname of ‘Mama Moira.’

Moira never outright said what happened after following your advice. Only that your babysitter lasted for a single night, then you were back in a chair. This time sitting in the room just a few feet behind your mother. Staring at magazines while trying to feel something you didn’t really understand.

0-0-0

The closest Charles got to looking through a hospital window at his child was cerebro. The first was just to check up: How were you doing? Healthy? Happy? Back then you were just a baby staring at space. Sometimes into Moira’s face who would either coo or talk to you like a colleague. Asking for a baby’s opinion on whether there were any typos in her report.

He never really learned whether she did fix those typos. Over the years you became just another one of his children. A blue bundle of stars in cerebro that grew every time he searched for the others. Teachers and students came and became part of the school as your chairs were moved inside the meetings.

Once or twice he sat in on those meetings with you. Setting just on the edge of your mind without intruding on any secrets. Just enough to taste your empathy, and see your legs swinging while on sitting on those chairs. The unexpected consequence of his check ins came from the emotions connected to his brain.

A warmer, cool blue of pride that’s felt in your head without seeing who it was coming from. Typically, these stupid emotions came off strongest from the person closest to you. The closest was a woman whispering into another woman’s ear. She was like you, someone sitting just behind the action. Briefly mentioned as the translator, she wrote and spoke quietly.

Focusing solely on her and the blue faded in exchange for a mix of orange from fear and green from focus. Green was so overbearing only the slightest hint of anything else showed, and only when she was listening and writing. No hint of blue to be found.

Focusing on the others and the color could be found there sometimes. But those gave off a darker color blue then the cooler one. These were cocky, proud of themselves. They’d bleed into red when Mama Moira a certain thing, and then into fear. Sometimes into a silver lie, and those were the ones you had to remember. The rest you just had to try your best to not completely forget.

The cool blue color was easy to forget about over the years. It was just one of a rainbow of colors you were forced to learn about through your short life. From chair to chair they ranged and changed; little books filled with charts that became meaningless as more colors were added.

More chairs, more colors. One even being a helicopter, where you were supposed to be ease dropping on the emotions of your guide. Instead you were distracted by the many controls and buttons that somehow made sense to the woman behind the controls.

Although that woman was beaming a blue pride (probably from having a curious child audience) the cool blue wasn’t seen anywhere. By that point you had all but forgot about it. The curiosity only lasted as long as that first meeting had.

It was completely opposite on Charles’s end. It’s harder to forget someone when you actually know who they are. He was a father by nature; a figure to every student who has ever come into the school. They were just as much his children as you were. Seeing a bit of you, of your potential, in every one of them.

That bit hope lasted through finally being able to use his status to teach. It lasted through the adjustment to life in the chair and the care of students. It stretched into the draft when the first of the teachers began to meekly come into his office with sincere apologies. Men being called in and woman called home to help with the absents. He saw you in them too, less happily this time.

Hope began to starve after they were gone. When somewhere in the background Hank McCoy fiddles with a vial but doesn’t offer it just yet. When the school’s doors closed, and cerebro’s opened. Not searching for the children he has already lost, but the one he never forgot.

0-0-0

It’s hard to say what exactly broke the camel’s back. You’ve gotten used to keeping your sensitivity a secret. Mama Moira was open about there being others like you out there. She was open that they could be dangerous, and that you just weren’t ready yet.

Actually, it’s not that hard to find the trigger. Someone left out the wrong file and there it was: Charles Xavier’s school for gifted youngsters. Just a name and a few mentions of ‘mutant’ underlined. The poor, dumb, assistant who left it out ripping it from your hands before anything else could be read. Even with that little amount of information things started to bend.

They completely broke when Mama Moira went away. A mission where her little lie detector would be in too much danger. Instead letting one of the younger researchers play babysitter. A nice woman who saw nothing wrong with answering the questions of the curious office child. Not noticing that among the questions of what books you’re allowed there was another questions about files.

Maybe with the files you should have grabbed something about helicopters.

That nice pilot woman had become one of your favorite sitters. Letting you sit next to her during rides, showing the pedals and how to work the joystick.

The lift off was the hard part. This was the mantra working through your head over and over while trying to remember the steps. Hold the joystick, play with the peddles. Oh, snap, was it actually lifting off the ground?

Riding a helicopters as it leaves the ground is one thing. Leaving the ground, knowing that whether you fly, or crash was all up to you, was an entirely different feeling. One that turned your mantra to ‘oh no, oh no, oh no’.

“Lower the throttle, get back on the ground,” orange yellow of fear suddenly slapped the sense from you. It was coming from a voice that certainly wasn’t there a few seconds ago. “It’s okay, I’m a friend. Just go slow.”

Although he is in your peripheral vision it’s impressive that you didn’t whip around to look. Your own shock and his calmed voice making landing the only thing important. Although his voice is right next to your ear there is no change in the air at his presence. Half expecting a guiding hand to be placed on your shoulder while trying to land.

The helicopter is heavy when landing. Worse then when you lifted off the ground. An equally heavy thunk announced you’re landing safely. As safely as can be given the situation.

“Why would you try this?” The man asks.

Completely turning in the pilot’s chair you can finally look at the man. White male, average height. Long brown hair and serious scruff this side of a beard. Everything about him can be described down into a file. A file that Mama Moira has more then once left out in kid’s reach.

“Are you Professor Charles Xavier?” You ask.

“You’re not answering my question.”

“And you’re not answering mine,”

He takes a second to swallow. “Yes, I’m Charles Xavier.”

“Professor Charles-?”

“Just-I’m just Charles Xavier.” He corrects before you’re able to finish. Yellow of annoyance is mixing with the orange of fear. More yellow then orange is coming out. “Why would you try something like this? Why are you putting yourself in danger?”

Being scolded like this was keeping you in, yet another, chair.

“I’m different. Like you, like the others kinda different. She says I can’t talk about it to anyone.” Charles did not need to be a mind reader to know you were referring to Moira. “I don’t belong here; I belong with you guys.”

“Why a helicopter? Why not a car?” He asks.

“I don’t know how to drive.”

It’s like watching a computer boot up. He starts by pressing his lips together and then laughing softly. Putting his head down into his hands, his body shaking a little as he softly. If it weren’t for the blue you’ve only seen a handful of times you’d assume he was crying.

It takes a second to collect himself enough to speak again. “You can’t-you can’t fly a helicopter, either.” He sputters out, laughing back into his hands.

“It was flying, I was flying it.” You didn’t really know this man, not really. His emotions were familiar, and his face was in the file. But now he was just some guy laughing at you.

“Yes, you’re right. I’m sorry,” He says. Coughing away one last laugh. “I just can’t understand your thought process about leaving.”

At some point you were going to have to explain yourself to somebody. In the event that you were caught before take off you’d stay quiet until Mama Moira came back. If you had been injured by hitting the wrong button and crashed the helicopter, you’d play the part of the poor curious child. Now, if the plan had completely succeeded and you made it to the mansion? That was a plan you had yet to make. Probably try and wing it.

Now that you were expected to explain everything in a manner of seconds everything was coming up blank. You have already the gist out, but where were the details?

“I’ve seen what you’ve already done for your mother; how you’ve helped her and this entire base. You don’t need to leave.” He says when you don’t respond.

“I don’t belong here,” It’s a reiteration of your most important point.

He’s two different shades of blue listening to you. The first blue of pride that was slapped back into the forefront of your memory and a second one. The second was pale, almost clear, a kind of sadness that you wouldn’t be able to understand enough to describe until you’re older. This blue hurt to pay too much attention to, tears peaking at your eyes from being too close. It’s better to stay by the first blue.

This color was a representation of an A plus report card brought home after nights at the kitchen table. It was what made the slight curve in his mouth nearing towards a smile. It reflected back onto you, bringing a smile that Charles saw and made his own expression drop.

“You don’t belong at the school, either. There’s no one there, it’s closed.” He confesses.

“What?” You asked.

“Everything is gone. There’s no one in the mansion anymore, it’s abandoned. Everyone has left.” He says this as the pale blue of sadness takes over the pride.

Your plan to land and become part of the mansion took an odd turn after hearing this. Instead thinking about what might have happened if your plan had completed. Landing at the mansion just to find no one there. It would have been heartbreaking to find the mansion without anyone there. How long would you have stayed before giving up?

When you don’t say anything he walks forward, talking calmly. “Your mother is a good woman. The best thing for you is to stay here. There is nothing for you with me.”

“Why are you here then?” You say this as a demand instead of a plea. Standing up to stare him in the eyes.

The pale blue has officially overtaken the pride. Tears on both your eyes are enough to end the conversation. The man who has suddenly appeared behind you disappears just as quickly. Leaving you alone as the base finally notices that a children just tried to steal a helicopter.

[spiderwitchmcu]

Spider-Witch: Birthday Surprise

REQUESTED BY @superflashmanzzz

Peter Parker assumed that his 18th birthday would have been just like his previous ones; a cake, a card, a gift, and his loving aunt. So it was a little surprising for him when he received a call from Happy Hogan of all people to come down to the reconstructed Avengers Facility for an "important accouncement."

Though Peter had been hesitant to respond since he was still recovering from Tony Stark's death, he didn’t want to risk losing his new position as an Avenger. But never in a million years would he have guessed what the "important announcement" actually was.

Avengers: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PETER!

Peter: W-What? What is all of... Oh my god, w-what is this?

The main room of the Facility was completely crowded with all his fellow Avengers teammates clapping and cheering for him. Happy slowly managed to push himself through the crowd and walked over to Peter.

Happy: Just a little something your aunt organised. Happy birthday, kid.

Peter was at a complete loss of words: The Avengers, the Earth's Mightest Heroes, we’re throwing him a birthday party. Despite the fact he had been so distant from them (hell, he even fought half of them in 2016), all of them had come together to celebrate the birthday of their youngest member. And for the first time in months, Peter had the biggest, dorkiest grin on his face.

?????: Hello, Spider-Man.

Peter heard the voice from behind him and he recognised that Eastern-European accent straight away . He felt his heart begin pounding in his chest and he turned around to greet the owner of the voice.

Peter: H-Hey, Miss Maximoff!

Wanda: Please, there's no need to be so formal. Call me Wanda.

Peter: Okay... B-But only if you call me Peter.

Wanda: Fair enough. What do you think of the surprise?

Peter: It's... it's the best birthday party I've ever had.

And he wasn't lying. Before now, Peter had never been one to host parties and never had many friends to actually invite to one. But knowing that Wanda had shown up to celebrate his birthday with the Avengers was the best thing he could ever ask for.

Peter could still remember the day he first saw her, albeit on the opposite side of the airport fight in Germany. Even though Wanda had literally almost crushed him like a bug, Peter couldn’t help but notice just how beautiful she was.

Of course he never told this to Iron man, or else he probably would have been kicked out of the Avengers before he ever officially joined them. Nevertheless, Peter did not forget about Wanda and he often wondered what had happened to her afterwards.

It wasn't until seven years later (two years from his perspective) that he would meet her again. She was one of the people who got dusted by Thanos and was at Stark's funeral along with all the rest of the Avengers.

The two quickly began to bond over losing people that they loved and Peter had felt his heart break (again) when he found out about Pietro and Vision. The two of them sent the next few days comforting each other and became close friends.

Wanda: I'm very glad to hear that. We organised this on very short notice, so we weren't able to get many gifts.

Peter: Oh, don't worry. I've never really cared much about getting presents. For me, just having my friends and family with me is the best present I could ever ask for.

Wanda: Well, in that case, I want you to know that I got something for you.

Peter: Wait, y-you got me a present?!

Wanda: Of course.

Peter: Wanda... You really didn't have to do that...

Wanda: But I wanted to. It's the least I could do after everything you've done to help me out this year.

Peter: Well, okay then. So what is it? Where is it?

Wanda: Have a look at the table over there.

Peter immediately turned his head towards the massive table, but other than some utensils and party decorations there was no sign of anything that looked like a gift.

Peter: But there's noth-

But Peter was unable to finish his sentence and silently gasped as he suddenly felt a pair of hands on his shoulders and soft lips gently pecking him on the cheek.

Peter's face glowed redder than a traffic light, his entire body going stiff as a board and his brain having a complete shutdown. This must be some sort of dream. This wasn't really happening. There was no way the Scarlet Witch herself was... was...

The Avengers began clapping and cheering once again (Sam Wilson even did a dog whistle). Wanda then retracted her head, while a blushing Peter turned back to face her. She smiled sweetly at him and removed her hands from his shoulders.

Wanda: Happy birthday, Peter.

Peter's hand touched the spot on his cheek where Wanda's lips had been and slowly processed what had just happened: Peter had been kissed by Wanda Maximoff! The Scarlet Witch, the most beautiful and powerful of all the Avengers, had just kissed him on the cheek! He had only dreamed about what it would have been like, but now he had a pretty solid idea.

This was officially the best day of Peter's life!

Author's Note: I originally wrote a more fleshed out version of this, but I forgot to save and lost it all. I've tried my best to rewrite it, but it's just not the same as my first draft. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoyed this attempt at romance.

[lucielfics-blog]

no accident ( jihyun kim )

pairing: jihyun x reader

fandom: mystic messenger

word count: 940

note: I had a jihyun x reader fic that I was writing about a year ago and I forgot about it until around a month ago. This is a short fic I wrote based off of the original fic that was in my drafts. I do still kind of like the plot and I’m wondering if I should rewrite the whole fic? I think I might.

- - - - - - - - - >

It was no accident that I met him that day. It was a colder day, like you’d expect from the autumn season. Leaves were blowing gently whenever the slightest bit of wind picked up. Almost as if the leaves were playing a game with wind, a game of tag perhaps? I guess I’ll never really know. I don’t look at leaves the same way anymore. Come to think of it, I don’t look at anything the same way anymore.

 “I’d like to call it fate, I really would. I would like to say that the stars aligned ever so perfectly to allow our two souls to experience the other’s presence. I can’t say it was fate anymore, because if it was fate that brought us together, it was fate that tore us apart. I would like to trust the universe but I just don’t know anymore.”

 24th of August, the man I was to marry was seated underneath one of the decaying, honey-tinted orange trees. He had a camera with him and a big, black backpack next to him which I could only assume held photography equipment. I don’t know what compelled me to even notice him. Before I could think, the crunching sound of red and orange leaves below my feet as I walked slowly became louder in my ears as I moved farther from the chatter of a man and his younger sons. The boy under the tree looked up at me. Pale blue eyes clashed with my own and it was okay again.

 “The universe is a sensitive thing and he never made the best of choices. He wasn’t in a good place when you met him. The chance you even saw him still puzzles me. That boy had a world of his own and was quite the secret keeper. I understand why he lied to us, but it still hurts knowing if he said something then I could have helped him.”

 He showed me beauty in things that I’ve never even noticed before. He was a photographer, a well-liked one at that. The pictures he captured always came out the best they could be. It was almost as if the camera he held onto contained some type of magical powers. Maybe he himself was magical; the way his pale blue eyes seemed to sparkle when looking at something he truly loved was a picture I wish even his beloved camera could capture perfectly. Every second I spent with him I felt safe. I felt like as long as I could just look at his face and see him smile that I could take on the world and he’d be right there to defend me. I think that’s what I fell in love with first, the way he seemed to blossom in passion wherever he went to. He had a trail of flower petals and pixie dust behind him. Perhaps he was a fairy sent to watch over me. I’d believe it.

 “The past is the past I suppose. I wish I would’ve saw behind his façade sooner. His eyes only shined for you and the others, you know. To be honest, he never even told me about her. I never knew anything, not even the lie he told you. She never existed to me. He kept so many things from me but I could never be mad at him for it. He didn’t want to hurt me and part of me is thankful for that, but there’s always the other half of me wants to go back and save him.”

 They say that the eyes are windows to the soul; if that was the case, his soul was saturated beyond repair. If only I had noticed how they slowly started to dim sooner. A man that was once filled to the brim with all the good energy in the world was slowly fading and I never realized it. It was when he pushed me away that winter day that I noticed it. His eyes were paler than they normally were; a few shades of blue above white. Saturated. I recognized it as anger back then. I thought I saw the eyes of a man so upset with his fiance that he would just call it off; call them off. I was wrong, though. I know now that it was never violence that clouded his vision. It was fear. He was afraid someone was going to take me away from him. He was afraid that he was nothing but a danger to me.

 “Don’t be so humble, his eyes sparkled the most when he looked at you. But is it true? He never mentioned a past lover to you? I guess he wanted to protect you too. He always looked after everyone but never looked after himself and now look where he is. I just wish he was here with us. I’m sorry. If I was thinking right I could’ve done something, but with the heat of the situation I just couldn’t.”

 “You did everything you could to help. If things went differently, I would’ve lost both of you. If you weren’t quick enough you would’ve been gone too and I don’t know what I would’ve done then. Even if I did get out on my own, where would I go? I didn’t have contact with the others back then. I didn’t have anything but you and him. I don’t deserve to be standing here, or anywhere, alive today. I can breathe because you saved me.”

 “I wish we could all be together again.”

 “I do too.”

  It was no accident that I met him that day.

[mst3kproject]

811: Parts: the Clonus Horror

When The Island came out in 2005, the makers of Parts sued Dreamworks and reached a settlement for some millions of dollars. There are rumors that the film-makers were reluctant to actually bring the case, since they’d kind of hoped everybody forgot about this movie. If that’s true, they never had a chance. MSTies never forget.

Clonus is a high-security facility funded by Adidas, which raises clones so that their organs can be harvested for transplantation.  After a rigorous physical fitness program, successful clones are told it’s time to go to Disneyland or something, and are then frozen and packaged. One day, a clone named Richard is inspired by an empty can of Old Milwaukee to investigate the ugly truth behind his world, and manages to escape Clonus and reach a city, where he kinda wanders around lost until a old man finds him.  This guy is a retired journalist, who might be able to blow the lid off the whole Clonus project, as long as the company’s thugs don’t find them first.

My first thought on this movie is that I haven’t seen this much product placement since Mac and Me.

My second thought is that this is all extremely impractical. You’ve got this giant facility with hundreds of clones, all of whom need to be raised, educated, fed, exercised, clothed, cured when they’re sick, housed, entertained, etcetera… this would require hundreds more if not thousands of staff!  What’s the payoff?  Somebody gets a liver in forty years?  Right, but you’d have to have your clone made while you’re still fairly young if they’re going to be mature by the time you’re old and sick, and then what if you never need a liver?  That’s a whole clone gone to waste there.  What if you die in a car accident without ever using your clone?  Do they just throw it out?  What if your clone dies before you do?  Do you get your money back?  Peter Graves talks about immortality through unlimited spare parts, but that’s not how that works… what if you have a stroke?  You can’t replace your brain with a clone’s.

I have way more questions.  Why are Richard and Lina different from the others?  They’re ‘control’ clones, but what variables are the scientists controlling for?  The ‘normal’ clones don’t seem that much different, just more complacent.  If the clones aren’t supposed to know they’re being watched then why do the ‘guides’ talk into microphones right in front of them?  What do the clones think is going on when an airplane flies over?

How do they keep this all a secret from the outside world?  The staff must sign nondisclosure agreements and stuff, but do none of them ever have moral qualms and decide to talk?  Most of the people with clones seem to know they have clones.  They must have paid for it at some point.  Do none of them ever decide this is fucked-up and withdraw from the program?  What happens to their clone if they do?  Do they ever get the urge to meet their clone?  What if some narcissistic aging billionaire’s only child dies and they decide to adopt their clone as an heir… is that allowed?  If your relative needs a liver and you’d be a close match but need to keep yours, can you donate your clone’s?

I think I just wrote six movies more interesting than this one, because Parts: the Clonus Horror is really, really boring.  The first half of the movie is bland clones leading their bland lives in bland surroundings.  I’m aware that’s supposed to be the point: the clones themselves are encouraged to be kind of dim and dull so that their keepers don’t get attached to them, and their lives are not very dramatic because stress would harm them.  The Clonus facilities look like the world’s most boring wellness retreat because that’s exactly what they are.  Fair enough, but you don’t have to show that to us in a way that bores the audience.  Clonus doesn’t look like any fun, but it doesn’t look worth avoiding, either.  Nothing that happens makes us feel like we know Richard and Lina as people, and so it’s hard to care about what happens to them.

It also undercuts the movie’s point.  This is a film about human rights and how the rich and powerful are willing to violate them if it offers them some advantage. That’s an important thing to explore, but Parts does a terrible job because we don’t see the clones as people. They don’t have interests, or ideas, or relationships, they just wander around looking like they’re gonna bump into things.  Richard’s curiosity and Lina’s journaling should make us like them, but it’s all so poorly-presented that we don’t care.

Part of this does come from the desire to show how the clones have been raised, but at lot of it is also bad writing, because the characters who are not clones aren’t any better.  Peter Graves, his brother, and Hairy Son Rick chat about the morality of the whole thing but none of them have what one might describe as a personality.  When they talk about the situation and its moral implications, they do so in a very ham-fisted way that’s talking to the audience far more than it is each other.  We don’t care enough about them to be interested in their decisions, their opinions, or even their deaths.  All the time that should have been spent getting us interested in these characters was wasted on clones jogging.

Guess what that makes Richard?  Yep, sure enough, he’s a Main Character Who Doesn’t Do Anything!  He doesn’t save his friends, he doesn’t save his girlfriend… he doesn’t even save himself.  Even worse, during the second half of the movie, when the action should be happening, Richard is not even a part of it.  Having escaped from Clonus he doesn’t know where he is and has no idea what to do next.  He places his fate in his original’s hands, and lets others take over.  The result may be the end of Clonus, but it is also the end of Richard and what few things he ever held dear.

I think Richard’s storyline might be an attempt to say something about the ‘hero’s journey’ trope, in which the Callow Youth sets out into the big, scary world to take on forces far greater than himself.  It’s hard to imagine anyone callower than Richard, who has never really experienced anything, but that inexperience is his undoing.  The outside world is just too big and scary for him, and having reached it, he just wants to go home.  When he gets there, however, he finds that home is not a place of safety.  He has not yet learned enough to know that it’s actually the worst place he could go.

If any of you remember Conquest, I was pretty sure that was an intentional subversion of the ‘inexperienced young hero saves the world’ trope.  In Parts, it feels like an accident.  The writing is just too amateurish to be trying to suggest anything so subtle. Richard questions his experiences and Peter Graves and his brother argue about the ethics of cloning, with all the nuance of Anakin Skywalker complaining about sand – which may be a bad example because that was at least an attempt at a metaphor, in a story that was intentionally about the hero’s journey gone horribly wrong.  The closest Parts comes to a metaphor is to use the cloning project as a symbol of everything the rich get away with, and that would have been inherent in the premise anyway.

Since the clones themselves are mere pawns and almost all the other characters are villains, this leaves Parts as a movie without a hero.  Richard certainly never does anything remotely heroic, the politicians are corrupt assholes, and Hairy Rick doesn’t know enough, himself, to know that taking Richard home will result in disaster (though at least he tried to help).  The only characters who really do something heroes would do are the retired reporter and his wife.  They do the right thing all the way through, trying to help this injured man on their doorstep and make sure the world finds out about something terrible, and they’re killed for their trouble.

You know what?  I’m not done asking questions yet.  What happened after the end of the movie, when the Clonus project was exposed?  Paul notes in the Amazing Colossal Transplanted Sci-Fi Channel Episode Guide that since the villains of the movie are rich old white men, they probably got their way regardless, but what if they didn’t?  What happened to all those clones?  They have no skills or real education, and have never had to take care of their own needs.  If they’re going to get jobs and apartments and so forth it’ll be a real steep learning curve.

Are the clones aware of sex?  When the two of them are making out at the beginning they say things like “I’ve grown accustomed to you” and “I like you touching me,” which imply that they really have no idea what the logical conclusion is. Yet when Richard and Lina spend their night camping in the woods it’s implied that they went a little further than that.  I hate to praise The Island of all movies, but it at least dealt with some of this stuff!

What we’re left with in Parts: the Clonus Horror is another one of those annoying movies in which somebody had a really great idea and yet couldn’t be bothered to think it through properly before rushing to a final draft.  This is always a tragedy, because so many people put so much time, effort, and money into making a movie.  It’s a shame to see it wasted on something that is fundamentally unfinished.

[sailor-cresselia]

Here! Have some Ex-Aid notes!

So, I started rewatching the last three episodes of Ex-Aid because  @aquabluejay and I have gotten to talking about a whole lot of assorted Ex-Aid meta and ideas lately. One of the things we talked about last night was trying to figure out how some of the final battle went down. SO I DID THAT. And went on a WHOLE LOT of tangents!

Summaries, thoughts, speculation, and theorizing for episodes 43, 44, and 45 of Kamen Rider Ex-Aid under the cut. Also includes mentions of the Mighty Action X novel, and some of the backstory involved.

-

Episode 43

Oh SHIT the bars on Kuroto’s cell can, in fact, zap him if he tries to reach between them! He was very carefully not touching them when begging to be let out. More fuel for “Parad should NOT be in a good enough state to use his level 99 form after being tied up”!

SO! Seeing everyone who had been hit by the Gemdeus virus before writhing in agony! IS REALLY PAINFUL TO WATCH GUYS! The first person we see this happen to is Kiriya – because here’s the thing.

Bugsters aren’t immune to Gamedeus naturally. … Can… like, could one regular bugster somehow infect another one? Is it just Gamedeus being super OP? Or, like, could there be a mixed strain that fucks up both Bugsters that result from it? Because the only cases we saw where someone had multiple strains were with the Collabos Bugsters, and with Chronicle. So… could two Bugsters get… sort of tangled up in each other’s code?

OH NO THAT WOULD BE MESSED UP. SAMMI WHY WOULD YOU COME UP WITH THIS YOU MONSTER.

-

! I should go back through at some point – it might not just be Emu and Parad who insist on calling him Cronus – Taiga just referred to him that way, too.

(skipped back a bit – Kuroto used his father’s full name to refer to him.)

And now I want to know… if you scan a Bugster normally, would their strain show up on the screen – wait, yes! It would! Because they scanned GRAPHITE in his human form, back early on!

Yup, Emu calls him Cronus, too.

FUCK YOU KUROTO “they haven’t earned the right” as if you didn’t make an action replay of your own after Emu made his.

Oh… huh. When Taiga – back on his self-sacrificing bullshit again – mentions ‘if only I had stopped the Bugsters in their tracks five years ago, this would never have happened’… Poppy is wringing her hands. And Parad – it’s subtle, and very blink-and-you’ll-miss-it, but he looks down, away from everyone else. Just a slight turn of the head, and diverting his gaze, but. That’s guilt right there.

(You feel the weight of your sins crawling down your back)

-

Nico – in the Cronus game area – boots up her Chronicle Gashat, and is immediately hit with the pain and static. But she’s still standing. She’s been hit time and time again by the virus, by all the strains, including Gamedeus, and she doesn’t go down.

I still wonder how this fight would have played out if Taiga hadn’t stopped her before she could suit up. She’d have lost, definitely… but I kind of want to see how she would have played it.

She doesn’t drop to her knees until taiga takes her gashat.

-

Hiiro explains what he’s finally realized – that Taiga has been fighting so that nobody else has to lose anything. Because he doesn’t have anything left to lose – until Nico. NOW he has something he absolutely has to protect.

Hiiro: “But now, he’s realized… his fate of putting his life on the line to protect something he doesn’t want to lose.”

We see Parad’s reaction to this.

Parad (mid-ground, Hiiro out-of-focus in the foreground): “His life…”

(cut to close up, Parad looking slightly down) “on the line…”

I’ve actually got something related to this in my current draft for ch. 3 of Press Start to Continue. Here, have a look:

“You know...” Parad begins, idly wrapping one of the cords on his jacket around his finger, “I didn’t get it, before – why you went to the lengths you did back then, as Proto-Snipe. Even as you were realizing that it was probably killing you. I still don’t really get how you were able to keep going, really. But now? Having seen you dealing with everyone, with having actually met you?” He smirks, meeting Taiga’s gaze. “You aren’t nearly as much of an asshole as you make yourself out to be, are you?”

When Emu says he doesn’t want to lose anyone… Parad buries his face in his collar, while Poppy looks… not scared, but sad. I think… I think she’d already realized what she and Parad might have to do.

I think she had already come up with the way to cure the patients with Gamedeus’s strain.

…

Oh. She definitely had.

I’d forgotten, I wrote this bit months ago, back in Event Flag XX, but I was so laser focused on Parad for that watch through, I wasn’t paying nearly enough attention to Poppy.

“Taiga goes to help. Hiiro goes to help. Emu goes to help. Parad and Poppy can only watch.”

Parad’s beating himself up, because he can’t help, because he doesn’t know what to do. Poppy hasn’t had The Line yet, but… she knows what the two of them can do to end Chronicle.

-

Oooo. I need to have Taiga give Emu the same speech Emu just gave him at some point down the line in ReUnited. (Emu… is going to have some difficulty coping in the time span after my adaptation of Another Ending and Kiriya’s revival.)

Emu: “You shouldn’t neglect your own health. Doctors have to take care of so many patients lives, after all. You can’t forget that. To save our patients, we doctors have the responsibility to live on.” He holds out Taiga’s coat to him. “Taiga. You’re a doctor, aren’t you?”

(beat)

Taiga: “That’s right.”

The sound effects and framing that Rider usually has signify someone finally taking the hand held out to them, accepting partnership?

Is used here for Taiga taking his white coat.

-

When they get the final blow on Cronus, it’s really nice.

The fireball from Hiiro’s ‘Taddle Critical Finish’ hits at the same time as Emu’s ‘Hyper Critical Sparking’ kick. The lag from Emu’s attack, of course, doesn’t set in until a bit after he lands, and it knocks Cronus backward – right into the cannons of ‘Taiga’s Bang Bang Critical Fire’.

TAIGA’S finisher is the one to shut down the Game Area.

Ohhhh man, the way Cronus moves after being knocked down is super unsettling. He’s flat on his back, a-posing on the ground, and when he sits up… he’s sort of just dragging his upper body up. His arms are still limp. Ick.

(Also, I kind of think Emu and Nico will never, ever admit it, but they were super pissed that they forgot about Bosses usually going all One Winged Angel.)

-

The design of the bugster mooks kills about half of the drama of them taking over people, but… I’m not okay with seeing all of these people just… almost removed like this. What’s worse is that I think Kiriya could tell what was happening before he went down.

FUCK.

-

Episode 44

:chuckles: I’m in danger.

Parad goes to try to fight, to help save the people infected. But Poppy… she grips her hands together.

“Wait!”

“There’s something only us Bugsters can do.”

-

When we get to Genm…

“Stop it.” a blue-gloved hand grabs him.

“You’re one bad Rider, aren’t you?” a red boot glows, propelling the two into the air.

“I’ve come to collect a sample from you, Ex-Aid! Now, let’s start the experiment, shall we?”

(ahahaha Katsuragi’s hard-on for Gorillamond)

(wAIT SHIT NO)

“I have three lives left.”

“Wait, are you... not Ex-Aid?”

“No! I’m NOT! People NEED to stop saying that! I am a G-”

“Sorry! My mistake! Bye!”

(Thanks, Katsuragi.)

-

Emu’s exhausted, and realizes he has the Doctor Mighty X Gashat. Poppy stops him before he can trigger it, though. It’s not possible to do this one at a time.

OH. Parad meets them on the roof – Emu was following Poppy, but Parad was already there. “Hey. What are you going to do?”

Poppy didn’t tell Parad her plan.

The thing is… while she’s saying that she’ll insert the gashat into herself, to disperse the cure to all the patients… Poppy doesn’t use the word die. She says she’ll disappear. She says that bugsters are a threat to patient’s lives, that they will need to be completely erased some day. The screen shows both her and Parad at that line. He looks away, as she says that that’s their fate. She hasn’t looked at anyone.

Emu’s breaking down – he doesn’t want to accept a fate where she has to die.

She still doesn’t say she’s going to die.

… I don’t think Poppy thought of herself as truly alive. She’s always acted like she did, but now…

Now I’m not so certain that she wasn’t faking that sureness.

Parad hasn’t said a word since he asked what she was going to do, even when Emu collapses.

“Sorry, Emu. … Thank you.”

-

… huh. She only physically appears to Kuroto. And it looks like… like she knew what she was doing when she did that. That maybe… just maybe, Poppy thought she might be able to ‘back herself up’ in him.

But only maybe.

-

On the roof.

Emu… he’s sitting, almost defeated, talking to Parad about Poppy.

“Bugsters also exist to let us have fun and make us smile, don’t they...?”

EMU is saying this to PARAD. To the Bugster he practically created, however subconsciously. To the Bugster who is the most direct threat to his own, personal, health.

To the Bugster who KNOWS what Poppy just did. And what he, himself, is about to do.

Who knows exactly what that means to Emu.

Once you have the novel backstory, you can never really ‘un’ have it.

So. With Mighty Novel X in mind, and Emu having, at eight years old, considered and attempted suicide…

That’s something Poppy doesn’t know about. The only people who could are Emu… and Parad.

Parad, who is high-key tied to Emu’s memories. Who is about to do the same thing Poppy did.

Who is about to make Emu witness two people committing suicide in one afternoon.

That’s what they did, after all.

-

!!! OOOO!!!

When he’s snapped for the final time, when Cronus is standing in front of the Riders, saying that he will ‘realize his dreams for all to see’, his eyes glow with that tell-tale Bugster light – but differently than usual. One eye is green, the other is white.

Not unlike the green-and-grey tinged veins that appeared on both him and Graphite when they directly infected themselves with Gamedeus’s strain.

-

The roof.

Parad takes the Doctor Mighty X gashat, saying that Poppy fought to the end to save everyone. After he picks it up…

“I am you, and you are me. You know what I’m trying to say, don’t you?”

Parad can’t bring himself to say it – that they both know full well what just happened, and what’s going to happen next.

(Also, y’know, there’s almost no way they could say… well, that ‘he was going to have to kill himself’ on-air, not in so many words. Not in this season, at least, but that didn’t exactly stop them from getting closer in Build, now did it?)

That was just the Excite translation, though. I’m using the OZC-Live encodes, so I have the RTA translation too… so let’s see how they phrased it.

“I’m you, and you’re me. You know already what I’m going to say, right?”

OH NO.

Oh, and INTERESTING.

Excite has Emu’s next few lines in the singular. “I won’t waste Poppy’s sacrifice. I’ll put an end to Rider Chronicle.”

RTA has them as a plural. “We can’t let her sacrifice go to waste. Let’s end Rider Chronicle.”

Either way… Emu leaves the roof first, with Parad still standing, the wind blowing his hair, and a serious expression on his face.

-

Emu goes to face off against Cronus Gamedeus, and transforms with the Mighty Action X gashat.

Into Level One.

Taiga: “You’ll die challenging him at that level!”

Nah, he won’t. He’s just doing what Poppy taught him to do. First phase of the operation: separate the bugster from the patient.

Technically speaking, there’s a person inside there. They just have to defeat the Bugster Union, first.

Kuroto’s the one to catch on and actually explain.

-

okay, the Chibi fight is effectively done…

and looks like @aquabluejay was right, Parad does run in while using Perfect Knockout to grab the sword before it can hit Emu.

Yelling in pain, from the white gashat in his driver, as both he and Cronus-Gamedeus start to glow blue. The same blue as Poppy did.

The thing is, after the 5 Chibi Rider Kicks… when the smoke starts to clear, and everyone lands, detransformed.

When Gamedeus – now a manageable size – is being grappled by Para-DX… and then by Parad, as his transformation breaks, the both of them grunting in pain.

That is when Emu realizes. Parad had had his back to Emu before. But now Emu can see Parad’s driver. And the Doctor Mighty X gashat that’s in it.

Excite translation: “Come die quietly with your fellow Bugster, Gamedeus.”

RTA translation: “We’re both Bugsters, so let’s end this together, Gamedeus.”

Gamedeus dissolves, and Parad falls to his knees, gasping in pain.

Excite: “I hope I’ve made up for what I’ve done, even a little...”

RTA: “I hope this makes up for my deeds, somewhat...”

Emu: “Parad…”

Excite: “It was only for a short time, but I really had the time of my life gaming with you.”

RTA: “It may have been a short time, but playing games with you… it was the best fun I’ve ever had.”

-

Episode 45

After Emu tries to take on Cronus, who’s just knocked everyone else out of their transformations, bare-handed…

Well, he didn’t really stand a chance, did he?

“DoReMiFa Beat and Perfect Knockout both died noble deaths, although it was all for naught. They were both lives with no commercial value.”

“You… don’t you dare speak of Poppy and Parad’s lives...”

Oh… OH!

Okay, so. So I figure Emu’s not exactly baseline human by the time the show starts, let alone after what he did to make the Mighty Brothers XX and Maximum Mighty X gashats. But! Here’s the thing!

The only people who could move in pause were those with either the abilities of Cronus, Gamedeus, or Hyper Muteki.

Emu doesn’t have any of those in the Pause here.

But what he does have, however small it may currently be, and even though he doesn’t know it…

Is the remnants of data from a Bugster who had just pumped himself full of the Gamedeus vaccine.

Cronus is back to all green – he’s just Cronus now, not a hybrid of the two. But… well, the vaccine is made from the strain, after all. It stands to reason that enough of it could have a similar effect against Pause, however minor.

And Emu’s been building his own levels for 16 years, same as – ugh, fine, I’ll use his name this time.

Emu and Masamune have been infected for 16 years. That has to have had side effects other than the obvious ‘use the driver or bugvisor without the compatibility surgery.’

Effects like Emu’s Gashat creation abilities, and Masamune’s Reset.

And it’s only for a moment, but Emu is able to move.

He moves, his eyes flashing red, long enough to punch the bugvisor hard enough to break it – but he freezes back up once Cronus goes flying.

Punching far harder than he should be able to under normal circumstances, even. Those devices are made to take a beating.

He’s done something like this before – he essentially force-shoved Kuroto off of himself, one time, before he found out he was infected, with his eyes flashing red, and a visual effect not unlike the waves of ‘force’ that show up sometimes when attacks land in any Rider show.

It was never confirmed whether that was actually Parad at work, because he did show up right after, but… who’s to say it wasn’t Emu himself?

The punch here? Was hard enough to break the bugvisor, and to knock Cronus – who, mind you, is in full armor, while Emu is in street clothes and battered, back through the air for multiple yards, and into the clock he uses to freeze time, shattering it.

There is no way Emu is pure human.

-

HAHAHA and then I forgot to write anything else after this through the end of the episode. Whoops~!

Soooo.

This wound up being eight pages long.

I really did just start this to find out what the order of events was in the ‘Parad’s sacrifice’ sequence, but. Uh. It kind of got away from me.

Eight pages away.

… I don’t even know what I was doing here anymore, but I just wrote eight pages, and I’m feel like talking about how we don’t really know how Bugsters work.

Like, in the press conference, Emu refers to Bugsters as ‘mostly data’, but in Another Ending, Poppy refers to them as being viruses.

I have so much to fix when ReUnited gets to Another Ending you guys.

And! Are Kiriya and Kuroto wearing actual clothes, or are they doing something like Poppy and her costume changes? Honestly, either one has possibilities.

I… kind of want them to be wearing actual clothes. I figure that if Parad or Poppy were to take off something, and set it aside, it would eventually sort of… phase out of where they left it, and back onto them. But. Say one of the guys took off their jacket, because they do both wear them, shortly after being brought back, and it disappeared. But didn’t show back up.

(And THAT is why Kiriya got the black jacket. The one he died in is very, very gone.)

… I should stop now, I’ve probably rambled enough. Enough for eight. Freaking. Pages.

[pumpkactus-102]

Story of Tonight (Klaus X Reader)

HOLy cow! Am I actually posting something I wrote?! Wow! This was made as a little gift for @lilcutekittykat/ @kittykatwriteystuff. SO yeah!

Masterlist

Warnings: Mentions of drugs, alcohol, nightmares, death.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    You were used to the wild parties and constant drug use from your boyfriend, Klaus, but the one thing you couldn’t get past was him talking to himself like someone was always with him. When you asked him about it he would say some stupid line about it being a joke or something along the lines of ‘Voices in my head’. At night you would be sleeping in your room and hear screaming from the living room and when you went to see what happened you would just see Klaus opening another bottle of Jack and talking to himself. This was when you thought he had fully lost it.

It was one of those nights again, where Klaus was crashing at your house and sleeping on the couch. This time he came with a beaten and bruised face that scared you when you first saw him at the door. “Klaus?! What the fuck happened to you?!” You exclaim as you run over to him. “(YN), I’m fine just please stay here next to me.” He says sounding like he was on the verge of bliss and fear. This made you more confused than anything. “Are you high?. Never mind, come here.” You lead him to the couch and help him sit down. He grabs the bottom of your shirt as you were about to leave and get something to was his face and care for the wounds. You look down at him and see his eyes pleading and wide with fear. “Klaus.. You look like you saw a ghost. Lay down and I’ll get you some blankets. Alright?” You say. He nods and lays down on the couch. You bring out a couple of blankets and throw one over him and then wrap yourself in one before sitting on the chair next to the couch. You didn’t want to leave him there alone, especially since he looked like he’d have a heart attack at any moment. You sat there watching his shallow breaths and calm almost childlike face. After about an hour his face contorted with fear and he breathing changed pace. He sits up screaming and you run to him. “I’m right here Klaus. What happened? Are you alright?” You say carefully hugging him. “Why are they yelling at me?! I didn’t do anything to them!” He says shaking and yelling. You rub circles on his back and look at him. “Who’s yelling at you?” You ask quietly.

“The ghosts!”

“The ghosts?..” You look at him with utter confusion.

“Yes! I can see and speak to the dead and they’re yelling at me!”

You take his hands into yours and he looks at you with terror in his eyes. “Klaus, I want you to look at me and slowly explain what you mean.” He nods and takes a deep breath. “Can I get a drink to calm my nerves.” You nod and rise up from the floor. “The usual?” You say. He nods and you grab the bottle of whisky from the cabinet and hand it to him. You sit next to him and he explains everything to you.

After explaining it to you in a half drunk way Klaus yawns and lays back. “Why didn’t tell me any of this before?” You ask. “Well, I didn’t want to scare you off. The thought of being able to speak with the dead isn’t really appealing to people who are normal.” You laugh slightly and sigh. “How about you sleep in my room instead of the couch. I don’t want you to wake up with a broken neck.” You say offering a hand to help him up. “Sounds like you are procomposting me.” He says with a smirk as he takes your hand. “Sounds like you didn’t use the right word.” You laugh as you walk him to your room. He falls onto the bed and shivers. “Why is it so cold in here?” He asks. “So I can use the blankets. Why else?” You say hopping in next to him. He snuggles up to you and you smile. “Hey (YN).” “Yeah?” “I Love you and Ben says that you are very nice.” He says. “Tell Ben thanks.” You say. “I love you too.” You kiss his cheek and he tilts his head up to kiss your lips. “Get some sleep bud. I’ll make you eggs and waffles tomorrow morning when I get up.” You say as you turn off the lamp next to you. “Good night (YN). Good night Ben.” “Goodnight Klaus.” He holds you close to him and then you drift into a deep sleep next to the man you love to death. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~So I have been having trouble with saving drafts on here and writing here in general. Even now writing this portion in Tumblr it’s lagging to the point a snail can catch up with the speed of the words appearing after I type. So yeah that’s why I haven’t posted any original content here in a while. 

@king-of-newyork @gaypowersunite @blytheandherbrain @lilcutekittykat @bennie-badeend (Is it bad that I almost forgot my taglist?)

[theregoesthehurricane]

2

This is not how I start 2 in the first place, hahaha. Right now is 8:29 a.m. and I have to re-write 2 because the internet got cut and I forgot to save it to the draft. Well I guess, the previous one is not meant to be released in the first place. Though I wrote so many things there.

I don’t feel like telling the same as I was last night. So I’ll make the summary instead. Continuing from my previous write, long story short in late 2019 I met a guy, we started dating, then a year and a half later we agreed, nope I forcefully made him agree to end this relationship by saying

“I want to end this relationship, and I did not ask for your opinion nor your agreement”.

So basically I let him with no choice. I was writing about him last night, a full paragraph and a message. But 2 was never meant for him in the first place, so I decided to cut that story out.

It’s 11:05 a.m. and I lost my writings again. Goddamn me, I forgot to save them again. And now I forgot what I wrote.

Where do I begin?

Oh yeah, I remember I wrote: I drifted apart from our relationship. Everything about us was fine, but I don’t know how I actually feel about it. I just don’t picture us in the future, I don’t even picture my own future. Talking about future, the future itself is a mystery. No one knows what will happen for the next second(s), minute(s), hour(s), day(s), week(s), month(s), and even year(s). We can’t predict one and we can’t guarantee anything. In my opinion, future comes with possibilities, every choices you make will create its own story. If multiverse exist, there’s probably me in this world finishing the writings that I wrote last night and post the page. Well the present me doesn’t like the writings. We don’t know what other possibilities comes with the choice we took. Therefore, I hate giving out words I can’t even guarantee to happen, like promises, long term promises.

My guy asked me once about the future, that I predict at least will happen to me in 4 - 6 years, or probably just my expectation. I stunned. I didn’t know what to say to him, I replied him with possibilities. I don’t give out words, I give possibilities. I’d give him lots if he wants to hear it. But I know that is not something he wanted to hear. So I shut my mouth up after revealing 2 or probably 3.

I don’t picture us in the future, I don’t picture my love life in the future. I picture my family, I picture my career, but I don’t picture my partner. In order to picture that I need to fill the details, but I’m still not sure what kind of person I would like to be with, to spend the rest of my time with. So I left it empty, because I think I still have a long way to go until I could start to fill in the details.

Marriage

Is something that I’m afraid of. I’m too sensitive for this very topic. I hate to give out the details but it’s something I have to do. In order for me to write the next story, and to manage and track down my feelings. So where do I start?

Marriage is not just about being in love, saying vows and commitments, have children, grow old together. I see something huge in marriage. It comes with great responsibility, towards your partner, your future kids, to both families. And also it’s not the same for everyone, though at times they’re just the same but they come in different shapes. I’m not ready for one. I’m not sure will I ever be ready. What kind of life lesson do our parents have prepared for us, so they’re assure that we’re ready to commit in marriage.

I’m not ready for this commitment. But I’ve seen a couple, way long before they made their vows until God blessed them with a beautiful kid whom I loved  so much. I’ve seen too much, I’ve seen what marriage is through them, the process to be involved in one, and what followed them after the they vowed. I’ve seen too much that I think I didn’t take any lesson from their marriage. Hahaha, I don’t know why it scares me.

I can’t take any lesson from them, because as I said before, it’s not the same for everyone. Possibilities:

Mine could be better than theirs, or it could be worse. God hopefully not.

I concern about so many things, I can’t even see the brighter side anymore. It’s like I know the bright side will always be there, but what if I were made to face the unpleasant side of marriage, what do I do?

I’m not ready.

What makes people so sure that they want to get married? What makes them so sure they’re ready for it? How do you know you’re ready for one?

[futurewriter2000]

Go with me (Sirius Black x reader)

A/N:OH MY GOD! So I wrote like more than a half of this imagine and then my computer froze and bc I didn’t save it it deleted the whole draft. Great. But I guess, I’ll start over. This was requested by an anonymous and she/he made me very happy (she/he said I am an amazing person) and it just made my whole day. Also I didn’t know that the book would be so relatable, it was just the book I picked up from my shelf. Aaand enjoy. 

Warning:I translated the book so just so you know how to pronounce the letters (š is sh and č is ch - Dushan Chater) also gif not mine

xx

You were sitting in the library....and that’s it. You were just sitting there, doing absolutely nothing.’Maybe I shoud read?’ you thought and opened the book, which you were staring at for what felt like hours. You opened the first page and started reading.

‘Everything lost sense. Everything was lame. Even the birds, who were singing from the trees, which reached the 4th floor opposite of the standing block of flats, and how they stole his attention at least once or twice... Even they were lame. But that day he didn’t care about the birds. He didn’t care about the ice cream truck and the workers in white, who were dirving it. They were just lame. Even the always-funny Zelvak, who everybody called the bosnian immigrant, who lived on the first floor and who was always fixing his old Volkswagen, even he was lame. That day Zelvak was changing his car’s tires and instead of winter tires, he was putting on summer tires. “Lame.” thought Manc.’

You read the first excerpt.” Much like this book.” you sighed out, thinking how lame of you was to sit in the library, doing absolutely nothing and forcing yourself to read a book you haven’t read since you were 13 years old.”Ugh!” you groaned and tilted your head backwards, so that you were facing the ceiling.”Can a person be this bored?” you questioned yourself.

You closed your eyes and opened them again to see grey eyes smiling, not looking or staring, but smiling at you.”Well that all depends on you, love.” he smirked and sat next to you.

“Oh yeah. And how’s that?” you grinned leaning a bit closer.

“On you being around me, because there is no way in hell you would be bored around me?’’ he leaned even closer, his smile melting every part of your body. 

“ I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“Well how about you go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend and find out?” 

You chuckled and leaned back, throwing your feet on the table, blocking his perfect face. Of course you would want to go out with him. He is fucking Sirius Black. But you didn’t want him to think of you as an easy girl, so you decided to play a bit hard to get. “ And what makes you think I will say yes?” you opened the book again and pretend to read it.

He didn’t reply. Instead, he took your feet off the table and put it on his lap. He hugged your feet and leaned his head on his arms. There was silence and even though you were pretending to read the book you could see him staring at you. 

“What are you doing?” you asked him, not removing your eyes from the book.

“I am going to stare at you untill you say yes, because I won’t take a no for an answer. And I think it’s gonna be pretty soon since I know you are not actually reading.” 

“Yes I am.” you lied. 

He sat up sending you a mischivious smile. “Oh really?” He pulled his chair closer and looked at the cover of the book, lifting it up and brushing his warm hands against yours. You felt the heat rise up and you tried not to lose your cool as he looked up to you and grinned.”Go with me by Dušan Čater?" 

“Yes.” you conifrmed.

“What is it about then?" he asked leaning back on his chair, crossing his arms and not removing his eye contact with you.

Good thing you already read this book or you would die right now. “Its about a boy, who gets suspended and is afraid to tell his parents. He is some sort of part of domestic violance and he then goes on a trip with his best friend and two other members of the photo club. They get lost and it turns out, he only got suspended because he was trying to protect his little brother." you tried to explain the quicker version of it.

You looked up to see him staring into the book. His eyes were different. It was like all of a sudden they changed its color."Lighten up, won’t you." you teased, not knowing how relatable did he feel to the boy."Its just a book. Its not like this big tragedy. It talks about the meaning of friendship.” you handed him the book and put your finger on the first boy on the cover. “ Here. This is Manc, the main character in the book. He has an older brother and a younger brother, who are also named Manc. And guess what his dad’s name is. Manc.” you looked at Sirius, who sent you a smile. You moved your finger to the next boy, who was holding a camera. “Oto, his best friend. Lives right next door and loves photography. He is also always there for Manc. “ you looked at Sirius again whose smile grew a bit bigger after the last sentence you said. You than moved to the girl “ This is the smart and the pretty Mina. Very spoiled to be honest.” then you moved to the last chubbier boy. “ And this is the lazy and hungry boy named Špurč. He is kind of my favorite, reminds me of myself when I am hungry.” he chukled and you removed your hands from the book so that only he was holding it.” It really is an amazing book. Friendship. A bond built on trust and only broken by betrayal.” you talked and stopped as you realized you were babbling all this deep shit to a guy you barely knew.

"Wow." he said amazed by the sparkle in your eyes.

You felt your cheeks blush and you looked away for a moment, so he wouldn’t notice.”Yeah. Sorry about my obssession with books. It’s hard to stop, once you start." you smiled at him.

"No, no. You’re adorable when you talk about something you love. You get a real sparkle in your eye.” he said, leaning closer to you with his elbows on his knees.

You mimicked his position and leant closer." Sirius Black, the never ending flirt.And here I thought I was having a real conversation with you."

"You can’t stop the unstoppable, love." he grinned and leaned back on his chair, his hands behind his head and his elbows pointing out. He put his feet on the table and looked at the ceiling.”So are you going then?”he asked all of a sudden.

“Go where?” you asked confused.

He shot you a glance and then looked back at the ceiling. “To Hogsmeade?”

You were quiet still thinking if you should play hard to get or just give in. “We could go to the Shrieking Shack, Honeydukes...” he continued

Dammit, why were you so stubborn about this. He glanced at you again and looked back at the ceiling."Okay, whatever. I mean you are a buzzkill after all." he manipulated. 

"I am not a buzzkill!!" you denied his statement.

"It’s okay (y/n). You don’t have to be ashamed of it. Everybody knows at least one buzzkill in his life." he continued to tease.

You know he was playing you. You knew, but even if you did you were angry at hearing it. Someone saying you are not fun."I’ll show you buzzkill. Count me in because I will give you the time of your life." you blurted out without even thinking twice.

He grinned at you again and you just knew what would come out of his dirty mouth. “Oh I would love to-”

You quickly put your hand over his mouth."No." you sighed out. He mumbled something.”Shh. Don’t speak. I don’t need to hear it. I should have thought twice before saying those words."  you said disappointed in yourself.

He smiled under your hand and gently moved it away. He placed it on your knee, with his hands still on top of yours. Damn his touch, it makes you weak in the knees."What I was about to say is, I would love to borrow your book." he sneaked his way out.

He smirked at your reaction. You were shocked at first, angry  at how he loves to play with you and yet you were impressed of how he managed to pull himself out of it. And there were a lot more emotions, filling your body, that in the end you couldn’t help but to smile. 

“Okay so..Let’s try this again.” he said getting on one knee and taking your hands into his. “(Y/N)(Y/L/N), would you do me the honours-” he then stopped and took the book. He pointed to the title of it “And Go with me to Hogsmeade and like you said, show me the time of my life?” he winked at you.

“While Sirius Black, how can I say no to such a gentleman .” you chuckled and stood up. You took your bag and placed a kiss on his cheek. “See you then.” you said and took off. 

He put his hand on the spot, where you kissed him and looked on the desk. He saw the book you left him and just before you exited the library. “Pick you up at 6!” he yelled waving his book in the air. 

You quickly turned his head and yelled. “Make it 7!” 

“Mr. Black! “ yelled Madam Pince, angrly walking towards Sirius. 

Sirius’ eyes widened as he totally forgot he was in library. He quickly grabbed his bag and ran towards the exit. “Sorry Irma, I have to get ready for my date. No time for lectures!”