#side account because this felt too off topic

[theoldsports]

SHITHEAD.

Art Donaldson x Reader.

warnings: a lot of them. 18+, slapping, begging, major angst, brat!Art, an argument with make up sex. Art is really manipulative because… he is a bit and we all know it. [Y/N] is very ill-tempered too. it’s dirty.

can be a part ii to SPONTANEOUS, or read as a standalone. this is my favorite piece of writing i have published on this account.

The bed was empty beside [Y/N]. She stared at Art’s empty side of the bed. The soft green sheets and mix-matched pillowcases went unoccupied. Not because he wasn’t home, but because [Y/N] hated Art so he had to sleep downstairs on the couch.

It wasn’t that she really hated Art. She did hate him right now. Not in a funny way. Their drive home had been silent. Poor Art didn’t know how to facilitate conversation that wouldn’t worsen the situation. His sorrowful eyes, but honest eyes kept glancing from the road to where [Y/N] sat in the passenger seat. The real showdown had started between them something awful when the door to their house slammed shut.

See, Art cried when he got mad. Or sad. Or profoundly excited. Their wedding photos were two-thirds Art crying and trying not to show that he was crying.

Art hadn’t cried tonight yet. That pissed [Y/N] off. She was furious and he seemed to feel absolutely zero discernible feelings about that.

They argued all the time. It rarely lasted all too long.

It was different this time. When [Y/N] started to say something cruel or shout or weep, Art got a little smaller, but he alarmingly stood his ground. He averted his gaze and said “I respectfully disagree,” or “What the fuck do you know about how I feel?” in a dangerously level tone.

Fighting with Art about this wasn’t fun. He was too cool about. He knew he was right. [Y/N] wanted to yell and scream because Art was so relaxed and condescending in his tone. When the man who had spent his teenage years getting referred at competition after competition as literally Ice tonelessly said: “Jesus Christ, aren’t you bored yet? What, going to over-explain the same information to me again, or…?” Finally, that had made [Y/N] drag herself to bed and yank the door closed violently enough that she felt the metallic vibration run all the way up to her shoulder.

And she was still laying there, staring at Art’s side of the bed.

At the Zweig’s party that night, there were a few hot topics in the Donaldsons’ sphere:

1) Lots of congratulations from people that had known them grow up, but hadn’t seen them since the wedding or prior.

This was mostly very kind. It dragged that smirk up Art’s face and caused his fingers to dig tighter into [Y/N]’s waist. That look of pride and tenderness on his face was more than welcome.

2) Lots of questions about Patrick. His lack of attendance was felt.

Both Donaldsons dodged these question as much as they could. Art kept an eye on [Y/N]’s liquor consumption. He knew how embarrassed she would be if she said something she regretted in front of Patrick’s family. Patrick had hurt them both, but Art’s heart went out to [Y/N]. Her world had been built around Patrick’s from a young age. Art was trying to engineer his own world higher around her so she wouldn’t be able to see the old place and people that had burned her over the walls.

3) “You’re married. When are we going to be seeing a little Donaldson running around?”

With Art keeping an eye on [Y/N]’s drinking, she hadn’t really been keeping an eye on him. She just assumed he would keep his shit together. Art drinking in public was never really a concern. He wasn’t a big drinker anyway. At this point, his career mattered more and he was approaching his mid-twenties which made him feel surely less young than he had once. He wasn’t a casual beer guy either. It was Patrick who liked beer and Art who would have a moledo or something sometimes. Art did like white girl drinks, though. Tequila and fruity stuff. He had been able to shoot shot after shot of vodka like a pro in college at a season-end celebration.

Art was a tight-lipped man, but he was a giggly drunk who he got pretty comfortable talking out of his ass from behind a glass with an umbrella in it. Art was rarely comfortable with anything, so a drink or two at a party was welcome to him.

Another important point of context is that the largest point of tension between Art and [Y/N] was starting a family. They desperately wanted a child together, but they disagree on when. [Y/N] felt like she was fresh out of college, so she figured they had plenty of time. Art felt that he was fresh out of college, so he figured they may as well get to it.

Their arguments about this were once semi-regular. In the last four months or so, Art timidly bowed out and hoped [Y/N] would tell him when she was ready (sooner rather than later). He got tired of the low-tier shouting matches. Instead, he would pick fights about things that were decidedly lower stakes when he was bored.

Art had let [Y/N] field comments about family planning throughout the night. Unfortunately, when Art was polishing off a second drink, he ran his mouth a little bit.

Knowing he was the designated driver that night, Art did go easy. Art was also, like, five pounds. While he could hold his liquor with grace, he always got giggly. He watched with heavy eyelids as [Y/N] walked away to collect another drink following the dinner portion of the evening. The paper placecards with their shared last name emblazoned on them rested comfortably in Art’s inner jacket pocket to be kept as a memory.

Some guy who sold boat insurance and liked to rub elbows with talent was talking Art’s ear off. Art couldn’t remember his name, but [Y/N] would know it.

This was the precise moment that got Art in trouble.

Because when the guy whose name Art was sure started with an R said: “So! You’re married. When are we going to be seeing a little Donaldson running around?”

Art said:

“Any day now, I hope. Tomorrow. I’m good to go. [Y/N] thinks now’s not a great time for her.”

He had said it with a smirk and a stupid little laugh. It was basically locker room talk. Big deal. He would’ve said it to Patrick with [Y/N] present in the room. This guy wasn’t Patrick and he was technically speaking behind her back.

Art had forgotten how close they were standing to the bar. He had forgotten that the frequency of his pitchy tenor was known to carry. He had forgotten that he was well known to be an instigator of fights even though he never actually threw the first punch. He had forgotten that he hadn’t been whispering. He had forgotten that this guy… Richy? Ronnie? was pretty much a stranger who had no business knowing their business.

Now, Art was sleeping on the couch and his side of the bed was empty.

Jackass.

[Y/N] stared still at the empty bed and didn’t know how to articulate her upset to an Art who had seemingly yet to feel ashamed.

She had a headache and was tired. But sleep wasn’t going to come easy and all she had to look forward to was a hangover.

Art didn’t really snore, but he was a heavy breather when he slept. The lack of his white noise made the A/C blowing and the stairs creaking too loud. Maybe all of this was on [Y/N] for making Art uncomfortable, she dared to think.

Then she reminded herself that it was Art’s fault for talking too much and for drinking when he knew he was supposed to drive home.

[Y/N] rolled over to face away from Art’s spot. All she could think about is how his hands always sleepily pawed at her to pull her back when she got too far away from him before he fell asleep.

“So, what’d you do?” Patrick asked.

“She hates me.” Art replied. It was almost a question.

“I asked what you did, not what she feels. She already told us what she feels and it’s that she hates you.” Patrick stated. When Patrick had stopped through town for a match, he had come by for dinner with, well, his best friends. This had been right after they’d gotten engaged.

Art sniffled. He didn’t want to cry in front of Patrick. Art would sooner cry in front of his own father. Both men would have laughed in his face, but it would have stung more from Patrick. “We got into a fight yesterday. A big one. Like, the first, uh, big one. She’s worried about the f—“

“The future? Please,” Patrick said bitterly. He frowned and his jaw tightened, but he combatted it by tossing Art a smile before the other man noticed the tension. “Stupid. You’re gonna marry her. You’ll play tennis. She’ll do her… columns? Articles. I don’t get what it is that she does—“

“She writes for—“

“Sure, yeah. You’re gonna have two kids so you can each pick a favorite one. And she’s gonna be a pain in your ass forever. Don’t be a pussy.”

Art sniffled again and stared at the floor. “I didn’t mean to do anything wrong. I didn’t think I did,” Art said meekly. “I don’t get it. She gets so mad sometimes. At me.” Patrick stared at him blankly. Art had to know that he was usually at least a little bit the problem.

“Did she do the thing where she calls you a—“

“Shithead bastard?”

“Shithead bastard.” Both boys said at the same time. Art dragged his hands through his hair and looked up at Patrick. Both of them quirked a smirk at the other.

“See,” Patrick started. “You’ll be fine. Fuckin’ go after her.”

“And say what!”

“Uh… ‘I’m sorry?’ You do that kinda shit. She’ll like that.”

It was impossible to know how long [Y/N] laid there. The clock was on Art’s side and she would get spitting mad if she rolled back over.

She could just go downstairs and tell Art to come back to bed. He was probably sleeping just fine.

“Hey, hon, you don’t hate me, right?” Art’s voice whispered in the darkness.

[Y/N] was fairly certain she had imagined it. She had not heard his sweaty feet on the stairs or his fingers against the doorknob. Quickly, [Y/N] whipped over to face the door behind her.

There was Art. His sweatpants sat low on his hips and his shirt was long gone. Clothing didn’t often survive the night on Art’s back.

Really, she couldn’t help but wonder how long it had taken Art to work through coming upstairs so quietly. “Mm?” [Y/N] groaned in question.

Art rocked his right shoulder into the doorway to lean. His arms were crossed and his eyes straight ahead on her from what [Y/N] could tell in the glow of the hallway’s thermostat. “Please just tell me you don’t hate me and I’ll let you go back to sleep. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

With a sigh, [Y/N] sat up and rolled her cracking shoulders back. “I don’t hate you, Art.” Her heart melted a little bit. [Y/N] knew it was immature, but her special attack in arguments since childhood was to bandy around the word hate a lot. Not that she had said it to Art tonight, but she had no doubt said it before. More than once. More times than she could count, maybe.

She was surprised Art had never asked this before. That surprise hurt in an a way that was too complex to describe. “I could never hate you.” [Y/N] continued, voice hushed only because it was dark out.

Art’s posture relaxed slightly. “You promise you don’t?” Said Art’s evermore crippling lack of self-confidence.

“I promise.” [Y/N] replied calmly.

“Okay. Thank you.” Art said in a small voice.

“I love you, baby. I don’t hate you. You shouldn’t have to ask that. I’m sorry I made you feel like you even have to ask that.”

Art frowned sharply. “No, I’m the one that should be sorry. You told me nicely not to talk about—“

“Don’t play that. You have to know you don’t feel like you did anything wrong, so you don’t have to invent a situation where you’re some horrible person.”

Art was silent.

[Y/N] continued. “I’m pissed because you told Randy,” RANDY. His name was RANDY. That’s it. “Our business. My business, really. He’s an asshole. It’s fine. Well, not now, but eventually. But you kinda martyred yourself on it. You don’t have to do that and I don’t hate you. You know I don’t… Right?”

“I’m sorry.” Art said quickly. He was gifted at making every single minor problem his own fault. He knew he was a little bit of an awful person for that, but he would die before admitting it. Art would hide behind his martyring habit as long as his cross could hold him, though. [Y/N] hadn’t noticed before this moment, but she could see the shining of his eyes in the digital blue-green glow. Tears. This time, less than obvious waterworks. Aw.

“I’m sorry. I’m still pissed at you for running your mouth, but I’m sorry too.”

Art nodded, said nothing else and reached for the doorknob.

Here is a frustrating thing about Art.

He said he was going to leave for downstairs once [Y/N] said she didn’t hate him. He started to make good on that vow. If he says something, he’s going to do it, even though he doesn’t have to do it.

“Come on,” [Y/N] called louder than she’d been whispering. “Come here, pretty baby.”

Pretty Baby by Blondie had been their wedding song. She had been calling him that for almost as long as she had known him. Saying it, or hearing the song always made that stunning, small crooked smile stretch up beyond his sad puppy eyes all the way to his ears.

Art’s kryptonite was pretty baby. They both knew it.

He turned to look at her with a slight blush on his cheeks, almost visible in the dark. Art shifted one of his feet childishly over the other in apprehension.. “Don’t make me say it again. I don’t like to ask twice.” [Y/N] reminded him.

After a hasty nod, Art was in bed before he [Y/N] blinked. The blonde sat bolt upright beside [Y/N] with his eyes wide. Hesitant, but coyly so. He knew this pattern. The agony and shame from her brutality would only last so long. Housepets loved to cause trouble for treat.

Not to say that Art liked to start fights so he could play some low-status lapdog that got to feel his wife’s fingers comb through his hair the way he liked as a reward for an apology. The man bit his cheek to avoid a devious smirk. A part of him did like to do that sometimes, though.

He always got away with it. He was such a nice boy.

[Y/N] rolled her eyes and leaned back into the threadbare pillows. With a finger, she beckoned Art nearer. Hesitation eliminated, Art flopped slowly down beside [Y/N]; she on her back, he on his side, facing her. Delicately, Art’s fingers dragged down [Y/N]’s arm to curl in her fingers.

Not long after that, his plush mouth climbed down from her neck. Then shoulders and collarbones. Then bicep. Elbow. Forearm and wrist. Down her hand to her silver-studded ring finger. Each kiss with accompanied with an honest and dutiful I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. He was sorry. Genuinely. Sorry for the upset he brought his wife, but not the cause. Art’s beautiful duel-colored eyes glanced up at [Y/N]’s blown pupils through her own fingers.

“I didn’t mean to talk about you like that… I just… I love you so much that I want more of you. That’s all, honey,” Art laid his head on [Y/N]’s upper chest and his mouth moved against the front of her throat. “I’m just a little stupid, huh…”

Under his lips, Art could feel the rumble of a laugh rip through [Y/N]’s throat. Her fingers tangled themselves in his hair to hold him in place. “Do-don’t talk about yourself like that,” she mumbled and gave his hair a lovely tug with both hands. He whimpered. [Y/N] wanted to bottle that sound. Art would always remember what she said next and how she said it: “Only I get to talk about you like that… St-stupid.”

This was the version of [Y/N] he was going to remember when he thought of her every day for the rest of his life. That sentence, the way her hair hung from where he had pushed it away from her neck. The sting of the cold metal from her wedding ring on the back of his neck and the stone of her engagement ring pressing into where he reached his palm to place his hand over hers. There was just the wrong amount of clothes between them. Her eyes ringed smoky from the makeup smudges and the exhaustion.

“Say it again.” Art whispered, swinging a knee over [Y/N]’s thighs so he could stare down at her. His forehead pressed softly against [Y/N]’s.

[Y/N]’s mouth fell open slightly with a breathy exhalation. Holy shit. “What, pretty baby, you want me to tell you how stupid you are? You like that?” [Y/N] almost whispered into Art’s still lips. He was too shocked to kiss her back, but too turned on to pull away. Art whimpered louder than before. [Y/N] felt him nod.

So she didn’t hold back. “You think I need to punish you after you behaved like that today or something? You need to atone for what a moron you were, shithead?” [Y/N] kept her tone light enough to just about tease as her nose trailed along the side of his. Her objective was to belittle. Her nails slid down Art’s muscular, sturdy back.

They both knew Art was a masochist on his worst days. Did he get off on being degraded sometimes? Sure. But this series of events was ridiculously new and exciting for [Y/N]. And shockingly obviously for Art too.

His hips pressed into her pathetically. “What? Did you need help with something?” She asked innocently when she felt Art’s hard-on against her thigh. [Y/N] kissed him distractingly warmly for how she was treating him. Art’s head spun and he couldn’t seem to make sense of anything anymore. He had backed himself into the best kind of corner.

Across Art’s hips and side went [Y/N]’s left hand, to the front of his sweatpants. Humiliatingly, Art blinked tears out of his eyes and screwed them shut. His mouth opened and closed, but no intelligent sound came out. [Y/N] planted a kiss at the corner of his parted lips. His strong arms boxed [Y/N] protectively in from above, but she had him locked into place, really. “Baby, if you want something, you know you have to ask for it.”

“Nnh,” Art tried, eyes stuck shut. His attention was mostly spent hold himself up over his wife. His insanely gorgeous wife. [Y/N]’s other hand grabbed his jaw tenderly. He still didn’t look at her. Art was gathering his courage. “Yo-you already told me I couldn’t have what I wanted.”

With a sharp inhale, [Y/N] grip went from gentle to nonexistent. At the lack of contact, Art’s damp eyes crept open one at a time to see if his brattiness had overstepped the situation. His frightened eyes caught [Y/N]’s. She popped the side of his face sharply with an open palm. Art blinked and tipped his head to the side like a dog.

That was big trouble, huh?

“Fuck,” he said. Both of them panted in sync. “I’m sorry.” He meant it.

[Y/N] pulled Art’s face to hers and kissed him hard. “I love… you.” She said.

[tlou-reid]

as much as he’d hate to admit it, spencer kept a lot of secrets from the team.

some were minor, like how the cardigan jj gave him really was itchy, or how the new coffee machine in the office was significantly harder to clean than the old one, making each cup of coffee slightly more bacteria-filled than the less. other secrets were major, like the time his addiction had taken hold of him or the many social media accounts he had on the smart phone the team had recently found out about.

it’s true. he was on almost every platform, usually under some variation of user17376 and with no icon. but he was still there. he followed exactly one person, who also seemed to be his biggest secret.

you.

he wasn’t even sure if you knew of the vaguely-stalker-esque accounts he created just to keep tabs on you. he could only imagine how hard it would be to keep track of one user, without a name, located in your hundreds of thousands of followers. you might’ve hit one million after your newest single dropped, he hadn’t had time to check.

spencer felt bad stumbling out of your release party. he’d stuck to the back as you did your thank you speeches, excitedly dropping hints to your upcoming album. your relationship with spencer, if it could even be called that, was very private and he intended to keep it that way.

that’s why he was keeping you a secret. obviously. not because he hasn’t truly asked you to be his girlfriend. or because he was too shy to admit he even knew someone as famous as you. or because of his own insecurities telling him that he didn’t deserve you. no, of course not.

after your speeches and singing along to your brand new pop single that dropped at midnight, you did scooch your way to the back to talk to him. spencer’s arm still had goosebumps from where you held it as you laughed at his joke. he was a bit more bold now that he was three fruity drinks in. despite your fame and all of the attention you received, spencer felt comfortable in the hidden depths of your party.

his mind sort of shut off, just enjoying his time with you. every conversation topic was riveting, and he wished he could stay here with you forever.

and then his work phone rang in his pocket. spencer pretended like he didn’t see the small flash of disappointment when he answered it, saying a “hey, jj,” quietly into the speaker. you gave him a quick side hug, and then ran off, knowing he was about to leave.

and here he was, stumbling out of the party, listening to jj’s authoritative voice tell him that he needs to get to quantico asap, bring a go-bag, and meet the team on the jet so they could go over the case.

yikes. right to the jet. must be important.

as he hung up, he looked solemnly into the building your party was in. despite the empty feeling in his chest, he couldn’t help but smile at the pink lights pouring out of the windows.

and off he was to quantico.

the train ride there gave him a lot of time to ponder your interaction with him. sure, it felt like you maybe wanted to be his girlfriend when you were together. you held strong eye contact with him, weren’t afraid of small physical touches, gave him all of your attention, and stood close to him when engaged in conversations. all tell-tale behavioral signs of a crush.

but things never went deeper than surface level. it always seemed like he was catching up with a friend, not flirting with someone who he was interested in. even if he was definitely interested in you. he sighed, realizing that feeling had to stem from you, then. if you were into him, you’d also flirt with him.

so, no matter how many times you invited him to things, or he slept on your velvet couch after a game night with you and a few of your friends, that’s all he’d ever be to you. a friend.

spencer decides to turn his mind off (and his hidden smart phone), opting to bury his nose into a book. he brought a few, just in case.

he doesn’t turn his phone back on until the second night in the dingy motel. he really was trying to give himself space from you. you were infecting his mind, preventing him from thinking clearly and making decisions on the case. he thought one look at your social media might clear his head.

he opened your twitter, seeing only one new tweet. it was a video, captioned ‘been working on this one, hope you like it.’ the video played in the small media player as he inspected it. you were sat criss-cross, an acoustic guitar resting in your lap. your nails were pink, matching your newest single cover.

as he looked closer, he could see the glitter across your collar bones and your slightly-smeared makeup. this was filmed the night of your party. it must’ve been after it, given your disheveled appearance. he couldn’t help but marvel at how beautiful you looked.

finally, he opened the video, your beautiful voice filling the room. spencer closed his eyes, trying to listen to the words you were singing.

“i told myself, don't get attached, but in my mind, i play it back, spinning faster than the plane that took you.”

spencer gasped, realizing the similarities to his situation. oh my god oh my god oh my god.

“and this is when the feeling sinks in, i don’t wanna miss you like this. come back, be here. come back, here.”

this song was for him.

read about how popstar!reader and spencer met here <3

[katnisspeetaprim]

Always, Us (Suchwita)

Min Yoongi/FemIdol!Reader Requests open!

Warnings: Established relationship, discussion of pregnancy and marriage, idol!au

Word Count: 1506 M.list

‘Today on suchwita, we have someone people have wanted for a long while.’ Yoongi addressed the cameras as you stood at the side, excitedly waiting for your cue. Since Yoongi started his show, fans had wanted you to make an appearance, but there was never a good enough reason for you to appear until now. You don’t know if the reason fans wanted you here because they genuinely liked you, or if they just wanted to be nosey about your relationship now that it was public. Either way, you were happy to do this for Yoongi.

‘It’s Y/N of the group Prima.’ He stood from his seat and welcomed you with a bow, before pulling your chair out for you. You feigned shock as you sat down.

‘This is how you know cameras are around. He’s acting like a gentleman.’

‘YAH! Don’t say that!’ He snorted with a laugh as he sat down opposite you. ‘I’m always kind.’

‘Sure if you say so.’

‘I’m sure you noticed I got your favourite alcohol here. I’ll keep it for myself if you carry on.’ He smirked, gesturing to the various colourful bottles on the table.

‘You wanna play that game?’  You challenged, leaning forwards with a smirk to match his own. Yoongi relented, leaning back and waving his hands with a smile.

‘Ok, we’re getting off topic and we haven’t even started yet.’ You also relaxed, but you knew you had won that round.

‘As I was aying, this is your favourite. Let me pour you a glass.’ You held out your glass and thanked him as he poured.

‘People have been curious about us since we went public right?’ You asked, getting right into why you were there.

‘Yes.’ He agreed, drinking from his own glass. ‘How did it feel for you to finally be open after having to hide it for so long?’ Yoongi had given you a brief run down of the kind of questions that would be asked the night before, so that you could prepare, though you didn’t want to just write and memorise a script, especially when it came to your love life. You wanted your words to be as natural as possible.

‘It felt good to not have to sneak around. I know you were relieved too.’ Yoongi nodded in agreement.

‘It made me feel like we were a couple of horny teenagers sneaking out at night.’ He laughed.

‘Oh yeah you’re right! But looking back I don’t know why we hid it so long. People have been shipping us since we first met pretty much.’ You smiled warmly, thinking back to when you posted a picture of yourself and a young trainee Yoongi onto your groups twitter account. Yoongi wasn’t well know back then, but your fans were curious about your connection to the young trainee.

‘Do you remember how we met?’ Yoongi asked, smoothly moving the conversation along. You didn’t answer right away. You looked down as a subtle blush spread across your cheeks as you thought of the memory.

‘Why are you blushing? Don’t get shy now!’ Yoongi laughed as he called you out.

‘Shut up.’ You mumbled, all in good fun.

‘Ok. I was late for rehearsal and I ended up barging into your guys room by accident.’ You cringe at that part. ‘ You all stared at me and I was so embarrassed, but you also offended me that day!!’ Yoongi raised his eyebrows questioningly. Had he really?

‘Yes!’ You exclaimed, making him a little nervous. ‘You didn’t know who I was! Even though I debuted like 2 years before that!’ Yoongi sighed in relief and rolled his eyes.

‘I told you before! I didn’t know many current groups back then! I was too busy trying to debut myself.’

‘Yeah, sure.’ You crossed your arms with a pout.

‘Why are you pressed about that still? It was over a decade ago!’

‘That’s not the point! I’m your senior so you should respect me!’ Yoongi choked out and exasperated laugh, before he addressed the crew.

‘do you see what I deal with on a daily basis?’

‘You see! This is what I mean.’ You laughed whilst gesturing towards him. ‘No respect...’ Yoongi shook his head, laughing at the interaction.

‘You know, my mom keeps asking me when we’re going to give her grand kids.’ You froze and internally cursed him for bringing up this topic. It’s not like you don’t want babies with him, it just never felt like the right time to try. Especially now with his military service coming up...

‘I always thought we’d try after your enlistment, but we never really discussed it....’ You confessed, feeling the energy of the room die slightly. You saw Yoongi’s eyes widen ever so slightly at your answer, but he covered it up by rubbing his face.

You weren’t lying when you said it hadn’t been talked about, so your answer definitely caught him off guard.

‘We also need to find time for a wedding.’ He played it off cooly, trying to move on with a joke. You frowned to yourself. His reaction was strange. This definitely needed more investigating.

The remainder of filming flew by. You’d managed to avoid any more awkwardness after that and put on a good show. You were fairly certain that part would be cut anyway. It may have been a little too personal to bring it up in that way in hindsight....

‘So, do you want to talk about what you said?’ Both you and Yoongi were sat in his car in the parking lot. You could get a lift from the company driver, but Yoongi proffered the freedom of being able to drive himself. ‘About having kids?’ He looked over to you with an expression you couldn’t quite read. Looking down at your hands in your lap, you began to speak.

‘I meant what I said. I want kids with you, but I ... also don’t want to give up my career...’ You trailed off. He sucked in a breath at your words, but stayed silent. ‘I just said that about your enlistment because I didn’t know what else to say.’ You sniffled slightly, but you were determined to not get upset. Yoongi placed a comforting hand on your thigh and leaned across the console.

‘Hey. You won’t loose your career. You really think Bang PD would let you go after all these years?’ He spoke soothingly. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t stop a few tears escaping your eyes.

‘I know it’s stupid to think this way but-‘ Yoongi quickly shook his head.

‘Don’t talk like that. If you’re upset it’s not stupid, ok?’ He had now moved his hand to the back of your neck, rubbing calming circles into your skin. You slowly looked up at him to see him giving you a reassuring smile. You were unable to stop yourself from reaching up and pulling him into a hug, or as much as you could manage with the gear box between you.

‘I’m sorry I got upset.’ You mumbled into his neck. He craned his neck to place a kiss on the side of your head.

‘Nothing to be sorry for.’ You both stayed like that for a few relaxing moment as you calmed down. Pulling back, you wiped at your eyes before quickly pecking his lips.

‘We need to talk properly at some point, but right now I need you to take me home so I can stuff my face with ice cream.’ Yoongi broke out into his iconic gummy smile as he stared at you.

‘You must be feeling better if you can crack jokes. Now put your seatbelt on woman.’ Yoongi pulled out of the parking lot and started the journey home. You both sat in comfortable silence, only the sounds of the quiet radio played in the car. You thought back to the filming, when you suddenly remembered something he so casually said during the interview.

‘So...’ He glanced at you briefly, before looking back to the road. ‘What was that about a wedding?’  You smirked when he choked on his own spit and clearing his throat.

‘Ah yeah. That...’

‘You haven’t even proposed to me.’ You teased, hoping he might get a hint. Yoongi fully looked at you when he pulled up to a traffic light, smile tugging at his lips.

‘Do you want me to?’

‘I certainly wouldn’t be oppose to the idea!’ You both sent coy smiles to each other and that was that. Conversation over.’ The two of you didn’t need to get married to know you loved each other, but having said that...

And thus, a few weeks later, Korea woke to the news that you and Yoongi had secretly eloped and made your marriage official.

You had a lot of explaining to do to your parents, but you got out of it by promising that you would have a ‘proper’ ceremony at a later date. For now though, you were both content with how things were.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Man 10

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Gah. You hate the taste. It doesn’t get any better and it feels worse on your skin. There’s something unnatural about human biology. Should that be so slimy?  

You’re not a prude, not mentally, only experientially. The act itself, yeah, it’s kind of hot, but the finale. That’s too much. Not to mention, it wasn’t exactly mutual. None of this is. 

It’s weird, actually. The more you think of it, sat naked under a desk, in the mess of his excitement, you can’t help but analyse the situation you find yourself in. This man articulated a strategic destruction of your life; he messed with your rent, your bank, your job, and now you’re sitting her in his house, perched on your heels like an orphan begging for more gruel. 

You frown as you rub your chin again. Despite the single tissue he offered, you still felt the residue clinging to your skin. You need a shower. Or maybe some clothes. That would be nice. You scrunch up your nose and sneer. 

“What the hell is that face for?” Floyd—Lloyd snips and you look up to meet his gaze through the glass top of the desk, his keyboard blocking out all but one of his blue eyes. Hey, he has nice eyes for a meanie. You’d never tell him because he’s not a very good listener. 

“Nothing, I just...” you shrug and his eye flicks down to the jiggle of your chest. You cross your arms and tilt your head to the side, “can I go wash off or something?” 

“Why?” He challenges. 

Your lips part and a puff of air shoots out. Is he serious? 

“I... I’m not saying it’s your fault or anything but semen smells and I smell like semen, so going by a very basic formula--” 

“Oh my god, you don’t stop. Why can’t you just say anything straight out? Why’s it this nonsense?” He growls. 

“Fair enough, but I’m still hoping to see a sink or maybe a washcloth--” 

He rolls his eyes and closes them. He sits back and puts his hands to either side of his nose and exhales heavily. He clucks as he drops his arms and considers you as he leans against the leather cushioning. 

“You don’t make the rules. Stay.” 

He rolls back up to the desk and starts typing again. You look at the bottom of the sleek keyboard. He’s definitely an Apple guy, the iMac isn’t even the biggest giveaway. He just has that essence to him. He’s one of those guys who claims to be all about the best of everything but really he’s just buying into capitalism. He’s basic; mainstream. 

What is he even doing? Typing, clicking, scowling at the screen. Is he working? What on earth does he even do? Well, if you account for the mustache, the tacky clothes, and shoes without socks, you might assume he’s some sort of salesman. Used cars if you were to go by looks alone and yet his house would suggest more than that.  

He doesn’t look like a lawyer. He could be a tech bro, again, Apple everything. Still, the way he types doesn’t really seem savvy. He’s got the whole chicken peck down pat, jabbing each key with his index finger. So you’re at a loss. What the hell do rich people do? How do they even get rich? 

“Would you stop staring at me like that?” He stops again, another glare through the glass. 

You swallow and shake your head, shifting on your knees as you keep your arms across your chest. 

“Sir, Mr. Jansen--” 

“Hansen,” he grits dangerously. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hansen, sir, please, it’s cold in here, can I get a sweater or maybe you could turn off the air? This time of day, the rate must be ridiculous.” 

His lashes flutter and his forehead lines. His hand closes to a fist then opens. His chest rises and he squares his jaw. 

“You’re distracting me. I’m trying to work.” 

“So maybe I could go somewhere else. It’s a big house--” 

“My house,” he insists. 

“A very nice house,” you offer, “I mean I’m sitting down here, my knees are killing me, I’m shivering, I can’t sit still. You’re not gonna get anything done. I’m agreeing with you. One hundred percent. I’m annoying. A real nuisance so let the leash go a little bit. Promise, I won’t touch a thing--” 

He squints then his eyes flick up as he thinks. His lips thin and he huffs. He brings his fingertips together, elbows planted on the glass desk, and taps them as he hums. 

“You’re lucky you can make me cum,” he grumbles. 

“Ah, but sir, don’t give me all the credit. You’re a very good cummer. An expert, it seems.” 

His nose crinkles and his mouth falls open, for just a second. His cheek dimples and he shakes it away, “what on earth are you fucking on about?” 

“I’m just saying, sir, I don’t know much about the old sausage link but I’m comparing it to the hub--” 

“The hub?” 

“PornHub, I’m sure you know it.” 

He lets out cluck but says nothing else. 

“Anyway, you got what they would call girth,” you gesture with your hands. “Good job, although, maybe it’s more a genetic type thing. Not really something you did...” 

He stares at you for a moment the pushes his knees wide. He takes a breath and slides slightly forward in his chair. You are keenly aware of the twitch beneath his pants. Please, not again. Are their calories in cum? 

“You watch a lot of porn?” He asks, a genuine hint of interest in his voice. The furthest from spite you’ve heard from him. 

“Eh, not as much as some people, I'm sure. I get curious,” you say. “but within discretion. Never wanna go too far down the rabbit hole.” 

He taps his toe and gives a thoughtful angle of his chin, twining his fingers between each other, “what kinds?” 

“Mm, well, I dunno. Usually, I just click something on the front page that doesn’t look too wild. Like creampie is pretty standard, I guess. Doggystyle is usually all over, but the stepdaughter stuff, ick. Not for me, sir. No way.” 

He makes a clicking noise in his throat and slowly reclines in his chair, “you are way too honest for your own good.” 

“Maybe, I guess. In this situation though, what do I get from lying? Besides, I see the stache,” you shoot him with a fingergun then quickly holster it. “You definitely are trawling around. RedTube? Xvideos?” 

“You said you’re curious,” he ignores your question, “you don’t... do anything while you watch?” 

You feel a subtle tickle in your thighs. The casual air turns thick. You’re starting to get worked up. 

“Eh, well, you know... the fingers find a way,” you look away and giggle nervously. “I go on these women’s forums. They say you should know yourself best before you try with a partner. Obviously, I haven’t found my number two yet but I know my way around my captain's chair. I can get to warp speed.” 

His lips curve slowly as you look back to him and you gulp. You’ve said too much. Again. The very reason you fell head first into this predicament. 

“Sir, why are you looking at me like that?” You squeak. 

He chuckles and brushes his fingertips over his bristly mustache, “well, sweet lips, show me the way.” 

“Huh?” Your eyes round. 

“Show me around your captain's chair, as you so eloquently put it,” he demands and wiggles two fingers at you. 

[sunkissedbedard]

wait ok i need you to write something trevor zegras based on a taylor song from rep, i saw u said it’s ur fave album so maybe call it what you want or king of my heart but honestly any song at all 🫣

a/n: anything for you 🥰 call it what you want is my all time favourite & the song that welcomed me to become a swiftie so it holds a special place in my heart 🥹 i hope you like it 🫶🏻✨

warnings: none except an overwhelming amount of fluff!

tags: trevor zegras x reader

word count: 0.8k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"god, it's like i can't even go online anymore with another one of those bot accounts making some stupid, half-assed comment about us." you said through a laugh to the boy next to you on the couch. trevor had finally had a day off from his busy hockey schedule with the ducks, so the two of you had decided what better way to spend the time together, than at home in the comfort of each other while you spent countless hours cuddling and watching movies.

trevor had immersed himself in a round of video games with a few of his other teammates while you had gone to do a load of laundry, as an intermission to your movie session. when you returned, you contently watched on the couch as he continued focusing intently on the screen before him.

"oh, c'mon, you know it's bullshit, y/n. they just say those things out of spite and because there's jealous." he responded, eyes still glued to his game. your mouth downturned into a frown at his lack of awareness towards something that has previously upset you. trevor knew that it was a sensitive topic for you, the comments of outsiders would always linger and keep you up at night, regardless of if you looked at them or not. even if you chose to ignore it, you knew they were still there.

"yeah, i know. but that's such a cliche; some of those things hit deep, whether they're saying it out of spite," you responded with a hint of mockery laced in your voice, nudging his hip with your foot to get his attention, to which you received no response, making you even more frustrated with the boy.

"y/n," he sighed, "you know, no matter what they say, that doesn't change how i feel about you." he promised, stopping his game and turning to face you. as he saw your saddened state as your shoulders shrugged down, his eyes slightly widened before he rushed to your side and pulled you into him so you were now laying on his chest. you inhaled his familiar scent that had seeped into the fabric of his soft hoodie you gifted him, and you felt yourself relax into him, as he pulled you into a tighter hug.

"it just gets to be too much sometimes, y'know?" you mumbled into his chest before lifting your head to meet his softened gaze. he reached forward to cup your cheek, meeting your lips with a soft and wet kiss, your lips detaching like velcro from wanting more from each other.

"i know, y/n. but i want you to know that there is nothing in this world that could change the way i feel about you. you are the best thing to ever happen to me, and i will forever be grateful that we bumped into each other that one day, or else we wouldn't be here." he paused to give you a soft smile, "i don't know what i would do without you, and letting people online get in your head to convince you otherwise? it's not worth your time, my love." he said looking into your eyes as every word fell of his tongue with such meaning, you could feel your heart warming and you broke out in a smile in response.

"i love you, trev, i don't know what i'd do without you either, you're an angel sent from above. you've made my world such a better place now that you're in it, and even though it's discouraging, being with you like this," you motion to your proximity, "it makes me feel like they fade to nothing when i look at you."

you lips reconnect with his, with more intimacy and passion this time, as you readjust yourself to be sitting, pressed against each other to feel each other's warmth.

you part, resting your foreheads against each other and laugh at the silence, "honestly, i'd wear your initial on a chain around my neck if i could," you spoke randomly, earning a raised eyebrow from trevor as he then furrowed his brows in confusion.

"you would? i mean- that seems a little possessive, don't you?" he asked, rubbing his hand up and down the side of your arm.

"no, well- i wouldn't wear it in a way that says you own me, more so, because you really know me." you stated with a shrug.

the pair of you look at each other in silence, each of you confused at what you had just said, before bursting into laughter as he lunged towards you, carefully tackling you back onto the couch so you laid under him as he attacked your face with wet kisses.

he pulled away from you, looking down with shortness of breath from his surge of energy, "you're crazy, you know that?" he asked.

"what are you talking about, you love crazy." you responded, which only ended up with you laughing endlessly from the kisses he placed all over your face and neck.

[elliemarchetti]

Eris Week Day 6: AU/Retellings

Inspired by one of @foxcort’s unhinged prompts because I couldn’t resist although I’m not totally out of my writing/Tumblr hiatus yet. Hope my contribution to @erisweekofficial will still be appreciated even if it’s in Cassian’s POV.

Disclaimer: I know some of you will see this more as Cassian's self-pitying account of an event that highlights his inadequacy as a mate, but in my eyes it's an excerpt of the happy life that awaits Eris and Nesta once her contacts with the Night Court will be reduced to a minimum, only from the point of view of someone who will remain in the past. Still, and for this I turn to the admins of Eris Week, if you find it inadequate for any reason you have every right not to reblog it and I won't bear you any grudge. You guys are amazing, and when my life will be a little more normal I can't wait to read everything that's been written and show some love to all the wonderful fanarts I'm sure the artists have made.

Plot: The Lord of Bloodshed is having the worst time of his life. The heir of Autumn can’t really say the same. This is the famous scene at the Court of Nightmares reimagined with a totally different plot for the whole last book so if it doesn’t really make sense, I’m sorry.

Rating: Explicit

Words: 1529

When the next song began, its notes lighter, the steps easier than the ones they had just engaged in, Nesta didn’t hesitate to take Eris’s hand. She seemed eager, like her partner wasn’t the monster they all told her about but just a good dancer who instinctively knew her body screamed to do those extra, solo turns that had catalysed the attention of the whole room. Cassian realized he wouldn’t have let her go, too worried about the impractical design of her dress, too apprehensive she was drunk on the music and not paying enough attention to her surroundings to succeed.  If he had been in Eris’s place, he would’ve scolded her by the end of the music, dragging her off the dancefloor, while the heir of Autumn studied her with his amber eyes as they chatted amiably, chuckles audible here and there. The General couldn’t hear everything they said, but as they got closer he caught a few scraps, words that made the blood in his veins boil.

“… I didn’t see this side of you…”

He wasn’t smiling, but she met his stare anyway as she responded, suave and flirty. She never spoke to Cassian in that tone, always composed, almost defensive, in the rare occasions their topic hadn’t revolved around training or the thousand obligations they were subjected to due to their roles. Maybe it was because he had never spun her, never murmured sweet nothings in her ear, sentences so refined her mouth twitched to one side. Unable to witness more, he turned to Mor, who watched from beside Feyre and Rhys, her face neutral and aloof. He couldn’t imagine how she was feeling, knowing she was the one who taught Nesta those steps.

“Are you inquiring after my eligibility?” Cassian heard Eris joke, his sharp smile turning into a full-on silky laugh at her reply. As it often happened, he felt inadequate in his vulgarity, in his lack of grace. A brute, as the eldest of the Vanserras liked to define him. There was no room for someone like him by the side of a female capable of carrying a political meeting on her inexperienced shoulders and tear someone’s head from their neck in the same week. That duality, the savage rage and silver fire mixed with a beauty able to bring kings to their knees was too much for him, no matter how many times he had claimed her as his, yet his feet moved instinctively, and he reached the pair at the very end of the waltz, trying to ignore how his tapered fingers had descended into the hollow of her bare back or how her cheeks were flushed.

“Move,” Cassian said coldly, halting their private moment. He stood before them amid the sea of people cradled in black, just another piece of Night, until Eris stared at him down his straight nose, ignoring the burning violence oozing from the warrior’s hazel eyes.

“Go sit at your master’s feet, dog,” he hissed, teeth bared, but Nesta was quick to interject, accepting her mates unspoken offer.

“We’ll play later, Nesta Archeron,” the fireling retorted, putting too much emphasis on her last name for Cassian’s liking, before aiming for the dais. For an instant, really just the time of the song, the General deluded himself that he had won, that he could somehow be the knight in shining armour of the story, the hero who saves the princess from the villain and thus obtains her hand and eternal, unconditional love. Those empty illusions were shattered when he followed her into the dark and suffocating corridors of the Court of Nightmares, when he watched her slender figure enter the chamber assigned to Eris for the duration of his visit, her steps cautious and silent as a cat’s. She barely glanced at the slightly ajar door, too focused on her lover’s eager embrace, and Cassian clenched his jaw at the portrait of carefree happiness.

“You’re tickling me!” she giggled as the snake peppered her neck with light kisses, the sound like a harp strumming high and sweet. From his hiding spot, Cassian saw his nemesis’ half-smile widen as he hooked a finger under one of her dress’ straps and pulled, flooding him with pounding, vibrating jealousy. He had to remind himself to breathe when the silk slid down her chest, briefly exposing one of her breasts before Eris could sweep her to the bed, the impalpable skirt mostly gathered between her parted legs, firmly clutched around his waist. As he feasted on her exposed skin, her body went loose and taunt in so many different places Cassian didn’t know where to focus: she was bent and shaped and directed by her lover, her widened pupils hiding under long lashes thanks to the skill of the fingertips massaging her core. The ghosts of nearly faded love bites revealed themselves on the lower part of her ass as she arched her back in ecstasy and Cassian’s face went slack. It wasn’t him who left those marks on her, the memory of the sleepless night spent together forever imprinted in his memory, so she could only have had other partners, or maybe she had previously entertained herself between Eris’ sheets, protocol be damned. The matter quickly slipped out of his mind when the smell of her arousal flowed and swam around him, clouding his senses as she melted under someone else’s touch. There wasn’t enough space inside him, not in his mind or his heart, for what the situation made him feel, he just knew he was hard under his trousers, his body ready to honour and worship someone he had been unable to keep up with when he had the chance.

He was about to leave to deal with his shame when their gazes met. He would have expected those merciless and cold eyes to pin him to the spot, he supposed she would scream in anger, or perhaps warn Eris with quiet disdain that some beast beneath them was spying on their tryst, but instead her irises glimmered and she let out a moan, her flawless red lips, sin personified, parted to draw a likewise perfect O. As if awakened by that sound, her lover crawled back to her mouth, his hands busy undoing his pompous clothing. Cassian knew what was about to happen, he had watched and performed this dance for centuries, in the frenzy of inexperienced youth and in the blind search for solace when the need was too much. He had fucked females on all fours like some kind of wild animal, knees hurting on marble floors and feet losing their grips in the mud, in a foolish attempt to fill the void left by Nesta, but no one showed on their features the pure, feral delight that crashed on his mate’s face when Eris entered her all at once, like a conqueror of death, glowing as he devoured moonlit skin and shared heartbeats. Between one fast thrust and the next, he lifted Nesta’s arms above her head, their matching rings glinting as if lit by an inner fire. He guided her through the orgasm with ease and they came together, a rising cacophony of panting and groaning.

“I hope you’re with child,” he whispered, his words so shocking they made Cassian audibly gasp. There was no way he hadn’t heard the sound, even lost in his unchecked, dark joy, yet he decided to ignore it.

"Why so?" she murmured seductively, gleaming with wanton desire as she drank in his expression, whatever it was. She didn’t seem to object the idea, nor she sounded eager to postpone it as long as she could.

“It would give us an excuse to speed up the organization of this wedding. I know my father wants it to exude power, to convey all the strength of our family, and my mother wishes for every detail to be perfect, but I’m growing tired of this façade,” he replied honestly, then lovingly erased a smudge of kohl from the corner of her left eye, a remark of the familiarity they shouldn’t have had yet.

“She has no daughters and I have no mother,” she pointed out, amazing Cassian with the nonchalance she used to address her traumatic past. “Let her have fun.”

“I know, and I will never show even a hint of displeasure when she will inevitably take you away for the whole day to pick the best party favours and select the optimal spot to best showcase the sheer magnitude of the orchestra you so wisely selected, but the only thing I aspire to is to finally be able to get away from the intrigues and the backstabbing for a while, to travel wherever we want and show you all the wonders Prythian and the Continent has to offer,” he confessed, and Nesta kissed him again, dangling her love and triumph in Cassian’s face, a silent dismissal to whatever his role had been in her night.

Slowly, the fearsome Lord of Bloodshed retreated in the shadow, engulfed in a cocoon of grief and rage at the Mother’s mistake, the sound of his shattering heart deafening in his eardrums.

[averageallogene]

hi! ive been thinking abt this for a while but could you do lyney x mermaid! reader 🩷

Lyney ♡⊹˚  Solace [SFW]

fem. reader (3rd person) ; fluffy fluff with a side of hurt/comfort, just because Lyney deserves the love :( ♡ ; reader is a mermaid! cw for diving (in case of any phobias!) ; Also mild spoilers of Act I of the first Fontaine Archon Quest. 

3k words.

notes. Hi dear anon! ♡ Your wish is my command. Lyney with a mermaid reader is such a sweet idea, my fingers just began flying across the keyboard <3. I went with a fem. reader this time, I hope that's okay! If not, don't be shy to request a gn! version and I'll see what I can do. I hope you enjoy! ✧˖°.

The crowd cheered wildly, a standing ovation following as the pair extended their arms. Embracing the whistles and the praise was a reward the magicians were more than welcoming towards, even if reacting in different ways. A deep bow followed suit, the clapping growing louder, the cheering continuing for long minutes straight. The wooden floor boards beneath them even trembled, the mere satisfaction of their audience being utterly felt by the two even as they finally were released from the spotlight as the curtain slowly descended. 

Lyney and Lynette had remained there, hands held together, him smiling and her remaining elegantly still up until they were no longer faced with their crowd. It was only after the maroon fabric concealed them that they could finally relax their muscles, their hands lowering before letting their breath go freely. Another show was successful, much to their pleasure. 

"Good work, dear Lynette." He'd congratulated his brilliant sister, smiling with pride whilst attempting to conceal the way he was tired. It was unsuccessful, yet his sister didn't comment on it.

"You as well." She quietly hummed, the two exiting the stage before equally congratulating their team for their efforts. It was only as they were assured they were alone, that she spoke again. "Did you find anything?"

Lyney took his intricate hat off, gently placing it on top of his vanity. He focused to no point in particular, his gaze getting lost on the most minor of details as he sighed quietly. 

"No, I didn't. I couldn't… Go far." Beneath his breath he admitted, his fingertips tracing the edge of his top hat as he could watch from the corner of his eye his sister, who remained still. "I think it's too early for us to go back on the hunt so boldly, no?"

"You might be right," Lynette's brows visibly furrowed. "Yet still, we can't fail Father either."

Silence. Lyney -could feel the knot on his throat tighten. Suddenly, his dressing room felt suffocating. 

"I know." Was all he mustered. Nothing more was needed, anyway. Lynette knew she was touching a sore topic, and as such she herself stopped from speaking further about it. 

It simply was still too fresh. Lyney feared he'd get himself, or worse his sister, in any trouble were he to attempt to further investigate the Oratrice right now… surely Father would understand. Right? 

His head weighed heavy, spinning uncontrollably with everything that swarmed his mind for those past couple of days. He barely managed to account for everything being in its right place before he was already out the door and towards the Opera's exit, his sister inquiring hastily.

"Are you leaving?"

"Yes, I just need some fresh air." He offered her a tired, albeit still honest smile.

"Ah, I see." She was quick to understand, nodding her head. "Just be back in time to spend some time with Freminet. We promised."

"Do not worry dear Lynette, my little brain shan't fail me." He waved her off with a hum, his feet quickly sending him flying off the tall and imposing building.

The bustling sounds of the crowd slowly dissipated, the blurry conversations blown with the wind as Lyney felt the breeze caress his face. His black boots carried him off to one of the shore lines of the sea, his expression finally letting go of all the tension he hadn't realized he had up until then. 

There were no roaring cheers, no suffocating applause, no rush between his colleagues to rearrange and secure props. There were no Archons to amuse, no Fathers to make proud. There was no need for a charming magician, nor the need of loyalty of one of the House of Hearth.

"Lyney! You made it!"

There was only need for him to be Lyney, himself. And at that moment he smiled vividly, rivaling the very sun with how bright he shined. His pace became slightly quicker, crossing through the pearly sands as he reached one of the taller rocks near the shore. 

There stood one of the very few people he knew he could be truly himself with. One that cared for him as he was, one that had no ulterior motives for wanting to love him. An enchanting figure to his life, a breath of fresh air that helped him calm from all his worries. 

"Of course I made it, I'd never promise something I didn't intend on upholding my dear!" He laughed quietly, carelessly entering the refreshing waters until they were up to halfway his thighs. He opened his arms with twice the energy and yearning he’d usually display, enveloping his love in his warm embrace as she giggled blissfully. “Have you been waiting for too long? You’ve dried up already…”

“No, don’t worry.” She reassured him, shaking her head before holding both his hands. “It wasn’t long, I promise.”

“Is that the case…” His eyes squinted, a hint of playfulness evident in his features as he reached closer. His pretty eyes scanned her figure, noting how only her tail that was still submerged in the freshwater was obviously wet. Even her lovely hair had, at that point, half dried. If those weren’t the dead giveaways as they were, the way her tail had begun to slowly sway from one side to the other whilst creating the smallest of ripples on the water definitely was. “This keen eye tells me otherwise, mon coeur.”

Her face finally cracked, morphing into the prettiest of pouts that did wonders at pulling at his heartstrings. “I… I just- I just missed you a lot, so I might’ve come up ashore a little earlier than usual…”

Ah, Lyney’s very eyes seemed to reflect hearts as his very own melted. “Oh, my dear [F/N]... I’m sorry, had I known I would’ve rushed quicker!”

“N-No! No no no, absolutely not, there is no need!” The mermaid squeezed his hands tighter, all the while her magician remained there, leaning against the same rock where she sat, a loopy smile never leaving his lovestruck face as she spoke. “You have a lot to do, a lot of responsibilities, I don’t want to impose anything upon your schedule, Lyney!”

Well, there was the smallest part of him that… Perhaps hoped that she would. True, Lyney had a lot of responsibilities to his being, and he knew better than to avoid them; but it was those small escapades he’d do with his lovely [F/N] that refreshed his existence, recharged his batteries to take on everything else he needed to do. She was his solace, his comfort, and there was about nothing he’d deny her were she to ask. 

Yet all the same, the fact she didn’t ask of anything more of him than his true self to be with her when he could, was one of the many reasons he loved her so dearly.

“Ah, I remembered,” Her back straightened up, the prettiest pink rising to her cheeks as she eyed him ahead with a cheery smile. “I-I had… Something I wanted to give you but, I didn’t know where to hide it until you came and…”

“You got something for me?” He seemed genuinely surprised, his eyes sparkling with curiosity as he remained fully focused on her figure. 

[F/N] in turn nodded her head. “It’s nothing special really, but still… I was hoping I could give it to you.”

“Oh now I am most curious,” Lyney breathed out with a wide smile, his hand quickly finding her face before stroking her cheek. “I’m certain I will absolutely adore it, love. Anything you give me is worth the world.”

The mermaid could feel her heart beating louder at his honeyed words. [F/N] knew that he meant it, too. And so, even as she herself wasn’t fully convinced, she kindly asked him to wait for her, before diving right down the fresh waters. Lyney watched as her tail swayed quickly, the figure slithering into the translucent waters before vanishing. He remained there as asked, the smile ever present on his face as he waited.

It was quiet… It felt nice. His head was mostly rested, emptied of all that troubled him. All he could focus was on the soft sounds of the water, ripples as the small waves reached his skin, up until they were stirred as his [F/N] reemerged to the surface. Her pretty hair now clung to her figure, a few strands hiding her glistening eyes as the color on her face rivaled the blooming roses he too adored. She swam his way, his endearing smile beckoning her as he sat himself comfortably to properly welcome her back. With his legs slightly parted she rested against him, her long shimmering tail hanging close to his legs as she doted on his very presence. 

“I… It really isn’t anything special, honestly.” [F/N] spoke softly, all the while Lyney listened attentively with an encouraging smile. “It truly pales in comparison to the gifts you’ve given me but still. I hope you’ll like it, Lyney…”

She shifted, her arms bringing to the surface the subject of the conversation. The magician gently held his hands out, the wondrous gleam of a child present upon his face as he waited in anticipation for the kind gesture of his lovely girlfriend. Carefully his hands were blessed with a small object, a delicate conch with the most simplest yet beautiful shapes. It was a cleaned clam conch, its exterior seemingly mundane as it sported its most common shade - this much he knew, from the few times he’d witnessed Freminet freely talk about every little trinket he’d find during his divings. Still, the smile he gave [F/N] didn’t fade, in fact it seemed to only grow, his mind only swarming with how she’d picked that conch specifically for him. It had been something she’d gone out of her way of giving him, and no matter how simple it might’ve been, the gesture made his heart burst in happiness. 

In turn, his mermaid remained silent, a shy smile on her damp face as she calmly turned the item around. It was finally time to study Lyney’s face, her heart hoping for any sight of wonder. And truly, Lyney’s expression didn’t fail to amuse, his pretty lips parting as he let out a soft ‘oh’ - the inside of the clam wowing him with its exquisite colors and shades. Its interior gleamed, the hues of violet and pink dancing in a beautiful array of color. It seemed to glitter when wet with the crystalline waters, in its small surface hiding away the sparkle that could truly outshine a starry sky.

“My, [F/N]... It’s beautiful.” Lyney had breathed out, the corners of his mouth lifting in the most genuine of smiles he’d bless her with. His eyes glanced to her own, the smallest pink dust now on his cheeks as he held it close to his heart, his sweetheart in turn smiling as well with his honest reaction.

“I’m glad!” She sighed softly, her arms resting on his lap as her shoulders tensed slightly. “In truth, I got you this conch because its interior… It reminds me of your beautiful eyes.”

The smile he previously had slowly faded, though it wasn’t due to anything more than the sheer surprise her statement brought him. The magician blinked twice as he took her words in, his hand reopening to examine the gift once more. That same wondrous shade of violet the conch had… Had it reminded her of his eyes? Did his [F/N], perhaps, see his eyes in such a light?

“They’re a similar shade, though I still think your eyes are far prettier…” [F/N] confessed, her voice nearly drowning amongst the waters as she whispered in such a soft tone. By that point she rested her head on his lap, the love in which she gazed upon him with being enough to rival an entire ocean. “Everytime I swim through the waters, I find myself fixating on the prettiest little things. They always seem to remind me of you… Whether it be due to the similar color of your eyes, or how they remind me of the stories you’ve told me- L-Lyney?”

He hadn’t even realized how the tears had begun to overflow, streaming down his round cheeks as he attempted to compose himself. He simply couldn’t however, an embarrassed and short chuckle escaping from his throat as he attempted to clear the droplets of water away. His smile was trembling, the blush on his face worsening as his eyes grew a little red. Why was he even crying? It certainly wasn’t what he wished for, worrying his sweetheart in such a way… One thing he was certain of though, it wasn’t due to sadness. He felt his heart bursting instead, overjoyed despite the delicate state in which his emotions were. It was as though everything had overwhelmed him, the way in which [F/N]’s words patched a hole in his heart and soothed him, sending him over the edge as he tried to fight back against the knot that was forming on his throat.

“Ah, I’m sorry, darling. I-I’m okay, I ap-pologize for crying in such a sudden way, I-I didn’t want you worry you-”

“It’s okay, look at me…” [F/N] hushed him softly, bringing herself a little more out of her water before coaxing him to pry his hands away from his face. Lyney could only oblige to her, feeling as her damp hands gently caressed his hot skin, cooling his cheeks as her thumbs cleaned the tears away. Her eyebrows were furrowed in honest concern for him, gazing deeply into the same violet eyes she had declared to adore so deeply. “...You’ve been feeling overwhelmed, haven’t you my love?”

It had been her turn to read him like an open book, the weak and semi-forced smile he’d mustered being enough of an answer for her. He was by that point attempting to hold back the sobs from escaping, though it was as though Lyney himself wasn’t even sure how he’d suddenly unraveled in such an indecent way. He was happy at that moment, he was sure of it, yet it had been as though [F/N]’s pour of pure love for him had opened the lock that kept everything else away, as well. 

In truth, he hadn’t felt so… Loved, for a long while. 

He knew he was loved and cared for, yet still. Those past few weeks had been rough. And the mere way his dear [F/N], an innocent person who had little to no idea of all of his uglier sides, could so deeply love him to the point where the most simplest and beautiful things reminded her of him - it had shattered him into the most beautiful million pieces, like glitter that fell down into oblivion.

“Here...” [F/N] softly hummed to him, her embrace enveloping him as he didn’t think twice to reciprocate. Lyney held her tightly, her tail close to his lower body as she held him carefully, letting him seek the comfort he needed on her shoulder as she lulled him above the water. “It’s okay… You must’ve been very busy with everything in your life, haven’t you? Are you doing okay?”

He could only nod, attempting to reassure her he was alright, hanging by, at least. [F/N] never pressured him to reveal more, which was always something he deeply cherished. He never wished to hide anything from her, yet all the same, he knew he was selfish for never wishing to warp her perception of him… After all, once upon [F/N] knowing of all of him, would he still be able to be only Lyney with her, too?

“And are Lynette and Freminet okay, too?” She questioned gently, her voice humming as they stood there, floating in the refreshing waters. Again he nodded, a sigh of relief escaping her as she stroked through his hair gently. “I’m glad.”

“Sorry, love, I didn’t want our little date to go this route,” He heaved softly, finally gathering the courage to lift from her neck, eyeing her with a small frown. Instead of finding any look of concern or disappointment however, his lovely girlfriend instead smiled gently at him. “I assure you, I am very happy with your gift and your presence, it’s just…”

“It’s okay Lyney, don’t apologize. I will love you regardless, you don’t have to always force happiness. Everyone needs to let it all out from time to time.” His grasp on her only tightened after that, his smile more genuine as he basked in her words. “You don’t have to tell me everything if you don’t feel ready to, I’ll still be here for you! Now, how about we go for a swim to try and lighten up?”

“That sounds… Like a wonderful idea.” He hummed, leaning into her touch as she cleared the last few tears that spilled out. It was his turn to rest his hand on her cheek, caressing her skin with all the love he had for her, leaning in before planting a small yet still meaningful kiss to the corner of her lips. 

In turn, the mermaid giggled in satisfaction. “Good, are you ready?”

“Ah yes, let me just…” Quickly he secured the gift she’d given him to one of his pockets, ensuring it wouldn’t float away to his possible dismay. [F/N] watched with endearment over how he seemed to cherish the small gift so religiously, her hands guiding him deeper into the waters before they finally submerged. 

The waters were tranquil, enveloping the two of them like a welcoming blanket. The current was soft and welcoming, the bright sun allowing them to view the ecosystems perfectly as they swam. [F/N]’s hand remained locked with Lyney’s, her pace slower than what he very much knew she was capable of as they went side by side. Together they went through the lesser known paths of the giant coral reefs where [F/N] resided, the small otters she shared her home with welcoming them with cute squeaks as they swam nearby them. Lyney smiled as one brought another conch to him, this one simple and pink in color, his girlfriend giggling along before having another look at it.

“They seem to adore you!”

“Is that so?” He laughed softly, his hand squeezing hers tighter as they swam a little quicker. “Mhm, do you think they’d find a magic trick a fair payback for their kind gesture?”

“Oh, I’m sure they’d find it amusing,” He watched with happiness as she laughed at the mere idea of him entertaining a bunch of otters with his cards. “Even I am curious about how that would go, now!”

“Then next time we come swimming, I will be sure to bring my deck.” Lyney nodded his head, utterly serious about his next endeavor. After all, an audience of cute otters… Well, they weren’t cats, but cute and easier to please nonetheless.

[F/N] cautiously led him through the shoals of fishes that swam throughout the pristine waters, smiling as she pointed along, telling him more of each species. The magician could only smile and listen, the mere sound of her voice easing his heavy heart, casting all pressure aside as his worries were washed away with the current. Their swim wasn’t long, yet it seemed to be effective in easing his mind, providing him the comfort he needed to rebalance his state of mind. Before he knew it and wished for, the time for him to leave approached, and knowing so as well, [F/N] gently led him back to the surface, their journey ending on the same rock in which they would regularly meet at. 

Lyney still remained there for a little longer, his body soaking in the sun that was still up in the sky. He patiently waited for most of his clothes to dry, conversing with his lovely [F/N] all the while as they shared laughter and reminisced over fond memories. And when he no longer could avoid his inevitable departure, he leaned down, meeting [F/N] halfway as she remained mostly submerged under the water. 

“Thank you, mon coeur. I can’t properly express just how much you mean to me…” He’d breathed out, it fanning over her face in a gentle notion that caused her to blush in response. 

“It’s nothing, Lyney. I love you, after all. Anything I can do to help you, I will.” She smiled sincerely, the magician swearing he could only hear his heart bursting with the loveliest of fireworks. 

“Then…” He leaned closer, his fingers stroking her jawline softly. “Will you give me your afternoon tomorrow? I would love to whisk your attention away for myself, if you’ll indulge me…”

The way her eyes sparkled at his suggestion made him fall in love all over again. “Of course! I will wait for you here, as always.”

“That’s my good girl.” He smiled with both mischievousness and adoration, his lips capturing hers once more. Against his chest he held the conch she’d gifted him, having ensured he hadn’t lost it amidst their voyage. “I will be back tomorrow, okay darling?”

“And I shall be here, my love.” [F/N] whispered, another faint kiss being shared before Lyney forced himself to finally get up.

It always was as though a piece of him remained with her each time he left, a small and painful gap in his heart remaining unfilled until he would inevitably return. Yet still, he would have it no other way, for in his beloved mermaid’s hands lay his heart, bare and true, for her to safekeep. 

Lyney was many things - a magician, an older brother, a member of the fatui. But with [F/N], on those waters that would wash his worries away, he could be simply himself, no labels attached. And were anyone to call him selfish he’d fully embrace it, for it was something he would always protect, and never give up. She was his solace, and he would forever treasure her for the unconditional love she provided.

[sysmedsaresexist]

As someone who remembers how vile syscourse was just a few years ago, when I heard this blog experienced character devrlopment, I was shocked at first. When I found some posts explaining it, I was even more intrigued.

If anyone is open to it, I wouldn't mind a link to any explanation of how you fell into sysmedicalism and how you started unlearning it. I'm genuinely proud of you for that development, because changing your entire outlook on a topic is difficult, especially when you have people who support that old view but not the new one behind you. This isn't meant to be condescending, in case it is read that way.

Syscourse has only gotten more vile, honestly.

This ask kind of comes at an interesting time. Last night, I made a post about the TPA and my extreme hatred for them (that'll never change), but I linked a post from my second Twitter account, which brought me WAY back to my first active move in syscourse.

First off, hi, it's not condescending. I found it's a lot easier to talk about than I thought it would be. It doesn't hurt as much as I thought to say, "I was wrong and being hard-headed." I was expecting ego death, but instead, everyone has been so kind.

I was asked what made me switch sides, but as for my humble beginning...

I spent a good couple years just lurking and watching. I was out in therapy and quietly taking all these questions to my therapist. "Are endos real? Is DID really trauma based? Could I be endo? Is that what you become when you heal from DID?"

Suffice to say, not the healthiest questions. There was a lot of misinformation out there. Through talking to my therapist, I believed I was in the right, and I debated for a long time getting involved to talk about some of the more prominent myths about DID.

But then.

Then.

I met Bethany.

Well, I didn't meet her. She blocked me immediately. She was a social worker, and a pro endo, DID system, but I really didn't like the way she talked down to CDD systems.

She was actually huge on Twitter, she had her own website and everything for sex positive therapy, she was doing interviews, she made wild claims about what kind of work she had done in the field, sob stories about clients that didn't make it. She had just started something called the Dissociative Society of Canada.

She was BIG.

And she was a liar.

I'm actually genuinely curious if anyone remembers this, it was seriously a huge, DESTRUCTIVE event to hit BOTH communities.

The Dissociative Society of Canada was real. She started it. But she was not a social worker. Her stories weren't real.

Having done all the same schooling myself, in the same province, with the same rules, I knew she was lying, and I called her out for it.

The pro endo AND CDD community attacked me HARD. I was told I was harassing and stalking, I remember reading the post that called for people to mass report me and I remember the emails starting to flood in from Twitter from countries that required the email be sent for reports. The only posts I had made on Twitter had been about Bethany, but people were talking about who I must be as a person and why I was so angry and jaded and terrible.

Eventually, Bethany admitted it. She never publicly apologized. She made her board of directors do it for her in a letter about shutting down the society (they hadn't known either). I was able to get her listed as an unlicensed therapist to avoid (she's still on there). The Dissociative Society of Canada was shut down after only a year.

And I felt terrible. I hated myself. The posts that came out afterwards about how much people had loved Bethany and how their trust had been destroyed, people that had done therapy with her and were permanently damaged by the lie. She had given a lot of people hope, but it was all a lie.

That was my fault. If I hadn't said anything, I don't think she would have been caught. She was still in school to get her education, she wanted to become licensed, she just wasn't yet.

But it was illegal for her to be providing therapy and telling everyone she was a social worker. She used this title to shut down anyone who disagreed with her, even when she was clearly wrong.

It was a clusterfuck. I came out of it DESPISING endogenic systems for the harassment and misinformation, and the lies about ME. I hated the desire to ignore her unlicensed, illegal actions simply because she had been a prominent voice for the pro endo community (seriously, people wished I hadn't done it, that she had never been called out and had continued her work).

This was my first real interaction with the pro endo community. A lying POS and a bunch of endos lying about me.

I started JAS around that time, and we all know what happened from there. My first post was about the myth of the 10% non-traumagenic in the DSM (it's a misquote).

I don't want to say I wanted to replace Bethany-- I wanted to show how someone who wasn't licensed could still advocate without lies, I wanted to provide that same level of educated discussion, I actually heavily considered putting together a licensed team to start another dissociative society. I debated getting licensed to do it myself.

Unfortunately, life doesn't always work out that way.

I did get her Twitter url out of it when she deleted, though. My trophy.

Ending on a sad note, I suppose.

I was distrusting of the endo community, I was angry. I didn't trust anyone for a long time after this. Who would just go online and lie like that?

It took a really long time to get over it and let go of that anger and hurt.

Remember, don't trust anyone or anything on the internet. Fact check everyone and everything, even if you think you already know the answer, or think you know who someone is.

If she hadn't been such an actual bitch to people, I wouldn't have noticed. Seriously. This was the tweet that caught her, no therapist should talk like this to anyone. The concerns raised in the first image mirrored my own exactly, and I would not have appreciated being spoken to that way. I thought, if she IS licensed, she should be reprimanded. But I couldn't find her license, and thus began the downfall of Bethany Killen.

TL;dr if you're lying on the internet, be nice to people :)

While I didn't always live up to my own standards of civility (I can admit that), I TRIED to speak to endogenic systems as respectfully as possible, and my only goal was to NOT be like Bethany. Sometimes I failed, but at least I never claimed to be licensed.

The point is that I'm trying to be better every day. Finally admitting that I was pro endo made it a lot easier to be nice. I wasn't trying to hold up this charade anymore.

And finally, I want to remind everyone that it's not just "the other side" that can do damage or spread misinformation. Our own community can do damage if we don't call each other out, too.

The most damaging thing I've ever seen in syscourse came from another CDD system.

I think I've rambled enough, thank you!

[crybabylipstick]

TALKING ABOUT THE ALLEGATIONS AGAINST MELANIE MARTINEZ:

In November of 2017, Timothy tweeted "what if I have my own story of a*use but I'm scared to ruin the persons life and I still love them in a f*cked up way and the public really loves them and most probably wouldn't believe me".

On December 4, 2017, Timothy publicly accused Melanie of s*xual as*ault on Twitter. She alleged two nights during which she "repeatedly said no" to advances from Melanie, claiming she kept secret for years and describing how Melanie had performed s*xual act*vities on her without her consent.

Melanie replied to the accusation shortly after claiming Timothy's allegation was false:

"I am horrified and saddened by the statements and story told tonight by Timothy Heller. What she and I shared was a close friendship for a period of time. We came into each other's lives as we were both starting our careers as artists, and tried to help each other. We both had pain in dealing with our individual d*mons and the new paths we were forging, but I truly felt we were trying to lift each other up. She never said no to what we chose to do together. And although we parted ways, I am sending her love and light always." (In case the picture is blurry).

- Melanie Martinez

In an interview with Newsweek, Timothy claimed that Melanie tried to contact both her and her boyfriend around 20 minutes after publishing the accusations through text and phone calls. No evidence to back this up was ever shared. In the aforementioned interview, Timothy went on to say that Melanie's dismissal of her account "says it all":

First of all, I did say 'no,' multiple times, but even if I hadn't, that doesn't mean I wanted it. She dug her own grave saying, 'she didn't say no'. That's not consent."

- Timothy Heller

On December 10, Melanie thanked her fans who supported her after the accusations.

"I understand how hard it could be to see my side of the story, considering no one with a heart would want to invalidate anyone speaking up about this topic. I want to thank my fans who took the time to research the timeline, analyze past Instagram photos, and question the story being told, which reveal her false statements. I trusted so many people in my life who took advantage of that trust for their own personal gain. Please know that my intentions with everything that I do in my life are always pure and I would never be i*timate with someone without their absolute consent." (In case the picture is blurry).

- Melanie Martinez

On July 19, 2024, 6 years after the controversy, Timothy posted a 6-minute video onto TikTok detailing how she had been h*rassed and bullied off the internet due to speaking up about the all*gations. She also said that she felt "quite validated" from Melanie's response due to Melanie admitting that the two had something take place between them.

(screenshot of the video Timothy is talking about Melanie and the whole situation).

Now, before anyone says something like "Oh wow you're supporting a 🍇pist" "You support 🍇pe" "Can't believe you believe Melanie" etc. I don't believe anyone, I'm not picking sides neither I'm trying to start a fight or offend anyone. I've been getting a lot of hate about the whole situation from people who don't even know me, saying stuff like "You support 🍇pe" "I hope you get 🍇ped too" "Supporting a 🍇pist" and really mean and offensive stuff like that. I DO NOT support 🍇pe. I just wanted to clear some things out, just because I'm a fan of Melanie doesn't mean I support everything she does and believe in everything she says etc. I'm just a fan and nothing more, I DO NOT care about her personal LIFE or what she DOES. I just listen to her music and art. I'm not trying to offend anyone or anything. And I'm not saying you shouldn't express your thoughts or opinions on the whole situation or anything like that. Neither I'm saying you are in the wrong if you believe Timothy/Melanie. All I'm trying to say is we shouldn't judge or pick sides because only Melanie and Timothy know what truly happened. We might never know the truth, and that's totally okay. The only people who can judge each other are Melanie and Timothy. We don't even know what happened. Timothy could be lying, Melanie could be lying, who knows? Also, Melanie hasn't been proven GUILTY neither is Timothy's story INVESTIGATED or proven to be TRUE.

Another thing I want to point out is that even tho Timothy claims to be traumatised by Melanie and the whole situation etc. Timothy in 2015/2016 had dressed up as Melanie:

( 1st photo edited by me (I mean how I compared the pictures) , please give credits if you use etc. Thank you 🌬️🤍).

I'm sure you don't dress up as someone who has done something so serious and mean to you.

Not to mention when Timothy said the date that apparently the whole situation happened Melanie was in another state on the "CRYBABY TOUR". The last time I checked, you couldn't f*ck someone from that far away. (Not trying to offend anyone). And she also has claimed that she didn't remember the date that well yet she is still giving us a date.

Anyways, that's all I have to say, if you read all that, thank you, I really appreciate it. 🌬️🤍

( By the way, this is MY opinion about the whole situation. NOT trying to start a fight, be mean or offend anyone. Saying this so that there won't be any misunderstandings or false information 💕🩹).

[cococubess]

Things I Would Ideally Want in Sofia the First: Royal Magic

(obviously this is going to be a show for pre-schoolers again, so they can’t get away with anything too dark. HOWEVER they did include some heavy topics in season 4)

(a lot of this is assuming that it takes place close to/directly after the finale)

• Cedric and Sofia father-daughter bonding time

•Sofia passes the amulet on/looses it in some capacity at the end and has to confront who she is without her powers. This would include parting with Clover, Mia, and Robin.

•Sofia and Roland talk about the fact that he indirectly (at best) killed his wife and they are most likely the only two people who know about it. Like take accountability bro

• The Protector’s acknowledging that they have basically made Sofia into a child solider

•The Magic Library episodes since those got really sparse at the end and felt really half assed

•Sofia confronts how much pressure has been on her for the past 4 years of her formative life

•Sofia and Miranda have a proper talk about the Amulet and how much Sofia had been hiding from her

•Tbh just have Sofia run away at some point, she is under so much stress and has the means to with her powers. Of course she’d come back and regret it, but acting that way wouldn’t be out of character for someone her age who is so mentally exhausted

•This one is pretty clearly going to be answered, but what exactly this Royal Magic School is. We didn’t see it at the school fair to my knowledge, so how is it found and why didn’t we know about it before?

•Sofia goes to the school by herself, rather than with James and Amber. Sofia’s already a very independent person, but I want to see James and Amber react to properly being away from each other for the first time

•It’s unclear if the schools that the royals choose to go to are sleep away schools, or another that they commute to. Either way, I’d like to see Roland and Miranda deal with empty nest syndrome while their kids are either living somewhere else or just very busy.

•Have focus on the other characters. Now that the Enchancian kids futures have been firmly stated, it would awkward to only have episodes focused on Sofia’s adventures. It’d be really rewarding to see James and Amber at their respective schools as well

•More detailed Cedric character arc. Now that Sofia is off at school and much more busy, Cedric has to work on being a good person without her influence being around to push him in the right direction as often. Give me a good one on one between him and Roland about their childhood issues

•If they could get Zach Callison back as James that would be AMAZING! Especially with how much his singing has improved, I think his and Darcy Rose Byrnes voices would sound amazing together

•SABRINA BACK AS VIVIAN imagine how much attention the show could get if they do! And because she was great as Vivian, of course!

•Miranda’s backstory. Who are her parents, how did she and Birk meet, how she adjusted to palace life. We see everything through Sofia’s perspective, so seeing Miranda dealing her same problems like grief or such a stark change of environment as an adult would be super interesting

•Tbh I don’t want to see Sofia in any romantic relationships. Like maybe it’s because of how young she is but I really can’t see her in a relationship with anyone😭😭 As much as a chunk of the fandom wants to see her get with Vivian or Hugo, I want them to just avoid the topic all together

•Do SOMETHING with Carrol of the Arrow, like they set up a whole thing of showing that the royals kind of suck and then never used the characters again

•Prisma doesn’t show up. Just mention her in passing like “Oh yeah remember Walmart Princess Ivy? Yeah lol that sucked”

•Jade just doesn’t show up <3

•Some sort of side special where Ariel Winter is fully interviewed about her time as Sofia. She seems so interesting, and was beginning the shower during Modern Family, meaning she would have been insanely busy but clearly cared enough about the show to continue. Desperately need an interviewer to ask her about her silly Disney Jr show😭😭

I have 2 years to come up with new ideas so expect more👹👹

[back-on-my-autistic-bullshit]

Full Moon Stolitz thoughts

Alright I'm getting on this shit because I am obsessed with Stolitz unironically. Before I start this I want to be absolutely clear that (in my opinion) there is no "right" side in the overall situation between Blitz and Stolas. Both equally have problems that contribute to their miscommunication and I can sympathise with both of them. If you disagree, feel free to ignore this post and scroll on, I don't mind friendly debate with people I know well but strangers on the internet are a different story.

I do generally project heavily onto Blitz which yeah probably impacts my interpretation of this a lot but I'm just a guy on tumblr I'm not here to be 100% right I'm just posing my take on their behaviours etc etc

Mandatory Disclaimer: spoilers start below! Do not click read more if you care about spoilers for The Full Moon episode of Helluva Boss

That all said, I'm splitting this into three parts:

Blitz's behaviour throughout the episode

Stolas' behaviour throughout the episode

Blitz and Stolas' confrontation/argument/interaction at the end of the episode

Part One: Blitz's behaviour

Starting off with "When I See Him", the basics of it (that is played up a bit for comedy and more or less directly stated really at the start) is that Blitz is obviously covering up how he really feels by concentrating entirely on the sex he anticipates having, and acting like that is what is important to him.

Are we okay? Can't really say I'm getting by By avoiding his questions It's so complicated, I hate when it's complicated Why do I always end up in situations that are complicated?

Blitz knows there is something wrong, or off, between the two of them but he'd rather not talk or communicate about it - literally preferring to avoid the topic entirely because "complicated" = bad, and he has no idea how to fix that, despite the fact that most of his relationships have been and/or are still complicated, he doesn't know how to deal with that because he never learnt. He's started to with Fizz a bit at the very least, but he's definitely not in a place to do that with romantic relationships yet - but I digress.

Here I go again, getting in my head So I'll focus on the sexy stuff instead

Not too much to say about this part other than he is actively choosing to disregard his anxieties and worries about him and Stolas by putting on this mask of caring about the sex and nothing else. Honestly, not a surprise with Blitz, this is pretty average behaviour and is very much likely a common coping mechanism of his to avoid serious feelings when engaging in relationships of a romantic nature. Especially since he seems to place a lot of value in himself in how good he is in bed.

When I see him, I'm gonna do that thing he likes No need to change things, I'll just bring the ropes and spikes[/spice*] We've got a nice arrangement And it's working out just fine We'll keep it light

Can't wait to lose ourselves in nasty sex And make that bird squawk We'll just stick with what makes sense

Same as above, he's going to what's familiar and directly deciding he'd rather ignore any issues they have and not talk about them in favour of doing what they normally do on full moons and call it a night.

*my audio processing disorder really did not like that line, and I cannot completely tell if that's right - any mistakes in lyrics or other quotes from the show before or after this are almost definitely because of this so please feel free to correct me.

Moving on from the song, some things Blitz does or says during the conversation with Moxxie and Loona in the office that stick out to me.

It's the full moon, I gotta meet up with Stolas tonight. Felt like dressing up a little since it's been a few months since I've been inside his feathered ass.

This is personally really interesting to me since he's not been known to dress up explicitly to see Stolas before (excluding the posts that have been seen on the instagram accounts but I'm hesitant to count those as 100% hard canon, and they were outfits of a different variety - not a bowtie and suspenders as he's seen wearing in the episode). It's like he's trying very hard to impress him for.. some reason? I'm guessing he sees it as part of his whole plan to really sort of wow Stolas, get in there, get out, no touchy feely stuff. It comes off as the opposite to me though, it shows that he kind of values what Stolas think of him and his appearance - and that he wants to impress Stolas. This could just be him trying to prove his worth to Stolas so he doesn't get cast aside, but it could also be more.

This facial expression is very important to me. It's a split second frame of vulnerability in response to Loona saying the following:

Oh shit, he's getting bored of you.

This is genuine worry and concern on his face, he tried to cover it up with a smile but he is concerned. And yes, it could just be about losing the book, it probably is in part but I think it's more than that.

Loona also says this:

Yeah, man. If someone wants to see you less and less, big red flag. If they give you chances to ditch, they probably want out themselves. Just wanna be more passive aggressive about it, dicks.

When she says this Blitz reacts very on the defensive, repeating what she said mockingly and saying this:

How do you know, Loona?

It's a very defensive reaction and I'd bet he feels at least a little bit bruised and hurt at the thought of Stolas getting "bored" of him - which probably does not help at all with how he's struggling with how he currently feels about Stolas between the agreement for the book and not seeing him in a while.

Immediately after this interaction, he literally leaves his job (which like, yeah, he is own his boss I Guess he can do that whenever he wants but I can't imagine he does it a lot, I Hope, unless he thinks it's important) and goes shopping for more things to impress Stolas. It's a lot of effort to put into someone you don't really super care about, all things considered but let's just go with the devil's advocate here that it's not to lose the book and it doesn't really mean anything. Although I do find his choice to look at candles first interesting, assuming it's not for something else (resident sex repulsed asexual is struggling with thinking about that kind of thing - despite watching helluva boss lmao), Stolas seems to like candles. If I remember correctly, he has some near his bath.

An interesting detail for Blitz to know/remember/take into account, for someone he allegedly does not care about. Anddd that's it for Blitz's scenes in this episode.

Part 2: Stolas' Behaviour

Like with Blitz, I'm gonna focus on how Stolas acts in "When I See Him" first, then move on to what we see of him alone in the rest of the episode (which there's very little of, I think, unfortunately).

The summary of what I think of Stolas in this song is he clearly has a somewhat fairytale view of his relationship with Blitz still (which is only emphasised by how the song is disney princess like in nature), thankfully he knows he has to let him be separate from the terms of their agreement and has found a way for this to occur without horribly impacting Blitz's business. However, he (at least, at first) seems to think after this happens everything will go fine and be perfectly okay and happily ever after, or more likely hopes that is how the situation will end up - but we see more of his worries later on so he's evidently not completely deluding himself.

My derring-do is half disguised Behind a smile

I don't have a lot to say about this just that it shows Stolas is obviously aware that Blitz is performing at least a little when he's with him.

I swore I wouldn't dwell on the divorce

This line just interests me more than anything, it's understandable that he doesn't want to think about the divorce. God knows I wouldn't want to, but's it intriguing to see he's attempting to distance himself from it - I hope we see more about this in the future episodes, maybe.

So for my own health I'll remind myself That when I see him I know that it won't feel so tough I'll believe him And not the voice that says I'm not enough No need for an arrangement It can just be him and me I'll see us free How perfect it could be When I see him tonight

This bit is very sweet honestly, Stolas clearly yearns to be closer to Blitz - and he's trying his best to facilitate that. He just wants genuine connection and love, something he couldn't experience in his marriage with Stella. Stolas is obviously nervous and has some self worth issues to say the least, but he deals with them differently to Blitz. In fact, he finds that being with Blitz helps combat these (likely because he feels loved and/or wanted by someone).

Unrelated to dissecting the episode and the like, the voice acting for this part was incredible and I love the way Stolas' VA (his name has slipped my mind atm) conveys emotion in his voice - even while singing. He sounds very hopeful, yet the cracks and wobbles suggest how nervous he feels for the interaction with Blitz, even if he's currently acting as if he thinks it will end well.

Oh god I'll fucking die alone if this goes bad tonight

This bit really just kind of shows how nervous he does feel about talking with Blitz about giving him the crystal. And that he is scared it'll go wrong, it's nothing too crazy.

The detail of him having none of the medication he takes left is interesting to me though, just that he's still taking it, I guess - could suggest he's still struggling with anxiety etc etc.

Am I doing something I can't take back? Would he want me if he was free? And if he's only here as a prisoner What kind of a monster does that make me

Stolas is clearly feeling a lot of guilt for his past treatment of Blitz, and fear that his feelings aren't reciprocated - but it seems like he's more scared that he's been taking advantage of Blitz, than the thought that Blitz doesn't like him.

My entire life's been written in stone He taught me that I could choose

Blitz is the first person he really chose to meet or associate with, as a child and as an adult. There was no obligation to know him or socialise with him, or to be his friend (or more). In fact, it was discouraged if anything but Stolas chose to do it anyway - and it helped him realise he could do what he wanted, and gain the confidence to do so.

Part 3: Blitz and Stolas' confrontation

Stolas' body language here kills me, he's so nervous for what he's about to do, and despite his hopeful song early he's eerily somber - as if he knows this will end badly.

Blitz looks so afraid here, he's gone through all of this effort to try to impress Stolas and keep him from getting "bored" of him. Part of this is probably because he doesn't want to lose the connection he and Stolas have but honestly it's largely probably the fear of losing the book and his business that he's worked so hard for. Blitz is an incredibly ambitious person, and he's put a lot of blood, sweat and tears (mostly blood) into I.M.P and to have it taken away because of someone else due to not being good enough for them is probably one of his worst fears.

Blitz's immediate switch to trying to seduce Stolas is slightly jarring, but not all that surprising considering how this whole thing started. Blitz is desperate, trying anything to prove to Stolas he's worth keeping around. Meanwhile Stolas looks resigned, as if realising it really was just a performance for Blitz the entire time.

Stolas, please, I- I need this book. Please, I need this book, Stolas. I will do anything.

The immediate switch to begging, mixed with tears, took me off guard honestly. I didn't expect to see him do that but it makes sense considering how badly he treasures I.M.P and he really is just at the whim of Stolas and it could all collapse at any given moment.

I don't understand, why are you giving me this? Am I not like, fucking you good enough? Because I can- I can always do better.

This being Blitz's immediate reaction to getting the crystal from Stolas is upsetting. I was on the verge of tears here, he can't even comprehend that Stolas might genuinely want to give him a gift, not because Blitz isn't good enough, but because Stolas wants him to be independent. Blitz has never viewed himself as "good enough" for people and he puts on a lot of performances to convince himself he's worthy of being associated with others. This probably feels like, to him, a convoluted way of "getting rid" of him, instead of giving him freedom so he and Stolas can interact with less of a power imbalance.

This in an interesting roleplay, never done this one but I can get into it. How's this? Oh, Stolas, I'll stay with you, I love you soo much.

Blitz's immediate response to Stolas' confession being one of disbelief leading him into thinking it's some sort of roleplay or pretense because he can't possibly believe that anyone would actually love him is honestly worse case scenario and probably where all of this starts going downhill.

I have my answer, Blitz. You needn't say anything. I have wanted you, for so long. The fact that you couldn't believe that I might have these feelings about you, that your first instinct is that it's always about... sex. That's enough to know what this is.

This right here, is terrible. Miserable, even. Communication is starting to break down, Stolas doesn't realise or understand Blitz's point of view and I certainly cannot blame him for getting upset but how these two are communicating yet somehow falling victim to miscommunication at the same time is impressive at this point. They're both getting emotional, and it's fucking everything up but to be fair no one can remain 100% logical, this is nerve wracking and stressful for them both.

What? Fuck you, Stolas. You spring this feelings bullshit on me, are you fucking kidding? Can I get a fucking minute to think after everything you've put me through, you pompous rich asshole? Treat me like one of your little butler imps, you can't just dismiss me like that! I mean, you royal fucks think you can do this every time, like you can just play with our feelings because we're smaller and not as important! Well, I'm not letting you, bitch! Let's go!

This, this is incredibly cathartic in a weird way. It's not good by any means but for Blitz these bitter feelings have probably been somewhat simmering beneath the surface for a while and he hasn't been able to express them because of the nature of his and Stolas' relationship. The way he's phrasing this makes me wonder if he has previous experience with a royal demon doing this to him outside of now, and Stolas' father hiring him to be Stolas' friend when he was a child. It wouldn't be too unreasonable but putting that aside for a moment. The anger and lashing out here is probably a defense mechanism on his part, every time something has got vulnerable or upsetting in the past in this show Blitz always seems to get angry (an example that comes to mind at the minute is when Cash was celebrating Fizz's birthday - at the time he didn't say anything to Fizz but he stormed off, angry. Another one could be probably a few of his interactions with Verosika. I'd have to rewatch the show to find something more particular). The point is Blitz lashes out instead of being open and vulnerable, he doesn't mean or genuinely think any of this - and immediately regrets it as soon as he says it. But it's too late, it's been said.

Stolas flinches or pauses when walking a handful of times during this rant from Blitz, each time whenever he has an insult. Before he has even said anything it's immensely clear Stolas is very hurt by this.

Blitz. I think so very highly of you, I didn't realise you think so low of me.

This is the regret I was talking about, it's probably helped along by Stolas admitting he thinks highly of Blitz but god - he is crushed. And he immediately tries to apologise but Stolas teleports him out of there before he can even process it, leaving us on a terrible cliffhanger.

God, it's a fucking mess. They're a mess I'm so scared for the next episode and how they are even going to fix this. Someone get these gay demons a therapist, please, I beg.

All in all, ow my feelings, this episode hurt, I did cry. Stolitz have mastered the art of miscommunication, but that is hardly news. Blitz seems to have got a genuine wake-up call, sort of similar to how he did with Fizz and I'm hoping that kickstarts something to help him improve, because he does need to. At the same time, Stolas has kinda fucked up here, and does need to give Blitz more time to process since I imagine this is very fucking shocking to him. It's all one biggggg mess and god knows how it'll work out but I'm looking forward to finding out and hopefully not having my heart ripped out and spat on by the end of this season.

[drunkenbagel]

Enchanted to meet you - Part 3

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Spanish f!reader Contents: overall fluff, descriptions of panic attack, angst with comfort a/n: i'm so so sorry for being away so long, i somehow lost access to the account and couldn't post anything!! also have been on a kind of writer's block, so i'm sorry for that too lol. for this part i added some media, let me know if you like it :D Word count: 5,5k Disclaimer: none of the photos used are mine and therefore i do not own them, i just edited them.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Your side of the video call stayed silent for a moment, while you were trying to process what Pedro just said.

“y/n? Did I lost you?” he asked, and groaned. “Maldita cobertura de LA” (Damned LA reception.)

“Wha- What did you just say?” you questioned again. “Are you kidding me right now? Because if you are, no te lo perdonaré nunca.” (I'll never forgive you)

”What? I just-” he started another sentence, but he was interrupted by someone asking to take a picture with him. You quickly silenced your mic and turned off your camera, not wanting to be seen by the people he was with. They would probably get the wrong idea, getting him in trouble. Not to mention the controversy and the incessant hate train that the situation would create. You knew Pedro was sensitive when it came to hurt and pain, even if it didn't seem that way just because he brushed it off with goofiness and some jokes. So, you tried your best to avoid any kind of problem that seeing someone like you with him could cause. After a few minutes, he focused his phone on his face again.

“Hey, sorry about that, darlin'” he said with a side smile. “Some people asked- Are you still there?”

You connected your mic and camera again. “Yeah, sorry. Didn't want to disturb you.”

He frowned. “Don't say that. You don't.”

You felt a small pang on your chest, but you brushed it off by jumping again to the previous topic.

“So, what is that thing you were telling me? You're inviting me where?”

“Oh, yeah! I was thinking if you'd like to come with me to Los Angeles. I've got some long filming ahead and was wondering if you'd like to visit me. I'm going to stay at my house here, and of course, as my best friend, you have a designated room” he said laughing. “I could show you around and stuff. You know, to see the beautiful places here.”

“I mean... I'd sure as hell would love it, don't get me wrong or anything” you said, letting out a nervous chuckle. “But, uhm...”

You didn't know how to tell him that you were dying to see Los Angeles since you moved to the United States, but that you were afraid to be outside with him and the consequences that it could bring. You two had been basically best friends for almost two and a half years now, but he was still a celebrity, for fuck's sake. And you were... Average. You always tried to be really careful when going outside with him. Wasn't he afraid of being seen with you? It was easier to blend in the few times you two went out in New York, especially since you preferred to go out mostly at night-time or just hang out at his house.

“Then it's settled! I'll be back there in like a week, and after a few days we can come back here for as long as you like. I think it'll be so fun being here with you, you'll love this! I'll show you so many things here. Oh, I also could show you around the studios, maybe you'll see someone from those crime shows you're obsessed with.”

“Hey! Why the cute rant and then you attack me? Not fair” you said cracking a small smile. “I appreciate your invite, really, but... I don't know, I have my job, my rent...”

“y/n, since your promotion you practically work from home. You don't go to the office anymore. And about your apartment, you always complain about the landlord, the sink, the place itself. Si no es esto, es lo otro. Why don't you move out and look for anything else?” (If it's not this, it's that.)

“I-” you tried to think of any excuses, but he was right. You had been looking for apartments, but it was very difficult to find anything decent in New York with an average paycheck. You sighed, defeated. “Look, I know you're right, but what do you want me to do? Just magically find something?”

He hummed, and brought his hand to his chin, thinking. You almost laughed. It looked like he was thinking so hard. After a few moments, he snapped his fingers.

“Here's the deal. I know this filming is going to be at least three months, so how about you stay with me here, and then you can stay at mine in New York? You know you have a room at my place anyways.”

“What? That is not-” You felt your cheeks heat up. How could he be so calm about this? “So that is your solution? You want me to move in with you?”

“I wouldn't say that, it's more like... A temporary solution until you find a place for yourself. You know you practically spend all your time in my house when I'm there! Also, you could stop paying rent for that shithole while staying with me, so I only see positive points here. Am I wrong?”

He smiled at the camera while you ran a hand through your hair, stressed. He had a very valid point, of course, but he said it so casually that it left you a bit dumbfounded. So did this mean that he didn't care to be seen with you? His New York apartment was in a multiple housing building, so it was always easier for you to go in unnoticed. But Los Angeles? You didn't know if that was possible. People there were more used to seeing celebrities, of course, but the anxious thoughts were not leaving you alone.

“Hey, I hope I'm not making you uncomfortable or anything. You know you can always say no” he said with a worried tone.

“I know, I know. I was just thinking...” you sighed. “You're right. But are you sure you don't mind me being there with you? Or anywhere close for that matter? Are you sure it's okay? Because I wouldn't-”

“Y'think I would have said it if I didn't mean it? You're offending me!” he said laughing. “Now, seriously. I'd love to have you around more. You know I miss you when we're apart.”

“Aw, mi Pedrito se enterneció. ¡Te he ablandado! How did you live without me?” you joked. (My little Pedro got soft. I have softened you!)

His could feel his cheeks getting red, but he tried to brush it off. “Anda, cállate. Do you accept my deal or not? The offer is now for limited time.” (C'mon, shut up.)

“Okay, okay! I do accept” you said laughing. “But I'll need help with moving if I have to leave everything at your apartment before going to LA. You help me or the deal is off.”

“You got it” he said with a wide smile. The way his eyes wrinkled while he was smiling or laughing made your heart skip a beat. It was too cute for your heart to handle, you loved it. The way he grasped onto anyone around him while he let out the cutest belly laugh, or how contagious they were.

Little did you know he was thinking the same thing about you. Pedro loved your laugh, especially when it was shared with him. Oh, how his heart started to beat faster every time you sent him a message. Or how that one time you were video chatting him and you felt so comfortable that you fell asleep still in the call. He ended up just watching you sleep soundly before falling asleep ‘beside you’. And now he was going to have you under the same roof? He felt like he was the happiest man in the world when you accepted. He couldn't believe you did. He had been thinking about asking you since you always complained about how awful your landlord was, or how he refused to fix anything. Truth be told, he wanted to punch that guy more than anything sometimes.

He tried to keep his silly crush for himself, especially since you were much younger than him. The last thing he wanted was to make you uncomfortable, so he tried to keep it away from his thoughts. But it was so damn difficult. You were so kind, so caring, and so sweet. He wanted you all for himself, but whenever he thought about it, he always ended up in the conclusion that you didn't seem to show any interest beyond your friendship. That's why he forced himself to act as he was, just your ‘older’ best friend. Who casually just invited you to live with him.

Cool, cool. Totally normal.

As the days went by, you put your leave notice to your landlord and started packing everything. Pedro helped you with all, just as he promised, even using his own car to move the boxes back and forth between apartments. Luckily, you didn't have that much stuff since your apartment was quite small. Time seemed to pass very slowly but so fast at the same time, leaving your stomach to be a flustered mess of nervousness. Soon enough, you both were waiting into the airline row to enter the plane.

“Oh my god. I can't believe I'm doing this!”

“It's hitting you now?” Pedro answered laughing. “Actually, it's making me feel weird too. But the good kind. I like it when I have you around.”

“Aw” you said pouting. “You like it, but not enough to pay for us to sit together?”

“Are you kidding me? I'm not going to pay 50 extra dollars for a seat. I'm already going to see you all the time when we land, don't give me a hard time with it! Plus, we're only a seat apart, eres una exagerada.” (You're exaggerating.)

“Whatever. I'll remember this betrayal.”

“Ugh” he said smiling while he rolled his eyes. “C'mon, we're next.”

The six hour flight went by faster than you expected it to be, especially since you slept for most of it. The chatty old lady that sat in between you two was kind enough to switch places with Pedro halfway on the flight when she saw the way he looked at you uncomfortably sleeping against the plane window, so he put the armrest back and carefully pulled you to his side so you could sleep on him.

You looked so beautiful like this. Softly moving your hair away from your face, he pushed the stray hairs behind your ear, and you sighed contently. He couldn't stop the smile that formed on his lips.

“How long have you been dating, dear?”

Pedro turned his head to his right, confused. “What?”

“Oh, I'm sorry. Are you married perhaps? It's just that I didn't see your rings so I guessed you didn't pop the question yet. Don't tell me this trip is for that! Oh my, congratulations!”

“What? No! No, no” he said while moving his free hand on the air. He could feel his cheeks getting hot and he looked at you quickly in case you had heard the lady, but you were soundly asleep. Then he looked at her again. “It's not like that. We- Uh, we're just friends. She's my best friend. Just that.”

“‘M sorry then, dear. It's just that I heard you two talkin’ about living together, saw you actin’ like you were, and I just assumed. But let me tell ya’, honey, friends don't look at each other like that” she said, briefly patting his thigh while smiling. “My dear Stevie, may he rest in peace, was always lookin’ at me the same. I didn't realize I was in love with him until I was with somebody else, for the love of god! I just assumed he was a good friend and never saw me as nothin’ else. He even helped me with this guy just ‘cause I seemed happy. But you see, honey, he just wanted the best for me as long as I was happy, even if that meant sacrificing his own happiness. I almost lost my dearest because I thought helpin’ me to find joy in another meant that he wasn't interested. I can see how you look at her. Don't let that happen to you, honey. Believe me, not worth the time you lose while y’know that you two are just playin’ pretend.”

Pedro only looked at the woman with his lips briefly parted, his heart heavy on his chest. He didn't want that happening, but he could also not risk ruining the relationship he already had with you. He would never do that. Also, he noticed how you always avoided going to crowded spaces or where paparazzi could spot you two together. How could he not? He knew that you didn't like the attention that kind of things attracted, so he respected your decisions over where to meet. Pedro preferred staying with you watching TV or playing games rather than cameras following him everywhere anyways. In fact, he knew moving to Los Angeles was a huge step for you, since it was nearly impossible to go out and not be spotted by paparazzis. That was mainly why he was feeling so nervous about this whole thing, but he hoped that after all the time that you two had been friends for, maybe you wouldn't be too bashful about going out with him, and would let him recognise you publicly as his friend.

He spent the hour and a half that was left of the flight sleeping with his head on top of yours, only waking up when the lady beside him shook his arm gently to let him know that you were landing. He then did the same with you, and couldn't hold back a smile while he watched you rub your eyes and yawn. After getting off the plane you two went for your baggages, and after you managed to put everything in one big stroller, you started walking outside.

“I'm impressed” he said, watching you push the thing by yourself. “I thought you were going to bring your whole house over here. Is this really everything?”

“Well, no” you said as if it was obvious. “Did you think I was going to bring my scarfs, jackets and big sweaters to LA? I'm not-”

You stopped talking when you saw a man with a camera in the distance. He was taking pictures of you. You gulped and tried to laugh, but an uncomfortable chuckle came out.

“y/n? Are you alright?” asked Pedro, a little worried by your change of demeanour. He moved his eyes in the direction you were looking, and then he saw it. A couple of men with cameras, and they were getting closer. “Hey, look at me.” You linked your eyes with his, and he had a soft look on them. “You'll be alright. C'mon, let's take a taxi and get home.”

You nodded and tried to ignore the sound of clicking cameras getting closer. Taking the stroller, Pedro quickly made his way to a taxi and started packing everything up while you got inside. When the men reached the car you heard him say something before he got to the back of it with you and gave the address to the driver. You nervously took his hand with yours and he squeezed it twice, which was his silent way of asking if you were feeling okay. You squeezed it back once. Yeah, just anxious. You two came up with this method after Pedro realized that you sometimes went non-verbal when you were in situations that made you feel anxious, and he wanted to know how he could help. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he left a kiss on your hair while rubbing his thumb over yours. After a few minutes in silence, he spoke up.

“I'm thinking you won't have much enthusiasm of going out. I understand if you wanna spend the day at home. We can watch a film or something, then order food. Sounds good?”

“Yeah” you answered in a whisper. “I'm sorry.”

“Why? You didn't do anything wrong. I know you're not used to this, and I love you for coming with me to the other side of the country despite knowing the situations that you may have to face. I should be the one apologizing” he said, and kissed your forehead. “I know this will be hard at first, but I want to be able to call you my friend. To talk about you in interviews, or when people ask me about funny stories. And I'm not trying to give you an ultimatum or anything since I understand that you want your privacy, I do too, but with my kind of life, you always have to give something. I don't want you being followed, but at least I want to be able to not hide my amazing best friend to the world.”

“I understand, and I'm okay with it. I didn't just accept moving with you lightly, I knew what I was getting into. And I understand that it may have been difficult not to say anything about me, but I just- I wasn't ready. It's not easy being a celebrity's best friend” you said with a chuckle. “But I also get your point. You have been my best friend for a long time now, and I don't want to hide anymore. I know it's going to be hard, so I need you to be patient with me. More than you have already been, which I'm incredibly thankful for. But it's not going to be something I magically get used to. Don't you think I might also be dying to share you with the world? I'd love to! But I was trying to wrap my head around it. And I did, and I'm ready. So expect me posting about you and your shitty habits everywhere on my Instagram and Twitter from now on.”

He couldn't hold back a wide grin while he took you into a tight hug, and you giggled. “Thank you. Thank you so much for doing this, y/n. Ugh, you're the best. How did I ever bag this good of a friend?”

“I believe you stalked me for weeks, forced Ernesto to tell you things about my schedule, then waited for me in the café every time like a puppy and called it ‘a coincidence’, right?”

“You're saying it like I'm some creep or something! I just liked how normal you treated me, okay? Shut up.”

After arriving to the house and setting your things on your room, Pedro gave you a small tour of the house. You loved it. Especially the views from the amazing balcony that led to a beautiful view of the city. You two opened a bottle of wine while waiting for the takeout to arrive, and you braced yourself to finally face the challenge: going through socials. You were sure that the photos from this morning were all over the internet already, and when you entered Twitter, you confirmed it. The paparazzi pictures where everywhere, and everyone was speculating on how were you related to him. When the food arrived and he was about to dig into it, you spoke.

“Pedro?”

“Yeah?”

“I think it's time to post it” you said while taking a long sip of the glass.

“That fast?” he asked incredulously. You nodded and showed him your phone. “Okay then, one sec.”

He took out his phone and typed something. A few moments later, your phone chimed, and you stared at the Instagram post you were tagged in.

“You bitch! You could have picked another photo” you said while laughing.

“I know, but that's the funniest one” he said chuckling too.

—•—

It had been a bit more than a month since the photo was posted, and people were taking it a lot better than you had expected. Some were even asking you to post ‘unseen’ Pedro content. There were also people that insulted you and told you ugly things, but you decided to ignore and block them. Your social media follower count had exploded, and you had a lot of new people interacting with your normal content, but you got more or less used to it.

You had been out together a couple of times, mostly to get groceries and stuff before Pedro began his filming. He made you copies for every key in the house, and also gave you the spare one for his car in case you ever needed it. But since then, he spent a lot of hours out in the studios, so you mostly saw each other at early mornings or nights.

“Hey, I'm free today so I was thinking of going to the beach or something. I know it's not the best weather, but maybe we could take the car and then rent some bikes and go for a ride over there? What do you think?” Pedro asked you one afternoon while eating lunch.

You yawned while nodding. You had tried not to sleep in the Los Angeles daylight, but you were still kind of used to the New York timezone. Jet lag was no joke, and your shitty sleep schedule didn't help either.

“Sure. But I might be a little out of practice, so you better not laugh at me.”

“But that would be the best part!” he said laughing. “Okay then, I'll go for the car. This way I can show you around a bit more than these past weeks.”

He seemed very happy since he made you two public, and it made your heart go soft at the thought that sharing you with the world had that kind of reaction for him. Sometimes you thought that the people would find your friendship weird because of the age difference, but to your luck, it seemed like most people understood the situation a little. Of course, there were the ones that thought it was weird, or that you two were dating but didn't want to tell, but luckily it wasn't that many people.

When you got dressed Pedro drove to Santa Monica beach, then rented the bikes, and it was then when your small tour began. He showed you Venice beach, his favourite places to eat, drink and you even saw a museum from the outside. When the sun was starting to set, you rode back to the bike renting shop and sat in the sand to watch the sunset.

After it got a little dark, Pedro drove you to a local Mexican restaurant not too far to have dinner. You ordered some tacos and enchiladas, and while eating them both of you talked about how filming was going. He was so excited about it, and he wanted to invite you to set. You told him you would think about it beacuse you too had a job, but you ended up promising you would soon since you could do yours from anywhere and your schedule was more flexible. Pedro had a small desk on the living room so you used it as a makeshift little office.

Unaware for both of you, some people had spotted Pedro at the restaurant and posted it on the internet, which led the paparazzi to the location. They were waiting outside, and when you two realised it, it was too late, since there were already a small swarm of them. Your stomach began to ache with anxiety. This was the first time that you encountered that many together.

“I can ask the staff to let us out from the back” Pedro said after seeing your reaction to the small crowd.

“No, no. I don't want to inconvenience them or anything. We'll just... Go out, and then walk to the car and go back home. I'll be fine” you said, but worry was lingering in your voice.

After getting your leftovers in a small container, paying and gathering your things, you got up and headed to the exit. When Pedro got his hand on the handle of the cristal door, the flashes of the cameras had already began clicking around you. You had to cover your eyes and stop in your tracks for a second, which Pedro used to take your hand and lead you to where the car was a few meters away. Everyone was pushing around and shouting, trying to get his attention.

“Why did you hide her?”

“Did she move in with you?”

“Are you two dating?”

You reached the car, but they were too close. One of them was blocking the passenger door, so you couldn't really get into it. Pedro was already on the driver's side of the car, waiting for you to get in.

“Please move, you're in the middle” you heard Pedro say to them.

The photographers didn't listen and kept shouting while flashing their cameras. They were so close, too close, you felt like your air was slowly getting kicked out of your lungs. But they didn't back off, they just kept moving closer and pushing their way into you to get the best angles.

“Why are you even with her? You can do so much better!”

Pedro turned around to yell at the guy who said that, but he was just in front of you, and while he flinched backwards trying to get away from him thinking Pedro was maybe going to push him, his camera hit your face. It hit you right in the cheek, breaking the skin ever so slightly but enough to make you bleed. You gasped and your head moved down from the impact. You heard Pedro yell your name as he ran to your side, and you could swear the small crowd went silent for an instant before resuming the flashing of the cameras.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Pedro screamed at the guy. He took your face softly in between his hands as he was inspecting the spot which you had been hit on.

“She was in the middle, it's not my fault!”

“It's not your fault?” he said tearing his eyes from you to the man, and felt the worry for you shift into rage inside of him. “If you had even a little bit of a brain you wouldn't have to push anyone, you fucking asshole!”

You couldn't hear anything. Everything sounded like it was muffled. Panic was starting to build rapidly into you, making your limbs shake. Your breath was becoming irregular and your hands were sweating. No, no, no. Not here. Not now. You turned your back to the photographers, facing the car and putting your hands against it in an attempt to ground yourself. Tears started forming in your eyes, and you tried not to spill them. You didn't want to cry, not here, not where you could embarrass Pedro. That was the last thing you wanted. You tried to open the car door with shaky hands, and after what felt like an eternity, you got into the car. You crouched down and took your head between your hands trying to stop your head from pounding. Pedro was so fucking angry at the guy. How could he treat you like that? He had no right to do it. He was almost going to punch him but stopped in his tracks when he saw you get into the car and double over. His stomach sank at the sight. He knew what that position meant for you, and without any other word he got into the car and drove away without caring if he ran over one of those ungrateful men.

“Breathe, baby. We're out, I'm taking you home. We're almost there. Steady breaths.”

He kept talking to you in an effort to ground you, but silent tears were already streaming down your face as you hyperventilated. You hated this, you hated messing up everything. As soon as you were home, Pedro got out of the car and ran to your side. After opening the door, he carefully took you in his arms as you clinged to him, still with uneven breaths. He took you to the living room and lowered both of you to the ground.

“y/n, let's breathe together, okay? Look” he said while taking your hands into his and clutching them into his chest. He breathed in and out slowly a couple of times, and you tried to imitate him, but it was very hard for you, which only got you more frustrated and anxious. “It's alright, don't push it. Slowly. There's no rush, I'm here with you. Now, I'm going to leave your side for a second” he said softly, and you let out a small whine. “It'll be just a moment, and I'll be right back, okay? It's alright, I promise.”

You slightly nodded, still shaking and breathing harshly. Pedro quickly got up and grabbed an ice pack from the freezer, making his way back to you. He then sat in front of you and put it into your hands, holding them to your chest. Cold always helped you calm down.

“Meanwhile... Let's do 5-to-1, alright? Tell me 5 things you can see.”

After a small pause, you nodded and started looking around. “P-photos” you answered with a small shaky voice. “TV. Kitchen. F-fan. Bal- balcony. Shoes.”

“Good. Very good, baby. You're doing amazing” he said with a smile. “Now 4 things you can touch.”

You looked around and with a trembling hand you touched the rug. Then your pants. Then the sofa. And lastly the small coffee table that was in front of the sofa.

“That's good. Very good” he reassured you again. Positive responses helped you feel like you were a bit more in control. “Now three things you can hear.”

You breathed in and out shakily again, and closed your eyes for a moment. You could hear some faint music from the street, playing not too far away. “M- music.” Moving your head slowly, you heard the kitchen clock ticking. “Clock.” Pedro nodded and gave your hands a small squeeze. A breeze made the trees outside crunch. “Wind.”

“Perfect. That's very good, baby. You're doing great. Now can two things you can smell?”

You looked around again, trying to find anything that came into your ratio. You sniffed the air, and saw the abandoned leftover box in the middle of the room.

“F-food.” Pedro smiled at you and nodded. You looked at him with teary eyes, inhaled and then clutched his shirt. “You. Your- cologne.”

He couldn't stop his face softening or the loving look he gave you. He knew you were just saying it because he was the closest thing you could smell, but he couldn't help his heart from beating faster.

“Very good. Now the last one, something you can taste.”

You had calmed down a little, but after a few moments of looking around, your breath became hitched again. You couldn't find anything. Nothing. Not even a mint or some candy. Pedro saw how your thoughts started racing again, and his smile faded completely, panic briefly washing over him too.

“Okay, okay. Remember, slow breaths. Deep and slow, please.”

Your eyes didn't meet his, frantically looking for something that would complete the exercise. You had to complete it. It wasn't right. Pedro thought of every possible solution, but nothing came to mind. Until it did. But he didn't want to do it. It felt wrong, but he saw you start trembling again, he couldn't just leave you to suffer. He knew how important this cycle was to you.

“Oh, fuck this. I- I'm sorry” Pedro muttered while tenderly taking your face in his hands and bringing his lips to meet yours. Your entire body stopped shaking in shock as your eyes widened. You could taste his minty toothpaste along with your shared dinner. Without you noticing, your breath had become slower because of the air shortage. But Pedro noticed that, and he gently pulled back from the kiss. He slowly opened his eyes to meet your still widened ones. For what felt the longest time you two didn't say anything, and his thoughts were the ones that started to race now.

Fuck. I fucked up everything. Why did I even do that? Shit. I ruined it. Now she's going to leave and-

You left the ice pack on the floor, and leaning into him, you snuggled into his lap and put your head on his chest, hugging his waist with your arms. He did the same and held your head with one of his hands, resting his lips on top of it. Pedro was now the one with wide eyes.

What was he supposed to do now? What the hell did this even mean?

[owl-with-a-pen]

Brainy had noted a change in Zor-El’s demeanour from the moment he’d first dispelled his image inducer.

There had been an intensity about him ever since they’d been paired together to create the virus intended to stop Oscar. At the time, Brainy had simply elected to ignore it. Adjusting to Earth had not been easy for him, after all, and Zor-El had clearly been haunted by phantoms of his own past—those that did not take the shape of something that could be so easily conquered.

Brainy hadn’t pressed. It was an… uncomfortable topic for a great many reasons. Reasons he, too, had chosen to overlook. Besides, their most pressing task had taken his full attention… barring – of course - a tiny, negligible… mere handful, of thought tracks that could have potentially mulled things over if given the opportunity. But there was none. Of course, there was none.

Obviously.

It wasn’t until they were alone together on the Legion ship that Brainy allowed himself to re-open those specific thought tracks, skirting over them in finer detail as he simultaneously marked out the co-ordinates for Argo City with a superfluous flick of his right hand.

The ship had been silent since their departure from Earth’s atmosphere, a soft purr from the engines acting as the only sign of life.

Brainy was no stranger to long silences, especially on journeys where he found himself far removed from the goings on of the rest of his crew, far too immersed in his own work. Now, though? Well, the removal of his inhibitors often left him restless, encouraging him to fill every space with a thought or calculation to occupy his time. His mind ran faster than it ever had before, so much that slowing it down to a purely biological mindset was oftentimes inconceivable, especially if he’d worked himself up.

Had he done so now? Perhaps the mere idea of this journey had triggered something in him, because suddenly all those thoughts had nowhere left to hide.

Brainy twisted his ring mindlessly around his finger, pinching skin, digging into the indentations with his thumbnail. When that proved an insufficient distraction, he leant forward in his chair, sending himself on fruitless ventures around the circumference of the navigation room. His legs kicked empty air as his mind continued to whirr, thinking – no – fearing that his theory may have been correct.

Running out of relevant physical and mental stimulus to occupy his time, he admitted something of defeat by leaping from his chair, heading instead in the direction that he had last seen Zor-El before he had conveniently wandered off.

He hadn’t gotten far. In fact, he was stood in the adjacent hallway, staring out through the ceiling to floor windows that ran in a curved slope down the left-hand side of the wall.

Outside, the world was still, the darkness of space only interrupted by sparse flecks of microscopic balls of light, glowing from a lifetime away. It was impossible to tell what Zor-El was thinking in that moment, although Brainy considered it might have been hope for what was to come; to see his home again – if only in part.

But something cold had settled in Brainy’s stomach from the moment he’d stepped through the arch, and he felt a question rise suddenly on his tongue. And so, it was with a wary curiosity that Brainy wandered the hallway to join Zor-El, his hands folded tightly to the base of his spine.

He swallowed down the urge to ask and cleared his throat, electing instead to tell. “We should reach Argo in the next four hours, twenty-five minutes, sixteen—twelve—seconds,” Brainy said, flinching at his own miscalculation. He had failed to account for the seconds that had passed in the time it had taken him to deliver said information. A schoolboy’s error, one that he did not make lightly. After all, the difference between a few seconds could often mean life or death.

Life or death. It certainly felt that way now, waiting on Zor-El’s response. The arm on Brainy’s internal clock couldn’t have ticked slower if it had tried.  

Eventually, Zor-El lowered his head, blinking away decades-worth of reverie. He failed to meet Brainy’s eye. “Very well.”

The question was back again, nagging on the tip of his tongue. Brainy scratched awkwardly at his collar, drawing forward a little impulsively. “Have I… done something to offend?”

He had assumed the answer long before this conversation, and yet Brainy still felt a sinking in his stomach when Zor-El drew to his full height, easing his shoulders back as he continued to regard the emptiness ahead of him. “My wife and I always taught our daughter to see the best in people,” he spoke calmly, his dark eyes tracking the stars one by one, “only I never realised that those teachings might one day extend to one of your—kind.”

Zor-El’s gaze moved suddenly, no longer capturing the world outside, but rather holding firm on the one reflection cast against the glass. Of Brainy’s ghostly silhouette, the glow of his projectors a subdued brilliance in the simulated dusk of the ship’s dimly lit hall.

“Ah,” Brainy said tightly. His mouth was suddenly very dry. He swallowed hard, clenching his hands behind his back. “I had suspected.”

“And so you admit it!” Zor-El said immediately, spinning suddenly to face him. His expression was a mask of perfect fury. Staunch and unyielding. “I recognised those markings on your uniform the moment I awoke from that hell.” He laughed colourlessly. “And that moniker they call you, as though your heritage is nothing but a fallacy. Now, you show your true colours hidden behind that image modifier of yours, parading yourself about so bluntly, as if you have no shame.” His lips twitched dangerously. “But I know you.”

For a moment, all Brainy wanted was to dare the words right out of Zor-El’s mouth, but he didn’t get the chance. Zor-El was far too quick.

“You are one of them. A Brainiac.”

“Brainiac-5,” Brainy corrected lightly, holding firm in his stance. “You may call me Querl, if that’s—”

“I may call you nothing!” Zor-El spat. “You are an enemy to our people. Have you told my daughter what you did?”

“What my ancestor did.” Brainy bristled, biting down hard on his tongue to keep from speaking out of turn. Still, his anger stirred deep inside, restless in its pursuit to freedom. Brainy refused it. It felt as though he had been refusing it for far too long. Instead, he said, “I have told her what he was responsible for. I have told them all.”

Zor-El made a derisive sound. “He. Is that how you worded it, is that why she has forgiven you so easily?”

“I am not responsible for my ancestor’s actions. I have done nothing but strive—”

“Is that so?” Zor-El spoke over him. “Then answer me this, Brainiac, are you not bound to the minds of your clan? Do you not hear their voices as though they were your own?”

Brainy flinched, his lips thinning into a tasteless smile. His anger somersaulted into something more indulgent, veering towards petulance. He folded his arms. “I would ask how you know this,” Brainy said levelly, cocking his head, “only I know the answer already. For, Kara told me what you used my people for on Krypton.”

Zor-El’s eyes were as dark as coals. He shrugged, running a hand across his jaw. As though it made no difference at all. “Yes, we worked with the Coluans.”

“They worked for you,” Brainy corrected. “You used my people, outfitted them for your own means all in the name of making your planet greater.” He barked out a sarcastic laugh, gesturing to himself with a flourish. “Just as I performed today. Did I not save your so-called invention from destroying Earth?”

“My only error was to trust in Coluan technology in the first place,” Zor-El said coldly, raising his chin. “But I suspect you know just how temperamental it can be. Brainiac-8 is also your relation, is she not?”

Brainy’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t see how that is relevant.”

“No, you don’t,” Zor-El cried. “Because that would mean admitting fault. You say you oh-so heroically saved this planet today, then I say it is the least you could have done after the abduction of Kandor, of the havoc that was subsequently wreaked on Krypton’s core, of everything the Brainiacs have destroyed!”

Brainy ran his tongue over his front teeth, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. “Okay, okay, I see where this is going,” he said, sinking back into a more languid stance. “My ancestor’s sins were abominable, I make no argument for him, but just hours ago it was you that was admitting fault for Krypton’s destruction. It is only logical you would wish to divert that blame elsewhere now that you are mere hours from what remains of your home, from your wife. So that you may lessen your own guilt.”

Maybe that had been the wrong thing to say, but Brainy no longer cared for tact. His anger was agitating again, spitting and swirling inside his stomach, and no amount of breathing exercises or Dolly Parton was about to take that away.

Zor-El’s eyes were wide. “You dare speak to me in this way?”

“Look at where you are, Zor-El,” Brainy said. “The ship in which you stand. Your fight isn’t with me. Stand down and we continue to Argo, to your people and your wife. Persist and I will gladly divert our course back to Earth so that another of my friends may make this journey with you.” He quirked a brow. “And believe me when I say that turning this ship around would take just a fraction of my mental capabilities.” He waved a hand towards the console in the room over with more aggression than was needed, clenching his fist. At the same time, their current course flashed across the screen, pasting itself as a 3D image above the control panel.  

Zor-El offered it one scathing look before huffing his disapproval, turning back towards the window. “Typical Coluan egotism,” he muttered.

“Typical Kryptonian pig-headedness,” Brainy shot back, enjoying the way Zor-El’s shoulders drew together at the insult.

Neither one of them spoke a word after that, though Brainy suspected the rest of their journey together would not be a pleasant experience.

---------

They landed in a quiet pasture on the outskirts of the city, just before sundown. The tallest points of Argo’s developing structures were barely visible from their vantage, smothered by a dense treeline.

Only one person stood to greet them. Brainy recognised her the moment they stepped outside, for she shared the same kind smile as her daughter’s.

Alura Zor-El swept her husband into her arms the second he stumbled into the grass, no longer guided by the light-footedness he’d found so easily beneath a yellow sun. Brainy deftly averted his gaze when the two embraced, not wishing to encroach on the moment. No matter how tense their trip here had become, Zor-El deserved this moment of reunion with his wife. With everything he’d lost.

Besides, rage was not new to Brainy’s systems by now, and with the last few hours of silence to help gather his thoughts, he’d been able to put much of his anger aside in favour of a more optimistic outlook.

One that reminded him that he would be making the return trip alone. Indeed, soon he would be putting a sizeable distance between himself and all the contempt that Zor-El held for him.

It was only when Brainy heard Alura’s sharp intake of breath that he tuned back into the here and now.

She was no longer in the arms of her husband but had rather taken a step forward before falling quite still, studying Brainy with meticulous curiosity. She folded her hands in front of her, reviewing at first his hair, then his face, then the dot formation across his chest.

Brainy’s stomach clenched the further her eyes travelled. A part of him wished he’d activated his image inducer again before leaving the ship. Maybe that would have made things easier.

When Alura took another step forward, Brainy braced himself for the worst, stiffening when her eyes widened in surprise.

“You—” she said, and for one awful moment Brainy felt sure that she might strike him. Flashes of a familial sneer caught in his memory banks, and as Alura drew closer, he suddenly couldn’t tell her face apart from the mother that haunted his own childhood. It felt harder to hold his own against her, somehow, and he had to fight his every instinct not to retreat.

Instead, he was faced with the most curious of attacks. One that came in the form of a hug.

Flummoxed, Brainy held still in Alura’s embrace, not daring to breathe again until she’d released him. When she did, her brow furrowed, recognising his bewilderment.

“It is you, isn’t it?” she asked, suddenly uncertain of herself. “Brainy, of the Legion?”

Wordlessly, Brainy nodded. He could feel Zor-El’s eyes on him, but didn’t dare turn from Alura.

Alura’s face crumpled into a relieved smile. She bowed her head into a formal greeting. “I had hoped that we might one day meet,” she admitted. “There are many here who have wished the same. To meet you—to thank you.”

Now, Brainy was truly at a loss. “Thank me?” he repeated flatly.

“Thank him?” Zor-El echoed, equally dumbfounded.

“But of course,” Alura said, scooping Brainy’s hands suddenly into her own. Her eyes were bright. “Some years ago now, I was reunited with my daughter. She came with a friend – Mon-El of the Legion. He brought with him a piece of technology, your invention, one that helped eradicate Thalonite Lung completely from our community, as well as many other childhood ailments. So much of our medical history was lost on Krypton, but your invention filled in many of the gaps in our knowledge. It saved our children, our future.” Alura kissed him suddenly on the cheek, squeezing his hands. “You have my gratitude. You have Argo’s gratitude.”

For the first time in a long time, Brainy’s mind drew a total, unnerving blank. He stared at Alura uncomprehendingly, clearing his throat with more force than was necessary. “I—uh—I mean – you’re—you are very welcome.”

Alura chuckled, patting his knuckles gently. “This was not the welcome you had anticipated, was it?”

Brainy’s face fell. “Not at all,” he admitted, earning another laugh from Kara’s mother. “I—I suspect that you too know of my family’s history.”

Alura’s expression changed then. A profound sadness swept through her eyes. Sympathy, not scorn. “Yes,” she said, nodding slowly. “But… we do not choose our families. When I sent my daughter away, I only hoped that she would find safety on Earth, find a family, and I was fortunate that my prayers were answered. Not all of us are as lucky.” She smiled kindly. “We choose our paths, and from what Kara has told me, the path you have chosen is a noble one. So, Argo welcomes you, Brainiac-5.”

“This is all true?” Zor-El asked into the silence that Brainy left. He’d made an attempt at moving closer since his wife had begun to speak, a waver of distrust still evident in his dark eyes.

Alura paid it no mind, turning to take Zor-El’s face in her hands. “Oh, my dear husband. Every word.”

A pained look pulled Zor-El’s brow taut, and for a moment he said nothing at all. Eventually, he took his wife’s hand with a tenderness that spoke the years they’d been apart, holding her fingers there against his cheek, as though afraid of what might happen if he let go.

Brainy knew that feeling all too well. His heart ached to recall his own forced separation from Nia, how ardently he’d held onto her when the dust had settled after all the mistakes he’d made. He imagined now how her eyes would have lit up seeing another world like Argo, how different this experience might have been had she been at his side.

But perhaps this discomfort had been necessary, because when Zor-El finally turned to face Brainy, there was no more hatred left to greet him.

Instead, he said, “I believe I owe you an apology, Querl Dox.”

Brainy’s lips twitched. “And I you.” He shrugged. “I could have—handled your scorn better.”

Zor-El laughed. “You handled it well,” he assured him. “I-I admit that I have not been the easiest to deal with since my return from the Phantom Zone. My guilt—it was unfair to make that your burden. You have proven who you are over and over in the short time I have been reunited with my daughter; I just let my pig headedness get in the way of seeing that.”

“I am certain my Coluan ego did not help matters.” Brainy smirked. “But… I forgive you.”

Alura glanced between them both, a smile of her own playing on her lips. “I imagine the trip here was quite tense?”

Brainy and Zor-El both laughed at that. “You could say that,” Zor-El said.

Alura rolled her eyes, beckoning them towards the woods. “Come, then, both of you, before it gets too dark. Let me show you around.”

Lulled by this new serenity in his emotional state, Brainy nearly followed after her. He stopped himself short, clenching his hands reluctantly. “I—I must be returning to Earth. The Super Friends—”

Alura cut him off, swooping in to take his arm. “And you will. But please, Querl, allow me this opportunity? As I say, many of the people here have wanted to thank you.”

Brainy realised he could not deny her. Perhaps he didn’t want to. The invention he had created had been for the betterment of all society, and while he had never envisioned it landing a thousand years in the past, helping the remnant of a planet thought to be destroyed in the fallout of his own ancestor’s attack, he supposed it was somewhat fitting.

He may not have been responsible for Krypton’s destruction, but if he was able to do something to help the people who had suffered because of it, then there was absolutely no question. He was grateful Mon-El had been able to use it here, and it warmed Brainy’s heart to know that he had shared stories of the Legion with the people of Argo City while he had been there. Enough that, perhaps, the name Brainiac might instil something other than fear in the hearts of the children who ran free here. Healthy… because of him.

And so, Briany nodded. “A few hours, then,” he agreed.

Alura’s smile widened. “Excellent!”

With that, Brainy fell into step with Zor-El and, together, they let Alura guide them home.

[sweaterkittensahoy]

Hello! I have a bit of an embarrassing question to ask you, and you don't have to respond if it's too uncomfortable a topic to discuss. I've been struggling with my family's annual re-watch of Harry Potter this year (something I can’t avoid without upsetting and/or offending my parents), and it's made me think a lot about fandom and my place in it, though I haven’t been active with HP for many years. I had, recently, and briefly, considered doing a podfic of one of the fics I most loved when I was still in fandom, and have since concluded that no matter how far removed from the source material (as an early Marauders fic with M/M and significant deviations from the source material) it just isn’t appropriate anymore.

As to the other fics (written, not pod’ed) still existent on my account, I haven’t quite decided what to do about them yet. I guess my question is: how did you come to the decision to orphan your HP fics, rather than delete them; and would you still make the same decision now, as her tailspin into fascism has worsened?

I'd orphan again, no question.

We are deeply fucking unfortunate that the Rowling situation is one of the worst cases of "I don't think death of the author (the concept, not actual death) will fix this for me."

And, so, I had to decide for myself how I felt about being connected even tangentially to that fucking asshole. And I realized I wanted no connection at all.

But.

And this is the important part.

But. There are people who find comfort and enjoyment in MY stories from HER book series. Yeah, I'm using characters she created, but I'm putting them into different stories than she ever did. I wrote a series about Percy during the war where he was running a safehouse, and I wrote it because I was mad at how little actual war made it into the final book. And people like it BECAUSE it's a much more honest look at war (and that it's Percy/Oliver, but duh).

It turned out, for me, that the answer wasn't to delete everything I'd written and take stories away from people because the originator is a fucking asshole. The answer was to complete the death of the author. Me. By taking my name off my stories.

I assume my stories are still getting read and enjoyed. I hope so, at least. But more importantly to me, I didn't take away something I created to be shared because the original creator is a bad person.

I can't control what Rowling does. I can't control all the people who continue to justify why they continue to give her money while saying out of the other side of their mouth that they know she's a bad person, but Harry Potter means sooooo much to them, so they're just sort of stuck (no, you just want official merch).

I can control my own decision and be happy with it. If someone finds comfort in those stories I wrote, they'll be on AO3 whenever they need them. And setting them free from me and my complicated feelings on all of it was the right decision. I hope they're enjoyed, and I'm glad I left them to be found.

[your-queer-dad]

Hi finch! It's the person talking about binders a lot again. I just need other people to bounce thoughts off of bc I don't know anyone else irl who's trans/transmasc.

For context, I'm afab but not a woman and also not a man. I used to be a girl bc i was raised that way and didn't know there were other options but i haven't grown into a woman. I dont want to grow into a woman. I'm pretty sure I'm agender? At least that sounds more correct than the other labels I've gone by (girl, demigirl, nonbinary). I guess I experience gender similarly to sexual attraction (aka I'm very confused and don't understand how other people know what their gender is or how they experience gender).

That's not the point of this though, it's (once again) the topic of top surgery. I feel like I'd be fine without getting it... like if I'm by myself my chest doesn't bother me. It's there and I don't hate it. I dont think I experience dysphoria, especially not the way other people do. But if I'm out in public I know that other people will notice my chest and read me as a woman and treat me accordingly as a result. THATS what bothers me, I think. I haven't gone swimming in a few years because of it and i kinda miss doing that... But I think if it wasn't seen as a woman thing/a widely sexualized part of the body I'd be fine just keeping my chest. But on the other hand I'm worried about opting to remove it. What if I regret that choice? What if I hate how I look after? I mean, once I have the surgery that's it, that's my body. And I guess I could keep a small bit of breast tissue but that's not the point lol

There's also the other side of the coin. I just looked in the mirror earlier and for a second my brain didn't register my chest and that felt so correct. It felt so right. But I'm still worried about making a decision because it'd be so much easier to just let my chest be the way it is because it doesn't bother me THAT much. And I wonder if a reduction would feel better but my chest is already on the small side (cant tell you the size bc i never bought real bras lol I've only ever worn sports bras) and I don't know if it would help me. Like what if I regret the reduction? Or on the flip side, what if I do it and it's not enough? I don't want to have to go under twice.

Idk, I've just been thinking about this for a few months now and I'm being indecisive about it. The decision will probably be influenced by how easily I could get the surgery (bc from what I've read you need a letter from a therapist and all that stuff here and also the insurances like to pretend that nonbinary people/people who wanto to do something other than the "normal/full transition" dont exist) and if I think it's worth the stress of having to explain those feelings that I dont even quite understand myself yet. I mean, having a surgery (or potentially going on hrt but somehow that is even more daunting than surgery to me) would make me visibly trans and I don't think my country is doing too well in regards to queer safety yet. I don't know if I want to be visibly trans but I know that I dont want to basically "fully transition" and be read as a man. That'd be too far in the other direction. Ideally I just want to confuse people but that sounds like an unsafe situation to be in, especially in my current almost fully cishet social circle...

Man, I wish Shape-shifting powers were real so I could just test things impermanently before actually going through with permanent changes. That'd make this whole thing so much easier.

Idk, I just wanted to be able to tell another trans person about this and maybe get some advice or something. Im so sorry about how long this got. Thank you for reading it! I appreciate your account a lot, it's nice to just read everyone's experiences. Thank you for running the account and I hope you have a wonderful rest of your day.

Everyone, go hydrate! /nf

- 🌌🌃

Hey kiddo!! I completely understand those worries and my best advice is: if you have any doubts, don't do it. Top surgery is irreversible and it isn't worth it. Wait until you're 1000% sure. I completely understand that's hard and other people's assumptions is so annoying. I wish shape shifting skills were real too!!! That would be so handy.

- dad x

[garoujo]

MY FINAL MESSAGE TO MY TUMBLR HARASSER :

hi ! as you guys have probably seen on dash, in tags, in your inbox there is an anon + a blog @/ffflowers going out of their way to not only spread lies but also to completely try everything in their power to harass and ‘expose’ me.

if you’ve had them in your asks or seen their posts you would’ve seen a link to a callout post from 2021 regarding a conversation that took place on an old blog of mine. their agenda with this callout post is to ‘prove’ that i apparently ignored this completely and got ‘run off’ tumblr without taking any sort of accountability for what was said or making any sort of apology.

this is not true, back in 2021 i took and still take full accountability for what i said and have never denied it, i made 3/4 separate apologies at that time, one of which was my pinned post for around a week and have continued to grow and do better as a writer and as a person since.

this particular discourse was resolved at that time, i never avoided confrontation and admitted i was in the wrong because i was, i was caught off guard and panicked with a topic that i felt intimidated by — i apologise and take accountability for my own ignorance.

while on the subject of this discourse post, i’d just like to prove my statement in this post where i said this particular situation was not what drove me to leave tumblr temporarily— this can be proven by these screenshots. as you can see, the callout post was dated on the 8th of June 2021.

like i said again in my previous post about this, this did not drive me off of tumblr — i owned up to everything i said, even went back to tag every post regarding the discourse so people could read through and make their own opinion — i did not run from this. i continued to write on this blog for months after this discourse which can be proven by the literal date in which it says my blog deactivated at the top — 20th of October 2021. almost 5 months after the callout post. either i’m a slow runner or my statement is correct. again, this was 2 years ago and this person has harassed me ever since.

but while i’m on the topic, the reason i actually left that blog was due to the anon who is continuing to harass me now. i received consistent and constant death threats by the same anon for months, following the same pattern — when i stopped posting their asks, they then decided to try a different approach. they began to force themselves into other peoples safe spaces to tell them they “couldn’t write certain characters because i selfshipped with them and they belonged to me” before going on to send those creators hate and death threats under the guise that i sent them — also not true.

i left tumblr for my own safety, this anon has my private and personal details, my social media and my face reveals but i refuse to let them ruin my safe space for me again. they’ve began to add more to their stories with sudden plagiarism and ‘black fishing’ being suddenly mentioned into their posts which is again absolutely not true, my guess is their current posts weren’t getting as much attention as they expected and they had to make it a little more eye catching.

they’ve also been consistently sending me anon asks hoping to bring relevance to the situation by urging me to post about it, they will send me hate before deciding to try and pretend to be another, nicer anon urging me to ‘hear my side of the story’ or showering me in compliments about how they ‘need an explanation because they know i’m too nice for that’ again, it’s obvious it’s them since they go back to being horrible when they’re ignored, and quite frankly it’s terrifying the lengths they’ll go to harass and manipulate me.

this morning while i was at work i had received an anon urging me to do that exact thing, to talk about the discourse, they sent me consistent asks until i made my post talking about how i will no longer be mentioning it on dash, they then sent me another nastier ask immediately after before then going to post on their blog @/ffflowers almost immediately after that.

also this is part two of them harassing me here and the reason i left my last nsfw blog + them doing the exact same thing they’re doing now, they have a pattern — they will wait a few months before bringing themselves back into my inbox, when their hate asks to me are left unanswered then they play their way into other peoples inboxes hoping they will post + bring attention to the ‘discourse’ they are trying to spread. also another post i’ve made about this situation lastnight here.

they’ve become increasingly more angry and violent the longer they’ve been with me, i’ve been doxxed, threatened, consistently told to die and kms + had my character ripped to shreds on a site where i simply post writing for fun. i apologise to anyone who’s been dragged into this or harassed by this person, they are nasty and this probably won’t be the end of them either — but i refuse to let them drive me off of this app again.

i’ll be taking a small break for a few days to calm down, anon will remain off so they can’t contact me because at this moment i don’t feel safe and will be laying low on my personal acc for a while until i feel better. i apologise again for everything, the posts and my actions included, but i have no secrets.

emmie <3

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